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ebaylee422 · 1 year

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Decking the Halls

Steve Harrington X Girlfriend!reader

Author’s Note: Angst to cute sex, I’m not sorry. This is post Season 3, pre Season 4. I just love being angsty. I also really needed to clear my drafts soooo X-mas in March everyone!

Summary: Stockings aren’t the only things being stuffed this Christmas season. Steve has never decorated for Christmas, he’s embarrassed and doesn’t want to ruin your sprit by avoiding you. Don’t worry though, he shows you just how appreciative he is after.

Characters: Steve Harrington, Girlfriend reader, mentions of shitty parents and the rest of the ST nuggets. Best Friend Robin Buckley!!

Warnings/Tags: Smut (Minors DNI!!!) abandonment issues? as an intro, p in v sex, marking kink, praise kink, fem oral (receiving). breeding?

Word Count: 3k

Part One/?

You had tried everything to get Steve into the Christmas spirit: buying decorations for your apartment, getting matching pj’s, going to watch the lights in Indianapolis, watching Christmas movies, the Ice-Skating was most regrettable because you fell forward and knocked your teeth hard enough to bleed. Even planning a white elephant with him and his friends, sharing hot cocoa and warmth of your space heater. What you didn’t know is as soon as he left your place he was greeted by his parents' empty house. Decorated from some stupid trendy catalog his mother only glanced at before swiping a credit card. His father, not even home long enough to realize the tinsel monstrosity within the living room. The presents underneath were fake, they stopped being real when his father told him to grow up. That Santa wasn’t real, saying he needed to start giving instead of hoping for some joy from a fat man each holiday season. So that’s exactly what he did, the first Christmas he’d enjoyed in a long time was on Christmas of 83’, when he was with Nancy. They’d gotten each other meaningful gifts, it was the happiest Christmas he thought he’d ever had. Even if he went home unable to look at his pool outside for too long knowing his friend had died. Even if there were disgusting monsters trying to eat his friends when they had the chance. How horrible humans were in comparison, like the Russians nearly beating him to death at Starcourt. Instead of celebrating what he was thankful for, he felt immense guilt every holiday. He’d confided in you once about his survivor's guilt, as you had called it a couple months ago during an intense flashback. You’d comfort him, make sure he wasn’t alone. He didn’t want to be anyone’s burden, Steve knew you were worried about him it would show whenever he ‘had’ to leave for work or Robin’s, or get clothes from his place.

It all came to a standstill when you’d asked him if he would come pick a Christmas Tree with you. Wanting to have it up before the kids came over, finish decking-the-halls you’d told him. Only Steve didn’t know what picking out a Christmas Tree was, sure it’s self explanatory but what if he made a fool of himself. With his pretty rich boy ‘I’ve never had to pick one out’, it seemed too intimate. Sure you’d bared your body-mind-and-soul to him, but wanting to do something so domestic together like picking out a Christmas Tree. For your first Christmas together as a couple, it was scary for him. So instead of being a Scrooge so he could work on his feelings, he faked an illness even going as far as calling out sick today. Keith hadn’t been too happy but chopped it up to Steve sucking too much face on the job and gave him the day anyway. And he was back to square one, an empty ugly house with none of your warmth. People would think his middle name was self-sabotage, especially when that door-bell rang. He got up from his cocoon from the coach with a groan, an aching shooting up to his spine when his socked feet hit the freezing hardwood. Shined and renewed for the inevitable party his parents would throw this Christmas Eve for work friends, where they forgot they even had a son. He stopped dead in his tracks shaking the sleep from his eyes when they were met with yours, holding a tote bag while shaking the light dusty of snow off your figure. It melted into your skin leaving you shiny with the dew, nose and ears kissed pink while your chin and neck were tucked tightly with the collar of your coat and scarf. You smiled at him as he studied your form, like an angel sent just for him. He was bundled up in simple joggers, thick wool socks and heavy blanket around his shoulders worn like a cape tucked around his body, but shirtless still despite it being nearly as cold inside as it is outside. Shaking your body of the remaining snow, laying the tote bag of groceries and sick necessities you’d brought over on the stairs so you could slide out of your heavy snow covered boots.

“Hi baby, how r’ you feeling?” you asked him with a voice full of sticky sweetness and adoration. His face changed in that moment from shock to guilty, you felt the change floating in the air like oil through water.

“What are you doing here?” He asked louder than either of you had expected, causing you to turn his way fully as you began to undo the ties of your coat.

“I came to check on you, bring you some-”

“Why?” He scoffed, tucking the blanket to cover himself from the breezing air flow of the open hall. You were wearing a red corduroy skirt, with black stocking underneath and a cream sweater that didn’t even compare to how soft your hair was laid across your shoulders. You looked at him like he hung up the stars, even though you were the brightest thing about his life.

“Robin called me worried about you saying you called out because you were sick. So I canceled the tree plans to come check on you because you didn’t call me. I even whipped up some Chicken and Rice soup and scrunched up a couple medicines.”

“You shouldn’t have done that, I’m fine Y/N. You should go get your tree and I’ll see you on Friday like you planned.” he brushed off your kindness,

“Well I wanted to take care of you.” you told him shyly, "You haven't been around as often."

“Okay thanks.” he shook his head, body and tone still uncomfortable and unmatched of your own tenderness.

“Do you not want me here or something?” You scoffed with affection grabbing the bag from the stairs, stepping in front of him giddy with untamable affection.

“No.” He answered quickly and when your face dropped, his own heart went with it when you backed away from him. “No, I mean yes but not right now. I’m just-”

“It’s fine, Steve." You cut him off, turning away and grabbing your stuff. "I get it, I’m sorry I could’ve called.” he stopped you putting out his hand as an olive branch. You took it without hesitation, sniffling away the tears that built up for weeks of you arguing and avoiding each other.

“Don’t you dare apologize, especially to me.” He took your reddened cheeks in his hands as he pressed a kiss to your temple, “I’m just being an idiot, I’m sorry but I’m not even sick so you doing all this nice shit over-”

“I know you’re not sick, Steve. You’re a terrible faker.” You said factually, with a teasing tone. Still not looking at him but rather at your wiggling toes against the shiny floor.

“Oh really now? Robin didn’t tell you anything.”

“Well the strange, ‘Steve wanted my shift the same day he always has off’ the one day I could go tree picking with you. Then calling out and claiming illness, and not calling me is pretty obvious.” You let the bag fall again, his shoulders relaxed as you tugged on the length of his blanket. “Are you breaking up with me?” you asked with furrowed brows and a whimper to your voice.

“No!” Steve yelled, “No never no, I-I love you so much. You are my favorite everything Y/N.” He wrapped you both in the blanket tugging you flush against him. “I just have a hard time with the holidays, I don’t really know what to do with myself. I didn’t want to be embarrassed, it was a lot of pressure.” You both held each other silently letting the fear wash over both of you, until you giggled into his neck.

“I love you, Steve. Honestly, just talking to me would’ve saved us both a headache.” He sighed heavy as he wrapped his arms tighter around you, head resting on your chin.

“Jeez, what are we gonna do with me?” he whispered into your scalp, the fluffy hair on his chest tickling your cheek as you were held by his heart.

“I can think of one.” You pursed your lips, closing your eyes with your chin held high awaiting a kiss. He obliged you immediately, cupping your cheeks in his hands to accurately press his lips to yours. His hands were freezing, sending a shiver and gasp involuntarily out of you. Steve took the opportunity to lick into your mouth, tasting-ly. Pulling back before you could reciprocate, you whined gripping his biceps accidentally pushing off his blanket.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, nose brushing against yours.

"I didn't mean to pressure you, you just seem so sad."

"You make me happy."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, you could meet me in an ice cream shop above a secret Russian base. While enjoying strawberry more than chocolate ice cream and you'll still make me happy."

"Well, if our circumstances of meeting are the worst part of the relationship, I think that's a pretty good incentive to making better more normal memories, yeah?"

"Maybe." He kissed the tip of your still pink nose.

"Maybe, we could go back to my place? It's always freezing here." You added with a shiver making the hairs on your arms stand up.

"Not when you're here. Just stay here a second longer." His lips moved with their own incentive. It didn't take much convincing on either of your parts before you were upstairs in his room. A path of clothes thrown haphazardly off of each other through broken giggles and soft kisses, until your just in under clothes. He holds you to him as he opens the door to his room, and your feet barely touch the floor as he twirls the two of you around. Bringing you down with him as he falls backward on the bed with a thud. Kissing you with fondness, sweet like the honey color of his eyes. You loved him so much it hurt like the side pains after laughing so hard you teared up. Like when you realize that magic might not be real but people were and kindness. Kindness and compassion were the real magic. People found a reason to be with each other, even if it was once a year. Steve never had that. Everything in his life was transactional, Christmas, school, his parents, most other relationships. Those few closet to him probably haven't ever seen this side either. The checkered boy room with little to no traces of living aside from Steve's nightstand with Polaroids of everyone scattered about. A bin in his closet kept hidden away where he'd kept his Scoops Ahoy name tag, a letter from a pen-pal in sixth grade, ticket stubs of every drive in movie. Some more Polaroids for his eyes only you'd given him after you first started dating, and he'd left his shirt in your room. Even as you lay on top of him now, kisses sucked into your neck, his strong hands massaging your sides in worship. You couldn't help what words came out next.

"Come with me." You begged him breathlessly opening your eyes to see his lips swollen and slick, hair haloed and shaggy around his face and sheets. Like melting caramel against the ugly grey and navy bedding.

"Already babe, I haven't even touched you." He mumbled rocking his pelvis into yours, forcing your legs to accommodate him more with a thigh on either side of his hips. You sat up taller straddling him, a pout etched into your face.

"No, I mean. Come home with me, lets live together. I'll get rid of things you can bring whatever you want, I can dip into my tuition nest egg and buy whatever we need for the apartment. Make it yours too, or we can find another one that you like better. I just want you all to myself." He sat up holding onto your waist so you didn't fall, making you squeak with the shift in position. Your heart sank as his eyes were so wide they could've jumped out of his skull.

“What?” he asked as his breath caught in his throat, a pure swell of undoubtable happiness warming him from the tip of his nose down to his sock covered feet.

“It’s just, I wasn’t lying Stevie. I wanna take care of you, you give so much to every-” He kissed you, desperately. Teeth clashing and tongues forming together making you dizzy enough to loose balance upright on your knees. Pulling back to gasp for air, a string of spit connecting you to him. He wiped it away, tucking his head into your chest.

“You’re perfect. I’ll do anything to make you happy.”

“Even picking out a Christmas Tree with me?”

“I will grow you a damn Christmas Tree, even better I’ll get the kids to help me chop down one in my backyard!”

“Stevie! That’s dangerous.”

“Well, sweets.

Danger.

Is.

My middle name.” He trailed four kisses down your body, stopping just shy of your covered mound. Hooking his fingers under the band of your underwear, biting your hip making you buck up long enough for him to shimmy them off your legs.

“I thought your middle name was Alexander?”

“You won’t your own name once I’m done with you.” He said sultry, kneeling at the foot of the bed. Yanking your ankles to bring you closer to his mouth, spreading your legs wide and over his shoulders. You were beautiful, regardless what you were doing but letting him take care of you. Make you feel good and be vulnerable, made his head spin. Your lips were sticky with arousal, he could smell your sweet nectar begging for him to taste you. Marks still slightly visible from last time, he started there sucking and biting the mailable flesh.

“Stevie, please-” You cried out, hands trying to find purchase with his. He stopped sucking a bruise, eyes blown wide when he found yours. Locking your hands to your sides,

“Your so sweet, baby. Asking so nicely.” He chastely kissed on your hood, tongue licking underneath to wet and flick at your clit. You groaned and threw you head back, “So sweet, baby. Keep your legs open for me. I have a lot of apologizing to do down here.”

“Stevie, no I want you. Please.” You writhed on the bed trying to keep your legs spread for him, he blew cool air at your entrance causing you to clench around nothing. You body craved to be filled, senses overwhelmed of one thing: Steve, Steve, Steve!

“Just wanna warm you up, we have all the time in the world sweets. Wanna wreck this bed before leaving.” He was antagonizing you, teasing with his pretty words and slightly movements you couldn’t even respond him. He licked a line from your entrance to your clit, groaning at your taste. Hips colliding with the end of his bed to relieve pressure as he sucked your clit into his mouth. Rolling the bud with his tongue, your nail dug into his knuckles as you shook with ecstasy.

“ ‘S so good, Stevie. Don’t stop-” You were so pent up from earlier all it took was a few more rolls of his tongue against you and for you to fall apart. Concentrating on keeping your legs open for him, as he licked you clean. Nudging his nose against your sensitive clit, he let go of one of your hands tangling it in his hair.

“Hold it out of my face, baby. I want one more before I cum inside you.” He coated his fingers with your release, slowly sliding in one as his tongue still fucked into you. You couldn’t help rocking your hips against his face when he added another finger inside you. Scissoring, stretching you and rubbing against your spongy spot. You tugged at his locks when he came back up to suck at your clit again, you didn’t even notice the heat break in your belly until you gushed and clenched around his fingers. You pushed at his forehead from sensitivity, barely able to catch your breath when you pulled him up to kiss you. lips and chins dripping of you. Trailing your nails down his soft tummy following the happy trail underneath his boxers, you met him halfway stroking his thick cock with your slick. Still coating his hand, pre-cum dripping from his tip making the sounds completely pornographic.

“ ‘m not gonna last baby, want you so bad.” He whispered against your lips, breathing heavy with a sheen of sweat layering you both in the smell of sex.

“Need you too, wanted you ages ago.” You sassed, making him laugh against your cheek as he stood. You wrapped your legs around his waist, his cock twitched when it brushed against the inside of your thigh.

“You gotta big mouth on you, sweet girl.”

“You better do something about it, Harrington.” With a roguish grin he ran his length over your clit once before pushing ever so slightly inside. Taking your breaths away, you were the girl and only girl who could take Steve’s fat cock completely. He just has to ease you into it, inch by inch until his hip bone grazed the back of your thighs. Steve stood tall and far enough away you couldn’t kiss him from where you were sprawled out under him. You pulled and squeezed at your breasts still contained by your bra. His cock glistening with your slick as he pulled his hips back, then pushing deeper inside his sack pressed tight against your ass. Steve nearly loss his balance when you clenched around him, putting his hands under your knees. Folding you in half made it feel like he was in your throat, he leaned over you the pressure of his body as he set a ruthless pace set flames in your abdomen. Pounding his cock into you over and over again moaning out praises as he bullied all the way to your cervix. Punching breaths out of you watching as your tits bounced, you had enough pulling him fully on top you. Hands indenting his shoulders as your hips met his, clit pulsing and with need.

“You feel so good. Shit, shit- I’m cumming, cumming inside.” Steve’s core tighten as he ran two finger over your clit, heat erupted across your body. You milked Steve dry, his warm seed and your three orgasms dripping from each others groin. You pulled him on top of you, comforted by his weight on you as his cock softened inside you.

“Do you really want too?” You asked in the post orgasm bliss, running a hair through his now tangled locks. “I don’t want to trap you with amazing sex and joy but it’s definitely a perk.” Steve rose onto his elbows, still seated inside you. Brushing the hair out of your face, with softness.

“I’m sure we can wreck this bed a lot more than just cum stains.” Pushing at his chest, he pulled out of you gently. Scurrying to his bathroom where you listened as he turned on the faucet in the shower. Sitting up, he came back with all his glory. Hand raised for you to take, the same olive branch you’d given him at Starcourt. All this time. “I can’t wait to spend Christmas in our home, together.”

You’d never been so excited to spend the holidays with anyone else.

Masterlist

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things season 3 #oneshot #no minors allowed #reader insert #tis the season #holiday themed

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daisyblog · 1 year

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Carpool Karaoke

When We Were Young Masterlist Summary: One Direction help James get to work.

“Hey man, hey mate..it’s me. Listen..I’m in a real bind traffic-wise, I know you’re in town, is there any way you’ll just be able to help me get to work?...Ugh are you serious?..Alright…yeah I’ll see you in two minutes okay” James spoke into his phone whilst sitting in the driver's seat of the car.

The passenger's side door opened and James greeted Niall “Hey man..thanks..thanks for this..I really appreciate it. The traffic...”, James was interrupted with the back door of the car opening with Louis entering, “James”.

“I only need one” James tried to explain but YN, Harry and Liam followed behind Louis and began to get comfy in the backseats, “I really don’t need everyone...Waaw” James said whilst looking confused at the entire band sitting in the car. Despite YN and Louis not being on the best of terms right now, since they broke up, they both put their media training to use and wear their best fake smiles as they were told they had to sit next to each other, to avoid fans and press thinking they were anything but civil right now.

“The more the merrier right?” Niall asked James.

“I guess, I guess..yeah, alright”

"Make sure you get your belts on" Louis spoke next to YN as he reached for his seatbelt behind him. There wasn't much room in the back so YN was squished between Harry and Louis, so she leaned forward in her seat, one for more space and two so she could avoid looking at her ex-boyfriend.

"If anyone needs a wee-" James said.

"I need a wee" YN joked, hoping James might stop the car to allow her to change spots.

"Hold it" James instructed, making YN pout "Do you mind if we listen to some music"

From her place between Louis and Harry, YN began to shout “One, two, three”

The whole band and James began to sing…

You're insecure, don't know what for You're turning heads when you walk through the door Don't need makeup to cover up Being the way that you are is enough

Everyone else in the room can see it Everyone else, but you, ooh Baby, you light up my world like nobody else The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed

But when you smile at the ground, it ain't hard to tell You don't know, oh-oh You don't know you're beautiful

If only you saw what I can see You'll understand why I want you so desperately Right now I'm lookin' at you, and I can't believe You don't know, oh-oh You don't know you're beautiful, oh, oh-oh That's what makes you beautiful

As YN wiggled back slightly because she could feel her seat getting warmer, she could feel Louis' eyes on her but she choose to stay looking in front before she spoke.

“Who the hell put my seat heater on…stop it boys" James and Niall laughed hysterically in the front “My ass is on fire” YN continued, but Louis was quick to turn to look out the window with a smirk on his face.

As James pointed out a car that was following them with some fans inside trying to take photos, Liam explained that the fan had been following him for weeks.

"Is it scary having people find out where you live?" James asked.

"It does get a bit..um..scary when they're kinda like close to your house" Louis began to explain, before turning to YN "Do you remember..that time I tweeted about there being nothing worse than not being able to have a cup of tea in the morning 'cause we didn't have any milk" YN swallowed at Louis mentioning the memory so casually despite them hardly saying two words to each other for what felt like years. "Within an hour...someone's ringing me doorbell..there's like this forty-five-year-old woman..she comes to the door she's like 'here's the milk'..and I'm like aw well thanks love"

Noticing YN dip her head to her eyes are focused on the floor, Harry playfully pinches her hip and she turns her head towards him and he puts up his thumb, a little gesture they do when they want to check that each other is okay.

The band had just done a band harmony with James and the intro of Best Song Ever began. YN, Liam and Harry moved their fists up and down into the air as they were dancing together. “..to the best song ever” James hit Zayn’s high note, and in sync, the whole band stopped and stared at him in shock with the biggest smiles on their faces.

“Go on James..hit that note” YN encouraged and start clapping for him, making James laugh.

“Bands when I was growing up would always do dance routines and wear the same clothes..and you’ve really kicked against that..why?” James asked.

“Because it’s weird” Harry said with a serious expression on his face.

“We just made a decision that we weren’t going to be that band” Niall explained.

Harry interrupted “I think it makes that when at the start people are dancers..and none of us danced”

"Don't put YN into the same category as us for dancing lad" Louis tried to compliment, making YN turn her head to look at him, to which he gave a friendly smile. She knew he was trying to win her back, he'd been trying for weeks but she wishes he would stop saying little things in interviews, on stage and when others were around. It was getting harder each day for her to get over him. Wishful thinking on her behalf.

With an idea already in his head, James suggested the band have a dance routine at some point.

“Why don’t you choreograph it for us and we’ll do it” YN suggested.

“Here’s the thing” James began “You never made a video of No Control..and I think we could make a video with choreography” At the mention of No Control, YN tensed up because it was no secret that Louis had written the song and it wasn't rocket science to know that he had written it about his sex life with YN.

“Alright” Louis agreed.

“Ok..come with me on this” James said before showing the band the actions to each line from the chorus of No Control.

“So you do this…waking up beside you” James instructed whilst leaning his head on his hand and then lifting his head up and pointing forward, each of you copying his actions.

The next action made everyone laugh, “I’m a loaded gun”, James points down to his crotch, all of them copying. YN and Harry glanced at each other with raised eyebrows, wondering what James was going to think of next. Not going unnoticed Louis whispers something into YN's ear, making her roll her eyes at him but fans were quick to point out that whatever Louis had said to her made her lips turn up into a little smile.

“I can’t contain this anymore” with everyone's hands out in front of them. For “there’s no control, no control” James instructed them all to wave their finger out in front of them.

Next, James and Niall gave the band in the back, matching denim jackets to create the video. Everyone performed with sass and really gave the fans what they wanted.

“Do you know the game sleep with, marry, cruise?” James asked and continued to explain the rules of the game.

Niall was first, “Niall I’ll give you three people, you're three are Demi Lovato, Selena Gomez and Tina Fay” James stated with a cheeky grin on his face.

Niall began to think, but it didn’t take him too long “Sleep with Tina Fay”

“Nice” James interrupted with an impressed smile.

“Marry Selena Gomez”

“Good choice, why not”

“And go on..go on a cruise with Demi Lovato” “Great fun, great voice” James stated and was proud of Niall’s choices.

But what fans were really interested in was Louis clearly looking at YN whilst Niall answered and mouthing the words "I'd marry you".

The intro to Perfect began to play and instantly the band all started to sing whilst clapping their hands to the beat.

But if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms And if you like having secret little rendezvous If you like to do the things you know that we shouldn't do Then baby, I'm perfect Baby, I'm perfect for you And if you like midnight driving with the windows down And if you like going places we can't even pronounce If you like to do whatever you've been dreaming about Then baby, you're perfect Baby, you're perfect So let's start right now

One thing that didn’t go unnoticed was the way YN kept glancing in Louis's direction as she sang.

To end the band and James sang Drag Me Down, all clapping in sync.

All my life, you stood by me When no one else was ever behind me All these lights, they can't blind me With your love, nobody can drag me down

Nobody, nobody

Nobody can drag me down

During the bridge, YN began to rap,

Ain't nothing to break a chain or two Nothing to nothing to break chain W Hear the spit about a penthouse view Yo changing, looking out from my red house view yo That's all is done when the boys come through yo Changing, looking out from my red house view (what) Don't think about, be it What nobody can do D to the R to the A to the G me down, ain't nothing to be around Harry and, James, woah woah Niall, Liam, and Louis and YN too Woah, hey, woah, hey, woah, hey, woah, hey, woah, hey, woah, hey, woah, woah, woah, woah The boys looked at her in shock but couldn’t help but dance and encourage her. Louis started shouting, and Harry clapped along.

YN and Harry harmonise your first high-note riffs together.

“Nobody can drag me down!”

They both keep singing loudly in Liam and Louis's ears to annoy them but as they both get to the second note they can’t help it any longer and just both burst into laughter. James turns in his seat and bursts into a high-pitched laughter too!

“Thanks for helping me get to work guys”

Tag List: (let me know if you would like to be added) @peterholland04

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jar-of-maise · 8 months

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stellaron hunters found family (i)

Blade thinks to himself for a moment, in truth he has an inkling about the so-called “power” and it’s origin, but keeps it to himself for the present. For now, he contents himself with watching Silver Wolf and Kafka argue. It’s a rather one-sided affair but entertaining to watch nonetheless.

Sam returns from a mission later and Blade gets the honour to witness one of the duo’s legendary video game duels. It’s fun to watch and Kafka joins him on the couch as the Silver Wolf and Sam battle it out. Sometime, when it’s late in the night and Silver Wolf has finally dozed off, Kafka puts on a movie. It’s an action packed one, with horrid flashing lights and cinematics that has Sam worked up to the nines.

“That’s not how it works in real life.” He grumbles, pointing at a rather risqué interrogation, “movies aren’t made the same anymore,” he adds unhappily when the following escape scene ends with the lead actor bursting out through a window.

“Oh well, it’s value is in entertainment. Realism is secondary,” Kafka says delicately, she’s examining her nails carefully though Blade isn’t sure how she is given the dim lighting of the room.

He hasn’t been paying a lot of attention to the movie, more preoccupied with not moving so Silver Wolf doesn’t wake up since Kafka always insists he be a human pillow.

“You’re just comfortable Bladie, don’t overthink it,” she once said to him after a mission where she had insisted on sleeping on his shoulder.

Even now, she’s leaning against him on the couch, legs thrown over to the other end of the sofa. Silver Wolf is resting against his other side, snoring lightly, somehow oblivious to the noise and explosions of the movie. It’s not like they try to turn the volume down either. She’s also got his coat draped over her lopsidedly like a blanket. No one had wanted to get a blanket when asked and naturally it just happened to be the day when all their couch covers were in the wash.

So Blade sacrifices warmth. Not that he runs cold, it’s a strange juxtaposition, because the heart beating in his chest is certainly cold, but his body itself still runs hot. Warmer than the average human for some strange reason. Perhaps he’s simply keeping the furnace fire he can no longer use in his body instead.

It seems it comes in handy, as Kafka and Silver Wolf always use him as a pillow. Even Elio, for all his prissy, posh cat ways, isn't immune. Maybe Sam is the only one who doesn’t see Blade as a portable heater…then again, Sam is self-sufficient, relying on machinery alone to accomplish tasks.

Speaking of Sam, he’s sitting on the ottoman. Blade isn’t too sure why, there’s space on the couch – there was a reason they had needed to upgrade it several times in the past, but when he sees Elio stalk into the room from the hallway, he thinks he knows, especially when cat-Elio jumps onto Sam’s lap to get scratches.

The night wears on and soon, not one but two people are fast asleep on each of Blade’s sides. He’s pretty sure Kafka is faking it, but knows very well that Silver Wolf is dead to the world. Not even a hard shake would make her wake up. The ending credits of the movie are rolling on the screen and still, neither have woken up.

Blade gestures at Sam, who stands up and takes Silver Wolf back to her room, coat and everything. Elio is perched on his broad shoulders, amber eyes gleaming as they walk away. Thankfully, Silver Wolf sleeps deeply. Blade supposes it’s one of her many strengths, especially since she is still a child.

Left alone with Kafka, Blade thinks that it really would be rude to leave her on the couch, even with a blanket and pillow. Well he doesn’t have a coat to give her and the one Kafka wears is much too small for the night so he takes her back to her room. He makes sure to remove her sunglasses, pistol(s), jacket and katana.

The door is carefully shut, done in a way that wouldn’t make a noise and wake Kafka up. They share a trait there, that they are both light sleepers. With Kafka and Silver Wolf secured, Blade begins the trek back to his own room. It’s dark in the hallways, but occasionally, a window opening into the starry seas appears.

#stellaron hunters #hsr blade #kafka honkai star rail #silver wolf #sam hsr #elio #yes the cat makes an appearance #stellaron hunters as found family #silly goofy mood #theyre so cute #theyre also wanted criminals #i love them #honkai star rail #oneshot #fluff #drabble #hsr x reader

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samhainmade · 5 months

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@shadxwmoonlight christmas vibes!

SHONA DIDN'T HATE CHRISTMAS, OR AT LEAST she didn't hate it as much as her mother did. In her family home it was just a very small solstice celebration between the two of them and later they'd watch Pride & Prejudice cuddled in front of the space heater. Now almost twenty years later she'd learned to tolerate the absurd commercial end of it, the extravagant gifts, ludacris decorating and sickenly dry turkey. But this year it would be different, she would have her very first christmas in her new home; their home. A place that Oz had spent months tailoring to her liking, a fortress Shona found herself unsettled to leave most days. And though she didn't know what to expect on the twenty-fifth, she found herself looking forward to it for once.

"Do you like real trees or fake ones?" she asked, adjusting her black bobble hat on top of her head. Shona turned her gaze towards Oz, glancing up at his perfectly chiseled features in the lazy December daylight. "I think real ones smell like cat piss."

#shadxwmoonlight #ch: oz godfrey #*them having a nice time* *shona* natuRE STINKS #hope this is okay! figured they could keep walking/be outside or go home #wanted to leave it to you<3

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healthservicesblogs · 6 months

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Life Heater Reviews – (Real or Fake) Life Heater Review Does It Work!

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cnrsilkplants · 1 year

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The Benefits of Using Artificial Plants

If you own or manage any business then you may have already thought of incorporating plants into your decorating scheme. It just makes so much sense. Having some nice potted plants available for your customers or clients to enjoy lightens the mood. Also, having a nice assortment of potted plants reflects positively on you as a person. Remember that having a "green thumb" means that you are a bit of a horticulturist which is a "good thing".

Your Office Space is Just Like a Desert to Plants

If you have already given potted plants a try in your place then you most likely got to watch them as they died a slow lingering death. Don't blame yourself however, because air conditioning and heaters will dry the air out, also plants need good sunlight. This unfortunately means that the average office space happens to be the worst environment to keep plants in, because its just like a desert to them.

Todays Artificial Plants Look Amazingly Real

One simple solution that more decorators are using in today's commercial environments is artificial "plants". However; you may be thinking that you have seen fake plants before and they look good from across the room but up close they look like crap. What you may not know is the artificial plants and flowers have come a long way in recent years and now there are artificial plants that look "perfectly real" even up close.

Its All About the Natural Presentation

Also, it is important to remember that "presentation" goes a long way in an artificial plant arrangements. This means that a good pot and "organic"

ground cover, such as bark or Spanish moss are so important for the "complete" natural effect. Also, artificial plants that are hung up high from the ceiling, such as ferns look fantastic and because they are out of reach, no one can ever touch them to see that they are artificial.

Blending Natural Plants With Artificial Plants

Another trick that decorators use is to augment "thick sturdy" natural plants such as thornless cactus or other plant species that thrive in arid climates with artificial plants. This particularly works great if you want to string light green flowering vines up along a wall or window. People who are seated close to the arrangement will see the the large sturdy natural plant and assume that the vines also "growing" out of the pot are real as well.

A Beautiful Permanent Solution that Looks Perfectly Real

Its important to remember that beautiful natural plants that you will find for sale at your local nursery have been raised in optimal environments.

They grew up in climate and humidity controlled greenhouses and were tended to by experts who do what they do every day of the year. So, if you think that you can bring a fresh bushy natural plant into your "arid" work environment you are sadly mistaken. This is why so many business people have said "screw it" and have found a permanent solution in artificial plants.

Cnrsilkplants.com consists of professional designers and installers of artificial trees for a variety of locations throughout the world. Visit the website for more details.CNR Silkplants offers wide variety of plants which include Artificial Plants, Artificial Silk Plants, Artificial Trees, Replica Trees, Imitation Flowers and many more at affordable rates. Also, we offer worldwide flat rate shipping. Artificial Plants Manufacture in ChinaBrowse our website for more details.https://cnrsilkplants.com/

#artificial plants manufacturers in china #Artificial Plants Supplier in China #Artificial Plants Manufacture in China

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looye29 · 1 year

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Are you interested in starting a woodworking workshop? A woodworking business running at a profit is everybody’s dream! What most of us look for is an option to do so with minimum investments to minimize risks. But such ventures are not always successful, and you need somebody who has experience in this field to guide you with much-needed information about market procedures. You must have complete knowledge about things such as tools and their real value. You must know where to get such tools and if they fall within your estimated expenditure. As a woodworker who wanted to start my own shop post my retirement, I initially thought it was a cakewalk to buy tools, get sufficient space, and start the work with the limited means that I had. But when I actually plunged into it, I realized it was never going to be easy. Space and budget are the two main constraints you need to look into with great care and work on. The Ultimate Small Shop, an eBook by Ralph Chapman, was a source of inspiration to me. The book covers almost all the tiny details needed by a woodworker to start his shop. Needless to say, I benefitted tremendously from the book. Here’s a review of how it helps small entrepreneurs. What is The Ultimate Small Shop, and What Does it Offer The Ultimate Small Shop book is a guide for opening up a small woodworking workshop. It narrates in detail all the problems you, as a woodworker, would encounter along the way. You need to pay attention to a variety of factors: Precise tool selection. Proper and sufficient spacing. Layout selection. Ventilation. Cooling and heating. How to correct errors if wrong tools have been used. All of the above have been dealt with in detail in the book. The book offers advice, instructions, strategies, price guides, and other such valuable information. The book comes with many modules describing the various strategies you need to understand when setting up your workshop. Tool Selection: Tool selection is an essential task for you as you may incur a loss of money and work if you use the wrong tools. In one full module, you will get details on the best tools that you need and the ones to avoid. You will understand how to distinguish the tools that you will need for your workshop. A complete shopping list with details of where to buy them is offered in this book, which makes your job easier. Tool Maintenance: The book also provides details of how to keep the tools in working condition for many years, which you should follow before and after work to improve the tools' efficiency. You will also know how and where to get the tools at reasonable discounts to avoid wastage of money. You will find a shopping list of power tools and personal hand tools. According to the book, you can do a great job using hand tools only if your budget does not permit buying a bandsaw or chop saw. Space Selection: Space selection is covered in another module with complete information on selection of space for the workshop. Once you understand this, you can set up your workshop in various areas of your home. The shop layout module will guide you in planning and designing the workshop without much investment in the space available. You must consider proper ventilation, electricity outlet, and many other factors as listed in the book to select the appropriate area. To prepare the shop's layout, you will find instructions, photos, diagrams, and illustrations to guide you along. Shop Maintenance: Common issues such as maintaining clean air even if your shop does not have enough ventilation by fixing the best heaters, storing wood for a long time period, and avoiding dust pollution are also clearly dealt with in the book. Another critical aspect of the workshop is providing electricity, soundproofing, and lighting. You will get easy to understand instructions on these. Safety Aspect: Yet another vital aspect of setting up a workshop is safety. You will find the book offers excellent guidelines on how to prevent severe injuries while working.

A 10-point checklist in the book will help you in organizing and ensuring the safety of the workshop. Bonuses: You will also get additional materials with the book – a Deal Alert Service which is a free lifetime offer from the author. You will get notifications whenever there is a lucrative offer on woodworking tools from suppliers. The Workshop Cheat List is a valuable source of information on the suppliers from whom you can purchase the tools at excellent, discounted prices. Pros Neatly arranged sections with simple narratives An excellent resource for buying tools at good discounts from specific places Handy instructions, advice, strategies, and tips on maintenance Affordable pricing Money-back guarantee that ensures your money is not at risk. You can always apply for a refund. No upsells here Upon payment, you can get access to the book immediately without any waiting period. Cons Available only in an online format, no physical books sent. Video instructions could have added to increase the value of the guide. You cannot only entirely depend on the book for starting your workshop. It would help if you also did your own homework to achieve results. Some feel the author has not provided any proof of past successes to substantiate the author's claims. There is no proof to establish his abilities either. The book comes with hundreds of pages with modules and materials, which will consume much of your time to understand them fully. Final verdict The book shows you how to avoid some common mistakes that may come your way to making a successful woodworking career. He cites improper usage of tools and too much spending on tools as central issues in a woodworker's career. You will come across many fake reviews on tools, but you should know how not to be scammed by them. You will get all the information on starting a workshop with minimum investments. There are plenty of ideas that can be extremely useful to you when you set up your own workshop in a short period. If you start following the program, you can expect to run a profitable business and earn a decent income. You will know exactly what tools to buy, the need for each of those tools, and the places where you can buy them at the best prices. I would rate the book a full 5.0 stars!

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kaffeeraum-bei-zarah · 1 year

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Styling a fireplace...

I've always found the idea of decorating a real or fake fireplace exciting. It's a perfect way to tell a visual story through your favourite objects. So here're some interesting examples of how a fireplace (and even a stove and a heater) becomes a focal point in a room by means of smart decorating.

↑ A room conveying an unpretentious sense of luxury | Apartment in Paris ... photo by Anne Catherine Scoffoni

...I never used to like moulding* in interior design. But, with time, I can say it really grew on me. It goes perfectly with just any kind of interior, be it a royal splendour or mid-century modern style, elevating even simple interiors to a higher level.

*a piece of wood, plastic, stone, etc. that has been made into a particular shape to decorate the top or bottom of a wall, or a door, window, or piece of furniture.

↑ I like how this quite minimalistic space is used to highlight a little art gallery and a few oversized objects of unusual shapes. The standing lamp is an example of modern design.

↑ Just a simple wooden shelf above an ordinary heater is smartly used to display favourite items. And I love the accent painting of a man with a penetrating look...

↑ A dynamic collection of vases that I would never consider of placing so close to each other, with almost no space in between. But it looks really cool, like a street of skyscrapers lined up along the imagined seashore... :) A dried flower head is also an eye-catching accent piece.

↑ Park Slope, Brooklyn, townhouse | A large, interestingly shaped flower pot with a favourite plant and a date-palm-branch-like lighting reflected in the mirror are enough for a styling that feels complete.

↑ ...posted by Pearl Street | An intriguing little exhibit makes you want to have a closer look at the displayed items and investigate if there's anything interesting else hidden in there...

↑ ...And the last image features a casual mix of vintage and modern. Lots of white and warm tones of wood is another thing I always tend to like.

#interiors

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flashyfucker · 2 years

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longshot | tyson jost ✷

MY MASTERLIST / talk 2 me! :) summary: on a night in bed, you match with your best friend’s teammate on tinder. it’s real convenient that he happens to be crashing on your friend’s couch. tyson jost x fem reader. word count: 5.2k SORRY warnings: smut with feelings (this is a bardownbitch production, obviously.) degrading but like as a joke kinda? it’s a super sarcastic relationship but she gets a lil turned on by it lol. alcohol mentions. dedicated to bffs @97soroka and @toplinetommy! ty for the endless inspo!! xxxx

His first picture should’ve been a red flag.

Not the stomach-turning shirtless, mid-pump gym selfie kind of red, but the heart-squeezing brunch with mom, ask the waiter to take a photo kind of red– a shade that wouldn’t be red at all, on any other night, if it were anyone else’s tinder profile.

Alas, Tyson’s name stares at you, makes your mouth feel dry. Tyson’s cute ass photo with his mom and his brunch and his bouncy curls stares up at the dark ceiling after you drop your phone to the bed, your face buried in your hands, assessing the situation, feeling like you’ve been caught, somehow.

The faint text reading less than a mile away feels all too real when he’s right down the hall.

As you grope the bed to find your phone, you have half a panicky idea to screenshot the profile and send it to your friends in a flurry of “oh my god what the fuck look at this” and “lol should I swipe?”.

When Mikko pops up in the big group chat, a chaotic little part of you wants to send the screenshots their way, tack on a “Josty’s on the hunt” message and watch your extended circle flame his profile.

You think better of it, though— knowing how this looks (how it is, really). Curled up in JT’s guest room after movie night, after almost everyone else’s gone home, swiping tinder at something-past-eleven. It’s not subtle, and you doubt your frustration will be helped by your friends cawing about it in the group chat, so you shut up and hold your breath before tapping through to Tyson’s next photos.

You’re hit immediately with an obscene amount of thigh and bicep in a gratuitous wakesurfing shot, and the low hum from the space heater in the corner fills your ears as you groan almost silently into your fist, rolling your eyes because why does he have to look like that? And, shit, since when does he make this little ache bloom between your thighs? Your shaky fingers grip your phone a little tighter, letting your head sink deep between two pillows, like shielding half your face will make this any better.

The next photo is from a few months back, taken at the party where JT had first introduced you to his friends after you’d moved out from Illinois. You were still a little reserved around the boys, so you and the girls huddled and Tyson had approached you periodically, gradually tipsier but charm never wavering, to make sure you were good, top up your drinks, ask if you needed an uber (or a shot).

It’s not until now, tapping through his fucking tinder profile, that you realise just how sweet that’d been of him, watching out for the new girl for nothing in return. And it’s not until now, staring at a photo where he and the boys are shirtless, fake flexing in sunglasses at nighttime, camera flash exaggerating the ridiculous contours of his body, that you realise, shit, maybe you’ve got… a thing… for Josty.

JT’s presence in the photo right beside Tyson churns your stomach. You grew up with his little sister, and in the absence of an older brother of your own, JT was what you wound up with. Scanning the picture, its familiar background, you vaguely remember the variations JT spits when introducing you– “my sister’s sister” and “basically my sister”, and you know what they’re meant to imply, when he says them to his friends, but as you stare at Tyson’s tinder profile, of all things, you meekly hope Tyson hasn’t taken those dumb implications to heart.

Tyson’s last photo makes you scoff, the pixelly mid-celly action shot, avalanche logo proud on his chest, a little flex buried behind a stack of largely unassuming photos. Once the feeling of ugh, obviously he had to include that has rolled through you, you find yourself smiling a little, endeared by it— sorta proud. And fuck, yeah, maybe the way your heart squeezed at that first photo was a red flag, flailing at half-mast, a harbinger of a crush you hadn’t really known you harboured.

It takes a full five minutes of restless back and forth in your head, deciding you’ll play it off as a joke on the off chance you match, and looking away from your phone while you do it, to finally swipe right.

You heave a choke, eyes bulging, as the It’s a Match! graphic fills the screen immediately. Snapping up in bed, you lock your phone as though that’ll make what’s just happened un-happen, waiting, frozen in the dark, for something. Like he’s going to yell down the hall from where he’s meant to be sleeping in the living room, or something.

Your head swims with thoughts of oh, this is a joke, and we both swiped right because we know each other, no other reason, trying to rationalise it, knowing, somewhere in your head, that it’s not as big a deal as it feels, with the way your heart is pumping. You know you’ll laugh about it while playing never have I ever at some party down the line, maybe. Still, you wince when your phone vibrates against your leg, once, twice.

What are u wearing rn baby? Jk. come hang

You want to scream-laugh and bury yourself under the covers and most of all, pretend you hadn’t seen the messages. Pretend he hadn’t messaged mere moments after you’d swiped, so you could pretend you were sleeping. Climb out the window? JT lives on the tenth floor. Fuck JT’s nice ass apartment. You’d known this could happen, but you’d kinda assumed it wouldn’t. That he’d swipe left if he found you (better still, roast you in the group chat like you’d wanted to do to him. He’s too nice for that, though. Of course he is.).

You hold your breath as you slip out of the room, pulling up the door handle to silence its latch as you close it slowly— and you hold your breath as you shuffle down the dark hall as though the press of your socks to the hardwood could possibly rouse JT through the walls.

As you breach the light blanketing from the floor lamp in the far corner, Tyson twists on the couch to greet you, smug little smile on his face as he throws his arms out, says “Welcome to our first date.” without a lick of sarcasm, and you scoff a laugh, easy.

The tension you’d fabricated is drained away, seeing him all smiley in a dense nest of blankets and pillows like this.

“Damn. No candles? Romantic music?” You let your eyes dart around the room comically, assessing the night’s damage: the packages leftover from midseason cheat snacks, the deck of cards strewn over the table.

“It was a last-minute thing. I have popcorn, though.”

Tyson leans to lift the bowl on the coffee table, shaking the long-cold kernels about noisily, cracking the swell of silence which fills the room behind the clipped volume of your voices, and you shhh him aggressively, pointing towards the shadowy hallway, JT’s room.

“He can hang with us.” He rolls his eyes, working at you like a little kid, as though getting under your skin is going to impress you, somehow– and you suppose that’s always been the nature of your relationship: play fighting, pulling pigtails. It just feels charged, now. You snatch the bowl from Tyson’s hand, watch his smirk drop, satisfied.

“Now JT’s invited on our date?” You gasp, feigning offence, glancing back at him as you cross the open plan to the kitchen to empty the stale popcorn.

“No– no.” Tyson sputters. And, for a second, he sounds like he might add something, but you finish rinsing and drying the bowl and he hasn’t continued. Something about it turns your stomach.

“Come, get in. ‘S cold.” Tyson tells you, lifting the layered patchwork of blankets that engulf his lower half, beckoning you in.

Your eyes narrow at him, face contorting sarcastically, and you watch as his brows raise, eyes roll.

“Don’t be weird about some blankets. It’s pretty obvious why you were on tinder at eleven p.m.”

Your throat goes dry, because he’s right, and god, it’s embarrassing that he’s called it out, but it doesn’t change how you’re still a little hot all over, and that wakesurfing pic spins in the back of your head, even looking at him, now, wearing a plush hoodie and waist-deep in fluffy bedding.

“Hey, chill. You were on tinder, too.” You compose yourself quickly, flicking an accusatory point of your finger in his direction with raised brows, hoping, by some grace, the weird, sheeted lighting means he doesn’t catch the glow of your cheeks, hoping he doesn’t quite know your timbre well enough to recognise the waver.

Tyson lifts his hands in mock surrender, warping his voice sarcastically to chide “Oh, you caught me,” before he flips the duvet off to let you have it, leaning to fish over the heavy wool knit you’d given JT as a housewarming gift years ago.

“’S like JT’s never heard of central heating before.” You mutter, if for nothing but to fill the quiet as you take up place beside him on the couch, tucking yourself comfortably beneath the still-warm duvet which bunches up thickly between the pair of you.

“He doesn’t earn enough to use it, unfortunately.” Tyson sighs, nods solemnly before his eyes cant towards you, glinting a little as he staves off a smile, “‘M sure those tiny shorts don’t help your case, though.”

You barely let the thought settle before you’re throwing a pillow at his head and he’s catching it, apologising with red cheeks and “I knew that’d getcha. Y’r shorts are fine.”.

“They’re just fine?”

And you don’t know what you’re doing, not letting what he’s said settle before you cut back: there’s still a nagging warmth in you, and your mouth runs with it, testing. You roll the inside of your cheek between your teeth.

“I can’t think too much about ‘em in JT’s house, honestly.”

He looks shy while saying it, and your whole body goes cold and tingly-numb watching him, hearing what he’s said, the way his cheeks are ruddy and his chin tucked like hiding, a little. Your dumb almost-smile fills the gap while you process, shift your seat unconsciously, heat curling between your legs, and you pray he doesn’t notice.

“Fuck off.” You settle on laughing like he’s joking, even though he’s straight-faced.

An unoffended hum clears it, whatever that moment was, and Tyson continues.

“Y’know, I was losing hope. I swiped right on you weeks ago, like last movie night. Whenever it was that you and Mikko, like, whatever.”

His words wrap around you, the weight of them, feeling like he’s holding the flyaway at the end of a spool of thread, about to unravel. Tyson shuffles his phone between his hands absentmindedly, not looking at you.

“What d’you…”

But you know what he means.

“I didn’t go home, y’know with Mikko, or anything, Tys. We carpooled.”

“Yeah, JT told me. Still, you left with him, his hand was on your back, I was kinda jealous, whatever, whatever.” Tyson says, sweetly self-deprecating and assuring in the ways he always is, and his words feel like a swarm of butterflies in your chest (and, right now, you don’t even begin to unpack the mention of JT.).

“Point is, it was a long shot swiping right. Didn’t think you’d ever hit me back. ‘M glad it’s paying off.”

Tyson looks at you, mouth pinched into this little smile he does, and you hadn’t realised but you know it up and down, know the satisfaction behind it. For all the facetious digs, you feel the change, here, things being laid out flush on the table, between you both.

“Paying off? I have no idea what you’re talking about. I swiped right by accident.”

“You’re my mortal enemy.” His smile blooms.

“So, why’d you swipe right?”

You don’t miss a beat.

“For sure the wakeboarding pic.” You furrow your brow like pssh, like you’re telling him obviously. Your eyes try to find the version of him from that photo, here, now, within the billow of layers. All you discover is his hand, hard and cut with veins, which clutches the blanket on his lap: it waves heat through your lower abdomen all the same as that photo did.

He chews on his lip, brow hard, then you watch him light up, a-ha— remembering the photo.

“Fuck yeah. I knew it’d work.” He says. “‘S that why you’re squirming like that?”

Sitting there, the duvet weighs a tonne on your bare thighs, and there’s no air in your lungs, you’re hot all over, and inside, too.

“I’m not, squirming, Tys.” You try, squirming, cris-crossing your legs and shifting a little.

“You are so! It’s kinda sweet.” He looks overjoyed. You want to sink into the rowdy sea of blankets.

“Sweet?” You nearly laugh, fingers curling into your blanket, knuckles white. “Please don’t mock me.”

You feel dumb, pleading, and if your legs weren’t frozen, tight-muscled, you’d probably be packing into an Uber, by now.

“I’m not mocking you. Bein’ dead serious.” Tyson, easy smile still cool and calm, sticks a hand out, extends his pinky to promise. Level with him, you take it, exhale when he doesn’t let go: he has this weird little way of soothing, soft dark eyes puppy-wide, brows upturned.

“Let me know if I’ve read this situation wrong.” His voice is smaller than it’s ever been, than you’ve ever heard. Hands entwined, dropped to the couch now, your pinkies are pinched red, latticed together, both tight as each other.

“You haven’t.”

The edge of his hand presses against yours.

“Are you wet?”

You nod, and his breath falls in a strained sigh.

His fingers drift up to take your hand, properly, tug you closer, maybe, but your tongue lashes before you overthink it, and it stops him, freezes you both.

“Can I suck you off?”

It’s all you want, the weight of him in your mouth, and there’s no room for shyness anymore, not after his question. Tyson’s head tips back into the couch, grip plying away from the blankets, fingers flexing, his one hand squeezing yours. A little part of you thinks about those fingers, too, wants to wrap your lips around them.

“Fuck.” He nearly whimpers.

“Yeah?” You’re doe-eyed, curious. More than a little excited.

“Yeah– yes, please.” You see him swallow, nodding vacantly.

So you push the blankets away (which is okay, the air could nearly sizzle against your skin, you think, everything’s suddenly warm, everywhere), and move to kneel between his legs, and it takes all you have to keep from giggling shyly when he hands you a throw pillow, says “For your knees, y’know,” nervously. A shimmery warmth rises in your chest at the gesture.

He helps your eager hands tug his sweatpants down around his midthigh, cock bobbing free, hard and heavy, proud between his legs. Your lax mouth nearly waters at the sight– likewise, he blinks hard, watching the way your eyes widen, tongue wets your plush lips. His exhale shudders, and tension claws at his abs as you lean in on your elbows.

That tension dissolves as your hot tongue meets the head, laps tentatively at his sticky precum, and quickly, you melt into it all, spitting on the tip and lazily pulling the slick down his thick shaft with fingers that don’t quite ring around the girth of him. You tug back up to the flared crown, revelling in his tiny reactions: the slump back of his head, clipped breath, struggling to stay quiet when you hit somewhere sensitive.

He watches, enthralled, as you take him into your mouth, pretty eyes fluttering shut with every bob of your head, taking him a little deeper into the back of your mouth on every pass until he’s butting the back of your throat and you’re choking him down, clenching around him. He wishes it didn’t turn him on so fucking much, seeing the tears well up as you pull off him, a mess of sticky spit and precum lacy between his cock and your chin, your smiley mouth.

“Taste so good, Tys.” You hum, kissing gently against the velvet underside, all tongue and loose suckling at him, practically making out with his cock, the bliss of it nearly blurring his vision.

The compliment goes straight to his dick, and Tyson slowly rings your hair tight around his fist, murmurs “Okay?” and when you nod, he squeezes, tugging at your scalp deliciously.

“Fuck my face?” You ask, oh-so-innocent, gasping when he bucks his cock towards your mouth unconsciously, smearing your mess against your cheek.

“Tongue out.”

There’s a steady sternness to his tone that pits your stomach, that you don’t have time to unpack before Tyson guides your head, slowly, at first, bringing you up and down on his cock, tongue lolling, getting you both messy, drooly. Your forearms rest on his inner thighs, lax now he’s controlling the movement, picking up pace as he gages your reactions.

Bets are off when he catches one of your hands float down between your legs, though, and if he wasn’t fighting for his life to stave off his own peak (or, if he wasn’t on JT’s poor couch, fuck) he’d call you out on it, let this escalate to something with a harsher energy, something you’re both keening for, but can’t quite have, here.

You gag as he sinks into your throat, wet and frothy and clenching around him, jaw going blissfully numb as tears bloom, spill to sear your cheeks. Your hand ruts tentatively at your core, aimless swathes of your fingertips over your clit that only just quell the ache, but not the desperation.

The weight of him is all-consuming, salty-sweet on your tongue, and it’s not long before he’s backing off, struggling to keep his mouth shut while you whimper and moan, gag around him, your fingers toying with your clit gently: he can see it, your arm moving, the tight rotation of your torso, kinda, and if he thinks about it, he knows he won’t last.

Tentatively, Tyson lets your head lift, hand still heavy at the crown of your skull but pressureless, and, mindlessly, your hand finds his cock in the absence of your mouth.

“Tys.” It takes him a second to come to centre, open his eyes. You feel him throb in your hand, and try again: “Tyson.”

“Yeah. Yeah?” He blinks, once, twice, clearing his clouded head.

“Tell me this is mine.”

You whine “Tys,”, faux-pouting when he takes a second, his breath ragged, and you blink up at him, tugging hard around the head of his cock, encouraging a fresh drool of precum, making him whine.

All at once, Tyson huffs, rolls his eyes and leans quick to grab you around the ribs and pull you up, make you crawl onto the couch with him, plucking a gaspy little laugh from you at the sudden roughness of it.

“You’re such a little slut.” He chuckles, shakes his head, drawing a hand up to twist your hair around his fist once more— holding you level with his gaze, and your jaw gapes around a shocked smile, a fresh lick of your juices soaking your panties, your shorts, by now. You gulp, suddenly aware of the filth of it all, the cool air freezing against the mess on your face, between your legs. Something about it gives you a rush of confidence.

“Yeah, but so are you. Tell me your cock’s all mine, Tys. That this isn’t a one-time thing.”

The facetious, mean demeanour he wears melts for half a second as he processes, pulls you in to kiss you hard, open. His face goes hot, head blurred at the taste of himself heady on your tongue, the harsh, minty cut of your toothpaste still lingering.

And, with his tongue in your mouth, Tyson shoves his free hand down the front of your shorts, then yanks you back by the hair at just the right time, leaving you, tongue a little out, fighting for air, hitching a gasp as his fingers find your cunt, dripping.

“Only if this belongs to me, too.”

With one hand in your hair and the other pressed to your pussy, Tyson’s face is more serious than you’ve ever seen it. Your chest burns in the best way.

“All yours, baby.” You smile, meaning it.

Juxtaposing the roughness with which he’d yanked you onto the couch, Tyson’s hands move to guide your hips, tugging you over his lap. He reaches up, stroking your hair from your face, all the shyness he’d had earlier back in the smile he glows with, now.

“I’ll ask you on a real date when my dick’s soft again.”

You laugh softly, hand pushing up under his hoodie, helping him tug it off: you’re indulgent in the way your hand brushes his abs, and if he notices, he says nothing.

“Better get to work then, huh?”

It takes all Tyson has not to land a sharp little slap to your ass at that, but he’s vaguely still aware of JT down the hall, and Tyson’ll be damned if he lets this be interrupted, now. It takes little more than a nudge to bunch the soft material of your shorts up to the side, and you’re so wet it’s everywhere, soaked through and it’s starting to slick up your inner thighs, a little, Tyson could nearly finish on the spot when he realises, but his fingers dig into the flesh at the junction between your ass and thigh, and he’s a little distracted.

Your one hand steadies his cock, the other pressing on his shoulder. And you let the head catch your hole and draw yourself down, so slow it feels torturous, like it’s crushing his entire chest, and when he finally bottoms out, opens his eyes to find your teasing little smile, your hips unmoving, and, with the realisation that you’re fucking with him, he uses the squeeze he has on your ass to flip the pair of you, huffing “Fuck this.” as you yelp. Your back’s arched over the mound of blankets and pillows, tilting your hips up for him, practically presenting yourself, suddenly lewd in a way it hadn’t been moments ago, even when he was inside you. You feel your cheeks burn.

“Don’t have time to play.” Tyson mutters.

You nearly laugh, smile so big that his frustration could nearly dissipate at the sight. Nearly. Then, you talk again.

“You really wanna ask me on that date, don’t you, Tys?”

The blunt head catches your cunt again, nudges forward, sits shallow. You gulp around the little sigh that nearly slips, blink hard, hide the beckoning pleasure, as though he won’t notice the telltale throb around the tip of his cock.

His curls sweep over his face, so you can’t see it but he rolls his eyes, his lower lip slipping, pinched red and angry, wet from where it’s been drawn between his teeth.

“Not if you’re gonna be a fuckin’ brat.”

Your hips tick, stomach turning first at his words, then at the sticky swirl, the upward drag of his cock against your clit. And your body thrums, hands shaky and numb where they nestle in your rucked up shirt, but the little vein of rebellion, of pushing still runs hot in your head.

“Mm. Bad news, then.” You manage.

“D’you ever shut up?” Tyson sighs, finally pushing in, fast and deep and filling you up and you swear you feel it in your stomach, the pressure: your hand claws mindlessly for your lower belly, feeling the way your muscles move to accommodate it, the tight fit of him. Your mouth is open, brows knit, but no sound finds its way out, too taken by the sudden pleasure. Tys barely rocks back at all before he’s trying to push deeper, satisfied at how your jaw stretches around something unintelligible, a wrecked little moan.

And he’d chirp you for it, how he’s found how to shut you up, but you’re so hot and tight, it’s all he can think about, finally sunken within you, your plush walls slick and squeezing him, so he bites down on his lip, lets his head tip back and fucks into you.

You’re lost in it, instantly, numb to everything but the tingling along your nerve endings that swirls into this depth of heat at your core, and the fire prodded, stoked by Tyson’s hard, quick thrusts, nearly bruising your insides, sending you wordless, breathless.

Once a moment has passed, he’s found a stride that has you whimpering in lieu of the moans you’d both prefer.

(There’s something crushingly hot about this, though: the shaky breaths, the facial expressions: the flushed skin and dropped-jaw, pinched brow silent cries, there’s a desperation in it, one leaning into how you couldn’t wait, had to do this here, now. There’s no other option but to take one another apart.)

He leans forward, into you with his pelvis, a new pressure, new pace: his hips rutting against your spread thighs, fingers pulling the crooked bunch of your shorts and panties up and away, watching your folds split around the girth of him. The look in his eye is loving, almost, wearing a blushy smile as he pulls out, pushes back in, his cock coated, glistening obscenely, making these lewd noises, squishy and wet, and Tyson’s fuckin’ mesmerised.

He reaches down on a thrust, strokes the flat of his thumb over your clit, making your thighs jolt, tremble in his hands, and you’re suddenly chasing, your legs kicking and head falling back as the feeling curls from your cunt up into your abdomen.

Tyson huffs to save a groan and asks “Close?”, as if he couldn’t tell, like your hips aren’t rocking circles under his body, your cunt clamping down on his cock, needy.

So you nod, a little frantic, eager. You press the back of your hand to your lips, focussing on calming yourself as much as muffling yourself, as your face scrunches, the stretch of his cock inside you ribboning pleasure up, everywhere, white-hot as it glimmers along your muscles. Tyson holds the sarcasm, this time, opting to let his fingertips find your hard, slick little bud once more, circling until he feels your body tighten up, then he’s backing off, changing the pace, grinning when your chest heaves a dry sob before he starts again, buries himself to the hilt to keeping you open on his cock and thumbing at your clit.

And you want to tell him that it’s not funny, that you really wanna come, but you don’t trust yourself to say it quietly, right now, not when it’s fucking building, again, and you think you might actually cry if your back arches and he pulls away once more.

But, he knows, sees the sweat gleam your brow, the absent roll-back of your eyes, the way your fists hook, white-knuckling blankets: your throaty little whimpers turn to what he thinks could be please, please. He knows.

He doesn’t pull away, this time, and the crash of your orgasm rolls through and he’s barely thrusting anymore, instead pulling your ass up to where he rests on his haunches, shoving himself all the way inside your spasming pussy, forcing you to cream on his cock, to gush around him.

At the too-loud crawl of his name from your fried throat, one of Tyson’s hands clamps hard over your mouth, but he smiles, enthralled, watching you lose yourself in it. You’re moving perfectly mindlessly against him, your pelvis rocking out the rippling pleasure as his fingers lighten on your clit, now slow and gentle, barely-there, but the most delicate of strokes, now, make your cunt squeeze, your whole body tauten, tremble.

You’re so lost in it, so gone, you think you’d barely notice the sudden uptick of Tyson’s hips, cresting his peak, too, the flood of heat inside you, if not for the airless grunt, his head tipped back and abs locking up, hand pushed through his sweat-slicked curls, wild and everywhere.

You’re glad you notice, though, as aftershocks shake you: you remember, only just, to appreciate this (even half as much as your body does: you feel your fucking heartbeat in your cunt, your muscles all warm and liquid along your limbs.).

Tyson hums, moans, maybe, and moves his hands for your sides, holding fast, stilling you both in place ‘till your breathing finds some semblance of evenness.

“I never wanna pull out.” Tyson’s head falls as he murmurs it, equal parts petulance and pleasure, now, he’s revelling. You find yourself nodding, agreeing.

“You’re still fuckin’ hard, Tys.” You say, feeling it, the overstimulated throb of him— or maybe it’s you. Either way, he’s still stiff and buried to the hilt in your drooling cunt, filling you entirely. The subtlety of the pulse encompasses you, squeezes your stomach, then your pussy, around him. Tyson slumps, a little, “Huh-ha.” corralling from his mouth before anything coherent can construct itself.

“Gimme a sec.” He manages. You lift on your elbows, a little, look up at him starry-eyed, smiling. Your lips part, goldfishing, kinda, as he pulls out, slowly, spinning your head.

“I’m never getting that date, at this rate.” You chide, your knees pulling up toward your chest, and you’re blushing at how hard it is to stop your hands from reaching for him, pulling him back in: the emptiness between your hips borderline fucks with your head, how bad you miss him.

But then he’s canting the pad of his thumb over your messy slit, frictionless, playing with the torrent of his cum swirled through yours, and his mouth is opening at the sight of your used little hole pushing his cum out, and he can’t think of anything to cut back at you with other than a broken “Fuck.”.

You’re in his lap, practically, hips propped up on his knees, sticky and leaking filthily all over his bunched up sweats as his cock throbs against the cleft of your ass, and he’s softening slowly, but god, you make it tough without even trying. You’re doe-eyed and still flushed, breathing hard and Tyson can hardly take it. He swallows, blushing deep, trying to string together a series of words which will make sense, ‘cause god, he needs more of you. Can’t let this be a one-time thing.

“My dick’s the softest it’s gonna be, baby. Come to breakfast with me, tomorrow?”

And for all you might’ve expected him to ask, now, it still fills you with butterflies, the cluelessness laced with hope which dances across his bright face. Then, you’re nodding unmistakably and ripping him down to you by his arm: a messy kiss, overjoyed, only choked out by the hard thrust of two fingers into your sensitive cunt.

The slow rub of his fingertips at your g-spot, hard in time with the roll of his mouth against yours, feels like equal parts pleasure and promise now: this isn’t a one time thing. He pushes your hair from your face and nips at your lip and mumbles your name into your neck while he makes you come on his fingers, and you know he’s all yours.

#SRY THIS TOOK SO LONG LMAO #tyson jost #tyson jost x reader #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost smut #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl fic #nhl smut #hockey imagine #hockey smut #ff.doc

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ibis-gt · 3 years

Note

*slides you 37 pennies* how would luther handle trying to go on a public date with cam (movie, restaurant, etc.) with the whole… affection turns height to no.

had two requests for this one so here u go! luther does his best to keep it together for date night. 2750 words, warning for brief mention of violence in a movie and some hanky panky between consenting adults. not explicit, just a little spicy.

~~~

Four months into their relationship, and Luther has more of a handle on things now.

He’s got the size thing totally under control. He hardly ever shrinks just because Cam looked at him anymore. He can take a compliment like a champion. Those soft, sweet, gentle smiles that spread across Cam’s face like molasses? Barely make him lose an inch. Physical contact? He’s… still working on that one.

But at the very least they can have date nights in public now, as long as Cam behaves himself, and Cam is quite willing to behave himself. Most of the time.

It’s a snowy Saturday night in December, and they’ve got a date planned. Cam will pick Luther up at eight, they’ll go have dinner at a local sushi place, watch a late night special feature from the 80s, and then come back home for some wine and light snuggling before bed. An absolutely perfect night, if Luther can make it through enough of it full-size.

He’s still debating his outfit when a gentle knock at his front door heralds his beloved’s arrival. Five minutes early as usual.

“It’s open!” Luther calls. “C’mon in and help me choose, will you?” He’s standing in his bedroom in a pair of black slacks with the horrid green jumpsuit undone and tied around his waist, staring critically at his two choices of top. A lovely turquoise turtleneck, or a stylish electric blue button-up. The floor creaks behind him as Cam ambles in. “Which one do you think is better? I guess it depends on what you’re wear - eep!”

Luther squeaks and jumps as Cam presses his lips to Luther’s neck, big warm hands sliding up his arms to rest on his bare shoulders, sending an involuntary shiver down his spine.

“Both look nice,” Cam murmurs in his ear. “But I think I like the blue one better.”

“C-cam,” Luther whines, his face going pink. “If you keep this up we’re not even going to get out the door.” The hands remove themselves, and Cam pulls back, chuckling.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself. All that exposed real estate, you know.” He lets out a perfect wolf whistle. God damn him. Luther glares over his shoulder and folds his arms, letting annoyance take over.

“We’ve been planning this for weeks, and you’re going to ruin it,” he pouts. “Go on, out. Wait in the living room if you’re going to be like this.” Cam puts his hands up in a placating gesture and retreats, but that damn smile doesn’t leave his face. Luther tosses his hair and huffs, secretly proud of himself. He didn’t even lose a half inch. He turns back to consider his options.

Well, if Cam is so focused on his neck tonight, that sweater might be the better option to afford him some protection. But he said he liked the button-up better… It’s lighter than the sweater so it won’t keep him as warm, but that means he can steal Cam’s big coat later on. The turtleneck would completely cover the green jumpsuit, but the blue of the button-up actually compliments it nicely. Luther nods decisively. The button-up will be perfect.

He dresses quickly, gives himself a final once-over in the mirror, unbuttons his top button, and heads out to see Cam. His boyfriend - his boyfriend! The thought still sends a thrill through him - has picked up the cat, Scrunge, and is stroking her head, making little baby noises at her. She purrs in her usual way, fast and loud, like a revving motorcycle. Cam sets her down when he sees Luther and sighs happily.

“You look fantastic,” he says.

“You clean up pretty nice yourself.” Luther crosses the room and fondly brushes a loose strand of hair behind Cam’s ear. Cam’s in a dark grey v-neck shirt and black suit jacket, slightly tarnished silver cufflinks adorning the sleeves. He’s got his big heavy winter coat draped over one arm so he doesn’t overheat in the relative warmth of the apartment. Luther sneaks a covetous little glance at it before grabbing his own shabby coat off a hook near the door.

He bends down to give Scrunge a goodbye scritch behind the ears. “Behave yourself while I’m out,” he tells her. “No tearing around the place and knocking things over.” She meows plaintively. Luther retrieves her bag of treats and gives her two as a bribe, which she accepts happily.

“Okay,” Luther says, straightening and shrugging on his coat. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Cam says, and takes his hand.

They walk to the restaurant. No point in searching for parking, it’d take longer than just hoofing it anyway. It’s been snowing on and off throughout the week and piles of dirty slush cover the sidewalk. It’s cold, but Luther’s coat is keeping him warm enough for now. He and Cam hold hands as they walk to the restaurant, and Luther doesn’t even shrink a little bit. His chest swells with so much pride he thinks his feet might leave the ground.

The place is only a little busy, so they have a short wait before they’re shown to their table. They get their usual orders. Luther prefers simple rolls and nigiri so the taste of the fish is front and center, while Cam likes to get the complicated, loaded rolls for the variety of texture and flavor. While they wait for their food to arrive, Luther fills Cam in on Scrunge’s latest reign of terror in his apartment, and how much it’ll cost to fix the cracked frame of the painting she’d somehow managed to knock off the wall in her frenzy to catch the fabled red laser dot.

The food arrives. Cam offers Luther a taste of his rolls - he’s gotten something deep fried with cream cheese, cucumber, and crab, and another loaded high with four kinds of fish, topped with roe. Luther tries the one with all the fish, but passes on the deep fried one. He trades Cam a piece of mackerel nigiri. Then he continues on talking, telling Cam about his week, how work’s been, the new guy they hired, and the annoying new habit his coworker’s formed of singing along with the music on the jukebox, regardless of whether she knows the lyrics or not.

Luther suddenly catches the look in Cam’s eyes. There’s something… hungry in them. It’s the only way he can describe it. It’s not regular hungry, because he’s practically ignoring his food in favor of listening intently to Luther’s rambling story. He’s leaning forward, arms folded on the table in front of him, drinking in every word Luther has to say. He’s hungry for him. The realization hits Luther like a truck and he stops mid-sentence, jaw dropping, a blush starting to spread across his face.

“What’s wrong?” Cam asks, innocent as ever. How could he even know the effect he has on Luther? How could Luther ever explain?

“N-nothing, um, I… I’ve been talking a lot, why don’t you take over for a bit? What’s keeping you busy at work?” It was delightful to listen to Cam ramble on about his job. Luther barely understood a word of it, but his enthusiasm was adorable and, importantly, not about Luther. He could keep it together and breathe a bit, work on calming down the scramble of emotion in his gut.

Sure enough, he wins himself a good fifteen minutes of calm while Cam talks on about carburetors and mufflers and manifolds. He could be making it up for all Luther knows. It’s not until Cam realizes his deep fried roll has gone cold that he breaks off to eat. They finish their food, decide to pass on dessert, pay, and head for the theater.

It’s only a few blocks away, a fifteen minute walk at most. The night has gotten a little colder and darker, and now stray snowflakes drift and spin through the air, catching the streetlights and twinkling like stars. Cam has a lot of fun pretending he’s a dragon, his warm breath turning to steaming clouds in the freezing air. Luther’s shivering now, his old secondhand coat doing little to protect him from the chill. Cam notices, of course, and whips his own coat off in an instant.

“Oh, please,” Luther demurs, “You’re so chivalrous, but really, I’m fine.”

“You’re shaking like a weathervane in a hurricane, sweetheart. I’ll be fine, I’m my own space heater.” Cam arranges the coat over Luther’s shoulders neatly and slips his arm around Luther’s waist, pulling him in close. It’s so warm and so nice, and so very, very close. Luther’s shivers slacken and cease, and then one more shakes him, different from the rest.

“Oh no,” Luther whispers, “I was doing so well, please…”

Luckily, he only loses about three inches. His clothes are a little looser, and he’s engulfed a little more by Cam’s huge coat, but he’s still a perfectly normal height. He sighs in relief.

“So what’s this movie we’re seeing?” Luther asks, trying to take his mind off of things.

“Oh, so it’s this old sci fi cult classic based on a book no one’s ever read. I saw it the first time when I was like… eight? And it scarred me for life, really, and now I’m obsessed with this shit. The special effects are super gnarly, and they hold up okay, even though you can totally see the tube for the fake blood in the decapitation scene. Don’t worry too much about following the plot, it’s not really the point of the movie, but what you should know ahead of time is…”

Cam rambles on like that, filling the night with fog. Luther snuggles in closer and listens happily, totally at ease. He made it through the most important part of the night, and once they get in the theater, he can relax. It doesn’t matter if he shrinks in the theater - from what Cam’s said, the only people watching this late-night special feature will be die-hard fans who’ll be glued to the screen, and in the darkness they won’t have to worry about anyone catching sight of them.

That also means, of course, that Cam might get a little handsy once the lights dim. If he’s being honest, Luther would be disappointed if he didn’t.

They get a seat in the back row. As the previews start up, Cam reaches over and takes Luther’s chin in his hand, turning it gently so they face each other. For a moment, he just holds them there, staring into Luther’s eyes with an adoring softness that makes Luther’s heart sing. Then he leans in and kisses him, just once, softly on the mouth. Luther shivers and loses another few inches. Cam lets him go, but Luther’s not satisfied. He grabs Cam’s collar and pulls him down for another kiss, this one deeper and hungrier. Cam chuckles against his mouth and nips at his bottom lip, catching it between his teeth for just a moment. Luther sits back heavily in his seat, breath coming in shallow gasps. He grips his armrests tight, trying to pay attention to the trailer for the newest slasher flick as it blares out through the theater. No dice. He’s losing height fast now, shrinking down to four feet tall, his normal clothes hanging off his frame.

They stay apart for all of a minute before Cam’s hand sneaks across the seat and slides into place on Luther’s thigh. He strokes his thumb back and forth in a slow rhythm, humming happily. Luther gasps and shrinks more, staring wide-eyed as Cam’s hand covers more and more of him, soon easily encompassing his entire thigh.

He’s maybe two feet tall now and he can’t see the screen over the seat in front of him. Cam glances down, catching the pouting, grumpy look on Luther’s face, and presses a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter.

“Here, sweetheart,” Cam murmurs, and picks Luther up with one hand. With the other, he frees him from his clothing so that he’s only clad in the jumpsuit. Cam settles Luther gently on his lap. This has fixed the problem of not being able to see the screen, but only momentarily. Luther goes bright red and dwindles down even further. By the time the previews have finished, he’s only eight inches tall.

As the opening theme blares with discordant trumpets, Cam pinches the back of Luther’s jumpsuit between thumb and forefinger and lifts him up. He dangles Luther in front of his face for a moment, expression torn between adoring and apologetic, then brings him in close for a gentle kiss. He sets Luther on his shoulder and hands him a piece of popcorn.

Luther hides his burning face behind the buttery morsel. He’d been expecting a little hanky panky, but nothing so direct. Stolen kisses, maybe a fake yawn that disguised Cam putting his arm around Luther, a little playing with his hair. Going for the thigh like that… that was entirely unexpected. He’s beginning to suspect Cam was trying to get him tiny.

The movie is just as gory and weird as promised. Luther isn’t super squeamish, but more than once he turns and ducks his face into Cam’s neck, squealing in disgust, his voice quiet enough at this size that he doesn’t have to worry about disturbing anyone else. Every time, he feels Cam shake under him with silent laughter, enjoying Luther’s reactions.

The movie ends before too long, and the other theatergoers file out, chatting animatedly with one another about the flick. Cam holds his hand up to his chest, and Luther pushes himself off Cam’s shoulder, landing gracefully in his palm. Cam sets him down on the armrest while he folds up Luther’s discarded clothing and tucks it in an inner pocket of his big coat. He looks down at Luther and tilts his head to one side, lips pursed in a calculating expression.

“You’re just a little too big to hide comfortably… here, let’s fix that.” Cam puts his elbows on either side of Luther on the armrest and looms over him, completely blocking the dim theater lights overhead. Luther takes a few involuntary steps back and bumps up against Cam’s hands, linked together behind him to form a ring penning him in. “You’re all mine now,” Cam breathes, quiet as a whisper. “So tiny and cute. I’m going to put you in my pocket and carry you home, and then… well, then we’ll see what I’ll do with you, hm?” A crooked, meaningful grin spreads across Cam’s face, and that hungry look comes back into his eyes.

It works like a charm. Luther’s legs shake, his heart pounds, and he shivers. He dwindles down to half his height, a mere four inches.

“There we go,” Cam croons, and scoops him up in one hand. Cam stows him safely in his coat pocket, held in a loose fist to keep him safe from jostling and the cold. He exits the theater and moves through the crowds easily. People tend to make way when they see a man his size coming towards them.

Luther curls up against Cam’s fingers and sighs happily. Cam’s hand is warm, calloused in places but soft in others, and the pocket sways gently with his gait. It’s so safe and cozy, combined with the late hour and the exhaustion of the day, it’s the perfect recipe to knock him out. He fights the heaviness of his eyelids as long as he can, but only makes it a few blocks before he’s fast asleep.

~~~

“Whew, cold one out tonight,” Cam says as he unlocks the door to Luther’s apartment. He can already hear Scrunge wailing on the other side. “I hope you weren’t too frozen in there.” He pushes the door open and addresses the cat. “Yes, we’re home, hello darling, we missed you too.” She winds around his legs and purr-meows at top volume. “Okay, okay, other people are trying to sleep,” Cam hisses. “You’re gonna wake up the whole floor, shitty kitty.” She mrrps in disapproval.

He pulls Luther out of his pocket. “So, babe, do you wanna - oh.” The little dear is asleep, snoring softly. Cam smiles and presses a kiss to his chest. He takes a seat on the couch, sighing as he plops himself down. Scrunge leaps up into his lap immediately and puts her front legs up on his chest, sniffing at Luther in his hand.

“Poor dear’s all tuckered out,” Cam murmurs, giving her a scritch. “Let’s let him rest.”

#asks #writing #cam and luther #gulliver's hanahaki #g/t #giant tiny #hit post before i remembered tags exist oops

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honeytae · 3 years

Text

You’re my muse every night.

hi bubs, happy wednesday! (or whatever day it is for you <3) this is like...possibly the most self indulgent piece i’ve written. it’s just some really simple fluffy joon content with a dash of “i’m so in love with you it hurts” which is exactly what i feel for namjoon so. fitting. the self indulgence is so so real. okay anyways i just hope you all enjoy :)

tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy, @the1921-monsters

genre: fluff

word count: 1.7k

It was cold.

The icy sheets were the first thing your brain registered as your body came to, stretching across the mattress with a groan at the tightening and untightening of your muscles.

You felt disorientated; you definitely weren’t ready to wake up yet. But god, this bed was freezing. Why was it so cold?

Reaching out for your own personal space heater of a boyfriend, you let out a whiny “hmph” when you came up empty-handed, peeling your eyes open to confirm that Namjoon was no longer beside you.

Lifting your head to glance over at the door of your en-suite bathroom, you frowned at the lack of light flooding into the bedroom, huffing as you sat up to swing your legs over the empty mattress.

The time stamp on your alarm clock told you that it was three hours after midnight, much past your usual bedtime. You should be sleeping.

Every normal person should be sleeping.

Even if you hadn’t looked at the time, you would’ve known you should be sleeping. Your limbs felt far too heavy, your eyes were mildly sore, and you felt groggy beyond belief.

Wanting to check again, you listened for any noise from behind the slightly ajar bathroom door, quickly coming to the conclusion that you did at least thrice a week.

Namjoon was working. He was working when he was supposed to be sleeping, like every other person on the planet whose schedules permitted them to after full days like he had.

Huffing as you walked back to the bed, your fingers began tugging at one of the blankets from atop your duvet, lazily wrapping it around your shoulders with a shiver. Even the soft fabric was icy to the touch from lack of human body warmth.

“I’m gonna kill him.” You grumbled to yourself, slipping your feet into your slippers and beginning to shuffle out of the bedroom with a yawn.

This was not the first time you had woken up in an empty bed. Not at all. In fact, it was often that you went to sleep in Namjoon’s arms and woke up in the middle of the night alone.

You no longer wondered about what he could possibly be doing at this hour.

Stubbornly walking through the apartment until you could see the light on in the kitchen, you stared for a moment at the familiar sight of your boyfriend hunched over the island as he scribbled in his notebook, pointer finger pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he concentrated on his penmanship.

Shuffling further into the room, you examined the man, his lack of messy hair and clothes perfectly placed causing you to conclude that he’d probably not slept in the first place tonight.

“What are you doing?” You croaked, Namjoon raising his eyebrows a bit in surprise as he looked up, obviously unknowing of your presence.

Smiling a bit at your appearance, Namjoon let his pencil rest on the paper, his own eyes wide awake as they peered into your sleepy ones.

“What are you doing?” He smiled a bit at your appearance, grumpy expression softened by your swollen eyes and puffed out cheeks as you held the blanket around your body, the man reaching an arm out toward you to welcome you into his side.

You easily accepted the invitation, stumbling toward him and collapsing into his side with a grunt.

Namjoon only laughed at the noise, letting his hands leave the table to instead hug you to him, both arms wrapped around your torso to secure your sleepy figure.

“What are you doing? You okay?” He asked, voice low as he concentrated on your sleepy features. Your eyes drooped as you tried to look at him, nodding to dismiss his question and find out the true cause of him being out here.

“Hm, you seem tired.” He observed, frowning at the sight of you almost nodding off in his arms.

“I had to come check on you.” You said, bracing yourself with a hand on the counter to keep yourself awake and properly focus your hazy attention on the man.

“Are you okay?” You asked, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt in a clingy action. You knew he had left your bed for one of two reasons: either inspiration had struck, or other, not as light thoughts had invaded his brain.

You knew how complex his brain was. You knew how dark it could get in that head of his. And you never wanted him to struggle alone.

“I’m okay, love.” He answered calmly, his tone soft and stable as he spoke the words. Staring into his dark orbs, you detected no deflection of his gaze, only blinking back at you with a gentle smile lifting the corners of his lips. No signs of him faking anything for your sake. He was okay.

Nodding at his answer, you rubbed the pad of your thumb over the soft material of his shirt still held in your hand, humming as he collected your fingers in his and squeezed lightly. It was a gesture born out of appreciation more than anything; before you, it hadn’t been every day that someone was actively checking in on him. Now, it was just a part of his daily routine.

“What are you writing about?” You perked up, the man quirking a sideways grin as he looked up at your curious expression.

“You think I’m gonna tell you?”

At his words, you knitted your eyebrows together in offense, lifting your gaze from the words scrawled across the paper to shoot him a look.

“Why shouldn’t you? You did drag me out of bed, after all. It better be good, Joon.” You jokingly nudged at his thigh, the man’s features fading slightly as he fixated on the remaining imprints on your cheek from the pillowcase you’d been contentedly sleeping on only minutes ago.

“Did I wake you?” He inquired softly, the guilt in his tone causing you to shake your head as you reached over to run your hand through his hair. The action caused his forehead to be revealed for half a second before the hair stubbornly laid back over his skin, leaving his bangs practically in his eyes as he stared up at you.

“The current temperature of our bedroom woke me. But a toasty boyfriend would’ve been nice to cuddle up to.” You said with a raise of your brows, challenging the man with a grin.

Laughing quietly to himself, Namjoon slid his hands beneath your arms, making you squeal slightly as he pulled you onto his lap, rubbing his hand up and down your arm to create heat as he hugged you closer to him.

“Is this better, love?” He asked, smile widening against your temple when you hummed.

It was nice. His body heat was incomparable, his touch electrifying as every area of your skin against his practically burned with the energy it created within you.

“Hm. It’d be a whole lot better if we were in bed, though.” You commented honestly, wishing you were laying in your bed beside the man you loved, both sleeping in order to rest up for work in the morning.

At your words, Namjoon sighed, knowing you were right but unmoving in his quest to finish writing his thoughts tonight. It was simply better to do so when the thoughts were fresh in his brain. If he waited until the morning, they’d be gone.

“Baby, go back to bed. I’ll be there in a few minutes, okay?” He soothed his request with a pucker of his lips against your forehead, eyes lighting with amusement as you shook your head.

“No?” He repeated, making you shake your head again in defiance as you clung to his shoulders.

“Do I have to make you go back to bed?” He raised his eyebrows challengingly, hand moving beneath the blanket draped over your body to rest on your hip, beginning to wiggle his fingers continually against the skin there.

“J-Joon! No!” You screeched, the man laughing as you began shaking with giggles, squirming on his lap as he continued tickling at the spot. Eventually caving to your begs for him to stop, Namjoon shook his head at you as you remained on his lap, trying to catch your breath, but still refusing to go back to bed.

“I’ll only be a few minutes.” He repeated, causing you to stare at him with a doubtful raise of your eyebrows, knowing damn well he would be much longer than that.

Maybe an hour, at the least.

“Promise.” He said, causing you to chuckle as he offered his pinky to you.

“Then I’ll wait it out with you.” You shrugged, locking your little finger around his with a knowing smile as he sighed.

“I don’t want to keep you up, though.” He said, glancing at the clock approaching a now god-awful hour in the morning.

“It’s okay, Joonie.” You said, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek, the man turning his face to gently purse his lips against your own before pulling back to look at you.

“I’m actually kind of glad you’re here. It’s always better when my muse is in the flesh.” He smiled softly, you shyly dropping another kiss to his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder again.

“I’m your muse tonight?” You wondered out loud, the man confirming with a hum as he picked up his pencil again.

“You’re my muse every night. How could I not write a million songs about you?” He squeezed you tighter to him while you blew out a breath at his words, cheeks heating up against his skin causing him to wholeheartedly grin at just how flustered he could make you.

“Joon, stop.”

“Stop writing songs about you?” He asked for clarification, the teasing in his tone lifting all possible tension from the question.

“I,” you started, “well, no.” You answered honestly, Namjoon tipping his head back in laughter at the exchange as he affectionately squeezed you in his arms.

“Good,” he sighed when he had composed himself, “you make it too easy.” He said, smiling at you as you brushed some of his messed bangs out of his eyes again.

“Charmer. Just finish writing your song so we can go to bed, please.” You directed, Namjoon dutifully nodding as he stifled a grin. Taking his pencil back between his fingers, he twirled the utensil once in his hand, giving you a fond glance before setting the lead back on the paper.

“Yes, ma’am.”

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fennopunk · 2 years

Text

Okay, so the projects of this summer for Villa aka the tiny cottage dad built for me when K was 13:

Clean the roof from moss so brother can install new sheet metal roofing (heaven forbid his baby sibling's space has only felt roofing when he could make a metal roofing while he's building a new workshop next to it)

Clean out mom's flea market inventory.

Build a fake stove. I initially meant to only make it look like one, but dad wants it to be a heater too, and we found a tiny tabletop faux fireplace heater and it should be pretty easy to build a shell for it to look like cast iron stove (I'd love a real one but A. they're expensive and B. it's not exactly the safest option in that particular space)

Build a rustic armchair and sew pillows on it

Install window sill

Build a kitchenette/dresser (I want a little sink but we'll see)

Install hooks on ceiling to hang stuff from

Sew a wool blanket and a bottom valance (is that the right word? It's salusiini in Finnish, but I couldn't find a translation)

Odds that I actually accomplish even half are small, but not as minuscule as without meds.

#family cottage #diy projects

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reluctanx · 3 years

Text

𝘽𝙉𝙃𝘼 𝙃𝙀𝘼𝘿𝘾𝘼𝙉𝙊𝙉 >> CLASS 1-B. || Fem!s/o

𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙄𝙉𝘾𝙇𝙐𝘿𝙀𝘿: neito monoma, itsuka kendo, sen kaibara, ibara shiozaki, tetsutetsu tetsutetsu, reiko yanagi, setsuna tokage

𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂 (𝙎) : n/a [?]

-Neito Monoma

!! 🧺 | he’s actually very sweet, just a bit playful with you

!! 🧺 | he cracks joke just to make you laugh because your smile means EVERYTHING to him

!! 🧺 | i’m pretty sure he’s a nerd at color theory and would ALWAYS point out how beautiful your eyes are. even if it has a darker shade, he just knows that it’s a beautiful color that he loves so much

!! 🧺 | he doesn’t let other people touch his bunnies besides kendo, you may also be the exception

!! 🧺 | overly dramatic because he knows you can’t possibly, truly handle his bullshit

!! 🧺 | his teenager crush on you is so adorable, because he’s always in denial. or refuses to admit he have a crush on you

!! 🧺 | seeing that you’re not comparing him to a villain because of his quirk, wether it’s a joke or not. you automatically gain a part of his trust and respect. deadass

!! 🧺 | he bullies people for a reason, and you better deal with that

!! 🧺 | very argumentative, trying to fight with him with controversial topics is useless

!! 🧺 | LET. HIM. TOUCH. YO. HAIR………. pls

!! 🧺 | even if he tries, he can’t keep up late at night. HE WILL fall asleep, so sometimes you’ll be left on read accidentally-

!! 🧺 | when texting… he’s a total different person omg

!! 🧺 | no because if your seat is next to his, he will pass you the answers for the math exam.. (don’t lie, i know you’re a total dogshit at this subject. )

!! 🧺 | he’s a real big fan of Vlad king so you better be prepared seeing some of his merch in his closet

!! 🧺 | seeing you in his clothes makes him feel weird. he’ll try to make fun of you but he’s just really flustered to look at cha’ i swear

!! 🧺 | it’s rare to see him swear, so when he do so.. dear god..

!! 🧺 | HE DOESN’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOUR BODY SHAPE, SIZE OR WHATEVER, HE LOVES YOU THE WAY YOU ARE AND HE WILL REMIND YOU THAT

!! 🧺 | “you love me o’ sooo much it makes you look stupid.”

!! 🧺 | “don’t tell kendo about this, but i like you. for real.”

!! 🧺 | pronouns first with this man, pronouns = priority, pronouns respected. period.

!! 🧺 | he would be such a simp for you..

!! 🧺 | not obsessive or possesive, per se just jealous in a healthy way

!! 🧺 | “i’m literally a low quality version of bakugo.”

!! 🧺 | THEATRICAL, AS FUCK.

-Itsuka Kendo

!! 🧸 | SHE’S LITERALLY A SWEET HEART *SOBS SOBS*

!! 🧸 | she acts like your big sister sometimes.

!! 🧸 | she’s so shy and intimidated when she gets to date you bro..

!! 🧸 | your hero name? your hero costume? gives no shit, she find everything about you AMAZING.

!! 🧸 | you’re the little spoon, don’t prove me wrong, you’re the little spoon

!! 🧸 | she finds you so cute (especially if you have chubby cheeks, cause like uuuUhhh…)

!! 🧸 | she dresses you up when ya’ll get a girl days

!! 🧸 | she doesn’t know how to cook, depending on your cooking skills; either you get to cook or ya’ll order sum shit idk

!! 🧸 | she have a whole romantic cottagecore playlist dedicated for you whenever she thinks about you i swear.

!! 🧸 | you participates in her activity of : “knocking-down-neito-whenever-hes-been-an-ass”

!! 🧸 | can’t even afford to scold you the first time ya’ll meet, you’re so beautiful *sob sob*

!! 🧸 | if you’re in a social group space, you’re her favourite person, ya’ll are the duo of the friend group

!! 🧸 | “can’t sleep? that’s okay me too.”

!! 🧸 | picky, very picky eater. ya’ll may have trouble ordering something.

!! 🧸 | you’re the ticklish person, she’s the tickler. if you’re not, she’ll helplessly try to tickle you..-

!! 🧸 | “SPIDER, SPIDER!!”

!! 🧸 | your luck booster, i stg

!! 🧸 | she likes seeing you with fake cat ears, you look so adorable in her perspective

!! 🧸 | “LET’S WATCH A DISNEY MOVIE!!”

!! 🧸 | fast typer when texting.

!! 🧸 | you’re her angel, you are.

!! 🧸 | wants to be a make-up artist somedays.. so you better be ready and prepare to be a mannequin.

!! 🧸 | “you’re so weird *faces you* you’re so weird.”

!! 🧸 | 256 HOURS LONG OF TALK AND CHATS WHEN SHE ENCOUNTERS A LONG TIME FRIEND AT THE MALL

!! 🧸 | she wants to be a princess, your princess

!! 🧸 | SAY THAT YOU LOVE HER HAIR AND SHE WILL FLUSH

!! 🧸 | “why are you so pretty 🥺’

!! 🧸 | cottagecore lesbians :)

!! 🧸 | holding your hands + kisses + pecks on the lips, physical affection <<<<<<<<

!! 🧸 | gives you her stuffies, trust me she have LOADS of stuffies

!! 🧸 | BLUSHES SO HARD WHEN YOU WEAR HER CLOTHES

Sen Kaibara

!! 📢 | you don’t understand, the amount of love he holds for you is HUGE!

!! 📢 | fairly confident when he’s fighting by your side, you give him confidence..

!! 📢 | bad habits to compare your beauty with his

!! 📢 | trying to make him blush? oh honey, you don’t have to try once you have a relationship with him..

!! 📢 | his smile <<<<<<<<<<<<<

!! 📢 | usually quiet but tends to be talkative ONLY to you

!! 📢 | his heart beats faster and faster when you get close to him, but his face says 😐

!! 📢 | “kiss me already, dummy”

!! 📢 | really likes anime actually, ya’ll watch animes or read mangas sometimes :)

!! 📢 | *strokes strokes, scrubs scrubs your hair gently*

!! 📢 | thinks you look so cute in his clothes but doesn’t mention it

!! 📢 | secretly tries to get one of the things you crave for (an item, celebrity’s autograph idk sum shit)

!! 📢 | mockery against you? not on his watch.

!! 📢 | his love language is physical touch *sobs sobs*

!! 📢 | rubs your hand gently to calm you down when you feel anxious

!! 📢 | old times french love songs of edith piaf is his jam..

!! 📢 | hopeless romantic :c

!! 📢 | insecure? not on his watch,

!! 📢 | gives you his juice box to you and only to you

!! 📢 | you’re his first kiss

!! 📢 | BEST HUG GIVER

!! 📢 | the type to put your hair behind your ears

!! 📢 | “you’re my everything..”

!! 📢 | KISSES YOUR CHEEKS INTENSIVELY

!! 📢 | loves to feel euphoric, you make him euphoric

!! 📢 | you get the blower during summer lmao

!! 📢 | buys you loads of icecreams during summer

!! 📢 | go to the heater side during winter, right now, right here.

!! 📢 | everything you ask somethinh, he’ll answer instantly

!! 📢 | want something? dont worry, sen gotchu’

!! 📢 | SIMP

!! 📢 | wants to be someone truly meaningful to you

!! 📢 | you make him feel special for doing literally nothing

!! 📢 | he loves you, so so much.

Ibara Shiozaki

!! 🌱| literally the momo yaoyorazu of class 1-b but more theatrical

!! 🌱| you kinda just already knew that she have a preference for girls

!! 🌱| “mo- mother nature? what kind of silly things are you spouting out of that mouth of yours…”

!! 🌱| you are literally babied by her

!! 🌱| good baker and easily make your favorite dish/dessert

!! 🌱| you’re her top priority, and she carefully pays attention to you. deadass, she’s the type to wipe your mouth with her favorite tissue while she’s talking about a serious matter with her teamates bro

!! 🌱| she’s such a nerd in the rom-com industry, and gets pretty shy when you proceed to do something that is similar to a scene about one of her few rom-com movies. (ex: kadebon)

!! 🌱| she laughs so easily..

!! 🌱| “you’re so precious.”

!! 🌱| she showed all the symptoms of “crushing” back then, and you already knew that.

!! 🌱| everytime you hype her up, she smiles widely

!! 🌱| she’s so gift giving, she can’t leave you without giving you a gift first

!! 🌱| all the gifts you gave her stays safe and sound in her room

!! 🌱| “i might never be your hero, but i’ll be the winner of your heart.”

!! 🌱| she wants you to wear her clothes so ya’ll can match :)

!! 🌱| she’s quite wealthy, so she buys you some expensive gifts that reminds her of you

!! 🌱| always wrap her arms around you everywhere

!! 🌱| teases you but a lot

!! 🌱| she likes to do gardening stuff with you

!! 🌱| full knowledge on plants, every flowers she offers you was because of a characteristic that reminds her of you

!! 🌱| her efforts to be committed in your relationship is so visible

!! 🌱| always slips a little ‘I love you” everydays

!! 🌱| your love, affection and attention is enough to repay her for her consistent efforts.

!! 🌱| gets easily jealous but tries to hide it, but you obviously can tell due to her uncontrollable blush

!! 🌱| as she is so gift giving, you’ll try to argue with her saying she doesn’t need to give her this much gifts

!! 🌱| she gets overwhelmed when you make out of an exam/mission

!! 🌱| loves to give you a head massage while reading a book

!! 🌱| come and stargaze with her >:|

!! 🌱| kisses the back of your hand

!! 🌱| show you off when she have the chance to

!! 🌱| compared to what you may have assumed, she puts a lot of trust in her words when showin’ you off.

!! 🌱| “everyday and everynight, you make me happy just by thinking of your silly little face.”

!! 🌱| HELPS YOU WITH HOMEWORK

!! 🌱| SLEEPOVERS!!

!! 🌱| she felt insecure about her hair, so the fact that you had he audacity to pet her head made her fall inlove with you.

!! 🌱| gets genuinely confused when you laugh at her dramatic behavior

!! 🌱| her humor is kinda bad, so she may laugh at the stupidest thing ever

Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu

!! 🦈| oh boy, everything would be so wild with him

!! 🦈| you cannot leave the room without giving him a hug first

!! 🦈| awkward, like really

!! 🦈| “you’re the most coolest— beautifulest—…uuh.. person!”

!! 🦈| doesn’t academically succeed a lot, but puts a lot of efforts in his works. every praises you give him makes him smile

!! 🦈| makes you laugh without him knowing

!! 🦈| please, he probably starts to laugh when you start talking too fast because he doesn’t understand-

!! 🦈| in summer, he turns his arms into steel so you can grip against it (since steel is usually cold)

!! 🦈| probably have adhd

!! 🦈| loves to caress your cheeks

!! 🦈| sometimes kisses your little fingers for fun

!! 🦈| buddies to lover trope :D

!! 🦈| uses kaomoji than emojis

!! 🦈| his favorite song is teenage dirtbag

!! 🦈| he requires a good listener as his s/o, because he is a very talkative person and bring numerous topics and persons at the same time when talking to him

!! 🦈| “you’re extra-beautiful..”

!! 🦈| offers a fish related plushie

!! 🦈| shows off his abs for you

!! 🦈| two dumb hoes doing shit trope

!! 🦈| “you kinda remind me of an otter..?

!! 🦈| “wanna be a teenage dirtbag with me?”

!! 🦈| he calls you the popular girl of the school for a reason.. 😭

!! 🦈| calls you tetsutetsu junior when you wear his clothes

!! 🦈| openly admit that ya’ll are in a relationship to everyone

!! 🦈| is actually ticklish himself-

!! 🦈| loves to kiss your forehead

!! 🦈| loves to point out how cute you are

!! 🦈| definitely introduces you to fatgum and kirishima

!! 🦈| he can’t really came up with a petname.. so he’ll give you stupid ones

!! 🦈| as you can tell, he’s clearly not experienced but he tries, for you :)

!! 🦈| okay but power couple

!! 🦈| “if you steal the blankets, i am about to put my cold feets on you.”

!! 🦈| gets out of hands when he’s too excited

!! 🦈| gives you back hugs when you’re not feeling well

!! 🦈| best caregiver 🥺

!! 🦈| adores you

!! 🦈| play games with you :)

!! 🦈| sends you stupid note under the door whenever you’re taking a shit-

Reiko Yanagi

!! 👻|| you managed to get on her soft side when you told her that she wasn’t weird in any ways

!! 👻|| very quiet and patient with you

!! 👻|| really doesn’t wish to disturb or scare you, but she can’t let go of you — you were so nice

!! 👻|| when you tease her.. she’s a blushing mess

!! 👻|| you’re the only person she hangs most of her time with

!! 👻||she thinks that you’re so, so cool.

!! 👻|| doesn’t know how to react to all of your compliments, just knows how to cuddle

!! 👻|| she makes you listen to her favorite genre of music

!! 👻|| she tries her best to make your relationship with her dynamic as possible!

!! 👻|| with that say, praising is one of her top quality

!! 👻|| as much as she doesn’t know how to handle your praise, she can slap you back with her

!! 👻||”hey.. how abour we kiss? uh- um.. if- if you want to.”

!! 👻|| is actually a good kisser-

!! 👻|| her only way to calm you down was to kiss you when you get overwhelmed

!! 👻|| reiko is a really good listener and would literally listen to your 5 hours long story as she stare at you the whole time

!! 👻|| when you mention that her bags were really cool… good job bro, now she loves you

!! 👻|| SHE’S SO CLINGY, LIKE REALLY CLINGY

!! 👻|| unexpectedly good in video games

!! 👻|| “w-whoa.. i didn’t expected you to wear my clothes..you look adorable..”

!! 👻|| gets truly passionate when talking about paranormal facts

!! 👻|| she loves to play with the strands of your hair

!! 👻|| quality time <<<<<<<<

!! 👻|| would always remind you how beautiful you are

!! 👻|| once you have her sweater wrapped around your body, it’s officially yours now because she says so

!! 👻|| soft spokesperson with you bro..

!! 👻|| seems more confident when texting

!! 👻|| she loves taking pictures of you

!! 👻|| she probably wanted to make you visit the beach during the sunset

!! 👻|| she’s so proud of you..

!! 👻|| “oh, you deserve all of the praises of the world.”

!! 👻|| can’t even look at you in the eyes,, you’re so CUTE!!

!! 👻|| never leave you alone, never will or would

!! 👻|| always grips on your shirt so that you don’t get to be lost in a mission

!! 👻|| regularly checks up on you

!! 👻|| gives you LOADS of snacks during lunch

Setsuna Tokage

!! 🐊| COMMITTED IN THE RELATIONSHIP

!! 🐊| literally takes you out everywhere on ya’ll date

!! 🐊| don’t be shy, skateboard with her

!! 🐊| literally asks to be partnered up with you during the sport festivals

!! 🐊| will do everything for you

!! 🐊| have a reptile pet, you’re the only person knowing about that

!! 🐊| CHERISH YOU UNTIL SHE DIES

!! 🐊| “my sweet sweet pumpkin pie!”

!! 🐊| “let me kiss you until you can’t handle me anymore, darling.”

!! 🐊| she loves snuggling to your neck and leave soft kisses

!! 🐊| eyes contact is important

!! 🐊| you’re her favourite person

!! 🐊| ya’ll be ruining your sleep schedule for each other

!! 🐊| you guys always wear something that matches with the other (a hat, item, shirt.. etc.)

!! 🐊| setsuna announces her relationship with you to the class as if she proposed to you in a mariage

aight ya’ll, bye!

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astro-rain · 3 years

Text

delicate; b. barnes

chapter nine- “to have or not to have indoor plumbing”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2.3k

synopsis: no fallout shelter is perfect. sometimes you need to think outside the box... or outside the bunker, that is.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

[A/N]: what did you think of this chapter? what do you want to see next? PLS let me know! :))

Light did not shine through the windows and cast a bronze glow on the floor like it did in the castle quarters. He didn't hear the soft buzz of the cicadas like he usually did in the morning. He didn't wake to an empty room with familiar beautiful Wakandan tapestries.

This was because Bucky Barnes awoke in an underground shelter with no windows, stone reinforced walls, and a sleeping psychologist in the bed next to him. Somehow... this wasn't that bad.

He woke up before her, as to be expected. His body was pretty much programmed to be up in the early morning. That, and any time he slept for too long his mind conjured up remnants of horrors from the past.

The super soldier stood up from the bed and stretched his back and arm. It was quiet. A relaxed, enjoyable quiet. Y/N was still sleeping. He wondered what time it was. He didn't have a watch, and he didn't see any clocks in the bunker. He assumed she probably had her phone, but he wouldn't wake her just to ask the time.

He glanced around the room, and his eyes landed on the panther key. Perhaps he could go outside for a bit, gauge the time, scope out the area, get some sun. He never was overly enthusiastic about the sun, but since being in Wakanda, he had grown to love the warmth.

Warmth was a welcome change from the brutalizing cold Hydra put in his bones. Cold was past agony and torment, but warmth. Warmth was the rich, golden promise of remedy that gleamed on his skin.

Just thinking about it made him yearn for the outside sun and the way it enveloped his skin in amber rays. It felt safe here.

Usually, he couldn't stop his mind from worrying and expecting all the good in his life to somehow crash down around him. However, he couldn’t help but feel safe in Wakanda, no matter what he did. He felt safe in Wakanda and with Y/N, even though they were in a bunker hiding from a country's takeover-

"Bucky?" A raspy voice called out.

He turned around, not realizing he had walked over to the table, where the panther key was sitting. It looked just as regal and ferocious as it did before.

"G'Morning," he smiled.

She sat up on her elbows, avoiding hitting her head on the top bunk.

"How'd you sleep?" she asked. "Nightmares still?"

"Last night wasn't bad," he shrugged. "Still... there, but I got some decent hours in."

"That's good," Y/N yawned. "I'd like to work more on the nightmares soon. See if we can find any improvement. But don't worry, no 'Interpretation of Dreams' shit because I refuse to dignify most Freudian theories."

He let out a breathy chuckle. Sometimes Y/N would go into what he, in his head, called her silly psychologist speech. She would momentarily forget that Bucky wasn't an academic, and use big words to talk about things he'd never even heard of. Sometimes she would slip into psychologist mode when she wasn't "on duty."

"Are we movin' the sessions out here now?" he joked.

"Damn," she snickered. "My bad. No more psych talk in here, I promise."

"It's alright, I don't mind," he shrugged. "S'just you bein' you."

"I guess. I don't know to be anyone else, so."

“I would expect nothing less of you.”

Y/N then moved the blanket off of her legs to stand up out of the bed, just before stopping short, staring at the bed she was sitting on. He could almost see the gears turning in her head.

"Did I make the bed last night in a frenzy of exhaustion and not remember it?"

He laughed. "No."

She furrowed her brows and cocked her head to the side, confused and waiting for an explanation.

"I made it - well, as best as I could... all things considered."

Her face changed, melting into an endearing look of gratitude.

"Thank you Buck," she smiled. "Way better than sleeping on the floor."

She didn't say anything else regarding it, and he was glad. What she didn't know was that he put her in the bed after he made it. She was so exhausted, he didn't want to wake her. The task proved itself exceptionally challenging with one arm. However, super soldier strength and determination was a worthy advantage.

"Do you know what time it is?" he asked.

"Umm," she dragged out, finally standing up from the bed. "Not sure, I'll have to find my phone and- oh shit"

"What?"

"I don't have a charger."

"Oh. I'll uh look around and see if there's one stored down here."

Y/N stood still and looked around the room. Her eyes landed on the space heater and her expression dropped.

"Bucky..."

"What's wrong?"

"Do you remember what I said yesterday about the heater?"

"Not... really. Jog my memory?"

She quoted herself. "I doubt they could get electric or plumbing out here."

"Oh yeah," he still wasn't following.

"There's no shower down here... or toilet..."

He looked around and it hit him. "Oh."

"That's..." she trailed off, "a bit inconvenient."

He saw her begin to fidget with her hands.

"What are we supposed to do?" she asked. "We can't like... pee in buckets or something."

Bucky scratched the stubble on his face, about to suggest something he knew she wouldn't like.

"Well, before you woke up, I was thinkin' about going outside to get an idea of the time and maybe get some sun. We can go out and see if we can find a fresh water source or something. It's not perfect, but it's better than buckets."

"Outside? Is that not dangerous?"

"Danger is a possibility, but we're pretty far out from the castle grounds. I doubt anyone comes out this far or even knows about the shelter."

She took a deep breathe in. "I don't know..."

He could hear the uncertainty and weariness in her voice.

"If you're not comfortable, I can just go look and come back, tell you if it's safe, if there's water nearby," he offered.

"No. I'm going with you."

"I thought-"

"You’re not going alone. I'll grab my shoes and we can go."

Well then.

"As you wish, oh wise one."

"Smartass."

He grabbed the panther key and tossed it to her with a smile.

"So... how does one locate a water source?" Y/N asked, her footsteps beside Bucky's.

The Wakandan sun beat down on them. They'd only been walking for a few minutes, and they were already sweating.

"Keep an eye out for mud. If the ground is wet, chances are there's water nearby."

She nodded.

"Hey," she smirked, "Have you ever heard of Bear Grylls?"

He could hear the smile in her voice.

"No, but I have a feeling whatever that is is being used to poke fun at me?"

She huffed in a fake gasp, feigning over-exaggerated shock. "I'd never do such a thing!"

"Hey! I'm doing this so we don't have to pee in buckets. A teeny tiny bit of gratitude would go a long way."

"Apologies. Please accept my most heartfelt thanks, my dear old friend."

"Who you callin' old?"

"I don't know, does a hundred seem old to you?"

"You know, it’s disrespectful to mock the elderly,” he fake scolded.

"Yeah, well don't disrespect your mental healthcare provider."

"I didn't! You started-"

"Water!" she shouted, cutting him off. “Look!”

In front of Y/N's pointed finger was the end of a tiny stream. The source was somewhere ahead of them. And so they followed, continuing their trek beneath the sun's sweltering rays. It really was oppressively hot.

"Holy..." Bucky muttered.

"Shit," Y/N finished.

He gave her a look and he she shrugged, fighting off a laugh.

They stood facing a beautiful scene: a modest waterfall flowed over mossy stone and poured out into a little pool of crystal clear water. It was quaint and secluded, surrounded by rocks and trees. This was wonderfully fortuitous for the two of them as they were still technically in hiding. The pool of water was relatively shallow; he could see the bottom, but it was still deep enough to submerge his whole body and them some. The pressure from the waterfall looked mild enough to go under; perhaps it could act as a makeshift shower.

"This definitely works. Much better than buckets," Y/N commented.

Then she began to untie her boots, take off her socks, and sit with her feet in the water.

"Holy hell it's hot," she groaned, wiping a hand across her forehead. He noticed that she had been squinting for the last couple of minutes. "Buck, do you know if the water is clean to drink or swim in?"

"Why don't you taste test it? Then we'll know for sure."

She turned her head to him, an emotionless expression on her face.

"I don't give a damn about the super serum, I can and will drown you, Barnes."

A laugh came from deep in his chest. "I'm just playin'. The water looks fine, you should be good."

She cupped her hands to scoop up some of the water and threw it at him.

"Hey!"

"Aw, you look so refreshed now," she cooed sarcastically.

"That was uncalled for."

"Perhaps. Hey, how long until we have to go back?"

"We're not really on a set schedule. Whenever you're ready, I guess. It's not like we have things to do."

"Do I have time to like dunk real quick? It's deathly hot and I don't wanna walk back in this heat."

Dunk in the water? There are no swim suits here...

"Oh-uh... uh y-yeah, do you want me to like... wait over there-or-“

"I’m goin’ in with my clothes on,” she deadpanned. Straight and to the point, like she didn’t want any type of confusion about the situation.

“Oh,” he breathed. “You’d rather walk back in soaked clothes?”

“Yes.”

"I mean sure, knock yourself out. But be careful, some parts look pretty deep."

"I'm know how to swim, Buck,” she smiled. “Don’t fret.”

He hummed an "okay," before looking around the entire waterfall area. Instinctively, he started walking the perimeter, making sure they would be safe. He didn't know how he hadn't done it sooner. He must've been distracted.

The soldier made his way through trees and over rocks until he returned to the spot facing the center of the waterfall pool. He watched as Y/N's head slowly ascended from the water. She opened her eyes, and as her gaze found him, confusion washed over her face.

"Bucky, aren't you hot?"

"I mean, it’s warm, but I think I'm more useful out keepin' watch."

"Are you sure?" she laughed, tossing more water at him.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, clumsily trying to jump and dodge out of the way of the water flinging at him.

Y/N shamelessly continued. "The water's just fine! It's so refreshing and cooooool!"

Bucky's attempts at dodging the water were very much in vain. Soon enough his grey shirt had splatters of Wakandan waterfall water all over it.

He only laughed some more. "Come on! You're comprising our security!"

She stopped.

"Wait- I'm sorry. Am I actually?"

His breathing slowed, but his smile remained. "No, it's okay. I just think it's safer for at least one of us to stay out and be aware. I can go in next time."

"Okay," she frowned.

At the edge of the water, closest to grass, the ground descended into layers, creating a sort of makeshift staircase that sloped into the pool. Y/N floated over to the stairs, and leaned her elbows on the second highest step so that the water settled just below her shoulders. He watched as her legs floated straight up behind her, and each edge of her clothing moved up and down languidly in the water as if they were breathing with its movement.

In response, Bucky sat down at the waters edge, removing his own shoes and socks, rolling up his pant legs and resting his feet in the pool.

"There, now we're meetin' in the middle."

Y/N spared a gentle smile.

"Buck," she asked softly, "can I ask you a question?"

His brows furrowed at the sudden change in tone. "Mm hm."

He was expecting some kind of serious question, but instead, he watched yet another mischievous smirk grow across her face.

"Don't you have to pee?"

He rolled his eyes, and splashed her with as much water as he could cup in his hand. Y/N let out a burst of loud, boisterous laughter, wiping the water from her eyes.

"Why, do you?! Do I have to worry about feeling some warm water!!"

"No! I already went..."

"Oh, ew!" he howled with laughter.

"Not like that! I did it behind a tree while you were makin' your rounds."

"Well thank you for not christening our only clean water source."

"You are quite welcome, James Buchanan Barnes."

His brain slowed at the sound of his full name. He almost didn't feel the barely-there smile that turned the sides of his mouth up ever so slightly. Time became lazy, and his line of sight came to a leisurely stop directly at Y/N's face.

He got a good look at the reflective water droplets all over her skin, and the way some were falling off while others stayed perfectly still. He got a good look at how her waterlogged eye lashes stuck together in bigger clumps, making darker shades of black that contrasted her eye color, and how her wet hair was slicked back and flowed down her neck. He got a good look at the teeny tiny drops of waterfall that settled in her eyebrows, and how he had only been this close to her very few times before.

He couldn't tell why, but he wanted to take a mental snapshot of this moment. The charming imperfection of her was so genuine, so endearing, so alluring. He found himself having a hard time finding the motivation to look away. He must be tired or something.

He hadn’t noticed how still she was as well. But then, gradually, her smile went away, and her face was replaced with a neutral but poised expression. She slowly floated back from him, putting space between them.

"Can we go back now?" she asked. "I think the sun is giving me a headache."

"Y-Yeah, 'fcourse," he said, unprepared to do anything but fulfill her request.

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