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#mind up on it. and he’s like you really don’t get it! blah blah whatever they kiss and make up and shit idrc

bookshelf-dust · 1 year

Text

all the time

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 7,206

warnings: swearing, brief mentions of alcohol, family drama, best friends to lovers type beat (lemme know if i missed anything, as always)

a/n: this got pretty long, and i’m sorry about that. i put a steve option in my 1k celebration poll, and i haven’t been able to get over it, so that’s what this is. i thought i could try it out. i haven’t really had this much fun with a fic in a long time. i know my steve audience isn’t as big, but i guess there’s a chance someone might like it.

————

The crumbs from your crackers drop into your lap, the crease of your book catching them. You set your spoon back down, flipping the hardback over to ensure no crumb will be left lingering in between the pages.

You’re curled into the end chair at the table, just as always, legs crossed and book nestled against your bare legs. Your parents sit across from each other, talking about whatever, but you aren’t listening.

You dunk a cracker in your soup, holding it there for a moment to let it soak up the broth, before tossing it into your mouth. You continue on this way—alternating between scooping up noodles or chicken and drowning saltines—until you have nothing left but the dregs in your bowl.

You mark the page in your book, tuck it under your thigh. You’re tipping the bowl backwards, drinking the rest of the soup, when your mother says your name loudly enough to tear you from your stupor.

You swallow and wipe your mouth haphazardly with a napkin. “What?”

“Your father and I were just talking about your sister’s wedding.”

You raise your eyebrows, wondering if she’s actually being serious.

“No shit.”

Your father sets his cup down, glaring at you. “Language.”

“Sorry,” you say, though there’s no real meaning in the word.

Your sister has told practically every goddamn person in Hawkins that she’s getting married at the end of the month. Everyone is talking about her wedding. A wedding that you don’t give one singular fuck about.

She’s marrying her high school sweetheart, they’re moving into a sweet new house in the suburbs, blah blah blah. She’s doing the same shit every other peaked-in-high-school woman her age is doing. And you can’t be bothered to care.

Not only that, but you have to be a bridesmaid. You’re not very close with your sister, so her choosing another friend as her maid of honor really didn’t hurt you. Frankly, you would’ve been fine if she’d left you out of the bridal party completely.

None of this is really as spectacular as everyone’s made it out to be.

“Anyhow,” your mother begins, “you know she’s allowing her guests to bring a plus one.” She pauses, and you raise your eyebrows again, not understanding the need for dramatics here.

“Well, she asked if you were going to bring someone, and I told her that you were.”

You push back from the table, entirely too confused. “What?”

“Honey, don’t get so frantic. I didn’t think you would want to be alone, especially considering your attitude towards the entire function.”

You take a deep breath, pressing your fingers into your eyelids.

“I thought you could bring that boyfriend of yours. Actually, that’s what I told her. She’s already put in the name for a place card.”

“Mom, are you out of your mind?”

She gasps, taking a sip of her wine to gather herself. Your father chooses this moment to begin clearing up the table.

“I don’t have a boyfriend!” you exclaim.

Her eyes widen. ��What do you mean? I told her you’d bring that boy, Steve. You spend an awful lot of time with him for him to not be your boyfriend.”

You feel like you’re choking on air. Like your dinner is going to come up if she doesn’t cut this out. “That’s because he’s my friend!”

“You’re always with him, sweetie. Much more than I ever was with any of my male friends.” She clearly doesn’t believe that he’s not your boyfriend. Like it’s impossible that he isn’t.

You shove past her and into the kitchen, utterly exasperated. Why are people making decisions for you? Why is your mother suddenly proclaiming to everyone that you’re in a relationship you didn’t even know you were in?

When you turn around from facing the sink, both of your parents are staring at you. “What now? Something else you’ve told the whole damn town about me?”

Your mother reaches out to you, but you brush her off. You’re a little too pissed for any sort of cooing right now.

“I’m sorry I assumed he was your boyfriend, honey. But you have to bring him, or else the family will ask questions and there will be an empty space next to you. Personally, I’d find that embarrassing.”

You push your way out of the kitchen, more than done with this situation. “You’ll be lucky if I even go to the damn wedding. And, personally, I wouldn’t go blabbing about things I’ve just assumed about my own daughter rather than just talking about them with her.”

When you turn down the hall, your father is rubbing his forehead, and your mother is looking at you like you should be grateful for her having assured you have company for the big event.

“This could be good for you!” she shouts, and your only response is the slam of your bedroom door.

In hindsight, of course the slam was childish, but you really can’t believe your mother.

You’ve never been so frustrated with her in your life. And yeah, you’ll go to the wedding, but what gave her the right to do that? This is your life. Not hers.

Normally, you would call Steve about something like this, but shit, you can’t.

Steve. As your boyfriend?

That’s too much for your brain to handle right now. You throw yourself on the bed and call it a night.

————

“So, let me get this straight,” Robin begins, holding up her hands so as to count off your main points. “Your mother just told everyone that you have a boyfriend, that this boyfriend is Steve, of all people, and that he’s your plus one to your bitchy sister’s wedding?”

The countertop is cold when you press your forehead against it. “Yes,” you whine.

You’d gotten up first thing this morning and head to Family Video, needing to spill your guts to the one and only person who would surely match your energy and try to help you handle the situation.

Your arms are laid out in front of you, hands dangling over the edge of the counter and reaching for Robin on the other side. She grabs hold of them and squeezes. “That’s one hell of a pickle you’re in. But! Lucky for you, I’m gonna help you figure it out.”

You squeeze her hands back, only to jerk your head up at an alarmingly fast rate. Robin cringes like you’re going to give yourself whiplash. You’ve just had an absolutely terrifying thought.

“Steve’s not working today, is he?”

Robin tries to think off the top of her head, but there are too many thoughts rambling around in there, so she’s quick to consult the schedule pinned to the wall behind her. She probably could’ve told you the times of each of his shifts if only you hadn’t asked.

“He won’t come in until this afternoon. Three-thirty, to be exact.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “Thank fuck. I’m not ready to see him yet. He’s going to notice something’s wrong and then he’ll want to talk about it and then it’ll just be a big fat shit show.”

Robin props her chin up with her hand, elbow resting against the green countertop. “You know, maybe that’s a good thing. He already knows you so well that he’ll probably make a great boyfriend.”

“Robin, what?”

She’s plotting and you’ve never felt more afraid.

“Well, you can’t just not take him to the wedding after all of this, right? It would be ten times messier now that your mom has told all of Hawkins that Steve Harrington is your boyfriend. And you know he’ll agree to go, being ‘Mr. Nice Guy’ and whatnot. Besides, you’ve gotta admit that there’s chemistry between the two of you.”

You go to speak, but she holds a hand up to stop you.

“So you tell him about your little predicament, and maybe he can just act as your boyfriend for the night?” She smiles nervously, shoulders rising in slight fear of your reaction. “You two are best friends, no one’s bound to be the wiser.”

“Robin, are you suggesting that I just fake-date the man?”

She raises her hands in a don’t-shoot-the-messenger gesture. “What’s the harm in it? It’s just a one time thing. You go, you get it over with, and Steve will be there the whole time. It’ll be totally fine.”

You drag your hands down your face, peeking at her through your fingers. This is insane. This is fucking delusional. But it could work, couldn’t it?

A customer comes in, and you step to the side while Robin helps them at the counter. Chemistry? Maybe Robin’s right. Not that you’d ever tell her that.

Last Valentine’s, Steve showed up at your place after dark, flowers in hand, knowing full well that you hate the holiday. “I just wanted you to feel special,” he’d said. “And I love you and everything.” You’ve been saying that to each other for forever it seems. And you mean it. He’s your best friend. But now you’re wondering if maybe he means it in a different way. Or if that’s just what you want to think.

Steve doesn’t know that you pressed a few of the flowers to keep, or that you’ve saved the stubs from the movies you’ve seen together. You think about how he holds your hand on the way up the theater stairs, keeping you from tripping and spilling popcorn everywhere. How he offers to go out with you when you need to be away from home, not wanting to leave you alone. That he takes your bag from you the second he notices you adjusting it, straps digging into your shoulder.

Your hands start to sweat, and you feel like this could either go just as Robin’s told you, or it could go really fucking badly.

“Hello? Anyone home?” Robin’s voice breaks you out of your stupor. She’s waving her hand in front of your face.

“Listen honey, I can see your brain working from here. I know you’re coming up with every possible way that this could go wrong. Just talk to him! It might go really well. You never know.”

Robin boops you on the nose and starts to walk towards the staff room. It’s her way of signaling that you need to get your shit together.

“Good luck! I love you!”

You grab your keys and make for the door, flipping her off as you go. She only blows a kiss in response.

————

You’d been pacing your room when Steve called and offered to take you to the bookstore. Really he just wanted to spend time with you, and you needed to spill your guts. You spent an hour contemplating calling him, going over to see him, maybe even just cutting yourself off from him as a whole. In fact, cutting yourself off from the world had crossed your mind, but he’d since prevented that.

Now Steve hovers behind you while you wander down an aisle filled with mystery novels. None of them are catching your eye.

There’s a warmth behind you, and you look up to see Steve. He reaches above your head, one hand on your waist, and pulls something down. He flips it around in his hands before holding it out to you. “What about this one?”

Surprisingly enough it does sound vaguely interesting. “You have to read it after I do.”

He grins. “Yes ma'am.”

And we will read it. You know that he will because he’s done it before. He’s sat on your couch and blabbed about books to you, whining about this character, asking you a question about that plotline. Robin’s voice chirps in your head. Chemistry. Shit.

Steve takes the book back from you. He never lets you carry anything.

You walk further into the store, your feet carrying you to the same places they always do. You end up in a quiet corner, and your heart rate picks up. Not telling him is only hurting you more. You take a deep breath.

“Steve, I gotta tell you something.”

He crosses his arms and leans against the end cap. “Shoot.”

“You know how my sister is getting married?”

He snorts. “Yeah, I’d say I’m familiar with the event.”

You’d smile if it weren’t for the fact that you feel like you might puke at any moment. “Well she decided that guests could have a plus one.” Steve hates the way he warms up at that. At the fact that he wants you to take him. He nods, encouraging you to continue.

“Well my mother decided to tell everyone that I’d bring you. As my boyfriend.”

Steve coughs, and your head jerks in his direction. “Your boyfriend?”

You press your hands together. “Yeah. She said she assumed that we were dating because we’re always together, and when my sister asked if I’d be bringing someone, she just told her that it would be you.”

You make eye contact with Steve. His cheeks have gone red. “So naturally, she’s already had your nameplate printed. And now, what I’m saying is that I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend and go to my sister’s wedding with me.” The last part spills out of your mouth faster than you’d intended.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you start to panic. It’s as if you’ve been sent into overdrive, like every sense in your body is on high alert. If this goes wrong, Robin’s ass is grass.

You back into the corner of the aisle, book spines pressing into your back. “I realize I said I need you to do this, but I should have prefaced it by saying that of course you don’t have to, and I don’t expect you to–”

“I’ll do it.”

Steve pushes his hair back from his forehead.

“What?”

“I said I’ll do it. I don’t mind.”

“Steve, are you sure?”

He’s moving into your personal space bubble, hands grasping for your arms where you’ve tucked them behind your back. He pulls them out, hands sliding down your forearms until he’s got your hands in his. His palms are warm, and you can’t help but notice how big his hands are. There’s a ring on his pinky finger too, and it takes you by surprise, considering he’s not usually one for jewelry. You’ll have to ask him about it later, assuming you survive this.

“I’m sure. I’m not just going to let you show up after your mom did all that shit. She’s more trouble than she’s worth, if you ask me. But I promise, I don’t mind. I’ll go and be your boyfriend. I don’t know how good I’ll be, but hey…we’ll see.”

You pull your hand away to smack him on the arm. He winces like you’ve brutally wounded him.

“Don’t you dare say that, Steven. You’d make an excellent fake boyfriend. And a kickass real one. Don’t let me hear that shit again.”

You let go of him and start to walk away.

Steve chuckles. “Or what?”

“Or I’ll beat your ass, Harrington. And you’d definitely lose that one.”

He catches up to you and his hands find your waist again, though he struggles to hold on when you’re continually moving.

“Hey,” he pouts, his bottom lip jutting out at you. “Not fair.”

You look back up at him and reach up to pat his cheek. It’s warmer than you’d expected, and still all rosy. “Sorry, sorry.”

“That’s not very nice of a fake girlfriend.”

You snort. “Ha! I guess my fake girlfriend skills aren’t up to the great Steve Harrington’s standards.”

“You’re being so mean to me today.” He rests his chin on your shoulder while you pick through a sale pile.

“Only yanking your chain, dearest.”

He chuckles, and you can feel his breath against your neck.

You start to wonder if maybe everyone has a point. You do spend the majority of your time with Steve, and you are touchy, but that’s just the kind of person Steve is. You hadn’t realized how much you enjoyed physical touch from another person, even when it’s the most mundane action, until him. Robin is the same way, always holding your hands or leaning on you. They’re spoiling you.

But the more you think about it, the more you realize that you’ve started to crave Steve’s touch when he’s not around. At night when you feel lonely, when you’re staring at the ceiling and letting your thoughts engulf you, you wish he was there to give you a hug. You wish he was there when you’re eating lunch alone and his leg isn’t pressed against yours under the table. You miss the warmth and the weight of him beside you on the couch. It’s like there’s a part of your brain that’s reserved for him, and suddenly you’re worried that this fake dating Steve thing might be the worst decision you’ve ever made.

————

“Is this really necessary?”

“Yes, and I’m going to leave this with you until the masquerade is complete so that both of you morons have a reminder of your agreement.”

Robin sits on Steve’s couch, white board in hand. She’s brought way too many markers with her. She decided it would be best if you and Steve had a list of things that are acceptable for your temporary fake romance. She also insisted she be moderator.

“Masquerade? Is that really what we’re calling this?” Steve looks at you.

“No. It’s not.”

“Both of you! Focus!” Robin uncaps a marker and throws the lid at Steve. He catches it. “Now, what kinds of things are okay to do during this little performance? I’m talking, hugging, handholding, kissing, the lot of it. Now shoot.”

Steve looks at you again. “What do you think? This is your family that we’ll be around.”

Your knee starts to bounce.

The majority of your little charade will be during the reception, and having to stand during the ceremony is saving you much more trouble than you’d realized. You never thought you’d be grateful to be a bridesmaid. But now there’s the added pressure of knowing Steve will be watching you then, that your family will be watching the both of you afterwards.

Steve catches your shaking leg and is quick to put a hand out to steady you. He knows you’re nervous.

“See? That’s good. Believable.” Robin is staring at the two of you, or more specifically, at where Steve’s hand rests on your knee.

Steve pulls his hand back. “Okay, so we can hold hands?” you say, questioning yourself already. “You can touch me, like that or like you usually do.”

“I can do that. Hands, arms, back. That alright?”

You start to warm up. “Yeah, that works. What about you? I don’t want to be too handsy or anything but it might be weird if I don’t touch you at all.”

Steve sits back in his chair while Robin scribbles away, her bulletpoints little stars. There are two sides, one for each of you.

“All of that is fine with me too. I really don’t mind, and I think you know I like physical affection. But you know when you like, hang on my arm sometimes? I really like that.”

Robin smiles brilliantly. “That’s good! Makes you look super lovey-dovey.” She jots it down under Steve’s name.

You try not to let it show, but Steve’s words are running rampant in your head. I really like that. He does? You hadn’t realized it before.

“What else?” Robin asks. “Kissing? How do we feel about that?”

“Uh—I hadn’t really thought about it,” you tell her. And you hadn’t. The thought of Steve kissing you at all, other than the top of your head like he’s done before, makes you feel like your heart has just dropped out of your ass. “But I suppose it’d be weird if we didn’t at all, you know?”

You’re looking at Steve, hoping he’ll feel the same way, searching for some sort of consolation.

“No, yeah, that’s a good point.” He’s quiet for a moment before continuing, “What about your cheeks and forehead and stuff? Maybe the face is fair game? And you can do the same for me.”

You wipe your palms across your thighs. Kissing Steve. Steve kissing you. You’re losing your shit.

“Yeah, that’s totally fine. That works.” You’re amazed that you’ve even managed to get the words out.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, you know?” Steve’s expression is soft. You know he’s being serious with you.

“I know. And I don’t want to make you feel that way either. I want this to be a perfectly comfortable evening.”

“And I’m sure it will be!” Robin claps her hands together, setting her board down against the couch cushions beside her.

She stands abruptly. “Basically you’re just behaving like you normally do, but with a little more hands-on action, you know?”

Steve quirks a brow, taking a furtive glance at you. “What do you mean, like we normally do?”

Robin moves towards her best friend and crouches, taking his hands in hers. “Uh…what are you doing?”

“Listen, little Stevie, you’re a touchy-feely kind of guy, and you’re always all over the lovely lady to our left. You can’t deny that.”

“I mean—yeah.”

Robin nods her head. Steve struggles to keep eye contact with her, knowing you’re watching the interaction.

“And you’ve rubbed off on her! She wasn’t really like this before you, Harrington.”

This time he jerks his head towards you. “Really?”

He’s thinking about your hugs, how you wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze. About how you always take his hand when he offers it, or how you'll toss a leg over his on the couch. Any other sort of behavior would feel strange.

You feel yourself go all warm. Feel your chest squeeze. You’re forgetting how to breathe. She’s completely right. Steve has brought out a side of you that you swore you didn’t have. The side that longs for affection. Maybe more.

You nod your head at him.

“Yeah,” Robin says, “Most I’d get out of her was some hand holding before you came around.”

She releases Steve from her grasp and rises once again.

“But my point is, you two are going to make a fantastic fake couple. And maybe even an excellent real one.”

Steve face palms. “Robin.”

“Sorry, sorry! Make sure to take pictures for me, alright? I’ll be so sad to miss this happening in person.”

Steve stands, grabbing Robin’s bag for her. “Yep. Alright. See you later, Rob.”

He looks at you with what you’re quite positive is fear in his eyes. He leads her to the door, and you can’t help but chuckle, even if you’re nervous as shit, as he reassures her that there will be pictures, and that you’ll tell her all about it.

————

“Just hang it up on the doorframe, and then you can hold stuff up to it.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

You sit cross legged in the center of Steve’s bed, watching him rummage through his closet. He’s going to knock your dress on the floor if he doesn’t quit his frenzy.

You’d told him it wasn’t necessary that he coordinate his outfit with yours, but he insisted, so you brought your dress over for him to see. Steve has a feeling that when he sees you in it he’s going to lose his shit, not that he can tell you that.

“You know, I never thought these would be useful. But I guess your asshole dad dragging you to business events pays off sometimes.”

Steve lifts a bunch of hangers from the rack and pulls them out of his closet, setting them on the bed beside you.

“Fancy,” you say, smirking.

He rubs his hand over his chin, the other braced against his hip. “Yeah.”

You can tell he’s a little frazzled at this. The reminder of dressing himself up to be paraded around by his father—a father who doesn’t spare Steve a second when not in the public eye.

You hate that you’ve made him dig up all these memories.

“They all fit okay?” you question.

He nods, that one insistent lock of hair slipping free. He pushes it back before you have the chance to.

You slide off the side of the bed and stand. You gesture for him to sit and that gets a smile out of him.

After he’s settled, you lift each suit up one by one, seeing which matches the blue of your dress best. You’re only glad that your sister picked a nice shade: a dark, rich midnight blue. The kind you’d be able to spot from far off in a department store and need to take a look.

You get to a sort of soft gray one, and Steve stops you. You hook it up on the doorframe beside your dress.

“I think that looks nice, yeah?”

You walk backwards until your spine meets Steve’s knees. You brace yourself, hands on his calves. His chin meets the top of your head because of how high up the bed is.

“I like it a lot, Harrington.”

He snorts, and you can feel the puff of air against your scalp. He’s warm, his presence all around you. His cologne, maybe his shampoo if you let yourself fall in between his legs. But you don’t. You stand.

“Looks pretty solid to me,” you tell him, though your grin falters just slightly enough for him to catch it.

He puts a gentle hand on your cheek, making sure you keep your eyes locked on his.

“Hey. It’s gonna be great, okay? You’re going to kill it in that dress. Probably kill me, actually,” he laughs. “We’ll handle it together, alright?”

“Alright, Steven.” You’re trying not to over-analyze that comment. This is not the time to get sweaty.

He stands up, hand sliding down from your cheek to cover your collarbones. You wrap your arms around his back on instinct, and you swear you see him blush as he moves to encircle you in his own.

“Does being your fake boyfriend mean your incessant picking has only gotten worse?”

You rest your forehead against his chest. You can hear the steady thump of his heartbeat. You think about how nice it might be to do this all the time. What it might be like if he weren’t your fake boyfriend, but your real one.

“Mhm,” you mumble. “I plan on continuing it, too.”

Steve’s hands run up and down your back.

“I look forward to it,” he whispers. There’s a part of you that knows he means it.

————

Steve hasn’t stopped looking at you since you met him at the door to the wedding venue.

You’d run down, more than happy to have company that wasn’t your sister's bitchy bridal party.

He stands with you now, waiting until he’s allowed to take his seat, and you can feel his eyes burning into you.

Not that you’re any better than he is.

His suit fits him just right, and every time he pushes his hair around, you watch his shoulders move under his jacket. It’s driving you insane. And he’s wearing that fucking ring again. Except this time, there’s also one on the middle finger of his opposite hand.

The sun is hitting him just right, turning his eyes this amber color. It’s mesmerizing. You notice then that his tie is the same blue as your dress.

“Steve?”

“Hm?”

“Did you have that? Just lying around?”

He follows your gaze to his chest. No, he absolutely didn’t. He ran out and picked one up in a shade as close as he could get it to yours. Wearing something that felt like a piece of you had his mind abuzz. Abuzz with you.

It’s the same way he feels about these rings Robin bought him. She said you were into them, always talking about Steve’s hands or something. He’s started to like them, but really it’s for you. Most things are.

“Yeah. I found it in a drawer.”

Robin would slap him if she were here. He doesn’t know why he lies, but he does. And then you’re blushing and he’s got to sit down. He squeezes your hand one last time, an encouraging gesture, but one that has so much more buried beneath it.

The ceremony thankfully goes quickly for you, and you’re grateful, hating having to stand up there like you give a shit, like your sister is some saint.

For Steve, it’s the slowest wedding he’s ever been to. You look so fucking gorgeous and he can’t keep it together. He barely even pays attention to the wedding, too busy looking at you. The way your indifference shows on your face, even if you know you’ll hear about it later. The way your hands wrap around the little bouquet you’ve been given. The way the setting sun sets your skin alight, and he thinks that you might truly be the death of him.

When the ceremony has concluded, when Steve is looking for you in the reception hall, he realizes he has to tell you so. You deserve to know how gorgeous you are. He’s beating himself up for having said you looked ‘great,’ and that was all.

You spot him first, and rush to him like you had before, anxious to be near him.

“My mother is looking for me,” you tell him.

“You want to get some air?” His hand finds the small of your back, already leading you away from the crowd and just outside the doors.

“You’re such a good fake boyfriend.”

You suck in a breath of cool air, shake your hands out.

Steve smirks, hands moving up to massage at your shoulders before he even has a chance to give the action a second thought. “Just knew you’d like to get away is all.”

Knew.

The word hits you and you feel like you’ve been slapped. Goddammit, Robin. She’s been in your head all day, and you’ve done nothing but pick up on the little things Steve does for you, the things he seems to know about you, that make him so much more than just a best friend.

You’re fucked.

“Thank you, Steve. For that, and for coming to this. It means a lot to me.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’d do it again.”

He’s looking at you with such fondness, and you have a feeling he wants to say more. You grab hold of one of his wrists, locking your eyes with his in hopes that it will communicate the message. Go ahead.

He exhales. This sort of thing used to be so easy for him, but it’s never been that way with you. He knows it’s because you aren’t just some chick he wants to take out. You’re everything. And he’s fumbling for words.

“I, uh, I wanted to tell you that…” You squeeze his wrist, and he continues, albeit with a shaky voice. “I wanted to tell you that you look beautiful.”

A smile creeps up and onto your face before you can stop it.

“I mean, you always look beautiful, b-but tonight you’re just—stunning. Like, totally breathtaking. Don’t let anyone hear this, but I’d even say you look better than the bride.”

You let out a laugh then, the kind that comes straight from your belly, rich and sickly sweet. It makes Steve laugh, too. He can’t believe you. You’re unbelievable.

“Sorry, Steve, I just–fuck that was so funny.” You straighten up, putting your serious face back on. “Thank you for saying that. I really appreciate it.”

“I’m serious, you know. You’re gorgeous.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, lips warm and plush against your skin.

You go all warm and fuzzy inside. “Thank you, Stevie.”

He smacks another kiss to your cheek, just because he can.

“You look pretty too, you know.”

Steve blushes at your comment, and it’s at this very moment that your mother’s voice rings out, “Sweetie! Come in here, people want to see you!”

Fear flashes across your face, any trace of the sweet flirtiness there seconds before having vanished.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Steve says, watching you gesture towards your mother, telling her you’re on your way. “Let’s do this, yeah?”

You make eye contact with him, and he grabs hold of your hand, weaving his fingers between yours. “Yeah.”

————

“So, how’d the two of you meet?”

You’re surrounded by a crowd of women, some are your family–your mother and sister–some women you’re not even sure you know.

“School.” Steve saves you from having to speak first. “We went to high school together, but we met through a mutual friend.”

Your mother quirks a brow. “Robin,” you tell her.

“Oh! What a lovely young lady.”

Steve snorts and you slap him on the back. Not that anyone could’ve seen it with how close he’s got you pressed to his side. “Yep,” Steve coughs, “She’s great.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, hoping it’ll give him a moment to suppress his smile. Your sister steps away from her friends, catching the action.

“So, Steve, does she treat you okay? I know my sister can be a bit frantic sometimes.” You watch your mother down the rest of her wine, and you know she’s hoping nothing breaks out between the two of you like it has plenty of times before.

Steve’s arm wraps more firmly around you, his hand coming to rest on your hip. Everyone has their eyes locked on you, waiting, hoping that Steve will spill some sort of secret that they can spread throughout Hawkins like wildfire. Nothing beats good gossip around here.

He squeezes your hip, and for a split second you think the gesture might be possessive. Protective, even.

“She does. Your sister is considerate and thoughtful, and she’s the best woman I know. I’ve never felt more comfortable than I do with her. And if she’s ever frantic, it only helps her deal with me when I’m the same way.”

You feel like you could pass out. Because you know he meant every damn word of that. You know he isn’t lying.

Your sister looks between the two of you. “Well, I suppose that’s good to hear.” Her smile is nothing but insincere when she walks off to greet another wedding guest.

One of your aunts swoops in, and Steve feels you clutch his side a little harder. He has a feeling you’re about to be ridiculed.

“Such a lovely day, isn’t it? You two ever think about tying the knot?”

Steve pinks and your hand slips under his suit jacket, clutching at the fabric of his shirt instead. Is this really the time?

“No,” you pipe up. “I haven’t really given it much thought.”

The woman frowns at you. “Well, isn’t that silly? You better get around to it sooner than later, honey. Take after your big sister. You won’t be young forever.”

You go to speak, but Steve’s already begun. “I’m sorry, but she doesn’t have to get married on anyone else’s terms. Hell, she doesn’t have to get married at all, and I can say that in utmost confidence. Maybe back off, okay?”

Your aunt looks absolutely scandalized, as if she cannot bear to accept what just happened to her.

Steve starts to lead you away from the group. “Come on, baby.”

Baby.

Steve called you ‘baby.’

You don’t have time to analyze that though with the way he’s escorting you back outside. He parks you on a bench and starts to pace in front of you.

“I can see why you didn’t want to do this now. Jesus, are they always like that? I thought my dad’s colleagues were dicks, but my god.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Wait—can you call judgmental ladies dicks?”

You snort and bury your face in your hands. “Yes, Steve, I think so.” It comes out muffled, but he hears it all the same.

When you look up, Steve is staring at you, and he’s much closer than he had been. He starts to say something, but both your mother and sister have shown up, looking for you.

“Sweetie! What are you doing out here?” Your mother looks frazzled, and maybe a little tipsy. You knew your sister would be a bitch on her wedding day, but apparently your mother hadn’t yet realized.

“Escaping the mob.”

“Your aunt isn’t entirely pleased with your behavior, I’ve been told.”

You stand up then. “Honestly, mom, I don’t really give a shit. I came to this wedding, like you told me to. I brought, Steve, like you told me to. And I just don’t care anymore. I’m sick of your bullshit.”

She looks aghast, way more than your aunt had.

You look at your sister, who’s clearly hoping to see you fuck up.

“Congratulations on fucking yourself over. You’ll have a severely depressing marriage.”

“C’mon, Steve.”

He takes your hand, and he can’t help but giggle as he follows you out.

————

“Sweetheart? You comin’?”

You’ve stopped halfway up Steve’s stairs, a far off look in your eyes. He’d brought you back to his place to stay the night, and now that you’re here, it’s like every thought you’ve had about him is fit to burst. This cannot just be a tonight situation. You can’t let this end here.

You drop your dress where you’d been holding it up to prevent yourself from tripping.

“Maybe Robin’s right. About the chemistry.”

Steve’s hands go to his hips. He’s got no idea what you’re on about, but the way you’re looking at him is enough to have his heart rate kicking up a notch. “Chemistry?”

“Yeah. She pointed it out. And she said we’d make a fantastic couple, remember?”

He blushes. He hopes this is going where he thinks it is. Tonight has made him realize how much more you are to him than just a friend. He wants you all the time. “Yeah, I remember.”

Your heart is pounding and you feel like you can’t really breathe, but if you don’t say this now, you’re not sure you ever will.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?” He’s never been so stressed in his life. He’s actually starting to sweat.

You exhale and push the words out. “I don’t want you to be my fake boyfriend. I want you to be my real one.”

He coughs, chokes really, and you move up the stairs towards him to make sure he’s okay and not actually sick over the matter.

“Are you sure?” he asks, surprising himself with the ability to speak considering how raw his throat feels.

“Wouldn’t have said so if I felt otherwise, Harrington.”

There she is, he thinks. You really want him. Just like he does you. He can’t believe it.

“Again with the picking. You’re so mean to me.”

You smirk, your hands finding his sides again. You seem to have some attachment to them, and Steve wonders if it’s because you know there are scars underneath. If you’re telling him more than what you can bear to say. Giving him a glimpse of all you have to offer him, all the love you might hope to share.

“I’ll show you mean, you little shit.”

You press your lips against his before you can second guess yourself, before you let that little voice win.

Steve hums in surprise, but it’s clear he’s not upset by the gesture with the way he responds to your touch. His hands find your neck, thumbs stroking over your cheeks.

He’s kissing you back, and fuck if he’s not trying to tell you everything he’s been feeling.

When you pull away for air, Steve’s too greedy to let you go. He pecks your lips once, twice more, and when he really can’t breathe, he peppers your face instead. Now that you’ve given him the chance, he seriously can’t get enough of you.

“Damn.”

You laugh, and push that strand of hair back where it goes, this time getting to it before he can.

You take Steve’s wrist in your hand. It’s late. You hadn’t realized how worn out you were, but you are.

“Can we go to sleep?” you ask, searching his brown eyes. His lashes are unfairly long, but you’ll have to berate him about it later.

“Do I get another one of those before bed?” He’s already hauling you up the stairs, wanting you settled.

“If you’re good.”

————

“So when did it happen?” Robin’s voice is almost accusatory.

“What?”

You’re standing close enough to Steve to ensure that you can hear Robin on the other side.

“When did this love confession take place?”

“That’s not what it was—”

“Just tell me when, dingus!”

“Last night, after we got home. She told me she didn’t want it to be fake anymore.”

“Shit!”

Steve rolls his eyes. You fuss with the belt loops on his jeans, trying to figure out what she’s been up to. “What did you do?” he asks.

“I owe Dustin twenty.”

“You bet on us?” Your voice is loud enough that she hears it, and you know she’s cringing even if you can’t see it.

“Maybe? Yes. I bet that you’d give up the act later than that, that you two would be cowards about it. Figured you’d both wallow in self pity for a while before you just came out and said how you feel.”

Steve looks at you, and mouths: Are you hearing this?

Robin keeps going. “Dustin said you’d come to your senses quicker than that. He bet on the wedding day specifically. Goddamnit!”

You take the phone from Steve, and his forehead meets your shoulder. You can feel the way he shakes with laughter.

“Thanks for having so much faith in us, Rob.”

She chuckles. “What? You’re both extremely good at lying to yourselves. I expected this to be much more dramatic.”

“Mhm,” you start, a plan forming in your mind. Steve can almost feel it. “Hey, Robin?”

“Yes?”

“Just for that, I’m calling in sick for Steve today. That shift is all yours.”

“No. Nononono—”

You hang up the phone. That means there won’t be the buffer that is Steve Harrington to prevent Robin having to interact with Keith. She’ll be stuck with him all evening.

“That was just cruel,” Steve laughs.

You cross your arms. “Oh, so you wanna go in then?”

He smiles at you and holds his arms out. You move into the circle of them. His hands find your waist and squeeze. “No, I didn’t say that. I haven’t had a day off in months.”

“So quit whining.”

“See? I’ve only been your real boyfriend for like, a matter of hours, and you’re still being so mean to me.”

You lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his lips. It seems to appease him.

“Was that mean?”

“Not at all.”

You grin and kiss the corner of his mouth.

“Mean and a tease. Wow.”

You let out a breath of a laugh. “Only for you, Stevie.”

He takes your face in his hands, fingers pushing gently into your skin.

“Damn right.”

————

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tagging: @clovermunson

#savannah’s fics #steve harringtion #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #robin buckley #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington comfort

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tasteleeknow-remade · 2 years

Text

— sweet

pairing: chan x fem!reader genre: smut, soft!dom chan. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 4.1k

summary: you're his best friend’s little sister. he's obsessed with you, and you him. he has very good self control—until he’s forced to share a tent with you. forced proximity with corruption kink.

profanity. possessive behaviour. protected intercourse. afab!reader. forced proximity. corruption kink. pet names. oral (f. rec).

You were lucky to have a big brother that actually liked you; your best friend’s brother liked to pretend she didn’t exist. This weekend you were going camping with him and his best friend, Chan. Your best friend, Sana, was coming too. She’d developed a crush on your brother years ago. You didn’t mind, so long as she kept the swooning to a minimum. You loved your brother but if you had to hear anymore speculation about whether or not he’d be chopping firewood and if he would do it in short sleeves… you’d ban her from the trip.

“You have to help me find a way to share his tent.” She said, doing her makeup while you lounged on her bed.

“Don’t be creepy.”

“Don’t pretend like I'm the perv when you've been trying to seduce Chan any chance you get for months.”

You closed the book you were reading. “Have not.”

“Whatever, are you gonna help me or not?”

“What do you want me to do? Knock his friend out? Drag Chan’s body into the woods so you can sneak in there and stare at my brother's face all night?” She gave you a tired look.

“Luckily, it’ll be much easier than that. You’ll just have to be a bitch to me. You’ll be great at it—a real natural.”

You threw one of the pillows you were leaning against at her.

“Oh come on, you’ll get something out of it too.” She turned to you, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

“You’re gonna pay me to help you fuck my brother?”

“No, i’m going to return the favour; i’ll help you fuck his best friend.” You raised your eyebrows at her. “You be a bitch to me, we have a fight, blah blah.” She grabbed her mascara, waving it around as she detailed her plan. “Then we refuse to share a tent, your brother’s very thoughtful best friend offers to swap tents with me—you fuck him, I fuck Minho. Happily ever after.”

“Why the fuck would I want you to help me fuck Chan?”

“Oh come on, can we drop the playing dumb thing. Are you helping me or not?” She turned to start applying her mascara while you considered. You actually thought they’d make a cute couple. You’d never really seen your brother with a serious girlfriend before, but it was pretty clear to you he had a soft spot for your Sana.

“Will you swear not to tell me a single fucking thing that happens in that tent?”

“Oh so you don’t wanna hear all the details about how I blow your broth-”

“Alright, not helping you.”

“Okay! I swear. Won’t mention it ever in my life. I’ll be your loyal friend forever and you can be my maid of honour at our wedding.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Crazy in love with your hot brother.”

Your phone started vibrating on the bed next to you. “It’s Minho, shut up unless you want him to hear you.” You answered the call, jumping up to look out your friend’s bedroom window. “Yeah?”

“We’re here, you ready?”

“Yeah, be right down.” You ended the call and grabbed your bag from the end of the bed.

“They’re here? We haven’t discussed how we’re going to fight.” Sana dropped her mascara into her makeup bag then went to grab her stupidly oversized bag from the bed.

“I’ve gotta be a bitch to you right? I’m sure I can manage that. You just overreact—be a drama queen—you’ll be a natural.”

Something hit your back as you turned to leave the room. “Ow!” You turned to see a small pouch on the ground, like the one you used to carry your tampons around.

“Condoms. Be safe.” She grinned. You grabbed it, stuffing it in your bag.

“Oh my god. How much shit did you bring?” You were attempting—and failing—to cram your bag into the footrest in the backseat. One of the three seats in the back was already occupied by a pile of sleeping bags and miscellaneous crap.

“Just what we needed,” your brother replied from the driver's seat.

You grabbed a badminton racket sticking out from the pile of shit spilling over the backseat headrests, “Badminton?”

“That’s Chan’s.”

The second Minho said his name, a hand rested on the small of your back, startling you.

“Sorry, just me. Your skirt was— uh…riding up.” Chan said, his hand dropping from your back as you pulled your head from the car. You turned to face him.

“Oh, was it? Oops, thanks.”

“I was just looking for a spot for this.” He held up your friend’s very large bag, his biceps flexing. He was wearing a t-shirt; thank god for the hot weather. It was also a good sign for your friend’s firewood chopping fantasies.

“There’s no space. Sana will have to have it with her in the front.”

“I can’t, it’ll crush me,” she protested, already comfortable in the front passenger seat. She had caught up with you just as you reached the front door, throwing herself against it—refusing to move until you’d promised to let her sit in the front with Minho. “Whatever”, you’d told her. You’d learned many years ago to pick your battles wisely. Which is why you weren’t going to fight over this bag situation.

“Fine, we’ll make it fit back here.” You stepped back to let Chan attempt to cram it into the already full backseat. He leaned into the car, resting one of his knees on the seat as he tried to stuff the bag in. You watched as his t-shirt rode up his back—skin peaking out between the hem and his shorts.

“Yeah, this isn’t gonna work,” he said. You peaked over his shoulder, he’d shoved the bag as far as he could but it was still taking up the majority of the middle seat.

“She’ll just have to sit on your lap.” Sana said.

“What? No, it’ll have to go at your feet.” Chan apparently thought this was a battle worth fighting.

“It won’t fit, and I can’t sit with that on me for an hour. It’s probably heavier than her.”

You made eye contact with your friend over Chan’s shoulder—she grinned at you just as Chan turned away from her.

“I'm not sure that’s a good idea…” Chan protested, standing outside of the car now—one hand on the roof of the car.

“Oh just get the fuck in the car,” your brother grumbled. “I'm going to suffocate without the aircon on.” Apparently, he was the deciding voice because Chan gave you a quick look up and down and then lowered himself into the car. You watched as he put his seatbelt on and then placed each of his hands at his sides—looking extremely uncomfortable. Sighing, you smoothed your skirt down over your ass and lowered yourself into his lap—closing the car door behind you.

“You alright?” His mouth was so close to your ear, you could feel his breath brush against your skin as he spoke. You were fucked.

You adjusted yourself in his lip, the skin on the back of your thighs against his. “Yeah, all good.”

You couldn’t take much more of this. “How long til we’re there?” You asked Minho, shifting yourself as you spoke.

“20 minutes,” he replied, glancing into the rear view mirror. “You need a break? I can pull over. I just saw a rest stop sign.”

“Ugh, yeah. I just need to stretch my legs. Chan probably does too.”

Sana had been flirting with your brother for the past 40 minutes—and he’d let her. Which by your brother's standards may as well have been a marriage proposal. You didn’t know which you needed a break from more—Chan’s lap or their flirting. He’d grabbed your waist about 10 minutes earlier after you’d readjusted yourself one too many times. He hadn’t said anything though. In fact, he hadn’t spoken the entire trip—his hands remaining by his sides up until 10 minutes ago.

“I could use a break, yeah.” His breath tickled your ear again.

You splashed water on your face in the tiny public restroom sink as your friend spoke to you in a hushed tone. “Right, we should do it now. Just look upset as we leave the bathroom and follow my lead.”

“I want the pink top.”

“What?”

“Your pink top that I'm always complimenting you on. That’s my price.”

“I thought your price was not hearing all the hot details about how I fuck your brother tonight.”

“That still stands.”

“You’re really still gonna act like I'm not also doing you a favour?” She reached over to pick a strand of hair off your shirt. “How was it? Sitting on his lap.”

“Uncomfortable.”

“Did he get a boner?” She was smiling now, shaking her hand until the strand of hair detached itself from her fingers.

“No.”

“You sure? You know he’s obsessed with you? Minho told me.”

“No he didn’t.”

“He did so—the weekend we had the Harry Potter marathon. He said he didn’t mind if you two hooked up but Chan is apparently stressed the fuck out about it. He got all broody when Minho confronted him. Apparently he thinks you’re too innocent for him.”

When you said nothing your friend smiled and undid a button on your polo shirt. “You got this.” She said, before turning and marching out of the bathroom. You looked down at your cleavage peeking out the top of your shirt then looked in the dirty mirror, “I’ve got this.” You followed your friend.

“I can’t believe you! You’re being a bitch.” She spun around when you were in earshot of the two men leaning against the car. Right, the fight.

“Oh stop being dramatic for once in your life.”

“Dramatic?” She took a few steps towards you—her back to the car—and poked you in the chest, winking at you as she did. “I’ll show you dramatic.”

“Hey! What’s going on?” Chan was walking towards you both.

“She’s being a total fucking bitch! I’m not sharing a tent with her.” Your friend marched past him towards your brother.

“What?” Chan reached where you were standing. “What happened?”

“She’s being dramatic, I didn’t do anything.” You took a step towards him and watched his eyes drop to your cleavage before snapping back to your face.

“Alright, well just… let’s just go. We have to get there before it gets dark.” He held his hand out towards the car, prompting you to take the lead. Your brother was still learning against the driver's door.

“You good?”

“Yeah, just a stupid fight. It’s fine.” You pulled the back door open and your brother turned to do the same. “If you say so,” he muttered.

When Chan was climbing into the backseat you undid one more button before climbing in after him, making no attempt to ensure your skirt was tucked under your ass as you did. You pushed yourself back against him, your ass directly over his crotch this time.

“You all good back there?” Your brother asked as he started the car.

“Yeah, I'm comfortable.” You answered, catching the corner of your friend's mouth curve up.

Chan’s hand’s went straight to your waist. “You sure?”

“Mm.” You leaned your head back against his shoulder, giving him a clear view down your shirt. “Kinda tired though.”

He cleared his throat, “Only 20 minutes left, we can set up the tents straight away.” He reassured you, then louder he asked your brother. “20 minutes right?”

“Yeah, more like 30 actually.”

“30.” Chan repeated, hands dropping from your waist.

“I’m not too heavy am I?” you asked.

“No, I just– No, you’re fine.”

“Fine?”

“Perfect. You’re perfect.”

Chan had sat dead still until you’d climbed out of the car at the campsite, hands remaining at his side. Sana had kept her act up, refusing to talk to you and repeating her refusal to share a tent with you. No one had suggested swapping yet and you’d helped your brother set up one of the tents while the other two worked on the other. The guys had gone to grab some stuff from the car while you and Sana set up the site.

“We might have to revert to my plan,” you said, both of you on speaking terms again as long as the men were out of earshot.

“Your plan?” Your friend asked, unfolding one of the camping chairs.

“Knocking Chan out and dragging him into the woods.”

She sighed. “They’ll suggest swapping. If Minho doesn’t, Chan will. I saw his face the last 10 minutes before we arrived; he looked like he was in physical pain.”

“Maybe he was. It probably hurt having me on his lap for an hour.”

“I noticed you undid another button.” Your friend gave you a knowing look.

“Shut up.”

She laughed, then looked past your shoulder. “Oh fuck, they’re coming back. Look upset.”

“If this works, I'm using it in my speech at your wedding.”

“Now I've got you talking about our wedding.”

“I’ll swap with you,” Minho suggested, much to your friends' chagrin.

“No offence, but I'm not sharing a tent with Chan.” Your friend crossed her arms across her stomach. “I don’t know you well enough for that…sorry.”

“Right well, me and you then.” Minho pointed between himself and Sana.

“Alright,” she sounded suitably neutral about it.

“Wait-” Chan sat forward in the camping chair.

“It’s okay,” You touched his arm, reaching over from where you were sitting next to him. “Really. I don’t mind.”

His eyes flicked between yours a few times and then he leant back and returned his can to his lips. You watched his throat as he swallowed.

“I’m going for a walk.” You stood up.

“Alone? It’s getting dark,” Minho said. He was leaning over the fire, turning the meat he was cooking.

“I won’t be long.”

“I’ll come.” Chan stood from his chair, dropping his empty can into the plastic bag beside him.

“I was just going to go down and have a look at the beach.” You watched as he grabbed a black cap from his bag, smoothing his hair back and putting it on backwards—keeping the hair off his forehead. He’d grown it out a little recently. It flopped over his forehead in curls. You often had to resist the urge to brush it out of his eyes.

“Sweet, I wanted to take a look anyway.” He looked up, catching you watching him. You turned and marched quickly towards the dirt track that led to the beach.

“Do you think I'm pretty?” You’d been sitting silently on the beach, watching the sun go down over the horizon.

Chan’s hand froze where he’d been drawing patterns in the sand. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Minho’s always gotten so much attention from girls… and then there’s me…” While your brother had never been in a serious relationship, he’d had plenty of options. In high school you’d known multiple girls who had openly asked you about him—if he was single.

“You… you really shouldn’t be talking to me about this.”

“Why?”

“You’re…I mean you’re… my best friend’s little sister. I can’t talk about this with you.” He looked out over the orange horizon. “We should get back.” He stood, holding his hand out for you. “The food’s probably getting cold.”

“I do think you’re pretty.” Chan's voice broke the heavy silence in the tent. Your friend had helped Minho with the dishes and then promptly put on a show of being exhausted and disappearing into the tent—Minho following shortly after. You were definitely going to be teasing them about this at their wedding.

“You do?” You didn’t move as you spoke, keeping your gaze fixed to the roof of the tent.

“Of course I do. I shouldn’t…at least, I shouldn’t be telling you I do.”

“I won’t tell.” You rolled onto your side, watching him stare at the roof—hands supporting his head. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt, the sides open down to his last rib. “It’s my brother, isn't it? He’s why you think you shouldn't tell me.”

“It’s not just that.” You watch his chest rise and fall, waiting for him to continue. “You’re too… sweet. You aren’t for me.”

You sat up before speaking, “You don’t want me?”

His hands moved from behind his head to cover his face. He groaned. “Fuck. Stop doing this to me… please.”

“Doing what?”

He sat up abruptly. “This.” He gestured broadly. “All of it. Looking like that, speaking to me like that. I can’t have you, you aren’t mine. I can’t have you. Stop… making it harder for me.”

“You can.” You moved your hand to his arm slowly, as if he might spook. “I want to be yours.” You crawled into his lap, his eyes locked onto yours. “Please.” He reached up and touched your lips with his thumb, finger tucked under your chin.

“You’re torturing me,” he whispered.

“Please,” you repeated. His thumb pushed between your lips, his eyes fixed on them. Pulling his thumb from your mouth he traced down your neck with his fingers, stopping at the neck of your t-shirt. You brought your lips to his softly, barely touching. “Please,” you repeated again.

Before you could process what was happening his hands were holding your head and he was pressing his mouth into yours desperately. “Shouldn’t,” he muttered into your mouth, “I can't do this.” He wrapped his arms around you and laid you down onto his sleeping bag, mouth remaining attached to yours. “Shouldn’t…” He kept muttering to himself until you felt him start to grind himself into you, “Too sweet… aren’t you… too sweet for me… fuck… have to stop…” He made no move to stop, and when you reached down to pull his shirt over his head, he let you—attacking your mouth again as soon as he was free. “This okay?” Kiss. “Tell me to stop.” Kiss. “Should stop.”

“Don’t. Please.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, trapping him against you.

“You have to be quiet, hm? Stay nice and quiet for me, sweetheart.” He grabbed at the hem of your oversized t-shirt, pulling it up over your bare breasts. “Fuck.” He covered each of your tits with his hands. “Fuck, can’t do this.” He moved his mouth to lick your skin between each breast, and then he moved to sucking on each nipple. “Sweet… knew you were sweet.” He pulled his mouth away and started massaging your breasts as he was speaking, “Saw these down your shirt while you were on my lap. Did you know? I shouldn’t have looked… couldn’t help it…”

“Channie… please…”

“Shhh.. shhh.. i’ve got you… don’t want the others to hear us do we? Hm?” He reached into your underwear, fingers moving through your folds. “Bet you’re sweet down here too…” He moved down your body and pulled your shorts down your legs slowly—kissing the skin on your thighs as he went. “Can I have a taste? Want to taste you… wanted to taste you for years…”

“I want you inside…” You pulled at his hair.

“Can’t. No condom.” He said, sounding distracted as he pulled your shorts off your legs.

“I have some.”

He snapped his eyes to yours. “You… you brought condoms?”

“I-I wasn’t going too. I just thought-” He crawled up your body and leaned over you to press his lips to your neck. “Naughty girl,” he whispered. “You gonna let me fuck you? Let me have you?”

“My bag… they… they’re in my bag.”

“Fuck… I shouldn’t…” He lifted his head to look into your eyes. You lifted your arm to brush the hair away from his eyes and lifted your head so you could kiss his lips softly. “I’m going to hell.” He muttered, then crawled over to your bag. “Where are they?”

“In a small red pouch, in the pocket on the side.” You watched him dig through the bag.

He crawled back over to you, red pouch in his hand. “Tell me to stop now. We can stop now. I can stop.”

“No.” You sat up and pulled your shirt over your head then you sat back on your ass so you could wiggle your underwear down before pulling them off your legs and throwing them to the side. Chan was silent. You turned yourself so he was between your legs and watched his face as you slowly parted your knees. His eyes fixed themselves on your cunt. You reached down and stroked your finger through your folds.

He fell forward onto his elbows, breath tickling you as he spoke, “pretty…” he kissed your cunt, “little…,” another kiss, “pussy… so sweet…” he dragged his tongue through your folds—you whined. His hand covered your mouth, “Shhhh…. sweetheart… stay nice and quiet for me. Gonna fuck you, promise—just need to taste you first.” You moaned into his palm as he made out with your cunt, the slurping sounds he was making turning your cheeks pink. Thank God the tents weren't directly next to each other. It would be a miracle if the other two hadn’t heard anything even from the distance they were at. You were squirming and grabbing at his hair, struggling to stay quiet. He pulled his head up—releasing your mouth so you could answer him when he spoke, “You want me to fuck you? Tell me.”

“I-I want you… to fuck me, please.”

“Yeah?” He grabbed the small red pouch and opened it, “Watch me put this on, sweetheart.” Pulling a single wrapped condom out of the pouch, he tore it open—then looking up to see you still on your back, he prompted you again. “Come on, watch me.” He was kneeling—you propped yourself up on your elbows so you could see him. “Look at my cock. See how it’s all hard for you, hm?” You watched him stroke himself. “Look at what you’ve done to me.” He rolled the condom down himself. “Can you be quiet for me? Or do I need to cover your mouth again?” He began rubbing the tip of his cock over your cunt, eyes fixed on where he was preparing to enter you.

“I can be quiet.”

“Good girl.” He pushed into you, his body falling over yours as he bottomed out. “Fuck… thought about this all day… thought about pushing your little panties aside and fucking my cock into you while you sat on my lap.” He sat back on his heels so he could watch where you were joined—resting his palm on your lower stomach. “I’m inside you, sweetheart. Your little pussy feels so good around me, just like I knew it would.”

“Were you really thinking that in the car?”

He looked up to your face then slowly pulled himself out to the tip and entered you again. You gripped his hand where it was resting on your stomach. “I did. Does it make you feel naughty? Sitting on my lap like that when I was thinking such bad things…” He started fucking into you, hard and fast enough that your tits bounced with each thrust. “Fuck, look at your pretty tits. I’m going to fucking hell. I’m fucked.” He covered your body with his again, his face hovering over yours. You watched the chain around his neck swing as he moved. “I can’t have you just once… you’re mine now, right? Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours. I’m yours… Chan… i’m-”

“Mine.” His elbows framed your head, trapping you beneath him. He dropped his mouth to yours, grinding himself into you. “So sweet,” he murmured into your mouth, “my sweetheart, hm?” He reached down to your clit, “Need you to milk my cock, sweetness… cum around my cock… wanna feel you clench around me… go on….” you covered your mouth with your own hands as you came, attempting to stifle the sound. He groaned, “Fuck, that’s it.” He sat back on his heels again and gripped your hips, fucking himself into you—his eyes fixed on your tits. “Gonna keep you… have to keep you now, sweetheart…” He closed his eyes as he came, his hips stuttering into you as he attempted to draw it out.

You reached down to grab one of his hands as he pulled himself out of you, “Did you mean it?” you asked, breathing still erratic. He dropped down beside you, staring up at the roof again. You listened to him pant as he caught his breath, then he spoke, “Yeah, I'm keeping you.”

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

↳ masterlist

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #bang chan smut #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios #x reader

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delta-piscium · 1 year

Text

Murray, after watching Steve and Eddie for all of five seconds, confidently walks up to them and starts his whole spiel about pining blah blah etc etc, and like, Steve will absolutely not have that, there is no way.

So he snorts, looks at Murray down his nose, and with zero hesitation lies, tells him “We’ve been dating for a month, congrats on seeing the obvious... Or not since you couldn’t tell”

He just hopes Eddie will play along. Steve is sending him the strongest signals with his mind right now, and, just, he knows Eddie can be petty like this too (that’s why he likes him so much, and yeah Murray is a little right but fuck him so much more for it)

Eddie ‘lives for the bit and to fuck with people’ Munson does not disappoint. He slings an arm around Steve and is like “Yeaaahhh wow, real clever observation there buddy.” In the driest tone imaginable

And Murray, well he was sure he was right, still kind of is sure he’s right so he just squints at them for a bit and then breaks out in a wide grin, and only sounds a little sarcastic when he says “Congrats on figuring your shit out yourselves.”

Except he absolutely does not mean it because he wanted to do that, he likes doing that. And now he's sulking and will watch them so closely because something seems off

Eddie and Steve, so committed to the bit and to not let Murray win, start fake dating. All while Murray tries to catch them in their lie, and they’re all too stubborn to give up

Murray starts to slowly think he maybe was wrong though because they really seem like a couple. And even though there’s still something there he can’t ignore the proof.

When they straight up make out in front of him, and he can tell that they’re so lost in each other they probably don’t know he’s there he's about to concede

But then after that, they act so weird around each other again? It’s like before but worse and how did the pining get worse when they’re actually openly together? Regularly have their tongues down each other's throats and all?

Meanwhile, Steve and Eddie are going through it because they thought they’d be okay but that kiss was so much, and oh god they don’t think they can do this? But they can’t let Murray win?

A week and a half later at their monthly 'we survived the apocalypse, again' get-together at Hoppers and Joyce’s, Murray just gets enough of how twitchy they are. He grabs them both and locks them in a closet and is like “I don’t wanna know anymore, whatever fight you had or didn’t figure it out”

They sort of stand there shuffling from foot to foot not marking eye contact until Eddie is just like “Oh for fucks sake, I like you for real okay? The bastard was right so can we actually just date? Please?” And all Steve's can do is say "Thank god," while he smiles the most blinding smile and grabs Eddie by his collar pulling him in for a kiss

Fifteen minutes later they come out of the closet (the irony and symbolism is not lost on them) all disheveled and a little too satisfied looking and are met with very loud screaming from all the younger teens, ranging from a simple “Ew!” (Mike) to “Dude we are right here what if we'd heard? Or walked in there and seen?” (Dustin)

They’re lucky they’re too distracted by this to see Murray's self-satisfied smirk because if they did they would have pretend broken up and there would have been another month of sneaking around but this time actually dating and pretending they weren’t

#I'm bringing you all another steddie gets Murray'd take because well I can #and bc I think they'd be so bitchy to him about it and like see it as war #they refuse to admit he got them together until years later and even then they're like 'we would have gotten there quicker and with less #confusion without him- he was a roadblock actually'#they’re bitch boyfriends ok?#Murray moves on to Nancy and Robin after this and both Nancy who has been Murray'd before and Robin who knew this whole mess #just shake their heads and is like 'you quiet- we are not doing this let us figure out our own lives'#dels steddie thoughts #steddie headcanon #my post #steddie ficlet #murray bauman #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie

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honeypiehotchner · 2 years

Text

the open road (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

Happy 5.5k 🤪🤪 I’ve literally had this idea in my head for a WHILE so I am mf glad to have it out. Enjoy ;))

Summary: All the times you and Hotch spent on the open road, and the one where you couldn’t help yourself.

Warnings: smut 18+ only blah blah we know the drill (pls!), car sex!! blowjob ;)) unprotected sex (don’t be like them, use a condom), lots of teasing, lots of fluff/smut adjacent dialogue

WC: ~2.8k

It started when you saw how Hotch drives when he’s in a hurry.

Your body flung against the car door despite your hold on the safety handle above you. Infuriated, you went to yell at Hotch to slow the fuck down, until you saw the look on his face, the way his hands gripped the wheel, the way his muscles flexed underneath his dress shirt.

Oh.

Oh, the thoughts you had were beyond inappropriate, especially considering the circumstances. You were rushing to catch the unsub, and you were having unholy thoughts about your boss.

You quickly focused your eyes back on the road ahead, chanting cleansing thoughts to calm your mind down from whatever the hell that was.

It worked in the moment, but only just. What truly didn’t help matters was that you somehow always ended up riding shotgun with Hotch, no matter what. Sometimes with Rossi in the backseat, but most times it’s just you two.

Which makes it impossibly hard to hide your staring.

On this particular day, you and Hotch went to a prison about an hour away to interview a serial killer on death row. This sort of thing is routine, but you’ve never tagged along for them. It’s usually Reid or Prentiss, but for some reason, Hotch decided to take you.

It was a boring day, to say the least. Traffic getting there was awful. The checks to get into the prison and then to the specific area took forever. To make matters worse, the killer didn’t really want to talk. He wanted to play games.

Needless to say, you feel like it was a waste of time. But you can’t say that to your boss.

Instead, on the ride back to Quantico, you say, “That was enlightening.”

Hotch scoffs, then laughs. “It was a nightmare.”

“Okay, well, I wasn’t going to say that.”

“It’s alright, you can say it.”

“Fine, it was boring as hell and a complete nightmare,” you blurt, glad to have gotten it off your chest.

Hotch laughs loudly this time. “You were holding that in.”

“Maybe,” you shrug, grinning. “Definitely.”

Hotch goes to reply, but stops himself when he has to slam on brakes. A sea of red taillights are ahead.

“That looks like a nightmare,” you groan, pulling up your GPS. “Two and a half hours to get home?”

“There must’ve been a wreck,” Hotch comments, angling his head to get a better look and that looks hotter than hell.

“We should probably get off at this exit,” you say. Thankfully, you’re in the far right lane, so exiting won’t be hard.

“Good plan,” he says, putting on the signal to get over to the ramp. “Can you navigate back to the BAU?”

“Sure,” you say. “Take a left up here.”

At first, the traffic is just as bad with everyone getting off at the same ramp to avoid the interstate, but soon it calms down.

You rant about the interview while navigating, not even realizing Hotch is replying to you until he compliments you.

“What?” you blink.

“I said you did good today,” he repeats. “You held yourself well. You should do more of these with me.”

“With you?”

“Well, I wouldn’t advise doing them alone.”

“Why not?”

“It’s better done in pairs,” he says, and that’s all he’ll elaborate.

So, you decide to tease him. “Sounds like you just want an excuse to spend more time with me.”

“I don’t need to make excuses to do that,” he replies smoothly, catching you off guard.

“Oh?”

“I chose you today on purpose,” he says. “Not as an excuse.”

“Oh,” you say, not sure what to make of that. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he says. And the drive is silent after that.

+++

Now, you look forward to riding shotgun with Hotch.

Maybe you shouldn’t, but you let yourself think those wildly inappropriate thoughts. And the more tame ones, which you’re able to voice, because he’s taken a liking to complimenting you, too.

“New haircut?” he says when you knock on his office door. He had barely glanced up at you from where he’s sitting, but one second was all he needed to see the difference.

“First one to notice,” you smile, stepping into his office.

“I just pay a lot of attention to you.” That’s enough to make you swoon, but he continues. “It looks good on you.”

“Thank you,” you reply. You study him for a moment. “New tie?”

“Yes,” he chuckles, lifting the piece of fabric. “A birthday gift this morning from Dave.”

Your eyes widen. “Is today your birthday?”

Sheepishly, he nods.

“Aaron!” you scold, blowing right past the fact that you used his first name. “Why didn’t you say?”

“It’s not a big deal, and serial killers don’t care about birthdays,” he says, grabbing his briefcase. He stands and buttons his jacket. “Are you ready?”

“I guess,” you mutter. “I’m mad that you scheduled this for your birthday.”

“Not for my birthday, it just happens to be on my birthday.”

“Same difference.”

“Alright, let’s go,” he gestures for you to go out the door. “Before we’re late.”

“We won’t be late,” you scoff.

“You just have to have the last word today, don’t you?”

You pause. Well. Those thoughts are definitely inappropriate, and you’re glad you stopped yourself from saying something you shouldn’t have. Especially with the rest of the team staring up at you and Hotch from their desks down in the bullpen.

They’ve been listening to your bickering for the past few minutes. They knew it was his birthday (courtesy of Reid), but they also know he isn’t a fan of huge celebrations.

Still, you’re upset about this, and Hotch has no idea why.

You bid the team goodbye as you and Hotch head out to the garage to pick up a BAU vehicle to take to the prison.

The drive there is smooth on the interstate. The interview is slightly less of a bore than the last few, but also not enlightening. Everything the killer said, you already knew.

Hotch decides not to take the interstate back to Quantico.

“It’ll only add half an hour,” he says. “I’m tired of seeing only interstate signs.”

“Suit yourself,” you say. Normally he can’t wait to get back to work.

You use this as the perfect time to corner him about his birthday, sure that he’ll regret his decision and get back on the interstate.

“How are you celebrating?” you ask.

“I’m not,” he shrugs.

“Why not?”

“Well, for starters, we have work tomorrow.”

“And?”

“I don’t want to be out late.”

“One drink won’t be late.”

“I’m old.”

You snort. “You’re not that old.”

“I’m 44.”

“Not old, I’d still go--” you stop yourself abruptly.

“You’d what?”

“Nothing,” you laugh. Shit shit shit. “You’re not old.”

“What were you going to say?”

“Nothing!” you cry, laughing awkwardly.

“Y/N.”

“Nothing, Aaron.”

“You can tell me.”

You shake your head. “I definitely cannot.”

“Y/N.”

“Aaron.”

You stare at him and he stares back at you, intermittently looking away to watch the road, but it’s wide open. No one is around. And he’s better at staring than you are.

“Fine,” you grumble. “I’d still…I’d still go for you.”

“Go for me?”

“Yes, like, have sex with you— with a 44 year old because 44 isn’t that old— Please watch the road and stop looking at me.”

He grins, but he looks back at the road. One car passes. You’re mortified. You want to jump out of the window and roll into the ditch and stay there.

“Will you say something?” you blurt.

He laughs, and that makes you grimace. This is not how you pictured this conversation happening.

“Thank you. I think,” he says.

“You’re welcome,” you huff. “Even though I shouldn’t have said anything. That was inappropriate.”

“It wasn’t inappropriate,” he replies, and his hand does what it has done this entire trip -- and drives in the past. He gestures into your space on the passenger side, each time nearly connecting with your arm. This time, his fingers graze your skin.

“Okay…” you hesitate for a moment, keeping your arm on the console, not inching away from his touch.

He doesn’t move his hand, either, and it’s strange. His knuckles brush down your arm, over your wrist and to your fingers where he rests his hand over yours. You can feel his own hesitation, wondering how many lines this is crossing and how many rules are being broken.

“So, if I-- if someone my age,” he corrects himself, “asked you on a date, you would go for it?”

“Absolutely,” you reply a little too quickly.

“It seems like you’ve thought about this.”

“I have,” you admit.

“Good to know,” he says, smirking. And that’s the end of it.

+++

It’s a slow progression, your relationship with Hotch. The many car rides together on the open road provide for perfect moments. Here, with no one around, the two of you can be affectionate without worry.

He holds your hand while he drives, occasionally bringing your knuckles to his lips for a kiss. You play with his fingers, tracing his knuckles, the lines on his palm.

Sometimes, when he’s feeling bold, he’ll rest his hand on your thigh. The first time it happened, arousal paralyzed you. Now, it makes you want to climb in his lap.

He has to know what he’s doing.

He squeezes your thigh and you’re done for, squirming in your seat like it’s uncomfortable.

“What is wrong with you?” he asks.

“Oh, don’t you dare,” you mutter.

“What?”

“You have your hand on my thigh and you’re asking me what’s wrong?”

“Do you want me to move?”

“No, you-- Let me just--” You move his hand, only so you can give him a taste of his own medicine. You place your hand on his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch, and his jaw tenses immediately. “See?”

“I see.”

You squeeze your hand, digging your fingertips in, and you see him swallow hard. “Want me to move my hand?” you ask playfully. You begin to take your hand away and he grabs your wrist, keeping your hand right where it is.

Oh?

He says nothing about it, so neither do you. The drive continues in silence, only the radio playing lowly.

After a while, you notice that not a single car has passed by. The two of you seem to be alone again on this road.

Your skin is burning with the anticipation of what you want to do. Your fingers twitch against his leg, wanting to move further up his thigh, but resisting.

He’ll tell you to stop. If it’s too much. You should just go for it.

So you do.

In a moment of reckless boldness, you stare straight ahead at the road and slowly creep your hand up his thigh.

You hear him inhale sharply, but he doesn’t stop you.

You trace slow circles on the fabric of his pants, each time inching closer and closer to where you want to be. His belt will be in the way, though. That’ll have to go first.

“You should tell me to stop,” you murmur, letting your fingers travel to his belt. You begin to tug on it, getting his attention. “Aaron?”

“Keep going,” he says, through a tight jaw. He glances over at you but then back at the road. His left hand tightens on the wheel.

He wore the belt that snaps, so you’re able to open it swiftly. Unbuttoning his pants, you tug the zipper down. He’s already hard, but not fully just yet. His restraint is unbelievable to you, but you know his body well enough now to get around it.

He adjusts his hips to give you better access, but accidentally revs the car when he does.

“Relax,” you chuckle. “You can’t run us off the road.”

“I won’t,” he says firmly.

You hum as you tease him some more, lightly touching him, smirking as he grows. Easy.

He’s uncomfortable, reaching down to move his underwear. If you weren’t so pleased with yourself, you would’ve swatted his hand away. But instead you let him do it, wasting no time in wrapping your hand around him.

“Your hands are always so cold,” he laughs, his voice deeper now.

“You’re always so warm,” you retort, stroking him gently. “Is there anyone around?”

He looks in the rearview and then shakes his head. “No.”

“Good,” you smirk, unbuckling your seatbelt. You lean over the console, glad that this model has such a flat design.

“Shit,” he cusses, realizing what you plan to do. He should’ve known better than to assume otherwise, honestly.

You take him into your mouth with a low hum, loving the way the muscles in his legs tense immediately. Only the tip rests on your tongue, yet you feel his heart rate beginning to pick up.

He talks a big game, acting nonchalant and cool, until your mouth is on him. He’s said before that he loses it all with you. There is no holding back.

Taking him deeper, you feel him hit the back of your throat sooner than expected, causing you to gag. This angle is different, and his hand reaches for your shoulder, a gentle touch, asking if you’re alright.

You suck him down again, better prepared now, and his hand tenses, lifting off your skin to not leave bruises, even though you’d like him to (but you haven’t told him that just yet).

To compromise, you grab his hand and place it on the back of your head, looking up at him. He glances down in surprise, meets your eyes, and groans, letting out the sound he’s been holding inside.

His hand pushes on your head, the pressure igniting something inside of you. You adjust to get a better angle, pulling back to swirl your tongue over his head.

The car speeds up again, but he catches himself, not wanting you to stop. His hand remains at the back of your head, keeping you in place, as if you’d go anywhere anyway.

“I’m gonna have to pull over,” he mutters, barely getting the words out.

You shake your head and he groans loudly. Lifting up, you look at him. “Where’s the fun in that?”

His head hits the headrest and he sighs, chuckling deliriously. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“You say that every time,” you tease.

He continues driving, determined now to not pull over. The thrill goes away if he isn’t driving.

Continuing as you were, you chase his release, desperate to hear him. You take him into your mouth fully again, swallowing with a contented hum.

You feel it when he begins to unravel, the way he twitches in your mouth, the way his abdomen tenses. He keeps your head pinned down, only lightly, but enough for you.

His climax is unexpected even for him, spilling down your throat without much more than a few seconds warning. He lifts his foot from the gas, willing his eyes to stay open enough to see the road.

You swallow it all, coaxing more from him, relishing in his little noises. If it weren’t for the console finally digging in a little too hard to your ribcage, you would stay.

You lift your head with a satisfied smile, squeaking in surprise when his hand on the back of your head pulls you into him for a kiss.

“The road!” you mumble through kisses, keeping an eye on it, even though it’s still empty.

“Fuck the fucking road,” he mutters, swerving to pull off to the side. He puts the car in park and pulls you back in.

“Aaron!” you laugh, letting him haul you into his lap.

“I can’t drive and do this,” he says, putting both hands on your face and smothering you in a kiss.

He grows harder underneath you, especially now that you’re sitting in his lap, grinding your hips against him.

“Thank god these windows are tinted,” you chuckle as he practically rips your pants off of your legs. You hear a seam rip and you give him a tired look. “Seriously?”

“I’ll buy you more,” he says, finishing the job and ripping them entirely. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Whore,” you snicker, but it’s broken off when he enters you in one swift movement.

“You were saying?” he whispers, smirking against your cheek. You can’t answer and he starts to grin, nipping at your jaw. “That’s what I thought.”

+++

When the two of you return to Quantico two hours late, the team starts to wonder what is really going on.

Each time, your excuse is traffic, stopping to get food, gas, or all of the above. But this time, there is no hiding the obvious.

Meaning, the way Hotch has to come into the office to grab your go bag from your desk so you’ll have a pair of fucking pants to wear into the building.

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch smut #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x fem!reader smut #aaron hotchner x fem!reader smut #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic

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tinkerleaf · 18 days

Text

Prom with Chuuya!

Words: 400ish Genre: fluff Warnings: none pairing: chuuya/reader a/n: I'M SORRY FOR BEING GONE SO LONG I GOT SO BUSY, but I am here now! Thank you guys for being patient with me. For some reason, the Prom Series is so difficult to write for, so please bear with me. Tags: @estelera11891

“I’m not going to Prom with you.”

“Oh, come on!” You stared at Chuuya with annoyance. “All of my friends have dates. Besides, what do you have going on that night?” The conversation had been going on for nearly twenty minutes.

“Are you really gonna ask me that?” He was in the Port Mafia after all. “I’m too busy to worry about stuff like that.” He stood from the edge of his bed where you had been sitting with him.

You tugged him by his sleeve, “Please?”

He looked at your pleading eyes and sighed. “Fine. But don’t expect me to have a good time.”

-----

Chuuya picked you up on his motorcycle. He was adorned in his best attire, a suit he wore for important events and meetings. When he showed up at your door, you didn’t expect him to have flowers for you in his hand, a light blush grazing his cheeks.

“Well, don’t you just look handsome?”

“Get out here before I change my mind.”

-----

That boy was a typically fast driver. You knew that since you rode with him all the time. However, this time, he was determined to get you guys there ‘fashionably late’. Additionally, he knew how much effort you put into your appearance for the night, and didn’t want to mess any of that up for you.

When your friends saw you two walk in, they were all over you. They were asking who your date was, about his motorcycle, if he went to your school, blah, blah, blah.

“Are you two a thing?” Your friend whispered to you.

You took a glance over at Chuuya, who was nervously fixing his collar. “Oh, uh-” He draped an arm around you

She gave you an excited look as you rolled your eyes.

As the night went on, Chuuys began to loosen up. He was even willing to dance after some coaxing. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was starting to have a great time.

-----

The two of you had been friends for a while, but something about how you looked that night made Chuuya fall so hard for you. Maybe it was the sparkle in your eyes from the dancing lights that grazed your skin. Maybe it was the smile you gave him when he danced with you. Maybe it was the feeling of your soft fingertips on his face. Whatever it was, he couldn’t get enough of it, and he needed more.

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the-fluff-piece · 8 months

Note

Hiya, I’ve only just found your blog and I love your work🥰 would you mind writing a bit of a drama (i’m a drama queen🥲)? I’ve been thinking some misunderstanding like zoro being (unintentionally) popular with girls but one being extremely clingy to the point people, as well as the fem reader, think they are a couple. Female reader gets jealous and sad and Sanji comes to comfort her and Zoro sees that and gets the wrong idea and becomes jealous too. But they somehow find out the truth and blah blah romantic stuff confessions etc. I know it’s ridiculous but I live for the drama🥺 thanks in advance and i will understand if you don’t want to do it but I love ya anyway xx

Hiya dear reader,

Thank you for your kind words! I'm happy that you like my style!

I'm sorry it took so long, but I didn't want to post something unfinished XD I hope you don't mind me setting it before the time skip, I think water seven directly after enies lobby is a great location.

Drama is always good and that's a great setup - LET'S DO IT (got a little longer)

👉 masterlist stories

👉 masterlist headcanon

here's

Zoro has no fucking clue

You defeated CP9 and returned together with Robin to Water 7, where the crew got the chance to heal and relax for a few days.

Together, you really showed it to the world government! Well, mostly the big hitters in the crew. Zoro saved you when it came to fighting, not that you minded it. Whenever you were in danger, you knew that he would show up and defeat whatever marine captain or sea monster was trying to kill you.

When you got the key and released him and Usopp from the cuffs, he flashed you a heartmeltingly handsome smile and proceeded to partake in the absolutely ridiulous sword duel that destroyed half the building - and than he fought against thousands of marines.

He really deserved a break. And a thank you. You had been aimlessly wandering through the streets of water 7 to find something for Zoro, a gift to thank him. And maybe show him how much you like him.

Eventually, you decided to get him a Magnum bottle of sake, enough for his big thirst. It was something he absolutely would love.

Pleased with your purchase, you walked back to your temporary shelter in water 7- but your heart almost stopped. You were already so attuned to his appearance, that you could have picked out that green hair in any crowd - Zoro was here. And he seemed to be moving fast. Trouble? That meat head always managed to find a fight, you better help him out.

The gathering crowd slowed you down almost immediately. You squeezed through to see Zoro fighting with some guy, who was no match for the formidable swordsman.

Putting on a real show, Zoro played with the amateur, who poked helplessly at the air as Zoro effortlessly moved around the battlefield. Drinking in the "Oh!" And "Ah!" From the surrounding crowd, a cocky smile spread over his face.

With his two swords crossed, he finally attacked and struck his opponent down with one blow.

The crowd cheered - a very female sounding cheer. You noticed a lot of girls streaming to him. They clung to his arms and praised his strength- what was going on?

A girl shouted: "He got the pantie thief! He's my hero!" In a ridiculously high pitched voice and ran towards a grinning Zoro.

Pantie thief - of course. You rolled your eyes and waited for the crowd to dissipate. And you waited, and waited. One of them seemed glued to Zoro's arm, giggling and throwing her long, blonde locks around.

"Hey Zoro, let's get back to the others" you tried to get him to leave with you.

"Nah. this girl here will thank me with some booze! Just go back without me." He waved you off while the girl promised him all he could drink.

Rolling your eyes even harder, you went back to the crew at the galley-la building and informed them of Zoro's absence.

"Good riddance!" Sanji muttered past his cigarette. "Want an éclair?" He offered, almost in the same breath but with suddenly heart-shaped eyes.

"YES" you shouted, hungry for some kind of comfort after Zoro just trotted off with a blonde haired beauty.

"Stupid mosshead!" You cursed as you angrily shoved the sweet treat into your mouth.

"Yes he is, if he did anything to you I will kick that guy to the moon!" Sanji chimed in.

"No it's okay." You muttered and continued to mope for the rest of the evening.

Hardly able to sleep, you heard Zoro stumble home at dawn, throwing himself into a corner and snoring almost immediately.

You hoped that it was done with that - until the next morning. You heard Sanji shriek in delight as the door opened: "Such a sweet beautiful girl, did you come to see me, my lady?"

You didn't hear the reply clearly, but a high female voice cooed something and you heard a loud thud as Sanji's body hit the floor, an expression of total horror on his face.

The girl from yesterday pranced past you as you knelt down next to the cook.

"It's horrible..." he hoarsely whispered, seemingly near death, "she's bringing the mosshead breakfast. That beautiful lady..." his eyes closed as he sighed the last half-sentence and with it, his will to live (for the moment).

Hot jealousy surged up again. You stomped to the table, where luffy was sleep-eating heaps and Zoro gingerly unpacked a giant sandwich, seemingly made entirely out of meat.

The blonde bimbo had parked her breasts on the table and watched Zoro with a dreamy expression as he wolfed down the sandwich, splattering sauce all over the place.

"Do you like it?" She asked in a melodic voice.

"Yeah, thanks" Zoro answered with a full mouth. He seemed very content. That ass.

She didn't leave afterwards. In fact, she basically moved in immediately, either hanging on Zoro's arm or sitting close to him, watching him with heart shaped eyes and complimenting his every breath.

She eventually informed the somewhat irritated rest of the crew that her name was Silk (while throwing her silky hair around) and that she stayed with Zoro. Since she didn't actually do anything bad and Zoro didn't seem to mind, everyone accepted or ignored it.

"Come on, snookums, it's so crowded here, let's go out" Silk tugged at his arm. "I know a great liquor place!"

"Yeah why not" he lazily followed her as she maneuvered him like a tugboat.

"Snookums?" you stared after them in disbelief.

Nami, meanwhile, died of hysterical laughter.

"Didn't think that a girl could tame him that much. He's totally whipped!" she laughed and slapped your back while you didn't understand the world anymore.

The sake you bought was still in your bag, still untouched. Maybe you should bring it back to the store.

It was evening, Zoro and his girl weren't back yet. You found yourself so irritated that you couldn't sleep, just like Sanji, who sat at the table and poured himself some wine.

As you sat next to him, he silently passed you a glass as well. He somehow managed to get from perfectly coiffed, full of energy and dressed to the nines to unshaven and disheveled in the course of a day.

"I know why I am upset...but what is it with you?" You ask him.

Two bloodshot eyes stared back at you.

"I can't believe Marimo...that filthy brute, with no style and no interest in women has a...a..." The end of his sentence was too much to bear for him, instead he took a nervous gulp of wine.

"And she's so....soo...prettyyyyy" he dragged out the last word like a pre-schooler in a tantrum.

You gently tapped your glass against his: "to us" you whisper.

"To...us?" He half asked and half repeated and he smiled.

One glass turned into two glasses, and like that the bottle was gone. Your only topic: how much Zoro and that girl sucked.

A new bottle was opened, and another. Soon, you didn't find enough things to hate Zoro for anymore, so instead you moved on to different topics. Sanji told you about growing up in the restaurant while you told him a few stories of your own. After the third bottle was emptied, you were both pretty drunk, and you didn't really remember much anymore.

You drifted off to an uneasy sleep, full of Zoro how he made out with the girl named Silk. How they had children and generally shoved their happiness into your face.

"Oi, wake up. Y/n, wake up!" You heard Zoro's angry voice above you as he tapped you with his foot.

"Wha...let me sleep marimo" you answered, swiftly adopting Sanji's language and inflection.

As you opened your eyes, the swordsman's towering frame took up your entire field of vision. With his crossed arms and grumpy expression, he looked intimidating as hell.

You stretched and realized that you had slept on the floor, leaning against Sanji, amidst a lot of pillows. Sanji must have brought them during the night to make you more comfortable. Now that's a man!

When you moved, Sanji's head fell into your lap, still sleeping, and he immediately began purring like a kitten. Zoro grabbed him by the collar and shook him awake.

"What the fuck YOU think you're doing?" He bellowed at his sleepy crewmate.

"Go and have your nosebleed somewhere else, you pervy cook!" He said as he threw Sanji down again -hopefully immediately regretting it because Sanji answered with a fiery kick.

Not even 5 minutes awake and already near a fight, you decided to crawl away to safety and make some tea.

As you set down with steaming cup in hand, you spotted the blonde girl coming towards you, wearing the same clothes as yesterday. Demonstrably, she sighed and commented "what a short night" showcasing her disheveled hair with a pout.

"Uh-hu" was all you could manage.

"You are his crewmate, are you not?" she asked, "how can you live with that manly man on one boat and not fall for him?"

"Yeah, it's a mystery" you answered sourly. If she only knew that you did - and he didn't care.

She continued to talk about something, but you decided not to listen. Instead, you focused on the fight going on outside now, where Zoro and Sanji shouted insults at each other.

"You hurt her feelings! I cannot ignore that!" Sanji screamed. "FLAMBÈ SHOT!"

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, STUPID COOK!" Zoro answered among loud clashes.

Your head was aching too much, there was too much noise. You excused yourself and went outside - away from the fight - and sat at the pier. It was calm here. Just faint noises of fighting were in the background.

You thought about how childish those two were, always fighting about something. But you were one to talk, you were childish as well. Zoro or Silk had no way of knowing that they hurt your feelings. At least Zoro deserved an open apology. And his sake.

You sighed, already playing the conversation in your head. The waves crashed against the pier, it was really calm.

Too calm.

When you returned to the building, both Zoro and Silk were gone.

Sanji was at the stove, making breakfast.

"Zoro stormed off" he said flatly. "And Silk-chan followed, of course."

They didn't return for the whole day. Dusk came and there was still no sign of them.

It got late, evening turned to night and Zoro was still gone. It was time to have a talk, to let him know how you felt, and to clarify where you both stood. You packed the sake to finally give it to him and be the friend he deserved.

You made your way through the bustling streets of Water 7 once again, aimlessly walking and hoping to find Zoro. It was a lively city with people sitting outside and laughing late into the night. You didn't see the green hair anywhere, maybe they've gone to her place.

Your feet have taken you away from the people in the streets to side alleys, where everything was calm and dark. There were lots or piers looking out to the water where crews loaded and unloaded goods.

With relief, you spotted Zoro sitting on a wooden barrel near the water's edge, alone now, with an empty bottle of sake beside him. His expression was more somber than before, and he seemed lost in thought.

Taking a deep breath, you approached him, determined to have the conversation you had been avoiding. As you got closer, Zoro looked up and met your gaze, and you could see a hint of surprise in his eyes.

"Hey," you said softly, taking a seat beside him. "Mind if we talk?"

Zoro blinked and then nodded, a serious look on his face. "Sure, what's on your mind?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat and decided to be direct. "I am really happy for you, Silk seems to really like you." You paused, unsure where to go next.

"And I hope you're happy with the cook" he snorted.

"What?" You asked, surprised.

"The cook. And you. I wouldn't have thought..." His voice trailed off and he took the bottle again. Remembering that it was already empty, he threw it into the sea with a sigh.

"That goddamn cook with his nice words..." Zoro mumbled angrily.

"I am not with Sanji, silly" you told him.

"But you slept together...! On the floor!" He stuttered.

"We just fell asleep, nothing more." You said.

"I...I'm not with Silk either." He rubbed his head, "in fact, she was kind of unnerving."

"Than why be with her for days?" You asked.

"You know, it was nice to be appreciated for once. Silk gets it. You always call me stupid or silly." He shrugged.

"You stupid mosshead, everytime I call you stupid I mean that I like your stupid!" You rummaged in your bag for the Sake, "it means that you're adorable and cute and so, so unbelievably, awesomely stupid! And I do appreciate you. You save me all the time. I bought this for you, as a thank you" You gave him the extra large bottle of Sake.

Zoro's brows furrowed as the gears started turning in his head. "I didn't realize... I mean, I didn't think...why did you never say so before?"

"Don't know. You never really cared about anything besides swords and fighting." You shrugged.

"I...I do care, I just...I'm not so good with words." He held the bottle in his hands like he didn't know what to do with it.

He swallowed and looked at you. "You know, I think you're stupid, too. Really silly. The silliest person I've ever met." He laughed and you chimed in.

You felt a rush of relief and happiness wash over you. Maybe Zoro wasn't as clueless as you had thought. Perhaps he had his own way of expressing his feelings.

"Just to be sure...stupid means I like you" He whispered and invited you to sit with him. When you hopped on the barrell, he put his arm around you.

As you sat there by the water's edge, the two of you talked late into the night, sharing stories, laughter, and sake. The noise of the world around you faded into the background as you discovered a deeper connection with Zoro, one that went beyond the chaos of battles and adventures.

And in that moment, you realized that sometimes, the most meaningful conversations happened not in grand gestures, but in the quiet moments shared between two people who cared for each other deeply.

-----

Epilogue (because I don't want to leave Silk's character as the only evil female catty villain)

Zoro and you eventually made it back to the company house and shocked everyone, first and foremost poor Sanji, with your new found closeness. It would be a long road until you could say the l-word to each other, but whatever your now relationship was, it was good.

It would still be a few days until you could sail from water 7 and you enjoyed the commodities of the city, walking through the busy streets, window shopping.

A store with beautiful cloth caught your eye and you entered. You looked at the exquisite goods when you heard a shop clerk approach "can I help you?"

"No I'm just look-AHHH" your voice and face must have derailed when you found yourself looking at an equally shocked Silk. A moment of awkward silence followed where you saw that her eyes were swollen and she looked really tired.

"Uhm, hi Silk, how are you?" You stammered.

"You know. Not so good" Silk looked unnerved. "What do you want?"

"I didn't know you worked here" you were caught off guard. But now that Zoro was with you, the anger against her seemed childish and mean.

"I'm Sorry if I was mean to you before" you said, surprising the girl, "I was unfair."

"No, don't. I was...overreacting, too. I'm sorry" She said thoughtfully. "He didn't stop talking about you. Really annoying, like he was hung up on you. That's why I was so pushy" Tears pooled in her eyes again.

Helpless, you tried to comfort her.

"Don't...he's just a stupid, stupid man" you told her.

"I know. That's why I liked him" she said, voice breaking.

You guessed that you weren't the best person to comfort her now, so you decided to leave.

"I'm Sorry. I should go now" you said.

"Yeah. Bye" She forced a smile and waved.

#one piece fanfiction #one piece x you #op zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro x female reader #zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #angst #one piece zoro #one piece #jealousy

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volos-togepi · 9 months

Text

PLA boys finding out you’re pregnant with their child

i love these boys and i will die on this hill

Adaman

oh he’s so happy

a little surprised at first

but ultimately he’s so ready for this new journey with you

not like you haven’t been planning this or anything…

and he’s sure to ask how you’re feeling

because your thoughts are more important to him

“Let’s talk about it.”

he’s so comforting

and he’s so good at helping you stay in a good headspace

compliments are a constant

and if you’re ever feeling down or uneasy, he’s there to support you

he’s there EVERY step of the way

he works on how he presents himself as a leader

and he thinks about how this role will compliment the other

he’s so helpful at home

and he loves to cook for you

“Just relax, y/n! I’ve got it.”

you both have so many conversations about your pregnancy

and you bet that he’s been asking around for parenting advice

knowing he’s becoming a father absolutely gives him an ego boost

and you know he’ll be the best dad a kid could have

Volo

“Come again?”

he’s perplexed

scared even

he’ll force a smile to please you

but he’s DEFINITELY not ready to be a father

while he’s traveling, he’ll often think about the situation

and mostly cons come to his mind

he’s TERRIFIED to talk to you about it

but he’ll eventually speak up

“I just don’t think I can be the father you want me to be; the father this child deserves.”

you both chat for HOURS

and you both cry about the situation you’ve found yourselves in

but one day, it hits him

HARD

he’s traveling, and he thinks about how wonderful it would be to have a daughter

someone to protect; to share his countless stories with; to bring home little trinkets or flowers and get a squeal of joy in return

not that he doesn’t already have you, but…

that switch just flips

he RUNS to your home and immediately takes you in his arms

he’ll apologize SO many times, bawling into his hands

“I want this. All of it.”

he won’t stop holding you for a moment

because he needs to let you know how much he loves you

and he has to make up for all the time he’s been away somehow

he’s eager to cook for you; to clean for you

literally whatever you need, he’s there

and he doesn’t plan on leaving anytime soon (if at all now)

Melli

oh he’s ecstatic

Melli only wants the BEST for himself

so clearly, you are the best

and this baby…

“This is SO EXCITING!!!”

this gives him so much more to brag about

he’s already got a list of names written out

and it’s LONG

he talks about how much he wants this

and how much he loves you

#1 hype man

he makes you feel so good about yourself

and you better believe he’s telling everyone how excited he is to be a father

he’s actually REALLY attentive during your pregnancy

because he wants you to feel your best each and every day

you and Adaman both try to talk to him about how gross babies are in the beginning

because you know how easily disgusted he is

and he clearly doesn’t listen

“Blah blah blah… Babies are fun!”

he’s just wayyyy too excited

after a while, he does start to have doubts about his role as a father

and you assure him that it’s okay and that he’ll be great at it

he learns and grows so much during your pregnancy

his narcissistic qualities tone down a bit (but not too much)

he just wants to be the best he can be for your family

and he’s so eager for that next milestone to come

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hazbin-hotlee37 · 29 days

Note

Lee!Vox with Ler!Velvette would be cute :3

Fuck, motivation has gone poof! Anywayyyyyyssss

TW: Mentions of eating disorders and bad self care habits

Getting your mind off things

Lee!Vox, Ler!Velvette

“VOX!”

The TV headed demon in question jumped slightly, lifting his head from the desk where he was sleeping and running a hand down his screen. He sat up with a wince, his back aching. Fuck… What time was it?

“Vox, you missed the damn meeting and left me there with Valentino-... Damn, you look like shit. The fuck happened to you?” Velvette asks after she spun Vox’s chair toward her. The Media overlords appearance was very off from usual, looking disheveled instead of pristine.

“Nothing… I’ve just been trying to work on the Angelic Security shit…”

“That random idea you pulled out your ass? Why waste so much energy on that?? The extermination was canceled”

“Yeah, but what about the next one! I want to get this shit out there so the bitches aren’t breathing down my neck over it next year!” Vox said with a sigh.

“Yeahhhh, no. Come on, you haven’t left this damn cave in days.” She responds as she takes Vox’s hand dragging him out of his chair and out the door.

“I’m fine, Vel-”

“Don’t make me get Valentino” That shut the Media overlord up, he loved his husband, of course! But…… Valentino was already on his ass about this type of thing, if he learned the real reason as to why he wasn’t in bed with him at night… God, he did not have the mental capacity to comprehend that lecture.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Come on, I’ll get you something to eat” Velvette says as she pushed Vox into her room/living area. Vox stumbled a little but followed.

“I’m not really hungry right now, Vel” Vox mutters, he knows he should eat something… But the thought of food right now only made his stomach churn…

“Don’t tell me-... That thing is coming back?”

Vox shrugged and looked to the side, fidgeting with his sleeve slightly.

“Have you told Val-”

“No. And he doesn’t need to know, I’m fine.”

“Clearly you’re not, V! When was the last time you ate? Or slept? Or even took care of yourself in the slightest??” Velvette says, concern clear in her voice. “You’re gonna work yourself to your second death at this point!”

“I know, I know… I get it, It’s just hard to suddenly change something you’ve done since you were alive.. For years! I’m trying my best… but sometimes it creeps back…” Vox says his voice going quiet near the end, he sat down on the couch and sighed.

“...Bloody hell, V, I didn’t realize you were this fucked up” Velvette says with a joking smile, trying to lighten the mood as she sat down next to the Media demon.

“Who down here isn’t..?” Vox says with a slight smile, he then jumped and gasped quietly when he felt Velvette run her claws up his side. “V-Vel-”

“Come on, Vox, we both know you need a bit of a pick me up” The fashion designer says with a smile as she squeezes the TV demon’s sides.

Vox squeaked and tried to bring his knees up to his chest but Velvette just pushed his legs back down and started scribbling her fingers over his tummy.

“Nahaha! V-Vehel, nononono NOhohoho! Ehehek!” Vox giggled and batted at the Social Media influencers hands but didn’t really try to push her away.

“Aww, what’s the matter, Voxy, can’t handle what you dish out? Don’t think I forgot when you got me and Val the other day! So take this as a pick me up and revenge!” The fashionista says with a smirk as she started to squeeze and drill her thumbs into the Tech demon’s hips, giggling when he shrieked.

“VEHEHELVEHETTE! NAHAHAEHEHEH- I Cahahan’t-! Ehehehek!”

“Shush! God, you’re so bloody loud! At this point, Val’s gonna kick down the door!” “Ihihihi’M SOHOHORREHEHE-” “Blah, blah, blah. Whatever, I’ll slow down a lil, don’t want you passing out on me. Tino will have my head” Vel says with a softer smile as she plays with Vox’s antenna, making the TV headed demon’s giggles melt into something softer.

“Ohoho gosh…” “Yeah, yeah, just take a load off, alright? You deserve it…”

#hazbin hotel tickle #lee!vox #mentioned Valentino #lots and lots of fluff #soo much fluff #Headcanon: Vox is fucked up #Eating disorder mentioned but not directly #Hinted at #Ler!Velvette

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flanaganfilm · 1 year

Note

Good morning/ evening! My name’s Sam and I’m currently a film student hoping to get into freelance writing. I’ve got a couple questions if you don’t mind (hoping you haven’t already answered them and I just missed them).

When you first starting making your own films, did you have already have thick skin for any critics/ bad reviews? Or is that something you grew over time?

Also, for your production company, do you hire interns and PAs or do you prefer filmmakers with more experience?

Thank you!

To your first question, I do not have a thick skin in that area AT ALL and never have. I don't know many people who do.

I'm often approached by fans who will talk about what a project of mine means to them, or I find a review or think piece online where the author really connected with my work. I want to let that feedback in, because it's validating. But letting it in means letting ALL of it in, even the negative. I don't really get to pick and choose. Once I decided to let myself react emotionally to other people's feedback, those gates are open I've got to accept whatever comes through.

I take my work very seriously, and tend to pour my heart and soul into it. We make these things because we love them. It can literally take years of daily work to do. When people love it, it feels great. When people don't, it hurts. There's really no way around that.

Film criticism has, like a lot of things, devolved over time. I was a massive fan of Robert Ebert, who was thoughtful and sophisticated in his critiques (most of the time), and tried to approach each movie he watched on the film's own terms - from the perspective of "how successful was this at achieving what it set out to do?" I see a lot of criticisms today that don't do this, and instead are lamenting what a movie is or isn't, saying things like "I wish this was more..." or "This isn't good because I wanted it to be something else."

"I wanted a ________ and what I got instead was ______ so it sucks."

The other issue is that loud, sensationalized vitriol gets more clicks. Negative reviews, especially brutal and callous ones, get more attention than positive ones. I've gotten to know and befriend some professional critics over the years, who have all told me that the positive reviews don't generate the audience reaction quite like the negative ones. People enjoy watching things get beat up. We reward the wrong kind of discourse, and that isn't unique to film criticism - it's everywhere. That's just a symptom of our culture.

One of my great frustrations is how we assert our opinion as objective truth. There's nothing more dangerous than tweeting "I liked ______ movie!" The comments flood in about how you're wrong, how it sucks, blah blah blah. People think their own taste is somehow factual. If someone says "I had a fantastic steak dinner last night and I loved it," we don't say "you're wrong, steak sucks". We understand the concept of taste when it comes to other things we consume, but when it comes to entertainment each one of us thinks we're the ultimate authority.

For myself, my producer and my wife have long discouraged me from reading reviews. I still can't help it. It's not healthy though. I can scroll past a dozen positive ones, and they evaporate in my mind, but I read one scathing thing and it sticks with me for days. There is one particular review of MIDNIGHT MASS that is one of the most baffling and frustrating things I've ever read, as the author appears to have misunderstood just about every aspect of the series, and drawn the angriest, most misguided, most erroneous conclusions. I read it with my jaw on the ground... "but they're objectively wrong. That isn't what happens, and that isn't what the show is even about." But what can I do? Who am I to say their experience of the show is invalid? They feel how they feel, and that's fine. That's okay. It has to be.

So your skin doesn't get thicker, it is a bizarre emotional experience to put something personal out there into the world and see the gamut of reactions. But at a certain point you have to remind yourself that it's impossible to please everyone, and that these projects don't belong to the filmmaker - they belong to the audience, and each and every one of those experiences is unique and valid. Perhaps there are lessons to be learned, and perhaps the critique can help you grow as a filmmaker.

I have similar feelings when I see someone trashing someone else's work I happen to love - for example, I remain baffled by people who didn't like EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE, but that doesn't mean anything. It didn't work for them, that's all. Nothing works for everyone.

I have found over the years that I respect and appreciate analyses and criticisms that take this more personal point of view, and talk about their own interaction with the work as opposed to just dismissing it outright. When someone says "this movie didn't work for me," or "I didn't connect with it," or "It just wasn't my cup of tea," I have a much easier time taking it seriously. It's changed how I talk about my own reactions to movies or shows that I didn't respond to. And I found that it's made it much easier for me to enjoy things even if they aren't quite for me. Instead of being reactive and saying "it sucks" or "I hate this," I've gotten better at realizing it's not a binary experience - I can look at what DOES work for me, and I can appreciate it, even while other elements might not.

It makes for a much more nuanced discussion, and helps me grow. Sometimes, though, it's just the wrong thing to watch on the wrong day, and that's fine too. Maybe that makes it a little easier. If I step out of something and just really don't enjoy it, it helps remind me that it's not personal. Clearly, other people DO enjoy these things, sometimes I'm very much in the minority. And when that happens, I can say "oh, it's not so bad if someone hates a movie I made, or a show, or whatever. Life's too short."

But I long ago decided I'd never say anything negative about someone else's work in public. I know too much about what it takes to make a movie, and I'm not a critic. I'm a filmmaker. This town is too small, and there is zero upside in dragging another filmmaker's efforts. On the rare occasions when I do see another filmmaker indulge in that behavior, it is always a terrible look. And it can have real-world consequences - there are a few filmmakers who I've seen publicly slag off other people's work, and I quietly decided never to hire them. Like I said, it's a small town... and most of us read what people say about our work.

We should get back to that work, remember how lucky we all are to do this for a living, and leave that kind of thing to the critics.

#filmmaking #criticism #boy do I miss Roger Ebert

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ohbo-ohno · 5 months

Note

.. that purge playlist screenshot got me thinking..

the annual purge has started. Soap is confident in himself, staying alive tonight. Locked up in his home, which is out of the way and secured properly(he’s an explosives expert, what did you expect?), so, yeah! He’s making it through. He already does enough killing in his job, he doesn’t want to spend leave doing what he’s no doubt gonna do when he gets back.

all’s well, it’s late, and Soap’s getting ready to head off to bed in his basement. Simple, easy, super secure. He’d hear anyone trying to get in, and his weapons are right at his side! An easy night! .. right?

it’s late. Or early? It’s still dark out when he jolts awake to a crash. Did- did something just break? Where was it? He climbed out of his little makeshift bed, grabbing his gun, just in case.

goes upstairs, there’s nothing there.. musta been a ‘coon! Yeah.

except, it wasn’t. When Soap gets back down into the basement after doing a quick patrol of the house, someone’s down there. A big hulking someone who looks.. familiar.

before he can put his finger on it, that big someone lunges for him, pulling Soap’s back against his big chest as he wraps his hands wrap around his throat, cutting off his air.

that’s when it hits him. That smell. That’s Ghost’s cologne!

uhhh the brainworms stopped brainworming so blah blah Soap wakes up, groggy and chained to a bed. Not his own. Tries to look around, all he sees is the large bed he’s laying on in a dark room. maybe an hour or so later, someone comes down into the room. Ghost. Mmmmakes a comment about how Soap was out longer than he thought he would be, how he should have closed the door behind him going back down into his basement, uhhhhahhdsh yeah

(this is really fucking long I’m so sorry feel free to ignore I JUST HAD TO GET THIS OUT sorry if you don’t want long things like this sent into your inbox 😭😭)

-👑

that purge playlist is because im writing a ghoap x reader purge au (that i hope to have finished today) for the love of my life lumi

there's soooo much you can do with a purge au!!! you could have ghost use soap as basically a hunting dog, dragging victims to his master for him to kill. you could have reader as a bonkers insane murderer who ghoap become obsessed with after see her kill someone. you could have poor ol' johnny get taken and kidnapped :/

i loooooove your idea, and i'll add a tiny little layer to it if you don't mind:

maybe johnny's a barista and ghost is one of his regulars. he comes in at the same time everyday (not super weird at a coffee shop) and always waits in johnny's line, even if the other line is shorter. he's intense and creepy as hell, barely ever speaking - as soon as johnny figured out his regular order, he stopped speaking at all. he gives johnny heebie-jeebies, but he tips like $20 every day, so whatever

except the day of the purge, he finally speaks. says something super generic like "goin' out tonight?" and johnny gives back an easy answer (no, i'm no fool, smth like that), and ghost says "good. make sure you don't leave your place. never know who you might run into out there."

which like. creepy, but no creepier than ghost (which is the name he always gives, and there's no way it's his actual name yeah?) has ever been. johnny brushes it off, forgets it by lunch

and of course, simon is very glad to see his boy listened to him when he stops by his apartment that night and sees he's locked in. too bad he couldn't afford a better security system

#👑 anon #i love my ghoap anons #asks and answers #ghoap #purge au

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strangerpringle · 2 months

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Ok so I have this au that’s basically just The Owl House but Huntric is a side plot- (it’s gonna be a long one)

So in this au Hunter WAS Edric’s date, but they broke up behind the scenes after Knock Knock Knoking on Hooty’s Door, and we get a hint that they hand a thing in Reaching Out when Edric is stirring the potion, he’s looking at his phone and King asks what he’s looking at, he gets all embarrassed and puts it away, but not before we cut to a picture of him and Hunter being all happy n stuff. Then we find out in Labyrinth Runners that they used to date, but according to Edric Hunter was too focused on his Golden Guard duties to put effort into the relationship and Edric dumped him, and they’re both kinda salty and sad about it then blah blah blah plot happens. Now during Thanks to Them Hunters realizing he thinks he still has feelings for Edric, but Belos is being Belos and doesn’t wanna leave this poor kid alone so that starts to occupy Hunters mind (literally) so we don’t get much Huntric until For the Future. SO NOW during For the Future the hexsquad is back at Hexside, but now Edric and Emira are working with Matt and Jerbo, (also Jerbo and Emira are dating because I think they’d be cute together) Emira is taking care of the younger kids while Edric is trying to make weapons with potions, and Hunter takes notice of this. So Edric is VERY relieved that Hunter is alive because he knew that Hunter has a sigil. Now they’re actually talking and they both start realizing how much they’ve both changed, now Emira knows Edric still has feelings for Hunter, so she sends them to get more food from the supply closet, now they’re alone and can finally talk. While they’re talking Hunter says he’s confused why he ever went out with him in the first place, Edric tells him that he could tell that he was hiding his true self from the world, Edric would love the moments when Hunter would accidentally start to ramble about things he likes, but be heartbroken when he would catch it and stop himself, and move on to do whatever work he had that day. Edric wanted nothing more then for Hunter to let him see the real Hunter, but he never did, it hurt too much so he had to leave him. I’m that moment all Hunter wants to do now is tell Edric all about what he’s learned about himself in the human realm-AND OOP they almost kiss because feelings, but Edric stops them and is all like “haha uhh we should get all this good back to the others.” But while Edric’s on his way out the door, Hunter gets taken back to the moment when Edric broke up with him and his only thought is “I cant lose him again” AND MUAAHH HE KISSES EDRIC THEN EDRIC KISSES HIM BACK AND ITS CUTE IM GONNA CRYYY AAAHHHHHHH-anyway, so cut to the end of the episode where Luz now has her palisman, Edric comes up to Hunter and asks “So, you wanna give this another shot? :)” and Hunter says “When this whole mess is over, I’ll take you on a proper date, the human realm is really nice actually, I think you’d like it!” Edric replies “…I’d like that a lot <3” “Cool *they hold hands* can’t wait❤️” AND WE SEE THEM HAPPY AND IN LOVE IN THE EPILOGUE THE END YAY :D💞💞💞

#the owl house #the owl house au #huntric #toh hunter #edric blight #hunter x edric #edric x hunter

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calmthefuckdownalright · 1 year

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Can I request different Wilbur variety’s with a reader who is very peaceful and dislikes violence?

Ooooh...pascifist reader. Ultimate innocence against our unhinged lover boy? Don't. Mind. If. I. Do.

Warnings: Does not follow the Dream SMP Season 1 Timeline very well

><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

L'manbur

Now Wilbur in the beginning wishes he could've done this without violence.

And then y'know...things escalated and that changed drastically.

You had been an adoring face for ages to the General and imagine his surprise when the one he loved nearly vomited at the sight of a gash along his cheek

"Darling?! Darling are you okay?! Is it the blood? I can go wash it off really quickly!"

No it wasn't the blood you would confess

It was that you couldn't stand the thought of him going out and fighting for his life and passion.

You would explain and things would twist.

Wilbur would turn to more negotiating terms much to Tommy's dismay

An agreement would be reached on shaky terms and bows and swords would be at the ready.

An unsteady treaty with fine lines and disagreeable terms on the L'manberg side but it kept things at ease for a long while. A while enough that Wilbur could figure out a way to finish this cold war quickly.

Needless to say the word ‘war’ is used and war always means violence, which you did not like.

Wilbur was careful in his attacks and being the clever fellow he is was able to manage independence under the guise of many many zombie, creeper, and even skeleton “accidents”

Wilbur would go to any lengths for those and that of which he loves, and if that means hiding a few bombs and traps behind unknowing enemy lines then so be it.

Alivebur (AKA Vil!bur)

He loves you no doubt

And he hates it when you despair and worry and fret and blah blah blah

It makes his gut turn and his head pound

He knows there’s no other way to finish this. No other way to “save” L’manberg

He’s ready to give it all up with whatever it takes

Wilbur wishes you weren’t like this

He wishes you didn’t choke on air when you smelled gunpowder and blood on his clothes

“I know baby, I’m sorry, please forgive me.”

He tells you this so much it might as well be tattooed on his tongue.

Then he finally blows it all up and he does it right to your face.

You don’t grieve for him very long as the reminder of his violence drowned away and built over.

Ghostbur (Follows Vilbur)

Ghostbur doesn’t like violence much either and is constantly agreeing with you

It’s strange and wonderful how different Ghostbur is from the Wilbur you knew

“Let’s look away okay? Here come play with Friend for a bit and I’ll come get you when it’s all over!”

You followed him to Logstedshire (I hope I spelt that right) and endured the days and nights that Dream visited while you and Ghostbur did as well

You helped him forge the compasses and couldn’t help but think:

Maybe Wilbur dying was the best thing that could’ve happened for you.

It isn’t long before you and Ghostbur are in a relationship

One that didn’t fight but talked out their issues

One that communicated and avoided conflict, even if it meant burying it in the past.

“What’s worse, hearing BadBoyHalo say fuck or blowing up an entire nation?”

Now when THIS happens?

“I did what?”

It isn’t long before Quackity is on your shit list. A dislike of violence isn’t a dislike of hate

It takes about a week to get Ghostbur out of that stupor and even then he’s fingering blue and apologizing for the littlest things.

Philza steps in and tries to help.

Really in turn of Ghostbur dealing with a reader who dislikes violence it’s more of Reader helping Ghostbur with his violent past

Simpbur/Yanderebur

Alright, you don’t like violence?

He invites you to play racing games and simulations

Animal Crossing on nights you don’t want to go out and flowers and take-out in the park when you do.

Simpbur knows the world is pretty violent and the fact you dislike it makes his bones tingle every time a stranger cat calls or wolf whistles at you down the street

He’s very discreet with his dealings and tends to sneak away vigilante style when he has a target pinned.

“I’ve just got to run to the bathroom love okay? I’ll be back in a bit.”

Comes back with torn knuckles and a cut across his cheek.

“I fell a bit and got a little angry. Please don’t be sad, I’m okay.”

Of course in situations like this sometimes violence is unavoidable.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

...well then

How’s everyone doing? Happy New Year’s and I’m gonna go collapse with my cat before I do it here.

#c!wilbur x reader #c!wilbur #c!wilbur soot #simpbur x reader #alivebur #vilbur x reader #l'manbur x reader #ghostbur #ghostbur x reader #dsmp #dream smp headcanons #it doesn't follow the story but oh well

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kankuroplease · 1 month

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can you tell us what happened after Ringo and Wolgang's marriage, their daily lives, when they had their first child and especially how many children did they have?+ their leave Konoha ?

I have a few quick HCs about those things~

The first thing to happen was Wolfgang placed her Uchiha robes under the floorboards of their home as she was an Inuzuka now, but he thought it would be a shame to burn them like she had wanted to

Ringo dedicated a good amount of time trying to figure out Wolfgang’s hair color sections and realized his stubble is even two toned

Wolfgang learned that Ringo snores in an adorable manner when she’s truly exhausted (he’ll never tell her that she snores as she very proud that she doesn’t)

Her cat did not like his ninken but, he eventually all got along with them after being forced to train together by Wolfgang

Ringo thinks it’s funny how serious Wolfie is about cleaning and tries to keep up with his cleanliness

Which he appreciates, but still does majority of the cleaning for his own sanity

He gives her foot massages whenever she seems stressed as those seem to relax her down and he can better contain himself unlike with back messages

They often stay up late when the night sky is clear to appreciate the stars and moon with some nice snacks and sake

She still teases him often by helping him clean up while wearing something revealing or by asking him to wash her back for her innocently

He ends up having to mend whatever he’s torn because she often wears his clothes while tempting him in that manner

They are a possissive (and somewhat jealous) pair which does lead to some negative reactions when Wolfgang sees another man eyeing his woman on her or when Ringo catches some other woman wagging her tail around her man

It’s not that they don’t trust each other; they both just view it as disrespectful for someone else to hit on their partner

Nothing a few kisses and a quick dismissal can’t fix to make it clear they’re a pair and not looking for a third

Outside their happy home; the Inuzuka ladies were eager to bring Ringo into their group of friends and teach her more of their ways

Wolfgang got her a puppy and the girls joked (it’s not really a joke) that he was getting her ready for a baby

Ringo is very much happy with her new life but is bothered that she still has to answer to her older brothers or they’re brought up in decision making (I.e. “Madara does think it’s a good time—“ , “Izuna said—“ blah blah blah she doesn’t care)

Their first child wasn’t planned necessarily but was very expected and welcomed into the world about a year and half after their wedding

Her mother came and helped with their first son

After the birth of their second child, Ebba decided it was time for her homeland and Ringo saw it as an opportunity to establish her own life away from her brother’s watchful eyes

Ebba only agreed to take them because she was attached to her grandchildren, she still told them it was probably a bad idea though given her people are welcoming, but rough around the edges Ringo didn’t listen

It wasn’t an easy decision given her family didn’t want her to leave and she’s never been away from them for more than a couple of months here and there

but she set her mind to it and promised to stay in touch with everyone before setting off

It was quite the journey to get to Ebba’s homeland and Wolfgang was surprised to see so many Inuzuka there as well

Ebba like “boy, we merged. Of course there’s Inuzuka’s here too!”

Ringo picked up on their language fast and taught their children how to speak it as well, even though it wasn’t necessary given they also spoke hers, but that earned her and Wolfgang’s little family kudos

Wolfgang gets teased that she speaks it better than him

It’s there they have the rest of their bunch. Six pregnancies leading to eight kids 🐾

#ask #kpz naruto founder au #OC: ringo uchiha #OC: Wolfgang Inuzuka #knfau 🖼️#my art #Wolfgang x Ringo

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some-of-us-watch-the-sunset-too · 11 months

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hi!! i understand if you don’t feel comfortable writing this but could you maybe do a lil thing where someone from the gang realizes reader tried to like. die. and the gang kinda comforts them? again u don’t need to lol

Mental health with the boys

A/N: i’ve got these two asks that are kinda similar so i’m gonna write a bit of a combination of the two. i’ll also say i’m not very yk- all knowing when it comes to this stuff so i’m only taking from my own experiences.

Tags: angsty fluff maybe?

if you told him you were struggling with your mental health Darry would most likely be the most sensible of the boys in the sense that he’d help you find a therapist over just helping you deal with stuff himself. he’d always be there for you when you needed him and he’d help you come up with coping mechanisms. if it was an ED he might make a meal plan with you and you could come over to the curtis’ every evening for dinner if that helped you to eat. he wouldn’t put pressure to eat though of course.

Soda would be like darry in some ways but also he wouldn’t be in other ways. If he found out you were struggling he would be the most caring and supportive person ever in your healing journey. i honestly doubt that a therapist would be his first thought process but it might come a little later. i think he’d try to keep things lighthearted for the most part to try and help you maybe to forget your problems for a little while when you’re together.

Ponyboy, oh poor pony. he really wouldn’t know what to do, especially since he’s so young. he’d try to comfort you hand help as much as he can but he would most likely go to darry for advice on what to do. the one thing i think he’d do well is noticing when you’re getting anxious or something. maybe you tap your foot or bounce your knee, maybe you fiddle with your pen or switchblade or something. whatever it is he’d notice and when he does notice these things, he probably won’t say anything but he’d put his hand on your arm and then if he knew that you didn’t mind hugs when you were anxious he’d hug you.

Dally..as much as i wanna say “he’d be so supportive and always there for you blah blah blah” he wouldn’t really. i mean he’d try to understand but since he’s spent his whole life burying his emotions and ignoring his problems that he wouldn’t know where to begin when trying to help someone else. because of that he’d go to darry for help, so then like i said in darry’s section he’d help you find a councillor or a therapist or something. one thing that i like to think is that when you come home from your therapy sessions that you talk about stuff like coping mechanisms that you can use and then dal would start trying to use them. in some way, you’d be learning how to heal together.

Two-Bit ml, he’d be very different than you might think he would. i mean in the film specifically (in my opinion) he’s presented as always joking and quite frankly- dumb. in the book he is presented similarly but he has a few moments where he can get very philosophical even (dk if that’s the right word or not) when he talks about what life is like for the greasers. given these i think that Two would be very helpful, i honestly think that he secretly has his own stuff going on so he might be able to relate to how you feel and he would 100% help as much as possible. same as pony he’d notice what you do when you get anxious so he’d be first to help you when you do.

I love Steve but if you started crying in front of him he’d be so awkward. he doesn’t really- get sad. he gets angry instead. so he has no clue what to do when someone cries in front of him. he’d go to soda for help on what to do. then soda would go to darry and basically what he does it what darry would do. just like dally over time he’d start to adopt the coping mechanisms you learned and he’d start dealing with his own things too. he’d start journaling. don’t ask why, he just would.

Johnny…well as always with johnny im kinda stumped so ignore how bad this is ok? johnnys sweet, but he’s dealing with so much he just finds it hard to help you yk? you two would lay in the lot and vent to each other but i don’t know if either of you would help each other too much? i say maybe you would convince each other to get professional help n stuff though. in school you two would sneak off together if one of you needed to get away from everything for a bit. again like some of the others, you’d learn to heal together, only this time you’re both aware of it. unlike dal and steve who would try to hide it.

#the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #dallas winston #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #johnny cade #steve randle #two-bit mathews #dallas winston x reader #ponyboy x reader #johnny cade x reader #steve randle x reader #darry curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #two bit x reader #darry x reader #sodapop curtis x reader

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valeovalairs · 8 months

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A Riptide AU that I came up with

Some pretty big spoilers for Riptide Episode #109, please don’t read further you have been warned.

Okay, I know episode 109 JUST came out, and Niklaus is probably going to fix Chibo, -with a price and conditions blah blah blah most likely but like, hopefully he’ll be fine and get his heart back… hopefully, maybe, I hope he’ll be okay- but I had an idea.

Or more like I came up with an entire AU in my head halfway through the episode as it really started to sink in that Chip is now undead (at least he’s not dead dead yk, thought he was for like two seconds). (Mind you I thought of this while things were really starting to seem hopeless and before Niklaus became a possibility.)

Okay first of all, Chip has a bandana that could change his appearance right? I’m pretty sure he still has that right? That’s going to be important later.

May I present to you: The Legend of the Immortal Riptide Pirate.

So say Chip never gets fixed. They’re able to successfully leave (idk how but they do) and eventually they escape the Black Sea (maybe they’ve fixed it, that would be great and ideal), but Chip is still undead, and for all they know they can’t heal him, he’s stuck like that forever. He begins to constantly use the disguise bandana to just look like himself. Alive. (So no one besides the crew knows he’s undead)

The Riptide Pirates keep going, but time passes. Everyone gets older, years go by, and Chip is still the same. He never will change. He’s 19 and he will always look 19. They live their lives. But eventually Chip is the last one (this gets a little sad I’M SORRY). He doesn’t take on another crew, and the Riptide Pirates become something of a legend.

People begin to whisper about the Riptide Pirates, or Pirate. How he mans the ship alone, and some might even say he’s immortal, as people from decades ago remember hearing of him. And seeing him. He’s seen occasionally, docking the Albatross, and doing something piratey. Usually he helps people. (I just thought of this I don’t have specific details), usually he messes with the Navy and Raft (because they don’t die either apparently, so he’s made it his mission to screw them over as much as possible)

At this point where the AU really would kick off it’s been decades maybe even a whole century or more since the events of Riptide. There’s a Ferin descendant, and she’s heard stories of her ancestor Jay Ferin, who was apart of the original Riptide Pirates crew, back when there was a crew, and how she sailed with the Legendary Riptide Pirate. She’s her hero. Her family is trying to rope her into Raft, to send her off like to Navy school or whatever. She wants none of that but they aren’t really giving her a choice. So she’s there, probably in All-Port, and she’s trying to come up with a way to get out. She knows her ancestor used to be a Riptide Pirate, and she knows THE Riptide Pirate is still drifting around. So she has an idea. She wants to be a Riptide Pirate. She begins to plan her escape.

Meanwhile, the Undersea had a new Chosen One. She’s meant to do what the previous Champion didn’t do. She’s completely just for ceremonial purposes, and she isn’t actually THE chosen one, there was only one, but the Undersea pretends to have another one because they don’t know what else to do- the Elders keep this fact secret. She hates it, but she’s known nothing else. The Undersea decides to show her off, diplomatic stuff (what exactly, I’m not entirely sure atm). She’s in All-Port and above on land for the first time ever. It’s incredible. And for the first time ever, she sees a way out.

The day the Champion is in All-Port coincides with the day the Ferin decides to make her break for it, there’s supposed to be a lot of commotion with the Chosen One and Undersea Elders which should help them get away and give them some time. The Ferin gets out and begins to weave her way through the city, heading for the docks. The Champion had got out too, but she hadn’t really thought that far ahead and doesn’t know where to go or what to do. She’s just wandering around late at night by herself, clearly lost and a little scared- because she can’t get caught she doesn’t want to go back. The Champion runs into the Ferin who instantly recognizes them as the Chosen One and is confused and panics a little because what is the chosen one doing here? The chosen one is supposed to be on the other side of the city and being the chosen one and distracting everyone not here. They both realize they’re trying to leave, and after a quick conversation the two of them run off together, because the Riptide Pirate had known the first Chosen One, they had been friends and co-captains. He could help her, help them both get away. He would understand. So they leave.

The Ferin has a small ship that she’d be able to handle herself, or maybe she steals it idk. They go off together. Eventually they dock at one port (I’m thinking Zero- they know from asking around that he frequents Zero) and then they wait. And once they know he’s there and docked, they sneak onto his ship.

Chip is very surprised to find the Champion of the Undersea and a Ferin together on the Albatross once again.

(That’s as far as i thought but I think it’s pretty cool- I may or may not work on this some more)

#I’ve been going nuts since the episode first dropped #Jrwi #chip jrwi #jrwi riptide #Jrwi episode 109 #Jrwi episode 109 spoilers #Jrwi riptide spoilers #jrwi riptide au #I could end up writing this eventually maybe #Or drawing it #I have so many wips already though #What’s one more #legend of the riptide pirate au

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