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taro-bae · 4 months ago

Note

can u do twst 3rd years reacting to you saying "I love you" for the first time? :3

Twisted Wonderland - Third Years

Summary: reacting to you saying "I love you" for the first time

Characters: Third Years + Che'nya (I love him so much)

CW/Notes: gn!reader, fluff, romantic, preestablished relationship (let's say dating for some time now)

Trey Clover

It was a long day of classes and Trey's duties with housewarden responsibilities. But one thing he was never tired for was checking up on you, making sure you're hydrated and feeling your best. Trey made his way to you, happy to see you after a being on his feet all day. He was doing some small act of service for you when you hit him with the statement that caught the calm vice-warden off guard.

The words "I love you" repeated in his head. It took him a moment to process what you just said. He gazes at you sheepishly with a soft smirk, "say it again...?". Trey look directly into your eyes trying to catch every micro reaction from you and grasp your true feelings. And after you say it again he steps closer to you meeting you at eye level. He might look composed with a light smirk on his lips, but inside his heart completely melted for you.

"I love you too~" he says dropping an octave lower, keeping his voice calm and cool, specifically to tease you. Trey, being quite the tease loves seeing your cheeks flush with colour, even if it is barely noticeable. He opens his arms pulling you into an embrace as one of his hands pats your head. Still with that smirk he'd pull you right into his chest letting you hear his heartbeat.

Cater Diamond

Cater paused when you confessed to him, telling him those three words. His expression faltering a bit. This wasn't exactly the first time someone confessed their feelings to him. However, this time it felt different. This time it felt genuine ans sincere, like you actually meant it.

"I... Uh..."

He had his share of admirers and crushes, but this confession felt more...real. Cater now felt more flustered and unsure. He's used to hidding his feelings and putting on a happy carefree face, but this time you saw it slip a bit on his face when his expression softened. He seemed more vulnerable but recovered quickly.

"I love you too, cutie~♡"

That night he almost cried himself to sleep feeling actually loved and appreciated by someone. Especially that that someone is you.

Leona Kingscholar

"...what?"

Leona thought he misheard you. He was sitting on his bed, book in his lap when you caught him completely off guard leaving him in disbelief. When you repeat it again, his eyebrows frown slightly, but in his eyes you can see something hidden. He sets the book aside, the gravity of your words setting in leaving a sense of surprise and vulnerability as he tries to process them.

"Why the hell would you love me?"

Leona may act dismissive and find it difficult to accept comfort or love, even from his partner. Though his eyes convey something else. He scoffs and looks away, his tail thumping behind him while his ears lay flat. He doesn't want to be seen as weak, he has a reputation to maintain. "Stupid herbivore..." he thinks, but his dark tan cheek feel warmer. He's not good at expressing his emotions, and will need time until he even tries to say it back.

"You....ughhh, fine...I-...I might love you too..."

Vil Schoenheit

You love Vil, but the question is; who doesn't? He has an enormous share of fans and admires showering him in compliments. Although, they don't matter as much as yours.

Love is a bit of an odd concept in his life, in respect to his career and status. When the words "I love you" leave your lips he's taken aback. Despite his acting abilities and marvellous composure, Vil isn't the best with romance. He looks into your eyes seeing the devotion and pure adoration in your gaze. His own heart is pacing faster than he'd like, but he knows he loves you too.

After taking a controlled breath he speaks trying to keep his voice steady, "I love you too, my dear." Vil takes your hand in his, the look in his eyes turning serious, "this stays private between us, the media can be relentless to say the least...but I'm glad that you love me. And I love you the same"

Rook Hunt

It is certain that he said it to you before many times. Rook is patient whether you were ready to say it or not. He was dying to hear the first time you tell him that you love him, he's a sucker for romance.

When you approached him and finally said those words to him he wasn't actually caught off guard, his hunter mind is always prepared. However, he is over the moon. Instantly picks up both your hands together, kissing your knuckles while maintaining direct eye contact. "Oh~ Mon Amour, finally blessing me with your kind words! je t'aime aussi!"

His affections double after your confession, be prepared to receive lots of affection that point onwards.

Idia Shroud

"This level is for absolute NOOBS, the boss is set u-... HUH! WHA-?!"

Absolute chain reaction. Why do you do this to him. Poor boy was just sitting playing his games, while ranting to you, with his favourite anime in the background when you drop the bomb on him. Idia will spiral, his anxiety getting the better of him. For Idia, romance was a dead zone he wasn't interested in for a long time, until you.

"Did I mishear them? No, no, no...that can't be right? They said they LOVE...ME? maybe they meant the game...right right...the game...Wait no....UGHH WHAT DO I SAY...this so awkward..."

Idias hands begin to sweat, the tips of his hair turning a brighter pink. As well as his face, the red visible in contrast to his pale skin. A mumbled "A-are you sure" leaves his mouth without thinking. His heart and mind are absolutely racing escalating to a small panic attack. A few tears weld up in his eyes, he needs some reassurance that you mean it and will never leave him.

"You're n-not just saying that are you..." after you give him a hug he melts into your comfort hiding his face in your neck. He whispers a quiet "Don't leave me..."

Malleus Draconia

Malleus was lonely practically his whole life, starved of genuine affection and love. That changed when you came into the picture.

It was on a late night walk where you agreed to accompany him while he tells you about the gargoyles around campus. The intimate and quiet atmosphere was a perfect moment for you to tell him how you feel, letting the words slip from your tongue. Malleus stopped, meeting your gaze directly. He needs a moment to think and catch his breath.

One of his hands lifts to softly caress your cheek with the back of his fingers. His gaze is soft and loving when he looks down at you.

"You truly know how to make me happy, my beloved. Please allow me to love you...eternally."

For Malleus it didn't matter who you were or what happens after. All that matters is that you love him and that he's no longer alone.

Che'nya

He was teying to annoy you as he always does, sneaking in and appearing infront of you upsidedown to try steal a kiss. That is when you decide to get hin back for all his teasing and pranks.

"Che'nya, I love you" He freezes, body stiffening and cheeks dusted pink. His eyes would widen, mouth falling open slightly before shutting again as he attempted to form words. He's a sucker for true love, and a hopeless romantic at heart, your words mean a lot to him.

He blinks with wide yellow cateyes, his brain attempting to register just what you said before the words finally processed and a wide cheesy grin would break out across his face. He steps forward, hands catching your waist gently as he pulled you flush against his chest, head tilting as he spoke.

"You love me?"

When you confirm, his grin only grows wider, ears and tail perking up in happiness. "I love mew too, lyubimaya/lyubimiy~" He purrs back littering your face and neck with kisses.

Che'nya is mine >:(

Russian Che'nya Russian Che'nya Russian Che'nya!!!

I'd kill to call him Тёма (short for artemiy/artema) or Котик (kitty male endearment form) to his face!!!

UGGGHHH IM DOWN BAD FOR HIM

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2pndr · 3 months ago

Text

Secret In a Winter Wonderland - Part One

Sequel to Dinner In a Winter Wonderland

A/N: Split into two parts to give y'all a little Valentine's day gift. Enjoy!

Winter x Male Reader Fluff

6.8k words

It just sits there. Menacingly.

A reflective abyss on your bedside table, pulling your gaze in, swallowing it whole. Its surface is dark, still, resolute, offering up nothing but your own tired reflection.

Your elbows press into your knees, fingers interlocked, chin resting lightly as you watch. A restless sort of stillness settles over you, like a held breath, stretched thin. You tell yourself it’s ridiculous—this quiet expectation, this fixation on a single moment. And yet, here you are, transfixed, as if sheer willpower could make the inevitable happen just a little faster.

You gaze into the abyss, and the abyss gazes back.

Time slows. Your mind stills. You achieve a brief, bastardised nirvana—one born not of inner peace, but sheer unrelenting anticipation.

Your heightened state of awareness sharpens every detail around you: the distant hum of the heater battling the cold, the way the floor creaks when you shift your weight, the faint ticking of a clock you don’t remember ever buying. You can even smell your own existence—morning breath, yesterday’s worn clothes, and the distant, ghostly trace of whatever your neighbor was cooking at fuck-it-O’clock.

Not that any of it matters. The world outside could be crumbling, sucked up into the sky and you’d still be here. Watching. Waiting.

Then—a familiar tune, handpicked by you. A tremor escapes the abyss, shivering through the table. You see it. You feel it.

The abyss stirs to life, the darkness awakening into a symphony of colour and you’re met with what you’ve been so anxiously waiting for...

Hyoon is live: glorp

“OH COME THE FUCK ON!”

You groan, flopping backward onto your bed, phone queued to be crushed in your hand. The fuck does ‘glorp’ even mean? The worst part? You don’t even remember following Hyoon. So either, you’re under some algorithmic curse, or it’s some divine punishment for your hubris of hope.

You glare at the abyss. The abyss sneers back.

It doesn't have any appendages but you swear to god if it did, it’d be flipping you off.

With a sigh, you swipe the notification away, telling yourself it’s fine. It’s not like you were waiting for a message from Minjeong or anything.

….Okay, you totally were.

She was probably just busy, right? Or sleeping in? Or—God forbid—had actually forgotten.

A childish concern to be sure. But one that torments you anyway.

Every morning for the past few days, you’d woken up to her cheerful messages—a jolly “good morning��, a lively teasing, or if you were really lucky, a video call where she’d spend half the time hiding her face because she “looks ugly without makeup!”

Today, though, there’s nothing.

You shake your head, trying to push it down. It’s not like you’re entitled to a text. You’re not even dating. You’re just… close. Close enough that something about today just feels off. Close enough that your past five mornings have come to revolve around this one, singular moment.

So, you do the only reasonable thing you can: bury yourself beneath the covers and pretend none of this is happening.

For a minute, it almost works. The warmth of your blankets, the lingering sleepiness clinging to your limbs—it all lulls you into a state of half-consciousness, where the world is soft and Minjeong exists only in vague, glowing, adorable impressions. The sound of her laugh, the way she hides her face when she’s flustered, the warmth in her eyes when she��

Ding-dong.

The fucking doorbell.

You groan, dragging yourself out of bed with all the enthusiasm of a man heading to the gallows. Who the hell even—

Knock knock knock.

Followed by a pause. And then—

Knock knock knock knock knock knock knock.

You grit your teeth. Whoever it is, I swear to God—

Ding-dong.

The doorbell again.

“I’m coming!” you snap, voice sharper than intended. The knocking stops immediately. But just as you reach the door, you swear you hear a faint giggle on the other side.

The door swings open, and—

“Surprise!”

Minjeong.

She stands there, cheeks flushed from the cold, snowflakes clinging to her adorable little beanie. Her navy coat is buttoned up to her chin, uniting with her scarf to make her look impossibly cozy. Her smile is wide, bright, her voice honey-smooth with that gorgeous teasing lilt.

She wasn’t ignoring you. She was here.

And then she lunges.

Before you can react, she wraps her arms around you, her face burying into you. It’s abrupt—too quick for someone as shy as Minjeong usually is—but her grip is firm, almost desperate. Like she’s been holding onto this impulse for days and finally gets to give in.

You hesitate for half a second before your arms come up to reciprocate. Maybe it’s just your imagination. Or maybe absence really does make the heart grow fonder, because she’s warm. Too warm for someone who was just trudging about in the snow.

It takes you a moment to realize she’s not letting go. Not immediately. Not like a casual greeting. Instead, she lingers—because staying here, just like this, feels right in a way neither of you want to break just yet.

“I missed you,” She mumbles into your chest.

And you missed her. But you just hold her tighter, letting your arms say it for you.

She lingers. Long enough that you feel her breathing even out, long enough that the cold on her coat fades, long enough that when she finally pulls back, it’s slow, reluctant—she doesn't quite want to let go.

And frankly, you don’t want to either.

Her hands hesitate at your sides, fingers curling like she might change her mind and stay just a little longer. But then she exhales, a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh, and steps back, tucking a stray strand of white hair behind her ear.

Minjeong looks up at you, her expression unreadable for a moment—something between embarrassment and contentment. Then, like a switch flipping, she schools her face into something more familiar: light, teasing, joyful.

“Now,” she begins, the corners of her lips curling as if nothing had happened, “are you ready for today, or do you need a few minutes to stop looking like you just rolled out of bed?”

For as long as you can remember, you’ve always hated Christmas.

(Yeah, you can’t believe you were like that either.)

It’s a sentiment that had you aptly nicknamed “The Grinch" by those unfortunate enough to be in your circle. Minus the Jim Carrey charisma, of course.

It wasn’t the bitter winter chill that seemed to ignore flesh, or the gaudy over-saturation of red and green that plagued the city. Not even the endless loop of Mariah Carey that played everywhere three months in advance seemed to get to you.

…Alright, maybe a little bit.

What did get to you, though, was that gnawing feeling, one that lingered throughout the year, lurking beneath, only exposing itself in all its agonizing glory during the holiday season.

You were alone. And worse than that—you felt like you always would be.

It was something you had long come to terms with. You thought yourself someone incapable of forming new connections, that chance hindered by the fear of fucking up every possible interaction you ever had.

Then she came along and shattered your whole worldview.

It was effortless with her. Conversations would flow without you overthinking every word. Silences weren’t awkward either—they just were. She laughed at your dumb jokes, complimented you like she’d known you forever and listened in a way that made you feel like you actually mattered.

It felt like you didn’t have to try so hard. And for the first time in a very, very long time, you weren’t on the outside looking in.

Honestly, you had your friends to thank for that. Funny how that worked—they were the ones who begged you to go on that ridiculous Christmas quadruple date in the first place, even bribing you to come along.

You went that night thinking you were doing them a favor. But now? Not even a week into knowing her?

You look over and smile.

You can’t imagine a world without Kim Minjeong.

“I do have eyebrows,” she huffs beside you.

You blink. “What?”

Minjeong glares, cheeks puffing out just slightly—an expression you’ve seen before, but never this close. “You were staring at them.”

It takes you a second to catch up, your brain still half-lost in the warmth of your own thoughts. Then it clicks.

Oh. This again.

“You’re still on about that?” you say, fighting a smirk.

She turns her head sharply, huffing like you’ve insulted her honor. “You literally said it the other day.”

“I never said you don’t have eyebrows,” you defend, shoving your hands into your pockets. “I just said they’re, you know… subtle.”

“They’re not subtle!” she argues, gesturing vaguely at her face.

“I mean, they kind of are,” you tease, tilting your head as if re-evaluating them. “Like, if I had to describe them, I’d say they’re… elusive.”

She gasps, scandalised, smacking your arm with a force that doesn’t match her size. You wince dramatically, rubbing the spot, but it’s worth it to see the way her pout deepens.

You had brought it up during one of those lucky wake-up video calls, mostly because it had been the first time you’d ever seen her completely barefaced. Her hair was damp, eyelids heavy and yet she still looked so goddamn adorable and huggable and a thousand more adjectives for how endearing she always was—not that you had the guts to say any of them out loud. Instead, your brain had done what it always did in moments of vulnerability: it scrambled for something stupid to say.

And somehow, that stupid thing had been, “Huh. You really weren’t lying about the eyebrow thing.”

Minjeong had instantly slapped a hand over her forehead, shrieking in horror while you laughed so hard you nearly dropped your phone.

“You’re just twisting my words,” you say now, unable to resist teasing her further. “I never said you don’t have them.”

She scoffs, turning back to you with pursed lips and narrowed eyes. “You implied it.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“I should put my fist in your mouth.”

The deadpan delivery nearly makes you wheeze. You can’t help but chuckle, “Well, whatever helps you sleep at night. Eyebrow-less or not.”

Minjeong groans in exasperation, dragging a hand down her face, but there’s no real ire there. If anything, you catch one of her signature smiles ready to burst out.

The banter drifts into silence—the two of you aren’t exactly conversationalists—but you don’t mind, and neither does she. It’s a comfortable silence.

Because even though neither of you are brave enough to admit it, you both know the other wants to be there.

Minjeong turns her head away at the thought, a little too quickly—she’s hoping you won’t catch the flush creeping up her cheeks. The glow of the streetlights isn’t doing her any favors, painting her in warm golds that give her more attention than she’d probably like. She clears her throat, stuffing her hands deeper into her pockets, the attempt at nonchalance falling apart when she shifts closer—just slightly—enough that her arm brushes against yours before she freezes, like she’s debating whether to move away again.

She doesn’t.

You pretend not to notice, and she pretends she doesn’t want you to. But the heat lingers where your arms continue to blissfully collide, warming you unlike your coats and scarves ever could.

And for the first time in forever, the city around you doesn’t feel quite so cold.

It occurs to you that neither you or her really go out that much.

Because frankly, you’re both in awe.

The market feels like a wellspring of life: the countless people weaving in and out of stalls, the gorgeous glow of lanterns swaying in the wind, the scent of whatever divine snack that old auntie is cooking up. It all feels like something out of a fairytale—like a place where time slows down for a little while.

Beside you, Minjeong takes it all in with quiet wonder, her hands tucked deep into her coat pockets. She’s always been the type to observe rather than dive right in, (at least you guess it is—it’s how you are, after all) but today, she looks lighter—like she’s letting herself enjoy the moment, letting herself be here, with you.

And for that reason, your chest feels warmer than it should.

You watch as she slows near a stall selling candied strawberries, gaze lingering for just a second too long before she shakes her head and keeps walking.

“You know,” you start, stuffing your hands into your own pockets, “there’s something kinda nice about today.”

Minjeong tilts her head toward you. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” You glance up at the lights overhead. “New Year’s Day always feels… different. Like a reset. No pressure, no expectations—just a fresh start.”

She hesitates mid-step. It’s brief, barely noticeable, but you catch it.

When you glance at her, she’s looking down at the stone path beneath her feet, her lips pressing together like she’s trying to hide a reaction.

“…Yeah,” she says after a moment, her voice quieter than before. “It’s kinda the point, no?.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you just shrug and keep walking.

The subject drifts, and soon enough, Minjeong’s energy picks up again. She tugs you toward different food stalls, eyes flicking between them like she’s looking through a magazine

“Hotteok sounds good,” she muses, then immediately wavers. “But tteokbokki is, like, a classic…”

She stands there for ages, bouncing on her heels, muttering under her breath—“Sweet or spicy? Ugh, why is this so hard?”—before finally throwing her hands up in defeat.

“Okay, both!” she finally declares, turning to you like it was the obvious answer all along.

You watch as Minjeong receives the hotteok from the vendor like a child on Christmas day, holding it up to you with the biggest smile on her face. She hands it to you as she practically skips over to the tteokbokki vendor.

The vendor eyes you both with a knowing smile as she hands over the food.

“You two make such a cute couple,” she says, her voice warm, like she’s seen this scene a hundred times before.

You and Minjeong freeze at the exact same time.

Your first instinct is to correct her, to say something—anything—but Minjeong doesn’t. She doesn’t argue, doesn’t scoff, doesn’t even look at you. Instead, she just quietly takes the tteokbokki, her fingers wrapping around the warm paper cup, and murmurs a soft, barely audible, “Thank you.”

You clear your throat, shifting slightly on your feet. “Uh, yeah—thanks.”

Neither of you say anything else. Neither of you correct her.

Because the thing is—being mistaken for Minjeong’s boyfriend doesn’t feel wrong. It doesn’t feel like some ridiculous, impossible idea.

It feels like something you could get used to.

The thought follows you as you both take a seat at a vacant table, Minjeong carefully blowing on a piece of rice cake before taking a bite. She scrunches her nose slightly at the spice, and without thinking, you nudge a drink from the vending machine closer to her. She takes it wordlessly, sipping at it with a warm smile and sigh of relief.

Yeah. You could really get used to this.

She puts the drink back on the table and freezes.

You barely catch it—the way her fingers falter around the bottle, how her eyes widen slightly before she ducks her head, shoulders curling inward. It’s quick, so quick that if you weren’t looking at her, you would’ve missed it entirely.

Then, as if on instinct, she suddenly moves closer to you, pressing into your side ever so slightly.

“What—?” you begin, but she shushes you, fingers wrapping around your sleeve as she subtly angles herself away.

“Move.”

“Move where?”

“Just—stay still.”

You frown, about to question her, when you follow her gaze toward the other side of the market.

Karina, Giselle, and Ning Ning.

They’re not exactly hiding well—huddled together behind a food stall, peeking out from behind a cart of roasted sweet potatoes, whispering among themselves. The moment you make eye contact, Ning Ning grins.

Oh.

Minjeong groans under her breath, already knowing what’s about to happen. And before you can say anything, she stands up, spins on her heel and speed-walks straight behind a stack of crates.

You blink, staring at the spot where she was just standing. Then at the girls making their way toward you with far too much mischief in their eyes.

“Hey,” Karina greets smoothly. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You sigh. “Heeeeey.”

“You know,” Giselle starts, tilting her head, “we were wondering if you’ve seen Minjeong. She left the apartment really early this morning.”

“Super early,” Ning Ning adds.

“So early,” Karina echoes, nodding solemnly.

You raise an eyebrow, trying your best to keep your expression neutral. “Really?” You pretend to think to yourself before concluding: “Sorry, got no idea.”

There’s a beat of silence as the three of them stare at you expectantly.

Giselle crosses her arms. “Really?”

“Mhm.”

“She’s not here?” Ning Ning presses.

“Nope.”

Karina hums, shifting her weight onto one foot. “So you’re just… out here. Alone. At a New Year’s market. With two cups of tteokbokki?”

The anxiety in your laugh is about as subtle as a shotgun shot. “Guys gotta eat.”

“Right,” Giselle nods, teasing. “And you were just talking to yourself earlier, huh?”

You shrug. “Well uh—Sometimes, you gotta have a conversation with the only person who truly understands you.”

“You always buy two drinks?”

“Thirst like a camel,” you take a sip.

Ning Ning gestures to the table. “And the second set of chopsticks?”

“Better safe than sorry.”

There’s a long silence. Any more questions and you’ll be out of clichés.

Karina exhales a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “Wow.”

Giselle looks impressed. “I gotta admit, you’re committed.”

“Yeah, I respect it,” Ning Ning nods. “But also, you suck at lying.”

Your lips press together in a flat line, eyes narrowing in annoyance, but before you can say anything, Karina suddenly sighs. “Oh well. I guess since Minjeong isn’t here, I should probably tell you how much she talks about you back home.”

Your eyebrows lift slightly. “Oh?”

Sorry, Minjeong. You’re gonna have to hear this one.

“Mhm,” Karina muses, crossing her arms. “She’s always going on about how cut—”

“I SWEAR TO GOD, KARINA.”

Minjeong bursts from her hiding spot so fast she nearly knocks over a stand. You can just about see lightning start to materialise around her as the sky turns a few shades darker. You’ve never heard her yell—never even seen her truly angry, and yet, even with all that irritation boiling over, she still manages to be her enchantingly charming self. She scrambles to steady herself, cheeks flaring with embarrassment, glaring daggers at her friends as they burst into laughter.

“There you are!” all three sarcastically remark as schrodinger’s eyebrows narrow at their chortling.

Before you can even think to react, Minjeong suddenly dashes and all but throws herself behind you, gripping the back of your coat like a shield against the relentless teasing.

“You guys are the worst,” she hisses, voice muffled slightly from where she’s pressed her forehead against your shoulder.

You blink, your mind caught somewhere between amused and a little stunned at how quickly she’s decided you are now her human barricade. The warmth of her fingers clinging to your sleeve is distracting—almost as distracting as the way her embarrassment is now being shared with you as you’re forced to stare down her friends.

Giselle folds her arms, grinning like she’s just been handed the juiciest gossip of her life. “What’s wrong Minjeong? We couldn’t just miss your very first date!”

Minjeong groans, squeezing the fabric of your coat like she’s physically bracing herself. “It’s not a date.”

“Uh-huh.” Ning Ning nods sagely. “ Let’s see, you came here together. Are eating together. Laughing together. And if I do say so myself,” she giggles “looking just the cutest together.”

Now you wish you had a human shield to hide behind.

Minjeong tugs your coat harder. You’re not sure if it’s for comfort or because she’s planning on suffocating herself in it and retorts,“Oh, shut up.”

Karina sighs, pulling out her phone with the kind of enthusiasm only a proud mother could have, already angling for the perfect shot. “Well, whether it’s a date or not, we should probably get a photo to commemorate the occasion.”

Minjeong’s grip tightens to a death hold. “No.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Karina says, already tapping at her screen. “It’s an important day.”

“For what?” Minjeong demands, voice high and outraged.

Giselle smirks. “Your anniversary, duh.”

Minjeong makes a noise like she’s about to combust on the spot.

You laugh, glancing down at her, still very much using you as a human shield. If this were you a week ago, you’d probably want to protest as much as she does—but something about annoying this girl just feels right.

“I mean, if they’re offering…” you tease.

She jerks her head up to glare at you, her mortification morphing into mild betrayal. “Not. Helping.”

You grin, but before you can say anything else, Karina is already holding up her phone. “Alright, lovebirds, get closer.”

“We are close,” Minjeong deadpans, considering she is quite literally glued to your side.

Ning Ning waves a hand. “Closer.”

Minjeong groans in defeat but doesn’t move away. Instead, she grumbles something under her breath before begrudgingly tilting her head so it rests lightly against your arm.

Your stomach does a backflip.

Click.

Karina inspects the photo with a satisfied nod before showing it to the others. “That’s a keeper.”

“Oh yeah,” Giselle agrees, smirking at Minjeong. “We’re sending this to your mum.”

Minjeong stiffens. “Do not send that to my mum.”

“No promises.”

She lets out the longest sigh of her life, looking utterly done with everything and everyone.

Finally, Karina tucks her phone away with a little smirk. “Alright, we’ll leave you guys to it. But don’t have too much fun without us, okay?”

“Yeah,” Ning Ning winks. “We’ll see you two lovebirds at the B—New Year’s party later.”

Minjeong doesn’t even fight it this time, just slumps further against your side as they wave goodbye and disappear into the crowd. Then, with the heaviest sigh yet, she finally looks up at you.

“…I can’t believe I’m friends with them.”

You chuckle, shaking your head in amusement.

She narrows her eyes. “And you—” she jabs a finger into your arm, still not letting go of your sleeve. “You totally threw me under the bus back there.”

“How?”

“The photo! You helped them.”

You grin. “What’s wrong? I bet it was cute.”

Minjeong stares at you, lips parting slightly before she scoffs, crossing her arms. “Oh yeah? And what makes you think that?”

You tilt your head, considering. Then, with an easy shrug, you say, “Because you’re in it.”

Cheesy? You’re goddamn right.

There’s a pause, though.

A very long pause.

Minjeong’s mouth opens, then closes again. Her cheeks start turning pink at an alarming rate, and for a second, she looks like she might explode. Then, with a sharp exhale, she turns her head away, grumbling under her breath.

“Don’t think just because you complimented me, I’m not still angry,” she mutters.

She says that, but you can’t help but notice she’s still wrapped herself around your sleeve.

Yeah, you could get really, really used to this.

The mall doors slide open with a rush of warm air, a stark contrast to the chill still clinging to your coats. Minjeong is latched onto your sleeve, the way she has been ever since your run in with her friends.

She doesn’t seem to notice.

And you don’t mention it.

Instead, you take in the change of scenery: crowds still weaving—only this time through stores—holiday decorations glinting under bright overhead lights, and the distant hum of Mariah Carey playing from the food court.

(It’s almost been a week, you muppets.)

You notice a couple, standing close near the entrance of a boutique. The girl is holding onto her partner’s sleeve, much like Minjeong is doing now. They exchange quiet words, laughter curling into the air between them, before the guy leans down—pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

Minjeong stiffens.

And then—like she’s been caught with her hand in the cookie jar—her hand is gone.

The warmth of her grip vanishes in an instant. She tucks her hands into her coat pockets, glancing away so fast you’d think she just witnessed something scandalous. The tips of her ears glow red beneath the strands of hair peeking out from her beanie.

Your brain stalls for a moment, your own face heating. You need to say something. Anything.

And so, with the smooth eloquence of a man who has definitely not just had his brain scrambled, you mumble, “Drinks,” pointing to the café conveniently in the opposite direction of the couple.

Minjeong exhales, a breathy sort of laugh slipping out as she latches onto the suggestion like it’s a life raft. “Yes. Drinks would be nice.”

Neither of you comment on the fact that her voice is about an octave higher than usual.

As is expected of the new year, the café is quite full, but you manage to snag a small table near the window. Minjeong sits across from you, her hands wrapped around her cup like it’s a small, comforting anchor. She takes an absentminded sip, letting out a tiny, pleased hum at the taste.

“I think I won,” she says after a moment, her voice soft but with a hint of pride. She glances at your drink, then back at hers. “Mine’s better.”

You raise an eyebrow, feigning skepticism. “Bold claim. What did you even get?”

“Hazelnut latte,” she says, lifting her cup slightly as if to prove her point. “It’s… really good. Like, reeeeally good.”

You nod slowly, playing along. “And you’re sure it’s not just, I don’t know, sugar disguised as coffee?”

She gives you a look, half-amused, half-unimpressed. “It’s balanced. You wouldn’t understand.” Her tone is as casual as can be, but you feel like she’s trying a little too hard to keep the conversation going. It’s not hard to guess why. The memory of the couple near the boutique is etched into your eyelids. It too haunts you.

So, you humor her. “Alright, Miss Coffee Connoisseur. Prove it.”

She hesitates for a moment, her gaze flickering to your drink. Then, with a quiet determination, she reaches over, takes your cup, and lifts it to her lips. You blink, caught off guard, as she takes a careful sip. She lowers the cup, her lips pressing together thoughtfully before she nods.

“…Yep. Mine’s better,” she declares, setting your drink back down in front of you. Her voice is steady, but the tips of her ears are pink, and she quickly tucks her hands back into her lap.

You exhale a quiet chuckle, shaking your head as you take the cup back. You take another sip, only to pause. There’s something faintly sweet on the rim—something that wasn’t there before. It takes you a second to place it: her lip balm.

The realization makes your face warm, but you don’t mention it. Instead, you glance at her, only to find her already looking away, her focus suddenly very intent on her own drink.

And just like you feel one step closer to being that couple.

The two of you drift through the mall almost aimlessly.

Lunch together, getting mistaken for a couple, her clinging to your sleeve, coffee, her lip balm on the rim of your cup. It’s all there, lingering in your mind's eye.

The idea strikes you suddenly, almost impulsively: you should buy her something. A small token, maybe, to mark the day. After all, she’s been by your side through all of it, even when things got awkward.

It feels right.

“Hey,” you say, nodding toward a gift shop. “Let’s check it out.”

Minjeong glances at the shop, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then she shakes her head, her voice soft but firm. “It’s just a gift shop. We don’t need to go in.”

You shrug, already stepping toward the entrance. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Maybe they have something cool.”

She hesitates, but she follows you in anyway, though her steps are noticeably slower than yours. The shop is cozy, filled with shelves of trinkets, plush toys, and holiday-themed knickknacks. You start browsing almost immediately, picking up a snow globe and giving it a shake. Minjeong lingers near the entrance, her arms crossed loosely over her chest.

“Look at this,” you say, holding up a small, glittery keychain. “Isn’t this kind of your vibe?”

She glances at it, her expression neutral. “It’s… shiny.”

“Exactly,” you say, grinning. “Shiny is good.”

She doesn’t respond, her gaze drifting to a nearby shelf. You move on, picking up a stuffed reindeer and holding it out to her. “What about this? It’s cute, right?”

She eyes it for a moment, then shrugs. “I guess.”

Her lack of enthusiasm is starting to feel deliberate, but you press on, determined to find something she’ll like. You hold up a scented candle, a notebook with a floral design, even a pair of fuzzy socks. Each time, her responses are polite but distant, her tone clipped.

Finally, you turn to her, holding up a small, delicate bracelet. “Okay, what about this? It’s simple. Classy. Totally you.”

She looks at it, then at you, her expression softening for just a moment before she shakes her head. “You don’t need to buy me anything,” she says, her voice quieter now. “Really.”

There’s something in her tone—something almost pleading—that makes you pause. You lower the bracelet, studying her face. “Why not? It’s just a little something. ”

She looks away, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. “It’s not that. I just… don’t need anything. Let’s go.”

Her insistence feels strange, almost out of character, but you don’t push it. Instead, you set the bracelet back on the shelf and follow her out of the shop. As you step back into the mall, she exhales softly, almost like she’s relieved.

You glance at her, trying to read her expression, but she’s already walking ahead, her hands back in her pockets. There’s a distance between you now, physical, yes, but also something you can’t quite name. You want to ask her what’s wrong, but the words don’t come. Instead, you fall into step beside her, the silence between you uncharacteristically uncomfortable.

You’re wrestling with the idea that you fucked things up.

Minjeong is still walking beside you, but something feels… off. The usual rhythm between you—the comfortable silences, the easy back-and-forth—it’s not quite there anymore. You keep replaying the moment over in your head, dissecting every word, every hesitation in her voice. Was it too much? Did I push too hard?

She looked relieved when you dropped it. That’s what gets to you the most.

You risk a glance at her. She looks normal enough—hands tucked in her pockets, gaze flitting over the decorations lining the streets—but now that you’re paying attention, you notice the way she keeps her shoulders just a little too stiff, her head angled to the floor like she’s deep in thought.

You want to fix it. Whatever it is.

But you don’t know how.

And so, as the two of you step into the crisp winter night, a quiet, creeping fear settles in your gut—

Maybe you ruined the day.

You’re half considering diving head first into the snow when she finally turns to look up at you.

“I’m not mad at you, you know.”

Oh thank God.

You blink,“You’re not?”

Minjeong raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Do I look mad?”

You hesitate. “…A little?”

She rolls her eyes, sighing like you’re the most dramatic person she’s ever met. “Well, I’m not,” she says, shifting her weight. “So you can stop looking like a kicked puppy.”

The tension in your chest loosens, but not completely. “Are you sure? Because if this is one of those ‘I’m fine’ situations where you’re actually seething and plotting my demise, I’d rather know now.”

That earns you a small huff of laughter, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. “I promise I’m not mad. I just…” She pauses, her gaze flickering away for a brief second before she shrugs. “I don’t really like receiving gifts. That’s all.”

Something about the way she says it, the way her hands burrow even deeper into her pockets, makes you think it’s not all. But she’s looking at you so earnestly, like she’s hoping you’ll just take her words at face value, and—well.

If she doesn’t want to talk about it, you won’t push.

“…Alright,” you say,“I guess that means I’ll have to keep my incredibly thoughtful, totally amazing gift ideas to myself.”

Minjeong snorts. “Tragic.”

“You have no idea.”

And just like that, the air between you feels lighter again. It’s not entirely resolved, but at least you're not back to square one. For now, it’s enough.

Enough for you to start teasing her again, that is.

“So,” you start, watching Minjeong out of the corner of your eye. “Do you really talk about me back home?”

Minjeong stiffens for half a second before tilting her head, feigning confusion. “Huh?”

“Karina said you talk about me.” You shove your hands deeper into your coat, biting back a smile. “A lot.”

She scoffs, her breath coming out in a visible puff of air. “Okay, a lot is an exaggeration.”

You give her a look.

Minjeong keeps her eyes trained ahead, jaw set. “Barely,” she amends, her voice forcibly casual. “Like, a little. A tiny bit,” she emphasizes with her fingers.

You raise an eyebrow, unconvinced.

She exhales sharply through her nose, as if this whole conversation is an inconvenience. “Okay, fine—occasionally.”

You hum in response, nodding thoughtfully. “So, like... once a day?”

She clicks her tongue. “No.”

“Twice a day?”

Minjeong glares at you. “No.”

“Oh, three times?” You gasp dramatically. “Four?”

She whirls on you, cheeks dusted pink—probably from the cold, but also, maybe not. “You know what?” she says, voice a little too calm.

And then she bends down.

You blink, barely processing the movement before—

A snowball collides with your chest.

You stumble back half a step, mouth parting in surprise. Minjeong straightens, smirking in satisfaction, brushing leftover snow from her gloves.

“Oh,” you say slowly. “Oh, you wanna play that game?”

Minjeong takes a step back, as if realizing what she’s just set into motion. “Now, let’s not be rash—”

You don’t let her finish.

Your hand scoops up a fistful of snow in record time, and Minjeong yelps as she scrambles away, laughing.

She sprints toward a park bench and ducks behind it just as your snowball whizzes past her, landing harmlessly in a bush. Peeking out, she grins. “You missed.”

You shake your head, already gathering more snow. “I’m just warming up.”

Before you can throw, she lunges from her hiding spot and fires another snowball. You twist, but it still clips your shoulder, sending a flurry of cold against your neck.

“Okay—” You cough, shaking snow from your hair. “You’re gonna regret that.”

Minjeong shrieks as you charge at her. She haphazardly throws another snowball before turning to flee, but the fresh powder slows her down just enough. You scoop up more snow mid-stride, barely breaking pace as you launch it at her back.

Direct hit.

She lets out a gasp, whipping around. “Oh, you did not just—”

Another snowball grazes her arm.

Minjeong’s jaw drops. “Oh, that’s it.”

She grabs a double handful of snow and starts forming ammo at an alarming rate.

Your eyes widen. “Wait—”

Too late.

She launches one after another, relentless, laughing as you duck and scramble for cover. “Where’s all that confidence now?” she teases.

You manage to get behind a tree, pressing your back against the bark as snow explodes inches from your shoulder. “I am—” You dodge left. “—simply—” Dodge right. “—tactically retreating!”

Minjeong snorts. “Coward.”

You take a deep breath, then suddenly dash out from behind the tree. Minjeong yelps and backpedals, trying to reload, but you’re faster.

Grabbing her wrist, you spin her around—

“Got you—”

But before you can celebrate, she shoves a handful of snow directly into your face.

You freeze.

She gasps, hands flying to her mouth, eyes wide with shock at what she’s done. Then, as the snow drips from your nose, she bursts into laughter—full, unrestrained, delightfully breathless laughter.

It’s contagious. You start laughing too, shaking the ice from your hair as you both stumble back onto a patch of untouched snow.

The chase, the cold, the sheer ridiculousness of it all—it drains your energy in the best way possible.

Collapsing onto the ground beside each other, your chests heave from exertion, faces still flushed from the cold and laughter. The sky stretches above you, endless and star-studded, the park around you quiet again save for the occasional rustle of the wind.

Minjeong sighs, a contented little exhale. “That was fun.”

You turn your head to look at her. She’s smiling up at the sky, strands of hair falling loose from beneath her beanie. The moonlight catches the edges of her face, making her look softer, serene—completely different from the person who just tried to pelt you into oblivion with snowballs.

“The stars…” she practically whispers, “they’re pretty.”

You’re sure they are. But who are you kidding? You aren’t looking at the stars.

“Yeah,” you begin, “they’re gorgeous.”

She holds her hand up to the sky, then wiggles her fingers, frowning slightly.

“But my hands are freezing,” she mutters, flexing them. “My gloves are soaked.”

You glance down at her hands, then at your own—also wet. A simple observation. A logical conclusion. And yet, the next thought sends a nervous flutter through your chest.

Should you…?

Would that be weird?

Before you can overthink it, you just move.

Pulling off your gloves, you reach over, fingers brushing against hers tentatively before you fully take her hand in yours.

Minjeong gulps.

Oh, no. She’s not saying anything.

Maybe you should say something. Maybe this was a bad idea—

“I, uh—” You swallow. Your voice sounds smaller than you expected. “Your hands are really cold.”

Her fingers are delicate against your palm, ice-cold but soft. You gently press her hand between both of yours, rubbing slow circles over her knuckles, trying to bring warmth back into them.

Minjeong still doesn’t say a word.

Your heartbeat kicks up slightly. You finally glance up to check on her—and immediately feel your entire body freeze.

She’s staring at you.

Bright red.

Like, steam-should-be-coming-out-of-her-ears red.

“…You okay?” you ask, your voice just a little too careful.

Minjeong opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.

Then she looks away so fast you’re surprised she doesn’t get whiplash. “M-more than okay...”

You let out a soft, slightly breathless chuckle, though you can still feel your own ears burning.

“Right,” you murmur, squeezing her fingers gently.

She stays looking in the opposite direction, but—she doesn’t pull away.

You don’t either.

When your hands are of acceptable warmth, you clear your throat. “It’s getting late. We should probably go home. Get ready for the party.”

Minjeong doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she shifts, inching closer until her head lightly rests against your shoulder.

“M-Minjeong?”

“Can we stay here?” she murmurs, “just for a little longer.”

Your breath hitches.

You should be cold. The snow beneath you is biting through your coat, the chill in the air still lingers against your skin—but with Minjeong curled into you like this, the cold doesn’t seem to matter at all.

You swallow, suddenly unsure where to rest your hands—if you should move, if you should say something. But Minjeong lets herself relax into you. You glance down, only to find her eyes slipping shut, her body curling just into yours. The feeling of her pressed up beside you—even through layers of winter coats, is unmistakable.

Slowly, hesitantly, you move, lifting your arm and slipping it beneath her neck, letting her rest against you more comfortably. Your fingers brush lightly over her shoulder before settling there, holding her in place—not too tight, not too loose, but just enough.

A soft chuckle leaves your lips.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, resting your chin against the top of her beanie.

“Let’s stay a little longer.”

Thanks for reading! Part Two coming soon :DD

#aespa winter #minjeong fluff #minjeong x reader #winter fluff #winter x male reader #aespa fluff #aespa #aespa minjeong #kim minjeong

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lailau7904 · 8 months ago

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So y'all have seen the Williams F1 Logo before, yeah?

well get ready, becaues I am about to ruin your day!

where does one even begin with this. i am sorry in advance. -just a poor learning graphic design student, who simply tried to enjoy their saturday evening

The Logo

For anyone that doesn't know, here's the Williams F1 Logo. Entirely unedited, copied straight from Wikipedia:

Now like many fans, I actually quite enjoy this logo. I like the modern, sharp edges of it and it's simple yet intriguiging design. It's memorable, while also easily recognizable as a W. I also really enjoy the colour choice (this, however, is entirely a personal preference.)

(entire rant under the cut. please keep reading this took years off my life span.)

How did we even get here?

Let's start at the beginning. How did we even get here? Well I, a poor poor learning graphic designer, was watching this lovely video from Mr. V's Garage about bad F1 Logo's over the past 35 or so seasons. Very interesting, I can only recommend it (but you don't need to watch the video to understand this post)!

Now, to cleanse the palette at the end of the video, Mr. V included a top 10 GOOD logos from this time span, it was very kind of him.

On P4 of this "Good List," Mr. V placed the current Williams F1 Logo, as pictured above. At first I vaguely agreed with this, believing that he probably simply hadn't noticed one of the things that's been bothering me about that Logo since the first time I saw it up close.

The first sign of Trouble

So, what is this mystery issue, you might ask?

It's simple really. You don't necessarily notice it at a first glance, but something about that logo seems off. Taking a second longer, you may notice it yourself.

No, I mean it, take a minute and go look at the logo. It looks wonky as hell, doesn't it?

Well I can tell you the first thing that I personally noticed. The arms of the W aren't in line with the bottom half, see:

(Graphic by @girlrussell who was so kind to let me use it, as it is way prettier than the one I made)

It's a crooked W. There is no good explanation for this. The rest of the font is perfectly fine, geometrical shapes.

Anyway, the good person that I am I went to point this out to my partner ( @leftneb ) who proceeded to inform me that he, infact, was not aware about this and was, quote, "never going to unsee that."

Now, the good FRIEND that I am, I, of course, proceeded to rush into our broader F1 friendgroup to make them suffer for eternity.

What's the logical next step to take? Of course, fix the logo in Adobe Photoshop, you know, as a joke.

(Disclaimer at this point, I am not necessarily the biggest fan of Williams Management Team. I enjoy ALL their drivers this season. I do NOT enjoy James Vowels. Be warned.)(Also I am aware that he probably did not have an influence on the logo)

Trying to fix it. Oh god, I was so innocent back then

Trying to fix the logo in Photoshop is the worst mistake I could've made. THE worst path to take. I could've just giggled about making my friends suffer (which I succeeded in, by the way) and moved on. Instead I ruined a perfectly good Saturday evening, and for what? I don't know anymore.

Anyway, how was I gonna go about fixing the logo in the simplest way possible? Simplest way I could come up with: slap the thing in Photoshop and put two, mirrored boxes at each side to make the sides line up. Small issue, how do I make the thing actually even? Fix: line them up at the intersecting point with the bottom tips of the W.

Here's the result:

Hey, anyone care to explain to me why in THE LORDS NAME the arms are different sized? I mean, surely they weren't before. Surely, certainly, I must've messed up.

I double, I tripple checked. I made sure everything was lined up and made sense. But no.

It just couldn't be. Something was uneven in this logo, something even deeper. Something I could not have predicted when first taking a closer look. It was at this point I realized I had messed up. What rabbit hole had I stumbled across? Certainly, it couldn't get much worse.

And that's when I noticed.

(pictured above; my genuine reaction)

There's MORE? (oh god, the top isn't lined up)

I couldn't believe my eyes. This is the PINNACLE of the sport, and THIS was the logo of one of the competing teams? I mean, yeah, we have a Visa Cash App RB or a Kick Sauber or even a MoneyGram Haas which are all terrible logos, but at least they're CLEAN. (this has not been checked. If anyone wishes to ruin a nice Saturday evening, feel free to check them and tell me how wrong I was in the previous statement!)

But you can see that there is no end in sight for this post. I'm sure you're as scared as I was at this point. By now we were sitting in VC, discussing the horribleness of this logo. I had long informed my irl's about this, who take said design classes with me. And it was one of them who pointed out the next thing that had been bothering me, but I had not been able to put a finger on up to this point.

thE DISTANCE, HOW DID THEY FUCK IT?

I'm afraid I have to confirm your fears.

Yes, those lines are the same length. According to Photoshop, they're on the same level as well, so no flunking with angles.

The gaps of the arms to the main W are not the same. They're differently sized gaps.

It was clear to us, this logo is inherintely flawed. They're subtle issues, but once you pay attention you start to notice things. It all looks slightly wonky and off centre. And eventually, you get paranoid, and start comparing other angles and sizes. And you will keep finding things. This has ruined my life.

HOOOOOW

Honestly, I don't even know what to say. Yes, yes sadly those lines, too, are the same length. Just copied over from one side to the other and layed over on the same height. I admit, they're not layed over perfectly. I was honestly holding back tears at this point. But the point still stands, you can clearly see a difference in width.

Honestly, the only way I can explain it is that at some point there was a mess up of distance or proportions and whoever was designing the logo couldn't pin it down and tried to restore the visual balance by making manual adjustments. And in all honesty? They kinda did a good job, if that's what's happened. I mean, you notice the crookedness of the arms, and then maybe the difference in height, but the rest you probably will not notice if you don't spend too much time staring at it. (like some of us) And even those issues clearly aren't noticeable to the vast majority, considering I had to go point it out to a group chat for my friends at least to notice.

what the fuck is THAT?

Now, the thing about doing this investigative work of prooving a team you dislike is worse in more aspects than you previously thought, is that you do a lot of zooming in. And zooming in means you might notice bits that yours eyes simply overlooked before, because they were too small.

Here you can witness the top of the middle point, that, for whatever reason, really wants to touch the top border of the Logo. I'm relatively certain that's the highest few pixel in the entire graphic, considering earlier chapter "There's MORE?" I have no idea why it looks like that or why they thought it was necessary for it to not end in a clean point.

I just actually have no idea how to even describe what is going on on the top of the left arm. That left hand side, again, touches the side and is therefore the most-left-pixel in the graphic. I, once again, have no idea the purpose of this. However the RIGHT hand side also makes no sense, as it is the most prominent corner in the whole logo. There's pointed corners, and rounded OF corners, but nothing that is trying to form it's own colony in a distant land that hopefully isn't this god awful logo. I hope that blob gets away. I really do. You go king.

i'm loosing my mind

Anyway, the only reason I could come UP with those weird "reachy-outy-bits" was to establish the dimensions of the logo? But if that was the case, I don't understand why they managed to keep all the other potentially border touching corners clean?

Like, look. Those are clean, sharp corners with some clearance off the borders. I have no clue why they managed it here but not with the others.

guys. please.

Backtrackig a little bit, going back to the positioning of the arms.

Do I need to mention that those lines are both the same length and the same (mirrored) angle? I really hope I don't, because I don't think I could be making this shit up. Like, once you roughly know what you need to look for it just kinda becomes easy to find.

As said before, I genuinely do think that most of these issues happened in a chain-reaction. For example, the distances between the main part and the W wouldn't be as noticeable (and they do get noticeable once you start looking at it) if the angle wasn't fucked. And guess what, there's more fucked angles here! Which ALSO influence this specific area of the logo!

this is just embarrasing for you.

something something same line copied over and mirrored etc etc

It's not as visible but the angles defintely don't line up here as well. As mentioned before, these issues for the most part all influence each other. It doesn't really excuse the issues, in my opinion as a designer, because a big company like this shouldn't have these sort of issues in their logo.

So let's review;

to sum it up,

i cannot even BEGIN to explain to you how big of a fucking JOKE this FUCKING logo is. because, i thought to myself, to round the post out, hey, why not show ALL the issues i pointed out in one picture? that would round it out quite nicely, wouldn't it?

Yeah well, this logo sent STRAIGHT FROM HELL just could NOT let me rest. I had only done the lines visualizing the crooked arms in PAINT up until this point, i.e. I had only pulled both up individually. To make a nice "rounding out" picture I still had to add them into PHOTOSHOP. so i did. i pulled up the line. i mirrored the line.

THE ANGLE IS FUCKING DIFFERENT

none. and i mean NONE of my friends had noticed this before. i need you to understand that we looked at this thing with FIVE pair of eyes, and NONE of us noticed that until i thought to myself "Oh I still need to add these specific lines to have ALL the issues I pointed out in my SILLY TUMBLR POST in ONE image" and i get THAT FUCKING SURPRISE

I was PLANNING to round the post out with a statement on how obviously this isn't a serious post. Here, I even had it all written out already because I accidentally started writing it in the last paragraph:

Of course, this is nitpicking, and it's not that serious. I'm aware of that. AS MENTIONED most of these would not be noticeable if we hadn't gone specifically looking for them.

yeah, well, fuck that. i just spent two hours seething about this logo. i'm ending the post on this instead.

#i am ENRAGED #i managed to actually calm down about it #yk. just typing away #and then i just try to ROUND OUT THE POST #for fucks sake #anyway i know i'm posting this at an hourrendous hour #if you read all the way. reblog? maybe #pretty please #williams f1 #williams formula 1 #williams racing #formula 1 #f1 #also apologies for any spelling mistakes i do NOT have the nerve to go back and proofread this

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jinuaei · 1 year ago

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Alastor x Fallen Angel! Reader

Accidentally getting 'married' to Alastor

Part 2

You fucked up.

You don't know what you did but you know you fucked up somewhere. One moment you were in heaven doing something, the next you see a red sky in front of you. The feeling of air rush behind you as you finally realize that you were falling, the smell of something burning and rotten eggs surrounding you as you fall deeper and deeper to your demise. Or what you thought was your demise, what you instead fell onto was a roof that momentarily broke your fall, before face planting to the ground. That wasn't graceful of you.

Groaning in pain you try to sit up before a sharp burning sensation spreads through your back, at where your wings was supposed to be. The sound of dripping enters your ears and your vision is blurry when you try to open your eyes, you can only see blobs of colours and the most prominent one was red as well as... Gold. Pupils dilating, your eyes finally take in the view in front of you. White feathers fall around you as golden blood seeps into your white clothes, the pain, you realise came from your wings, getting ripped apart and burning off when you fell. You try to decipher where you're currently at, from what you see, you seem to be in an alleyway, behind you is a dumpster covered in your blood and feathers, following the trail of blood you see the roof you hit when you were falling.

You hypothesize where you're supposed to be, with how adamant Heaven is in teaching angels not to do any sins nor question the higher ups, its kind of impossible not to know what will happen to those who defy heaven as well as where they will go. A pentagram encompassing the whole red sky, the scent of sulfur, blood, and brimstone flooding your senses, with this in mind you now know where you are.

"I'm in hell..."

"Yes you are, my good fellow!"

Startled, you scream and cover your head in hopes of protecting it.

"Well that's quite rude! You're not supposed to scream bloody murder when someones trying to be friendly you know?," his voice was odd, staticy, akin to an old radio.

You sheepishly drop your hands down to your lap and look up at the man in front of you. He's quite the tall demon, dressed in red... well actually everything about him is red, save for the black accents in his outfit and ends of his hair. Speaking of hair you keep glancing up at the tufts of hair attached to his head, and if you look closely, the antlers hidden behind his fluffy bangs. Is he supposed to be a deer? That's actually really cute.

"Erm... Sorry, just I was just surprised someone popping out from nowhere," you reply, hands fidgeting with one of your broken feathers.

Eyeing the golden blood and the broken wings behind you, the demon grins, showing off his sharp yellowed teeth. Nevermind that's TERRIFYING.

"Now what's an angel doing in hell? Not to mention a bleeding one! How tempting," he licks his teeth, already thinking about how delicious your angel meat would be.

Something tells me that this demon is NOT here to help. Now think! Make something up so you wont get killed by this red deer thing!

"I'm your spouse assigned by heaven!," you blurt out, not even thinking properly due to the fear of death.

Both of you froze as you stare at each other, one with horror, and one with disgust.

"And why do you think I would believe that?," sneering, he starts to creep closer and closer.

"Because... That's the reason why I fell! How can I meet my husband if I'm in heaven and you're in hell? I was so eager to meet you that I turned myself into a fallen angel just to be with you!," you smile widely, desperately trying to convince him.

He raises an eyebrow at that, mulling over whether you're telling the truth or not. Even if you are lying it'll be good to have a fallen angel on his side, and it'll be quite hilarious seeing the expressions of the hotel staff reacting to you being his spouse.

"If I am your fated one, what's my name? Surely heaven must have given you my name at least?"

Oh Gabriel's trumpet he got you there. "Alastor...?," unsure, you gave out a random name. If you're wrong, hopefully he kills you quickly.

...

"Hm. Perhaps you truly are who you say you are. Forgive me for being quite rude earlier, it's unbecoming from your husband to be." Holy cow you are lucky. You breathe out, the nerves simmering.

"Come on then let's get you cleaned up! What kind of husband will I be if I don't provide for you my dear?," he grabs your hand and leads you somewhere. His shadow cleaning up all the blood and feathers in the alley.

Now that's out of the way... What the fuck did I do to become a fallen angel???

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #maybeeeee soon to be yandere alastor?

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blubunz · 2 months ago

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SUGAR & SPICE

— sugar daddy! bruce wayne x f! sugar baby! reader

《MINORS DNI!》

Tags: reader doesn't know bruce wayne is batman, overstimulation, fingering, praise kink, slight angst, daddy kink obvi, not a lot in here though.

A/N: Ough I don't think this is healthy at all um yeah that's all :] idk if this is angst though I put the tag there just in case. I have a different plot in mind though but I can't lead the story up to that I'm so upset. Maybe I'll do a part 2.

Honestly, Bruce isn't the type to maintain a long-lasting relationship. You should've learned that by now. Hell, one of his titles is The Playboy Millionaire! Or, billionaire. Millionaire is so last season.

Still, young and naive little girl you are, you chase after him. Sometimes, it reminds him of a puppy, always seeking his validation. You are always at every one of his event, dressed so nicely in your favorite colour, with that sparkly eyes and cute smile.

You're not his type, not exactly the one he's looking for to spend the rest of his life when he's skin and bones. You should've given up long ago, he's the type to tease, not to indulge.

He gives you one night, one night to satisfy your urges. You look so pathetic when he denies you, it melts his heart even if his moral is screaming at him not to. You're old enough, already an adult, sure. But he is too old for you, still. This will never work out for the two of you.

That night, he brings you to a lavish hotel, booked on the highest floor, the most luxurious one. Bruce is an absolute gentleman, of course he is, he's not acting like himself, he simply just wants you to stop, to make you realize after one night that he's not a good fit for you.

Bruce can see your anticipation, how your hips sway when you walk, or when he sits you down, your thighs are tightly closed against each other, practically rubbing yourself underneath your dress. He doesn't want to rush you, he even offers to get some food first or shower, but you insist.

Young people these days.

If that's what you want, then.

Bruce sighs, but he gives you a smile that melts your vulnerable heart. You jolt when he gently touches your thigh, and before he can ask you anything, you frantically nod.

“Sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself.” You stammer nervously, already sweating bullets. Fuck, you didn't expect yourself to react like this. You're mostly excited, but your body reacts the same when you're nervous too, of course you're sweating, but for good reasons.

“Don't worry, sweet girl. I live up to my reputation.” In actuality, he doesn't sleep around a lot. A few women, sure, but it doesn't go above five.

He's crazy good, though. His finger gently swipes up and down the front of your panties, feeling it getting wetter and wetter by the seconds. He's observing you close and slowly, and you feel yourself burning just from that alone.

Bruce leans down, pressing a small kiss on your cheek. “I'll put my fingers in, is that okay?”

You nod, breathing shakily when he plays with your pubes, then going past it to reach under. Big fingers gently touching your clit, down to your slick folds.

Your hips buck, and you grab his wrist tightly, trying to hump yourself on it.

“Calm down, I haven't put it in.” He laughs, voice low and rumbly in his chest when he can even feel your desperation seeping through his fingers. “I don't want to rush. Stay still for me, okay, baby?”

You nod, slowly loosening your grip, and Bruce pushes two fingers in your puffy cunt. His eyes closed, feeling your wet heat squeezing his fingers as if it's his cock. You're practically shaking, moaning and eyes rolling up already when he's knuckles deep in you. What would you do if it was his cock instead?

Luckily enough, he doesn't plan to fuck you tonight. He'll just fuck you with his fingers until you pass out and that's it, that should make you feel enough.

His mind sets on it quickly, pulling your panties off completely, he begins plunging his fingers in and out of your needy pussy, and you can feel the pads pressing and curling up against your walls, stretching you out so much, rubbing right against that spot.

You're drooling already, your head leaning on his shoulder as he pulls you to his lap to keep you from squirming so much.

“That's it, baby. Let it out, no one can hear you.” He assures, wriggling his fingers in your cunt as he palm grinds against your clit. Your back arches, thinking of how alone you are, how there's just the two of you in this lavished hotel room, on the top floor that has the nicest view of this gloomy city.

“Bruce!” You gasps, his free hand gripping your arm tightly, leaning in your neck to kiss it. It tickles, you thought, but you can't react to it because his fingers just push in you once more, curling so delicious you feel like you're above the clouds.

Bruce reminds every second that this is for you, not for shared enjoyments between two people. Just you. Just to give you satisfaction, enough to have you ignore him, hopefully.

“Good girl. Move your hips just like that.” He pants, feeling a bit riled up himself too. He can't help it, of course he can't. You're moaning and writhing so much, shaking under his grip, so vulnerable and weak, something he expects from someone like you, but it doesn't mean he's used to it. “Can you cum for me, baby? Are you going to cum on my fingers?”

The way he's talking to you is nothing you've heard before. Like he's coddling you, like you're his delicate little doll. You've heard him talked many times, composed and calm, he carries that persona like he's some old-fashioned rich man. But now he's acting like someone you'd call "daddy" as you cling tight to him, and him hugging you back, praising you and protecting you as you deserve to be.

You cum with a silent scream, jaw hanging open and head tilting back with your eyes following. You can't think. How can you just have the best orgasm just from his fingers alone?

“Good girl.” He smiles, that makes you feel warm inside. With a gentle kiss on your sweaty forehead, he drawls his fingers out slowly, feeling your inside convulsed and twitching, clinging tight to him when he pulls out completely.

You're dazed already, too dazed to notice the growing bulge between his thighs. No, Bruce won't fuck you with that. Instead, he resumes his action, pushing his fingers back in, having his name shakingly spelled out from your throat.

“Hmngh...B-Bruce, I-I just—”

“Shh, shh. Come on, surely you can handle one more, can't you, pretty girl?” He pulls your face up to look at him. He gives you that same smile that gives you butterflies, going down to kiss behind your ear. “One more, please?”

You can't deny him. No one can. And certainly he's just made you crave him more after tonight, after so much orgasm in one night. Who wouldn't?

#— barbwire writes #bruce wayne #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne x reader #batman #batman x reader #batman smut #female reader

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jiniretracha · 8 months ago

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ꕤ 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 '𝟐𝟒 - 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟖 ꕤ

Cha Eun Woo x fem!reader: lingerie use

summary: Nayeon, your best friend, had insisted you on buying a lingerie set for your boyfriend.

warnings: smut, lingerie, insecurities (?), unprotected sex, i just want a bf like him is that too much to ask?

word count: 1.5k

kinktober masterlist // masterlist // ko-fi

The shopping mall wasn’t something you frequented that much. You were more into online shopping and when you did actually go, you always went to the same shops. Plus, crowds weren’t really your thing. It annoyed you that people didn’t really know how to walk through aisles without bumping into you.

But there you were.

Nayeon, your best friend, had insisted you on going to the mall, blabbering about wanting to buy a new set of lingerie for her. She kept skipping through the different stores until she reached one of her liking.

“Tell me, isn’t this cute?” she asked, grabbing a creme baby doll dress and holding her up over her chest.

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah”

She huffed and left the baby doll back in its place. “You’ve said that about every single piece of clothing that I’ve shown you, Y/N” she pouted as she crossed her arms over her chest with a frown.

You chuckled. “I’m sorry, Na. I’m just a little bit tired” you sighed. “But I promise I like it, I think it’ll look amazing on you”

Nayeon then gasped and covered her mouth. “Holy shit, I know! We’ll have to get you one of these!” she squealed, clapping her hands together.

Your eyes widened. “Oh God, Nayeon. Please…”

“Oh come on! Don’t you wanna show Eunwoo how good you’d look in one of these? Because I’m telling you, that man is whipped as fuck for you. Would you imagine if he saw you in one of these?” Nayeon kept on insisting.

You grimaced and arched your eyebrows. “You’re sure these will look good on me?” you asked her.

Nayeon practically snorted at your insinuation. “Look good on you? Fuck no, you’ll look stellar, perfect, flawless in them” she smirked.

You let out a sigh and gave up. “Okay, help me choose one?”

── .✦

Nayeon left you at home with the baby doll set you purchased, in hopes that your boyfriend would like you in it.

You had already tried it on back at the store, but you felt like trying it on again.

You stared at yourself in the mirror dressed up in a light mint green coloured lace lingerie set, the bra cups pushed up your tits on your chest, practically spilling out. The panties were thin as freaking lines and they barely made an effort to cover up your crotch.

You chewed on your lip as your eyes danced all over your figure.

Your heart started slamming inside your ribcage when you heard the front door opening and a familiar sigh.

“Baby, I’m home” Your boyfriend called out from the living room. “Are you in the bedroom?” Eunwoo asked.

You snatched your robe from the closet and quickly threw it on, tying the knot quickly over your waist. “Y-yeah, I’m here!” you called back.

His comforting and very much needed presence filled the room. He instantly smiled at you and walked over to you, framing your face and kissing your lips. “I missed you” he whispered against your lips and you giggled.

“I missed you too” you whispered back.

“You just came out of the shower, hon?” he asked you, noticing that you were wearing a robe.

You looked down at what you were wearing and felt your cheeks reddening. “Uh- I- no. I just came back from the mall with Nayeon” you stammered.

“Oh, everything alright?” Eunwoo asked, his eyebrows furrowing in worry, noticing your discomfort in both your face and tone

God, you loved him so much. “Yeah, everything’s fine… I just- um…” you cleared your throat.

His eyes searched your face. “What?”

“I bought a lingerie set” you said. “For you…”

Eunwoo smiled. “Okay? Show me!” he said excitedly.

You bit your lip. “I’m just- I don’t know- I’m not sure if you’ll like it. It- I think it makes me look weird” you said, feeling the insecurities start to creep up on you.

He frowned. “How in the hell would you, the most beautiful woman to ever walk this earth, look bad or weird in a lingerie set, are you kidding me?” he asked, kind of offended you’d even insinuate that, even if he hadn’t seen you yet in it.

You chuckled with a cute blush painted on your cheeks. “Okay…” you said and your fingers went to untie your robe.

“Is it under this?” Eunwoo asked, and you almost laughed at how cute he looked with his eyes blown wide.

You nodded and quickly took the robe off, letting it fall to your feet.

He let out all the breath he was holding in a rush. “Fuck… baby. Do you even know how perfect you look right now?” he asked. And before you could reply, he grabbed your waist. “Turn around” Eunwoo said, and you clenched around nothing at how demanding he sounded.

You obeyed and turned around, biting your lip as his eyes wandered around your behind.

You yelped and jumped up when you felt a sharp sting on your ass, meaning your boyfriend had just spanked you. “Shit, babe, I’m hard as fuck” he said, and turned you around by your waist. “You feel it?” he asked you, grabbing your hand and placing it on his crotch.

You bit your lip as you felt his erection through his jeans.

“Do you even know how it makes me feel that this is the first thing I see after coming home from work?” he asked you, pulling you against his chest, your pelvis hitting with the hardness on his pants.

Eunwoo didn’t even let you answer, instead his lips silenced you in a kiss, inserting his tongue inside your mouth quickly, licking and sucking at your tongue.

You moaned against his lips and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer towards you.

He backed you against the closet door, your back hitting the wood. His hands went up to your chest, pawing at your breasts, gripping them and pushing them together.

Eunwoo bit your lip and tugged on it. His fingers toyed with the clasp that sat on your chest, and opened it slowly, leaving your nude torso on display for him.

He threw his shirt on the floor, feeling hot himself and his mouth immediately attached to your nipples, sucking on your skin, making you throw your head back in pleasure.

“Eunwoo…” you sighed, carding your fingers through his black hair and tugging on it.

“Fuck, and you thought I wasn’t gonna like this on you?” He said and then tugged your panties to the side, brushing his fingers over your wetness. “You’re so fucking soaked” he chuckled.

“Do something about it, please” you moaned.

“Oh, I will”

He knelt down on the ground and grabbed your leg, draping it over your shoulder. His fingers pushed the thong to the side and licked over your hole. Your head hit the wooden door as Eunwoo started playing with your clit with his tongue, flicking it.

“Shit, I’m gonna need you to sit on my cock” he groaned, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer to the bed.

Eunwoo was quick to throw his pants and underwear off his legs, his cock standing up and leaking over his stomach.

He grabbed your hips and made you sit down on his thighs. He pushed the thong to the side and grabbed the open lapels of your baby doll set to inch your chest closer to him.

You grabbed his dick and probed it on your entrance. The moment you sat down, you both moaned in unison, feeling his mushroom tip hit the spot as soon as he was buried to the hilt inside of you.

Eunwoo hooked his hands under your thighs and slammed you down on his cock, earning a high pitched whimper from you.

Your nails clawed at his back as he kept on slamming you down, keeping his bounces rhythmic.

“You like that, baby?” he asked you, his mouth coming to bite at your chest, licking and sucking at your nipples.

“Y-yeah” you nodded. “Shit, Eunwoo, don’t stop” you whined.

His mouth was busy so he could only groan and nod against your chest. He made a movement with his hips, thrusting even deeper inside of you that made you fall against his face.

Eunwoo moved so his nose was pressed against the crook of your neck, taking full advantage of the way you were fully slumped on him.

He rubbed at your clit, trying to get you to orgasm. “Are you close, honey?” he asked you.

You could only nod dumbly as only whimpers were only coming out of your mouth due to your brain that had turned into mush.

He felt your orgasm wash over his dick and he slammed once filled you up, feeling your body almost boneless on top of him.

He let himself drop on the bed on his back, with you on top of him.

“Babe, you okay?” he asked, his hand brushing down your back.

You nodded against his chest. “Better… than ever” you sighed.

He chuckled against your hairline and one of his hands came to scratch your scalp. “Do you believe me now that I find you insanely attractive with these shit on?” Oh you sure as fuck did now.

── .✦

taglist: @annhearttihaehe // @frequentlykit // @alexisfeliz // @jeonginsleftcheek // @yaorzu-blog // @jisunglyricist // @leeknowinggg // @ka0ila // @minghaosimp // @lixies-favorite-cookie // @yn-x-them // @chrizrizz // @madkati // @starzystay // @pancake-freckle // @velvetmoonlght //

i apologize if i can't tag u :(

#cha eun woo #eunwoo #eunwoo x reader #cha eunwoo x reader #eun woo x reader #cha eun woo x reader #eunwoo smut #cha eunwoo smut #cha eunwoo imagine #eunwoo imagine #astro eunwoo #astro imagine

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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 9 months ago

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Go Home - Charles Leclerc

What. A. Fucking. Day.

You were running around the Ferrari hospitality, with practically no energy after being up all night. The fact that you had even made it into work was an absolute miracle, but you thought that doing something with yourself might help you take your mind off of how you were feeling.

It was safe to say that it didn't. If anything, it just made it worse. Your body felt more fatigued the more you moved, and plenty of people had noticed. They all asked if you were feeling OK, and you always responded with a meek 'yeah, yeah, just feeling a little under the weather.'

One of the many people to notice this was Charles. He had seen that you weren't your usual, perky self, and that concerned him slightly. After seeing you around for a few hours, not getting noticeably better, Charles took it upon himself to approach you.

You had just walked out of Fred's office after delivering some papers, and he was stood in the corridor, seemingly waiting to go in. "Hey Charles," you greeted, sending him a small yet weak smile. You didn't want him to be the next person to ask how you were feeling, but you could sense it coming anyway.

"Hey, you OK? You're not looking too good..." he sheepishly said, not wanting to upset you, but still wanting to show that he cared about your current condition.

"Oh thanks, Charles," you rolled your eyes, walking away from him. Instantly, you felt bad that you had reacted like that, knowing he was just trying to be nice and knowing that your attitude was uncalled for.

But, you really weren't feeling like making kind smalltalk with someone. You weren't in any mood to turn around and apologise either, so you just figured you would say sorry to him when you were feeling better.

Shortly after, you heard footsteps behind you in the corridor. Charles knew you didn't mean it and it was just because you were feeling shitty, so he didn't take it to heart. If anything, it made him even more worried for you and whether you should actually be at work or not.

"Y/N, hey, no, wait," he called after you, speeding up so he could catch up to you. "You really don't look too good, are you sure you don't need anything? I've got some extra time if you want some help with some stuff." he said, hoping that you'd allow him to take some of the load off of you so that you could relax for a bit.

"No, no," you declined, thinking that he had something better to be doing with his time. He was just as busy as you were, if not more. Plus, you didn't want to give him whatever it was you had just in case it would hinder his racing ability.

"Are you sure? I really don't mind, it'd be-" he started, but you cut him off with a sigh.

"Charles, I've got it, OK? I do appreciate the offer, really, but you're just as busy as I am." you interjected, turning around and walking off from him again. Charles huffed to himself, unsure of what to do.

He was certain that you running around and working yourself to the bone wasn't what was going to help your illness, but he also knew that you were stubborn as a mule and it'd take a hell of a lot of convincing to get you to change your mind.

For the time being, he resigned himself to the fact that you were going to carry on working. He'd keep an eye on you for the rest of the day, and if you got any worse, he would simply have to force you to go home.

An hour or so later, Charles spotted you in the cafeteria, pushing your food around your plate with your fork. His heart dropped slightly as he saw your face. You had paled in colour, your nose and cheeks contrasting against your skin as they were as red as your polo that you had on.

He leant against the wall with his arms crossed for a short while, his eyes glued on you. Your shoulders were hunched, one of your arms wrapped around your stomach. He spotted the subconscious, self-soothing gesture, and his hard expression softened.

You really didn't look good, not at all. Definitely not good enough to be staying at work and slaving away for the rest of the day. Slowly, Charles stepped towards your table, the other people around knowing that it'd take a miracle to convince you to chill it out.

"Hey, can I sit?" he quietly said, gesturing to one of the chairs at your otherwise empty table. You craned your neck to look up at him, leaning back and taking your arm away from your stomach.

"Yeah, course," you nodded, watching as he pulled out the chair next to you and sat down on it. With one elbow on the table, Charles rested his chin on his hand.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, the question obviously leading. It was with an expectant answer, an answer consisting of you telling him how horrendous you felt and how you needed to go home.

However, you replied with a simple, "I'm fine." Charles groaned, running a hand through his chocolate locks.

"You're not fine, OK? Look at you, you look dead on your feet," he said, frustration seeping through his words. He never understood why you were always so stubborn, especially when it came to your own wellbeing.

Going home was clearly the best option for you and your health, but you refused to just give up your pride and perfect work-attendance record and go home. "I'm just feeling a bit rough, it's nothing serious," you tried to reassure him, knowing he wasn't going to back down on the matter easily.

"Nothing serious? You're pale as a ghost, you clearly have 0 energy, and it is just obvious that you feel absolutely awful!" he snapped, unable to keep his temper in check. He wasn't snapping out of anger, and you knew that.

He was snapping out of pure consideration for you and comfort. Deep down, he knew that you were hurting and in no condition to be there, but that didn't stop his temperament from clocking out for a moment.

He saw the dejected look on your face, the softness creeping back into his features. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." he trailed off, unsure of what to say. Getting mad at you wouldn't make you listen to him, he knew that, but he still wanted to try and convince you.

"Please, just go back to the hotel. I'm worried about you, you know?" Charles said, hoping that by revealing his feelings, it might incline you to listen to him. "I'll make sure all of your work is done, I promise. You won't have to worry about a thing."

"But I've got so much to do, and I don't want to force someone else to work that I can-"

"No, don't tell me you can do it. You can't do it. And I won't let you," Charles cut you off, squeezing your hand. "I'll take you back, make sure you're comfy, and I will have it all taken care of." he repeated.

For once, you were actually considering doing what he said. Your body was crying out for you just to retire to your bed for the remainder of the day and just rest. Sleep off the sickness and come back to work your usual self.

There was the problem of your work, but you truly did trust that Charles would have it taken care of. He wasn't the kind of guy to make promises that he couldn't keep, and he would make sure your work got done on time and as it was supposed to be done.

He took your silence as a yes, since you'd usually give him attitude if you were refusing his requests. He hated seeing you like this: tired, sick and downright dejected. A small part of him was screaming at him to just wrap you up in his arms and take care of you until you were back to your usual self.

In some ways, you being like this hurt him too. He didn't like it when you pushed yourself this far and risked your own health and wellbeing just for the sake of a job. Yes, he did admire it, but his dislike for it heavily out-weighed his recognition of the trait.

"When was the last time you ate something? And don't bother lying to me," he sternly asked, and you knew it wasn't time to try and fool him with a clearly false answer.

"Yesterday. Well, more specifically, last night." you quietly told him, his eyes searching your face for any hint of deception. Yet, he found nothing but sincerity, and the pointed look in his eyes mellowed out once again.

"And what did you have?"

"Just some soup and crackers from room service," you told him, and the sigh he let out was audible and slightly disappointed.

"Jesus Christ... you're running on fumes," he mumbled, "How much did you sleep last night?" Charles asked, even though he could tell it wasn't much from your sluggish posture and dark under eye circles.

"I can't tell you how much exactly but it wasn't much at all," you told him, now actually looking forward to going to bed for the rest of the day.

"Come on, we're going. I will sort everything," he reassured, standing from his seat and offering a hand out to you. You took his hand, letting him help you up. Charles felt a small pang of satisfaction ripple through him when you allowed him to assist you.

Silently, he led you out of the paddock and to the parking lot, where he navigated you over to his car and sat you down in it. You were slightly worried about getting fired for just randomly leaving, but if Charles asked Fred, pretty much anything was possible.

The car ride was wordless while he manoeuvred through the streets, until he pulled up in a spare parking space near the hotel. Charles helped you out of the car and all the way up to your room.

Now that he was close up to you, he saw how gaunt your expression was. He really didn't want to just leave you here to fend for yourself, since he didn't think you had the strength or energy to do so properly.

"Can I come in with you?" he asked once you had reached the door to your room. You nodded, unlocking the door and gesturing him inside. To say that you had been in such a state, the room was in fairly good order.

You hadn't made the bed, which was understandable given how bad your morning must have been, but the rest of the room was relatively clean. "You sit, I'll get you something to change into," he told you, walking up to the wardrobe.

Opening it, it was mostly just your teamwear since you were only there for work and wouldn't have the time for much tourism. Rifling through your clothes, he found a soft pair of shorts and one of your Ferrari hoodies that he thought looked comfy enough.

Turning around, he saw you already shuffled under the covers and sinking into the pillows. "You comfy?" he smiled, the sight of you lead there making his heart beat a little quicker. He really didn't want to leave you here - he wanted to stay by your side where he could make sure you were OK.

"Arms up," he softly said, helping you to sit up. "Can I?" he requested, asking for your permission as his hands hovered over the buttons of your polo. You nodded, and he quickly unbuttoned them and pulled the shirt off over your head.

If he wasn't focused on how sick you were, he would be practically salivating at how stunning you were, but now wasn't the time for that, and he understood. You were vulnerable, and he would be pretty damn pissed with himself if he allowed himself to think like that.

Pulling the hoodie on over your body, he reached a hand around your neck to pull your ponytail out. "I'll let you do those yourself," he gently chuckled, placing the shorts next to you and facing away from you around to give you some privacy.

Charles heard the sound of a zipper and the rustling of fabric, finally followed by the sound of you shimmying back under the covers. "Do you need anything else?" he asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed next to you.

"No, no, I should be good," you told him, and Charles wasn't buying it for a second. It was at that point where the part of him that was compelling him to stay by your side and take care of you, protect you, love you won out.

"You do realise that I'm not going anywhere?"

"Charles, no, you're busy and-"

"Sweetheart, no. You need me, they'll be able to do it, I'm sure," he told you, and when you didn't argue back, he really grew concerned. Even when you were sick, you were normally able to bite back and give him some sass back.

The fact that you had just accepted your fate worried him, even if he was relieved that he wouldn't have to try and convince you again. "I'll get you a water and some medicine, and then I'll sit here for the rest of the day or until you get better. Whichever happens first," he told you.

Charles didn't miss the small smile that tugged at the corners of your lips, and he was glad that he could bring a bit of brightness to your day. Disappearing into the bathroom, he filled up a glass with water and rummaged around in the cabinets for some paracetamol.

"Now you're going to take these, and then you're going to sit back and rest and let me dote on you." he said with a slightly teasing tone, handing you the two small, white pills and watched as you popped them into your mouth before lifting the glass of water to your lips and encouraging you to take a sip.

Once you had drank around half of the glass, Charles left it on the bedside table. "I want you to try and get some sleep, OK?" he said.

"Yeah, sure," you agreed, snuggling down into the covers. He hated having you just lie there when he felt that you needed his physical support as well as his emotional support. Just getting to hold you would surely make you feel better, and him too.

"Hey sweetheart?"

"Yeah? You OK?" you asked, and he couldn't help but grin. Even when you were feeling horrendous, you were still making sure he was OK.

"I'm fine, yeah. Can I just... can I hold you? Or hug you? Or anything? I just feel so useless," he mumbled, instantly feeling like an idiot. But, before he could get ahead of himself, you responded.

"Be my guest," you told him. Charles moved under the covers and then next to you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, gently tugging you towards him to that you could rest your head on his chest.

You could hear the steady pound of his heartbeat, and it was a very soothing sound. Charles let out a sigh of contentment, glad that he was able to provide some semblance of comfort. He felt your weight against him as you relaxed, meaning he was doing his job right.

Despite you feeling no where near 100%, he was glad that he could be the person who you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with and the person that would take care of you. You trusted him, and that was more than enough.

Plus, he'd be happy with cuddles anyday, whether you were sick or not.

A/N - Hey loves! Hoping you're all doing well! I do have a little thing for the 5 year anniversary of Charles' 2019 Monza win, but it is nothing special. It is just a lil ol' something that I whipped up. Not really a story, but hey. It'll do. Have a wonderful day/night!💖

|masterlist|

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captain-huggy-bear · 1 month ago

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so cool!!! that you have 1000 followers!!! congratulations 🎊 👏 💐 🥳 you deserve it for sure. can i please request "red's definitely your color" with jack hughes please?

The instant I got sent this I had an idea for it! Thank you! I'm really thankful and I hope you enjoy this little prompt :) NSFW Themes - Jack thinks your hot/Jack's a horny bastard. Jack does lift you, but in my head boy's strong and knows to lift with his knees. 1000 Followers Celly Currently ongoing 🥳🎉 (please read the rules) Big requests/full fic/big idea requests are closed at the moment but drabble and prompt requests are still open. Writing Masterlist

You don't go to the rink together, an early game means it's easier for Jack to leave for morning skate and stay gone. He kisses you goodbye while you're still curled up in bed, snuggled into the blankets and wrapped around his pillow. This early start of Jack's means he doesn't get to see you before the game, his usual fashion show a missing component of his day and he hates it.

He's always loved sitting on the couch as you strut out in whatever game day fit you'd put together, watching you spin for him and show it off, all proud. He's always loved the way you glow when he compliments you, not that you need his compliments, but God, he loves that you get a boost from them. It's almost a superstition for him now...he feels wrong without it.

He doesn't even get a glimpse of you during the game either, too focused on the game and unable to take the time to look for you in the stands. The game seems to drag like he's walking through molasses as he waits for his first sight of you all day.

He's even more abrupt than normal during post game media, trying to answer the stupid questions quickly so he can change and see you. It takes longer than Jack would have liked, but God, it's worth it when he gets his first glimpse of you

You're stood outside the locker room in his red home jersey, it's large on him without all his padding underneath but on you it swallows your hands, your fingertips hidden underneath the length of the fabric. A reminder that he's taller than you, arms longer, hands larger. You've matched the red of the jersey with your lipstick, with the laces in the boots you wear, a queen of co-ordination. You always wear some form of red to his games, but God, it's like Jack's forgotten how good you look in red. How the colour makes your skin glow, makes your eyes pop and your lips seem plumper. One look at you is enough to wind him. How the hell did he get so lucky?

Your smile lights up your entire face when you see him, happiness at being in his presence as he almost stalks towards you, eyes heavy lidded and wanting because he wants you. Always, but like this? 86 on your arms, on your back, his name branded across the fabric? Yeah, this is almost his favourite look on you, second to no clothes at all.

The wolf whistle he lets out has you looking away with an embarrassed smile, but your eyes glitter as you let him take you in.

"Red's definitely your colour, baby..." Jack bites his lip as his gaze rakes down your body, from the devil horns in your hair, to the red of your lips, down the jersey until he meets the toe of your boots, "Spin for me?"

You do, despite the people around, despite the awareness of others. You do because Jack always wants a spin for your outfits and you can't deny him, not when he's looking at you like you're the best thing he's ever seen.

The spin sucker punches him: the cute way you hold your hands out to the side, sleeves too long for your arms; his name across your back like a brand, the glimpse of a hickey he'd sucked into the back of your thigh, the bashful smile as you roll your eyes at him.

It has him bridging the distance between the two of you not really thinking about anyone around as his hands find your ass to pull you against him, lips pressing to yours like if he doesn't he might actually die. It's a little desperate on his end, sloppy, messy. On yours? You're laughing into the kiss at how badly he wants you, at the fact you can see Timo waggling his eyebrows behind Jack's shoulder, still your hands find his hair like they were meant to be there.

He gasps for air when he pulls away from you like he's never breathed a day in his life, grin goofy, eyes lidded, cheeks bright pink.

"Can I take you home now, please?"

"Mmm, I don't know...I wanted to say hi to Nico," You tease him because the little furrow in his brow is cute, because you think it's funny and it is, until you're upended and over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Jack!" You don't miss the way he's careful to tug his jersey so you're decent, to make sure you're ass is covered even as he starts to walk towards the parking garage with you over his shoulder.

Jack doesn't respond so you find Timo's eye again, "Timo! Help, I'm being kidnapped!"

The large man just holds his hands up and shrugs, as if to say 'what do you want me to do?'. Even as you bounce away protesting, you can't help the laugh on your voice, the smile on your face...even when you know there's at least one picture of it on a camera roll somewhere.

#Huggy's 1000 celly #huggy bear writes #jack hughes/reader #jack hughes x reader #nhl imagine #nhl x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months ago

Text

Days of Yore

Warnings: some dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Summary: You show up uninvited but are welcomed nonetheless.

Character: Geralt of Rivia

Day Twenty-Five of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt -an unexpected guest at the holiday get together.

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“Wow,” you gape up at the immaculate array of lights strung across the facade. “This place is amazing. Who’s house is this?”

“A friend of a friend’s, I don’t know,” Wendy shrugs.

“A friend... Oh? Are you sure it’s okay we’re here?” You wonder with a furrow between your brows. You now feel a bit foolish for getting all done up when you might not even have been invited.

“Open invite! Besides, no one will notice,” she assures you.

“Right,” you mutter doubtfully.

“Loosen up. What else do you got going on, huh?” She grabs your hand and pulls you through the open iron gates. They accentuate the medieval effect of the house. Now you don’t feel done up enough.

“Not much, I guess,” you admit. If anything, you’ll get a bit of free food then ditch. It's not the first time you’ve unintentionally party-crashed with your wayward friend.

“You know Sienna, it will be fine,” she tuts and comes up to the front doors.

Again, you’re awed by the aesthetic of it all. You notice that the lights aren’t coloured, but only white, and the decor doesn’t bear the typical Santa or candy cane theme. In fact, it all has a historic tint. Traditional in a strange way. Dried oranges hung on long strings and holly twisted into bunches. For a moment, you’re remind of that dusty history degree hidden in the back of your closet.

Wendy knocks with the heavy iron knocker. She waits and chatters as she wiggles her legs below her short skirt. She didn’t dress for the temperature. She searches the door frame and grumbles.

“You think someone who could afford this place would have a doorcam or something,” she chuffs out a cloud of steam.

The door opens and startles you both. You look over as Wendy as good as jumps inside. She seizes the woman who keeps a hand on the door.

“Kami! You look... nice,” she holds her and gives her an eye up and down, “is this velvet?” She drags her hands down the green fabric.

“Designer,” Kami pushes away her touch. “You brought a friend.”

“Yeah, Sienna said so--”

“Mm, sure, it’s just... whatever. No one will notice,” Kami rolls her eyes. “You have to come. Lucas has the funniest story! I was just dying.”

Your shoulders fall and you clasp your hands together. You trail after, unwelcome and unacknowledged. Uninvited. You frown and silently configure how you can excuse yourself and leave. If you wait long enough, Wendy will forget about you. It might be easier to sneak out.

You stop to hang your coat with all the rest and Kami makes a point of telling you to take your boots off. The floors are old wood, polished and well-kept. The entire house is immaculate. An antique on its own.

You follow them into a high-ceilinged room adorned in strings of threaded popcorn and dried clusters of flowers. The air is fragrant as mulled cider steams in a heated bowl on a table, copper cups waiting to be filled, and dishes of appetizers in a line. The smell makes your stomach churn hungrily.

“Who the hell owns this place?” Wendy asks the question nibbling on your ears.

“Oh, he’s a funny guy,” Kami chuckles. “A bit... eccentric. Sienna’s been trying to loosen him up a bit, I mean... look at this house. That’s a good bag.”

You try not to show your disapproval. You don’t have much luck with men but hearing the way some of your friends talk about them, you don’t know that you’re cut out for it all. It really doesn’t seem that anyone is out for a genuine connection, they just want a good set-up.

Can you really blame them? You’ve been handwashing your clothes since your building hiked up the machine prices. Turns out a couple quarters can really break the bank.

Your guilt compounds as you realise that you’ve cosigned this entire extortionate affair. This party seems to have been a ploy by a hopeful prize winner. You know Sienna and she’s always sure to show you her Fenti and point out the label, though she can never remember the name of the man who bought it.

“So what? He gave her full run to do all this? It's not really her... style. I expected more pink,” Wendy scoffs.

“Nope, he’s a tight ass apparently. They were up for nights making the decorations and the food.”

“What?” She squeals in surprises as your whispers from your mouth. That’s a lot of work.

“Very old-fashioned,” Kami remarks. “But he’s not just rich you know, he’s fucking hot.”

“Ah, jackpot,” Wendy giggles.

You keep behind them, as good as hiding behind them. You bob and clutch your purse as Lucas excitedly hugs Wendy and Sienna drunkenly echoes him. You know a few of the partygoers standing with them but none of them even look in your direction. It seems Wendy’s already forgotten you.

This is why you said no at first. This is how it always goes but she begged and begged, guilting you fro making her show up alone. What about you? Why is it okay to ditch you every time?

You glance around. There are just as many strangers and none of them seem eager to mingle past their trio or pairing. You wish Wendy mentioned the dress code. You don’t think your H&M clearance rack attire is very suiting.

As an elbow hits your arm, you back up. No apology. You’re a piece of decor to these people. You back up and turn. Well, no one else seems to want to indulge. What a weird party.

You go to the table and take a cup. It’s times like these that you enjoy being invisible. College was tough, you longed to be noticed, to be like the other girls. Since then, you’ve grown comfortable with just being there. It’s much safer.

You ladle the cider into a mug and the steam roils from the top. A slice of blood orange and a few cranberries float in the rich amber liquid. You blow over it and retreat. The warmth is a comfort. It makes you feel a little less out-of-place.

As you turn, you nearly collide with another. You bring your other hand up to steady the cup and barely keep from sloshing the cider all over. You squeak and step back on your heel, your eyes skimming up the large figure in front of you.

You haven’t seen eyes like those since...

“Geralt?” You utter dumbly.

He looks down at you. He looks different but not. He always had his own vibe. The white hair, the bright eyes, he wore his individuality without meaning too. Yet some things are his own doing.

When you were in Early Modern History or Medieval Weaponry and Warfare together, he always dressed as if the clocks were set back to the Victorian era. Stiff jackets, high collared shirts, even a pocket watch. He was a bit of a dweeb then but too big for anyone to say so. And he was the only person who wanted to talk about history outside the lectures.

Now he wears a tunic, silver trim on black, slightly less stuffy but just as dated. Half of his hair is twisted back behind his head, the tails of it spilling past his shoulders.

He says your name and tilts his head, “I didn’t invite you.”

It’s a statement that makes your heart sink. You peer down at your cup then around the room. “I’m sorry, my friend, she knows Sienna, she--”

“It’s good to see you,” he interrupts. “It’s been a very long time.”

You wince and dare to look at him again. “Yes, college was a while ago.” You slanted your lips and press your hands to the hot metal cup. “This is your house? It’s very nice.”

“It is. I don’t often entertain, so mind the cobwebs,” he intones. He still has that way of speaking; so matter-of-fact. “It wasn’t my idea.”

“Mm, right,” you nod.

“Is the cider good? I found the recipe in an old journal from 1764.”

“Of course you did,” you hold back a laugh.

“Of course...” he begins to repeat curiously.

“It’s all very you, is all,” you say.

“I suppose,” he agrees.

You smile shakily and swallow. You make yourself try the cider. It’s hot but not scalding. A very spiced. Not in a bad way, you just don’t expect that much.

“Mm, it’s... heady.”

“Mulled for days,” he explains. He shifts on his feet and smooths his tunic. “Can I show you something?”

“Um, sure,” you accept. “It’s not the door, is it?”

He lets out a small snort, “leave the cider.”

You peer around and he takes the cup from you. He puts it down on a leather coaster on a tall wooden table and beckons you after him. You peek back as you sense a hush and notice that Sienna and the rest of them are watching. Great, they already don’t care much for you.

Geralt stops and waits for you to catch up to him. The staircase is wide enough for both of you. Your ascent is quiet, almost torturously so.

“You did not bring a boyfriend?” He asks.

You nearly laugh at the abrupt question. You get to the top of the stairs and he gestures you left.

“Well, I’d bring my cat. He’s the only guy sleeping in my bed,” you kid.

He hums but doesn’t comment.

“So, how’d you meet Sienna?” You ask.

He shrugs and stops to open a door. He pushes it inward and reaches around the frame to turn on the lights. He waits for you to enter first. You do with a gasp at the interior.

The walls are hung with various weaponry and you can tell at a glance that it’s genuine. It’s like walking into a museum. You traipse forward as you stare and barely notice the door click shut.

“Wow, how—Geralt, how the heck—what do you do? I mean, how can you afford all this?”

“I make replicas for TV and stage productions,” he explains. “This is my personal collection.”

“It’s... wow,” you hug yourself, feeling even smaller than before.

He’s quiet again. That’s just how he’s always been. He never said more than he needed to. It made studying very easy.

“You asked about Sienna. She is persistent but we are older now. I don’t see her as viable,” he says. Again, just a fact, nothing emotional.

“Oh, uh, well, I heard otherwise. Maybe you should tell her that,” you chuckle nervously as you admire the executioner’s sword with its blunt tip.

“Perhaps,” he agrees as he slowly crosses the room to stand next to you. “I’m... pleased that you showed up. It is a coincidence, isn’t it?”

“Sure, must be,” you agree.

You keep your eyes on the groove in the blade as you feel his on you. You sidle along and turn your head away from him. The door is shut. He stays close.

“Here,” he steps around you, startling you.

You spin as he goes to a large wooden chest on a table. “The smaller things are in here. Thumb screws, some daggers...” he flips open the lid as you turn and follow, keeping your distance. He holds up a curved blade, possibly a jambiya. “Hm, come,” he waves you around as he reaches in again, “you’ll like this one.”

You sway before you move, hands clasped to each other. You slowly pace around to him and he moves so quickly you nearly stagger. In a moment, there’s a weight around your wrists. You cry out and raise your manacled arms.

“Geralt!” You exclaim.

He laughs. You don’t hear that often. You look at him and tug on the chain.

“Centuries old but they are strong still, yes?”

You frown, “please, it’s not funny. I don’t like it.”

“Aren’t they wonderful?”

“No, Geralt, please, take them off.”

“Hm, I’d have to find the key...”

“Don’t play,” you warn.

His laughter trickles off and his face returns to its stoic mask. He stares at you. Silence rises and roils around you as the chain clinks in the loops of the cuffs and you fidget. You wait for him to pull out the key and undo them.

Instead, he hooks a thick finger around the links and tugs until your arms are above you. He holds you like that, trapped and prone. You shudder as you stare up at him, terrified at the glint in his pale eyes.

“I’m not playing,” he intones. “I’ve been waiting to get you in those. Far too long.”

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt x reader #the witcher #december daze #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #navy and roo's sleepover

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tenjikufag · 10 months ago

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Blue lock, Isagi, mutual pining and fluff ending with smut?

Love-Sick

Yoichi Isagi x Male Reader

-mutual pining, oblivious dorks, fluff, smut ending (no penetration), teammate!reader,

-thank you for the request! I am definitely projecting when it comes to the practice part, sports are hard. -ex athlete

Yoichi Isagi.

The male stood beside you, squirting water into the side of his mouth. You were kneeling down and tying your cleats, being sure to tighten the laces snugly

“Flashy cleats you got there.”

He laughed lightly, looking down at the colourful sports shoes with bright laces. You only hummed, gazing up at him as you stood up and adjusted your jersey.

“Yeah, gotta get noticed some way.”

“Don’t think your skills are enough? I think they are.”

He was being truthful, he admired your skills and your work ethic- you were so particular about how you practiced that even walking on the field was a no go for you, he would watch you as your brisk jog across the field entertained him in-between drills.

You had been someone he’d wanted to catch up to ever since he met you, in every aspect of life. You were smart, you were sociable, you were good-looking, and at the very heart of his admiration you were athletic and determined.

Everything he could ever want in a partner, really. And god did he want you to be his, he could never imagine himself settling for someone that wasn’t you- and that’s what it would be! Who is content with settling when what he wants is right there?

But, that was the problem. You were right there, and yet he couldn’t stake a claim on you.

Stretching his arms over his head, he shook out his limbs before following behind you to join practice.

He stood in line behind the others on the team, watching as you demonstrated the drill as the coach instructed- he couldn’t help but focus on the way your body would flex the muscles in your legs with every sharp step and turn around the spaced out fluorescent cones. Along with the rest of the team, a low grumble of understanding was heard as you jogged to the back of the line with him, his half focus on the next in line but the other half was on you and how you caught your breathe.

“Those cleats makin’ you any flashier?”

“Ugh, I wish. Did you see me almost clip my ankle up there?”

You said in a hushed voice, in hopes to not get yelled at for talking. Really, he didn’t notice. It looked so smooth when you did it, in contrast to the teammates infront of him looking almost rigid trying to remember the sequence of steps and strides.

He was next up.

And his mind blanked, maybe he should have been paying attention to the actual drill and not just how you looked.

“Yoichi! Come on, get moving!”

The coach called out, noticing his stalling. The boy nodded, trying his best to remember the sequence- he’d give it his all even if he got it wrong just to try and impress you and not look dumb..

“What the hell are you doing?! Back of the line!”

He cringed, plopping down his foot heavily as he walked to the back of the line…

It was going to be a long practice.

By the end of it, everyone was panting heavily and hunched over their knees trying to catch their breathe.. you were still happily talking away between breathes to your other teammate.. isagi squinted, watching as the other boy seemingly blushed at whatever you had said.

In truth, you were both talking about your crushes- your teammates on a girl classmate of his and yours on Isagi, no one really cared if they knew you liked guys but Isagi didn’t know. Not yet, at-least.

You had liked him for quite some time, playing with him for atleast a couple of years and knowing eachother outside of soccer only made this crush harder to let go of, the love and adoration you felt for him only growing day by day. Hell, probably even minute by minute if you really gave it thought.

“Dude, you should just ask!”

“What if it doesn’t go well? What if I get rejected?”

Isagi perked up, the dispersion of bodies making your voice more clear in his ears. His heart couldn’t help but beat faster, he’s gotta know!

“Rejected? Who would reject you?”

You felt yourself pale, your teammate almost busting at the seams trying to contain his laughter.

“Hey! Quit laughin’!”

With a solid shove, you sent the laughing boy to the ground where he only continued laughing at the cliché predicament.

“C’mon Y/n! Tell ‘im!”

Isagi crossed his arms, pouting.

“Yeah, tell me! I am your friend!”

You looked over at him with wide eyes, jaw almost slack with surprise..

You couldn’t tell him! Not here atleast, you were both sweaty and gross- and you didn’t even have an idea of what to say!

“Whatever, my ride is probably here- I’ll leave you to it.”

Your teammate laid his hand on your shoulder, mumbling something Isagi couldn’t hear but it made you blush and drag your hand down your face.

“Anyways, you wanna stop by the convenience store with me? I’ll tell ya on the way.”

Isagi nodded, following you to the benches to grab your bags and switch out of your cleats.

“God, do you ever wash that thing ‘sagi?”

You grimaced watching him put on a familiar pull over hoodie. It smelt faintly of old sweat and obviously doused in whatever cologne he used.

“It’s my practice hoodie.”

“I can smell that!”

He laughed, pouncing on you with a hug to tease you with the smell. You pretended to gag, pleading for him to let you go.

“Let’s go! I want some Gatorade and chips!”

The two of you walked side by side in a comfortable silence, the typical routine after practice was just this then you’d take off in opposite directions on most days but since it was the weekend and there was no practice tomorrow- sometimes you’d go over to one of your houses.

Isagi was hoping you’d stay the night at his place, his family wasn’t home and the two of you would have the whole space to yourselves.

“So who’s the one that’s gonna reject you?”

Curiously, he glanced over at you and saw you flinch- the bag of chips crinkling in your hand.

“You remembered that?”

Scratching the back of your neck, you sighed and mumbled a “in a bit.” And he left it at that, both of you paying for your snacks and stuffing them in your bags.

The two of you stepped out of the convenience store, you already half-way done drinking what you’d bought.

“Alright, I’ll tell ya but I gotta ask you somethin’ first.”

Isagi nodded, his eyes big with curiosity and hope.

“How do you feel about me liking guys?”

“It’s a guy?”

“Yep.”

You popped the ending vowel, looking at passing cars while swirling the half full drink around the bottle.

“That weird you out?”

“Oh, uh. No, I may like guys too- but no I don’t have any problem-“

“Cool. When we get to the stop light I’ll tell you then.”

The stop-light was where the two of you would typically separate and it was roughly a block away.. he wanted so badly to question further but you kept quiet. Your brows were tightly knit together in thought.

If he could hear it, your heart would sound like the biggest drum in the world being played- you were almost worried about it. Isagi wasn’t any better but he hid it a lot better.. he thought maybe you were just shy about the whole thing.. when you said you liked guys something in him leapt for joy, he had a chance if you actually got rejected!

He’s methodical, he would swoop in to make you feel better then maybe he would be able to swoon you enough to be his. It really was a foolproof plan in his mind.

It went quiet, no cars, no people, the walk signal red to halt pedestrians. It felt like his heart would stop with everything too.

“You sure you wanna know, Isagi?”

He nodded deliberately, clutching the straps to his bag tightly in his hands. You smiled, looking up at the timer.

10,

“It’s you, Isagi.”

Your bright smile stretched across your lips, your feet taking you towards your house.. he stood in place, trying to comprehend what had just really happened.

You like him back?

For how long?!

He could have been already dating you?!

Even if it felt like he took years, he was quick to grip your wrist and pull you back to him. You initially wanted to pull away, afraid he was going to berate you but when you saw his shy smile.. you knew he had something else in mind.

“Come over to mine?”

—

You laid pinned to his bed, the familiar scent of him on his sheets and the leeching energy of need filling your heads.

He sat ontop of you, kissing you like you would disappear if he stopped; gasping for air in-between every kiss but never daring to pull away. Drool clung to the corner of your mouthes, the kisses wet and sensual while he swerved and circled his hips against yours in need of some type of friction.

“You.. need… to stop..”

He only moved to grind on you more, now moaning into your mouth. Your tongues prodded against each other, he was clearly inexperienced as were you but it was a chance to learn how to love, how to love each other in an intimate way.

With your hands messily running through his hair, he finally pulled away with a gasp- breathing just as hard, if not harder, than at practice. The once pale skin was flushed a bright pink, his eyes glazed over with what you could only see as arousal.

“Woah, I don’t.. think we should go that far. Not yet..”

His hands were already fumbling at the hem of your shorts, his big eyes looking at you, begging to atleast see and touch it.

“Please?”

Running your hand through his thick black hair, you sighed and nodded lightly- hands quick to pull down your shorts to your knees. His eyes widened a fraction, never seeing anyone’s but his own dick.. with a lick on his lips he lowered his face down to really inspect it.

“I’ve never seen anyone else’s..”

What? With the way he was so quick to undress your bottom half you had imagined he’d.. done it before?

“Really?! Are you sure you want to do this now?”

With a determined nod, he took your member into his hand- it was warm and he liked the way it pulsed and got firm in his grasp.

“Have you done this before?”

“Uh, yeah. A couple times but-“

He sneered, a pang a jealousy coursing through him at the thought of someone else having seen you like this before.. and he shut you up before you could tell him anymore.

“I’m going to be better than them.”

The confidence in his voice made a chuckle reverb through you, hand petting his head in reassurance.

“I’m sure you will.”

“And I’ll be your last, the victor. The best..”

As much as you wanted to laugh, a light hiss of satisfaction ran through you first- his tongue taking an exploring lick up your shaft and flicking your tip.

He experimented, running his tongue around your dick and making notes of which part elicited a reaction from you. Coming off your tip with a pop, he gave a long, slow, lick up the bottom side before taking the plunge and shoving you into his mouth- his tongue licking against the sensitive spots.

“Fuck!”

Bucking your hips, he gagged at the sensation of you in the back of his throat. He wanted to come off, catch his breathe and relieve the momentary nausea from the action but he kept himself suctioned to you.. remembering the porn he’s watched throughout the years and the random sex talks among his more horny counterparts as he tried breathing through his nose.

It made a word of a difference and his eyes widened, pleased with his research paying off before he began bobbing his head up and down.

“‘Sagi.. I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer..”

He hummed, big blue eyes looking up at you.. he wanted a taste. It was his first time after all.. and he’d heard it could be addicting to swallow your partners load, he didn’t know what to expect but he hoped it was nice..

“I don’t think… you’re gonna like it..”

You warned, lightly tugging at his hair to lead him off. He swatted away your hand, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance- he wanted it and he’s gonna have it.

You fairly warned him, it wasn’t but seconds later that you twitched in his mouth and unloaded deeply in the back of his throat.

He gasped, gagged, and choked, the load being far bigger than he expected but he tried his best to actually taste it before it went down his throat. He popped off, your soft dick now laying against your stomach.

He frowned, you sat up and began apologizing but he sat up and licked his lips

“I didn’t get to taste it properly..”

Your mouth gaped open, he was deadly serious. With a hard blush, you covered your face

“You can’t be serious..”

Sighing, you seamlessly switched positions with him- he was too deep in his thoughts to comprehend that you’d pulled down his shorts, only refocusing when he felt a hand jerk his cock a little bit.

“What’re you doing?”

“You don’t think I’m gonna let you sit around hard all night do you?”

With a deadpan face, you kissed his tip. He flinched, the unfamiliar sensation making his abdomen burn instantly.

“I’ve never…! Gotten a blowjob! Hah, fuck!”

You already had almost all of him in your mouth, he was perplexed at the sight of his dick poking out the side of your cheek. He was embarrassed, admittedly but the roll of your playful eyes eased the anxious tension he held.

When you pulled off momentarily, you spat on him and jerked him slowly.

“Just sit back and relax, I don’t bite. Not here, at-least.”

With a smirk, you took him in your mouth and connected your eyes with his- he intently watched how you followed your mouth with your hand, making sure every inch of him was taken care of and touched. He moaned loudly, head thrown back at the wet and warm tongue that swirled around the head of his dick.

Without warning, he came. And he came a lot.

You too, swallowed his load but didn’t choke or gag like he did. He looked down at you briefly, one eye shut as he tried to refocus on you.. that was the most intense orgasm he’d ever experienced and the biggest load he’s ever produced.

He felt a slight jealousy in him again; who else got to experience that with you before him?! Who taught you, how many dicks have you sucked before he got to you? It was envy, really.

Smiling up at him, you crawled up and hugged him- leaving a soft peck on his cheek.

“So..”

He looked up at you, eyebrows furrowed.

“We boyfriends or what?”

He looked at you, almost offended.

“I would like to be your husband but yeah, boyfriends, husband later.”

You both blushed at what he said, he went to correct his blunt, but truthful statement but you shut him up by squeezing him tightly in a hug.

He felt.. happy. A new kind of happy, it was warm and fulfilling. He was almost mad that you didn’t confess, or more so he didn’t say anything, alot sooner.

#bllk x male reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x male reader #blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi x male reader #isagi x male reader #isagi x reader #Yoichi isagi x male reader #Yoichi isagi x reader

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arc-misadventures · 5 months ago

Text

Care to Share a Drink?

Jaune Arc was walking back from the training halls tired from another grueling training regime. Since becoming a, Specialist, Jaune had taken several courses to broaden his expertise; both in functioning, and technical training.

It was good to widen his expertise as a, Specialist, and he may be taking in all this new information like a sponge, but a sponge can only absorb so much in before it starts to leak out.

Now, Jaune was tired. He needed to relax, and just destress himself for all the worries that weighed him down. He was having a day off tomorrow, maybe he could...

: Hey, Jaune!

Jaune: Hmm...?

Jaune turned around to see the ever smiling, Clover Ebi approaching him.

Jaune: Oh, hey, Clover. What's up?

Clover: Just wanted to ask if you wanted to go out for a drink?

Jaune: A drink?

Clover: Yeah, there's this bar I like to go to, I thought you would enjoy some male bounding. I would have invited you sooner, but we were so busy with everything. Besides, you look like you need someplace to relax for a bit.

Jaune: Oh, is anyone joining us?

Clover: Naww... I asked everyone else; Marrow, can't hold a drink for the life of him. Vine is a tea nut. Elm, likes those fruity drinks, the bar we're going to doesn't have those. Harriet said she was busy doing some paperwork with, Winter. And, Winter... Ya know.

Jaune: I know, Clover, I know.

Jaune: Sure... I wouldn't mind having a drink with you.

Clover: Alright then, let's go!

Jaune: Do they have any good bar food there? I'm starving.

~~~

Clover: So here we are, Jaune! The Squeaky Cog! Best bar in all of, Mantle!

Jaune: I thought we would be going to a bar in, Atlas, not one in, Mantle.

Clover: Nahh, there are plenty of decent bars in, Atlas. But, this place... it has a more homely feel to it, feels more lived in then the bars in, Atlas which feel sterile.

Jaune: Ahh, a by product of the whole, Colour Wars, eh?

Clover: Yeah, pretty much. Now come on, let's get a drink!

The pair walked over to the bar, and took a seat. Jaune grabbed the menu, and gave it a quick glance, finding a item he wouldn't mind eating. The barkeeper shortly came to them, and asked if they wanted anything.

Clover: I'll have a beer, and the chili fries.

Jaune: I'll have the... fish and chips, and a scotch on the rocks.

The bartender took their orders before walking away, as he left, Jaune busied himself with a bowl of pretzels.

Clover: A scotch on the rocks? I didn't take you for the type.

Jaune: A simple beer, thought you had more class.

Clover: I tend to have whisky after a reward for a rough day, for this a simple beer will do.

Jaune: I'd take a vodka myself if I wanted something simple. But, it's been a while since I had a drink, so I'll take a scotch.

Jaune thanked the barkeeper when he brought them their drinks. He swirled his drink watching the ice cube move about his drink. He took a sip letting out a satisfying breath of air as he did.

Jaune: That's smooth... I was told by some of the locals while I was walking about, Mantle that Mantilian Scotch is really good; That's a hell of an understatement.

Clover: Really? Maybe I should try it, and maybe you can try a beer too.

Jaune: Actual piss has more flavour in it than that piss in a bottle.

Clover laughed at, Jaune's little jab, he looked at, Jaune a serious look crossing his face.

Clover: Uhh... listen, Jaune...

Jaune: Is this where you ask me questions about my relationship with, Winter, or are we going to talk about you, and Harriet instead?

Clover stopped in his tracks, looking dumbfounded at, Jaune who just gave him an inquisitive eyebrow in return.

Jaune: Well?

Clover closed his mouth before giving, Jaune an amazed, yet scared look.

Clover: Again, you notice way too much, and it's scary how much you do.

Jaune laughed as he spun the ice cup around in his drink.

Jaune: Relax, Clover. I've been expecting you to ask me about you two since I caught you making your way to the, Ever Light Hotel~!

Clover: Hey! Keep it quiet about... the hotel!

Jaune gave another light laugh before taking another sip of his drink.

Jaune: Okay, Clover; Let's play a little game then shall we?

Clover: What kind of game?

Jaune: I ask you a question about you, and Harriet. Then you ask me a question about me, and Winter. You game.

Clover: Okay. I'm game... You first.

Jaune: Oh good, because I've been wondering for weeks now; How the hell did you two get together?

Clover: Ahh... Well... before you joined us, the Specialist, we already had six members... But, we lost one, his name was, Tortuga.

Jaune: Tortuga... I remember hearing, Harriet saying that name... She said, 'I was good, but I wasn't anything compared to, Tortuga.' Is that why, Harriet hates me? Because, I'm some sort of replacement of this, Tortuga fellow?

Clover: Kinda. Harriet, and Tortuga always had this older brother, younger sister dynamic to them. So when, Tortuga died, Harriet lost her 'big brother.' She didn't take it well...

Jaune: I can understand that. I have seven older sisters... I can barely handle the thought of losing one of them...

Clover: Well as it's my job as team leader to help my teammates. So, I talked with her, consoled her, and was just there for her when she needed it. A shoulder to cry on, a face to scream at. A friend.

Clover: Then one day, the whole team went here to relax, and have a drink, and while the rest of the team slowly went home one after another, bunch of light weights the lot of them! Harriet, and I stayed there getting absolutely waisted... Then...

Jaune: You woke up in each others arms in an uncompromising position?

Clover: Uhh... ahh.. yeah... that's pretty much it...

Jaune laughed at, Clovers face as it was flushed red from embarrassment.

Clover: There was some awkwardness between the two of us. But, we managed to work it out, and we've been dating in secret for about two months now.

Jaune: Why in secret; is there something against, Specialist dating each other?

Clover: No, there isn't any rule. We just don't want the others to know, I mean if, Elm finds out about us, we'll never hear the end of it!

The pair shared a short laugh that ended when the bartender brought them their meals. The duo thanked the bartender before they went back to their conversation.

Clover: Okay, it's my turn... How the hell did you get together with, Winter freaking Schnee? I mean... I've know, Winter for years, but she never struck me as the type who would be interested in dating anyone. Much less you.

Jaune: Rude...

Jaune nonchalantly replied while enjoying the fries on his fish, and chips. He quite liked the mixed spices they were using.

Clover: I don't mean to be rude, It's just... you seem so... so simple.

Jaune: I guess that's what she likes about me.

Clover: You guess?

Jaune: I don't know, or really understand why they like me. I was just being myself with them; honest, open, being an absolute dork... Honestly, I haven't the faintest clue how those two fell for me. I've flirted with woman before, and I was absolute trash! Like what the fuck was I thinking?!

Clover: Everyone was an idiot when it comes to flirting.

Clover commented this as he was shoveling his chili froes into his mouth.

Jaune: That was a year ago...

Clover: Pfft?!

Clover soon developed into a small coughing fit, before grabbing his beer, and chugging it down.

Clover: (Cough, cough, cough!) Serious, you went to being a loser who couldn't flirt with a girl for the life of them, to having, Winter Schnee fawning all over you?!

Jaune: Yeah, I don't understand it either...

Jaune dipped his fish into the hollandaise sauce, marveling at how nice it tasted. He also flagged down the bartender over to get, Clover another beer.

Jaune: Honestly if feel like I'm just standing there, and some hot girl looks at me like: "Haha! What's a dork!"

Jaune: "I must have him for my own."

Clover: Seriously?

Jaune: It's happened at least four times, two in the past two weeks... Okay, my turn: What's up with, Harriet?

Clover: What do you mean?

Jaune: Harriet's been looking a little queasy lately... Did any... definitions of 'lucky' happen?

Clover: Huw...?!

Clover dropped his fork in shock at the implications at, Jaune's honest question.

Clover: ...?!

Jaune: Well?

Clover: No! N-N-Nothing like that at all! She's just sick from bad fish, I swear! We had it checked! She's not pregnant!

Jaune: Then you better keep using those condoms, or birth control. I don't think you two want that to happen... Yet?

Clover: Well... I wouldn't mind it happening eventually... but, there's too much going on right now...

Jaune: Well, regardless of what happens, I wish you two the best of luck! Not from just your semblance.

Jaune raised his drink in the air before, Clover raised his in the air for a salute. Jaune then finished his drink, asking the barkeeper for another.

Clover: My turn?

Jaune nodded as he finished the last remnants of his meal.

Clover: Okay... When I asked you about you, and Winter. You kept saying, 'they:' Why?

Jaune: Ahh... I'm not gonna lie to you, Clover... but, I'm stuck within a love triangle between two woman.

Clover: You're... in love triangle...?

Jaune: Yep.

Clover: Seriously?

Jaune: Yep!

Jaune gave, Clover a dead serious look as he answered him. Popping the, P to emphasize his point.

Clover: How...?!

Jaune: I don't understand how these things happen to me either.

Clover: Between who?

Jaune: Winter Schnee, and Robyn Hill...

Clover: Robyn Hill?! She's into you? Again, how?

Jaune: Not sure. My best bet is that I was honest with her. Robyn's semblance lets her decern truth from lies. I can only guess what she went through to have a semblance such as that. But, I think saving her from a psycho faunas certainly helped.

Clover: Being the literal white knight saving the damsel...? Yeah, I bet that helped.

Jaune: Now the two of them have given me tokens of affection, and I have no idea what to do...

Clover: The sash, and that falcon pin?

Jaune: Lucky guess.

The pair shared a laugh before continuing their stories.

Jaune: Now the worst part is, is that they both know the other likes me, and they've both stacked their 'claims' on me. I'm literally stuck between two badass huntresses who could beat my ass, who are more than willing to fight each other tooth, and nail to get me! I have no idea how to navigate any of this!! And, worse of all: It's fucking hot that I have two beautiful, wonderful woman fighting over me!

Clover: Do you know which one you want to be with?

Jaune: I don't know... They're both among the greatest, and most beautiful people I've ever met! And, as much as I've enjoyed their rather, forceful kiss's. I want to be the one to steal their breath away with a kiss. But, I have no experience when it comes to the affairs of the heart, so I haven't got a damn clue on what to do... And, it's as you said, there is too much going on right now to worry about such things...

Clover: But, if you had to choose: Who would you pick?

Jaune shrugged his shoulders before looking at, Clover.

Jaune: Both?

Clover snorted as he smacked, Jaune on his shoulder before slapping a pile of credits on the bar top after finishing he second beer.

Clover: It's on me. Now come on, let's back to base.

Jaune finished his scotch before getting up, and following, Clover out of the bar.

Jaune: This was nice. Thanks for inviting me, Clover. We should do this again. Only this time, drinks are on me.

Clover: Looking forward to it.

#rwby #jaune arc #clover ebi #harriet bree #vine zeki #marrow amin #elm ederne #winter schnne #robyn hiil #jaune x winter #winter x jaune #robyn x jaune #jaune x robyn #rwby winterknight #rwby sherwood knight

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clairecrive · 7 months ago

Text

"Gorgeous and Untouchable" Eddie Munson x reader

A/n: thank you so much for requesting this lovely <3 this is definitely on the longer side but tbh I don't think it's that good. hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2.2+K

TW: tiny bit of angst, longing, unrequited love, fluffy end.

MY MASTERLIST

"You've ruined my life-"

Now this was new.

Eddie Munson, reigning freak of Hawkins High, was used to being avoided by most. On account of some stupid reason such as him being a devil worshipper and the likes.

Never had he thought to have enough influence or social presence to actually ruin someone's life. Unless they were trying to put their bad luck on him which... shouldn't surprise him at all.

Oh, to have such power...

He scoffed immediately losing himself to a daydream reality in which he actually had magic powers. Now that was a thought!

As he went to slam his locker door close, another piece of paper caught his eye.

What now?

"by not being mine." Read this one.

What?

Putting the two pieces of paper together he saw that it had been torn apart but it was actually the same piece of paper originally. So the complete message was "You've ruined my life by not being mine."

Rolling his eyes he closed his locker, now sure that it was just someone taking the piss out of him. Chuckling he threw the two pieces of paper in the trash without sparing them a second thought.

Little did he know, someone was watching him in that moment who, alas, didn't mean it as a joke at all.

"Oh well," they thought without losing spirit, "tomorrow we'll try again."

And try again they did. Every day, they would leave two little messages in Eddie's locker. One was to be found when he arrived at school and the other at the end of the day.

After the first two, which Eddie blatantly dismissed, he actually kept the rest of them. So, one day, after almost a week had gone by in this weird fashion, Eddie sat down in his room and put all the pieces together.

Tongue peeking out in concentration, Eddie rearranged them in chronological order. This proved more difficult than he thought because the messages weren't dated, of course, and they got all mixed up in the box where he had stored them.

After a while of playing Sherlock Holmes, he thought he got it. It added up to something like this:

You're so gorgeous I can't say anything to your face 'Cause look at your face And I'm so furious At you for making me feel this way But what can I say? You're gorgeous

He thought for a moment that he had made a mistake. He must have. Maybe they didn't have to be put in chronological order to be deciphered. Maybe there was another code he needed to figure out.

And so he tried to find one. For hours.

At one point he had to give up. Eddie plopped down on his bed. A frustrated scoff left him when he thought how much time he had wasted on this stupid thing.

Someone was messing with him. They must be.

The idea that those pieces of paper held a confession for him, never crossed his mind. It was unfathomable for Eddie to think that someone at school might actually think he was gorgeous. All he could think about was who the hell hated him so much to pull a prank this elaborate.

The next time Eddie went to school, he was hesitant to open his locker. Last time it was only some pieces of paper, but what if, with time, his pranker had grown bolder? Who knows what he was going to find this time.

When he finally did, though, he'd found that he needn't be scary. Eddie sighed in relief as yet another piece of paper fell to the ground by his feet.

This time, the paper had a distinct flowery scent to it. Eddie knew nothing of perfumes, let alone women's ones. But it was nice, he thought as he sniffed it again. He liked it. The other thing that was different this time, was the colour of the message. It was lilac and it read:

I'm caught up in you Untouchable, burning brighter than the sun and when you're close I feel like coming undone

Turns out that his secret admirer had become bolder indeed. Just not in the way Eddie expected. "Untouchable"? Him? People tended to stay away from him either because they believed the devil-worshipper rumours or not to taint their social standing. So he was having a hard time imagining someone coming undone in his presence.

Still not fully convinced this was genuine, Eddie shoved the piece of paper in his jeans as the bell rang.

Yet again, you watched as he walked away none the wiser of your presence. You knew that it was going to be hard to get Eddie to notice you. Even this way. However, you couldn't help but feel frustrated and helpless. You thought the perfume had been too much but a part of you hoped it'd be enough for Eddie to connect the dots.

"Not yet, I guess", you thought as you made your way to your class as well. I need to get even bolder.

You usually weren't this insistent. In fact, it wasn't really in your nature. Maybe that was why Eddie was having such a hard time connecting the dots and linking the pieces of paper back to you.

You had known him for a while now. Since the first year of high school. Well, your first year. Eddie had been in his first senior year. You had seen him in the cafeteria one day at lunch, doing one of his usual spectacles. Before that day you had only heard his name being whispered like a bad word amongst the other students.

Being new to the area, you didn't really understand what that was all about. Who was this Eddie? And why was he so famous that everyone knew him but at the same time, no one had actually talked to him?

Then you began to understand little by little. As the days passed you seemed to gather a lot of information about the guy, albeit against your will. It's just that everyone seemed to talk about him.

He honestly didn't seem that bad to you. You thought he was cute and quite endearing. He seemed to have strong opinions and a defined personality, which you admired. Maybe that was why people at school were so reticent about him. He stood out wherever he was and not for the reason people evilly whispered between them.

You were already halfway there but when you saw him interact with the younger kids one day, you were definitely gone. The crush turned more into an adoration with time.

And even though you had talked to him a few times, you had never tried to shoot your shot. Not until now, at least. You were tired of always dreaming about him and what it'd be like to be with him. For the first time in your life, you were adamant about turning your dreams into reality. You only needed to get the guy.

And in the middle of the night when I'm in this dream It's like a million little stars spelling out your name In the middle of the night waking from this dream I want to feel you by my side, standing next to me

This time, you had really put yourself out there. You didn't think you could be more obvious than this. Not only did you write the message with your favourite lilac pen, and spray a little bit of your perfume on the piece of paper, you also left a kiss on it. A glossy pink imprint of your mouth.

It was your favourite lipgloss. You wore it every day.

You only hoped that Eddie would notice. Otherwise, you had to take an even more drastic approach. One you dreaded. You had to go and talk to him. Ugh! Only thinking about it made you nauseous.

Little did you know, you didn't need to worry. It was going to end sooner than you thought.

You were at school bright and early as usual that day. The official excuse was that you needed to sort out something for the school paper. But really, you needed to slip the piece of paper into Eddie's locker without anyone seeing you.

That morning, however, you weren't the only one at school at that hour. Usually, Eddie was one of the last to show up. Often, at the last bell or late. However, the principal had called him to tell him that if he kept showing up late he wouldn't have permission to host Hellfire. Hence why he was one of the first ones to show up that day.

Whistling some random tune, Eddie was carelessly rolling through the hallways and about to turn to his locker when he spotted you. His whistling immediately stopped and he spoke without thinking.

"Y/n?"

His voice startled you so much that you flinched and almost slipped your foot retreating from the locker.

"Oh, h-hi Eddie!" you squeaked as you turned to face him.

"What..." he trailed as he took you in.

"Oh, uhm," you stumbled over your words trying to come up with something to say.

He was still looking at you with a questioning gaze. Standing so close to his locker and visibly nervous... Still, he didn't think anything of it. He was just curious to know why you were here.

That was until a piece of paper floated on the ground in between you and him. Both of your eyes were immediately drawn to it.

"Fuck", you silently swore to yourself. The piece of paper you trying to push inside his locker must have gotten stuck and then got loose exposing you to him at last.

You swallowed nervously and stepped back, almost as if you were trying to make a run for it. But this was the moment you had been waiting for! Stop being a coward and talk to him! you chided yourself as you forced your feet to stay put.

In the meantime, Eddie was still putting the pieces together. His eyes were looking between you and the piece of paper on the ground. Then his locker.

The paper. You. His locker. Then you again.

"God," you thought, "how slow can this boy be?!"

"It's me," you blurted out after a while, unable to bear this uncomfortable situation any longer. "I'm your secret admirer," you whispered when his eyes shot up to you.

"You?" he said, voice filled with disbelief.

You winced at the tone of his voice, assuming the worst.

"Surprise," you exclaimed weekly trying to laugh it off. Emphasis on trying.

But Eddie was yet to say anything and was only staring at you dumbfounded. So, you started to blabber nervously to fill the silence.

"I'm sorry if I wasn't who you were expecting. I-"

"Are you kidding me?"

"No, I-"

"I didn't think you'd be this cruel."

"What?"

"I always thought you were cool but to pull a prank like this...," hell Eddie thought you were more than cool actually. "It's not funny, you know."

A prank?

"Wha- Hold on," you called after him when you saw he was about to leave. "Wait. What do you mean a prank? This is not a prank."

"Yeah, sure," he scoffed, "and you really think I'm- what was it- gorgeous and all that shit?"

"Well, yeah," you admitted shyly. "I've had a crush on you for a while, Eddie." You toyed with your feet, too embarrassed to look at him.

"Then why haven't you said anything before?" he asked still sceptical.

"It's not easy to go to the person you like and tell them, you know," you scoffed as if what he was insinuating was preposterous. Even though it actually wasn't...

"So you left these in my locker instead," he said pointing to the piece of paper that was still on the ground.

You scrolled your shoulders at that, not sure what to say. Hearing it out loud made you feel foolish.

"You know what?" you spoke suddenly, "Never mind. It was a stupid idea, anyway." You were about to turn around and leave without waiting for his reply.

"Wait, no"- he called after you making you stop. "It's not stupid. It's very romantic actually."

"You think so?" You said tentatively as you turned around to face him.

"Yeah," he gave you a boyish grin. "You liked me for a while, huh?"

"Now who's being cruel?" you quipped blushing furiously.

"Nah, it's just that- I'm kicking myself for not asking you on out a date before," he admitted, scratching his head nervously.

"You like me too?" you smiled at him, hope blooming in your chest.

"I'm not blind sweetheart. I've had a soft spot for you for a while now. I thought you knew."

Hearts beating a thousand miles per hour, you could only give him a lovesick smile. You couldn't believe it.

Finally, your dream was coming true.

"So what do you say, sweetheart," he took a step closer to you, " will you bless my Friday and let me take you for a date?"

Giggling like a fool, you could only nod at him. Which earned you the biggest smile you had ever seen on Eddie's face.

"You have no idea how long I've been dying to hear those words."

"Trust me, lovely, I think I do."

Turns out you were both two lovesick idiots.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #taylor swift inspired #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x y/n

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