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sweeterthansammy · 3 years

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Better Than Sex? || Trevor Belmont

Trevor Belmont x Female Pirate!Reader; Reader plays the role of Trevor’s wife.

Summary: When Trevor claims that ale is better than sex, Y/N gives him the worst case of blue balls.

Genre: Smut

Written in third person point of view.

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, fingering, fisting (?), vaginal penetration, rough sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, orgasm denial, hair pulling, biting, choking, mild language, sexual innuendos (throughout the imagine), mentions of drinking, mentions of smoking, mentions of pregnancy, & Trevor being the horny little shit he is lmao

A/N: So, I posted this on my first piece on AO3 and let me just tell you...I FUCKING HATE IT. Anywho, enjoy this while I go to sleep :)

Word count: 3.5k

She twisted her neck as she sat down, groaning audibly at the stiffness in her neck.

“Rough day, m’lady?” the clerk asked, filling a tankard with the cold ale before slipping it in front of her.

“You bet your arse it was a tough day,” she replied, taking a swig of the ale as she gripped onto the stein. “I’ve got my husband groaning about the number of night creatures he’s killed in one night, my crew complaining about me leaving. I just needed a nice cold-”

“Stein of ale.”

The voice was familiar enough.

“How the fuck did you find me?” she asked, annoyance bountiful in her tone.

She loved Trevor to bits but having him up her behind all day was becoming a whole task.

“It isn’t very hard when you’re practically married to yourself,” he snarkily chuckled, tilting his head back as the yellow liquid streamed down his throat. “Oh my god, that is better than sex.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest before kicking his stool. Never underestimate the leg of a pirate - that was rule number one in Trevor’s book to marrying a pirate. His malt came spewing out of the mug, landing all over the lower half of his face and the collar of his shirt as he landed flat on his bottom.

“Glad it’s better than sex, Trevor,” she hummed, taking one last sip of her ale before slinging her coat over her shoulders, swiftly making her way out of the pub.

“That’s why I never got married,” the clerk retorted, drying a stein before placing it rim-down on the counter.

“Better than sex, he says,” she grumbled as she lathered lotion onto the spans of her legs after stepping out of the shower. “Can’t fucking believe he’d embarrass me like that!”

She trudged out of the bathroom, slamming their bedroom door shut behind her before dropping her towel, stepping into a silky nightgown before getting under the covers. She cried aloud as she heard his groans downstairs, just now coming home from the bar. She placed the covers over her head, trying to drown out the sound of him stumbling up the steps but it was near to impossible. He barged into the room, reeking of nothing but ale and other assortments of alcohol.

“Trevor, go take a shower-”

She was cut off by his hands taking a hold of the underside of her knees, pulling her to the edge of the bed.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice stern as he caressed her thighs.

“Can we?” he questioned, tilting his head to the side as she rolled her eyes.

“You don’t want me to kick you in the balls, do you?”

“No.”

“Then I highly suggest that you let go of my legs before I do.”

He dropped her legs with a whine, falling forward so his forehead rested against her chest. She carded her fingers through his hair, a residue of his sweat on her fingers as he pulled away from her, leaning on his hands as he towered over her.

“Go shower and maybe I’ll let you bury ya little cock inside of me,” she chuckled, softly kissing his lips before pushing him away.

He stood, rubbing his eyes like a child as he left the room.

“It’s not little!”

“Hurry up! I’m not wearing any underwear,” she teased, a fit of laughter consuming her as she heard the shower turn on in an instant.

By the time he’d drunkenly lathered soap all over his body, he was near to asleep. Y/N had been fast asleep, the shower running for twenty minutes straight. He blundered into the room, briefly waking Y/N before she scolded him “to turn the light off and go to sleep.”

“But you said-”

“Trevor, just get in bed,” she said, her voice fading into a whisper before soft snores left her mouth.

He dove under the covers, a heavy arm throwing itself over Y/N’s waist as his hand reached up to rest itself atop one of her breasts.

“Horny even in your sleep,” she muttered, turning onto her other side to face him before throwing a leg over his waist, her arm splaying itself across his back.

A week or two had passed and Y/N was quite proud of herself. She hadn’t fallen for Trevor’s weak attempts to get in her underwear. She wasn’t letting her hard demeanor fall no matter what he proposed.

Though she wasn’t giving in to him, she was doing a whole lot of teasing - biting and sucking his sweet spots in the midst of a makeout, wrapping her legs around his waist and running her nails over his clothed black, and most of all, stripping down to just her underwear before heading to the bathroom to shower.

Tonight they were taking a trip to Alucard’s castle, visiting him after many long-awaited months. Y/N was far more excited to rejoice with their friends than anything, hurrying to get on the carriage while Trevor struggled with her bags.

“Oh, right,” she muttered, hopping off of the carriage before taking her bags from Trevor, throwing them in the back.

“Thank you,” he snarled, a sigh following.

The ride was everything Y/N could have imagined. Though it became cold at night, Y/N greatly adored the trees adorned by emerald leaves and birds chirping throughout the forest. Night creatures were the least of her worries, she and Trevor taking them down in less than ten minutes.

On the contrary, the ride was dreadful for Trevor. He and Y/N spent many hours with their lips locked, her ending up on his lap somehow, but it was her motive to stick to her plan, hopping off of him as he went to undo the buttons of her shirt. At this point, he was tired of it but he hadn’t exactly done anything to prove so.

“Please?! I won’t be long, I promise,” he’d beg.

“It’s quite a bumpy ride, it’s going to become uncomfortable very quick.”

“Then we can pull over!”

“Night creatures. And villagers. It’d be embarrassing if we were to get caught by anyone or anything. Besides, I’d lose my drive after having to sever off the head of a human-sized wolf.”

Trevor indignantly accepted his fate, remaining silent for the majority of the rest of the trip.

“Alucard!”

She was quick to jump off of the carriage, stretching a bit before running to greet her pale best friend.

“Hello to you too, Y/N,” he chuckled, his hands lingering on the small of her back as he peered at her. “Y’know, I’d expect you to be knocked up after not seeing you for so long.”

She chuckled, glancing around to find him popping a cigar between his lips.

“I’ve given him possibly the bluest balls ever since we’ve been together.”

“You are a terrible woman,” he grinned, slipping past her as he went to greet Trevor.

Settling down in the castle that night was far beyond elating, Sypha arriving quite late but still making it in time for dinner.

“You know,” Y/N started, taking a sip of wine after swallowing the bit of roasted potato in her mouth. “I was seriously stunned by how attractive you were when you first floated out of your coffin and I was tempted to drop to my knees right there and then only to be turned down after telling me that you didn’t go that way.”

As Sypha and Alucard laughed away, Trevor glared at her, his jaw clenching at the unnecessary insight of information.

“And I was greatly upset when Trevor made his move on you. I was waiting to pounce on him but then I realized how hot you two looked together,” Sypha giggled, bringing her attention to Trevor’s reddened face. “Of course, I don’t feel that way about you know. I’m more so jealous of the fact that you’re married to her. I’m not sure if it’s the insane amount of sex you guys have been having but she looks gorgeous. She’s always been beautiful but the pregnancy glow that is to come,” she paused, kissing her fingertips. “Chef’s kiss.”

“Why does everyone think that I’m pregnant or I’m going to be pregnant?” she asked, a fit of laughter following as she took a sip of wine from the glass in front of her. “I wouldn’t be drinking this much if I were.”

“Well, you’re postponing it,” Trevor mumbled, earning a guffaw from the other pair as he’d muttered loud enough not only for Y/N to hear but for anyone within five feet to hear.

“Piece of shit,” she muttered, quiet enough for no one to hear.

Drinks flowed like water, the group intoxicating themselves as each hour passed.

“Come dance with me,” Alucard encouraged, standing in the center of the living area as he put his record player on.

“Had you figured out how to not step on someone’s feet while dancing or do I have to smack you upside the head like I did the first time?” Y/N asked, fixing the button of her blouse ere to taking Alucard’s hand.

“You’ll just have to find out,” he winked, pulling her body flush against his while his other hand slithered around to meet her waist.

Y/N watched as Sypha dragged Trevor to dance with her, her eyes getting caught with the cerulean ones she was infatuated with. She grinned at him, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth as she shot him a wink. Alucard spun her around, their feet moving in a series of patterns with one hand onto his shoulder and the other in his palm.

“And switch,” he called to Sypha, the two boys switching their partners.

“And we meet again, Belmont,” she sultrily spoke, one arm draping over his shoulder while the hand of the other took ahold of his stubbled-chin.

Her chest was pressed against his, her breasts nearing his collarbones as his arm that remained tight around her waist found a way to hoist her body.

“You’re such a little fuckin’ tease, you know that?” he grumbled, his teeth nipping at the skin of her neck.

“What? Am I gonna get punished for it?” she mocked a pout, her cleavage on full display as the buttons of her shirt slowly came undone.

He responded with a growl, his fingertips digging into the plump flesh of her ass. Their legs were an entangled mess; her knee pressed right up to his crotch and his thigh firm against her clothed sex.

“Might as well just fuck me in front of them,” she muttered as he spun her around, her back against his front with one of his hands fixed on her breast.

“Trust me, I’ve considered it.”

Adrian and Sypha looked up for a moment, feeling the thick, tense rope between the couple. They simply looked at each other, stifling their laughter as he spun her around yet again, this time switching her off to Adrian while Sypha was reeled back into his arms.

“That was quite intense,” Alucard retorted.

He slammed her back against the door, knocking the wind out of her lungs as his lips attacked hers. Their lower regions ground against one another, his hands holding onto her knees while his upper half held her up.

He pulled away for a moment, groaning at the sight of her swollen lips, a combination of their saliva coating the flesh. He bit the skin of her neck, rolling it between his front teeth before letting go, sucking on the skin to alleviate the tingling sensation.

“Strip for me - don’t take off your underwear,” he ordered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, panting.

She did as told without a fuss, shimmying out of her skirt and her blouse. He took one look at the white garter around her thigh, letting a scoff-like chuckle fall from his lips. Quite amusing she was. He watched as she stood there, nothing but white lace adorning her body.

“I told you to strip,” he said blatantly.

“But I want you to take it off,” she whined, folding her arms over her chest as she frowned like a toddler.

If he weren’t so desperate to have her around his cock, he would have no problem spanking her until she began to cry. However, he didn’t give up his rough demeanor. He held onto her waist, her chest right up to his.

“Fine, since you want to be such a little fucking brat.”

His arms reached around, fingers effortlessly undoing the hook of her bra before coming back to her front. One leg of his came up, his heel planting itself into the mattress of the bed before he spun her around, one of her arms throwing itself over his leg while the other held onto the one that trailed down her stomach, making its way into her underwear.

“Why can’t you just be a good fucking girl?” he quietly grumbled, his lips hiding into the nape of her neck as his fingers played with her clit. “You’re really fucking wet for someone who has so much mouth.”

His pinky and his thumb resting on the insides of her thighs, serving as a mini obstacle to halt her thighs from caving around his hand while his middle and index fingers fucked her furiously. She moaned aloud, her head rolling onto his shoulder.

He continued at a vigorous pace, profanities tumbling from her lips as he curled his fingers inside of her, reaching for her sweet spot. Her legs quivered as he continued doing this, the tips of her fingers digging into his clothed shoulders.

“Trevor, please,” she murmured, her voice light and airy as ecstasy took over her.

“Please what, darling?” he asked, his voice gruff as his mouth neared her ear.

“Please let me cum.”

The chuckle that came from his lips elicited a groan from her throat.

“We barely even started and you need to cum already?” he tsked, pulling his hand out of her underwear and swiping his fingers over her bottom lips, requesting access as her saliva coated his digits.

“Mm, I should torment you for needing to cum in less than five minutes when I’m sucking your cock, shouldn’t I?”

She’d earned it. But he hadn’t decided whether or not he wanted to edge her until she broke or overstimulate her until her cunt was quite literally palpitating. He pulled his fingers out of her mouth, a dark chuckle leaving his mouth as he pushed her onto the bed.

As she attempted to get onto all of her fours, he held onto her neck from behind, pushing her upper body down so her ass was in the air. He pulled her underwear down, earning a string of moans as he blew air onto her soaked pussy.

“You love tempting me, don’t you?” he queried, his fingers entering her one by one with each pump he gave, his thumb stimulating her clit.

His knuckles were deep inside of her, her moans lewd as they curled and twisted.

“Fuck,” she whispered, the side of her face planted deep into the sheets.

“Go ahead, be the loud fucking slut you are. I want them to hear.”

She didn’t give in to his commands, groaning into the sheets. A yelp came from her mouth as his free hand wrapped her hair around his fingers, grasping at her scalp afterward. He leaned over her yet again, not having anything to say at this point. His hand removed itself from her cunt, placing a taught slap on her swollen folds.

He undressed in a matter of minutes, cursing at the layers of clothing that adorned his brawny build. He looked at her body, her body shaking from not receiving its release. He laughed to himself, rubbing the head of cock along her folds, her body shuddering under his touch.

“Shit- just fuck me already!”

That had come out a bit more pushy (and a bit louder) than she’d hoped it would come out. She was pretty sure that even Alucard, who was all the way at the end of the hall could’ve heard that.

“Such a little whore,” he spoke, swiftly burying his cock between her velvety walls.

Her back arched as he pushed himself further and further into her womanhood. Had it really been that long? She felt so full - for a moment, she forgot what it felt like to be filled up with Trevor’s cock. She felt every inch, their skin slapping with every inch. She instinctively clenched around him, enticing a loud, dragged out groan from Trevor.

She knew she didn’t have much longer as she had two previous orgasms pent up inside of her, her hands clenching onto the sheets while one of his were on her neck and the other digging its nails into the skin of her hips. Her legs shook, confusion consuming her as he didn’t stop. She came around him, an utterly intense moan rippling from the back of her throat.

“Fuck,” she cried out, her back arching even further as both of his hands held onto her hips, pounding into her.

“Turn around, I wanna see your tits,” he grunted, breathless as his hips snapped into hers.

She did as told, struggling as he still screwed her.

He hoisted her legs, the pit of his elbows supporting the back of her knees.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she got out through moans, one hand throwing her leg over his waist so it could occupy the free space of her neck.

“Making up for lost time, angel face,” he obtained a “matter-of-factly” tone, adding a wink while bringing her to her second orgasm.

And it continued like this all night. His abdomen flexed as each orgasm washed over both him and her, the moonlight shining on their gorgeous bodies.

“Gonna make you cum for each fucking day you decided to torture me.”

His hands had practically been engraved into her neck, red marks forming from how much time his nails spent digging into the sides of her necks. Her chest was littered in bites and hickies, a particularly dark bite embedded into the skin below her collarbone.

His semen painted her walls, filling her stomach as the curvature of his cock protruded her womb. He pulled out of her after earning a whopping twelve orgasms before her walls clenched around him unbearably tight, squirting around his length as her hands scrambled for any bit of his skin.

This orgasm waved through her like no other, her back entirely leaving the mattress as her nails pierced into Trevor’s skin. He pulled out of her, her jaw fallen slack as pants fell from her mouth. He admired the way his seed threatened to spill from her cunt, yet she clenched around nothing, sort of any attempt to cave it inside of her.

He hurried to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. He tenderly maneuvered the wet fabric around her folds, muttering encouraging words as she fought sleep.

“You can sleep down, angel. You did so well for me.”

“I can’t believe how outstandingly you performed.”

As much as she desired it, she didn’t go to sleep, waiting for Trevor to return. She let out a content sigh as she rolled over, one leg throwing itself over both of his as she held his body close to hers in her arms.

“You are one very determined man, aren’t you, Belmont?”

Her voice was hoarse, surely moaning and praising him for how well he was fucking her caused more than half of it. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, eventually shutting once Trevor kissed her temple.

“Only determined when it comes to you,” he muttered, his arms caving around her waist as he too fell into a deep sleep.

“Oh, fuck me harder,” she heard Sypha as she approached the kitchen, rubbing her eyes as she looked to see the three people she loved most.

“Don’t stop, Trevor! You’re fucking me so well!”

She couldn’t fight the pink tint that splayed itself upon her cheeks, the warmth radiating through the rest of her body.

“Oh, you guys are just jealous that you aren’t getting any of this Belmont dick,” he muttered, keeping his eyes on the scorching frying pan in front of him.

“Eh, you might be right about that one,” Alucard muttered, earning a snort from Y/N.

“Look who’s finally awake,” Sypha chuckled, looking at the deep red, soon to be purple marks decorating her best friend’s neck. “You two really went at it last night, didn’t you?”

“Pfft, it’s like he’s having sex with an animal or something,” Alucard retorted, his eyes trained on the bright red scratches on Trevor’s chest, back, and arms.

“Oh, shut it,” Y/N snapped, trying to hide the embarrassment by burying her face into the pit of her laid out arms. “When’s the last time you got laid?”

“Touché,” he muttered, an exaggerated sigh coming from his mouth as he took a sip of his overly brewed coffee.

“Besides, weren’t you two begging us to give you godchildren?” Trevor grinned, earning a groan from the rest of them. “I thought you’d be happy!”

#castlevania #castlevania netflix #castlevania series #castlevania smut #trevor belmont #trevor belmont imagine #trevor belmont imagines #trevor belmont smut #trevor belmont x reader #trevor belmont x you #trevor belmont x y/n #platonic!alucard x reader #platonic!adrian tepes x reader #platonic!sypha belnades x reader

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shadowsinger11 · 4 years

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Adult Fun

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Requested by @theweasleytwinsgirl: hi love, can i request a fred fic in which it is quarantine then reader and fred try do it but their baby keeps on crying, thanks love!

Warnings: smut in case you haven't figured this out, pouty Freddie is adorable af

A/N: My god, I actually loved this request a lot! And I really enjoyed writing it lmao

Gif is not mine

Masterlist

Having a child with Fred was a blessing. The war was merciful enough to let you leave unharmed and years later you were lucky enough to have a baby of your own as you had dreamed for such long time.

Fred was an incredible father, no doubt, he was extremely caring and loving, showing a much softer side to your kid; one you'd never guess he had. But with the responsibility of raising a child came very limited time for you and Fred to relax, and it was understandable to say that your husband had become unusually moody over the past year since your baby was born.

Fred truly loved being a parent, but he really missed those passionate, intimate moments he used to share with you as his wife. He missed having your body trembling beneath him, he missed the feeling of your heated skin moving against his.

His need for you was growing stronger overtime and it had become terribly obvious when he started to walk around your house shirtless more often, pants hanging a little lower and hair messier than usual. But you couldn't really blame him; you'd been craving some adult time with your lover just as much as he did.

When quarantine struck, you handled it surprisingly well.

It was unpleasant to not be able to meet your loved ones for awhile, but at least you and Fred had more time to spend with each other. That's when his touches became lingering, more urgent and even slightly rough. Gentle caresses of your thighs and hips would turn into squeezing the soft flesh and chaste kisses would end with his tongue between your lips.

You hated to admit that the lack of intimacy was taking a toll on you as well. And unfortunately, baby naps weren't of enough time for you to catch up with what you both desperately wanted.

And that's why you tried very hard to keep yourselves busy while being stuck at home with your baby asleep upstairs.

Dozens of movies, TV shows, board games and even some poor cooking attempts which ended in a disaster, did nothing to help you and Fred in the months of a global pandemic and you ended up lying on the couch in your living room with absolutely nothing to.

"Merlin, I cannot possibly watch another episode," grumbled Fred, tossing the remote aside. "My head's about to explode."

You chuckled at his antic, but couldn't help but agree, "Honestly, mine too."

Your legs were nestled between Fred's long ones, head resting peacefully on his chest as he lazily ran fingers through your hair. You buried your face into the cotton of his red T-shirt and inhaled his characteristic scent of coffee and cedar, not planning to move away anytime soon. It had been exceptionally rare to be able to spend entire days simply cuddling your lover, but once quarantine happened, you often found yourselves snuggled up on the couch in your pajamas and you cherished those moments of seemingly eternal peace and security.

The way Fred tenderly caressed your sides up and down nearly caused you to fall asleep and you hugged him closer.

"You know what we haven't done in awhile?" Fred's low, groggy voice brought you back to consciousness. You slightly pulled away to look at him and sat between his legs.

After months of not having to run the shop, Fred didn't find it as necessary as before to make himself that presentable and his wild ginger hair now nearly reached his shoulders. But at the end, it was you who most enjoyed his messy, laid back look.

You lifted a hand to caress his cheek, thin stubble tingling your fingertips, and asked timidly, already having a vague idea.

"What?"

Fred involuntarily licked his lips and reached a hand to the collar of your thin shirt, gently slipping the hem down your shoulder to expose your bare neck and collarbones. His thumb traced patterns over the sensitive skin, causing goosebumps to rise upon it, and you looked into his eyes, dark brown irises blown with desire which you hadn't encountered in a long time and made you shudder under his touch.

"It's been awhile since I last had you," he purred, the corners of his lips curling up in a dark smirk that immediately sent you into submission and had you craving. "Will you let me have you now, little girl?"

Your mind immediately wandered to your child.

"What about the baby?" you asked, worried.

"Nothing will happen as long as we're quiet," Fred shrugged, then switched back to his dominant persona and caressed your bottom lip with his thumb. "Can you be quiet for me?"

A strangled moan tore from your throat before you managed to stop it, and you eagerly placed your legs on either side of your lover's lap, wrapping hands around his neck. Fred's grin grew wider at your neediness and his hands came down to greedily squeeze your hips and ass. He slammed his mouth onto yours, devouring your desperate whimpers and causing you to grip the hair at the nape of his neck.

You rolled your hips against Fred's, hinting at how impatient you were, and he was more than happy to carefully lay you back on the couch and slip off your pajama shorts. His eyes stared at your black panties, undoubtedly damp at that point, and you could tell by his furrowed brow that Fred was already recalling all the things he'd planned to do to you for quite a long time.

"Darling, we have a lot of catching up to do," he breathed and ran a finger over your clothed core. It was warm and positively soaked, and Fred's mind went wild with uncontrollable hunger. His fingers tugged at the hem of your panties and slowly slid them down your thighs and legs, aiming to savor the moment before finally getting what he wanted.

The desire growing in his pants made it very clear that Fred needed release just as much as you did, so you let a hand wander down your body, giving him a show of your exposed pussy. You knew your game had worked when you earned a low growl from Fred, and he crawled between your legs, tongue wettening your swollen lips with one long lick.

"Fred..." you sighed and your head fell back, hands coming down to fist his ginger locks once again.

A cry from upstairs caused Fred to pull away.

You shared a knowing, slightly disappointed look. Fred groaned quietly, but rose to his feet nonetheless.

"I'll get it."

You lied back with a heavy sigh, staring up at the ceiling for the few extremely long minutes in which Fred was gone. You were relieved when the crying soon ceased, and you grinned widely as your lover crawled up to you, looking at you up and down.

"Where were we?" he asked smugly, smiling against your lips. You giggled into the kiss, arms grabbing onto his shoulders for support as his hand slipped between your thighs, fingers slyly playing with your folds and getting coated in your juices.

You bit back a low moan, buckling your hips up to create more friction. Fred's pace turned more urgent and he slipped two fingers inside you, thumb rubbing your swollen clit in rapid circles. Your sighs turned into choked gasps and your thighs began to quiver.

That was exactly what Fred had missed so dearly. He missed seeing you in such a pure state of pleasure; the rising and falling of your chest, your puffed parted lips, your eyes squeezed shut from the unbearable euphoria. Fred had terribly missed being the one to make you feel ecstatic.

Soon the spark in your belly ignited and you came hard around Fred's fingers, biting into the back of your hand to muffle the filthy moans that threatened to escape. That was the moment when he found you most beautiful; natural, radiant and happy.

His patience was wearing thin at that point, his erection aching from the lack ot touch, and Fred quickly took off his pants and underwear. His thick cock was painfully hard, the red swollen tip already leaking precum, and the prominent vein from the underside had you longing to taste it.

Fred gave his length a few slow strokes and your mouth began to water.

You eagerly spread your legs, inviting your lover to take you, and he nearly did, holding your thighs open to position himself at your entrance.

But the baby cried out again.

Fred cursed under his breath, the frustration finally taking over him for not being able to make love to you properly.

"I don't understand!" he whined, pulling back to sit on the couch. "It's not hungry, nor does it need a change of the diaper. What am I doing wrong?"

You moved closer to him and brushed a strand of ginger hair behind his ear. His pouty face both made you want to laugh and be sympathetic, and you gave him a sweet, apologetic smile.

"Chances are, it probably only needs a bit of some motherly charm to fall asleep."

Fred still seemed unsatisfied with having been interrupted after finally getting some alone time with you for the first time in what seemed like forever, but he didn't object as you put your clothes back on and left to check up on the baby.

However, before you walked up the stairs, you glanced at Fred over your shoulder with a mischievous smirk that immediately replaced the scowl on his face with a hungry expression.

"Give me a few minutes. And then I'm sucking you off."

@self-ship-love @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hufflexpuff @neovannii

Message me if you want to be added to the tag list, babes

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Masterlist

#fred weasley x reader smut #fred weasley x reader fluff #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred weasley headcanons #fred weasley headcanon #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins #weasley twins headcanons #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

OHHHH WE NED SOME OREO SMUT!!! PLLLEEEEAAASSEEEE !!!!

Anon 1: Could u do Cap fucking Loops? Pretty pls with a cherry on top! 🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒

Anon 2: Pls do one with Regulus walking in on coops lmao

Ask and ye shall receive! We haven’t done smut in a while...

Side note: I LOVE the term Oreo smut and would like to clarify for folks that this is the evening/ night after Jules left in the babysitting fics series! Coops certainly earned their Oreos! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for smut, praise kink, showering together

They barely made it to the couch. Remus’ mind was too foggy already to even consider the living room windows—he whined when Sirius broke away to reach up and close the blinds, and pinned his shoulders back down as soon as the sunlight dimmed. “Come on, come here,” he panted between biting kisses, cupping Sirius’ jaw in his hands and grinding down until he made him moan. “There you are.”

“God—fuck—Re, I want you.” Sirius’ hands pressed hard into the muscle of his back and he shivered as a wave of tingles washed over him. Three weeks and they had only managed a single rushed blowjob before their game. It was a miracle neither of them had popped a blood vessel.

“Lube’s upstairs.” Remus hitched the hem of Sirius’ shirt up and threw it to the side, immediately running his palms down the warm, smooth skin. He bent down to bite along Sirius’ collarbone.

“Off, off.” Sirius had his shirt halfway over his head before Remus could blink and he reached back to tug it away, drawing a harsh exhale from Sirius’ chest.

“What?”

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” A broad hand closed around the back of his neck and pulled him back down as Sirius wrapped his other arm around his waist and rolled his hips, making them both gasp. “Sweetheart, please.”

The nickname raised a million goosebumps across his whole body and he nodded, fumbling Sirius’ belt off before attempting to get his button undone with clumsy fingers. “I’m so horny I can barely think right now, holy fuck.”

Finally, the button came free, and he yanked Sirius’ jeans down his thighs as two warm palms slid down the back of his pants to cup his ass. “I missed you.”

“That’s so not fair.” His grip tightened and Remus arched into the feeling; the front of Sirius’ boxers was already turning dark with his arousal and the clear outline of his dick pressed against the tight fabric. “I love you so fucking—”

The front door flew open and someone stumbled in. “Am I late—oh, shit!”

All three of them shouted in alarm; in a flash, Remus was on the floor, disoriented and wincing as his tailbone smarted with pain. “Regulus, fuck off!” Sirius spluttered as he held the knit blanket over his entire front.

“What the hell are you doing here? Close the fucking door!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Regulus didn’t take his hand off his eyes as he stumbled backward and shut the front door. “I promised I’d say goodbye to Jules, but my interview ran long and—”

“Get out!” Sirius and Remus shouted at the same time.

“Sorry!” He blindly felt for the doorknob and ended up bumping into the end table, which he apologized to as well.

With an infuriated huff, Sirius stood up and grabbed the back of Regulus’ shirt collar, wrenching the door open and carefully guiding him onto the porch without showing the entire neighborhood his underwear. “I love you, Reg, but I’m confiscating your key if you don’t learn how to knock.”

“I did knock!”

“Knock louder!”

“Jules already left, I assume?”

Sirius closed the door and locked it. “Uncover your eyes before you walk down the steps, they’re slippery!” he called through the wood.

“Thanks!” came Regulus’ muffled reply.

Sirius trudged back to the couch and flopped facedown into the pillows with a groan. “I love you, but I’m going to murder your little brother,” Remus said from the floor as he stared at the ceiling.

“Be my guest.”

“Are you still horny? Please tell me you’re still horny.”

Instead of responding, Sirius stood up and grabbed Remus’ hand, hauling him upright into a bruising kiss that turned his knees to jelly. “Upstairs. Right now.”

Remus stuck his lower lip out and rubbed his tailbone. “My ass hurts.”

“I can fix that.” Sirius reached down and swept him off his feet into a cradlehold. “Voila.”

“Careful, I might get used to this,” Remus teased, draping his arms around Sirius’ shoulders and leaving lovebites on his neck as he walked up the stairs; they both winced when his shin hit the bannister and Sirius carefully maneuvered them through the bedroom door before dropping Remus unceremoniously on the bed.

“Distracting me while I’m carrying you up a staircase may not have been the best idea, mon coeur,” he said as he pressed his mouth to Remus’ sternum and worked his pants down his legs.

Remus smiled and stretched his arms over his head. “I’ve got faith in you.”

“For someone who was just scolding me for fairness—” A quick squeeze of his hipbones made him gasp. “—I would hope you’d be less hypocritical.”

“Lucky for me you like it, hmm?”

“I guess so.” Warm weight pressed Remus into the sheets as Sirius finally reached his face, pulling him closer until their noses bumped. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

“How’s your ass?”

Remus shrugged. “I mean, nowhere near as great as yours, but—”

“I meant are you okay?” Sirius laughed, pinching his ribs lightly. “You hit the floor pretty hard.”

“I’ll live,” Remus assured him with a brief kiss, licking into his mouth a bit. “Now hurry up, handsome.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows and propped himself on his elbows, just out of kissing range. “Hurry up? After three weeks of chastity? Hell no, sweetheart, I’m taking my time with you.”

A thrill raced through Remus’ belly and he ran his hands down Sirius’ sides. “Okay.”

“Yeah, you like the sound of that.” He grinned, leaning down to suck a hickey on the hinge of his jaw. “Want me to take my time? Go nice and slow?”

Remus angled his chin upward, but Sirius pulled away and he made a grumpy noise. “Not that slow.”

“Turn over.”

Captain voice!!! A small portion of his brain began throwing confetti and whooping, and he slowly turned onto his stomach, pillowing his head on his arms. Sirius waited there for a moment, straddling Remus’ waist and tracing patterns over his back; can’t make it too easy for him, he thought as he ground his hips upward.

Sirius smacked his thigh lightly. “Hey.”

“What?”

“You know what you did.”

“Do I?” Remus craned his neck to look over his shoulder and Sirius rolled his eyes.

“You always know what you’re doing. Are you going to be a brat today?”

Remus quirked an eyebrow. “Maybe I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

His gaze darkened into tarnished silver and he snapped the band of Remus’ briefs before sliding them off and dragging open kisses down his spine, vanishing from his sightline. Remus gasped as his hand dug into one side of his ass and his teeth sank into the other. “You’ve got a bruise on your tailbone.”

“Sirius,” he warned.

“I know.” The light bite turned into a gentle kiss. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I won’t. Just relax.”

Relax. I can do that. Remus settled his shoulders back into the pillow and exhaled slowly as Sirius littered his back with kisses and small bites, rubbing his thumbs in the divots on his lower back. “We haven’t been like this in a while,” he murmured, closing his eyes.

He felt Sirius smile against his shoulder blade. “We haven’t. I still want to see you, though.”

“That can be arranged.”

“Good boy.” The unexpected praise sent a jolt down Remus’ entire body and he shuddered; Sirius’ chest hitched. “That was fun.”

Remus definitely did not whine, and anyone who tried to claim otherwise had no proof. “Come on, baby.”

“I’m savoring the moment, sweetheart,” Sirius said with a smile in his voice as his breath ghosted past Remus’ ear and made his eyes fall shut. “Are you going to melt on me that quick?”

“I might.”

“Then turn over, I want to see how pretty you are.”

“I love it when you call me pretty,” Remus sighed, stretching his back as he rolled over again. His knees bracketed Sirius’ hips and he gave him a playful squeeze. “Nobody else has done that before.”

“Then everybody else is missing out.” Sirius took a deep breath as Remus drummed his fingers on his ribs and ran a palm down to slip under the elastic waistband of his underwear.

“These have been on too long. Off.”

Sirius gave him a look, but removed them all the same. “Who’s in charge here again?”

“I guess we’ll have to find out.” From the look in his eye, Remus could tell Sirius knew he was messing with him. He pushed upward in challenge, as if he was going to flip their positions, and Sirius firmly pressed his hip back down.

“It’s me.”

“Yes, Captain.” Remus bit his lower lip and saw Sirius’ eyes track the movement with a steady stare.

“You have done so much these past couple weeks while your family was here,” he said while he retrieved the lube from their nightstand. “And you were amazing with Jules, as always.”

Remus reached up and tucked a stray curl into its proper place. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Maybe. But right now, your only job is to lay there and relax, alright?”

“So I get to be a pillow princess tonight?” he laughed.

“A pillow prince,” Sirius corrected as a grin tugged at the side of his mouth. “A pillow lord. I’ll get you a crown if you want one.”

“But I like doing things for you.” Remus ran his thumb under Sirius’ eye, and he leaned into the touch, kissing his wrist. “And doing things to you.”

Sirius hummed in thought, settling onto his elbows as he uncapped the lube. “Let me rephrase, then. Your only job is to lay there and take it like a good boy for me. Think you can manage that?”

Remus tilted his head back and swallowed down a moan. “Yes.”

“You don’t have to be quiet for me,” he said, making his way down the column of Remus’ throat; his hands gently guided Remus’ thighs apart and first finger slid in after a moment of resistance. Teeth scraped against the long scar on his shoulder. “Just like that, sweetheart, you’re doing so well.”

“Yeah?” Remus breathed.

“Yeah. You can get a little melty if you want, I don’t mind.” Sirius moved his finger slowly, crooking it only once before resuming his steady presses. Remus almost missed the second and pushed back into it with a low noise of approval. The heavy warmth faded from his torso and neck as Sirius sat up—one of his palms wrapped partway around Remus’ thigh, pushing it back toward his chest and using his side as a brace to keep it there.

Remus’ eyes flashed open and he gasped; his hand flew over his head to grab the headboard as his other twisted in the sheets at the new angle. Sirius added a third finger and, after a minute of adjustment, began prepping him in earnest. “Fuck, that’s good,” Remus groaned, pushing back onto his fingers.

“Easy, sweetheart, no need to rush.”

“But I want to.” Remus pried his fingers off the headboard and pulled on Sirius’ shoulder. “Come on, fuck me already.”

“Not with that attitude.”

“Please, baby?” He made eye contact with Sirius and pouted his lower lip a bit; not enough to be true puppy eyes, but just on the right side of needy that it would catch his attention.

“You’re adorable.”

“And you’re drop-dead gorgeous.” A lazy smile spread across his face when Sirius hit his sweet spot and he arched into it, pressing his knee into the side of Sirius’ ribs. Thank god for flexibility, he thought. “Yeah, like that.”

“Like that?” Sirius pushed a little higher and Remus’ jaw went slack with a huff. He nodded, feeling desperation seep in, and Sirius’ lips twitched up. “Ready?”

“Been ready for fifteen minutes, but—oh.” Remus gripped Sirius’ forearms as he began to push in; between the lube and his special talent that still drove Remus half out of his mind, the glide was smooth. “Oh, fuck, I missed this.”

“Remember to breathe, mon coeur.” Sirius’ voice sounded tight and Remus took a shaky breath that turned into a whimper when he pulled out again.

“Wait, no, come back.”

Sirius laughed, a little strained as he dropped to his elbows and pressed their foreheads together. Remus wove his hands in the soft locks on pure reflex. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“It’s so good with you every time.” The last few words came on a punched-out exhale as Sirius’ dick grazed his prostate; his leg spasmed at the feeling and he wrapped it around Sirius’ mid-back, doing his best to keep the other from sliding up as well.

“Are you sure?”

“Every time,” Remus said, firmer. “Every time, because it’s you oh my god keep doing that.”

“This?” Sirius pressed the pads of his fingers into the muscle of Remus’ lower back and ground into him, pulling a soft cry from his throat. “Good job. And you kept your leg up, too?” Remus nodded, breathless. “You’re doing so well. Remember, sweetheart, all you have to do is take it. That’s it.”

“Useful,” Remus panted. “Wanna be—wanna be good for you.”

“You don’t have to be useful to be good for me,” Sirius said softly, guiding one of his hands out of his hair to kiss his pulse point. “I always think you’re good.”

Remus gave him a playfully skeptical look. “Always?”

“Most of the time.” Sirius smiled and laced their fingers together, pressing his hand into the mattress by his head. “But you do that on purpose.”

“Looks like you’ve got me figured out.” He turned his head to the side as the next thrust made his vision speckle with black. “Need to get some new tricks.”

“Hmm.”

The pressure on his palm increased as Sirius transferred his weight and wrapped his hand around Remus’ shaft, giving him a quick tug that drew a strangled noise of surprise form him. His straight leg kicked out and nearly connected with Sirius’ ankle. “Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to.”

“It’s alright, I know you didn’t.” How the fuck does he keep his voice so even? Remus shuddered and squeezed Sirius’ waist between his thighs. “God, you’re strong now.”

“ ‘m I hurting you?”

“Nope.” Sirius kissed him, gentle in contrast to literally everything else he was doing that made the bed creak and Remus unravel. “I like it. I love you.”

The words made Remus feel all syrupy, like molasses replaced the blood in his veins. “I love you, too.”

“We’re getting married in five months, sweetheart.” Sirius mouthed along his neck and jaw, paying special attention to the edges of his scars and the freckles that had mostly faded throughout the winter. “Do you know what the best part of that is?”

“Huh?”

“I’ll get to tell everyone how amazing my husband is. How pretty, and strong, and talented, and wonderful.” Remus’ chest prickled with a blush and Sirius shushed him softly, skimming his thumb over the crown of his dick until he whined. “It’s the truth, mon coeur. You always get so flustered, it’s so cute.”

“Sirius—Sirius, baby, I’m gonna come if you keep doing that.” Remus gripped his hand and slid his thigh along his side, unable to stop the trembling in his torso. Sirius’ hand was tight and quick around him and the pressure—fuck, the pressure—was deep enough that Remus could practically feel it in his throat. “Sirius, Sirius, please.”

“Any time you want, Re,” Sirius said, though his voice had become breathier. “Any time. You deserve it.”

Remus came with a gasping moan, pressing the side of his face into the pillows and flexing his fingers around Sirius’ as he arched his back. Sirius stroked him through it like the absolute sweetheart he was, and after taking a moment to collect his scattered thoughts, Remus pushed him onto his back.

His hip was a bit sore from holding his leg up for so long, but not so sore that he couldn’t ride out the aftershocks and bring Sirius over the edge as well. He ground down slowly, bringing one of Sirius’ hands up to kiss his wrist between heavy breaths. “You with me yet?” he asked into the sweat-salted skin. He pulled off his dick and laid on top of Sirius’ chest, running a hand through his hair.

Sirius muttered something unintelligible and draped his arms over Remus’ back, pulling him close enough to hug. “We rocked parenting this week,” he said after a few heartbeats of comfortable quiet.

“Damn right we did.”

“We totally deserved the last…” He cracked an eye open to glance at the bedside clock. “Hour of activity.”

“Except Regulus.”

“Except fucking Regulus, mon dieu,” Sirius laughed. “I really am going to take away his house key.”

“I think he’s going to need therapy,” Remus snorted and tossed the lube into the drawer again.

“He didn’t see anything terrible, it’s fine.” Sirius closed his eyes with a smile and tucked his face into Remus’ neck. “Hmmm, goodnight.”

“Oh, no, no, no, we’re showering.” A truly spectacular pout made him laugh. “At least, I’m showering, and you’re welcome to join me.”

The pout disappeared into a puppylike grin and Remus clambered out of bed, pulling his ridiculous fiancé along by the hand as they stumbled into the bathroom and turned on the water.

“We’ll need to buy more lube soon. We’re almost out,” Sirius said, snagging Remus’ shampoo off the bathtub ledge.

“You know that’s mine, right?”

“Yup. Turn around.”

“Every now and then I get a little bit nervous, that the best of all the years have gone by,” Remus sang under his breath as Sirius’ carefully ran a hand through his hair.

“Turn around.”

“Every now and then I get a little bit terrified, and then I see the look in your eyes!”

“Turn around!”

“Every now and then I fall apart!” they half-sang, half-shouted together.

Remus closed his eyes as shampoo began running down his forehead. “And I need you here tonight!” he belted with far more drama than strictly necessary. “And I need you more than ever!”

“And if you only hold me forever…?” Sirius trailed off slightly.

“It’s ‘and if you only hold me tight’,” Remus said, mock-exasperated. “God, Sirius, it’s like you don’t even want to be Bonnie Tyler.”

“My bad,” he laughed, kissing the back of Remus’ shoulder. “Ugh, I got soap in my mouth.”

“Thanks for washing my hair.”

“Thanks for correcting my lyrics.”

“Anything for you, love.” Remus leaned in for a kiss, making sure to keep his face out of the shower spray. He was pleasantly sore and absolutely exhausted—a good night’s sleep sounded like well-deserved perfection right about now.

225 notes · View notes

plow-and-propose · 3 years

Photo

Sew Your Own Pico!

Now that the Rune Factory Adventure Zine is out (and because I kept some semblance of a cosplay diary this time haha) I thought I’d share the Pico-making process. Hope you enjoy!

(Please excuse the terrible lighting as most of these were taken at 3am)

I originally planned on using a porcelain doll, to really capture that haunted doll aesthetic, but I couldn’t find anything big enough in my price range and besides, I liked the idea of making something from scratch. Using this pattern, I made a rough (extremely rough haha) test version of a cloth doll. I wanted Pico to be as big as possible, like actual child sized, so I increased it by a ½ inch for the real thing. I also adjusted the shape of the head to give it a more anime face.

(side note - I didn’t understand that the ‘face’ part of the pattern was supposed to go over the top of an already sewn and stuffed head, so my first few attempts did not look good lmao)

With my pattern sorted I began from the feet up. I made the shoes out of stiff interfacing, reinforcing the tops with wire rings. The pink is the same colour as the pink on Dolce’s outfit, which I think is a nice touch from the design artist. The legs themselves are black t-shirting with wire inside. In retrospect I shouldn’t have used a stretchy fabric, but they worked out well enough.

With the legs done I made the torso, adding a completely unnecessary but very cute cloth heart. I forgot to take separate pictures of the arms, but they’re attached with button joints (allowing them to pivot) and have wire inside so they can be posed.

Here’s the headless horror:

I also forgot to take pictures of the head (mostly because I was struggling so much haha) but here is the completed base doll (and me, for scale)!

(I was SO HAPPY she could stand up like that but unfortunately the head and especially hat were too heavy in the end ;w;)

I had to take the head off to work on the clothes. It’s funny - I thought this would be easy, because I wouldn’t have to worry about getting the outfit on and off, right? It didn’t even have to be comfortable, I could just sew it on and do whatever, right? Well, that definitely made it simpler, but I was still making a whole cosplay in miniature!

Also I couldn’t work in my room at night because I was boarding a neighbor’s nocturnal lizard:

(his name is Jordan and he’s a crested gecko)

For Pico’s lil pantaloons I used an old pattern for a pair of shorts as a base. I made two layers, both to give them some definition and to make the ‘petals’ a little neater. I used mesh and wire to support the skirt (a circle skirt with the stripes added on top) but I wish I’d made a proper petticoat, it would’ve held the shape much better.

The torso was pretty straightforward as far as shape went, but the cloth I was using hates to curve and didn’t hem well. I used the decorative borders to secure and cover the edges instead.

(acupuncture……………)

(putting those borders on is the second most fiddly thing I’ve ever done)

Her coattails were just triangles of fabric, lined and bordered, although I cut them too small the first time and had to redo them.

Her shoulder mantle gave me trouble, though. Ideally I would’ve used ready-made felt balls for the bobbles, but it was impossible to find anything that matched the deep purple fabric I’d bought (which was the closest I could find to the in-game colour). Using a coin as a stencil, I cut two layers of cloth, then blanket stitched the curves by hand and stuffed them to get that 3D shape.

(THIS is the most fiddly thing I’ve ever done lmao)

The collar was pretty easy, just basic shapes, and it looks quite thick so I used two layers of fabric. The bats on Pico’s wrists took me a little longer but once I drew one good stencil it was easy. Then the body was practically complete!

(I added the buttons right after taking this lol)

Next was the hair and face. Let’s just check to see if it’s in proportion…

…yeah that looks about right.

The nose and mouth are embroidery thread. The hair is acrylic wool, mounted on stuffed cloth cones. I used both thread and fabric glue to keep the wool in the place, and ‘styled’ Pico’s bangs with fray-stop. This part was relatively easy, but took forever.

(Somewhere around here I began to get really, really into the Transformers cartoons)

With the hair done I started on the hat. Oh boy… the hat. Hats are tricky at the best of times. Fortunately I don’t think Pico’s weird head thingy counts as a hat. Unfortunately this didn’t make things easier.

I cut large disks of pattern paper, using the circle skirt method. Once I found the right size I copied it onto more stiff interfacing, which I then covered in a ‘tube’ of pink fabric. The ‘arms’ and ‘head’ are filled with stuffing (really got my money’s worth there!) although there’s an additional layer of cotton cloth under the pink sections so stop them from stretching out of shape.

I wanted to make the stars 3D but in the end I took the simple option and made them flat, just gold faux leather over pieces of craft foam. The eyes and whiskers are black felt, secured with fabric glue.

(Does this look like the sort of person who would make your life difficult?)

Once I’d finally figured out how the head and face pattern worked, I’d planned on making different, detachable faces for different expressions. In the end I just made different individual features because hook tape sticks very nicely to doll muslin. Finally, all that was left to do were the eyes… and this is where I really hit a wall.

Here she is nearly finished, except…

I couldn’t make her eyes look right :(

I’m still not sure what the problem is. Something to do with the size and shape? Or maybe it’s just impossible to translate anime eyes to 3D lmao. Don’t get me wrong, I’m very happy with the final photo, but I really wanted the option of a smiling Pico. I was running out of time, however, so I went with the funny pose instead of the cute one - just made some > signs from felt and a mouth from spare cloth.

So here she is! A little crumpled from sitting in my closet, but I still love how she looks ^-^

Maybe one day I’ll figure the eyes out and do a a shoot just for Pico. As it is, I learned so much and I’m SO glad I did this. Not sure if I’ll ever put these doll making skills to use, but you never know with cosplay!

#rune factory #rune factory 4 #rf4 #rune factory cosplay #my cosplay

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ironmansuuucks · 4 years

Text

Cherry Pop

Dewey Finn x female reader

Evening all, gotcha a smutty Dewey Finn x reader here! so obviously.. warning lmao - it’s sweet yet exciting and I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: SMUT (female recieving)

(As always this beautiful aesthetic was made by my absolute favourite @thewolfisapartofmysoul - ily💗)

The way you sucked, and licked that lollipop on the walk back home was really driving Dewey mad. Every time he heard It pop, from your mouth he sowre he felt it in his groin. And he swore you were doing it deliberately.

You guys were headed home from a Friday date night at the movies, Birds of Prey and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn. You had begged Dewey for weeks to take you. And as much as he wouldn’t admit it, he fucking loved the film. He was glued to it.

“watcha think of the film Mr. F?” you attempted your best Harley Quinn impression, pulling the lollipop out with a smack. Dewey held back a moan, disguising it as a chuckle, as he looked at the way the sugar stick was covered in your saliva, dripping. “yeah it was good! Did you like it sweetheart?” he took your hand in his as you nodded enthusiastically.

“hey puddin…” you looked at the candy you had been sucking on, Dewey internally squealed at the nickname… “how many licks do you think it would take to get to the centre of this lollipop?”.

You knew exactly what you were doing, and you smirked to yourself as you watched Dewey’s hand go down to his groin to fix himself through his trousers as he glanced around making sure no one was watching him. No one was around, it was 8 PM and the streets were getting pretty dark.

“I don’t know princess… but I’d like to find out how many licks it would take to get to your centre”. He sounded dark and it was quiet, thick with a lust he hadn’t yet showed. It sent flutters to your abdomen as your cheeks blushed. You couldn’t even look at him, but you slowly wrapped your tongue around the cherry flavoured sweet, putting it back into your mouth.

Only a few more steps until you reached the door to the apartment building. The tension in the air was thick and neither of you could wait until you stepped through the front door.

Before you unlocked the front door, you turned around, your back against it and looked up at Dewey. Your eyes shone into his, then down to his lips, then back up to his eyes.

You moved closer to him, his head moving towards yours as his eyes shut, you felt his breath on your lips as you placed the gentlest of kisses on his lips, like butterfly wings. He was needier and went to kiss you a little harder but was stopped by the taste of cherry, as you popped the sweet treat into his mouth.

His eyes popped open to see you smirking at him, still holding the stick of the sweet. You wriggled it a little in your grip, his head moved with your light movements, never breaking eye contact. The heat was filling up within you as those hazel eyes stared straight into your soul, undressing you there and then. The air was so quiet, and nothing could be heard from the world. This moment was yours; between only you and your favourite boy.

He moaned into the lollipop and you could feel him swirling it in his mouth. God wouldn’t this be embarrassing if anyone saw?

You let go of the stick, batting your eyelids at him a few times before unlocking the front door. “fucking tease…” he mumbled behind you, making you smirk.

You could already feel his hands on your waist as you opened the door, and as soon as it was shut he had you against the wall. It was light, and playful, and his hands came to your jaw, resting there.

You glanced down at the lollipop in his mouth, biting your lip at the anticipation. His cheeks were flushed, and his hands were a little cold from the outside, cooling down your burning face. His lips were wet, and a little pink… and you knew they would now taste like cherry. Your eyes wandered to his hair. A little messy, his curls falling to his forehead and it was undeniably Dewey hair. Then you met his eyes. They were soft, and excited and his breath was a little ragged. Your rockstar was easily wound up.

Your hand reached up and lightly grabbed a hold of the stick. He opened his mouth, allowing you to take it out, but you swirled it around his mouth one last time before slowly dragging it through his lips, to which he replied with licking his bottom lip once the candy had escaped him.

You brought the treat to your mouth, and dragged your tongue up the slick candy once, never breaking eye contact. He watched you intently, examining the way your tongue slid up, gathering the previous wetness, before swallowing it down.

He shook his head a little before smirking at you, bringing his face closer to yours. You grabbed his t shirt, pulling it and him flush against you, closing the gap between you as your lips met and eyes fluttered shut. Dewey let out a deep, guttural moan as his body pressed against yours, both lips wet and a little sticky from the shared, sweet cherry delicacy.

“you taste so good baby…” he groaned between kisses.

“I taste like you rockstar..” you giggled, opening your mouth, allowing him deeper access. His hands worked their way down to your waist, and then to your ass, sticking his hands in your jean pockets as his leg pushed it’s way between yours.

You whimpered as his thigh brushed your core just right, the jean fabric causing friction between your legs, making you a little weak.

“ah, Dewey” his name spilled through your mouth involuntarily, as your head hit the wall behind you at the pleasure.

“so good baby… I love hearing you moan my name… let’s hear some more hmm?” his voice was deep, and enough to make you come undone on the spot.

He began kissing down your exposed jaw and neck, as his hands came up to your shoulders and pushed your jacket down and off of your body. His pushed his thigh up and back, the friction becoming more intense as you felt it drag down your clit a little. Your ground down on him a little, desperate for more, little moans leaving your open mouth, eyes squeezed shut.

His hands moved down, to the button of your jeans, slowly fiddling to undo them. “Um excuse me.. but is there enough room in your pants for me?” he teased, making you laugh a little through your moaning. Your hands went to his hair, the lollipop dropping to the floor as your fingers combed through it and pulled it a little when you felt his hand slip underneath your jeans.

“that’s it baby.. let’s hear you.. let’s hear those pretty sounds” he praised you as his skilled, guitar playing fingers teased your clit from the outside of your panties. You pretty much went limp in his hold, the feeling so bliss and so right as he traced patterns along the wet fabric.

“uh.. Dewey.. give me more…” you cried, needing just that little bit more from him in order to chase your high.

“what’s the magic word baby.. lemme hear that” he teased you, rubbing a little harder.

“p-please” you whined, your eyes opening and looking at him, your eyes dark and lustful.

“as you wish sweetheart” he smiled, his head moving to your and kissing you lightly a his hands moved up, and underneath your panties. You felt you senses heightening as his hands trailed down your skin, to the place you needed him the most.

His rough, calloused fingers dragged down to your clit, circling his middle finger over your sensitive bud. You inhaled a breath at the contact, your stomach kneading, making you feel a little dizzy.

“so wet for me baby girl.. all this for me?” he groaned, biting your lip the slightest bit. You were leaning against him now, your hands on his shoulders, supporting yourself.

“you ready baby?” he moved his nose to sit with yours, as he looked up to your eyes that were squeezed shut in pleasure. You nodded, your breath becoming heavier.

One of his hands went to your thigh as he hiked it up, holding it against him, making you jolt a little against him. Then, his middle finger teased over your entrance, revelling in just how wet it was, before slowly, pushing it inside of you. He kissed you deeply, feeling you moan into him, before he slowly pumped his finger in and out of you.

“Dewey…” his name was rolling on your tongue as he began to leave hot, wet kisses on your collar bone.

“I hear you baby, I hear you” he smirked into you as he swiftly inserted another finger, feeling you clench around him. You swallowed his scent as your head fell to his shoulder in pleasure. He chuckled the slightest at how limp you felt in his grasp. Arousing you, aroused him.

Dewey pushed his fingers a little deeper, hitting that sweet spot ne knew got you just right, and he moved so his forehead was resting against you. He wanted to see his girl come undone in front of him but, your eyes were still squeezed shut.

“look at me baby.. I want to see those pretty eyes.. come on” he pleaded.

You opened your eyes, staring into his, your mouth lightly hanging open in the pleasure. “that’s it princess…” he could feel you flutter around his fingers a few times before he inserted a third and final finger, curling and pushing them just right as his thumb went to rub your clit.

“Dew… Dew I… Im gonna cum” you panted, never breaking eye contact with your skilled guitarist. “Do it baby.. cum for me, please” he smirked, searching your eyes.

Suddenly the knot in your stomach came undone as the familiar white bliss coursed through you, your eyes never leaving his.

“so good.. amazing sweetheart.. you’re beautiful when you cum for me baby..” he continued, allowing you to ride out your high.

You kissed him as he removed his fingers from you. “thank you Dew..” you panted, catching your breath.

He chuckled, “don’t thank me yet…” his hands went to your thighs, hiking you up on his hips.. “I’m not done with you yet..” he smirked.

You smirked back… “well, why don’t you slip into something a little more comfortable… like me?”.

Tags: @thewolfisapartofmysoul @texasblues @paxenera @heknowshisherbs @missihart23 @geminiacally @go-commander-kim @gegehaddock @baby-beej @hoodoo12 @large-unit @bugdrinkss @ssheinaa @demonwifey @beetle-herbs

#alex brightman #dewey finn #dewey finn x reader #school of rock #beetlejuice #beetlejuice the musical #dewey #school of rock the musical #dewey finn imagine

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steveusesfaberge · 5 years

Text

Ice Cream and Cassettes

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Byers!Reader

Request: Hey, could I have a Steve Harrington x reader where the reader is a Byers. They’re hanging out in her room and all but Joyce comes home so he as to try to sneak out of her room through the window like the “ninja” he is. Lmao. Jonathon spots him, doesn’t say anything, but does talk to Joyce/the reader. But then Steve and the reader meet up at scoops the next day. She tells him and he tries to make it up to her in a cute and cheesy way. Can’t wait to see what you write. Thanks!

Summary: Hanging out with your boyfriend isn’t a crime...yet, when he’s sneaking out your window in the evening - and your big brother catches it...yeah...that about sums up where Y/N is now. Steve’s stealth isn’t as flawless as he thinks it is...luckily, ice cream fixes every problem! Or...at least the cute sailor boy serving it can!

Type/Style: Requested, Imagine, female pronouns

Warning(s): Fluff, fluff, fluff, fluff...A bit of angst, overprotective Jonathan, bad dance moves, and a fluffy lil’ sailor boy...

Word Count: 6,400-ish

a/n: I had an absolute blast writing this! I got to jam to 80s hits while writing?? Heck yeah!! <3 I hope this request was to your liking!! This was sooo cute to write! :)

I hope you like my take on the request! <3

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The music was deafening - Queen was blasting through the small room; the noise pulsing through the walls and silencing anything that wasn’t Under Pressure for the time being. Band posters hung all around the bedroom, accompanied by hundreds of Polaroids...(she was the kid-sister of Byers...what did you expect?), and enough stuffed animals that made Steve want to cuddle Y/N until her face turned blue (or red from embarrassment; he wasn’t gonna be picky). He was wearing his black shades (despite being inside - and the sun having gone down a few hours ago), Steve’s hair was messy and out of place as he danced across the carpeted space, yet The Hair Harrington couldn’t truly bring himself to care. He’d pop his collar ever now and then (like the cool kid he was), slick back his hair dramatically, pull a goofy-face, and portray the most unruly of choreographies...

Y/N wasn’t better off - she had her hair held up in a limp bun, y/c/h hair strands sticking to her forehead from a light sweat she’d worked up from dancing for the past hour or so... She had an oversized striped boyfriend shirt on (ironically, it was actually Steve’s...authentically branding it as a boyfriend shirt), a random graphic tee to match, and her blue jeans rolled just above her ankles. She had a pair of sunglasses on as well - though hers carried a quirky pattern of colorful geometric configurations. With every move that Harrington busted, Y/N had an even better (worse) one to counter.

There were photos littering the floor with a promise of I’ll pick them up later, and laughter was the only thing able to outdo the cassette player. Their shoes had been forgotten in the mix long ago, thrown to the side as they continued their party (only having Steve grin like a madman because Y/N’s socks were adorably mismatched, raising mid-calf, hiding beneath the fabric of her pants). Steve was bent over, hands rested on his knees for just a moment, catching his breath as he watched his girlfriend scurry across the room to the tapes, replacing it for a new one. He smiled at her state of bliss his eyes flickering to the cassettes - feeling proud to have been the one to buy at least, one-fourth of the large collection (Jonathan being the main source; he was the one to get her into keeping a collection as it was. Steve only fueled her addiction).

“What’s next, babygirl? Hit me with it!” He cheered, making a loud whooping sound, pumping his fist in the air. Y/N giggled breathlessly, a wide grin on her lips as she spun on her heels to face him, just as the music began to play (mind you, she was being careful when using it...it was not hers - she’d snuck the player from Jon’s room while he was out with Nancy...it wasn’t like he was using it...and while she had one, it was a portable; being much smaller, not as loud - and totally not apt for their jam session).

As the beginning of the song rolled in, Steve had the brightest smile on his face (God, she’d kill to just kiss him right now...but they did have a dance party on the line...it’d have to wait, she supposed).

She shimmed over to him, Steve grabbing her by her thin waist, pulling Y/N into him. She was pressed to a half-way dressed torso, his pink button-up having all the said buttons - undone, due to him getting rather hot in the small room - not that Y/N was complaining.

She comfortably placed her hands on his bare chest, tracing a heart on the exposed skin, right above where his actual one was. Steve hummed in response, winking at her with that dreamy Harrington suave style of his. Tapping his foot to the fast-paced song, readying his throat to scream the lyrics.

“If I--,” He began while leaving one arm wound around Y/N’s hips, the other coming up to point to himself. She laughed, filling in the rest of the lyric,”--I get to know your name!” Steve snickered at the way she lifted a hand, using her finger to write Steve in the air, then pursing her lips - crossing her eyes at him.

“Well if I, could trace your private number, babyyyyy,” he added, his tune off-key, and his words way too loud; dipping, at least, five octaves trailing off. Though Y/N could only see how perfectly straight his teeth were - admiring the way his lips articulated each syllable and how sexy his voice could be.

He held a “phone” up to his face, using the hand-gesture with a little shake, then blew a kiss to Y/N, while she dramatically spun out of his arms - reaching to catch the kiss.

“All I know is that to me!” Y/N sung while clutching her hands to her chest, throwing her head back in the process. Steve was bobbing his head to the music, his arms thrown out, his legs kicking out every once in a while (representing a flamingo on skates rather than someone attempting to dance, in L/N’a opinion).

“You look like you’re lots of fun—,” Steve proclaimed, pointing in her direction, chuckling as Y/N made her sunglasses wiggle on her face - pulling an adorable fish-face that shot an urge through his whole body to seize her and pepper her face and neck with kisses.

As the chorus trickled in, Steve was quickly grabbing for her hands. He began to spin her (a bit violently, but he was just really into the song), shouting the words as if she couldn’t hear them herself,” You spin me rightttt round, baby! Right round like a record, baby!--” In between her laughter, she joined him; the chorus being vocalized by the two in...a...harmony only perfect to their ears (and their ears alone).

Steve loved days like these; where there wasn’t a care in the world - the only thing to keep in mind being; what song to play next? He loved the way Y/N just let it all go - unraveling to reveal the goofball he’d fallen in love with oh-so-long ago... Of course, it’d taken some convincing for her to be his goofball - she’d known him throughout his...unmentionable phase...and her oldest brother, Jonathan, hadn’t always been his biggest fan. Though, after she got to know him, his Senior Year onward - they found out how much they had in common (along with the fact that Steve confirmed to be a complete dork).

Harrington was spinning her around as the song came to a close, and when the cassette stopped playing - a slight hiccup in its sound - they both landed on her mattress. Y/N rested atop him while she buried her face there; laughing. Steve was out of breath, but nonetheless, he laughed with her. Peals of their hilarity better than any song he’d ever heard.

“You’re so weird,” Y/N huffed after taking some time to collect herself. Her hands folded across his uncovered chest, her chin resting on the flimsy bridge her fingers built, entwined together to keep her head up. Steve fake pouted, using his arms as support for his own head, poking his tongue out at Y/N while she rested between his legs, half off the bed.

“Says you! You suck ass at dancing, babes,” he teased while reaching out to boop her nose. Only having her retract with a half-grin, half-grimace appearing on her lips - producing a soft noise in response to the cute look on her face.

Y/N sighed, unfolding her arms, pulling them around him, resting the side of her face on his chest - causing Y/N to look squashed against him. “It’s ‘kay, Stevers...we can suck ass together, ‘cause we both could use some dance lessons.”

Harrington grinned, lifting a hand to undo Y/N’s sloppy bun - her y/c/h hair falling down in a now deformed bunch. “What about that Jazzercise place at Starcourt?” he suggested with a growing smirk, seeing his girlfriend hold back a scoff.

“Pfft, so you can just stare at my ass all day? Yeah -- sure, buddy,” Y/N tittered while shaking her head.

Steve rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders, running his hands through her tangled hair (Y/N had tied it up for almost the entire day, so the feeling of his fingers combing through her scalp was heavenly...darling Steve, knew this too).

“You’d be winning too, hun...I mean...it’s not like my ass is going anywhere. It’s like a win-win situation!” That only earned him an uproar of giggles.

Steve hummed happily at her fit, and wrapped his legs around her waist, keeping her in place. The squeal she objected, only egging him on.

“Steeveee! Let go!” Y/N demanded while trying to wriggle from his hold (she cursed his time playing basketball, his legs were unmoving...). By now, his hand had fallen away from her (somewhat) untangled hair and he only shook his head - keeping her still, clamped between his long limbs - holding her face up with one hand. He squeezed her cheeks together and she only sulked.

“Wet me goh, Steeev!” He gave Y/N a smirk, raising a dark brow at her cute attempt of: Let me go, Steve!

“Sorry, honey - I don’t speak gibberish.” Y/N groaned at his statement, whacking his hand away from her. “Steve Harrington! -- If you don’t let me go, this ins--,” her words and Steve’s chuckling was cut off when the sound of a car pulling up could be heard.

“Joyce?” Steve asked promptly, releasing Y/N, the girl slipping to sit on the floor as her boyfriend scrambled to get his things together. “Probably,” she replied, collecting his shoes for him while he clumsily buttoned his shirt up (he didn’t need it to look bad if he got caught).

Steve was now striding over, slipping his sneakers on with his usual awkward struggle; walking at the same time, towards her window (he regularly snuck in and out in when the situation called for it...this being one of them) - which wasn’t the best idea for a clumsy guy like him... “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N/N! Come see me at work?” He rushed out questioning her while pushing the pane up, his body turned to her as he stuck a leg out the opening.

Y/N shuffled to him and elevated his face - sharing a soft kiss before he departed. “Mhmm! Will probably wants to hang out there, anyways - heard him mention it this morning,” she explained while holding his bicep as he swung his other leg over (Harrington wasn’t known for his perfect balance after all).

Waving him off - she shut the window (though leaving it unlocked, as Steve often liked to come back - even when he really shouldn’t). As she watched his figure disappear from sight, she pretended she didn’t see Steve trip over his own two feet and she ignored the muffled curse of dissatisfaction he exhibited. Y/N then took the liberty to collect all the developed Polaroids from the floor - they were still scattered across her carpet, and she bent down to compile them.

Holding one between her fingers, she smiled at it - deciding to keep it by her bedside (maybe buy a simple frame to match) - as it was quite cute. Steve had his left arm around her shoulders, his right arm holding up a peace sign, as he smiled brilliantly at the camera. His shirt was unbuttoned only at the top, and Y/N had her head resting there by his collarbone. One hand holding the camera, the other wrapped around his waist.

Admiring the picture - Y/N drew it to her chest, sighing in content. Lost in her own little world; she examined and accumulated all the photographs for the next few minutes.

Most of the pictures she hung up, were either of her family, the kids, or Steve. She cherished all of them though, and they were fastened to the wall with some clear tape and the occasional thumbtack. It was Jonathan who had gotten her into photography - he’d take her to the darkroom in school after hours one day, and showed her how to develop the photos, how to turn negatives to positives, etc.

Eventually, he got her a small camera of her own - to go around taking photos as she pleased (Y/N kept it on top of her dresser for easy access). It was actually Steve who got her the Polaroid camera - his argumentation had been; what’s the point in doing all that other shit when this little baby does it all for you? The pictures ready in like...a minute and you’re done! He’d given it to Y/N as a present for their three month anniversary - in return, she had gotten him a necklace (which, Steve refuses to take off - he holds the silver chain like the secrets to the universe; precious and miraculous).

Y/N was neatly organizing the stack of newly made memories when her mother’s voice echoed down the hall. “Y/N? Sweetie? Could you please come here, and help me with the groceries?” Placing the stash of photos on her nightstand, Y/N answered while walking to the doorway. “Yeah! I’ll be right there, mom!”

Entering the kitchen, Joyce was already unpacking. “Hey, sweetie! How was your day?” Y/N was about to answer when someone beat her to it.

“Oh, I’m sure her day was fine - in fact, I just saw a ninja leaving the house!” Both women turned to see Jonathan leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.

Y/N placed the cartoon of eggs away and rolled her eyes. “Ninja? I think you’re delusional, Jonny.”

Jonathan only huffed, tossing something down on the countertop between mother and daughter. Y/N’s y/c/e eyes widened. It was one of her and Steve’s Polaroids from this afternoon... This one, in particular, was of Steve pressing a kiss to her temple. He’d taken the photo, she knew by memory, and by the fact that it was a bit blurry (Harrington had never been a steady-hand).

“Look familiar?” Jon asked while carrying the orange juice to place in the fridge.

Joyce leaned over, examining the photo - not really seeing anything wrong with it (maybe questioning the brunette’s undone shirt - but the sunglasses they both flashed, had her think it was simply for aesthetic), even thinking it was cute. “What’s wrong with it?” Y/N asked while crossing her arms.

“You know, I’m not sure what the big deal is either - it’s just a photo, Jonathan,” Joyce added while trying to decide what to do with a few canned fruits.

The boy sighed. “The point is -- Steve was here, and he wasn’t supposed to be. He thinks he’s so sneaky leaving - but I watched him trip over nothing on his way out...”

Y/N tried not to imagine Harrington’s reaction to being caught - probably an uncomfortable cough and a side-glance away from her brother. Oh, hey man...just going for a walk...um...past your uh...house... probably on the tip of his tongue.

“How do you know that’s not an old photo, anyway?” Y/N pushed while walking to the wooden cabinets to put the cereal boxes in their proper spots.

“Y/N...I watched Steve drop this one on his way out,” Jonathan hissed,” And what didn’t you get about my comment on your day? Ninja, huh?” Joyce looked to her son, giving him the okay....cool your jets, bud. I’m the mother, remember? look.

“Is that true, sweetie? Did you have Steve over? You know I don’t mind, but we talked about having boys over when no one’s around.” Joyce reminded in that gentle way of hers.

Jonathan seemed to be rather smug and clearly sided with his mother’s easy scolding - Y/N shot him a glare.

“I mean...we didn’t do anything,” she defended weakly. Joyce bit her cheek, knowing that to sustain proper order in the Byers’ household, she’d have to distribute punishment evenly...

“Well, Y/N/N...you know the rules,” her mother stated shortly, placing a few apples in a large wooden basket, leaving room for oranges, and bananas.

The girl groaned and scratched her head. “I’m serious! All we did was listen to music and dance! I can prove it too - the cassette player’s in my room still, and you can call Steve - not like he’ll lie!” Jonathan pursed his lips at the last bit, ever the protective older brother. His eyebrows then knitted together.

“Cassette player? I thought you kept that in the ca--,” “We used yours because it’s louder than mine.” She quickly resolved.

“Oh - so not only did you break the ‘no boys/girls allowed when home alone�� rule -- but you went through my room as well?” Jonathan snorted.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed at the accusation, she placed down the lettuce that was to be used in tonight’s dinner. “It was sitting on your desk! I wasn’t going through anyone’s room! I figured - since all we did - was listen to music, it’d be okay! I’m sorry, I guess I was wrong!” Their voices were slowly climbing and Joyce had a hand up, silently telling them both to drop it... Neither heeded their mother’s warning though.

“Yeah, you did guess wrong,” Jon growled lowly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry -- cut the crap by the way, I know this isn’t about your cassette player...you’re just sour I had Steve over!” Y/N scoffed.

“So you admit it!” Jonathan stabbed while slapping his hand on the countertop.

“Okay, kids -- kids -- listen to your mother when she talks to you,” Joyce informed sternly, two heads turning in her direction slowly.

“Jonathan, you don’t need to talk to your sister like that,” her eyes dodging to her daughter,” And you -- you know the rules.” Y/N only held back a groan - as the rule implied things that Steve and she hadn’t done... “Okay, I’m sorry...I know it was wrong of me to take things into my own hands - but we seriously didn’t do anything, mom.”

Joyce believed her, she did (in her opinion, after meeting Steve; he was a charming young man with a good head on his shoulders...good head of hair, too) - but as a mother, she had to keep both children happy.

“I accept your apology.” Y/N relaxed at that. “But you broke the rules, sweetie...meaning--,” “I’m grounded, I know.” With that, she shot a glare to Jonathan and stormed off.

There had been plenty of times she could’ve snitched on him (she wasn’t an idiot when Jon said they needed him late after work...bullshit - Nancy needed him late after work). Y/N couldn’t believe Jonathan would throw her under the bus like that. Yet, that wasn’t even the half of it...it hurt to think Jon didn’t trust her.

They’d been through so much together, and he’d always had her back. The best big brother any girl could ask for... But...the second, she and Steve got together - it was like she was twelve-years-old again. Y/N felt like Jonathan was her father and not her eighteen-year-old brother...mind him, she was seventeen and completely capable of taking care of herself.

Hadn’t she proved that while fighting off demodogs in some far off junkyard? Or when she helped set up a trap for the Demogorgon? Or what about the time she punched Billy Hargrove in the face for cat-calling her and getting in her personal space? Jonathan treated her like...a kid.

It felt like Jon forgot all the things Steve had done for her, too... He saved her life when she’d been jumped by a stray demodog - if Harrington hadn’t been there, she’d have died. Y/N was sure he’d saved her life more than just that single point in time (Y/N only remembered it so prominently because it had been then, that she realized she loved him)... Or, all the times Steve offered to drive her home so she didn’t have to walk. Even when he put a drunk in his place after trying to drag Y/N off at a party (which Nancy had invited both Byers to...if anything, that one was Jon’s fault).

Steve had proved himself to be a good person with good intentions and a kind heart - and yet Jonathan was the most overprotective person she’d ever met. It was frustrating...she didn’t question Jon when he “snuck out”, or when he left randomly to go aid Nancy or attend to whatever was on his mind... Ugh.

She’d fallen asleep while flipping through the loose photos, planning to hang them up sometime tomorrow. Praying that things would get better by morning - though she knew that Jonathan would always be a bit...tentative after their fights. Along with the remainder of her childish lockdown, she wasn’t very pleased as she slipped into darkness.

“Y/N? Can you take me to the mall?” Lifting her head, the said girl looked away from the tape and pile of Polaroids scattered on her bed. “Where’s Jonathan?” She asked while turning back to find free space on her walls for the pictures.

“He already went to work,” Will replied while standing in her doorway watching as she (quite aggressively) tore a piece of tape from its roll.

“Mom?” “She left like...four hours ago,” Will answered, crossing his arms as he waited for her to agree.

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair, which was a bit greasy - as she had gone to bed upset and hadn’t taken the time to shower, nor even wash her face (Steve would always tell her the secret to great hair, was shelf-life...he’d go three or so days without washing it...it seemed to work for him...not so much for her).

“I would, but I’m grounded, right now, Will,” she explained with a bitter tone.

“Just tell mom you’re taking me to the mall,” he said while shrugging.

Y/N snorted. “She won’t let me leave the house - thanks to Jonathan.”

“What did he do?” Will asked while moving to hand her another piece of tape as she struggled to reach for it while keeping the photo in place.

“He’s being a hypocritical ass, that’s what he’s doing,” she seethed. “He...he caught Steve leaving yesterday and instead of just trusting me and letting it go - he told mom and then argued with me about it...”

“Well...I need to go to the mall - everyone’s waiting for me...you’re the only one who can drive...and technically, I can’t be alone... and you are the only available driver - who else better to watch me than my sister?” Will raised an eyebrow, Y/N narrowing her eyes at him - a small smile playing on her lips.

“I mean...being forced to the mall when you’re trying to be grounded like the good daughter you are - is a pretty harsh sentence. You’ll just have to watch six kids which is probably worse than sitting here - abusing tape.”

“Will The Wise...you never seem to fail me,” she smirked. The younger boy only laughed and shook his head, smiling as Y/N grabbed her keys, tossing them into the air to catch; ushering him out the door.

“Ahoy, stranger! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain...I’m Steve Harrington.” Of course, he had to greet his girlfriend like so...it was employee policy after all.

“Hey, Steve,” she offered while plopping herself at the nearest table, not even having to tell him that she wanted to try the newest ice cream, or that she was in a bad mood. He just knew.

“Here,” he said after a few seconds of getting her a small cone of rocky road and caramel dream - his brown eyes fixing on her irked state. “On the house, cutie,” he added while pulling the chair out across from Y/N. Steve flipped it to be backward (an unpleasant squeak to follow), and tugged off his dumb hat, straightening its edges in his hands as he leaned forward. His chestnut hair was falling into his view and his slight frown only had him look like an adorable chocolate lab.

“Thanks,” she mumbled while taking the cone, their fingers brushing (Steve used to flush like a manic back before they’d gotten together - he occasionally still did, and it only had her love him more).

He rested one arm around the rim of his chair holding his hat, the other having his elbow rested on the table, his palm cradling his chin as he looked at her in question.

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong?” He tested while cocking a brow, only having an intimation of the truth.

Y/N admired the marbled coloring of the custard before answering him. “Jonathan’s just being a jerk.” She expressed while sighing, taking a mouthful of ice cream as an attempt to cool her temper.

Steve’s eyes widened - realizing what she must be talking about. He rubbed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as everything washed back from yesterday... He had been turning the corner of the house - having waited a few minutes for Joyce to be out of sight - when Byers pulled up in his own car. They’d locked eyes and Steve had stammered an excuse. Oh, hey - I was uh..I-I um, your sister...I was just...with her...keeping her company -- I mean, we didn’t do anything, or like...yeah. Just came over...c-cause she was bored...wait...I mean-- The brother hadn’t said anything, only crossed his arms and waited for Harrington to leave. Once Steve did - he could only pray that he didn’t make himself to be a bigger fool than he already was...he was certain that his grand speech was useless.

“Shit -- this is my fault, isn’t it? -- I’m sorry, babes -- I didn’t even hear him pull up. If you want I can talk to hi--,” She cut him off, taking his hand in hers. Giving a small smile. This was why she loved this dorky man so much...he tried his best even when the odds were stacked against him (heavily...as Jonathan didn’t quite like the idea of his little sister with an ex-heartbreaker).

“It’s okay. He’ll get over it, I need to apologize anyway...I know he’s just trying to protect me...but...it’s just a little irritating,” she said.

“Besides - I came here to keep an eye on the kids, I’m supposed to be grounded, you know,” she giggled,” I think sitting in an ice cream parlor with Captain Steve Harrington and his sailor outfit, is a fine enough suffering.”

Steve was glad she’d lightened up - while he nodded, he did make a mental note to grab Jonathan on his own... The brunette then smirked, of course - watching the kids was a pretty terrible punishment, indeed.

He clicked his tongue with a scoff,” Hey -- at least you’re not wearing it.” Steve pulled at the red tie around his neck and ran a hand through his hair, standing up as a customer walked in. He placed his hat back on and made a face.

“All hands on deck, Cap’in,” Y/N snickered, Steve only saluting her and rolling his eyes. It amazed her every time - how simply his presence and hearing his voice made everything one-hundred times better...

Throughout Steve’s shift, he tried to keep Y/N happy, smiling, and entertained. When he couldn’t - Robin was his stand-in. Both good friends as it was, so it wasn’t hard to do so. The kids even came in after some time of wandering around; ending with all nine of them surrounding the cash register and taste-testing the flavors with their eyes closed.

“Um, that weird cherry one?” Lucas hesitated while licking his lips, eyes squeezed tightly.

“I need a name, dingus,” Robin told while tapping her dry erase marker on her whiteboard (which had previously been used to mark Steve’s losing streak).

Max had her fingers crossed and was snickering with El - hoping that her boyfriend wouldn’t be able to produce a proper name. They’d split into teams; Lucas, Dustin, Mike, and Will...versus Steve, Y/N, Max, and El (Robin being their “host” choosing flavors and keeping score; along with making the difficult decisions of...if the answer was close enough or not).

“Dude -- how do you not remember this?” Dustin hissed while rubbing his face.

Mike only nodded vigorously, sighing loudly,” You tried this two days ago! You literally had to say the name to order it!”

“Just think about it, Lucas,” Will encouraged while Robin tapped her invisible watch - telling the three boys that if Sinclair wasn’t quick - they’d lose the point.

“Uh--,” “You have five seconds, kid.” “Uh-- Cherry...um” “Three” “Chocolate cherry? -- No wait, vanill--,” “TIMES UP!” Robin laughed while half the small crowd groaned, smacking Lucas on the head or expressing their disappointment verbally.

“What was it?” He asked while walking to the glass showcase.

El and Max were gloating, taunting the other team - to which Dustin claimed they were cheating; Steve works here! He probably eats this shit every day! To which Harrington denies, flicking Henderson’s face.

Actually, dipshit -- I have to, y’know, keep in shape... The curly-haired boy only gave a fake laugh and a glare. For who? Hargrove? Y/N? Bullshit!

The kids started bickering amongst themselves, and Robin clapped her hands to get their attention (everyone but herself and Y/N had been accusing one another... and sadly, Steve’s child-like mentality fell into that category of bickering children).

“Hey! Dinguses! You’re tied - it’s time for the final round, so shut up.” She rolled her eyes,” Steve may work here, but he’s a probably a handicap if anything - he doesn’t even know all the flavors we serve.”

Y/N snorted at that, fist-bumping her friend while her boyfriend floundered to defend himself. “What? I know the menu, thank you, Robin - we have chocolate, vanilla, uh, strawberry...that thing that Lucas just ate - oh, rocky road and caramel dream! I know that ‘cause it’s the special today--,” his girlfriend cut him off by scooting him out of the way. “Alright hotshot, take a seat to cool off. I’m about to win this for us.”

Steve only chuckled, rubbing his neck as his blush ran down his face; ears tinted a shade darker. Mike was whispering to the boys about how whipped Harrington was -- and the older boy had overheard, flipping them off when Y/N turned her back to them.

“Oh, we’re so gonna win! Guess we’ll be watching Sixteen Candles, losers!” Max quipped - high-fiving El. The boys all collectively moaned (all except for Steve who actually kinda liked Sixteen Candles...another reason they all made fun of him). The teams had been split purposefully - as movie nights were Fridays - and if Y/N wasn’t grounded, they were all planning on going to Harrington’s house (as per usual) to watch something together. Of course, they could never agree...always split one way, two ways, or three...heck - once there were five different ideas thrown out, and no one wanted to compromise...(Steve being the loving mother he was...gave in and everyone ended up sleeping over as had to go through five different movies...).

This week’s split was between Sixteen Candles and Return of the Jedi (even though everyone had seen the Return of the Jedi on multiple occasions. The boys just didn’t want to watch such a ‘girly movie’ which Steve defended in being pretty good). Last week they’d watched The Neverending Story, and since then, the boys wanted to watch one of their favorite movies for the nth time... But Harrington was bored of those teddy-bear things, El didn’t quite understand the whole Star Wars universe, Max wasn’t interested in it, and Y/N was tired of listening to Will gush about it at home... That, sealing their conflicting sides.

“Robin choose a hard one!” Lucas requested while glaring at his girlfriend.

“Oh, do -- this one,” Dustin whispered.

“No that’s too easy - Y/N’s tried like...all of them,” Mike cut in while scanning the flavors for himself.

“I mean...Sixteen Candles isn’t that bad,” Will mumbled - only getting glared at by his friends (if he sided now, then they’d be forced to watch the said movie without a fighting chance as that was the rule...with these stupid challenges if someone ended giving in - the other team automatically won...).

Y/N rolled her eyes before placing her hands over them and silently going over the list of ice creams she scanned almost every day (the menus suddenly spotting in and out, the list a bit foggy as she tried harder to remember them all).

The air was tense and everyone was on edge (luckily, the mall was closing soon so not much foot traffic was provided to interrupt this distinctive moment in Movie Night Fridays). Max and El were biting their lips, mumbling c’mon, c’mon - while the boys were all pointing in silent rage to the ice cream they thought Robin should choose.

There was a soft wave of whispers. A few outbursts - then silence like someone had calmed the storm...she wondered what was going on, questioning if she was going to be handed the small spoon or not...

“Guys? Robin? Y--,” the touch of soft, warm lips froze her words in her throat. Y/N immediately felt her cheeks flame. Her hands slipped away from her still closed eyes, and she wrapped her arms around a familiar figure.

Ews could be heard, along with a shut up, it’s cute. Steve cupped her cheek, keeping her face close while she played with the nape of his neck. Y/N could only focus on how he was smirking into the liplock like the little dork he was...

“Okay, that’s enough now,” Robin teased while capping her marker.

Steve pulled away, nevertheless holding Y/N’s body close to his own. He swept his thumb across her pink cheekbones and smiled with a toothy grin.

“I won’t be able to burn that from my mind,” Lucas gagged - earning a smack from Max.

“I’ll say... --that’s my sister,” Will grimaced. Mike only nodded in agreement, yet with El’s arms hugging him, he wasn’t quick to criticize.

“That’s my idol,” Dustin mumbled while scrunching his nose up.

Y/N stuck her tongue out at the children - and giggled when Steve rolled his eyes at them - waving them off. “Oh, please. I just schooled you all in how to treat your girlfriend.” His arms tightly wound around her waist.

The deal he’d made with them was you can all stay over at my house and watch all the movies you want - I’ll even by you whatever snacks you want - if you let me do this. They agreed, in the name of Harrington being a push-over and for all good junk food he’d blow his money on.

Robin left a shortly after (a plan to hang out with Y/N sometime next week) - leaving Steve to lock up and it left the eight of them to exit the mall together. Hand in hand with Steve, Y/N sighed in content. Sure...her mom would probably have something to say when she got home so late (though reassured by Will’s promise to stand up for her - taking her side), but it was impossible for her to feel anything negative while listening to Steve’s breathy, lasting laugh.

“Thanks, Steves,” she mumbled, using the simple nickname affectionately.

He smiled down at her, letting her hand go to wrap his arm around her, then reaching to place his hat on her own head (rewarded with a giggle).

“Oh? How come?” He asked while swinging his car keys on his index.

Y/N leaned into him, watching the kids walking ahead of them talk amongst themselves, in their loud, troublesome manner. “You made me feel better,” she clarified,” You always do.”

Steve wore a proud look - his (slightly flattened) hair still looking as perfect as ever. “Aw shucks, that’s real sweet of you, babes.” He pressed a kiss to her temple and then watched her for a second longer.

“I’ll talk to Jonathan -,” continuing even with Y/n’s eyes flashing protest,”- Maybe we’ll grab a coffee or something, and I’ll talk to him like an adult. Because I know I don’t deserve you, but I’ll love you anyway - and if it takes me manning up and downright asking for your brother’s approval...I’ll beg until I get it because I can’t live without you, Y/N,” he admitted sweetly.

El had overheard and awed, resulting in a blushing Harrington (he hadn’t thought he was that loud). Mike, Lucas, and Dustin were mocking him, professing their love to one another (eventually stopping because Max’s glares were not that welcoming).

“Don’t worry, Steve. You already have my blessing! So...that’s one brother down!” Will said while walking backward to talk. “My mom likes you - and she doesn’t really care as long as Y/N/N’s happy. And Jonathan just needs to realize you’re serious about her -- then you’re golden!” The kid’s words reassured his raging nerves (even with his cool facade, he had been fretting that because of the rift between himself and the eldest Byers...Steve wouldn’t be able to hold Y/N in his arms any longer...).

“Will The Wise...you’ve done it again,” Y/N smiled, laughing lightly at her brother’s kind support. Steve only tightened his grip on Y/N, confidence finding him as they stepped into the cool night. He understood why Jonathan was so worried...Steve may not be her brother - but he was her boyfriend, and would be just as worried if someone posed as a danger to his beloved.

“Alright, dickheads - who am I driving home?” He asked, clearing his throat.

When all the boys (minus Will) raised their hands - Harrington groaned. Pleading to trade for El and Max... while Y/N shook her head, claiming he shouldn’t have offered himself up like that.

“Stop by tomorrow, sailor,” Y/N told while pressing a goodbye kiss to his lips. “Jonathan gets home early on Wednesdays. You can talk to him then til your heart’s content.”

He smiled, pulling her into a crushing embrace. “Sounds good to me, babes...you think he’d want to join our dance parties? Or...no?”

----

a/n footer: gahh! That was pretty cute to write! I hope it’s okay! <3

Part 2 of Sunsets Back Home should be out soon! (hopefully, tonight/tomorrow morning because I stay up late writing...whoops)

Side Note: @novaddictx I’m sorry Tumblr is being mean to you XD I hope you get this tag...bahaha, give ‘em a piece of your mind XD <3 I’m glad you’re enjoying my writing as much as I enjoy well..writing it for you all!

Tagged List: @billyhargrovescigarette@novaddictx @mairalynn416 @krystalane@wefracturedmotivation@truthdaze @xxcxrolinexx @savingprivatecass @emmalbg @timeladygallifrey@the-first-breath-of-autumn-air

Feel free to message me or comment if I forgot to tag you or you’d like to be tagged in future posts! :)

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x byers reader #jonathan byers x sibling reader #will byers x sibling reader #joyce byers x daughter reader #jonathan byers #will byers #joyce byers #stranger things #stranger things imagine

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seokjxnnie · 5 years

Text

celestial (pt. 3) | kth (m)

↠ genre: smut, angst, demon au, incubus!taehyung x f reader ↠ warnings: blood and violence, facesitting (oral, f receiving), me not knowing how to write fight scenes lmao ↠ length: 7k

↳ her flesh and blood imparts immortality to any demon, but the incubus protecting her from the hunt requires something else of her body.

↞ part 2 | masterlist | part 4 ↠

a/n: THIS IS SO LATE I’M SO SORRY i’ve been in such a writing rut and this ended up being way longer than i thought too but i promise not to tease if i can’t deliver no more pls forgive me 😖

Taehyung set her down on the floor of the bathtub and she shivered against the cold acrylic.

In the lifetime of a single breath, he had carried her back to the washroom of her dorm. Students and staff had retired to their homes along with the setting auburn sun, leaving his unhuman agility without an audience.

Exhausted from having endured a pain that was meticulous in reach and degree, she didn’t have the recognition to question when he swiveled the faucet handles to run a stream of a consoling warmth. Finding herself without the resources to retort, she submitted as he peeled the shirt off her shoulders and discarded it to the side. Disliking the unsatisfying feeling of her shorts drenching in the gaining currents of water, she attempted to wiggle out of them, accomplishing only a couple of inches before her familiar helped with the remaining distance in the glide off her legs. She sat near naked in her underwear; it’s not like there was anything he hadn’t seen already.

He lowered himself down on the tub’s edge, one foot inside next to her and the other out on the tiles. Rolling up his sleeves and dipping at the waist, his hand cupped under the flow of water to bring a gentle splash to her collar bones that were lightly streaked by dried blood.

“I—I can bathe myself.” Her quiet, unconvincing mumbles must’ve been easy to dismiss because his lips remained unmoving and he continued gently massaging away the stains on her skin. With his touch soft and warm, it declined her deeper into a tranquil haze where she was unable to adopt any form of rejection. Instead, she sighed, soothed, finding herself leaning into his pleasing caresses.

Her gaze played a slow climb up his body, from his arms that worked a calm lather, to his arched shoulders where muscles tensed and eased to the rhythm of his movements. In her ascent, she registered the claw marks at his arm that slashed his shirt and raked his skin, speckling the frayed seams a quality of mahogany. Finally arriving at his eyes unfailingly pinched her breath. A band of blood outlined his cheekbone as well. To pair was a slight paler hue to his skin – he had been expending energy that wasn’t being topped up, she concluded to herself.

“You’re hurt,” she addressed, scarcely above a whisper. Swallowing, her digits faintly browsed over the loose threads.

His face tensed in view of the guilt that weighed down hers – she was blaming herself for what had been inflicted on him. “I’ll live,” his wet palm overlapped hers extended out to him to move it back down to her side. “We recover faster than humans. It’ll be gone in a few days,” Taehyung muttered with a dim volume.

His hand retreated only for her to reach back out and capture his fingers again. Peering up, he found her bottom lip tucked, nibbled on apprehensively. “Just,” she gulped air and stifled fidgets under his unwavering look. She had to tear away from his stare to just think of how to even fill in the blanks. “… Just a kiss will do, right?” her words, hardly audible even to the wind, quivered like her fingers on top of his.

The incubus studied her face for the fine print between her unanticipated offer amidst the storm of rejection she had instigated for the past few days. Instead, he discovered a timid spark in her irises. His jaw tautened as he was his digits were inspired to tighten around her palm and jerk her forward.

The brief disorientation drew a gasp from her before found herself between his knees, closer, with her hands splayed across his lap in balance. He remained still for a second, angling the watch of his eyes down at her. Then, he gathered the side of her face into the flat of his hand, asserting that her own orbs couldn’t escape. He faintly tugged, drawing her to follow his pull as she slowly lifted and shifted onto her shins to further cancel the distance between their noses. It robbed her breath and crippled her limbs with a tension to experience a vulnerability, a surrender under his tireless stare. Her heart hammered in its cavity and a riveting concoction of desire and helplessness seethed into her veins.

The two sat motionless and soundless. Silence has never scorched so loud. She was forced to drown in it, forced in a smother employed by his decisive yet inviting look. A weakness gained on her more and more as she interpreted it as a demand for her initiation. In any other situation, she would’ve shoved his face away and spat out words of disbelief and malice. But in this moment, there was an electricity that exactingly coursed through her, sweltering a sudden craving for him. Again, her thighs squeezed together. With his dominating presence looming over her, awaiting her move while she knelt powerless at his feet, the longing was charged. And, falling victim to exactly what he enticed, she reached up and caught his lips in hers.

Only a light sweep of a contact, yet delectable in foreign measure. Still laden with reluctance and timidity, her fingers of one hand daintily danced along his jaw before she ever so slightly drew back. In the nearly fictional inch between their lips, she released the quietest of sighs that grazed him, which to him was palpable to an extraneous degree. It stirred the greediest of arousal within him. Finally having proven her yearning, Taehyung allowed her his reciprocation.

He found her lips again, with fervour this time. His movements were relentless, starved. She couldn’t resist either, eagerly sinking into the pillows of his lips with her own impatient caresses. Her hand balled into fists on his knee, another creasing the fabric at his neckline, feeling as if she could wholly melt into his heated kisses if she didn’t keep a grasp. A throb rushed to her head, a mirrored pattern engulfing her core, and it blurred the perimeter of discrimination between dream and reality.

A ravenous, gruff tone rendered the familiar’s words unrecognizable when he growled, “Not enough.”

And then he impatiently reeled her closer, his other hand fastening on the small of her back to lift and straighten her up on her knees. Their chests crashed together before falling into an inevitable and unyielding mold. It elicited a breathless mewl from her, and the fleeting partition of her lips invited his tongue into her mouth. Insatiably, he took in her taste by tantalizingly quick strokes. The girl shivered under his bind.

Weaving between a gluttonous exchange of hefty breaths were the swift rakes of his teeth that teased the plump of her bottom lip, tugging to lightly swell before soothing over with the lush sweep of his tongue. Her palms extended out but rather than pushing him away, they splayed across his collar bones and snaked up to embrace the nook of his shoulders, completely surrendering to his dominance. His hands scaled her damp body with hungry caresses, and a low rumble from the pit of his throat delivered vibrations across her tongue to voice his satisfaction.

Seeing that she lacked objection, Taehyung’s brushes wandered. He massaged the wet, velvety skin at her waist before his touches glided over the clasps of her bra. He moved so naturally that it was almost neglected by her hazy register. However, moment the unanticipated feeling of the fabric loosening from their hold on her chest crept into perception, she was abruptly pulled from her blissful trance.

The girl broke away from his lips with a gasp. The hands that had just hugged him were now the same ones to thrust him away. Hastily, she gathered her arms into a fold across her chest, catching the article before it drifted from her figure. “I can bathe myself,” she repeated – blurted – almost without the sufficient breath, but with a swinging volume to reflect the fluster that suddenly rattled her.

She gulped, stare inflexibly sloping down at her lap as she decided she was too embarrassed to meet any of the possible antagonism residing in his eyes. She braced for scoffs of frustration, discords of bafflement, sneers of insult, but her defences abruptly fell when his warmth departed and she heard the door creaking open without another word. She didn’t even catch what emotion he wore, only transiently finding a quick glimpse at the closed scars that replaced his previous lashes, peeking out beneath his sleeve that had partially unrolled in the passion of the moment.

The door squeezed shut behind his leave and the exhale that had been smothered at the cap of her throat finally escaped her liberally. Her heart accelerated so amply, she could hear the floods in the relentless drumming of her pulse. Why she stopped him, she couldn’t confidently put a finger on, because with her face flushed with a humiliating cherry like it was, she was fully aware of how far she allowed it to go, how much she enjoyed it. Even solely in her own company, the bewildering embarrassment plunged her face into the burrow of her palms. She quietly groaned, still sullied by the thrilling tickles that overstayed on her skin, all the while desperately driving out the question of finding pleasure in submissively kneeling at his feet.

Her fingers grazed her shoulder where the nicks were, finding unblemished skin that smoothed under the glide of her pads. She couldn’t do the same for him, since their quick moment of intimacy might’ve sutured his wounds, but it certainly did not dispel them. He wasn’t going to last forever without his fill. But then all over again, she winced and suffocated the thoughts of future advancements.

“Anterograde transport from the golgi complex?”

Jimin’s head slung off the edge of the couch cushion, sitting upside down so that his legs dangled off the backing. He read from the cue card hovering over his face.

Sitting on the floor by the coffee table scattered with her closed notebooks, she drummed the eraser end of a pencil on her chin. Her eyes seamed shut and her brows knitted in focus of materializing in her mind the memory of the words she had written down. “Secretory vesicles that bud off are directed towards and fuse with the plasma membrane to discharge its contents via exocytosis.”

Jungkook sat next to Jimin on the sofa, upright, grimacing and batting away at the toes that Jimin playfully waggled by his face. He held the next card from the tall deck. “Retrograde transport from the golgi complex?”

The picturing of her handwriting began to dull from her recollection. “The flow of vesicles from golgi cisternae back to… shit, uh…”

Jungkook loaned her a few seconds to arrive at her answer as he squinted at the scribble. “Endo-plastic rectum,” he finally read as uncertainty cocked his head.

“For fuck’s sake, endoplasmic reticulum.” Jimin’s right foot found the back of the other’s head with a less than forgiving knock this time.

Hoseok from the other room entered with the lean of his shoulders past the doorway into the living room where they sat. “Don’t forget it’s garbage day tomorrow,” he announced as a reminder for the guys to empty their trash tonight.

“I know, don’t worry, I’m going to leave myself on the curb in a bit.” She slumped forward onto the table, defeated by the accumulating examples of her incompetence. The diminishing amount of time she had left before the arrival of finals season was unhelpful as well.

His lips puckered with sympathy. “You having a tough time studying?”

“Actually, I walked into this stressed and miserable, but I think I’ve really turned things around.” Straightening up, she allowed a sliver of optimism to lift her expressions. “Now I’m miserable and stressed.” A sarcastic smile strained her face.

“It's okay, grades don’t matter,” he sighed a tone of compassion before he joined the youngest members on the sofa.

“Nothing you do matters.” Yoongi, on the opposite couch, apparently wasn’t napping like his lethargic bodily state had led on. He clarified before he gathered another collection of disapproving looks, “I mean, life is short, especially for humans, so why stress so much over little things in the brief span of your life.”

A huff of an amused chuckle casted from her breath. “Thanks, Yoongi.” She paused on his perception of an average lifespan of 80 years being short. “How long do demons live then?”

“Long. Too fucking long if you ask me.” Seokjin doesn’t miss a beat when he returned from taking his trash to the bin outside. His head swayed side to side, as if burdened by his seasoned time alive. He dropped down next to her on the floor, leaning back on his palms.

She paused again on what his perception of a long lifespan could possibly be. “How old are you guys then?”

“How old do you think we are?” he challenged with the interested lift of his brow.

And then she’s overtaken by a flashback to when she was nine years old in a dusty theater and Edward Cullen had just confessed to Bella Swan that he was 108 years old.

“Please tell me no one here is a century old.”

“A century? Jesus Christ, I’m 27,” Seokjin scoffed, and she would’ve winced if she wasn’t instead entirely entertained by his animated exasperation.

Namjoon laughed as he had entered the room in time to catch the amusing context of the room’s conversation. Yoongi raised his legs to free up a cushion for the leader to take a seat upon, only for him to lay them back down over his lap after he settled. “Don’t worry, Princess. We can live to be old, but all of us are in our 20’s,” Namjoon assured.

It was a couple of weeks ago when she had finally given up on deterring them from that nickname. She could only warn them so many times before the act of averting them became more annoying that the actual nickname itself.

Taehyung was balanced on the sill of the open window on the room’s margins, close enough to hear them yet distant enough to not be blamed for his lack of participation. She had temporarily met his glance before immediately submitting to the reluctance and retreating back to the safe faces of Jimin and Jungkook instead, thanking them for helping her study. Luckily, in the last couple weeks she wasn’t subject to an array of opportunities of being in the vicinity of her familiar. He had been staying close, often lounging in a nearby tree outside her classes, but mercifully never near enough to unnerve her with his indisputable presence. Nonetheless, he hasn’t been any more than a swift stride of a distance away, ensuring that no other demon would get their hands on her again after his last two faults. The scars that had branded his arm expired and left behind smooth skin within a few days after too.

The incubus slumped back into the wooden frame, turning towards the vast outside of crisp night air to steal a refreshing breath. His eyes searched the perpetual void of darkness and tranquility as if it could provide answers to his uncertainty – why he’s been holding back, keeping his distance. With a little more persistence, he knew she could cave, having burned into the back of his mind the belonging and craving that had glazed her eyes when she was vulnerable at his feet with his command casting over her. And yet here he was, refraining.

He hadn’t found the solution to this enmeshment of an uninterrupted indecision just yet. Instead, he was far more occupied by the pale hue that had gradually colonized her skin, and the dimness that rimmed the underside of her eyes. She hadn’t been sleeping at night.

She had been spending a lot of time at the shrine too, and her leave at the end of the day always lagged with hesitance. She was certainly becoming close friends with everyone, but the lace of resistance he figured was attributed to the comfort of company. She didn’t like being alone at night.

And he was right.

When broad daylight bathed her surroundings and she was in the presence of friends, it was easy to say the impressions of her past couple chilling confrontations had already evaporated. But when the darkness of the night produced a perfectly still, silent, and lonely media for the grisly images of her memories to slither in, it robbed her of a peaceful mind. It seemed that every time she closed her eyes, she saw those uncanny yellow eyes that kept her in the farthest extremities away from sleep.

Tonight was no exception.

In bed, the fatigue was so insufferable and the longing for even a wink of revitalizing rest was so suffocating that when she did find a transient break of a serene hush amidst the unyielding reminders of gore, it was an eager plunge into slumber.

And then the dreams would happen.

Coarse scales prodded and poked the sensitive of her skin as the hand locked around her jaw. The hum in the breaths that closed in by her ear was drenched in a quality of absolute feral hunger. The sharp of a fang only superficially pricked the surface, and somehow it was potent enough to deliver the heftiest of pains ever known to man, seemingly reaching margins immeasurable even by science.

The intolerable fear forced herself to wake up with a start, only to find a dim silhouette looming over her.

A paralyzing tautness swallowed her whole as a blaring shriek of terror started her chest and began to open up her throat. Then, the shadow clamped a palm over her mouth before it burst from its seams. Coordinated with the violent thundering of her heart, she rapidly blinked away the haze that blurred her vision and had kept her from putting a face to the figure.

Taehyung stood over her with wide eyes, just as startled that she had woken up so suddenly and with such a fluster. The dread in her eyes converted to fury as she found the mobility to extend a harsh fist and thrust it against his shoulder. He didn’t even recoil in the apparently trivial impact.

“Sorry, sorry, I just didn’t want you to scream and wake anyone.” A low, regretful mutter was all he could assemble as his hand withdrew from her mouth.

She sat up, hasty with exasperation, and fingers still unsteady from the overstaying anxiety swept away the matted hair from her face. “Then what the fuck are you doing here?” she wispily shouted, careful not to surpass the threshold of volume that would alarm her neighbours.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” his words sliced the air.

Her bottom lip stuttered in trying to gather a response as her eyes tapered away from him. “What does that have to do with you?” Hostility claimed her sunken tone, yet shame undermined its blow.

A brief silence settled upon the room, only amplifying her tension. She nearly flinched when he approached her bed. “Move over,” he batted at her feet at the corner of her small mattress.

“What?” she sputtered.

“Calm down,” he parked on the edge and folded his legs. “You can sleep now, nothing’s going to happen if I’m here.” He slouched, chin lodged in his propped up palm.

She gawked at how nonchalant he was, as if he genuinely thought this was acceptable after what had happened the last time they were alone in a room together. The girl prayed there wasn’t colour in her face to illustrate her fluster. “Sleep? With you watching me?”

Taehyung exhaled a sound similar to that of a groan while his eyes rolled. He spun in his seat until he had her back to her and then sat still, creating a break of soundlessness. Greater than her disbelief of him thinking this was at all a better situation was her admission, while unwilling, that the uneasiness of her dark and lonely room had been exchanged for a sense of security instead.

“You’re just gonna sit there all night?” she hated that she was even considering it.

“I can sleep like this.”

Mind fogged by an exhaustion, forming a coherent retort was an impossible reach. She broke her look away from him, concerned that he could sense her stare burning into his back. Sinking back into the chilled welcome of her pillow, a warmth was already beginning to slacken her tension. A vignette of calm and quiet bordered her with a growing darkness

“This is how things are now, huh? I’ll never know what a normal life is.” A whisper nearly muted by the weariness pressing on her voice fell from her lips. It was a ghost of a thought, hardly cognisant, as she leaned into the drowsiness that deterred any sort of screen.

The familiar gritted his jaw. It was heavy on his chest for her to recognize her inescapable reality, that for the rest of her life, she’ll be a meal sought out by his kind. He couldn’t bring himself to just blatantly reinforce her ordeal with his words, so instead he asserted, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Uncaught, as she had succumbed to the complete dusk of a slumber.

Taehyung sat with her straddling his loosely clothed hips. He dragged down her bra to expand teasing bites and the run of his lips over her soft mounds. With her pebbling nipple between his teeth, he smirked while feeling her tremble against his mouth, paralleling her shuddering exhales of ecstasy that slackened her jaw.

His fingers curled over the strings of her panties to reel them downwards, and she moved her leg so he could push it the rest of the way to her ankle. Then all too quick, he shifted, and she immediately clutched onto the headboard in front of her to regain her faltered balance. His electrifying gaze was now situated between her thighs as she knelt over his face. Before she could even accustom herself to the sudden and complete exposure, his hands clasped onto her hips and lowered her drenched sex onto his lips. A diverting current ripped through her as he lapped.

“Fuck, Tae—w-wait…” She was at a lost, breath stolen by the shapes his tongue traced against her pulsing clit. The more she hesitated in riding his face, the tauter his grip, the more untiringly his mouth worked. Eventually, her reluctance was completely eroded by pleasure and she succumbed to its inclinations.

Her back arched, her hips snapped against his chin, her hands mercilessly tugged on the bedsheets, her throat whined his name as if it were innate.

His fingers travelled to stroke her folds as he sucked on her throbbing bean. “Look how fucking good you taste,” the incubus harshly rumbled as the sopping digits reached up to push past her lips.

Her indulgence sweltered, and she compliantly ran the length of his two fingers with her tongue, sucking as if they had always belonged in her mouth. The vibrations of her moans cascaded down his skin while she continued to roll her core against his lips, all to completely illustrate how much of a pleasured mess he was unraveling her to. The bundle of inflamed sparks collected in the pit of her stomach, and she mewled with her hands catching the locks of his hair as it started to unfold between her thighs in a blinding hot scale to the rest of her body.

The searing arousal elicited a sharp inhale from her chest that lurched her awake.

She blinked as the ceiling of her dorm room was the only thing that stared back above her, and the only thing under her was a sheet of a smothering heat that greased her from head to toe with a film of perspiration.

“Another nightmare?” Taehyung’s abrupt voice interrupting the stuffy, still air sits her up in bed. He was on the floor, leaned against the wall opposite to her, wearing a frown on his lips.

For once, she wished it was a bad dream, one that didn’t leave her with a pool of desire. She would’ve much rather woken up sweating in fear than in arousal with him just a few meters away from her. How her mind even conjured such immodest visuals with shameless vibrancy is beyond her. She could still feel the residual sensations of his cheekbones grazing the inners of her thighs and the damp, thick of his tongue flattening against her still throbbing clit. God, she hoped he couldn’t smell the slick exhilaration between her legs, because it was definitely generous enough for her it to feel it seep through the fabric of her panties. Even in the unconscious, his senses were so keen, since even the distant pounding of her heart roused him awake.

In the past couple of nights, she’s tasted a sleep so satisfying after a restless bout, so undisturbed under the security of her familiar. He really could sleep anywhere, she learned, as he made the hardwood floor look so comfortable by the way he snoozed so easily while slumped in a corner. But in this moment, his company – unbeknownst to him – assaulted her with a debilitating humiliation. His ignorant glance adorned with a quality of concern only further nailed her flustered shame into the depths of her gut, and it was stifling.

The girl threw off the blanket and leapt out of bed. “I’m just hot. I’m gonna go for a swim.”

Puzzlement drew his brows together. “Now? It’s nearly 3am.”

“Exactly. I’ll have pool all to myself. I just need a quick dip to cool off.” Her hasty steps lagged just before the exit of her dorm. Her head swiveled towards him, yet her stare stayed fix to the floorboards. “Please don’t follow me, I just wanna be alone. I won’t be far and I won’t take long.”

His lips slightly parted in loading a question, but ultimately, he sat back without a noise as she closed the door behind her.

The campus’s aquatic centre doesn’t regularly change the access code on their electronic door locks, she learned, since punching in the same code she was given when she worked reception here during freshman year gained her a noiseless entry to the pool.

An eager dive in and the cool waters flush against her warm and blushing skin, so refreshing that she could feel it seeping into the relaxing of her bones. The soundlessness, the stillness of the cavity’s depths gave her a taste of tranquillity amidst the barrage of the supernatural, the lustful – whatever has been her life for the past few weeks.

And not much longer after, it was an eager leap into the warm stream of shower in the locker room that eased the minute tension in her muscles from the quick laps she did. While content respires puff from her throat, her hands scrubbed away the chlorine that dyed her skin.

She cuts the water, thankful that the quick swim was able to evaporate most of the plaguing embarrassment and lingering arousal. Plucking the towel off the hook outside her stall, she patted dry and kneaded the dews off her hair when the squeak of an opening door jolted her with a startle.

Someone else had walked into the otherwise deserted locker room. Who, she couldn’t see, since between her and the entrance were rows of lockers. But who else could it be at this time of night, coincidentally crossing paths with her, other than her familiar?

“Taehyung?” she called out, swaddling herself in the towel. “I told you not to come. I’m done anyway.”

The reply was wordless, and responding instead was the sound of wet footsteps hitting the slick tiles as they approached her. And suddenly, her senses were swamped by the roaring volume of her thrashing heart, knowing that the eerie, discomforting silence wasn’t characteristic of Taehyung. It wasn’t him on the other side of the dividers, advancing towards her.

A terrible gnawing in her stomach drove the clamp of her teeth down on her bottom lip so brashly that a metallic taste splayed across her tongue, while the rest of her body was conquered by a paralyzing dread. A familiar tribulation, yet it unfailingly delivered a devastating, fearful blow upon her. She braced as the steps rounded the corner.

The ghastly sight that came into view started to windingly reel a gasp of horror from her chest, but the waft of the obscenely foul smell puckered her throat and seized her lungs. She gagged, the immediate nausea boiling in her stomach was so vigorous, it seemingly circulated to pollute her veins. The weakness forced her to her knees.

Across was a figure doused head to toe in a copious swath of blood and guts, dripping onto the floor to accompany the trail of crimson footprints. A silhouette that appeared to be human, a female with a stature that didn’t stray too far from her own, but the viscous film of gore rendered it impossible to perceive anything other than absolute terror. An incapacitating quaver robbed her limbs of their ability to even scramble backwards when the entity stopped in front of her, looming over with eyes widened by a sheer hunger.

Her eyes burned from both the stinging tears of panic and the profane smell of shredded organs, but still, she recognized it. She recognized her. Her classmate. Her classmate that crossed paths with her to lecture every morning. Her classmate who she hasn’t seen in weeks, who she thought had either dropped the class or stopped caring about attendance. Her classmate, a demon, because who else could wear another’s blood without a faze? Whose blood was she wearing?

“What have you done?” Words frail and shuddering, yet resounded vividly of her helplessness, her trepidation.

“Smart, isn’t it?” the opposing girl stared down at her open palms cloaked in grinded flesh, as if marvelling at her artwork. “Dunking myself in human remains to mask my demon smell from him. I just had to wait for you to be alone.”

Horror twisted her face at the monster’s malevolent words that not only painted a picture of the slaughtering of a person, but the torment of knowing it was all to keep Taehyung away for her to be uninhibitedly feasted on.

“And my god, did I wait.” The womanly quality of her voice shifted towards something feral – a resonating growl so heavy, its deep-tones rattled the bones of her victim. Following in mutation were the whiskers of fur that bloomed across her skin, the brute canines that elongated until they jutted out from under her lips, and the nails that burgeoned into dense claws and prodded the girl’s neck when they wrapped around her throat to pull her up off the ground.

As her feet peeled off the floor in a dangle, she gasped, coughed, before the demon’s grasp tautened and her breath was cut short. Strangled, her legs thrashed and her hands frantically batted at the chokehold around her airway. But before the squeeze tightened to the point of clipping her vision to a black, it paused, even slackened a little for her to desperately wheeze for any remnant of an inhale. The demon sharply sniffed the air, head veering to look back. Her ears, now furred and tapered to a point, twitched.

Swiftly, the girl was dropped to the ground, where she clung to the cold tiles as she hysterically choked and panted for air. The assailant snarled at the sound of the door crashing down, and then in a rapid haze, a fuming incubus rounded the corner. There was a crossly grit in his teeth and an aggressive fire in his irises that glowed red.

“I can still smell you, you fucking dog.”

The canine charged towards him, only to be struck away with a single arm that sent her crashing into the lockers, the metal sheets denting on impact. The familiar lunged forward and captured her neck in the wrap of his arm, dragging her away as she floundered in his smother. Before he could constrict the chokehold closer to his chest and watch the light extinguish from her eyes, she struggled and thrashed, and with the advantage of the slick blood she was covered in, she gained just enough leeway for her jaw to unhinge in a gaping drop. Taehyung hissed when she sank her rows of teeth into his arm.

The girl sprawled on the floor had only just caught her breath, only for it to be seized all over again in a gasp of dread, watching the foreign quality of pain plaster her familiar’s face. With frantic haste, she polished her vision from the tears in her eyes with the quick smear of the back of her hand before fixing on a locker door that was only scarcely hanging from its hinges after the collision. She scrambled towards it.

Taehyung jerked away from the demon’s latch before she took skin and meat off with her. However, she kept a grip on his arm, pulling him down with the bend of her knees before hurling him over her shoulders and onto the ground front of her. Still clutching onto his arm, her grapple tightened and her foot nailed his shoulder to the ground, preparing to tear his limb from its socket. Except, before she could do so, she stumbled forward when a pang met the back of her head.

The girl, while quaking in fear, had still managed to rip the dangling metal slate from its bolts before driving it down on the opposition’s head. Although inflicting only the trivial damage of a scrape across her forehead, the brief divert of her attention provided him the window to regain dominance. He swiped at her feet and sent her backwards to the ground. Quickly, he climbed on top of her, trapping her arms and shoulders under the kneel of his knees. Destructive hands clasped around her jaw, and the celestial flinched with the avert of her gaze when a swift wrench detached the head from the rest of the demon’s neck. The canine’s body fell limp.

Taehyung sat back on his knees, chest falling and rising in rhythm to his breath that strayed from consistent. The carcass beneath him gradually degraded to a dust, caving in on itself, disintegrating until the specks evaporated in air. She watched in bewilderment as the very tangible bloody body vanished before her eyes without a trace of evidence for its existence. Piecing that this was how demons decomposed explained why the human race had never encountered and investigated the body of a dead demon before in the worldly historic timeline that they shared.

Her eyes refocused on the incubus that that climbed to his feet and stood before her. Carefully, he pinched her chin and angled it upwards as he inspected her neck. “Are you okay?”

“Sh-she didn’t have a hold on me for that long. She didn’t leave any marks,” The reassurance she tried to fortify failed in the face of the rattling fright that still had its grip on her. She grabbed his wrist to move him away, only for him to catch the still damp locks of her hair at the back of her head instead. He gently tugged so that her neck stayed craned. “Tae—” her protest cut short when he connected his lips to her neck.

“So bruises don’t form,” he justified, his hush whispers grazing her neck with warm tickles and cascading a shiver down her spine.

She swallowed as her eyes closed and her hands dropped in submission. The sighs gathering in her throat prompted by the brief, lush strokes of his tongue were extinguished before they could surface on her lips. The slight ache that had encased her neck, while hardly falling in her register during the terrifying ordeal, was beginning to dissipate.

“She killed someone to try to hide her smell, Taehyung. Someone had to die so she could get to me.”

He drew away at the sound of her frail whimpers to find dews collecting in the corner of her eyes, plagued by the thought of her being any sort of link in a murder. Her eyes drooped close under tensed brows as she considered if the victim was also a student on campus, if the victim has a family that is concerned about their disappearance, if the victim was – hopefully – already dead before the demon had shredded and grinded their body.

Uneasy by her distress, he frowned. “If she was trying to eat you, chances are killing humans is habitual to her to begin with. This isn’t your fault. She’s not gonna hurt anyone anymore.” The pads of his thumb swiped under her rim of tears. A slight touch, yet he could feel the full capacity of her quivering. “I almost didn’t sense her. I’m sorry I let her get to you.”

Her brows wrinkled at his quiet voice. Taehyung wasn’t often particularly loud; a low husk in his tone was characteristic even. But there was an unacquainted wear in his voice that stifled his volume. Her eyes opened for her to study his face, to capture the blanched quality of his skin, drained of colour more than ever. Having never seen him tired, the current exhaustion that weighed down his expression and dimmed his eyes rendered him unfamiliar. The pit of her stomach felt as if it hollowed when her gaze dove down to the thick trickles of red that colonized his arm, spilling from the imprints of the canine’s bite that deeply punctured his skin

The familiar tightened the towel that had started to unravel from her body before his warmth ultimately departed as he leaned back against adjacent wall of lockers and slumped to the ground with a wearied huff.

The girl swallowed down the char in the cap of her throat as she lowered herself down next to him. She has never seen him so vulnerable, and there was a wrenching in her chest knowing that she had something to do with it. “You’re hurt again.” It left her mouth nearly muted, carried by only wispy breaths. A meek hand gingerly overlapped his arm as her frame inched forward. “You need to be healed.”

“I’m fine. I don’t need—“

“Taehyung,” her tone adopted something unfaltering that, despite her apprehension, confirmed she wasn’t requesting.

And then he found that he couldn’t break away from her misty eyes that still glowed with resilience. He stopped to drink in the longing he perceived in her soft stare, hiding behind a dutiful excuse. She remained wordless, yet her projections were magnetizing, convincing. He obliged with the travel of his hand to rest her cheek in the flat of his palm. His touch was tender as he guided her to close the distance between them, stopping just as their noses browsed one another. As her quiet and warm breaths caressed his skin, his lips marginally parted so he could indulge in the anticipation that glazed over her hooded eyes. When his ears picked up the thumping in her chest and she reciprocated in the part of her own lips, he succumbed to the concoction of desire and thirst that simmered within him and caught her lips in his.

The docile exhale she released against his skin inspired him to draw her in closer and deepen the kiss. Without breaking away from her lips, his pull brought her forward and she fell on top of his leg, straddling his thigh. He left her no room to gasp at the sensation of her bare sex against the fabric on his leg. His movements became hungry, only confronted by his deprivation now that he had her honeyed taste splaying across his tongue. Her hands clutched the broadness at his shoulders, balling his shirt into her fists. His greed only swelled when her respires became erratic and seemingly pleaded for breaks of air that he denied her. Eager palms scaled down her sides, loosening the swath of her towel in the process, and arrived at her hips where he guided her in a steady rock against his thigh. His tongue swiped against hers as he swallowed every little mewl and whimper that escaped her from the delicious friction. He relished in the way she trembled on top of him, until she breathlessly whined, “Please, wait.”

She was almost alarmed by how abruptly he pulled away from her. His hands had relocated and planted on her shoulders, holding her at a distance away from him.

Before her mouth could open with a question, he lowly uttered, “Don’t force yourself.”

For what his words lacked in volume, he made up for with a harsh sternness. His warmth shifted into something cold and distant. He rewrapped her in the towel before moving her off of him.

“Let’s get you home.”

He got up, and as her lips didn’t know what words to form, she could only watch him with a look of hurt and confusion. Her eyes bore into his back, waiting for him to turn around and offer a reassuring glance, a mention reasoning, but he didn’t.

Taehyung broke one of the high windows to fashion an excuse of vandals breaking in to justify what had happened to the marred lockers. He hosed down the bloody footprints to erase the evidence that would suggest otherwise.

And then for the rest of the night, she laid in the bed of her dorm room with Jungkook slouching on her windowsill, watching over her instead.

a/n: haha sorry no real FULL smut yet, just a lot of teasing and tension 🥴

tag list: @ehu-agavebaby @http-jinnie @ggsmashgg @la-vie-en-tae @tangledsparkles @lilacdreams-00 @megladon1616 @enigmaticlove-03 please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future updates!

#armiesnet #ksmutclub #bts smut #taehyung smut #bts scenarios #taehyung x reader #bts fanfics #taehyung scenarios #taehyung fanfics #bts #kim taehyung

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phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess · 4 years

Link

Hey guys,

This is the local dog rescue charity that we were carers for, for several years. May do it again in future, but after Debbie (who was rescued by Precious Paws), it feels like we need a break.

We have had three foster fails, but two puppers came through our home, learned to feel safe and loved, and went on to a perfectly matched new family.

There is always a demand for carers, so if you think you can, have a look at their Carer Info. Or look into the FB page, to keep your eyes open.

The best way to find new carers for animals is having a network of people sharing the Urgent statuses, which flags the attention of new groups of people. No dog will ever be LEFT on death row. They look for carers until the last second, but will absofuckinglutely take the dog anyway and put them in a boarding kennel short-term whilst a carer is located.

No doggo left behind.

It can be a bit confronting, though, so I understand if you cannot. The majority of the dogs have been surrendered to the pound, for various reasons, and the rescues in the region put their hands up for the ones slated for being put down each week. This list constantly refills, so there is always a need.

Some other dogs, like Debbie, are rescued directly from the disgusting human slime of the world who have caused them pain, injury, or attempted to kill them.

Carers open their homes to as many as they can, but there will always be more needed. A dog can be with you for a few months, to a few years, depending on their needs.

Little Willow was so scared of everything when we got her, it took 5 months to get her to trust men near her due to where she came from. But after nearly a year, she was ready for adoption and went to a new mother; happy, healthy, and confident. She was fast, smart and a very delightful little doggo. I do miss her, sometimes, but her new mother sent us photos of Willow on her first and second adoption anniversaries.

And little Gemini’s face, when her new family sent a photo from her first meeting with her human brother, was SO BIG!

It is hard to say goodbye, because they are with you for a long time, and you have to work hard with them, so they are an integral part of your life. But it helps to know that their future family is out there, not yet aware that there’s a dog shaped hole waiting to be filled.

As my parental unit says, “In reality, if they were not with us, they’d be dead. Someone without any heart dropped these animals off to be killed, and because of all these rescues, all these dogs and cats get another chance at life.”

Harvey, who we have now, was 9mths (Willow too) when they came to us. BABIES who just were too energetic or too big, so they had to be sent away. It takes a while to rebuild that trust in them.

Not to mention the absolute FUCKS who take their little old dogs, who have known and loved them their WHOLE LIVES to the pound and walk out with a new puppy (or kitten). FUCKS. Those little doggos are never forgotten, PPARs and the other rescues make sure they have somewhere to go as well! I know of a 16yo bulldog called rosie, who was snappy when she first came and very depressed, who blossomed with her carers into a happy old girl. She was adopted recently!!!

It is important to be aware that these animals are often traumatised and have behaviours that some can consider ‘naughty’. You have to be understanding. Like traumatised kids, the worst thing you can do is yell or hit or whatever, even if they piss on your favourite rug or chew a beloved pair of shoes.

They may snap and snarl. Might shy away from men, or women, or teenagers. Might cower away, or show subservience constantly. Might hide for a few weeks. Might wet themselves or run to hide if something makes a loud noise or there is a specific trigger. They might rip up the couch twice, or hump your pillows. Try to escape the yard (need strong fences). A trigger? One of our kids was terrified of men, the noise of a powertool, and anyone having the hood of their car open. Would sit, shaking, panting in fear if these things were present. Still a bit much for her, but she knows to go to a human, who will keep her safe. Or sit with her sister doggo, who will protect her.

Willow was scared of men, shouting, and would be immediately wet-herself-afraid and show her belly in subservience. My giant bearded mountain of a sibling would lay on the floor with her, and talk gently, let her come over to sniff him. Eventually, she would lay next to him, and finally he could pat her, and it progressed from there. This took months of consistency and care.

I know of another carer couple who had this tiny little dog who was SO SCARED of everything she spent absolute months hiding under their bed or sofa. Too scared to be touched. They fed her and never made a fuss if she had a little accident indoors. And one day, she popped her head out while the male carer was pretending to be occupied... and licked his arm. That was it, went straight back under the bed. But it was a huge step. She can now be held and cuddled, and loves her little life. But it took the time, understanding and patience of these carers to get her there. It’s important to note that carers dont normally have the whole backstory for each dog, but after a while, you tend to get good at figuring it out based on behaviours. Harvey’s behaviours were extremely frantic for attention, he didn’t know how to sit or be still, he was desperate for attention; his behaviours increased when on a lead (which had to be used for the first few weeks and outside time, as this was a New Household Member time). It was clear that given his age, when we got him, and his behaviours that he’d been an xmas gift puppy that had gotten WAAAAAAY bigger than anticipated. When he was small he’d been the fuss of what we suspect was at least 2 children. After getting too big, he was put on a leash in the yard, and had no real interaction.

Harvey would go BALLISTIC if given even a glance from a human. He NEEDED attention, and it took months of careful work with him to teach sit, stay, look, settle, back back, etc. He’s still a bit ridiculous, sometimes, but he can sleep on a bed with a human and only half drown them in spit (ugh) lmao.

So consider if you could be a carer. Or, if that isn’t realistic for you right now... donate.

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Donate, if you can.

If you’re in Brisbane, you might see them doing sausage sizzles at Bunnings on the weekends to raise needed funds!

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COVID-19 hit all the rescue charities hard. Their normal fundraising was crippled by the lockdowns, but animals are always in need of new homes and protection.

If you can help out your local shelters, they’d appreciate it!

There’s food and supplies that need to be paid for; PPAWs specifically help out pensioners who take on an animal, by providing the food and toys, collar, bedding, etc. There’s desexing, microchipping and all vaccinations to be paid for. Some animals have extreme medical issues that need to be fixed (such as a dog surrendered with a broken hip, or dogs like Debbie, who were starved almost to death. Who need intensive and long-term things; with Debbie, my family put money forwards for her insulin and eye surgeries, etc. bc we could budget for it. Not everyone can, though.

There’s also little emergencies here and there that they jump in for, to assist. [E.g early on when the caninculin levels were being sorted, Debbie had a random fit, so I rushed her in and they discovered her BSL had hit 1 - very dangerous. PPAWs got on the phone and said, “Any tests, any medication, any fluids, anything that needs to happen for that little girl, you DO IT” and they stabilised her. PPAWs also helped fund the full-day glucose testing and blood panel the next day and an overnight with the vet, that was pretty expensive. To be clear, it is expected that her starvation and new diabetes was likely to experience highs and lows, so we had bought a glucometer, and had squeezy-top bottles of honey all over the house as an emergency-response kit. When Debbie went funny, we filled her mouth full of honey and transported; which was the protocol, as was taking her medication chart (she’d been waaaay high for BSL that morning so this dip was SCARY). It took another incident before the vet decided to use an interstitial fluid monitor, and the results backed up our concerns that Debbie was having completely random highs/lows and spikes with no real pattern. She had the vet recommended food and no treats outside of the ones she was allowed, and at times suggested by the vet. Except on her last day when the vet said she could absolutely have a wholw happy meal, and little Debbie was DELIGHTED. I have the funniest photo of her with it all in her mouth looking excited but not sure where to go from there, but it still makes me cry to look at it because we lost her just three weeks ago. (We did rip it into little mouthfuls for her, though. Just to clarify.) She was placed on a higher dose, after that, and was completely stable from there. It was the testing that initially identified a flaw, though, and we are forever grateful that PPAWs stepped in on that day.

And the point of my rambling speech... is that shit happens. Especially with these dogs, cats, horses, and all the other animals they rescue. Emergencies are often the most expensive to cover for charities.

On the upside! Donations also help with a) transporting animals to carers around the region, and b) on the occasion that an animal’s new furever family is interstate, they can be flown to them!

Lots of stuff.

Think about the mess of words, and consider donating - to PPAWs, or find out the name of your local charity and see if they need help!

#sorry for interjecting all the personal things #ppaws

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adamsvanrhijn · 4 years

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If you’re still doing the directors cut, would you be willing to do “strange how I fit into you (there's a distance erased with the greatest of ease)” from “York , October 1933” to as far as you want since it’s a long passage? Thanks!

moroh boy oh boy oh boy

ok wel it IS a long passage, so we’ll see how much i get through!

strange how I fit into you (there's a distance erased with the greatest of ease) by smithens

under cut for discussion of suicide + length

York, October 1933

so i chose october to be the Rough Month mostly because octobers i think... can be pretty rough? it’s the middle of autumn and things are starting to really turn colder and grayer, so the seasonal element hits harder, and that’s a factor here for thomas... an extrapolation from canon but not one that i think requires mental gymnastics.

The door creaks on its hinges as it shuts.

Before Thomas can think about what this means for him — all those lies he'll have to keep up with, more stories to get straight, it's never ending and he's just so tired — the bed is shifting underneath him and there's something (Mrs Ellis's knitted Afghan, or Miss Baxter's quilt) (no, there's yarn on his cheek, it's the Afghan) more round his shoulders.

Not just the blanket.

"What'd you need?" Richard murmurs. He is very, very close. "What can I do?"

one sensory element of being up to your eyeballs in depression & brainfog.... everything is hypersensitive but also you’re not entirely aware at the same time, so everything that happens to your body prompts another little mental loop that you’re too exhausted to deal with... that’s what’s going on here

richard could be better at being comforting; he second guesses himself... wants to get it right but the stakes are high if he doesn’t, so he errs on the side of caution and ends up overwhelming him more by making another Decision, although he does figure it out eventually

Thomas shakes his head. Tears prick at his eyes again, but he keeps them shut tight — seeing is the only thing he can put a stopper in, no matter what he'll still have to hear and feel things. No matter how much he wishes otherwise. Not much to see even if he wanted, though, it's the sun's just about gone down and he didn't bother to turn on a lamp before. Dark and cold, even with the curtains open. The days just keep getting shorter; working nights doesn't help. Maybe if it were summer…

more of the seasonal element; more of the sensory element

thomas in this scene is pretty high up on the suicidality scale (i’m leaving what happened before this starts up to interpretation bc that’s an important part of the scene) but he has come down a little now that richard is present. the headspace he is in here is more “i want to go to sleep and never wake up” rather than planning/desiring to actually kill himself, and he’s thinking Around it but not actually getting sucked in again, which is good but still a difficult and exhausting mental position to be in

"What can I do, Thomas," says Richard into his ear. He lies down behind him all the way and slings his arm across Thomas's chest, and the weight of it is soothing as much as it is suffocating.

He wishes he had it easier. That he could only feel one of those things at a time.

He wishes all of this were easier.

"What's happened? Has something happened you've not told me about?"

more richard not entirely Getting it... i think a big part of his character in this is he’s an answers guy, he tends to follow patterns, and as this richard has never been depressed he associates Sadness and Despair with something happening, whereas for thomas it’s almost the opposite where it’s associated more with inertia and malaise, everything’s bad and it’s all blending together, so thomas can’t exactly answer the question properly because while he did have a switch over he can’t pinpoint it, but he’s aware of his mental state as well as that richard doesn’t entirely understand it and that awareness doesn’t help him very much here

also i think spooning can be a very good comfort position so in this verse it’s a coupley thing that they do... the big spoon gets to be the comforter and the little spoon is the comforted

He shakes his head.

Richard takes his mangled hand out from under the blanket and holds it, squeezing tight. It makes his third and fourth fingers cramp, but that's something to feel that isn't dull and numb and nothing, so he doesn't mind it.

He does mind when Richard's thumb traces up on the inside of his wrist.

"Don't," Thomas chokes out.

He lets go.

"If," Richard starts, "if I hadn't come home when I did…"

richard is thinking what if and his actions are betraying that before his words are; thomas doesn’t like that it’s being drawn attention to

he strongly dislikes being vulnerable and finds it very viscerally uncomfortable even with richard, who is the only person he allows to get this close to him anyway

"But you did."

"Yeah," he says after a moment. "Yeah, I did, I – God, Thomas," and he buries his face into his back and shoulder and tugs him tighter with his arm, breathing heavily. "Oh, Thomas."

"It's too hard," Thomas whispers.

A small kiss at the nape of his neck, beneath his ear, at the corner of his jaw.

He barely feels them.

"I wish it weren't."

"I can't."

"I know."

desensitized! this is also when it finally clicks for richard what thomas’s needs here actually are and what the situation is at this point

It's Tuesday. Eventually they get out of bed. When he thinks Thomas isn't paying attention Richard jams the door latches and takes the shaving kits out of the washroom, rearranges the cupboards in the kitchen. Apparently he can't even be trusted in his own home.

the day of the week is brought up in the first four scenes of this fic (monday > friday/saturday > sunday > tuesday) because the anchor of the fic is domestic chores & the process of doing laundry; in this time period there was still an established order to doing this that like, both their mothers and every other woman they know would have followed (which is why it works for richard’s sister to do theirs for them in the first scene) and that thomas implements, so that’s the structure here. tuesday or wednesday is pressing & steaming.

thomas is attributing a sneaky element to richard’s actions here that doesn’t actually exist. richard is fully aware that thomas is paying attention when he does these things because he’s not taking his eye off of him for a second; thomas is in a frame of mind where he thinks that richard will assume, based on him being catatonic, that he is not paying attention, and thus will not pay him any in turn, because that is his experience when he is depressed... but that’s not how richard is, nor how their relationship is

richard is following best practices here but it’s the sort of best practices that makes the suicidal person feel like shit, lmao. eliminate opportunities for privacy + remove methods, “rearranges” is code for hiding/getting rid of poison and sharp things. also the shaving element in this & the companion piece is like a thinly veiled masculinity thing in addition to the mental health thing it also has

it is because richard knows, loves and trusts thomas that he is doing it, not because he doesn’t, but thomas isn’t in the right place to figure that out here

"You won't let me be useful," Thomas mumbles. He's seated on the floor at Richard's feet, a pathetic heap, wrapped in a blanket and with a mug of tea within reach, though he's let it go cold. The sofa is right there, and that's where he'd started, but sitting properly feels wrong, and he's not going to laze about in bed all evening. A few hours ago that was all he wanted. Things can change so quick sometimes.

sitting on the floor... the mood. he’s been there a little while, that’s what the tea is meant to indicate. he’s now conscious of himself and his surroundings enough that he’s back in to being Cognitive, analysing what is around him and what he wants. what he wants is to be useful and feel like he’s contributing, because he’s put a lot of his self-worth into that in the first months of them living together (they both have! it’s a source of conflict!) and now feels like that’s been taken away

one of the big parts of thomas’s canonical depression & suicide attempt is to do with him lacking a sense of purpose and feeling like he cannot contribute; in this scenario he feels that he has manufactured his contributions and he has tied his self-worth to them entirely. he’s very much given himself the impression, due to past experiences, the brain making patterns, that if he’s not useful (if he’s not perfect, in how he sets standards for himself) richard’s not going to want him around anymore. he thinks he’s made up his own worth basically and he expects richard to leave him / feels like he’s deceiving him, and that’s what prompts the spiral, it’s sort of about getting-it-over-with, and that’s also the element of his depression that contributes to the lack of sexual desire & interest that is referred to in the next scene of this fic as well as seen in richard’s pov in the companion piece... big feelings of fraud/imposter syndrome here

Richard doesn't look at him. Too busy pressing a collar. "You do this every week, Mr Barrow," he says. He only ever calls him that when he's flirting or trying to cheer him up or such like.

"And?"

pressing and steaming day!

"And you might let me for a change," nonchalant in a careful sort of way. "You've just been burning the midnight oil a bit too often…"

"I've been working at midnight," mutters Thomas. They're short of staff: more nights for everybody. He had today off, and he'll have tomorrow off, and then he'll go in Thursday night and make himself useful somehow.

"You're not going back to work for seven to ten days," Richard says sharply. He sets down the iron. It probably needs to be heated again but he won't leave Thomas alone to do it. That's all they need, is him doing a shoddy job of the ironing… "You're ill."’

"I'm not ill – "

"No use arguing about it," interrupts Richard. "Settled it when I telephoned, wasn't even my suggestion."

Flu Lie.... richard telephoned thomas’s job

the iron is made of metal (iron!) and has to be manually heated to work

thomas’s concern about their household is still present even in the circumstances...

ok i’m getting sleepy i’ll publish this now bc you can’t really save asks as drafts properly and then i’ll get to the rest like, tomorrow lol

"Because you lied…"

"Thomas, you and I lie every day of our lives – "

He stops talking at the first sniffle. Somehow he manages to sit even after Thomas has slumped over with his head against his calves; he wraps his arms around him and takes his head into his shoulder. Thomas doesn't know whether he should feel guilty for allowing him to sit on the floor like he is or thankful that he wants to or both. "I'll take the week off, too."

"We can't afford – "

"We've got family," Richard says softly. We, he says, not I. "They'll look after things. That's what they're for, isn't it?"

"You can't quit everything for just me," Thomas says, hoarse. He's not sobbing; he doesn't have the energy for it. But he's not dry-eyed either.

"I can," he returns. "And I'm going to, Thomas."

"Why," he mumbles, "why, why, why," over and over, because that's the only question he's got in his head left to ask. He's not even sure he wants the answer.

"Because that's what I'm for," still so soft, when Thomas doesn't deserve that at all, "that's what I'm here for, love."

"'m not worth it."

Richard doesn't bother arguing with him. "I love you," he says. They don't say it very often; Thomas doesn't deserve him saying it now. "God, I love you."

"You shouldn't."

"But I do," breathes Richard, clutching him close. Nobody's ever held him like this before and especially not when he's feeling the way he is now. Somehow that registers for him. "I do," reassuring. "Fuck, I should've noticed – "

"Didn't want you to."

"I know, Thomas." He kisses his temple. "I know."

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saturnjae · 5 years

Text

home alone ~ l.j.n

word count = 1.2k

💌 requested:

‘can you write a soft jeno smut where he’s just sort of tired after practice so he sneaks to your house (like a high school dating relationship, Jeno is a dancer but not an idol, so a non-idol au lol) and he’s just in the mood but everything about it is just relaxing and sensual :-) maybe a little overstimulation ty !!’

> i tried to make it soft and a little fluffy. idk how well i did with that. if i was good at that i’d have a fluff blog... regardless, i hope you can enjoy this.

includes: dancer! jeno, non-idol! jeno, fingering, oral, overstimulation, tiddy sucking, cursing, riding,,,

:::

a sharp thud resonated throughout your room, you froze in shock. another few proceeded and you decided to get up and investigate.

there was a figure standing in front of your house, but the little light he setting sun provided made it hard for you to make out who it was. you could see them clumsily scrounging around for more stones to throw at your window; the sound of you cracking open your window caught his attention.

“y/n, can you let me in? i’m too tired to climb up,” you could almost make out the cute pout on his face. from his attire, black sweats and a plain white shirt, you could tell he had just finished dance practice. jeno usually came over after and climbed up through your window, to avoid your strict parents.

“you’re lucky they’re out,” he internally fist bumped at the news, dance had been more strenuous than usual. you raced down to the front door, flung it open and were greeted by a warm smile and an even warmer hug. after kicking off his shoes and putting his bag down, he settled down on the sofa with you.

you had switched on the tv, hoping to relax with him, but jeno seemed restless. he moved every few seconds or moved the placement of his hands. finally, he spoke up.

“i can’t take this anymore,” he turned you so you were straddling his hips, his hands came to rest on yours. then he put his lips against yours, initiating a slow, but brief kiss. “couldn’t stop thinking about you all day, babe.” he groaned kissing at your neck.

“why’s that?” you questioned playfully. he took hold of your hand, which was tracing patterns on his chest, and slowly brought it down. past his firm abdomen and waistband, leaving it to rest on his groin. you gasped at the feeling of his bulge under your palm.

“do you know how hard it is to dance with a boner?” he starting to grind himself into your palm. you captured his moans by leaning forward to kiss him again. this one much more passionate and he slipped his tongue in. it explored your mouth, softly gliding against yours, causing you to moan into his mouth.

you hastily ground your clothed core, needy for him to fill you, but jeno wanted to take his time with you. he had spent the whole day fantasising about the many ways he could take you; he didn’t want this to be over so soon.

“patience,” his grip on your hips tightened as he controlled your pace, slowing you down. he trailed light kissed down your neck and nipped at the base of it. the cock strained against the fabric of his bottoms, but he wanted to pleasure you first.

without breaking the kiss, he picked you up and whisked you upstairs to your bedroom. once you were lain your bed, he pulled away to take the both of your clothes off. his actions were slow and sensual.

now naked, he had full access to you. he began kissing down from your collar bones. when he came to eye level with your breasts, he pushed he clothed mounds together, kneading them. without hesitation, his mouth went to you perked bud. his hot, pink muscle once on it, licking its way over your nipple. he tugged at it with is teeth; your hands flew up to his head and gripped at his locks. once, he had both of your nipples sore, he resumed his descent.

two dark, hungry eyes peered up at you from between your thighs, as his hot breath fanned over your glistening heat.

“always so wet for me,” he hummed, collecting your wetness on one of his fingers. languidly, he thrust his finger into you, soon adding a second. his mouth came to you clit as he began to suck on it and scissor his digits inside of you.

“s-so close,” you helplessly whimpered, clinging to the edge. then, his fingers curled up and hit you in just the right spot and you came undone. your hands flew to his head and pulled at his locks, as your release washed over you. then it began to subside, but jeno’s movements did not.

he dragged his fingers out of you and lapped at your released, causing you to squirm under his ministrations. any attempt you push him off was futile. his strong arms wrapped under your thighs holding you in place; all you could do was convulse uncontrollably as you he feasted on you.

“it’s too much, jeno!” then suddenly, your second orgasm crushed you. your eyes rolled back and your back arched high off the bed. and finally, jeno slowed to a stop, sitting up, with a satisfied smirk on his face, which you responded to it with a look of annoyance.

“i can’t help it, you taste so good.” he chuckled, sitting up. fatigue made it hard for you to keep your eyes open, but his red, throbbing cock reminded you that you’d be cumming again. laying back, you prepared yourself for another orgasm, but he had other plans.

“can you ride me?” he asked with pleading eyes. after you agreed, he pulled you onto his lap and rested his back on your headboard. you pulled a condom out of your nightstand and rolled it onto him. his hands found purchase on your hips, as you lifted yourself up and put him at your entrance. you both moaned as you sank down on him, feeling him stretch you out, inch by inch.

“so fucking tight,” he groaned as his head lulled backwards. once adjusted, you started to bounce on his cock at a steady pace. your walls were still sensitive, but it felt so good, you would gladly take him like this forever; the feeling of you was driving him mad, he began to bring you down harder onto his cock. watching as your breast bounced as he thrust up to meet your drops. he brought his mouth to yours, swallowing all of your whines.

once again your walls started to contract around him in the most delicious way. his thrusts got harsher; by now, you were too weak to ride him properly any more. all you could do was cling to his shoulders to keep yourself up right.

“gonna cum,” you gasped, breaking the kiss. wanton moans erupted from you as he pounded deep into you, brushing spots that had you seeing stars. you chanted each other’s names out; the familiar coil in your gut had built up and was ready to snap. a particularly hard thrust was all you needed and you were cumming around his girth.

your heat became suffocating you tight. he grunted, his coordination was starting to fail him, as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. finally, you felt his cock twitch and a guttural groan left him. he rocked his hips into you, riding out his orgasm.

after calming his breathing, he pulled himself out of you, cleaned himself up, then pulled you into his embrace. you were ready to drift off to sleep, but you realised something...

“you know my parents will kill me, if they come home to us like this...”

:::

i hope you liked it, but idk if it’s soft enough lmao. i had to change so much stuff tho.

#nct #jeno #smut #scenario #nct smut #nct scenario #jeno scenario #jeno smut #nct dream scenario #nct dream smut

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astarryon · 6 years

Text

Hard Feelings Part 9

Pairings: Bucky x reader

Warnings: Mild sexual content?? Nothing is very descriptive, it’s just a bit more PG 13 than usual this time around

A/N: Okie dokie folks, here we are! I apologize in advance for... well you’ll see when you read it! (I’m not actually sorry lmao). As always, if you have any questions or comments, feel free to send them my way! You guys know I live for feedback! I hope you enjoy this one!

Part 8

—

“Steve?” Bucky called, knocking once on his best friend’s door before pushing it open. He was slightly out of breath, and did his best to return his breathing patterns to normal. Bucky really ought to have showered before coming up to Steve’s room, but he’d been so deep in thought during his personal workout that he hadn’t bothered giving it a second thought. There was too much bouncing around in his head right now, and that was dangerous; it meant his guard was down. It meant he was emotional.

Steve looked up from his closet, where he’d been in the middle of pulling out shirts and deliberating which one he should wear. “Hey, Buck. Have a good session?”

Bucky didn’t answer, his gaze immediately drawn to the shirt Steve grasped in his hands. It was a nice one; a collared, long sleeved button up, the same shade of blue as Steve’s eyes. This gave Bucky pause, and prompted him to gesture to the garment his friend was holding in his hand. “What’s the occasion?”

The look Steve offered Bucky in response was comically disbelieving. “It’s Valentine’s Day, remember?” He hadn’t, truth be told. Days tended to blur together when Bucky was less than content, and it was no secret that, as of late, his mind had been more than a little troubled. “Wanda and I have our annual hate date tonight.”

Now there was one dynamic which baffled Bucky to an even greater extent than the hesitant dance that you and him were currently engaged in. Wanda and Steve had been going on these so called ‘hate dates’ for years. They weren’t actual dates, according to Steve — they were just a way for Steve and Wanda to spend time together, eat dinner, and make fun of all the actual couples who were taking Valentines Day seriously. It definitely sounded like an actual date to Bucky, but he wasn’t exactly in a position to comment on the situation, and especially not now.

“Right,” Bucky entertained his friend, unwilling to tease Steve about his plans lest he choose not to help him as a result. Then Bucky would have to turn to Sam for advice, and Bucky was pretty sure he’d rather implode. “Okay, well I won’t take up too much of your time, then. I just... I have something I wanted to ask you about.”

“Well, please step into my office,” Steve chuckled, extending a hand to invite Bucky further into his room. “What’s up, man?”

He stepped further into the room and settled down onto Steve’s bed, stalling for time with each step he took. Bucky still wasn’t... the best at asking for help or expressing himself. He hated it, truth be told, because it was difficult. It was part of why he’d been avoiding you for these past few weeks; Bucky wanted to talk to you, to ask you to confirm for him if what he felt was what he thought he did, but he was much too frightened of the answer he would receive. To put himself out there like that, to open himself up to... well. He could think about that later. If he couldn’t even be open with his best friend, how could he expect to be open with you?

Bucky shook his head at himself and sighed, looking up at Steve with what he was sure could be classified as resignation. “I just need... I mean, I just...” He was meant to be breathing right now, he was pretty sure. That’s what you had been encouraging him to do during your therapy sessions, since he wasn’t currently allowing you access to his exact emotions.

You just have to breathe, you had told him. When you’re apprehensive, or angry, or sad, or afraid. All you can do is breathe.

So that was what he did, breathed in and out until his anxiety passed and he felt better enough to ask Steve what he wanted to. He wondered if you would be proud of him for remembering his technique; he sort of hated himself for isolating you all these weeks, because it meant he wasn’t able to ask.

Clearing his throat and pointedly looking at the floor, Bucky forced himself to speak. “I just was wondering... back in the thirties, when I was... when I was normal. I talked to you about girls, right? When I liked them?”

Steve thought a moment, processing the information before answering Bucky with an inclination of his head. “Yeah, Buck, all the time. You weren’t super shy about that sort of thing.”

“Okay,” Bucky mumbled, licking the information into his mind. He was sure he could remember as much, but his natural life had been so long ago; many of those memories were fuzzy, blown out. Wanda had offered on more than one occasion to clean them up for him, but Bucky hated to have people inside his mind. Or, normally he did. You and your power were the one exception to that. “And how did I know? When I liked a girl, how did I know?”

Steve blinked a couple times, seeming to mentally piece together Bucky’s words and any possible motives behind them. Once it clicked, his eyes lit up with a new understanding, and Steve had the tiniest smile playing at his mouth. “Is this— is this about Y/n?”

“That’s not an answer, Rogers,” Bucky pointed out, rolling his eyes and staring harder at the carpet.

“Sorry, Buck.” His tone of voice said he was anything but, but Bucky had no choice other than to let it go. “Although, to be perfectly honest, I don’t think you ever met a girl you didn’t like back then. All they had to do was bar their eyes at you and you would be swearing up and down that the two of you were gonna run off and get married.”

Wasn’t helpful, really; just made Bucky wish he could get back to what he used to be. The old him wouldn’t have been so jumpy about potential romantic feelings, wouldn’t have had to push you away for damn near a month in order to sort out everything inside his head. James Barnes, sweet talker of the 30s, would’ve been open with his hopeless affection for you. Because, when it came down to it, Bucky was certain that’s what this feeling in his chest was: pure, unadulterated, shamelessly hopeless affection. Part of him had been hoping it would die down, perhaps fade away if he ceased talking to you; now he could see how naive that had been, and he knew he was going to have to fix his mistake.

“Is something wrong?” Steve questioned, brows furrowing in mild concern. “Does this have anything to do with why you’ve been ghosting Y/n the past few weeks?”

Well, fuck it. If Bucky couldn’t tell his best friend, then who could he tell?

“The night of the New Year’s Eve party,” Bucky began, finally finding the courage to look Steve in the eyes. All he found there was kindness, understanding, compassion. The same sorts of things each time you looked at him, despite how horribly he’d recently been treating you. If he got up the courage to speak to you tonight, as he was hoping would be the result of this conversation with Steve, he would owe you the largest apology he’d ever been capable of giving. “After I took Y/n back up to her room to get her settled in for the night, she... she kissed me, at midnight. She was really drunk and I don’t think she knew exactly what she was doing, but she kissed me. And I... it made me feel confused. That’s why I haven’t been speaking to her very much. I don’t know how to... I just don’t know what to do.”

“Oh,” Steve let out after a few moments, shaking his head as though he were attempting to clear out the surprise. “Well, I mean. It’s like you said, Buck, Y/n was drunk. She wasn’t herself. I’m sure if you just explain the situation to her she would be happy to apologize.”

“That’s the thing, Steve,” Bucky pressed, running a hand through his hair. He wouldn’t have had to explain this to you in so many words; he wouldn’t have had to explain this to you at all. One brush of the hand, and you would’ve known exactly what the issue was and how to fix it. “I don’t... I don’t know that I want her to apologize. I think I’m... I don’t know what I think. But what I felt when she kissed me...”

“You have feelings for her,” Steve stated, an empathetic look plastered all over his best friend’s face. Bucky was a bit glad that Steve had spared him from saying the words out loud. He wasn’t embarrassed to feel these things, it was just all so unfamiliar to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had honest to goodness feelings for a woman. “And you’re not sure how to tell her about them.”

Bucky simply nodded, heaving a great sigh. The stretches of sunlight splashed across the carpet were beginning to recede; the sun was going down, and Steve would need to resume getting ready for his plans with Wanda any moment now. It was selfish of Bucky to be taking up so much of his friend’s time when Steve had feelings of his own to sort out.

“Well bud,” Steve said, offering Bucky a solid clap on the back. The smile on his face was genuine, understanding; Bucky really didn’t deserve the kindness Steve was always bestowing him with. “Grand gestures tend to go a long way in confession of feelings, and today’s probably as good as it gets.”

Bucky furrowed a brow. “You don’t think that would be cheap? Valentine’s Day is like the definition of a capitalist holiday.”

“Jesus Christ, what is this obsession you have with corporate America?”

He was unable to help the laughter which escaped him then, and Bucky peered up at Steve’s playfully exasperated expression. How incredibly lucky he was to have a beat friend willing to deal with his constant bullshit. “Sorry, sorry, your right. This is probably the only chance I’m gonna have to do it in private, considering everyone has plans and you and Wanda are going out on your date.”

“Hate date,” Steve corrected, offering Bucky one last pat to the shoulder before wandering over to his closet. “Now be a good friend and help me decide what shirt to wear.”

Bucky stood, shuffling over to stand just behind Steve and trying to ignore the thrill rushing through his stomach. You have to breathe, your words echoed in his ear, the lesson coming back to him like it were a song he had memorized years ago. He wasn’t sure if the reminder applied right now; he was far more giddy than upset, but the words kept repeating in his mind. You have to breathe.

And so he did.

—

“Miss Y/l/n?” Jarvis’s voice filtered through the overhead speakers of your room.

The sound tore your gaze away from the book you clutched in your hands, forcing you to blink and let your eyes adjust to the sudden change in focus. Trough the window you could see the skyline of Nee York City, the building painted a dusty rose as the sun receded behind the horizon. There were more cars out than usual if you weren’t mistaken, though that wasn’t all that surprising; Valentine’s Day was an exceptionally busy holiday most places, and New York was no exception.

Apparently neither were the Avengers, considering everyone was out of the tower on some form of a Valentine’s Day celebration or another.

Well, almost everyone.

Wanda had extended you an invitation to join her and Steve on their hate date or whatever they called it, but you had declined without hesitation. It was a nice gesture, but you weren’t very inclined to act as a third wheel, and the whole ‘hate date’ thing seemed like it was just a way for the two of them to go on a date without having to commit to to a label. You weren’t judging either way, but you preferred to wallow in self pity alone, and you didn’t want to put a damper on Steve and Wanda’s night.

You had lost your courage approximately two days after scouring your memories with Wanda. At the time, you had fully intended to do something with that information you had gained, had planned to confront Bucky and get him to tell you what his issue was. A couple days after that, though, you had convinced yourself that it would be better to just apologize for your drunken behavior and swear that nothing like it would happen again. Another day after that you had told yourself it would be stupid to say anything at all, as it would most likely be effective in promoting Bucky to isolate you completely. You knew that was irrational, but the thoughts weren’t something you were able to help. With Bucky’s emotional register growing increasingly more complex and harder for you to read, you had ultimately elected to say nothing at all. You could keep your feelings quiet as long as you needed to, for both your sakes; doing so would ensure that you could keep him in your day to day life, if only to a small extent.

“Miss Y/l/n?” Jarvis prompted you once more, breaking you from your train of thought.

You blinked, shaking your head and looking to the ceiling reflexively. “What’s up, Jarvis?”

“Mister Barnes would like to know if you would be inclined to join him for dinner in the kitchen.”

You paused, unsure of how to respond. Had you heard Jarvis right? The AI wasn’t flawed; he was Stark tech, after all, meaning it was extremely rare that Jarvis made any mistakes. Still... it would be naive of you not to double check. You definitely weren’t trying to get your hopes up.

“Just, just so I know we’re talking about the same person,” you stuttered out, blinking a couple times and doing your best to work through your confusion without having a complete break down. “You mean Bucky, right? James Barnes?”

“That is correct, Miss. Shall I tell him you’re not feeling up to it?”

“No,” you hurriedly responded, a small surge of panic biting your chest at the suggestion. “No, don’t do that. I’m... tell him...” Was this some kind of prank? The guy went out of his way to dodge speaking to you every chance he got for an entire month and now he was suddenly interested in spending time with you? And over dinner, no less? “Tell him I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

As quickly as you could you stood, placing your book on your bedside table and doing your best to get your wits about you. Of all the things you’d been prepared for tonight, being summoned to dinner by Bucky Barnes hadn’t exactly been on the list. Your mind was trying to cycle through all of the worst scenarios, trying to decipher what was about to be unleashed on you as you made your way to the elevator and made the trip down to the communal floor. Maybe Fury had decided that your methods were ineffective, and was letting Bucky be the one to tell you you were never going to become a field agent. Maybe Bucky was finally ready to tell you off for the situation you had forced him into on New Years. So many possibilities raced through your mind, each one seeming more and more plausible than the last.

Each of those flew right out of your mind as soon as you stepped foot into the kitchen.

The room was dimly lit, vanilla scented candles scattered across the counters, island top, and table. Surrounding those were red smatterings of rose petals, carefully and artfully clumped together atop every available surface; these lent a heady sort of scent to the room, but not an overwhelming one. On the table, placed at the center of the candles and roses, was one large, white box, the kind which unmistakably held a pizza within its confines, and beside that rested two of Tony’s crystal glasses, a bottle of rosé, and a rather large heart shaped box.

Seated just in front of all of this was Bucky Barnes himself, looking obscenely handsome in a wine red button down. His eyes shone through the dimness of the room, the blue of his irises calling to you and making your heart pound with giddiness and unsureness. You weren’t privy to what was going on in this instance, but the soft side of you couldn’t help but feel some form of excitement.

It would appear that you had read the situation incorrectly.

“Hey,” Bucky called once he caught sight of you, standing from where he sat at the table and taking a step forward. He really was dressed handsomely; you wished you had thought to change out of your jeans and tee, but Jarvis hadn’t exactly prepared you for what kind of dinner you would be attending. “It’s... nice to see you.”

“Thanks,” you replied, stupidly. Thanks? That wasn’t a proper response here, was it? Why were you feeling so disarmed? When had Bucky gained this much power over you? “Whats, um, what’s all this?”

Bucky stepped towards you, offering you a gentle, hesitant smile; he was just as out of his element here as you were, it seemed. He took your hand and led you over to the table, and you were so shocked at the fact the he was holding it, touching you, that your powers didn’t even have the chance to kick in before you were sitting down and he was already letting go. “This is me apologizing,” he explained softly, his wide blue eyes effectively pinning you in your seat. “I’ve been... sort of a dick, I think, these last few weeks, and it’s been really unfair to you. And I think... if you’ll let me, after we’ve eaten and all of that... I think I’d like to explain myself.”

All you could do was nod, your feelings of reservation and hesitation completely forgotten once you caught sight of the soft, sweet as sugar smile he gave you. “Yeah, okay,” you told him, smiling gently and scooting your chair closer to the table, doing your best to keep your arm from brushing his. In an attempt to be playful, you went on to say, “I think you could benefit from the pizza more than I could, though. It’s heart shaped so maybe it’ll help you grow that thing that seems to be missing from your chest.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Bucky responded, not even missing a beat. “Having Jarvis invite you for dinner was just a formality. I’m one hundred percent planning to eat this entire pizza myself.”

And maybe it was just that the two of you hadn't spoken like that to one another in a long time, but you found your chest was getting tight and your stomach warm.

It had been deceptively easy, falling back into normalcy with Bucky. Once you let go of the worry and the hesitation, once you forgot about how worried you had been that you had upset him the night of the party, being friendly with Bucky came naturally to you; these weeks of isolation had made you forget what it was like to be friends with him.

“You might wanna slow down with that,” he laughed as you raised your second glass of wine to your lips. You paused, arching an eyebrow in an effort to ask for an explanation. “You sure it’s a good idea for you to drink so much after what happened on New Year’s Eve?”

That was a challenge if you’d ever hear one, and you couldn’t just let that slide. Wordlessly, you tipped your head back and parted your lips, chugging the entire glass of rosé in under fifteen seconds. Setting the glass down on the table, you wordlessly poured yourself more before grabbing another slice of the pizza and eating it.

Bucky remained silent a moment before your powers, muted due to your alcohol intake, told you he was impressed and captivated. The physical auras were coming out to play once more due to the buzz the rosé had given you, and Bucky was beginning to take on a faint turquoise tinge around the edges of his body; the color of content and serenity. “You’re incredible,” he mumbled after a few moments, more to himself than to you.

“And don’t you forget it,” you teased, grasping your cup and moving to drink from it once more. You had to pause once you caught sight of your own hand; your arm was outlined in that same vibrant, purplish blue it had been the morning of New Year’s, when you’d woken up to an awful hangover in Bucky’s embrace. The fact that it was showing up again meant that it hadn’t been a defect in your power that day; this was your aura, presented to you as Bucky saw it, and it was unmistakably and undeniably a wonderful royal blue. Seeing that color stole your breath away, and Bucky didn’t miss the little hitch in your throat as you set your glass down on the table.

“What’s that?” he murmured, tilting his head in curiosity. His hand, the metal one, reached up to brush a strand of your hair back from your face, and that only served to cause your breath to hitch further.

“Nothing, I just...” You inhaled deeply, looking into Bucky’s eyes in search of courage. He’d mentioned earlier that this whole dinner date had been about him wanting to apologize, and that he wanted to explain himself for his behavior these past few weeks, but he wasn’t the one who needed to apologize, here. Bucky Barnes was sitting here and coloring you blue, and it was all because you had mistakenly and drunkenly projected your romantic feelings into him. He thought he liked you, because you’d allowed him to feel what you did when you kissed him that night, and that just wasn’t fair at all. You needed to explain to him. “I just... need to explain myself and tell you I’m sorry, and I need to do it before the alcohol wears off, because otherwise I’m going to be too afraid.”

Bucky only looked at you in surprise. “What do you have to be sorry for?” he asked, looking for all the world like there was nothing you could have done that would warrant an apology.

“I remembered,” you began, your voice hardly above a whisper. You knew Bucky could hear you, though, if his intense gaze was anything to go by. “I remembered what you were angry with me about. I kissed you that night, in my room. On New Year’s Eve. I kissed you and I couldn’t remember, and you had to sort through those feelings all alone.” It broke your heart to think about it now; poor Bucky had spent decades having feelings that weren’t his own dropped into his head against his will. You hated to think that you’d contributed to that in any sort of way. “And I’m really, really sorry about it. I know my feelings for you put you in an awkward position and I just... you don’t have to worry about me behaving unprofessionally or anything. I can control myself.”

Bucky blinked. Then again. Then a third time, and this one was accompanied by a booming laugh, one which caught you off guard and brought a blush to your cheeks. “You’ve got this all wrong,” he murmured, shaking his head. He brought his right hand up, fingertips caressing the side of your neck. At this you stiffened, warmth blooming through your chest like you’d never felt it before. You couldn’t get your hopes up here, and you knew that, but god damn if his tone of voice wasn’t temptation personified. “That’s not what I—“

“No, really,” you interrupted him, scrunching your eyes shut in an effort to evade tears of embarrassment springing up to the surface. Your state of tipsiness had you especially emotional at the moment, and you had no way of accessing your power for assistance in calming down. That would take much more concentration than you currently possessed, what with Bucky’s fingers dancing along your skin and all. “I’m sorry for putting you in an awkward position—“

“Y/n,” Bucky stopped you, tone commanding you to let your eyes slip back open. You saw humor dancing distantly within his pupils, teasing you more and more with every second that passed. You were frozen in place, powerless to do anything as the man before you brought both his hands up to cradle your face. Some stupid voice in the back of your head couldn’t help but point out that, if Wanda were present, she would be losing her shit at the sight of this. “Would you let me talk, please? I’m the one who should apologize, for making you think that...” His voice trailed off in frustration, and you recognized the expression on his face. It was the same one he got during your therapy sessions, when you requested him to voice his emotions and he couldn’t find the words to do so. Because of this, you weren’t surprised when he cupped your face a bit tighter, and softly urged, “Look just concentrate, okay? Tell me what you feel.”

You did what he asked, powerless to spare it a second thought. Taking a breath and drinking in the sight of his face, you waited for the auras to disappear from your sight and watched as everything faded away to black.

Well, only for a second, really. In the next moment, your mind was exploding with input. Your chest swelled with tenderness and a quick heartbeat while simultaneously seeming to constrict with giddiness. You... you couldn't explain it, but everything you were feeling seemed to be colored with a lilac you had never dreamt of. Your palms were sweaty, your chest was warm, your toes were curling, and everything was suddenly so bright. You couldn't move, really; all you could do was feel the overwhelming amount of love coarse through your body. You could see yourself, several different versions, though even the darkest one had a deep and vibrant bluish glow around her.

This was you as Bucky saw you; the tint of your aura didn’t do it justice.

“This is... this is for me?” you breathed, letting your eyes readjust and taking in Bucky’s expression with a new vision. That hadn’t been hesitation you had seen in his gaze, but giddiness to share his fondness, excitement to express his feelings to you. “That’s... that’s really how you feel?”

“For someone whose power it is to literally be able to read emotions,” Bucky chuckled gently, shaking his head to himself and eyes shining, “you are surprisingly bad at it.” And he kissed you without another word, surging forward and pressing his lips to yours with as much passion as was possible.

He kissed you as though his life depended on it; Bucky kissed you eagerly, deeply, letting his tongue explore freely and greedily. You could feel the excitement rush off him, the pure and unadulterated attraction and lust. While he kissed you, his hands roamed your body, pushing and smoothing and feeling. He was getting dangerously close to your hips and to the top of the waistband of your jeans. It wasn't his goal to take it that far unless you wanted to, you could feel, and he was by no means trying to push it.

You kissed him back, powerless to do anything but give in to your own selfish desires. And once you kissed him, you found that you never wanted to stop, never wanted to kiss anyone else. It shocked you, how desperate and hungry it seemed to be, how desperate and hungry you seemed to be. It was scary, but also thrilling, and you decided to ultimately ignore the uncertainty of it. Instead you held him tighter, lacing your fingers through his hair and continuing to move your lips with his. This was fire, bliss, pure and concentrated attraction. Whether it was coming from you or him you couldn’t tell, and you didn’t care to. What was the point in differentiating when you were both so clearly invested in this?

After a few moments you had to break it, leaning back in order to catch the breath you were out of.

“You taste like chocolate,” Bucky chuckled, eyes crinkling as he smiled. “Chocolate and wine.”

“I didn’t... I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this before,” you whispered, giddiness lacing your every word. If his hands weren’t still touching you, having slid down to settle at your waste during that kiss, you might have convinced yourself that you’d been dreaming this whole thing.

Letting himself act freely, Bucky pushed forward to press his lips against your cheek, and you weren’t too sure what was happening, but you were sure that you never wanted it to stop. “What do you mean?"

"It's... hard to put into words," you breathed. “I can see myself, the way you see me. I'm surrounded by light. And then... it's like, my name in your head? Certain colors and temperatures are tied to it. Everything about my name is so warm." Your hands seemed to absentmindedly creep away from your sides and up his, coming to rest against his chest, causing a spike of deep red in his aura. Your eyes widened at what you saw, disbelief arising. "I’m sorry about that,” you whispered, looking him in the eyes.

"Don't be," Bucky rasped, breath growing heavy. It had been awhile since he had come near you, and the two of you had never had physical contact on this level before. Understandably, as this was the first time, you were bound to have somewhat of a strong affect on his emotions, amongst other things. He eyed you intently, let one of his hands snake around to the small of your back, and when he opened his mouth to ask you his next question, your heart burst with an overwhelming amount of emotion. "Just... can I, can I kiss you again? Please? I just want to kiss you."

You let him, of course, and he appeared to be grateful to you for it. He moved slowly, paid attention, did his best to only give you exactly what you might want, and Jesus Christ was Bucky doing a damn good job. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been kissed like this, or if you ever even had been, but the information was irrelevant because it was happening now and it felt amazing.

And to think you’d spent all those weeks worrying about Bucky hating your guts when really... really, he just hadn’t been sure how to articulate his feelings. Now that you felt the magnitude of them, you didn’t blame him, either; those feelings were complex, deeply seated, heavy. The type of thing only someone like Bucky, someone who had never been allowed to express genuinely and freely, could feel.

Bucky kissed you harder and you kissed him right back, the motions and actions only getting deeper and more sincere as the two of you went back and forth, tongues dancing and hands roaming. With each new caress came a new spike of feeling; your power was out of your control, your state of intoxication selecting input for you to process at random, but you didn’t care — it was all the same anyway, just a tremendously large flood of happiness and emotion. The sheer weight of it all was making you borderline manic, and you were dancing along the fine line of getting lost in the pull of it.

You pulled away, once again out of breath, and as you gasped for air Bucky wrapped his arms around you, standing and effortlessly lifting you from your chair and depositing you on the table. He stood between your legs and you reflexively wrapped them around his waste as he placed his hands down on either side of you and bent his neck, allowing his mouth access to your throat and nipping gently at the soft, sensitive skin he found. This succeeded in pulling an obscene moan from deep within you, your breath quickening and your hands pulling harder at his hair.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner,” Bucky murmured as his lips trailed your skin. He surged up to press a kiss to your temple, then began working his way down. Your ear, your cheek, your jaw. He paused at your throat, nipping the skin twice more and winning a gasp from you each time. “I like that sound,” he laughed, repeating his motions and smiling against your skin when he achieved the same result. “That’s one I could get used to.” He didn’t wait for you to respond as his lips began to dip further, dotting across your collarbone and his tongue skimming along as he made his way to your chest. There, he paused, and looked up to you with patience and wonder. “Is this okay, Y/n? Do you... do you want this? It’s okay?”

“More than okay,” you breathed, and that was all he needed to hear before his hands made quick work of pulling your shirt up and off your body, leaving you in a simple black bra. You sort of wished you had deigned to put on something a bit lacier that morning, but Bucky didn’t seem to care. He was marveling at the sight of you all the same.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he rasped, lips finding their way to your neck once more. The way he said it made it clear that your powers had let him in on your previous thought. “God damn gorgeous, you hear me? It’s borderline unfair.”

“You’re just saying that,” you teased, closing your eyes and relishing the feel of his body against yours. Fuck, this was... you had given a great deal of thought to what this might feel like, if you were being honest, and the reality hadn’t disappointed you one bit.

“Like hell I am,” Bucky growled, and the very sound of it made your stomach drop in anticipation.

The two of you kept at it, Bucky alternating between coming up to kiss your lips and surging back down to skin his mouth along your exposed skin. Each time he did so he got closer and closer to the cups of your bra, tongue tracing patterns over the skin of your chest as he teased you along. You weren’t too sure how long he’d been at it, but it was getting to the point where you were about ready to take the damn thing off yourself so that your actions could finally progress. You wanted it, him, and badly, and you knew that he could feel the desire rolling off you. He was reciprocating; the lavender light swathing your surroundings each time you opened your eyes told you as much.

Just as his hands had creeped their way back to finally, finally, fiddle with the clasp of your bra, your eyes shut tightly as you anticipated the feel of his mouth against your breast, your eyes popped open, brow furrowing in confusion. Was that... was that smoke? Was something smoking? Sure enough, just as the clasps of your bra had come undone, you turned your neck to survey the kitchen, Bucky’s dark hair shining in the light below your chin, and caught sight of the table a few feet away, curls of smoke rising up into the air. One of the candles had been overturned, some rose petals and the table cloth having caught the flame which extended out of the glass. The two of you just have knocked it over when Bucky had placed you atop the table.

“Buck,” you gasped, your body reacting and tensing as his fingers attempted to slide the straps of your bra down your arms. “We’re... there’s a fire.”

“Yeah, darlin’,” he murmured, softly pressing his mouth to your collarbone once more. “I can feel it too.”

You wanted to laugh at how fucking corny that was, but your sense of urgency wouldn’t allow it. This was kind of a serious situation. “No, I mean— there’s a— Bucky stop kissing me, there’s a literal fucking fire!”

Bucky pulled back from you, brows furrowed, and turned his head to—

“What the fuck are you guys doing?” a loud voice echoed through the kitchen, startling a small scream of surprise out of you. In the doorway of the kitchen stood Steve, dressed handsomely, with a scandalized and horrified expression plastered over his features. “On the kitchen table? Seriously? We fucking eat there!”

“You said a grand gesture,” Bucky argued, pointing an accusatory finger Steve’s way. You clutched at your bra as the straps slid further down your arms, suddenly very conscious if the fact that Bucky was no longer shielding you from your two friends’ view. “It wouldn’t have been as impressive if I had asked her to hang out in my room!”

“Oh my god,” Wanda cried, a bright look of glee consuming her face. “Oh my god, oh my god, I fucking— I knew it, this is the best Valentine’s Day ever.”

You raised your voice in an effort to get all of their attention, disbelief flooding your system in the place of your embarrassment. “Okay, guys— there’s a literal fucking fire on the table, we can’t just ignore—“

“Fire detected,” Jarvis’s voice echoed through the room, momentarily drawing everyone’s gazes to the ceiling. “Activating sprinkler system.”

“Wait, no—“ Bucky tried, but it was already too late. A shower of water had begun to rain down on the four of you, immediately drenching you all, and you were unable to help your resulting shout at the shock of the cold.

Well, at least the fire had been taken care of.

“Ignore us,” Wanda insisted, grabbing Steve’s hand and shooting you a not so subtle thumbs up as she began to tug him back towards the doorway. God help you if she didn’t look like an only child who had just woken up on Christmas morning. “Pretend like we were never here, okay? We’re very happy for the both of you and all the table sex you’re about to have, isn’t that right Steve?”

Steve continued to stare incredulously, shaking his head but allowing Wanda to tug him back out of the room. “The kitchen table,” you heard him mutter as he went, “the fucking kitchen table.” Then it was silent, and you and Bucky were alone once more, the sprinklers running for thirty more seconds before dying down and leaving the two of you in s very damp, very disoriented silence.

Bucky looked at you.

You looked at Bucky.

The both of you broke into fits of laughter, the sort that racked your entire body with uncontrollable shaking.

“Happy Valentine’s Day to us,” you gasped in between fits of laughter, “I almost... Jesus Christ, I almost fucking flashed them.”

“We set the table on fire,” Bucky guffawed, his forehead coming down to rest against yours. “And I... oh my god, I thought you were talking about some kind of metaphor.”

“Wanda told us... to have... table sex,” you wheezed, shaking your head and absentmindedly pressing a peck to Bucky’s lips. It was considerably chaste, compared to what the two of you had previously been getting up to, but the magnitude of both your feelings was still accessible behind it. That, if nothing else, told you that everything expressed here, tonight... it had all been sincere.

Bucky reached around you and grasped the clasps of your bra, re-hooking them and sliding the straps back up your shoulders. “I meant what I said,” he told you, his soft, reassuring smile making your heart swell. “I meant all of it. You know that, right?”

“I do,” you affirmed, giving a small nod and a shrug of your shoulder. “And I’m sorry—“

“No,” Bucky interrupted you, grabbing your hand and helping you down from the table. He walked a couple feet away and picked up your shirt, now soaked through with water, from where he had tossed it. He waited while you tugged the hung over your head, the fabric immediately sticking to your body, before continuing. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have... I shouldn’t have shut you out, the way I did. I’m not perfect, but I’m learning, and it’s not coming as easy as I would like for it to.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, reaching down to grasp his hand. It was impossibly warm, despite the torrential downpour Jarvis had just released on the kitchen. “I understand. You don’t ever have to worry about me not understanding. But, for now...” You glanced around the kitchen, the sight of the burnt table cloth and rose petals urging another laugh to bubble out of you. Along with the now overturned glasses of wine and the fact that everything in this room was soaked with water, it looked like a hurricane had rolled through the tower’s kitchen. Now there was a metaphor. “I’m really tired. Walk me to my room?”

Bucky smiled softly, leaning down to press his lips to your forehead. “Of course.” He looked nervous as he added, “Do you... maybe we could try this again sometime? Without the sprinklers and the fire and Steve and Wanda walking in on us?”

You smiled brightly, noticing subconsciously that now not only was your aura that certain shade of royal blue, but his was as well.

You matched.

“I would really, really like that,” you mumbled.

—

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