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parkerslatte · 3 days

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Relax For Me

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count:

Warnings: smut. wing play. masterbation.

Summary: After Azriel comes home from a long mission, his best friend, Y/N, helps him relax.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

Y/N closed the doors to her balcony and drew the curtains. The sun was only just setting but she wanted an early night, ever since she had woken up that morning she only craved to go back to sleep. Y/N yawned as she shuffled to her bedroom and climbed under the cool covers. She smiled as she did so, basking in the feeling of the cold sheets against her warm skin.

The silk pillow was soft beneath her head and Y/N allowed her eyes to close, wanting nothing more than to drift off into that peaceful unconscious state. As she began to feel herself drifting off, there was a quiet knock at her front door. Y/N groaned and pulled the covers closer underneath her chin. If she ignored the noise then it would go away. However, not even a few seconds later, there was another knock and this time it was more urgent.

With a sigh, Y/N pulled the covers from her body and shuffled back through her apartment and to the front door. She frowned as she opened it, prepared to yell at whoever it was to leave. But as the door opened and revealed Azriel standing on the other side, all the irritation drained from Y/N.

“Hi,” Azriel said quietly, offering Y/N a small wave.

“Az,” Y/N said, blinking rapidly. “What are you doing here?”

“I finished my mission early,” Azriel said. “I thought I would come to see you.”

Y/N stepped to the side and allowed Azriel to step into her apartment. “Come in.” Azriel stepped past her and Y/N closed the door, locking it behind her. “I thought I wouldn’t see you for at least another few days. Did the rundown with Rhys go quickly?” Y/N continued as she watched Az slump in a chair in the corner of the room.

“I haven’t been to Rhys yet,” Azriel admitted. “I came straight here.”

Y/N finally looked at what he was wearing and frowned. He was still wearing clothes covered in dirt and grime, his wings weren’t much better as they were too covered in mud and other things Y/N couldn’t recognise.

“I missed you,” Azriel said, offering Y/N a small lopsided grin.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile back, she had always loved that specific smile of Azriel’s. “I missed you too.” Y/N stepped closer to him and took his hand in hers, giving it a small squeeze. “I would hug you but I don’t want to get mud on my pyjamas. Do you want me to run you a bath?”

Azriel looked down at Y/N’s attire. “Were you about to go to sleep?”

Y/N nodded. “I was, until you came knocking on my door. I am not complaining though.

Azriel reluctantly let go of Y/N’s hand. “I should let you get back to sleep. I will just go straight to Rhys.”

“No, Az,” Y/N said. “You look like you are about to fall asleep if you stand up. Let me run you a bath and get some clean clothes out for you.”

“I won’t say no if you were to do that,” Azriel said.

Y/N smiled. She bent down lightly and kissed his cheek. “I’ll even let you use all of my fancy soaps.”

“I must look like I’m about to drop dead if you are letting me use those. You nearly took my hand off the last time I went to use those,” Azriel jokes.

“You exaggerate,” Y/N replied. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Leaving Azriel in the living room, Y/N entered her bathroom and began to run a bath for Azriel. She placed a brand new bar of her soap in the small dish next to the basin and poured a modest amount of bubbles into it. Azriel would always say that he hated the bubbles but Y/N knew that she loved them. Y/N let the bath fill up and walked out of the bathroom.

“The bath is currently filling up,” Y/N said to Azriel. “You can get undressed in the bathroom. If you leave your clothes outside, I can get a start on washing them for you.”

“Y/N, you don’t need to do that,” Azriel said. “I can do it back at my own apartment.”

“Az, I insist,” Y/N replied. “You look exhausted and all I want to do right now is make sure you have a nice relaxing night. I have some of your clothes here, I’ll leave them just outside of the bathroom.”

Azriel stood from the chair and reached out to Y/N, gently caressing her hand. “What would I ever do without you?”

“I’m unsure as we have been friends for centuries and there is not a moment I can think of off the top of my head where I haven’t been by your side, of course except when you go on missions,” Y/N said.

Azriel rolled his eyes and walked away to the bathroom, closing the door softly behind him. Y/N let out a small breath before settling down on the couch.

***

It wasn’t long before Y/N was interrupted from what she was doing by Azriel calling out her name. From the other side of the door she could still hear the sound of him in the water so she was unsure why she was being called.

“Az?” Y/N spoke through the door. “What’s wrong?”

There was a hesitant pause before Azriel spoke again. “Can you come in here?”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Please,” Azriel asked. “It’s easier to explain that way. The bubbles are covering everything, don’t worry.”

Y/N slowly opened the door and gasped at the sight. The whole side of Azriel’s rib cage was bruised and a small gash was in the centre of it. “Az, what happened?” Y/N rushed over to him.

“It was just something that happened a couple of days ago, it is healing but quite slowly,” Azriel explained.

“You must have broken a rib or two,” Y/N examined the injury. “Or three.”

“I know,” Azriel said, sitting up a bit further in the bath. Y/N couldn’t help but let her eyes drift slightly but once she realised what she was doing, she snapped them back to Azriel, who luckily didn’t notice her brief distraction.

“What do you need me for?” Y/N asked.

A small blush coated Azriel’s cheeks. “It’s embarrassing to ask now you are here.”

Y/N smiled at him. “Go on, it can’t be that bad.”

“I need you to clean my wings,” Azriel replied, his blush deepening. “I’ve managed to do the bottom of them but I can’t reach the top without this stupid injury causing me pain.”

“Oh,” Y/N said, avoiding looking at Azriel directly.

“Forget it,” Azriel said. “It was stupid of me to ask.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Y/N said, fighting the urge to brush the wet strands of hair away from his forehead. “It’s just…you don’t ever let anyone touch your wings.”

“I trust you.” The comment came tumbling out of Azriel’s mouth quickly.

Y/N smiled. “I’m glad.”

Azriel cleared his throat. “Yes, well you don’t need to do it if you don’t wish to. I’m sure I can manage.”

“I will do it for you, Az,” Y/N said.

Azriel didn’t respond, not even when Y/N reached for the small washcloth beside him. He continued to stare straight ahead at the shutters and did not move as Y/N gathered supplies.

“Lavender or lemon?” Y/N asked.

“What?” Azriel asked.

“For the oil,” Y/N clarified. “Lavender or lemon?”

“Um, lavender,” Azriel said.

Y/N smiled softly. “Excellent choice.”

Azriel barely nodded as he fixated his eyes ahead once more. The moment Y/N placed the wash cloth against his wing, Azriel immediately flinched away, splashing water at Y/N in the process.

“Sorry,” Azriel mumbled.

Y/N placed the washcloth back onto his wing. This time Azriel did not flinch away but he was tense. Y/N continued to wipe away the grime until she threw the washcloth down onto the floor. Y/N could see all of the tension in Azriel’s body. She leant forward between his wings and draped her body on his.

“What are you doing?” Azriel asked.

“Just relax for me, Azriel,” Y/N whispered into his ear causing Azriel to shudder.

“I’m finding it quite difficult,” Azriel replied.

“Do you trust me?” Y/N asked.

“Of course I do,” Azriel said. “That's why I asked you to do this.”

“Then why are you still so tense?” Y/N asked.

“Because I know that if I relax too much, then…”

Y/N’s eyes briefly glanced down to where the bubbled obstructed Azriel’s lower half and everything clicked together. She always knew that his wings were sensitive but never realised that he could become so pent up just from her washing them.

“I see,” Y/N muttered.

“You should just leave,” Azriel said.

Y/N wrapped her arms around Azriel’s shoulders. “And why should I do that?”

“Because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Azriel muttered, his hands now caressing her arms.

“You won’t make me uncomfortable, Azriel,” Y/N said, her lips grazing his ear. “All you need to do is relax for me. Whatever happens, happens.”

Azriel slowly moved his head to face her and her eyes flicked down to his lips for a brief moment. She wanted to know how it felt to have his lips pressed against hers.

“Whatever happens, happens,” Azriel repeated, his eyes flicking down to her lips. Unlike Y/N, Azriel didn’t try to hide it.

Y/N pulled away and picked up a fresh washcloth and began to wipe off the grime from his wings. Azriel flinched for a moment before relaxing against the bath, allowing Y/N to wipe all the dirt from his wings. A content sigh left his lips as she did so.

Once all of the grime was gone, Y/N looked at Azriel and did not find one trace of rigidness within his body. “I’m going to use the oil now, if that’s okay with you.”

“I’m fine with that,” Azriel responded.

Y/N poured a generous amount of the oil onto her hands, the aroma filling the room. Y/N rubbed it into her hands and slowly reached towards his wings. She had never touched them before but she had always wondered what they felt like. She was pleasantly shocked to find them quite soft and smooth. The occasional small scar changed the texture, but they were nothing like Y/N imagined them feeling.

Azriel’s breathing changed as Y/N continued her movements on his wings, spreading the oil across them. He took heavier breaths and Y/N could already begin to smell the scent of his arousal cutting through the lavender.

Y/N could tell that she had hit a particular sensitive part on his wing as Azriel gripped the side of the bathtub tightly, his knuckles turning white.

“You can leave if you want to, Y/N,” Azriel said, his voice slightly breathless.

“Whatever happens, happens,” Y/N responded. Despite her not receiving the pleasure Azriel was, her voice was breathless too. The blissed out look on Azriel’s face was one she wanted to see more often.

The sensitive part of his wing proved to be a place where Azriel liked to be touched as a soft moan slipped through his lips. “Y/N…”

“Yes?” She asked.

“Please,” Azriel said, his hips twitched under the water, “don’t stop.”

Y/N leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his wing. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

As she massaged the oil into his wings, Y/N continued to pull sweet groans from the shadowsinger. If Y/N was being completely honest, the sound was music to her ears. She had always been somewhat attracted to Azriel but it was only recently where she had begun to question her attraction to him even more and she was sure that her feelings toward him weren’t completely platonic. He was the most beautiful male she had ever seen and even more beautiful now as he cried out in pleasure. Pleasure that she was causing him all because he trusted her.

“Fuck,” Azriel grunted, hips bucking in the water.

“Do you want me to stop?” Y/N teased.

“Don’t you dare,” Azriel said.

Y/N smirked before draping herself across his back once more, her hand continuing their movements on his wing. Azriel pants were even more beautiful to listen to in her ear as she pressed soft kisses against his neck and shoulder.

“Y/N,” Azriel groaned. “If you don’t stop doing that, I will come right here on the spot.”

“Am I just that attractive?” The question was aimed to simply tease Azriel, it was not meant to be taken seriously at all.

“Yes, you are,” Azriel admitted. “You drive me crazy whenever you walk into a room. Do you know how hard it is to not greet you with a kiss whenever I see you? You are the most beautiful female I have ever seen and you have no idea how long I have wanted to say these words.”

Y/N stopped the movements on his wing. “Do you really mean that, Az?”

“Of course I mean it!” He exclaimed. “And we will talk about it after, but right now if you don’t move your damn hand Y/N, I am sure I will simply die in this bath tub.”

Y/N pressed a kiss against his neck. “Always so dramatic.”

Azriel didn’t respond. His only reaction to her words was a series of loud moans, now not afraid to conceal them. “Y/N, I am so close, my love.”

“Touch yourself,” Y/N whispered.

Azriel didn’t need to be told twice as he released his grip from the side of the bath and wrapped a hand around his cock and began to pump it up and down fast. The sounds came tumbling out of his mouth and Y/N did not want to silence them but she couldn’t help herself as she placed her lips over his. They were soft and fit perfectly against hers.

With his other hand, Azriel reached for her and laced his fingers through her hair, deepening the kiss. Y/N only pulled away for a brief moment. “Come for me, my love.”

With only a few more pumps of his cock and an added pressure on the sensitive parts of his wings, Azriel came panting against Y/N’s mouth. He pressed his lips against hers, craving the feeling once more. Y/N held onto him tightly until his high was over.

Azriel slumped against the bath and further into Y/N’s arms. He slowly caught his breath back and opened his eyes.

Y/N smiled at him. “Hi.”

Azriel smiled back. “Hi.”

Y/N pecked his lips. “As much as I don’t want to leave you right now, I think you should finish up here and meet me in the bedroom because we certainly have a few things to discuss.”

“I think so too,” Azriel muttered.

Y/N pulled away from him, despite her not wanting to at all. Her pyjamas were soaked through but she did not care as she walked to the bathroom door. “There are some clothes just outside for you.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Azriel said.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long,” Y/N said before leaving the bathroom.

With a bright smile on her face, she walked down the short hall to her bedroom. She changed into a new, fresh set of pyjamas and waited for Azriel. It did not take long at all for the bathroom door to open and for footsteps to pad down the hall. The bedroom door was opened and Azriel stood in the doorway. He seemed to quickly dry off his hair as it was sticking up in every direction but Y/N only thought it made him look adorable.

“I love you,” Azriel said suddenly.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Az–”

“I know that this is sudden and I promise that it is not just because you gave me a great orgasm in a bathtub, but I love you. I am in love with you and I have been for a long time,” he admits.

Y/N patted the bed next to her and Azriel walked over and slid under the covers, facing Y/N. “You love me?”

“I do,” Azriel said, reaching out to caress her cheek. “I know I am not good at voicing my feelings and all of this seems so sudden but I need to tell you. We can’t pretend what just happened in the bathroom didn’t just happen and continue with our friendship like normal. I love you, Y/N. If you don’t feel the same way, I understand but I cannot go another day without telling you.”

“Az,” Y/N said, her eyes full of love. “I love you too.”

“You do?” Azriel asked, somewhat shyly.

“Of course I do,” Y/N said. “I thought I only loved you as a friend. But recently I began to notice that friends don’t normally imagine what their friends' lips feel like against theirs. Friends don’t realise that they have always had an attraction to thief friends and find them absolutely breathtaking.” Azriel blushed. “Friends don’t act like a couple. Let’s face it Azriel, we have been acting like a couple for years, minus the kissing.”

Azriel let out a quiet laugh. “I know.”

Y/N smiled before letting out a yawn. “Now as much as I want to continue this conversation, why don’t we go to sleep.”

Azriel smirked before pressing his lips against her jaw. “I thought I could repay you for what you did for me in the bathroom.”

Y/N pulled away from Azriel’s kissed and gently held his face between her hands. “Azriel, as much as I love you, and it feels so good to say that, I was trying to sleep before you arrived here. And if I’m being honest I would rather get a great night sleep with your arms wrapped around me than an earth shattering orgasm right now. Perhaps that can wait until tomorrow. But right now, all I want is to fall asleep in the arms of my love.”

Azriel smiled and pressed a sweet kiss against her lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Y/N said, nuzzling her head into his chest.

Underneath the scent of the soaps Y/N had leant him, she could still smell the familiar scent of Azriel and with that she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

#acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fluff #azriel smut #acotar

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luveline · 22 hours

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Hi, if you have time and any interest, would you write bombshell!reader comforting Spencer after the Maeve arc? Like maybe she’s the only one he lets in, and she just holds him and lets him cry and puts him first.

Will totally understand if you’d rather not/don’t reply!

ty for requesting!! <3 —You come home from months away to find Spencer in love and grieving, so you do what you can. fem, 2k

You didn’t expect Spencer to fall in love while you were gone, but you can’t begrudge him. Not for having feelings for someone who isn’t you, and certainly not for losing her.

You love him, and you’re his friend first.

Your shoes make sharp but steady sounds on the stairs up to his apartment. His building is old but not rundown, lacquered wooden bannister smooth under your hand, his front door immaculate, though the hallway is busy with baskets. There’s ribbon and cellophane everywhere. It’s a sorry sight.

You haven’t brought Spencer anything besides dinner. Unlike yourself, you take in the offerings of his friends and worry you aren’t as caring as you think you are.

Not that he seems in the mood to accept it.

You look down at your mary jane’s and wonder if you’re doing any of this stuff right. Spencer doesn’t even know you’re back in the country, let alone the state. Perhaps he has no interest in seeing you after this long apart, and after such a tragedy. Who wants to see their too flirty friend when they’ve just lost a real love?

You hike the tote up your shoulder. In a chequered skirt and a simple white t-shirt, you’re underdressed. The pasta you’d made and hurriedly wrapped up burns your hip where the bag rests against you, and you have to make a choice now. Let it burn you, standing and staring morosely at Spencer’s door, or face rejection.

You only need to hear his voice. He can leave your pasta out here on the floor if he likes. What’s important is that he’s still alive in there.

You knock on the door.

Nothing. Complete silence.

Nudging aside a basket of dried fruits, you try again. A simple rat-tat-tat.

“Hey, Spencer?” you ask too quietly.

He won’t hear you through the door. Your voice might as well be a whisper if he’s in his bedroom with the door closed.

“Spencer, are you okay, my love?” you ask, louder.

You wince at yourself. My love couldn’t be more raw.

“Sweetheart, I’m just here to see if you’re okay,” you say, knocking again, before leaving your hand to rest on the door. You lean forward, forehead kissing dark wood.

You can’t hear anything on the other side.

“Spencer,” you say with a reluctant swallow, “if you’re home, can you tell me? You don’t have to let me in. Just come to the door.”

Penelope said he hasn’t texted her back for days. Derek said he’d answered the phone once or twice, but beyond that he’s silent. You had a nightmare on the plane home that you’d come back to find him as he’s found his poor girl, or that he’d turn to old vices, or that he’d finally give up. He’s been strong through every horrible thing thrown his way, and now he’s all alone again—

The door opens slowly. You stand up straighter, your surprise a whack to the chest as your heartbeat picks up.

Spencer stands at the door. He looks more tired than you’ve ever seen him, his dark circles bruised like wine stains under his eyes, even his eyelids red and sore looking. His lips are almost colourless, they're so chapped, and his pyjama pants have deep, deep wrinkles at the knees.

“Hi,” you say. “Spencer, how are you?”

His voice rings with disuse. “You’re here.”

“Came straight home when they told me,” you say softly, honestly. “I knew I had to see you. To make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m not okay.”

“I know.” You don’t know if it’s okay to ask to come in, if he’ll close the door at the suggestion, so you don’t. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” You put weight in the wrong places, too much on I’m, not enough on so. “I can’t imagine it. I would never wish this for you, never.”

“You were in Brazil.”

“I was.”

He must be tired of people asking if he’s okay, yet it wants to be asked. You bite it down, and instead offer what may be the key to getting in, or a quick dismissal.

“I made dinner for you, angel,” you say. You choose the pet name more carefully. He used to call you angel to make you feel better. “It’s just pasta, I tried not to make it too heavy in case you're nauseous.”

“I feel so sick,” he says.

Spencer’s curse is that he probably knows why he feels sick, and he probably knows a hundred different remedies or medications or prayers to get rid of it, but nothing can get rid of this feeling. You can be the smartest man alive and you’ll never outfox grief.

“Will you come in?” he asks.

You breathe a short, unbidden sigh of relief. He steps aside to let you in, and you gaze around at his shock of mess, books and blankets and furniture all in the wrong places, but it’s to be expected, and it doesn’t bother you beyond that empathetic hum of hurt tucked under your ribs. You approach his couch covered in books and put your tote bag atop them, turning to tell Spencer you’ll just quickly move these aside, and stopping dead when you see him. The door closed, his face pale, Spencer looks like everything is crumbling down around him. He looks horrified to have to watch, and he looks as sick as he’d confessed.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” you say, meaning it at its surface value. You’re sorry you were in a different country while he faced this alone. Beyond everything you’ve shared, you’re supposed to be his friend, and in a way you’ve let him down. “Please forgive me if you can, Spencer.”

He nods tightly.

“Let me move some of this stuff and we can sit down together, is that okay? Or do you need to go back to bed?”

“It’s okay.”

You do it without the grace his precious books deserve, lugging armfuls of them onto the floor, no time for tidying. You make spacious room for him and you, and your gesture gently for him to come and sit, fingers moving through the air slowly with the suggestion; he doesn’t have to listen if he doesn’t want to.

What is it about you that Spencer would let you in before anyone else? That he’d sit and watch you until you sat down, that his shoulders relax ever so slightly when you settle, your thighs aligned?

Maybe he needs someone who wasn’t there to watch it happen, and maybe you’re like family. You and Spencer may not be in love, but you love one another. Seeing him like this has you wishing you could fix it for him so keenly it’s like your hands are bruised. Pins and needles eat your fingers as you hold a hand to his elbow.

“What can I do?” you ask, murmuring so as not to disturb the quiet room.

“Nothing, I’m sorry. I don’t have anything for you to do, I just…” He squeezes his eyes closed. “I just wanted to see you. You’re the only person who– who–”

His voice lifts to a strangled high pitch as he covers his eyes with one hand.

“Can I give you a hug?” you ask.

He nods into his hand but doesn’t move. You have no qualms with making yourself big, wrapping him up, and guiding his hand away from his scrunched up face to hold you back.

You’re pretty pristine with hugs, as they go. You’re a soft touch. So Spencer holds you tightly and you cradle the back of his head, aware that you’re not who he really wants to be hugging, but okay with it nonetheless. “I’m so sorry,” you say, mouth to the top of his head, your hand stroking with light touches against the nape of his neck. “Spencer, it’s not fair.”

He starts shaking in your arms.

“The only time I got to talk to her face to face was with a gun to her head,” he says, his eye hot where it’s squished to the bottom of your cheek.

“Honey, you had something special,” you say, sort of guessing, because you had no idea Spencer was even talking to someone. Everything you know about the situation you learned from Hotch, but you can read from his level of distress how much she meant to him. “You don’t need to have been face to face to have shared something like that. Love is about connection, and I’m so sorry you don’t get to see her, but you– I’m sorry. You didn’t get all the time you deserved.”

You’d been trying to say that it doesn’t matter if he saw her or not, that their relationship was just as real no matter what, but you know he’s not just mourning her, but the possibility of a life with her he won’t get now.

“I tried everything I had to save her,” he says.

“I know you did. Sometimes we can’t do anything. It’s not your fault.”

He makes a low sound. He’s a quiet crier, sniffling and shaking against your neck.

You love him. Finding out he had a girlfriend was like being stabbed in the chest, an instant sickness, but finding out that she died? To see him in this much pain cuts deeper than a split second of thinking he’d moved on.

“You did everything you could. You did the best that you could. Spencer, you could’ve done everything right and she still wouldn’t have made it, because the world is cruel. This isn’t your fault.”

“It’s always gonna be my fault,” he says.

“No, it won’t be.”

“It will! I’m like a curse, we all are.”

You don’t know what to say. You consider offering placatives, but they’d be empty, and Spencer would know. Instead, you scratch a hand through his curls and try your best to be gentle.

“Well, I’m here for you. I know you know you have a whole team of people who want to be there for you, but I mean it, Spence. You can tell me everything. I’m here for you and I’m not leaving again.”

“You don’t have to go back?”

“I’m staying here.” For as long as you need me goes unsaid.

Spencer should rely on the kindness of all of his friends, and not just you. He needs love. Grief is going to eat him alive, just like it did with Emily; he’ll need everything from everyone, and, no offence to your friends and coworkers, you’re the most committed to giving it to him.

“I never should’ve left,” you say quietly, “but things are different now. You’re my best friend, Dr. Reid.” Your tone turns more playful. “I don’t cook for just anybody, you know?”

Maybe it’s a bit cringeworthy, but you really want him to stop crying.

He laughs weakly and wetly into your collar. “I don’t think I can eat it. I just throw everything back up.”

Aw, honey, you think. “How about a thin soup? I can make you something without any heavy creams. I make the best chicken soup around.”

“Do you?” he asks.

You want to kiss his cheek as you would’ve before you left, but things really are different now. You settle for patting his shoulder. “I do. We’ll have chicken soup, and some fresh bread, and– and you won’t have to pretend you aren’t miserable. Promise. You can be as sad as you want, honey, I just wanna sit with you and make sure it doesn’t get too much.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles.

“It’s okay.” You don’t want a thank you. “I’m glad to be home. Do you think you can get dressed? Let’s go get some stuff for dinner.”

Spencer, to your relief, gets up to get changed without complaint. He checks you’re still on the couch a few times from the doorway of his room. You have no plans on straying far.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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moonstruckme · 3 days

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hi mae:) would you be willing to write a sirius x reader fic where reader just gets hammered and spills all of her family trauma to sirius? like, she’s no longer in that environment because she moved out but they were just really mean and terrible to her and she’s never told sirius but then she finally does and he’s just like “poor baby, let me tell you all of the love and reassurance you never got as a child:(“

Thanks for requesting lovely <3

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 634 words

You worry you’ve traumatized your boyfriend.

Sirius has you tucked firmly under his chin, both arms squishing you to his front, and you’re not sure if the rocking is for you or him or possibly both.

“Sirius,” you murmur, some of the vowels lost due to your malfunctioning tongue. “Baby, m’sorry.”

“What’re you sorry for?” Your boyfriend’s voice sounds thin. He’s had a bit less to drink than you, but his words still sound like they’re written in cursive, strung together by thick emotion. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

You sigh. It feels nice, being cocooned in his warmth like this. He’s squeezing you just tight enough to be comfortable, and he smells more like himself than like rum. Your next inhale, you focus on it. Clove and nighttime.

“I shouldn’t’ve dumped on you like this,” you admit.

“Yes you should have.” Sirius’ lips press firmly to the top of your head. “Sweetheart, I only wish you’d told me sooner. Why didn’t you?”

His sympathy is bringing you dangerously close to tears again. Your first wave has only just dried. “Because I know it’s a lot,” you say, attempting to swallow the blockage in your throat. “S’not like you don’t have your own family shit to deal with. And anyway, I moved out.”

“Baby.” Sirius sounds devastated. “I don’t care what shit I have, it doesn’t mean I don’t wanna hear about yours, too. I always do.” His fingers bunch in the fabric of your top, short nails scratching lightly against the skin underneath. “And I know better than fucking anyone that moving out helps, but it doesn’t fix everything. It can—you can still hurt.”

Where Sirius’ chin touches your forehead, you feel a hot tear drip onto your skin. A pained sound slips from your throat as you pull away from him, taking his face between your hands.

And you’d expected him to look upset, mournful even, but Sirius looks livid. Every sharp angle of his beautiful face is wrathful, silent tears gleaming on his cheeks and dark brows lowered over stormcloud eyes. His hands stay bunched in your top as if he means to keep you tethered to him by sheer force of will.

“You’re good,” he tells you, voice quavering with conviction. “You’re lovely, and kind, and more than enough. Got it?”

“Siri,” you whisper, brushing some of the wetness from his cheeks. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he insists. Some of the harshness has waned from his expression, though, under your gentle touch. “Nobody should ev—” His voice splinters, and Sirius looks frustrated with himself. You want to roll the both of you up in the comforter of your bed and never come out. “Should ever treat their kid that way,” he finishes. He looks you in your eyes, fierce in his earnestness. “I’m gonna love you so hard those fuckers will regret not giving it to you sooner.”

Though you try to stop it, a corner of your mouth tips up. “I love you, too, baby. You can love me as hard as you want.”

“Oh, fuck you.” He cracks a smile at your salacious tone. You stop trying to hold back the rest of your grin, and he grabs your face in both hands, smashing his lips to yours.

The kiss is firm but not harsh, so fond it makes your heart feel like a bruise. Sirius moves to your forehead next.

“My baby,” he says against your skin, both amused and ardent. Drops his forehead to yours. “I’m gonna make up for it. I’m gonna give you everything you never got back then. Do you have any idea how much I love you, sweet thing?”

“I love you, too,” you promise him, pushing against his forehead lightly with your own. “Don’t worry, you already make up for everything.”

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hoshifighting · 2 days

Text

virgin!mingyu x reader

warnings: first time experience, oral, hair grabbing, cock riding, slightly nipple play (m receiving)...

you and mingyu always bicker. it's your thing. teasing, mocking—it's all part of the routine. recently, though, you’ve been working on a college project with wonwoo, mingyu’s roommate.

mingyu had just broken up with his girlfriend from campus a little while ago. wonwoo mentioned that his girlfriend lost patience with mingyu because he didn’t want to have sex with her.

what she didn’t know was that he’s still a virgin.

when you heard that, you felt sad. mingyu isn’t a bad person at all.you remember back in high school when you were the one being mocked for never having kissed anyone. mingyu, hearing all the fuss in the canteen, just walked over and kissed you. it made all the teasing stop.

you didn’t like that the gossip was about him now. one evening, wonwoo excuses himself, saying he needs to go to his parents' home. he leaves you at their dorm to finish the project, knowing mingyu is around.

“hey, can you pass me the glue?” you ask, not looking up from your work.

mingyu, lounging on his bed with a comic book, grumbles but gets up and hands it to you. “you know, you could get it yourself,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips.“

“yeah, but then i’d miss out on this delightful conversation,” you shoot back, rolling your eyes.

there’s a pause, then mingyu sits down across from you, watching you work.

it’s quiet, almost too quiet, and you can feel his eyes on you.

finally, you break the silence.“so, uh, wonwoo told me about you and your girlfriend,” you say, trying to keep your tone casual.mingyu’s expression darkens a bit.

“oh, he did, did he?”

“yeah. i just… i’m sorry. she didn’t deserve to know anyway,” you say, fumbling with the glue cap.

he raises an eyebrow. “didn’t deserve to know what?”

“that you’re… you know, still a virgin,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze.

mingyu sighs and leans back in his chair. “it’s not something i’m ashamed of, you know. it’s just… private.”

“yeah, i get it. people can be really judgmental about stuff like that,” you say, thinking back to high school again.

“like when you hadn’t kissed anyone yet,” mingyu says, reading your mind.

“exactly,” you say, smiling a little. “that day in the canteen… you really saved me from a lot of embarrassment.”

he chuckles. “i remember. your face was so red.”

“oh, shut up,” you laugh, throwing a balled-up piece of paper at him.

he catches it easily, tossing it back. “i just didn’t want them to make you feel bad. you didn’t deserve it.”

“neither do you,” you say softly. “i think i... can help if you want to,” you say softly, feeling your cheeks warm up.

mingyu looks at you, confusion flickering across his face. “help with what?”

you swallow, feeling a bit nervous but determined. “with, you know, the whole... virgin thing.”

his eyes widen, and he sits up straighter. “wait, are you saying...?”

“yeah,” you interrupt, feeling a bit more confident. “i mean, if you want to, that is. no pressure.”

mingyu is silent for a moment, processing what you just said. then he runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit you’ve seen a hundred times. “why would you want to do that?”

“because you deserve someone who cares and won’t judge you,” you say simply. “and because... i trust you.”

he looks at you, searching your face for any hint of a joke or insincerity. finding none, he takes a deep breath. “are you sure? i mean, we’ve always just...”

“bickered? yeah, i know. but there’s more to us than that,” you say, moving closer to him. “i think we’ve always known that, deep down.”

mingyu’s eyes soften, and he reaches out to take your hand. “okay. i trust you too.”

you both sit there for a moment, holding hands and letting the reality of the situation sink in. then, with a small smile, you lean in and kiss him.

you lean in and kiss him, feeling the softness of his lips and the tentative way he kisses back. it’s gentle at first, but soon the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent. your hands move to his shirt, pulling it up and over his head, revealing the smooth skin of his chest.

you break the kiss, trailing your lips down his neck and across his chest. you plant a soft kiss on each of his nipples, hearing his sharp intake of breath, a soft moan escaping his lips. his embarrassment is endearing, but you can tell he’s enjoying it.

“relax,” you whisper, your voice a soft command. “just enjoy it.”

you continue your path downward, kissing and nibbling along his stomach, feeling his muscles tense under your touch. when you reach the waistband of his pants, you look up at him, seeing the anticipation and nervousness in his eyes. you slide his pants down, freeing him from the confines of his clothes.

taking him into your hand, you give him a reassuring smile before lowering your mouth to him. your tongue flicks out, tasting the saltiness of his skin, and you can feel him shudder. as you take him deeper into your mouth, you hollow your cheeks and suck gently, eliciting a deep moan from him.

his hand tangles in your hair, not guiding, just holding, as if he needs the connection to ground himself. you start to move, slowly at first, getting used to the feel of him in your mouth. your spit makes everything slick, and you can taste the faint hint of precum.

you take him deeper, trying to relax your throat as you push him further in. his hips jerk slightly, and you feel his breath hitch. your fingers trail along his length, adding to the sensation, and you glance up to see his eyes half-closed, mouth slightly open in pleasure.

as you increase your pace, taking him as deep as you can, you press a finger gently against the slit at the tip, preventing him from reaching his climax too soon. he groans, the sound desperate and full of need.

“please,” he whispers, his voice strained.

you pull back, letting him slip from your mouth. “not yet,” you murmur, climbing back up to straddle him. you align yourself with him, and with a slow, deliberate motion, you sink down onto him.

the feeling is intense for both of you, and you take a moment to adjust, watching the way his eyes widen with the new sensation. you start to move, rocking your hips in a steady rhythm. his hands find your waist, holding you as if he’s afraid you might disappear.

“god, you feel amazing,” he groans, his grip tightening.

you smile down at him, leaning forward to kiss him again. the kiss is hungry, filled with the heat of the moment. as you move faster, you can feel him getting closer, his breathing becoming more erratic.

you adjust your angle, finding that perfect spot that makes both of you see stars. his moans grow louder, and you can tell he’s right on the edge. you pick up the pace, wanting to give him an unforgettable first time.

“come for me, mingyu,” you whisper against his lips.

with a final, deep thrust, he cries out, his body shuddering as he reaches his climax. the feeling of him coming inside you sends you over the edge as well, and you ride out the waves of pleasure together.

you collapse onto his chest, both of you breathing hard, sweat-slicked and spent. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, and you can feel his heart pounding against yours.

“that was...” he begins, but he doesn’t seem to have the words.

“unforgettable?” you suggest, smiling as you nuzzle into his neck.

“yeah,” he agrees, his voice full of awe and gratitude. “unforgettable.”

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euthymiya · 2 days

Text

two sides of the same coin — ft. kamisato ayato

your husband is aware of your body like it’s his duty. doting as a husband should be, he takes matters into his own hands to offer you a solution that more than satisfies the both of you at the same time

contains: 2k words of pure shame ; fem reader ; periods and period sex ; cunnilingus ; fingering ; freak ayato like the usual ; reader and ayato are married (they refer to each other as husband and wife affectionately) ; ayato cums untouched

He knows. Like some sort of twisted sixth sense, Ayato always knows your body better than anything else.

He enters your chambers at half past five—it’s usually the time he’s most busy, the time when most of his important meetings run through. But he’s here, walking up to you as he shuts and locks the door behind him.

“Ayato?” You raise a questioning brow, “What are you doing here when—”

“I have cleared my schedule,” he cuts you off, eyeing you with a certain hunger you can recognize all too well. He’s quick to make his way over to you, body hovering over yours on the bed as he presses his nose to your cheek and inhales your scent.

“Cleared your schedule…” you repeat, eyeing him for a split second before you gasp, shivering as his lips nip at your jaw.

“Yes, my darling wife,” he chuckles, “it took a great deal of effort to afford myself this time. Do you not wish to be in my presence?”

“Oh, be quiet, will you?” You huff, fingers gripping at the loose hairs surrounding his face, brushing it behind his ear as he shivers at the soft touch.

It doesn’t take long after that—his lips find yours hungrily.

Ayato is impatient when he wants something. He’s never been accustomed to waiting for much, the spoiled thing. Whether it’s as the young master or as the head of the Kamisato clan, he has never had to ask for something twice. You are no exception. You give him what he desires just as quickly, if not quicker.

Today is a bit different, though. Today, you pull away, stopping his hands gently as they play with the hem of your dress, stilling him from exposing your thighs.

“Troubled, my dear?” He raises a brow, pulling away from your lips with glossed, swollen ones of his own. “I’ve already told you, there’s nothing to overthink. I have handled matters for the evening to spend my moments with you.”

“It’s not that,” you hesitate for a moment, faltering when his hand comes to cup your cheek, a delicate thumb tracing your lips. “I…I’m afraid I can’t.”

“Why’s that?” He tilts his head, making you deflate with a pout.

“Use your brain, you treacherous man,” you huff, slapping his shoulder lightly as he gives you a teasing grin. “What happens during this time of month—I know you know. You’ve spent a good deal of time handling my moods enough to be aware.”

“Ah, I see,” he chuckles, eyes twinkling as he leans down to nip below your ear. “I’m already aware of your…predicament. It’s precisely why I’ve come to you.”

“Ayato—”

“You know, I’ve come to learn the most interesting fact the other day. Did you know that achieving orgasm helps significantly with alleviating menstrual cramps? Such fascinating wonders of the body,” he hums. His eyes narrow as he looks at you, something far hungrier than you think you’ve ever seen. “Perhaps we should test for ourselves the validity of such theories.”

“Dear heavens. Your desires have become more and more improper as the days pass, Ayato,” you scold, flustered under his heated gaze, “Would it kill you to have a sense of propriety?”

“Oh, my darling beloved,” he grins, so wholly amused it makes you almost feel like his prey, “You misunderstand me. I’m merely a devoted husband, one who aims to keep my beautiful lady pleased. Surely, it is not a crime?”

“But—”

“Now, now,” he coos, pressing a soft, wet kiss to your cheek before he slowly makes his way between your legs, kissing at your plush thighs as he moves your skirt higher, higher, higher. Until you’re stuttering over your breaths as he presses a kiss just below your belly button. “No need to worry. I assure you, I will handle the mess. Think of it as my way of expressing my gratitude for how patiently you always wait for me, my love.”

Ayato is a man of deep, untamed desires. You’ve learned through your years of marriage. He’s taken you in hushed corners of the estate, places where anyone can hear you, walk past you, catch you red handed for your obscenity. Perhaps they have—you don’t think it outlandish for someone to unintentionally catch a glimpse of your fucked out face, hear his filthy grunts, witness the roll of his hips as his swollen cock splits you in two outside of your chambers where he should be having you.

The people of the estate are kind enough to afford you ignorance to their knowledge if they do happen to have been unfortunate passerbyers. It’s to your relief, and you suspect it’s to Ayato’s great disappointment.

Such a shamelessly filthy man, you think.

You don’t have time to really dwell on your husband's improper desires, however. Not when he’s so quick to disrobe your lower half and leave your pussy bare.

He hums, pressing a kiss to your clit, earning a shiver from you as you whimper.

“Ayato, this is filthy,” you whine, “You’re being utterly obscene.”

“Do you really wish for me to stop?” He challenges, “I shall end this the moment you ask—go on, my precious wife. Ask me to stop and I will.”

You can’t. It’s the shameful part of this whole ordeal—your cunt is aching for him, for his tongue, his fingers, his touch. Anything. There is no stopping Ayato, but not because he is good at taking what he wants. It’s because you are terrible at denying him. Deep down, just as much as he wishes to have you, you wish to give him yourself.

It’s a horrid realization you try to deny. But it’s a simple truth. You and Ayato are a match perhaps even Celestia themselves would be shocked by—the pure lewdness of your natures are perfectly in sync. His more bold, and yours more hidden, of course. But they are one and the same at their core.

Ayato aches for you, and you ache to give yourself up. It’s a simple arrangement of things.

“You are a wicked man,” you huff, hand burying into his locks as you twist your fingers around the strands and pull harshly. Like a punishment. He groans, a lewd sound that makes your walls quiver around nothing—of course, he relishes in the slight sting at his scalp from your actions. “Get on with it then,” you say without meeting his smug, humored little eyes.

“As you wish, my love,” he says smoothly. His lips are curled in a predatory smile, eyeing you with the slyness of a fox who’s cornered a small, helpless rabbit. But even with his teeth bared, Ayato is gentle.

He gives kitten licks to your clit, rolling his tongue teasingly over the sensitive nub as you shake and give him a soft gasp. And because you are just as good at getting what you want from the man, you look down at him with the softest, pleading eyes as you beg, “Ayato, my darling. Do spare you poor wife the teasing will you? Don’t you love me so?”

He lets out a shaky exhale at that, breath hitching as he closes his eyes and takes a sharp breath. “I believe you are just as wicked as me, my dear,” he says hoarsely.

And then his lips are attached to your clit, sucking around the nerves as you whine, head thrown back against the pillows, hips bucking into his mouth as he moves down to lick a stripe at your folds. You should be ashamed of your dripping cunt—of the filth mingled in with the slick. But Ayato has no qualms. He’s exceedingly happy, in fact, groaning in some sick pleasure of his own as he tastes you on his tongue, the vibrations leaving you sensitive and quaking.

“Oh, Ayato,” you moan, a high pitched little sound that makes his cock twitch in his pants. He pants into your pussy, hot breath fanning over your entrance as he rubs his achingly hard cock against the mattress, right through his pants. “Ayato, please—I c-can’t…”

A finger prods at your folds, sinking in slowly. You mewl at the intrusion, arching your back as he slips in another and gives a shallow thrust of his wrist. His tongue flicks back and forth against your clit, eyes hooded as they stare up at your broken expression.

“Fuck,” you curse. Such obscenities are only uttered by you when Ayato has his way with you—when he strips you bare of your formalities and turns you weak against your own etiquette. “It…it feels so good, Ayato. M-more—please.”

He chuckles, planting a wet kiss, then another, then one more against your clit before he thrusts his fingers into you again, brushing against the spongy, delicate spot in the back of your walls that has you seeing stars. You sob, tugging at his hair and pulling him closer to your cunt, grinding your clit against his mouth as he hums at the action.

“I’m close,” you whimper, “S-so—oh, gods.”

You break. Completely shatter. Never have your walls fluttered quite like this, spasming around his fingers in the most overpowering orgasm you think you might have had. His tongue swirls along your clit, long and slender digits brushing along your walls and dragging against every sensitive ridge. He hits that spot you’re most weak to so perfectly, precise and almost cruel as he brushes his fingertips against it without mercy.

The pleasure is so much that it’s almost too overwhelming. It makes you feel out of body, makes you shake under his touch as you let broken cries fall past your lips.

Ayato is not faring any better. You’re everywhere. Your taste lingers on his tongue, your heat envelops his every breath, your precious sounds invade his ears. Even your thighs that squeeze around his face suffocate him with you. It’s almost enough on its own to send him over the edge himself—and when he rolls his hips against the bed, he can’t help but choke on his own groans, spilling into his pants with heavy twitches of his throbbing cock. Hot ropes of his seed soil his pants, but he couldn’t possibly care—not when you’re whining above him and tugging his hair to pull him away.

“P-please,” you pant breathlessly, “please it’s too much.”

Sensitive, he notes. You’re more sensitive during this time than the usual others. He’ll make sure to have fun with that later—for now, he pulls away, eyes hazy and blissed as he looks up at you with such infatuated pupils.

“You are unearthly beautiful, my love,” he whispers. “Have I ever mentioned that?”

“Plenty,” you say exasperatedly, plopping an arm over your face as you hide the flustered expression on your face.

He laughs, pressing a kiss to your thigh, grinning as a dull, red stain is left in the wake of his lips. So filthy—but he enjoys it so deeply.

“Then I must remind you again. You are exceedingly breathtaking—I could not hope to deserve such a marvelous sight in any lifetime.”

“Enough flattery, you evil husband.”

“Evil?” He gasps, playfully offended. “I’ve taken such great care to help you in your moments of pain. Do tell me, were my findings correct? Has it helped your pains to come undone on my tongue?”

Ayato likes taking you. You like giving yourself up. Two filthy sides of the same coin.

You hum thoughtfully, wiggling your hips before your hand tugs him by the hair to bump his nose against your clit. “I wasn’t paying attention. Try one more time so I can be certain.”

“Ah, of course. As you wish, my love,” he breathes excitedly.

I uh….I don’t really wanna talk about it🚶‍♀️

#writing tag #ayato x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #ayato x you #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #ayato smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut

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icyminghao · 1 day

Text

a bouquet a day

pairing: seungcheol x gn!reader genre: fluff, meet-cute, florist!reader warning(s): none word count: 1.1k

summary: you find yourself noticing a certain good-looking man frequenting your flower shop daily, and you’re dying to get to know him.

a/n: this was loosely inspired by @hoshipills’s idea of a seungcheol mafia x florist au!!! though it isn’t implied that seungcheol is a mafia here, i still thought the idea was rly cute and wanted to expand on it :)

He’s here again.

And by ‘he’, you mean the gorgeous, almost intimidating-looking man who comes by your shop to purchase an extravagant bouquet of flowers almost daily. He’s always dressed in the darkest of colours, and today is no different as he adorns a black turtleneck with black slacks, looking very much like the grim reaper.

You usually tend to stay judgement-free when it comes to your customers, but this man in particular has been coming one too many times for it to be considered normal.

But then again, who are you to judge, right?

“Hi, again,” the man practically squeaks before clearing his throat, the tips of his ears turning slightly red, “May I get a bouquet of daisies this time, please?”

“Sure! You can take a seat here for a while, I’ll get it ready as soon as possible,” you gesture to the lounge area of your shop like it’s the first time that man has been here (it definitely isn’t), before turning to prepare the bouquet he had requested.

“Take your time,” you hear the man reply, and you smile as you get to work.

“What’s your name?” you ask a few minutes later, as the man is standing behind the counter and as you’re keying in his order on your tablet.

The man’s eyes widen, seemingly shocked at the fact that you’d started a conversation with him. “I—”

“I- I’m just asking because!” you cut him off suddenly, feeling like the shop got hotter, “Because you come here quite often, but I don’t know your name.”

What’s wrong with me? you think, mentally chastising yourself for your erratic behaviour, why are you explaining yourself?

“Seungcheol,” the man, or Seungcheol, replies after a beat, the softest of smiles resting on his face as he watches you try not to die from embarrassment.

For some reason, you’re unable to form a coherent sentence, finding yourself nodding instead as you push the bouquet of daisies on the counter towards him before holding up the card reader so Seungcheol can pay.

“What’s your favourite flower?” Seungcheol asks as he taps his card on the reader, eyes never leaving yours as he does.

You pause, mouth opening and closing like a fish before you slowly react, “Daisies. I love daisies.”

Seungcheol’s smile stretches wider, and he pushes the bouquet on the counter towards you. You blink, confused.

“For you,” Seungcheol nods towards the flowers, “Thank you for accommodating me every time I visit.”

To your surprise, he turns and leaves before you can reply.

Huh, you think, gaping at the door in confusion before turning to go back to work after a while, I’ll have to prepare some flowers to thank him tomorrow.

To your disappointment, Seungcheol doesn’t show up the next day.

And the next day, and the day after the next.

By the fifth day, you’re starting to come to terms with the very real possibility that Seungcheol isn’t coming to the shop anymore when he suddenly bursts in five minutes before the shop is due to close.

He’s panting a little, hair slightly disheveled, and you suppress the urge to reach over and fix it for him. Instead, you simply stare at his figure in front of the door, confusion written all over your face.

“Hi,” he breathes out, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Hi!” you chirp, wincing at the unnaturally high pitch of your voice, “Are you here to shop flowers again?”

“Yeah! Um, no—” Seungcheol stutters, and you try your hardest to keep a straight face, “I just wanted to apologise for rushing out like that the other day.”

You blink. “Oh! It’s okay, you must’ve been busy.”

Seungcheol chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck, and silence ensues between the two of you.

“Um!” you pipe up after a while, briskly walking behind the counter upon remembering something, “I… wanted to give you this. To thank you for the daisies the other day.”

Placing a bouquet of handpicked flowers on the counter, you slide it closer to Seungcheol and gesture for him to come forward.

“These are…” Seungcheol’s ears are visibly redder, though you can’t quite understand why. Perhaps the shop is too cold?

“Pink roses! They represent gratitude,” and admiration, but Seungcheol does not need to know that.

“T-thank you,” Seungcheol replies, a soft smile resting on his face, “I’ve never received flowers before.”

“Oh! Well,” you panic, “I hope your partner wouldn’t mind that I’m giving you these. It totally slipped my mind when I was preparing these and I’m truly sorry if I’ve overstepped!”

Seungcheol is silent for a moment, as if taking his time to process what you’d just said, before tilting his head in confusion.

“I… don’t have a partner,” he explains, looking slightly sheepish.

At this point, you want nothing more than to bury yourself somewhere and never face him again. “I’m sorry! I just thought you had one since you’d come here every day for a bouquet of flowers, but then again I shouldn’t have assumed anything, so I’m so—”

“I came here for you,” Seungcheol interrupts, and your eyes widen. “I’m sorry?”

“I’ve been coming here every day for you,” Seungcheol repeats himself, looking slightly nervous, “I walked in here by chance a few weeks ago and was so taken by you I just couldn’t help coming here every day just to see you. I thought you might find me weird, so I started buying a bouquet of flowers every day so you wouldn’t suspect anything.”

Your mouth opens and closes like a fish, Seungcheol’s words having quite literally rendered you speechless. You watch as Seungcheol’s expression gradually morphs into one of panic, having misintepreted your silence as discomfort.

“All that to say! I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable in any way, if I’ve weirded you out, I’ll be more than happy to leave and never come back again,” Seungcheol rushes to explain himself, his voice gradually getting softer, “But on the off-chance that what I’m feeling right now is mutual, would… you allow me to take you out on a date sometime?”

You smile, heart nearly beating out of your chest, “I wouldn’t be opposed to it. The date, I mean, not the part about you leaving and never coming back—”

You’re interrupted by the melodious sound of Seungcheol’s laughter, and you can’t find it in yourself to be mad about it.

“Well, then,” a soft smile rests on Seungcheol’s face, “Would you please do me the honour of giving me your number?”

masterlist

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @slytherinshua @viscade @pepperonidk @belladaises @tastymintchocolate @dahliatopia @kwantaro-deactivated20240614 @chanceonceli @hrts4hanniehae @leehanascent @nonononranghaee

#ICY WRITES #kflixnet #k-labels #caratlibrary #caratsland #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #svt fluff #svt x reader #svt imagines #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol imagines #scoups x reader #scoups fluff #scoups imagine

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i-am-baechu · 3 days

Text

♬ Summary: The world knows that they’re a couple but Jungkook can’t stop himself from telling everyone that Y/N is his girl. While Y/N can’t help but love her drunk fiancée even though it's embarrassing.

♬ Pairing: Established relationship; Jungkook x reader

♬ Rating: Pg - 14

♬Genre: Established relationship, comedy, and fluff

♬ Part of, ‘ His Fan Girl

♬ Playlist: Espresso - Sabrina Carpenter

Y/N looked at the mirror and frowned. She turned towards Jin with a nervous look, “Is this too much?”

Jin looked at her through his glass and shook his head, “You look perfect.”

They were all getting ready for Hoseok’s listening party. Jack In The Box was a huge change for Hoseok and she was excited for him. Throughout the whole process, Y/N would send little gifts to him and even showed up during filming. Jungkook melted at the fact she was so supportive of his brothers. It made him love her even more.

Today was the party and she was nervous. She wasn’t used to meeting with other celebrities let alone be in the same room with them. She talked to Hoseok about it and told him that she didn’t think it would be a good idea for her to be there...she didn’t want to embarrass anyone. Hoseok told her that was nonsense and begged Jungkook to get her to say yes. After Jungkook begged her, she finally said yes (it also helped that he ate her out but that's just a minor detail).

Y/N played with the end of her skirt and glanced at Jungkook who was on camera with Hoseok. That was another thing that made her so nervous. The cameras. Jungkook made it very clear that they wouldn’t film her but her voice will be heard in the clips. It was a nerve wrecking thing to think about for her. She knew this was Jungkook’s life but it was still hard.

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror and stared at herself. She was wearing a simple white dress that had bows on her shoulders. Her hair was how she usually had it. Nothing crazy. Jungkook glanced at her and frowned when he saw that familiar face. He got up after talking to Hoseok and made his way to her. She looked up when she felt a hand on her shoulder, “Hey...”

“Hey babe. I know that face, what’s wrong?”

“Just nervous. I’m going to be with other celebrities, it's crazy to think about it.”

Jungkook rubbed her shoulder gently and kissed the top of her head, “You're the only star in my eyes. There's something else bothering you.”

She frowned and nodded her head, “The cameras.”

“They won’t film you, I’ll make sure.”

“I hope Army likes my voice.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes at this, “They love you just as much as I love you.”

She glanced at Jin who was talking to Jimin with the camera following them. She let out a sigh and then looked at him with a smile, “I heard Eunwoo was coming. That’s good for me.”

Jungkook frowned at this, “Why?”

“He’s the only person I know.”

“You know bts...talk to them more.”

She let out a small laugh and shook her head, “Are you jealous?”

“No, you're my fiancé. I have nothing to be jealous about.”

The party started and Y/N watched from the sidelines. Watching Jungkook avoiding everyone was funny but it was very Jungkook. She took a sip of her water and smiled when she saw him dancing with Hoseok.

She was going to walk away but stopped when she saw Eunwoo. She smiled to herself and walked towards him, “Eunwoo, it’s been awhile.”

He turned around and smiled at the short girl, “It’s been awhile. I hope you liked the flowers I sent.”

She smiled and glanced down at her glass, “I did. Thank you for congratulating us on our engagement. It meant a lot.”

“I heard your interview, you did a good job.”

She frowned at this and nodded her head, “Thank you, it was nerve wracking. I think it could’ve been better...”

Eunwoo shook his head and placed his hand on her shoulder, “You put too much pressure on yourself. It was good.”

“Y/N.” She turned around to see Jungkook walking up to her with a glass of champagne in his hands. She let out a small laugh when she saw his buzzed out face, “I was missing you.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist as Y/N patted his head gently, “I missed you too.”

Eunwoo smiled and brought his glass up, “You guys are cute.”

“Thank you. I’m going to get him to drink some water now.”

“Good luck with that.”

She walked towards the bar as Jungkook never let go of her waist. It was awkward but somehow she did it. She kissed the side of his head and smiled, “How much did you have, babe?”

“Not that much. Why are you talking to Eunwoo? I missed you around my arms.”

“Am I not allowed to talk to him?”

“No, because I missed you.”

She made him sit next to her and let out a small laugh when she saw his pout. She pushed some hair back and brought the water towards him, “I missed you too. Now drink some water.”

“I’ll do anything for my girl.”

She felt her face flush and shook her head, “Don’t drink too much. Okay?”

“Okay.”

An hour later, Y/N was talking to Jin about Eunbi when she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder, “Are you Y/N?”

She turned around and her eyes widened when saw who it was, “Jessi?”

She smiled at her and nodded her head, “You look so young. You're also hot.”

Y/N’s face turned red and she bowed at her, “T-Thank you for the compliment...How did you know I was Y/N?”

“Your fiancée won’t shut up about you. I wanted to see with my own eyes. He’s right, you are hot.”

Jin let out a laugh and looked at Y/N, “Someone’s in trouble.”

Her face dropped and glanced at Jungkook who was talking to a group of people. She looked back at Jessi with a nervous face, “Wh-What is he saying?”

“My girl is so hot” and “she's the love of my life” that’s it really. He did say that this dress makes your body look good. I agree with him.”

She bowed at her and gave her a nervous smile, “Thank you. I’ll be right back.”

Y/N gave Jin her water and ran towards Jungkook with an embarrassed face. Jessi turned towards Jin and let out a small laugh, “She’s cute.”

“She is.”

Jungkook looked at Y/N and smiled, “My beautiful fiancé is here.”

Hoseok let out a laugh and patted Jungkook’s back, “I know I see that.”

Y/N frowned and looked at Hoseok, “How much?”

“Four glasses.”

She glanced at Jungkook and then back at Hoseok, “He got drunk that fast?”

“Well, he didn’t eat anything until the party started.”

Y/N sighed and shook her head at this. She turned towards Jungkook with a frown, “You promised me you wouldn’t drink a lot.”

“My cut off was four. I’m still here. Not drunk, just tipsy.”

“You’ve been telling people that I'm hot...I’m taking you home.”

Jungkook frowned at this and shook his head, “I have to take a picture with hyung. Also, you are hot. I want everyone to know.”

She shook her head and felt her face red, “You told Jessi that this dress makes my body look good.”

“It’s a sin to lie.”

She let out another sigh. Jungkook tipsy just means he’s more clingy and that’s not a bad thing, normally. It's a bad thing now because they weren’t with just the members or in their house. They are with other people, people who are famous and basically his coworkers.

“Go take your pictures and then I’ll take you home.”

Jungkook turned towards Hoseok and smiled, “Let’s go hyung.”

She watched them walk off and she shook her head at him. She saw Taehyung making his way to her and she smiled but her smile quickly dropped, “Jungkook’s telling everyone that you're the hottest thing he has ever seen.”

“Lord save me.”

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts jungkook #bts namjoon #bts seokjin #bts taehyung #bts jimin #bts yoongi #bts x reader #bts hosoek #Bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #his fan girl

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enassbraid · 2 days

Text

HOW CLICHÉ!

Ft. Umemiya Hajime, Kaji Ren, and Kiryu Mitsuki

-> Wind Breaker boys as dating tropes !

cw) fem!reader, reader is one year younger than hiragi in umemiya’s part for clarification, kaji and his poor communication skills slight manga spoilers in kiryu’s part (umm can we get his backstory ??), allusions to cheating in kiryu’s part (srry)

UMEMIYA… but he’s your brother’s best friend

When Toma asked you what you thought of Umemiya the first time he visited the Hiragi household, you merely shrugged. “He’s alright I guess,” you replied. “I like him a lot more than some of your other friends

You only partially lied. You did like Umemiya far more than your brother’s other friends, but calling him alright was underplaying your true thoughts. He was far more than “alright.” He was sweet, charming, lively, and in your opinion, beautiful. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve assumed it was love at first sight.

Unbeknownst to your dear brother, that meeting wasn’t going to be the last between you and his best friend.

It wasn’t wrong per say, but it wasn’t exactly right either. Sneaking around behind Toma’s back to meet up with his friend definitely robbed you of any “sister of the year” award, but who could blame you? Umemiya caught your eye, and you weren’t about to look away. It’s just a coincidence that your brother met him first. If you had met him before, it would’ve been you introducing him to his best friend.

But what started off as a casual thing soon turned into something far more serious.

You used to sneak glances at one another at the dining room table whenever he stayed over for dinner, hoping and praying that the older Hiragi wouldn’t notice the small smiles Umemiya was giving you. But now, he’s stealing short, sweet kisses from you every time Toma wasn’t looking.

Of course, he got bolder and bolder the longer he went without being caught.

“Why’re you so stiff?” Toma asked, noticing how tense you looked on the sofa. The light emitting from the TV shined on your face, making your nervous expression visible from across the couch.

Umemiya was seated between you and Toma, opting to hold the bowl of popcorn for you both to avoid any sibling clashes. At least, that was his cover-up. In reality, he just wanted to be next to you, which led to your current dilemma: trying to hide the fact that the gray-eyed boy’s lips were on yours mere seconds ago while your brother was too engrossed in the film that was playing.

Your mouth opened just to close again. You weren’t entirely sure of what to say in this situation. Toma’s eyes flickered between you and the thriller movie, assuming that there was some sort of connection between the two. “Are you waiting for another jumpscare? I’m pretty sure the one from earlier was the only one.”

Your silence prolonged, and the arm next to yours nudged you cautiously. It was quite hard to find any words right now after what just happened, but your behavior was growing suspicious.

“Uh, yeah… it just caught me off guard ‘s all,” you lied sheepishly, feeling Umemiya’s gaze lingering on your frame next to him. “I’m okay though, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

”Ah, alright then. Just checkin’.”

You saw Umemiya let out a sigh of relief, as both your anxieties faded after such a close call. You saw his risky move from a mile away, but you didn’t think he’d go as far as to use tongue. If it weren’t for that, you wouldn’t have yelped, and your older brother wouldn’t have taken his attention off of the movie. You were just lucky that Umemiya was able to pull away as fast as he did, otherwise, you both would’ve been screwed.

As much as you complained about all the close calls you’ve had, you’d be lying if you said the risk wasn’t one of your favorite things about your relationship with Umemiya.

From sneakily hiding Toma’s phone to give you and Umemiya alone time while he searched throughout the house, to making out in the kitchen in the middle of the night. None of these moments would’ve had the same thrill if it were under different circumstances.

Toma finding out about you and Umemiya’s relationship was future you’s problem. Right now, you could only worry about hiding Umemiya’s hand on your thigh beneath the thick, plush blanket the three of you shared.

KAJI… was your best friend, he just didn’t know how to admit he wanted to be your lover.

“Friends don’t do this kind of stuff,” you mumble into Kaji’s shoulder, arms wrapped around his neck.

He didn’t need to reply for you to know what he was thinking, ‘I know.’ The way he held you close as his leg was thrown over yours spoke for him. ‘I know this isn’t what friends do, but you're more than a friend.’

It wasn’t like he was stringing you along intentionally, but in moments like these, it sure felt like it. He knows how he feels, he knows how he thinks, and he knows he can’t put those thoughts and feelings into words without struggle. So he asks himself: why the hell does he do this to you if he refuses to admit his feelings?

Friends don’t hold hands at every chance they get, but you and Kaji always do when no one’s looking. Friends don’t fall asleep on the phone together because they can’t sleep without a fragment of each other’s presence, but Kaji calls you every night so he can sleep peacefully. Being “just friends” doesn’t mean cuddling for “no reason,” but here you and Kaji were, snuggling to your hearts’ content.

Yet that’s just a small portion of the list of things Kaji has done with you because— in his words— “you’re my best friend.”

He can feel your quiet sigh, something that causes his index finger to start tracing circles on the back of your shirt unconsciously.

”You’re still not gonna answer, huh?”

His movements stop, and he’s left to face his inner thoughts head on. He wants to answer— really, but he’s unsure of how to start. “We’ve never been just friends” is too cocky, and would dismiss any frustrations you’ve had with your relationship up until this point. If he outright admitted what he thought, that being “I don’t know what to say,” it wouldn’t end well at all. However, his heart settled before his mind could conclude its train of thought.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

You quirked a brow, curious as to where he was going with this.

”I’m sorry if you thought I was leading you on,” he said softly— an unusual tone for the blonde. “I just… I can’t imagine life without you.”

”So you chose to act like we were a couple without confessing?”

”Yes— no—, it’s confusing, okay?” He admitted. “I didn’t know how to tell you how I feel… so I was waiting for you to tell me first. I know it’s not an excuse, but—“

”I was waiting for you to man-up and tell me yourself,” you interrupted, eyes widened in slight shock at the irony.

Kaji could only feel his own heart pound against his chest. Not only did he finally confess (though indirectly), but he finally knew what had been taking so long, and he felt like an idiot.

He groaned in embarrassment. “All that time, and we were wasting it on waiting for each other to speak up.”

Only a giggle could escape your lips. Kaji pulled away from the top of your head, eyes peering down at yours to feel the strength of your connection. He always stared at you— admired you, for he’s been enthralled by your beauty for years. All those times you caught him staring, he snapped his head away in the other direction, cheeks flaring red. This was different, though. He gazed at you lovingly, and you could feel all the unspoken words in the eye-contact.

”So… we’re actually together together now, right?” You queried.

He didn’t need to scramble for words to respond this time. “Yeah, together together,” he confirmed.

He always worried that you’d no longer be his best friend if he confessed. But if he could go back in time and tell his past self one thing, he’d tell him that it’s possible to have a best friend and a lover in the same person.

KIRYU… just needed a second chance

The only thing you can recall from your third year of junior high was your brief relationship with Mitsuki Kiryu.

It wasn’t something you enjoyed looking back on in the slightest. Despite being a typical, short, corny middle school relationship, the impact it had on your person was long-lasting. You believed Kiryu was your first love, and he chose to stab you in the back when you least expected it.

Everyone told you how you should’ve seen it coming, going on about how cocky guys with inflated egos were the ones to steer clear of. Of course, you ignored their warnings, and you’d go on to regret it deeply.

You couldn’t trust a soul since then. What he had done to you hurt, and there hadn’t been a day since where the wound didn’t ache. He was your first boyfriend, and likely your last for another while.

But you knew it was possible to meet the same person twice, which is what you thought you were experiencing now.

”I know it’s been awhile,” the pierced boy said solemnly. “But I need you to hear me out.”

In your eyes, the flowers in his hand were there for show. You could only roll your eyes at the desperate behavior before making an attempt at slamming the door in his face, to which he stopped with his foot and freehand.

“Please,” he pleaded.

The 15 year old in you from junior high took over, opening the door all the way and leaning against the doorframe.

“This better be good.”

”I won’t waste your time, not again.”

And he stayed true to his word.

“I know what I did was wrong— awful, even. And I know my words sound empty, but I swear I’m being genuine here. I want a redo of us. I’ve changed, I’m not the same insecure, egotistical loser who bases his worth on the amount of girls he can get,” he said with a serious tone, one you weren’t used to hearing from him.

He slowly held out the bouquet of flowers to you. “I know there’s no apology that’ll cut it… but I’d like to prove myself.”

You took the bouquet from his hand gently, noticing that they were bluebells, a deliberate choice he had to have made considering what had happened.

”Do you promise to be constant this time?”

“I promise to be anything you need me to be this time,” he replied earnestly.

You hesitated. As much as you believed him right now, no amount of flowers or apologies could make up for the hurt he’s caused you. You knew that, and so did he. Taking him back right away would bear consequences, ones you weren’t ready to face.

”Let’s take our time,” you compromised. “We can start slow, and decide on whether or not this should be official again later down the road.”

Kiryu nodded, understanding the trust that had to be rebuilt before getting back together. “That’ll be okay.”

It was gonna be painfully slow, but he was willing to prevail if it meant seeing you happy again. It’s the least he could do, and he planned to make everything up to you now and in the near future.

He made a mental note to thank Suo later for helping him choose the right flowers. If it weren’t for them, he wouldn’t be swooning over being with you again.

#wind breaker x reader #wind breaker #windbreaker #windbreaker x reader #umemiya hajime x reader #umemiya x reader #umemiya #hajime umemiya #kaji ren #kaji x reader #kaji ren x reader #kiryu mitsuki #kiryu x reader #kiryu #kiryu mitsuki x reader #dor writes

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leclerity · 3 days

Text

stupid gets you killed

Charles Leclerc x Girlfriend!Reader count: 1.1k words summary: Charles and you have an emotional conversation after his reckless driving at a race. a/n: a short but angsty one, with a happy ending!

It could’ve been the end.

The way it felt, it almost was.

You watch as the red of the Ferrari and the green of the Aston Martin come close, inches apart, with Stroll nearly putting it in the back of your boyfriend’s car. Everyone around you gasps and for a split second, you see them touch and Charles’s car fly off into the grandstands – but that doesn’t happen. They don’t touch. Charles drives away unscathed, though you know that won’t be the end of it.

“That was too close,” says Arthur, shaking his head at the screen.

“He won’t like this too much,” you say and grab a pair of headphones lying around, listening in.

Everything is okay with the car, Bryan Bozzi says.

That was not okay! Charles screams. Who does he think he is?! Driving like an idiot… He should know better!

Keep your head calm, you’ve got forty laps to go.

You take off the headphones and tell Arthur what you just overheard. He shakes his head again, but you both know there’s nothing the two of you can do about it. Charles has been under pressure, ready to burst at any given moment, running second in the championship with maybe—maybe—a chance at something more. Anything that threatens it… Well, it throws him off.

You’re just waiting for the moment it happens.

The race keeps running, you listen in to the radio every so often, and his complaints and agitation are getting more obvious. He’s driving riskier, not caring enough about tyre management, and there’s a few moments when his car gets a little too close to another car.

He finishes in fourth. It’s not where he wanted to be but it’s better than out of the race, you tell yourself. There was a few moments where you held your breath, waiting to see if the anger is going to slip into careless mistakes, and it made you angry. Your boyfriend is better than this.

When he finishes the race, you run straight into his arms. “You did so well! I’m proud of you.”

“I could’ve done better,” he says.

“I know,” you say, and kiss him again. “Next time.”

Charles kisses you, too, before going to speak to others in the garage, keeping one eye on you at all times. You know he’s being hard on himself, but you see his clenched jaw, sunken shoulders, and you know this is going to be a tougher one than usual.

He’s in your orbit the most of the evening, glancing at you even when he’s in the media pen. You can hear some of the questions he’s being asked and a lot of them are about the incident and about his dangerous driving he nearly got a penalty for, and you can already hear the regret in his voice. He looks at you every time it comes up, as if he already knows how much it upset you.

At your side, Arthur gives you a nudge. “Are you going to talk some sense into him when you’re back at the hotel?”

“Maybe. I haven’t decided yet.”

“That was scary.”

You nod. “Too scary. I get the pressure and all, but…”

“Yeah,” Arthur says, “I don’t want to feel like I might lose my brother because he’s being angry and stupid.”

When you get home, you get dinner – he does the perfunctory celebrations and goes back to the hotel, where you’re waiting with him with your guys’ favourite takeaway. He had some time to hang out with the other drivers and now it’s time to hang out with you… But not before you give him a piece of mind.

He knows something’s wrong the moment he enters the hotel room.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” you say.

He frowns. “Okay. You sure?”

You give him a long look.

Charles sits down next to you, looking exhausted but ready to devour the food – but he doesn’t. Instead, he sits with his elbows on his knees, hands held together. “It’s the race.”

“Mhm.”

“That’s why you’re giving me attitude.”

“Mhm.”

“Is it because of the Stroll incident?”

You shake your head. He should know better and he does, it will just take him a moment.

He sighs and leans into the couch, a defeated look on his face. “I should’ve handled it better, right?”

“Yeah.” You put a hand on his thigh. “Driving like that, Charles… You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“I would’ve been fine.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Babe—”

“Don’t babe me,” you say, shaking your head. “You got angry and…. Anger makes you stupid. Stupid gets you killed.”

Charles opens his mouth and closes it, knowing fair well that there’s nothing he could say in his defence that would make you change your mind. He sees it all on your face, you know it – the terror you’d gone through waiting to see if his anger will make him slip up, make a mistake; the threat of losing him.

He takes your hand in his and kisses the back of it, before placing it on his chest, right where his heart is. “Y/N,” he says, gently. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let my anger get the best of me.”

“I just… I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know.”

“It frightens me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I just—The thought of you—”

“I know. C’mere.”

Charles gives your hand a gentle tug and then your head is on his chest and his arms are wrapped around you, keeping you warm and safe. “I’m sorry for scaring you. My job is scary, but I shouldn’t make it any more difficult than it already is.”

He kisses the top of your head and you feel a few tears escaping down your cheeks, and he holds you even tighter.

“I’ll be less angry next time, I promise,” he whispers. “Less stupid. For you. Okay?”

You nod instead of answering, and he pulls your chin up with a gentle finger, and then he’s wiping your tears and kissing you gently, promising over and over again to never make you feel like that again – and he doesn’t.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 rpf #formula 1 fanfic #leclerc angst #m.fic #my first fic for the fandom!! hope you enjoy #and any and all feedback is welcome <3 #also please send me some fic recs for charles too!#i've got a few more coming from the same prompt list but ill see when i finish them

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lovebittenbyevans · 2 days

Text

Only His Sweetheart | Part 2

Summary: After the summer break is over, you start to notice some new faces on campus this year when you didn’t expect to see frat boy Oscar Piastri being around you more lately.

Pairing: frat boy! Oscar Piastri x nerd! Female Reader

Warnings: one curse word

Author note: My brain been scattering all over the place. I thought about doing a part 2 to this so many times and I know some people ask for it. After re-reading it myself I realized I fell in love with the story 🥹❤️ Here is part 2 & enjoy reading!

Previous: One Shot (Part 1)

– Comments, Reblogs and Likes are appreciated

Part 2

Oscar: Sweetheart, I’m free this morning! The cafe on campus work for me

Here goes that fucking nickname again

Your thumb taps the message on your phone as you reread his message one more time before you respond to him.

You: Sure….

You was not looking forward to this at all. You wanted to back out but it is already too late for that. You zipped your backpack shut and sling it over your shoulder, putting your phone inside the pocket of your jeans.

You saw there wasn’t many people inside the cafe when you opened the door. The only thing you can hear is the bell ringing above the door every time someone walks in. You sat at an empty table while the waiter placed the menu on the table.

While removing your stuff from your backpack, you hear a chair being dragged and a voice. “I am here to learn.” You roll your eyes and scoff. “Oscar, hi.”

He took a seat in his chair and took out his textbooks, notebook and pen. “Thanks again for doing this and meeting me here.” He slung his backpack over his chair.

You nodded. “Do you know anything about Biology?”

He grabbed his pen in one hand and opened his notebook. “It’s the study of life and is about living organisms.”

“Correct.” You open your notebook as you glance at the menu in front of you.

The waiter came over to the table and wrote down on her notepad what you two wanted to drink with breakfast food before walking away. You never actually sat in the daily grind cafe. You only came here for coffee and breakfast food. You didn’t realize they had more food options.

Oscar flipped open his textbook as he apologized to you. “I’m so sorry about Calla.”

You looked at him for a second. “Don’t apologize for her. I’ve seen girls act like that plenty of times.” You open your textbook on the table. “Turn to page 25. We will start from there.”

He was fixated on you. “Yeah but, she–” You cut him off quickly. “Oscar, jealous girls don’t bother me all that much since guys like you and regular guys don't talk to me.”

You continue. “Don’t worry about it. This isn’t high school anymore. I understand she doesn’t want any girl to take her man.”

He shakes his head and scoffs. “She isn’t my girlfriend.”

You let out a laugh. “That’s what they all say.” The waiter came back to the table with the food and drinks. You take a sip of your coffee feeling the hot latte against your tongue.

Oscar took notes as he intently listened to you and followed along in the textbooks with what you was reading. You had him do some short quizzes and answer the question as well.

“I put b for my answer.” He started to read the answers to you. “The prokaryotic cell lacks a true nucleus. DNA is found in a singular circular chromosome in the cytoplasm.”

You nodded. “That’s correct, you got most of these answers right.” You finished the last bite of your brownie.

He smiled, feeling glad for once. You looked at the time on your phone screen and noticed class was going to start soon. “I think that will be it for today. Let’s come back another time and do this.” You began to pack your stuff in your backpack.

“Wait, you don’t have another free class period?” He asked.

He wanted you to stay with him a little bit longer. It felt kind of strange that he likes being with you so far even though you two don’t know each other that well.

You zipped up your backpack and slung it over your shoulder. “Yeah, I have Animal Behavior then music class.” You got up from your seat while pushing the chair underneath.

Oscar was just starting to like the way you teach. He thought being able to study with you would be two hours maybe but that was just his brain talking.

“I’ll walk you to class.” He got up from his seat holding his backpack.

You blink at him for a second before you walk out the door hearing the bell above. You just wanted to be left alone. You didn’t need someone else with you.

“Wait!” You heard him behind you.

Go away

He walked alongside you. “Oscar, I can walk by myself. Don’t you have baseball practice at this minute?” You wanted him to leave you alone.

He looks down at his watch checking the time. “I can be a little late.”

You sigh. “Just go Oscar. Text me when you want to meet up again.”

“Y/N, I thought we could get to know each other better.” He ignored what you said and continued to walk with you.

You stopped walking for a minute and let out a chuckle. “What? We don’t need to do the whole get to know each other card and besides you are only acting like that because you don’t wanna leave me yet.”

You was not stupid. You know how these college fraternity boys are. You watch too many movies about college to not realize that.

“Sweetheart I–” He didn’t know what to say because he got caught.

Opening the door to Everwood University, you walked inside with Oscar right behind you. You wish he would leave you the fuck alone. When you arrived at class, he grabbed your wrist and turned you to face him. “Look, maybe you're right but maybe it’s time for me to branch out to a different friend group.”

You looked down at his hand and then back up at him. “Friends?” You pulled away from him and burst out laughing. “We are not friends, Oscar.”

He sighs seriously. “Sweetheart, I’m trying to be serious.”

“And how is that working out for you? Don’t go around using the word friends loosely. It’s not a good look for you but I’m sure the fraternity boys enjoyed your company more.” You walked into the class leaving him standing there.

In your mind you can tell Oscar was full of shit. It was written all over him. You dealt with enough boy popularity when you were in high school.

You sat down next to Sage while putting your notebook and pen on the desk. “What did Oscar Piastri want from you?” She asked.

You almost forgot how nosy she can be

“Nothing.” The only thing you say to her.

More students start to fill in the class while you write on the top of your notebook. “I just never seen you speak to anyone besides me.” Sage spoke again. “He’s not bothering you right?”

Your phone buzzed in your pocket before you could respond to her. You take your phone out of your pocket and see Oscar text on the screen.

Oscar: Sweetheart, I was just trying to squeeze in a little bit of your time longer before we aren’t acquaintances anymore

Three dotted lines show up as you roll your eyes. You didn’t have time to text all day. You had classes to attend.

Oscar: just letting you know that you are the only girl whoever been nice to me and see me

You roll your eyes again and put your phone back in your pocket. Boys like Oscar just love to sweet talk any girl they get in contact with and you was not going to fall for it.

“What are some examples of animal play behavior, and what functions does play serve in animal development?” Placing his laptop on the desk, Professor Kaius posed a question to the entire class.

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x fem!reader #oscar piastri x y/n #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 x y/n

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rebelfell · 3 days

Text

I’m supes regular about him today, okay you guys? not feeling unhinged at all. nope, no way, nuh-uh, not me.

Anyway, here’s 659 words of something…

“What the hell did you do?”

The question popped out before you could stop it, sounding more like an accusation. You stood in the door of the Hideout, the only one who wasn’t currently surrounding the members of Corroded Coffin offering congratulations on completing their first ever tour.

The rest of your friends had already filed inside, wrapping all the boys up in hugs after not seeing them for months, but you couldn’t move your feet, seemingly rooted to the sticky bar floor.

Eddie’s head turned at the sound of your voice and his mouth twitched like he couldn’t decide if he should smile or frown. He gave you a sheepish look, his head tilted and his chin tucked down as he squinted at you with one eye pinched closed and rubbed his hand over his head.

His shaved head.

“I, uh…” he chuckled weakly, almost guilty sounding, “I buzzed it about halfway through the tour. I was sweating buckets on stage every night. Dripping everywhere. It was kind of a hazard.”

“It was disgusting,” Gareth confirmed, giving a deep nod that sent his own tawny curls flopping before he absconded to the corner booth for a proper reunion with his girl.

Eddie took a careful step towards you, holding open his arms for you to fill the space in between.

Your body screamed at you to embrace him, to wrap him up in your arms and let him hold you as tight as he could with his; to bury your face in the crook of his exposed neck (fuck, his neck) and fill your nose with his scent you’d missed so much.

You couldn’t do it, though. Slipping past to get to the bar instead, your arms folded in front of your chest with your eyes glaring into the dingy mirror behind the rows of liquor bottles and beer taps.

You knew you had no real right to be pissed— you weren’t even sure what specifically you were pissed about. But seeing him again for the first time in months looking so different…

All you could think was what if his hair wasn’t the only thing that changed?

What if he met someone on tour, or decided he could do better than the one at home?

What if he’d forgotten all that stuff he said before he left? When you were crying, clinging onto him, your fingers twisting in his curls as your heads bent close together but your lips never met.

“I don’t want our first kiss to be a goodbye,” he had told you. And you really bought it.

He leaned on the bar next to you, the side of his arm pressed up against yours. It was a little more muscled now, you noticed, but still radiating with his body heat. You kept your eyes down, staring at the scuff marks and graffiti that marred the wood, trying not to think about your initials carved into it next to his way down at the other end.

“So you hate it, then?” he asked, leaning in, butting your shoulder with his head and giving you that round and pleading, doe-eyed stare of his he was so annoyingly good at.

It still made you melt, so that hadn’t changed.

You paused, daring to take another glance at him, your face only turning a fraction of the way in his direction. Your eyes lingered on his profile, always nice, but more noticeable and pronounced now that it wasn’t surrounded by his wild mane and fluffy bangs. The sharpness of his jaw dusted with scruff you were trying really hard (and failing) not to imagine scraping against your inner thighs.

The thick, muscled column of his neck that had never looking more appetizing.

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips and you shifted subtly as your thighs clenched, squishing with the arousal that had been collecting there from the moment you walked in.

“I didn’t say that.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson stranger things

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nvuy · 3 days

Note

hey gorjous im just curious will you ever write for aventurine?by the way loveeee your works

rose-tinted glasses & the scent of you — aventurine

summary. you’re offered a chance to win close to a million credits. only issue is, you suck at poker. luckily, some blond man with the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen comes to your aid.

notes. who is aventurine and no i will never write for him. it is 3:30am and i am now going to sleep goodnight!!!!

warnings. the dude your playing poker with is an asshole and says some strange things, i guess a bit of power imbalance, gn reader but referred to as ‘beautiful’ or ‘gorgeous,’ light cussing, i don’t know how to play poker and i fight the gods trying to write aventurine.

“So… tell me… what made you think you could win?”

The older man stares you down with those awful brown eyes. They flicker even darker than black itself in the low lights of the VIP room he’s dragged you into.

You glance up from your deck of cards. Your fingers are trembling. You swallow and tell the man, “I never even agreed to play this game with you.”

The man leans back in his chair. He merely rolls his eyes. The woman over his shoulder—and she’s a gorgeous woman. She looks much too young for him—giggles at his antics. She looks more like a prize than anything.

Your eyes snap to the man’s again. “And I don’t want to be your arm candy.”

“Oh, but that’s what you were made for.” The man yawns as if he could be doing anything else with his time. And he could have; he was rich. Filthy rich. He paid for women, cars, and every high end restaurant in this district that was under his name one way or another. All his. He could have been off on his yacht somewhere in the ocean for all you cared, sipping a nice martini.

But, no.

He’s here. And he wants you.

Some lowly office worker. You knew the gut feeling when you stepped into this casino, and you had ignored it. Now, you were kicking yourself repeatedly for it.

“Play.”

You almost consider throwing your cards down onto the table and storming out, but the room is closed off by two big burly men standing on either side of it.

And if you give up, he wins.

But he’s already winning, anyway.

“Play the game,” he repeats, this time firmer.

“I’m folding,” you said with just as much vitriol. You drop your cards onto the green velvet and swallow your pride.

The man hums with triumph, drops his deck—of course, a royal flush glimmers back at you on his pristine customised playing cards—and collects the chips in the middle of the table.

“That’s another round for me,” the man whispers across the table. “Another drink?”

You shake your head. The thought of him making you down even more liquor with him made you feel sick. “Can I leave?”

“‘Leave?’ It’s only round four.” The dealer takes the cards silently. Another woman. Her name badge reads ‘Jewel,’ though you’re sure that’s not her real name. “You said it was best of five.”

You look down at your hands.

They’re still trembling.

“This isn’t fair.” You try not to tear up, but your voice shakes, and it’s difficult to mask. Your hands continue to quake and your legs can’t remain still. You were sure he could feel the floor vibrating with how you bounced in your seat. “I can’t even play with these cards–”

“I hope you’re not suggesting I’m taking advantage of you, beautiful.”

Your face screws up at that.

He’s not cheating. How can he possibly cheat? You had elected the dealer yourself, per his request, and had been watching him like a hawk for the better half of an hour.

Your hands were awful every time. Not even a simple pair. Just random useless low valued cards thrown together, while the man opposite you seemed to have an endless amount of tricks up his sleeve.

Poker was luck based. Mostly. There was skill and strategy, but it was like detective work. You’re no professional, but the dealer has no idea what they draw for each player, and the chances of you being drawn a horrible hand twice in a row now was creeping up on you.

It’s all guesswork and mind games. Being a sleaze is this dude’s lifestyle. You work in an office answering phone calls all day.

You glance at the dealer again. She’s still shuffling the cards by hand, and she’s not looking at them either. There’s no possible way she could know what she is handing out.

You sigh shakily. “No.”

The man leans back in his chair.

Then, he glances up when the door opens behind you. The woman over his arm gets up and leaves.

At first you presume the man has called in another woman by the way his eyes light up.

His grin is wicked. “Mister Aventurine, you son of a bitch.”

He gestures to you and says, “you’re in luck. Maybe this’ll be your turn around. You’re going to need it.” The man leans back in his chair, suddenly smug.

You feel a hand brush along the back of your shoulder.

There’s a strong scent of clove oil and chestnut as the newcomer, Mister Aventurine, glides past your chair and over to the man’s shoulder.

You notice flicks of water on his coat.

“Evening, Keres.” His voice is just as smooth. “It’s raining hard out there.”

“Is it? I ain’t been out since this mornin’.”

When you take a proper look at him, he’s wearing clothing more expensive than all of your bills combined. That was real fur around his collar; you could tell from the organic coarseness of it, and the way the pattern was inconsistent and natural. The watch around his wrist was most definitely real gold with an emerald green face.

And hair is perfect, laid down flat, but with pieces fluffed out intentionally. Everything is done with purpose. He carries an air of confidence to him, and it only falters for a moment when he adjusts the black gloves on his hands.

He’s wearing rose-coloured glasses.

“Harassing the locals again?” Mister Aventurine asks playfully.

He’s talking about you.

You bristle in your seat.

“Hardly.” The man, whom you now know as Keres, leans over the table with an arm on the velvet. “This one’s gotten a little too excited at the prize money.”

“And how much is that?” Mister Aventurine finishes fixing his gloves before he stands up straight.

“A good seven-hundred and fifty thousand. Enough to pay the bills for the year and get yourself something nice, right sweetheart?” He raises a silver credit card he pulls from his pocket and waves it side to side. “All right here on this shiny, pretty card.”

You feel like a fish staring down a hook with worm bait stuck to the end.

He’s speaking to you again, but the question remains unanswered. Keres raises an eyebrow—and you would have considered him handsome if didn’t make you feel nauseous every time he spoke to you—and waits.

You say nothing.

Mister Aventurine is looking at you now.

You feel as though you’re being hypnotised. Though the colour of his eyes are left muffled by the rosy tint he wears over them, they’re so bright. There’s two colours you can barely decipher: some sort of light green and a deep purple.

And they’re beautiful.

“I take it you’re winning?”

Keres picks up his deck of cards for the dealer as she lays them out on the table.

You swallow as she deals out your hand next. You don’t even want to flip the cards. You already know it’s over.

By some miracle, you have to win this round.

Keres had gone easy on you the first round, calling your bluff and being wrong, since you told him you weren’t sure how to play, and he felt only the slightest bit bad he roped you into the game in the first place.

Now, he didn’t care.

“‘Course I’m winnin’.”

Your teeth grit behind your lips.

Dickhead.

You swallow and peek at your cards.

Huh. They’re actually not so bad this time around. Your hands had been awful for the last hour.

Mister Aventurine is still looking at you.

You try not to return his gaze. You keep your eyes glued to the table.

Mister Aventurine hums curiously.

You can still smell his perfume, and the delicious bottom note of vanilla musk, even as he stands on the other side of the playing table. If you weren’t in the position you were in, you would have asked him what he was wearing.

He clears his throat.

You glance up at him.

Then, he nods subtly at you, seemingly pleased. “Great hand, Keres, don’t you think?”

“The secret to winning is to remain humble, Mister Aventurine,” Keres reminds him.

You almost scoff.

Mister Aventurine’s lips tick up into a grin. “Is that so?”

Then, he tilts his head slightly towards you. It’s not enough to look awkward or out of place, but it’s just enough for you to notice the very small, and nervous tick of one of his gloved fingers by his sides.

He’s still staring at you.

And there, slightly warped from his curved lenses, is a rosy and mirrored reflection of the man’s cards.

For a moment, you look away, glancing at the security guards situated behind you standing in front of the door. Though you still could never make a run for it because both of them were triple your size, one of them was tapping away on his phone, and the other was leaning against the wall and staring off into space.

You turn back around.

Mister Aventurine merely raises a brow.

Keres notices that. “Taking an interest in my opponent, Aventurine?”

Aventurine does not move to address the man, too afraid he won’t garner the correct angle on his glasses again, but his eyes do flit in his direction. “Maybe.”

“Don’t use that charm just yet, sir. I’ve got a game to win.”

“Of course.” It’s a mere send off of his tone, as if he’s just carelessly thrown the words in to keep the man satisfied.

He’s doing this on purpose.

You glance down at your cards again.

Keres’ hand is good. It’s not amazing, but it’s good. It’s almost an even match, though the game is tilted slightly in his favour.

But, he doesn’t know your cards.

Neither does Aventurine. You think. Unless those freaky eyes grant him a sixth sense, and he can see through the card backs like an x-ray. That wouldn’t surprise you in the slightest.

You exhale as steadily as you can, trying to slow your racing heart.

Then, you whisper, “if this is the final round, I’m going all in.”

Aventurine’s face does not shift. His lenses flicker in the lights, and for a moment you panic, convinced that the reflection is lost.

It returns a moment later.

Keres grins. “As you wish.” He slides all of his own chips into the centre of the table.

ೃ༄

You’ve confused Keres, that’s for sure. The round has been lasting a lot longer than he liked, and as he grew more and more impatient, he grew sloppier.

You’re not any good at this game. You’re not a genius strategist, that was for sure, but judging by the slight flinch in Aventurine’s face when Keres slammed his hands on the table, you could tell he was being run around the very table he sat at.

He’d first accused you of cheating halfway through the round, so much so that the security guards were ordered to pat you down for extra cards, and the dealer was escorted out of the room.

Then, Aventurine had rested a gloved hand to the man’s shoulder and reminded him, “calmness is the cradle of power, my friend.”

That barely calmed him down, but it was enough to seat the man again.

Now, Aventurine was not showing you his hand anymore, but you didn’t need it.

“I’m raising,” Keres whispers.

Aventurine’s eyes narrow suspiciously at his deck.

You swallow.

“Then I’m calling your bluff,” you mumble. You won’t fold. Not here. Not when you know you’ve won.

Your heart is racing.

There’s a small voice in the back of your head telling you that you may have overstepped. You may have grown too big in your own head.

Aventurine is staring at you, completely expressionless. He’s casually leaning against the back of Keres’ chair.

Come on. Come on, come on–

You grip your cards for dear life.

Keres drops his cards. “Fuck you.”

You sigh in relief and drop your own cards.

You bury your face in your hands and lean against the table on your elbows. You could cry. Oh, you could get on the floor and weep to the Aeons. You could give Aventurine a giant kiss on the lips.

Oh, thank the Aeons for blond men.

You didn’t have to worry about waking up in this man’s bed tomorrow morning.

Keres gets up, and as he does, Aventurine adjusts his posture and clears his throat. He says nothing when Keres passes him.

There’s a nasty whisper of a, “some lucky charm you are,” before the credit card is thrown into his chest.

Keres hits you in the shoulder on his way out. The security guards allow him through first before they both file out. They close the door to the VIP room behind them.

You contemplate leaving as well. You just desperately want to go home. It’s getting late, you think. You had caught a glance of Aventurine’s watch before, and the large hand was ticking towards nine o’clock.

“Congratulations.” It’s warm. It’s genuine. When you turn, Aventurine is holding out the credit card in front of him. “Don’t forget the ‘shiny, pretty card.’”

Your chest warms, and you feel this is the first time you’ve smiled properly in a long time.

You move closer to the man. “You…” You hesitate before the credit card, but Aventurine makes no move to pocket it for himself and leave. “I- I don’t know how I can thank you enough for this.”

You take the card and stare at it for a moment.

Then, you place it safely in your coat pocket.

Aventurine tilts his head, confusion scrawled onto his face as saunters past you easily to hold open the door for you. “Thank me for what?”

As he waits, he pulls off those rosy glasses and folds them neatly. He holds onto them.

Oh.

His eyes are beautiful. A light blue ring surrounds his slightly slitted pupils. A gorgeous rich royal purple wraps at the edges of his iris, bordered by a thick black ring.

You stop for a moment before you step towards the door, looking equally as confused. “The reflection? With your glasses?”

Aventurine looks down at the said pair in his hands. He then smiles, but it seems more to be polite and to entertain you. “Sure.” He shuts the door behind you when he follows you out.

You knit your brows together.

Then, it wasn’t intentional.

Or, he’s just really good at playing dumb.

You can’t exactly tell.

His grin spells mischief, however. “Would you like a drink?”

Your eyes flit towards the bar. It’s always fully stocked, and the bartenders are always lovely, but the idea of liquor in your already churning stomach makes you feel sick. “Oh, no. But thank you. I’m probably just going to go home.”

“Of course. It’s late.” Aventurine glances down at his watch. “I’d be more than happy to walk you to your car, if you’d like.”

You blink at him, only slightly dazed.

You felt as if you had just swallowed three shots of straight vodka.

Your legs feel unsteady for a moment, and you’re afraid you’ll teeter and fall flat on your face. You can smell his perfume again. It’s stronger now since he’s standing so close to you.

It’s almost humiliating how easily he sends blood rushing up your neck.

“I don’t- uh… I don’t have a car,” you murmur.

Aventurine blinks and takes out his phone. “Then I’ll call you a cab.”

“Thanks.” You clear your throat when his lips stretch into a smile again. Embarrassingly, you add, “you smell so nice.”

He laughs then, and you like the sound. He narrows his eyes playfully. “Thank you.”

As if it couldn’t get any worse, blondie then offers you his arm. You could’ve melted on the spot into a puddle of goo all over the plush red carpets of the casino.

The sound of slot machines, loud chattering, and drinks clacking together in toasts, drowns out the sound of your stuttered breathing and the roar of blood in your ears.

Aventurine greets one of the staff members on his way out. His arm linked with yours is gentle, more of a persistent comforting anchor than a leash to drag you around in.

He smells really, really nice.

Your face grows hot.

This is so bad.

It’s raining outside. The entrance to the casino is large enough to provide enough relief to city goers seeking shelter from the rain. The press of the heating from inside dissipate as soon as you step through the doors.

It’s freezing. The wind whips and sounds as though one thousand ghosts float through the air, lost to time.

You’re relieved the exterior roof keeps you mostly dry.

You shiver.

“They’ll be a cab for you in five minutes,” Aventurine says softly. He lets go of your arm. You ignore the disappointment you feel in your chest.

“Thanks.” You cross your arms over your chest to shield yourself from the cold as best you could. “You don’t have to wait out here with me.”

Aventurine looks at you strangely. “Well, it’s not like I’m doing much else.” He gives you a once over before you hear his clothes shifting.

This is so awkward.

You feel the foreign tickle of expensive and real fur on your neck.

You glance at him suspiciously before your shoulders are swamped in his jacket. It’s warm, warmer than anything you’ve ever worn from the velvety insides and his own body heat, and heavy with luxury.

Your heart stops when Aventurine hums, pleased.

Your hands shoot to the white fur on the collar to shuck it off and hand it back to him. “I’m fine, really–”

“Oh, please.” He waves you off gently. “You’re clearly freezing.”

“I’m really okay–”

“And would you look at that.” Aventurine straightens up and pushes his rosy glasses back onto his nose bridge. “Your cab’s early.”

You shrug off his jacket, careful with the expensive material. “Thank you so much, but–” He pushes it back onto your shoulders, following you to the car door. “Mister Aventurine–”

“I insist.” He opens the door for you. “You’ll freeze.”

You can’t imagine him standing around in a suit vest and a shirt is warm, either.

You say nothing about it. You practically fall into the back of the cab, shocked.

“Take it home.”

“‘Take it–‘” You shake your head. You feel like you’re dreaming. “I can’t take this home. This thing is worth more than the money I just won.”

But it’s warm, and it’s weighted in the most comforting way.

It calms your nerves.

“It’s nothing fancy. It was only around one-hundred thousand credits.”

“Are you serious–”

“Take it.” And he is serious. You can see your reflection in his glasses. “Please.“

His eyes are really, really beautiful.

You find yourself lost in them for a moment.

His back is slightly soaked from the rain. He barely notices it. His hand rests on your knee when you swing your feet into the cab.

You nod once, more to reassure yourself than anything. “Okay.” You look up at him. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it.” He offers you a gentle wave before he shuts the door and the car drives off.

He is cold. Frightfully so as you watch him shiver through the rear view mirror before he steps back into the casino.

As the cab moves, you relay your address to the driver and sit back in the seat. You feel like you can finally breathe, but when you do breathe, you only smell chestnut and vanilla, and it blurs and muddies your senses nicely.

You bury your icy fingers into the pockets of Aventurine’s coat, sinking into the neckline until the fur tickles your ears.

Your fingers come into contact with something smooth and cool, like glass.

You fish it out.

It’s a small perfume bottle. You pull the clear lid off of the tip of it and curiously smell the top. It smells exactly like him, the same perfume that’s drowned you for the last hour.

You don’t think you can get enough of it.

You feel only slightly guilty for digging around in this man’s pockets—and, unsurprisingly, you don’t find a wallet—before you fish out a pair of fancy looking golden dice with light green dots on the faces.

The dice, the perfume, and a small card. Not the credit card you won. That one is tucked away safely in your bag.

It’s a business card. His business card. His name, what you recognise as the IPC’s logo, and his phone number are written in gold lettering on the laminated white card.

You hum curiously.

Then, you fish out your phone and slowly type his number onto the screen.

You: thank u 4 winning 2night for me. & the coat. the coat is nice. x

Sent 9:56pm

Aventurine: You found my gifts! :0 Did you like them?

You: maybe. i did like ur vest btw.

Aventurine: You can have it next time ;)

You find yourself smiling. Your fingers tremble with excitement over the keyboard on your screen.

You: i’ll give u a kiss 4 it :*

Aventurine: Done, deal. Pleasure doing business with you, gorgeous.

You have a feeling your wardrobe will be full of his clothes in the not so distant future.

#✦ ( love mail. )#✦ ( anon. )#✦ ( the macrocosmos. )#aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine hsr

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synthetickitsune · 3 days

Note

Hi!! I love your work sm and I was wondering if u could write a minghao drabble with the prompt “you don’t count- I love u” thank u 🤍🤍

The8 (SVT) | "You don't count - I love you" fluff | 0.8k | gn!reader A/N: thank you for requesting! also inspired by @hanniedream's froggy ring post and bibi being a menace feeding into all of my delusions

“Absolutely not.”

You pout at him, whine his name, whisper into his ear how cute it would be to have a matching jewelry - a silly piece, the exact opposite of the classy necklaces and rings and bracelets you already had plenty of. But nothing gets Minghao to change his mind, and so the little froggy faces can only watch as you leave the store without them.

You sulk about it only a little. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. Your relationship matters, and it’s loving and wonderful, and Minghao is the best partner you could wish for. What would be the point in wearing a matching ring if you knew he hated it? He always makes sure you don’t lack anything you want or need, silly or serious. You let it go and truth be told, the entire thing slips your mind.

Until today.

Until today’s afternoon, to be exact, today’s very ordinary afternoon when your boyfriend suddenly told you to close your eyes before putting a little box in your palms.

“Open it,” he smiles at you as he sits down next to you.

You feel a lump in your throat. There are two rings staring at you. Matching rings. One with a little black frog, its limbs spread as if it was swimming, and the other with little lily pads and a white blossom. Minghao must’ve had them made, you don’t think he could find rings like this in a shop somewhere.

“Do you like them?” he asks with a small smile. His hand slowly rubs circles on the small of your back. You look at him in disbelief.

“Why Hao?” you take a shaky breath. He frowns, sitting closer to you and putting his other hand over your knee.

“What do you mean why?” his brows are knitted together, “Do you not like them?”

“No, I do - I love them,” you sigh, “But you hate things like this.”

You look at them again. The sizes make it pretty clear which ring is his and which is yours. He’ll look even more like he came out of a fairytale with the tiny blossom adoring his finger. You truly love them. You love the cute little frog. And you appreciate the gesture, but…

“I wouldn’t get them if I hated the idea - or if I didn’t like these rings themselves,” he assures you patiently.

“But you hated the silly frog rings I showed you,” you argue back, making Minghao smile and pinch your cheek.

“And I didn’t get those, did I?” he watches you laugh and loosens up a little himself.

“These are still silly,” you shake your head, “More… tasteful and elegant, but silly.”

“I’m good at compromising with you,” he grins. His thumb strokes your knee absentmindedly. It’s good to see you relax again, good to see the tender look in your eyes as you study the rings.

He looks at the box resting in your hands and carefully takes it from you. He slides the frog adorned ring on your finger before handing the now half-empty box back to you. Suddenly he feels shy when you take his hand in yours. You stroke your thumb over the ring once it sits on his finger, tapping the little flower.

“You know you can tell me if you don’t like them or if I hurt you before and you no longer want silly matching rings. I won’t be upset,” not at you anyway - but he doesn’t say that.

“I’m really happy, Hao,” you lean in for a kiss that he’s more than happy to give you, “I just don’t want you to do anything you don’t like.”

“I’m not,” he threatens the doubts in your mind with a slight pout on his lips.

“You always shut everyone down with things like this though,” you don’t give up, stubborn as he is.

“Well,” he smirks mischievously and leans closer again to steal another kiss, “You don’t count - I love you.”

“That’s so corny,” you scrunch up your nose, pushing at Minghao’s chest without any force. It’s only natural that with every push comes a pull, so you don’t struggle when he pulls you into his side.

“But I won’t wear mine all the time, just so we’re clear,” he says softly yet firmly enough to let you know it’s not up for debate. Still he looks at the ring with a smile.

“I guessed you don’t have that many fits to match it,” you tease, “But I’ll wear mine all the time just so you know.”

“I’ll wear it when I’m not running around schedules. And when I’m with you. We shouldn’t leave the frog without its home for too long, hm?” he laces your fingers together. You gasp when you see it - like this it indeed looks like the frog is swimming towards the lily pads. You can’t help but laugh and snuggle closer to him.

You guess it is a little like that - Mingao is your home.

And you’re Minghao’s whole life, giving his existence a purpose. Even if that might be too much for a little frog to convey.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #the8 x reader #minghao x reader #svthub #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #the8 scenarios #the8 fluff #seventeen x reader #svt fluff #svt scenarios #svt reactions #requested

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supernovafics · 2 days

Text

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 7.5k words

warnings: explicit language, pining, some angst, steve being very charming and flirty, weed smoking (only briefly mentioned at the end)

summary: you’re really not looking forward to your blind date with steve, but you force yourself to do it anyway

CHAPTER ONE | ❝𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕❞

Fall Semester 2015

The elevator in your dorm building was a hazard, and getting stuck in it was pretty much guaranteed.

That fact was established within the first month of school; it would break down a handful of times per week, almost always with people in it. And even though, after every incident, maintenance would say that it was “fixed for good,” it never really was.

Even with all of these issues, everyone seemed to have the same mindset. They’d rather risk getting stuck in an elevator for thirty minutes to an hour than simply walk up more than two flights of stairs. You lived on the sixth floor so you were also okay with running the risk. However, when you finally did get stuck, you regretted not just making the trek up the six flights of stairs.

There was only one other person in the elevator with you when it happened, and you weren’t sure if that was good or bad. You would’ve hated it if the elevator had been packed with people like it always was most mornings and afternoons, but it also felt like you were now being forced into having some sort of conversation with this person that you were now stuck with. So, you kind of wished that there was at least one other person in the elevator to alleviate some of the sudden awkwardness you felt.

This guy seemed entirely unbothered by the fact that it was just you and him in there. Maybe it was because you two were standing on opposite sides and he hadn’t even really noticed you yet. His eyes were focused on his phone and he looked slightly familiar, especially his mop of curly hair and the black denim jacket he was wearing, but you weren’t entirely sure how you recognized him.

You leaned back against the metal wall of the elevator and for a second your fingers mindlessly fumbled with the zipper of the hoodie you had on.

“Have you ever gotten stuck in here before?” You abruptly asked, breaking the prevailing quiet. You were good at that, filling silences that felt as if they needed to be filled. Most of the time, though, it was probably only in your head that any quietness that lingered felt awkward or uncomfortable. But, you didn’t know this guy, so everything felt awkward and uncomfortable.

“Yeah, last week,” He nodded as he looked at you, pocketing his phone in his jeans. “It only took them twenty minutes to fix it, though.”

“Okay, that’s good.”

Your words hung in the air as he nodded at them and then sat down on the floor. After a second of inward contemplation, you followed suit and sat down too.

You both stuck to your corners and things stayed quiet for a bit. The silence didn’t feel completely awkward anymore, but you still hated it just the same, and the minutes felt as if they were passing by way too slowly because of it. You wanted to think of something, anything, to say.

And then, as if the universe was trying to help you, you were randomly connecting the dots on how you vaguely recognized him.

“I think you live across the hall from me,” You said, suddenly being reminded of brief moments where you’d see him when you were heading into your dorm and he was leaving his, and vice versa. “I’m in 612.”

He looked at you and opened his mouth to say something, but then he closed it when it seemed as if he realized something. His eyes widened a bit in what you could only deem as surprise, and then he was abruptly breaking your gaze. “Oh.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. How could any of what you’d just said warrant that kind of reaction?

“What?”

Before he could even answer your question, your own realization hit you and you immediately shook your head. “Oh my God. Shit. No. Any… noises that you’ve probably heard coming from my room are not me. I swear that’s my roommate.”

You weren’t sure why you suddenly became so flustered or why you felt the immediate need to correct what you were ninety-nine percent certain he was thinking right then. But the thought of being stuck in an elevator with him for however much longer, and letting him think that he had heard you having sex before felt entirely too weird.

“Anytime you hear anything, I’m probably camping out in the library,” You continued. “The second floor has become my actual home at this point.”

“Shit, that sucks.”

“Sucks” was probably an understatement. You thought back to the first week of school when your roommate brought a guy back to the room and they started making out on her bed barely ten feet away from you; you couldn’t have left the room faster.

“Yeah, it does. She’s the worst,” You said, pushing away your previous memory. “I hope your roommate is less traumatizing than mine.”

“He just started doing some frat stuff, so he’s barely ever around.”

“You’re lucky,” You told him and sighed. There was a beat of silence and then you were filling it with the first thing you could think of. “So, um, what are your thoughts on cereal?”

He looked at you, mainly confused, but it also kind of looked like he wanted to laugh. “What?”

“I don’t know,” You shrugged and crossed your legs. “I kinda hate silence, so I wanted to ask something. I also wanted to move the conversation away from the roommate sex stuff.”

“And you decided against asking the normal questions like, what’s your name or what’s your major?” He asked, an amused smile on his face.

“Sure, yeah, in hindsight those questions probably would’ve made more sense,” You responded. It was the middle of the day so you weren’t even entirely sure why your mind went to thinking about a random breakfast food instead of the two questions that you’d been asked a countless number of times since the semester started, but it did. “I just went with the first thing that came to my head.”

“Okay, well, yeah, cereal’s good, I guess,” He told you and let out a chuckle. “Is this about to turn into an ad for Cheerios or something?”

You laughed at that. “No, it’s not. Although, that would’ve been a great segue. Maybe I should become a salesperson for Cheerios.”

“Cornering people in broken down elevators like this would probably be a great strategy.”

“Very true,” You said with a nod. “They can’t go anywhere, so they’d have to listen to my sales pitch.”

He laughed. “Okay, now that I’m hearing the idea out loud it sounds like it would be harassment.”

“Shit, you’re right,” You told him and couldn’t help but laugh too. “Okay, so now that my salesperson dream is dead, let’s move on to the normal questions that I probably should’ve asked first. What’s your name and major and all of that boring stuff?”

He told you his name was Eddie, and then the elevator started moving again as he said that he was unsure about his major, but he was really into music, so he might end up doing something with that. You both were standing up and exiting the elevator once it stopped on the sixth floor and you told him your name and that you were an English major.

You two began heading down the hall to your respective dorms and as you got closer, you heard the sounds that you truly wished you weren’t familiar with, but sadly you were.

You couldn’t help but let out a sigh. You had just come from the library and you weren’t in the mood to make the walk all the way back there.

“Hey, you can come in my room, if you wanna,” Eddie said, breaking through your annoyed thoughts. “Camp out here instead of the library.”

You gave him a small smile and nodded at his offer. “Thanks.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

Whatever ended up happening tonight would be your fault.

You knew that.

You were the one that had suggested this blind date idea— an idea that you weren’t at all serious about, but Eddie took it seriously.

“Don’t be nervous for tonight,” He had told you earlier that day at his apartment. It was too cold to sit out on the fire escape, so you two opted for sitting on the floor in his living room, opposite sides of the coffee table, and pretending to focus on your respective class assignments.

“I’m not nervous. I’m excited,” You responded and forced a smile that you knew looked fake. It was really only a half-truth; you honestly weren’t nervous about the date, but you definitely weren’t excited.

“Yes, because that face just screams excitement,” Eddie deadpanned, reading through your disingenuous smile, and you flipped him off for the playful jab. “Don’t worry, Steve’s a nice guy.”

You weren’t the least bit worried about your date with him, you knew that it would probably be shitty because you weren’t really in the headspace to date anyone— you were way too hung up on Eddie. What you were worried about was Eddie’s date with Julia and how not shitty that could possibly end up being.

You decided to avoid that thought for the time being.

“Why am I just now hearing about this Steve guy?”

“Me and him aren’t friends friends. We’ve just had a couple classes together last semester and we have one now too. Not Music stuff, Business stuff,” Eddie explained and you nodded along. “He’s cool, though. In some weird small way, I think you and him are similar.”

You gave him an amused look. “I scream Business major to you now?”

“No, he has a History minor, and that’s kinda like English, right?”

You were shaking your head as you laughed a bit. “No, not really.”

“Oh, shit, well, it was an idea,” He said and smiled. “Anyway, I promise you’ll still like him.”

You probably should’ve responded with something along the lines of, “You’ll like Julia too,” but it felt too hard to say the words, and you also didn’t want to put that thought out into the universe.

You considered texting Eddie now, as you exited your bedroom wearing an outfit that you hoped was fine enough for tonight. You decided to send a simple “Have fun tonight,” to him, and then you were inwardly sighing, still annoyed with yourself for having proposed this entire thing in the first place.

“You look nice,” Robin’s voice pulled your attention away from your phone. You looked at where she stood in the kitchen, taking a pause from rummaging through the fridge to look at you.

“Too nice?” You asked as you glanced down at the black dress you were wearing that you paired with a simple denim jacket and sneakers because you didn’t want to look too formal and dressed up; you didn’t want to give the wrong impression.

“No?” She responded, slightly confused, and looked over at Talia for help, but your other roommate was too busy chopping peppers to notice the look. “This feels like a trick question…”

“No, sorry, it's not. It’s just,” You let out a sigh and shook your head at yourself, trying to find the best way to word what you wanted to say. You couldn’t admit to her that you didn’t even want to go on this date because that would open up a can of worms that you vowed to keep to yourself. “It’s been a while since the last time I went on a date and I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard, y’know?”

You honestly didn’t want to try at all, but you didn’t want to be that much of an asshole to this guy you didn’t even know.

“You look great.” You turned to Vickie, who was sitting on the couch in the small living room area. “Perfect amounts of trying versus not trying.”

“I agree with Vick,” Talia looked up from chopping. “That’s a good outfit.”

“Okay,” You nodded. “Thanks, guys.”

“Is he here yet?” Robin asked you as she grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and then shut it behind her. “Can I give him the parental third degree when he knocks on the door? The whole “What are your intentions?” blah blah blah, and “Have our darling girl back not a minute later than ten o’clock” spiel.”

You were holding back a laugh as you quickly shook your head at her words. “One, he’s not coming up here, I’m gonna just meet him downstairs. And two, if anyone was gonna give him the “parental third degree,” it would be Talia because she’s the oldest.”

“Jeez, don’t make it sound like I’m a grandma,” She said as she finished chopping and then went to grab the pot that sat on the dish drying rack. “I’m only a year older than you, and two years older than them.” She gestured to Robin and Vickie.

“You’re gonna be the best grandma ever someday, Tal,” Robin said, smiling at her.

“I completely agree. Your grandkids will fucking love those cookies you made for us last week,” Vickie nodded. “Robin, hurry, and help me choose a show to watch or I will put on the one about naked people dating that you hate.”

“Coming, coming.”

Robin took her spot next to Vickie on the couch and you leaned on the arm of it. If it was any other Friday night, you would’ve joined them because that was just how things always went; the three of you cramped together on the couch and Talia in the small loveseat. And if Eddie decided to join you all, which he did most times, you’d sit on the floor with him.

“I can’t believe I’m missing reality TV night for a stupid date.”

“You’re actually going out and doing stuff, while we’re all wasting away on the couch on a Friday night,” Robin said. “I think you’re the cool one for once.”

Your phone buzzed in your hand and your mind immediately went to Eddie, but when you looked at the notification, it was Steve saying that he was at your building. You wrote back a quick, “Okay. Coming now,” and then placed your phone in your jacket pocket.

“Okay, he’s here. I’m gonna head down.”

Vickie smiled at you. “Good luck!”

“Have fun!” Talia said. “I’ll make sure to save you some pasta just in case the restaurant he takes you to is shit.”

“Remember to use protection!” Robin told you and Vickie promptly swatted her on the arm. “Ow! I’m just saying anything is possible and you should always be prepared.”

“That’s definitely not gonna happen, but if in the very very very big off chance that it does, I promise to use protection, Rob.”

“Good,” She smiled. “This apartment is already really loud and I think the place would collapse in on itself if we added a baby to the mix.”

It was an obvious exaggeration, but still, she was actually pretty right.

There was always something going on within the four walls of the shared apartment, and eventually, it was unspokenly decided that the never-ending noise just came with the territory of having four people under one roof. Whether it be Robin playing music loudly because it somehow helped her study better, or Talia moving about in the kitchen as she cooked some sort of elaborate meal for you all, or Vickie taking over the living room to work on her drawings and putting a shitty podcast on the TV because it was the perfect background noise to keep her focused.

Somehow, this living arrangement felt nothing like your unbearable roommate situation Freshman year. You’d honestly grown to love the noisiness that quickly became a staple within the apartment; weirdly enough, it actually helped you sleep better at night.

Your neighbors probably hated the four of you, but, luckily enough, they were also college kids who were way too loud and annoying at times, so in a way, the mutual hatred simply canceled itself out.

The last thing you heard before you shut the door behind you and became engulfed by the silence in the hallway was Talia telling Robin and Vickie to turn up the volume on the TV so that she could hear the show better as she cooked.

It was then that you decided that you really didn’t want to go on this date. You wanted to watch dumb reality television with your friends, and you wanted to have Talia’s cooking, and you wanted Eddie to cancel his date and come over too.

None of that could happen, though. You knew that. So, you reluctantly forced yourself to walk toward the elevator down the hall.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫��゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Anyone with two eyes could see that Steve Harrington was attractive, and since you were also a person with two eyes, you could recognize that too.

But, that blatantly obvious fact didn’t change your indifference toward this entire night, and you hoped that wasn’t showing.

The initial “Hi’s” and “Nice to meet you’s” when you got into his car had been awkward, to say the least, probably solely from your side of things, and you wondered if that was how the rest of the night was going to be.

You then abruptly suggested that you two skip dinner and just head straight to the movies. You made up a quick lie about how you had a big lunch earlier and weren’t hungry right then— you were just trying to do anything to make sure that the night ended faster. And although you were kind of hungry, you decided that movie theater popcorn and candy would be enough, and you could also hold out and wait for Talia’s pasta.

“So, Eddie told me that you’re an English major.”

“Yeah,” You nodded, glad that you weren’t the one who had to break the silence that had been prevailing in the car for the last minute. You could’ve simply left things at that quick answer, and let the soft sounds of the radio fill the air again for the time being. But, then you thought about the fact that you’d be stuck with him for at least the next two hours, so why not just try to make things bearable?

“And he told me that you’re minoring in History,” You said. “He also said that he thought that they were kinda similar, so I think that might be the only reason why he wanted to set us up.”

“I don’t think I could ever do English.”

“And I could never do History,” You responded with a shake of your head. “I’ve had way too many bad high school experiences with it.”

Steve took a quick glance at you and then focused back on the road. “Let me guess, asshole teachers that only cared if you memorized dates or not?”

“Exactly.”

“I completely understand your hatred for it, then.”

“Thank you,” You said. “So, what do you have against English? Too much Shakespeare bullshit in your high school classes?”

“I’ve just never been the biggest fan of reading.”

“Ouch, it truly wounds me to hear those words,” You responded and overdramatically placed a hand over your heart.

“If it makes you feel any better, I did really like reading this one series about an Italian mouse that ran a newspaper back in like fifth grade.”

You let out a laugh. “I think that actually makes me sadder.”

He looked your way again and gave you a teasing smile. “Aw, sorry, how can I make it up to you?”

The flirty undertones of his words reminded you exactly what this night was— a date. And surprisingly, for the first time all day, for the first time all week, the smallest part of you didn’t hate that. Everything was actually, surprisingly, going okay so far.

You suddenly regretted suggesting that you two skip dinner and just head straight to the movies; maybe dinner wouldn’t have been so bad.

“If you let me choose the movie we watch tonight, then maybe I’ll let this whole hating reading thing slide.”

“I don’t hate it.”

“My fatal flaw is probably trying to get people who say that they don’t like reading to like reading, so I’ll find you a book you like,” You told him. “One that doesn’t involve an Italian mouse.”

You didn’t realize how much your words implied that you’d be seeing him again after tonight until you said them, and you figured it would’ve been too weird, and maybe even a little shitty, to immediately take them back, so you didn’t.

Steve gave you a quick nod and smiled too. “Can’t wait for that.”

“I would still like to be the one to choose the movie tonight, though.”

“That depends on how your movie taste is.”

“It’s great,” You told him. “My roommates always look to me for recommendations, and they’ve never been disappointed.”

“How many do you have?”

“Three.”

“Wow.”

You laughed a bit at his surprise. “Okay, it’s not that insane.” You then considered your words for a second. “Actually, it is, but I like it. I’m guessing you don’t have any roommates?”

Steve shook his head. “No, I like having my own space.”

“I tried that last year,” You responded. “This one bedroom dorm opened up at the last second, so I took it. But, living alone was just so boring and quiet.”

“So you went from none to three?” He asked, sounding amused and you laughed.

“Yeah, I know that sounds crazy, but at first, it was only going to be one. I met Robin through Eddie like a year and a half ago— even though she was a Freshman, she was in this advanced music theory class with him. We became friends easily. She hated the two roommates she had and I hated living alone so we talked a lot about living together that next year. She also had a friend, Vickie, who hated the dorms too, so then it was the three of us looking for an off-campus place. But, we found this really nice four-bedroom apartment, and we thought fuck it let’s just do that, and then we found Talia on one of those “searching for roommates” Facebook pages.” You didn’t realize just how long you’d been talking until you were done. “Sorry, that was such a long-winded story.”

Steve was pulling into the packed parking lot of the movie theater as he shook his head. “No, it wasn’t.”

“I think you’re being way too nice to me right now,” You said, unbuckling your seatbelt once he was parked. “And I’ll return that niceness and let you pick the movie tonight. But, please, nothing that’s the Fast and the Furious or similar.”

“Shit, those are my favorite kinds of movies,” He said and you could hear the playful undertones in his voice.

You jokingly started to rebuckle your seatbelt. “Oh, well, in that case, I think we can just end the night here.”

“I’m kidding. My favorite genre is definitely cheesy romcoms.”

“You’re just trying to appeal to your audience now,” You said with a playful roll of your eyes.

He smiled at you. “Is it working?”

“Maybe a little,” You said before breaking his gaze and stepping out of the car.

Most of the showings for the new movies that were playing were either sold out or the few seats that were left weren’t next to each other, which made a lot of sense for a Friday night. In hindsight, it probably would’ve been best to have planned things a bit better earlier.

The only non-sold out movie that you both were okay with watching was the second Hunger Games one; which was only playing because of some special thing they were doing at the theater where they were showing all of the movies from the series over the weekend. Aside from you and Steve, there were only a handful of other people in the theater, and you even had the entire row you were in to yourselves.

You weirdly felt more comfortable than any of the other dates that you had forced yourself to go on over the past two years— which all had been nothing more and nothing less than half-assed attempts to get over Eddie; attempts that always ended with you feeling stupid and only wanting him more.

Maybe you were completely fine at this moment because you had absolutely nothing to lose with this date. If it went badly, it wouldn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. And you fully weren’t expecting anything to come from it, anyway.

You also didn’t want anything more to stem from it. You weren’t using this as a way to try and get over Eddie, you were just holding up your end of the deal that you and him made.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Steve was a charmer, and he probably did this kind of thing a lot; you could tell because he was so fucking smooth at it. The way he easily found your hand and linked it with his during the first twenty minutes of the movie, and then how he eventually pushed up the armrest that sat between you two to whisper a joke into your ear, but he never put it back down and instead wrapped an arm around you as you laughed.

It felt right to lean into his touch, and it was kind of cold in the theater, so that helped justify the decision too. And then there was also the fact that you knew that you wouldn’t be seeing him after tonight, so it felt okay to simply say “fuck it” for the time being.

“I can’t remember the last time I saw that movie,” You said afterward as the two of you walked back to his car. “I completely forgot about the ending.”

He was still holding your hand and you still didn’t mind it all too much. Your other hand was stuffed in the pocket of your jacket, mindlessly playing with the wrapper of your half eaten pack of Skittles.

“Yeah, it’s kind of an insane cliffhanger for the movie to end on. It reminded me of what it felt like waiting a year for the next one,” Steve responded as he walked you to the passenger side of his car and you turned around to look up at him instead of opening the door.

“Y’know, if you had read the books, it wouldn’t have felt like much of a cliffhanger,” You said teasingly, a small smile on your face.

He let out a laugh. “You’re never gonna let me live down this book thing, are you?”

“Nope, never.”

Instead of saying anything in response to your still teasing words, Steve closed the small bit of distance between you two and pressed his lips against yours.

Maybe you should’ve seen it coming because of how close you’d been standing and the sweet smile he was giving you right then, but you didn’t.

His hand that wasn’t linked with yours came up to cup your cheek, and then the other let go of your hand and found your waist.

You felt something twist in your stomach, a fluttery feeling that you weren’t at all used to, and instead of focusing on it, you attempted to simply shut your mind off completely.

Steve was a good kisser, really good. And just for a moment, it felt entirely right to simply kiss him back and not think or worry about anything else. One of your hands took on a mind of its own and carded through the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him closer to you.

For the briefest of moments, you genuinely felt content. Like you were living in a different version of your life, and you didn’t mind it all too much.

But then, suddenly, it was as if everything that you shouldn’t have been thinking about, especially right then, hit you like a ton of bricks. And you were back to being your normal self.

Your mind became consumed with nothing but thoughts of Eddie. You started wondering if his date was going well, if he was joking around and laughing with Julia, if he was kissing her too. The thought of any of that happening made you feel equal parts sad and worried.

A part of you wished that you would’ve set him up with a shitty person so that the odds for the date going badly would be high, but you knew that you would’ve felt way too guilty about doing that. Therefore, instead you asked Julia, who you had met last semester in a creative writing class. She was really cool and interesting, and you could see her and Eddie getting along well enough.

Shit. Maybe too well?

Now, all at once, the only thing you could really think about was how much of a bad idea this was. All of it.

You shouldn’t be standing in this parking lot kissing Steve right now. Eddie shouldn’t be out with Julia. You shouldn’t have suggested this idea in the first place, and you definitely should’ve never gone through with it. All of this was so dumb.

You were abruptly pulling away from Steve.

“I’m sorry. I can’t,” You said softly as you dropped your gaze to the ground because it felt too hard and too embarrassing to hold eye contact with him in that moment. “It, um— This shouldn’t have happened. I… I like Eddie.”

You had never actually said those three words out loud— not even to Robin; although there were a bunch of moments in the past year and a half of knowing her that you had wanted to— and you weren’t even entirely sure why you were finally saying them in this moment. But, it felt like Steve deserved to have somewhat of an explanation as to why you needed this date to immediately end.

“Oh,” Was all he said at first, and then he was nodding as he seemed to process what you just said.

You weren’t sure what you expected him to say in response to your sudden confession. Perhaps it was simply your turn to talk and just ask if he could take you back to your apartment, where you were certain that you’d spend the rest of the night trying to forget that any of this ever happened.

Did you also now need to tell him to keep this secret that no one in your life knew? Maybe that was obvious? You weren’t entirely sure yet.

But then, before you could even really think about saying anything, Steve let out a breath of a laugh, as if he was being hit with an “aha!” moment. “Oh, if this whole blind date thing was about making him jealous we could��ve done something completely different. A double date would’ve probably made a lot more sense.”

You were quickly shaking your head at his words. “What? No. It’s not about making him jealous.”

“Okay… So, then, what is it about?” Steve asked, and somehow his question didn’t sound the least bit condescending or accusatory or annoyed, he just sounded genuinely curious. “Why did you let him set you up on a blind date and why did you set him up on one?”

That was a great question; one that you still felt entirely embarrassed by the answer to. “I don’t know… It’s not about anything.”

Before he could ask another question that you probably wouldn’t want to answer, you were stepping away from his car and letting your feet lead you away from him and the conversation completely. You weren’t sure where you were going, but you decided that that was okay because right then all you wanted was to forget about everything that had just happened.

You didn’t think that any of this— your need to avoid talking about what you honestly should’ve never said in the first place— really had anything to do with Steve, specifically. He was just collateral damage in this entire thing, and you actually kind of felt bad about that. He was also now the one person that knew something about you that nobody else in your life did.

You had only been walking for a few seconds, you hadn’t even left the movie theater parking lot yet, before he was catching up to you.

“Hey, I’m sorry about what I said, and for probably being an asshole back there. I’m just really confused right now,” He said as he fell in step with you. You still had no idea where you were going, but the street was long enough that you had a lot of time before you would have to choose if you wanted to make a left or right.

“No, don’t be sorry. This isn’t about what you said. Well, it is. But, I’m not mad about it,” You told him, keeping your gaze focused on the sidewalk ahead of you that was lit up by shitty streetlights on this road that you were seventy percent sure eventually led to a Target.

Things became quiet for a moment as you two kept walking. A part of you expected him to leave you and head back to his car, but he didn’t.

You still did not want to have this conversation— that you had technically initiated— with him, but you apparently could not run away from it, so you took a glance at him and then sighed and decided to actually be honest. “It’s just… I’m realizing that this whole thing was so stupid and I feel like such an idiot right now. I also feel like an asshole for dragging you into all of this. It was dumb of me to go on this date.”

“You’re not an idiot. And you’re not an asshole either,” Steve said with a shake of his head, and you didn’t get the chance to protest his words before he continued. “One date doesn’t really mean anything, and I didn’t expect anything more to happen after tonight.”

Hearing his words actually made you feel a little better. You still definitely felt like an idiot, but you didn’t feel too much like an asshole anymore.

“Okay,” Steve continued. “So you like Eddie.”

Hearing the words out loud, spoken so nonchalantly and from someone that wasn’t you, felt almost too weird, and maybe even a little wrong. But then, there was also the smallest part of you that felt sort of relieved that you weren’t keeping this solely to yourself anymore.

You were quiet for a second and then you were nodding at his previous statement before saying, “You’re the only person I’ve ever talked about this with.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, me and Eddie have a ton of the same friends, so it always just felt easier, I guess, to keep it to myself,” You explained, hands stuffing into the pockets of your jacket. “And also, never talking about it or actually admitting it out loud kind of, in a way, made it feel like it wasn’t really real. Which, I know sounds very dumb, but it was a really helpful mindset to have when he was dating someone for almost two years.”

“That makes sense,” Steve said. “Okay, I know the answer to this question is probably obvious, but you do wanna be with him, right?”

After another beat of silence, you were nodding again, no longer feeling embarrassed to admit it. You thought back to a moment that happened years ago in Eddie’s dorm room— sitting on his bed and listening to a band that he wanted to show you, and everything just suddenly switching for you. “Yeah.”

For the most part, Steve was still a stranger, but for some reason it no longer felt weird or awkward talking about this with him. And wasn’t that the saying, anyway— it was always easier to pour your heart out to a stranger?

“Okay,” He started with a nod, and you wondered where he was going with his words. “Then, you should make him jealous.”

You immediately laughed, assuming he was joking, but when he didn’t join in, you abruptly stopped. “You’re being serious?”

“Yeah, seriously, make him jealous,” Steve said. “Trust me, it’s a thing. If he has any sort of romantic feelings toward you, once he sees that you’re in a "relationship" he’ll finally realize it.”

He made it sound so easy, so obvious. But, it wasn’t.

“That’s literally impossible. I’m not anywhere close to being in a relationship.”

“We could pretend to date,” He responded with a shrug.

And for a second, you considered it— genuinely considered it. And a part of you actually wanted to say yes, but then you were thinking about how “dating” Steve just to potentially make Eddie jealous sounded slightly manipulative and at least a little messed up.

“I don’t know… Wouldn’t that be kind of a shitty thing to do?”

Steve shook his head. “Okay, as a guy, I think I can speak for all of us when I say that we’re very stupid most of the time. And sometimes we need that little push to realize something that probably should’ve been obvious.”

You had to admit, his words kinda made sense. But, doing this— fake dating him to maybe see if Eddie liked you back— had the potential of being one of the dumbest things you’d ever done. Still though, you couldn’t help but consider it.

And maybe that was the problem. You kept considering doing anything and everything except telling Eddie how you felt.

“I think I’ll just… finally be honest with him,” You said, but even as the words left your lips, you knew that you were lying.

“That works too. Why haven’t you been honest with him sooner?”

You let out a sigh. “He started dating someone and I thought I missed my chance. And even though he’s been single for months now, I really don’t wanna ruin the friendship.” Saying the words aloud reminded you of how terrifyingly true they were. “You know what, maybe I’ll just keep burying my feelings down like I have been for the past few years.”

“That sounds like a sad life.”

“Thank you,” You said dryly as you pulled out your half-eaten bag of Skittles and poured some in your hand and then held the pack out for Steve in a silent offering.

He opened his palm out toward you and you poured some in his cupped hand. “Thanks.”

You two finally made it to the first intersection on the street, and you stopped for a second, thinking about whether you should go right or left or continue straight toward the eventual Target down the road. You turned around instead, and Steve followed suit, both of you walking back in the direction of his car.

“Y’know, even if I said yes to this fake dating thing, why would you wanna do it? We’re basically strangers.”

“I can’t just wanna help for fun?” He responded, and you simply gave him a look that said “No” without you actually needing to say it. He sighed. “Okay, it’s kind of a long story, so I’ll just say parent stuff.”

Hearing that confused you, and you almost asked him to explain further, but you had already said no to the fake dating thing anyway, so there was actually no point in asking him about his parent stuff.

“Okay,” You said instead and things stayed quiet as you two continued walking back to his car and you offered him what was left of the Skittles.

The drive back to your apartment was also quiet, but it was the kind of silence that you didn’t feel like you needed to fill with your random thoughts. Probably because you were back to remembering that you wouldn’t be seeing Steve again after he dropped you off at home, so it didn’t matter what the silence felt like. And the song that was softly playing on the radio was enough to fill the air and make things feel okay too.

“Thanks for the ride,” You said once he was parked out in front of your apartment building. You wondered if Robin, Vickie, and Talia were still watching bad reality TV in the living room. “Oh, and, um, this is probably obvious, but please don’t tell Eddie about the whole liking him thing.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

“And also, I’m still really sorry about this entire night,” You told him as you unbuckled your seatbelt. “Probably the weirdest date ever for you.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve had weirder, actually,” He said, and you couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but it still made you laugh.

“Well, I hope I at least make the top three then.”

“You definitely do.”

“Thank you,” You smiled and then finally stepped out of his car. It honestly felt nice that things were ending on somewhat of a good note. “Goodnight.”

“‘Night.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You hoped that the relief you felt when Eddie started telling you about how bad his date was last night wasn’t so clearly written across your face. If it was blatantly obvious, you blamed your lack of a poker face in that moment entirely on the weed.

You were glad that you two were sitting out on his fire escape right then, side by side on one of the metal steps, because your gazes were more so focused on the buildings in the distance than on each other.

You had initially wanted to avoid the blind date talk for as long as possible. When you showed up at his apartment a little before twelve, you planned to not ask about it and instead, you were going to talk about anything else— the dumb assignment for one of your classes that you’d been procrastinating for the past week, or the in-depth plot of the reality show that Robin, Vickie, and Talia watched last night, which they spent an hour explaining to you when you got home.

If you did that then maybe the whole blind date thing could just be entirely forgotten and never talked about at all. That was definitely a dumb thought, but it still eased away some of your nervousness as you walked over to his place.

But then after Eddie suggested that you two go and smoke out on the fire escape since it was a surprisingly warm day for the end of January, he was launching into how everything went last night.

“This just reminded me why dates suck. All of the random awkward silences and shit,” He continued as he leaned back against the step. “Julia was really nice and everything, but I don’t see anything more happening. Also, she loves The Beatles, and I know it absolutely makes me an asshole to judge that, but still, The Beatles, really?”

You let out a laugh. “Yes, you’re definitely an asshole for that.”

“Anyway, how was your date with Steve?” He asked as he passed what was left of the joint back over to you, and you took a long drag of it so that you could consider your words for a few moments.

Last night as you sat in bed, thinking about inevitably having this exact conversation with Eddie, you realized that there were a few different ways you could answer the question. You could slightly lie by saying, “It was fine, but it’s definitely not gonna lead anywhere, and I doubt I’ll see him again,” or you could be a thousand percent honest and say, “It was good at first, but then all I could think about was you because I like you and doing this whole thing was so stupid.”

Ultimately, though, you didn’t say either of those things in this moment— even though, last night, before you came to the silly conclusion that maybe the blind date talk could be avoided altogether, you had prepared to simply take the easy way out and lie.

“It was really good,” You found yourself saying instead. Which was also a lie, but not the one that you were supposed to say. “Steve was nice and funny, and we actually got along really well. I think we’re gonna go out again.”

You weren’t entirely sure why you were abruptly doing pretty much exactly what Steve had suggested last night, but somehow you didn’t immediately regret it, and you partly blamed that on the weed.

Eddie turned to look at you. “Really?”

“Yeah, I think I like him a lot,” You blurted out, only further doubling down on the entire thing. You waited for a moment to see if any part of you wanted to take back your words and just jokingly backtrack on the whole thing, but you surprisingly didn’t.

Not even twenty-four hours ago, you thought that doing this fake dating thing was the worst idea ever, even more insane than the blind date idea. But, now all you could think was, fuck it, maybe it was actually worth a shot.

“Wow, I can’t believe I actually successfully played matchmaker for you,” Eddie said, laughing a bit. “Make sure to thank me in the vows at your and Steve’s wedding.”

You immediately rolled your eyes and playfully hit his arm. “Ha ha. Shut up.”

It somehow wasn’t until a lot later— when you and Eddie were on his couch sharing a bag of chips that you’d definitely have to replace because they were his roommate’s, and you were slowly starting to come down from your high— that you finally realized, Shit, did Steve still even want to do this fake dating thing?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

next part!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington series #stranger things imagine #stranger things series

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