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nereidprinc3ss · 17 days

Text

come on home

in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid

inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers

wc 2857

warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending

a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3

She hung up on you.

Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better.

Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either.

You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.

So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.

What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring.

“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there.

“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?”

Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows.

“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?”

“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.”

You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside.

“Nice, nice. What else?”

“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.”

“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening.

“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.”

A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself.

“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.”

“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.”

When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice.

“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”

You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.”

“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice.

“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.”

Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better.

“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.”

Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry.

“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.”

“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless.

“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.”

Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart.

“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.”

Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again.

“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle.

Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life.

“Then I’m on my way.”

Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.

After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime.

You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.

“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?”

You shake your head and gasp a small sob.

Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders.

His hand smooths over the back of your hair.

“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.”

You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.

Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear.

“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.”

“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight.

“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?”

“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.”

There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.”

You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea.

Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave.

“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.

At least, until he goes home.

Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up.

“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.

“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you.

“That among other things.”

“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?”

The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does.

“Okay.”

It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

His lips pull into a melancholy smile.

“Anytime.”

There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.

But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close.

“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist.

“I can’t do that, honey.”

“Why not?”

His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently.

“Because we’re not together anymore.”

“Why not?”

Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is.

Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down.

“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.”

In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.

“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.”

He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke.

“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.”

You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again.

“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.”

Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales.

“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.”

When he kisses you, it feels like home.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

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stvharrngton · 4 months

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hii! i don’t really request things but i was thinking about something with steve and i had to share it

dilf steve.

imagine if he’s dropping off your kid at daycare or something and he keeps getting hit on by other moms, and gets invited to a party and obviously he brings us along

and he keeps getting hit on at the party and we’re jealous the whole time and very touchy with steve 🤭

i love this idea i just hope i did it justice 😭

pairing: dad!steve x mom!reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: none really, some flirty behaviour, kissing

requests are open!

“Dad?”

“Yes, baby?” Steve asked, eyes darting to the rear view mirror to get a glance of his daughter strapped safely into her car seat in the back.

“Where’s Mommy?” your inquisitive and curious baby girl, Ivy, asked. Her tiny hands fiddling with the straps of her car seat.

“Mom works early, remember, bug? So Dad takes you to daycare.” Steve said with a chuckle as he pulled the car into the parking lot of the daycare.

After setting the car in park and unstrapping your daughter from her seat, he scooped her up in his arms, spinning her round before settling her on his hip. She giggled wildly and it was music to Steve’s ears every single time.

“You all set for school, baby?” Steve asked, hiking up her backpack that was slung over his shoulder. He was about to set her down so she could run off and play before he was approached by one of the other moms.

“Oh, Mr. Harrington!” Ms. Burkley, Phoebe’s Mom chimed sweetly, waving her manicured hand around frantically to catch his attention.

Steve pursed his lips together in a polite smile, thinking of nothing worse than engaging in this conversation right now. Ms. Burkley was part of a group of Moms at the daycare that took a particular shine to Steve. Flirted with him at every opportunity they got, despite the ring that so obviously sat on his finger.

“Oh, hey, Ms. Burkley.” Steve replied, nevertheless, offering a wave and a polite smile, your daughter still clutching at his side.

“Please, it’s Amanda, how many times have I told you!” she joked, playfully slapping him on the shoulder. Too many times, Steve thought as his eyes glanced to where the woman’s hand had just been.

It was almost as if they sniffed him out one by one. As soon as one of them had seen him arrive at daycare, the rest of them sensed he had arrived. One by one the group became larger, the Moms surrounding Steve, each and every one shamelessly flirting with the man.

One of the older ones piped up, Steve thought her name was Karen or Kelly maybe, “Oh, Steve,” she chirped, “we’re having a get together at my house on Friday. You should come! We’d all love to see you there but leave the little one with a sitter.”

Steve raised an eyebrow in suspicion, his head turning to glance at your daughter who was babbling to herself and something or other. Karen, or Kelly, handed Steve a small piece of paper which he assumed was some sort of invitation with her street address on it.

“Right, thanks,” Steve murmured, shoving the card in his jacket pocket, “well, I better get going, ladies. Best get Ivy into her teacher. Say bye, honey.” Steve urged her but she wouldn’t budge, still clinging onto Steve’s side for dear life.

The day soon rolled to a close and you and Steve were getting ready for bed. Steve heard you click the light off in your en-suite, rubbing the last of your moisturiser into your skin, Steve already settled in your soft bed.

“Hey, honey?” he called out to you, his thumb rubbing over the piece of paper he was given earlier, “You’ll never guess what happened to me today.”

You appeared through the threshold as you made your way to your side of the bed, “What’s that, babe?”

“I got invited to a party,” he smirked as he handed you the makeshift invitation.

“Did you go to pick up girls whilst Ivy was in school?” you teased, your eyes scanning over the name and address on the paper, written in pink cursive.

“Oh, come on, baby,” he cooed, scooting up closer to you, “you know there’s no one else for me.”

You couldn’t help but giggle as you felt his arms wrap around your waist, his lips smattering kisses over any skin he could find. His fingertips digging into the skin beneath your pyjamas. You whisper-shouted for him to stop between your fit of laughter, careful not to wake your sleeping daughter.

“Is this from one of those Moms at the daycare?” you asked, reading the swirly pink writing on the paper once more. Steve nodded.

Steve had told you previously about the flirty Moms at Ivy’s daycare, how they’d oggle him up and down, laugh at anything he said, even if it wasn’t funny. You laughed it off, but this seemed a little odd. It caught you off guard.

“Are you gonna go?” you asked, voice quiet as you set the invite on the side table next to your bed.

“We’re gonna go,” Steve insisted, “so I can show off my pretty wife.”

You were by no way insecure in your relationship, in your marriage, with Steve. You knew he worshipped the ground you walked on, you knew he didn’t have eyes for anyone else. But you couldn’t lie, the thought of rubbing their faces in it did sound kind of fun.

Friday soon rolled around, you dropped Ivy off at Robin’s and made your way to the address that was written on the paper. You stood side by side with your arms linked as you rang the doorbell, Steve with a six pack in hand and you with a plate of muffins you’d baked.

Kelly or Karen answered the door, a huge grin on her face when she saw Steve. Her gaze panned to you and the smile softened, you could see the confusion behind her eyes that he didn’t come alone.

“Steve!” she chirped all shrill like, “I’m so glad you made it.” She reached a hand out to clutch at his bicep before taking the six pack from his arm. “And who’s this?” she asked, her gaze casting towards you once more, her perfectly painted red lips pursing together.

Steve began to speak before you interjected, extending your hand for her to shake, “Oh, I’m Steve’s wife.” You answered matter-of-factly, a smug smile on your face.

The party seemed to be in full swing, as boring as it may be. Steve kept getting carted off, dragged from pillar to post, by someone different each time it seemed. To look at a classic car stored away in the garage, or old basketball trophies that Steve didn’t really care about. So you nursed the same glass of wine you’d had for the past hour, accompanied by one of the other Moms from the daycare you actually knew well.

You were mid conversation, laughing casually at something someone said when you caught a glance of Steve to your side in the kitchen. The lady whose house this was, you still didn’t know her name and frankly, you didn’t care to either, was leaning over the kitchen island in her low cut dress with everything on show. They were talking about something, you had no idea what, but she had a look in her eye and kept twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. You all but lost it when she moved from around the counter, her hand on Steve’s bicep once more but her other on his chest this time.

“Excuse me.” You mumbled, smiling to your company politely. You watched as you got closer, how Steve tried to back up step by step, to shirk himself away from her touch, his shoulders tense. He soon faltered when he felt your hand smooth across his back, your fingers travelling downwards until your hand was snuggly in the back pocket of his Levi’s.

“Oh, hey, honey!” Steve exclaimed, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. He slung his arm over your shoulder, beer bottle in hand, pulling you closer.

“Hey, handsome,” you purred, your fingers reaching up to his chin, tickling the light scruff that resided there before they settled on his cheek, pulling him in for a slightly over the top kiss. Steve smirked against your lips, knowing exactly what you were doing. You licked your lips when you pulled away, a glint in your eye, “oh, sorry,” you chuckled, “am I interrupting something?”

“Not at all,” Steve hummed. You both cast your eyes to the poor disgruntled woman standing on the other side of Steve, a scowl on her face as she sulked in her pretty red dress. She stormed off and you both sniggered in her wake.

“Can we go outside? I need some air.” You entwined your fingers with Steve’s larger ones, pulling him outside through the already open patio doors.

The spring air was cool on your skin, Steve noticing the chill that shivered through you, immediately shedding his jacket and draping it over your shoulders. “You okay?” Steve murmured, fingers stroking at your cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair back behind your ear.

“Peachy,” you hummed. Big doe eyes blinking up at your husband before you peered back inside of the house, catching a glimpse of the famous group of flirty Moms.

“You’re not– you’re not jealous, are you?” Steve posed, holding your face in his large hands so softly, chuckling in disbelief. “Oh, honey,” he cooed, “you know you have nothing to be jealous about, I’m yours.”

“I know,” you shrugged, hooking your arms around Steve’s neck as his moved to your waist, pulling you flush against his body, “but I still don’t like it.”

A pretty little pout formed on your lips, your eyes still wandering inside of the house to see if they were still watching. Steve turned to where your gaze was focused, noticing the other ladies watching your every move, rolling their eyes in tandem. Steve sighed, his eyes falling back on you.

“C’mere,” he whispered, pulling you into him. Steve brushed his lips against yours softly, your lips fitting together perfectly. You melted into the kiss, momentarily forgetting where you were, stood in some stranger’s backyard, making out with your husband. Steve licked into you all pretty, sighing into your lips, “Y’know, Robin still has Ivy for a couple hours… Wanna get outta here?”

You felt the heat creep up on your cheeks at his suggestion, pondering it over in your mind. “Actually, can we stay for a little longer?” you asked, your finger drawing shapes across his firm chest, “Making them jealous is kinda fun. You could have me sit on your lap in front of them all whilst I laugh hysterically at all your bad jokes, Stevie.”

Steve feigned offence, his eyebrows raised in shock as his hair shook with the sudden takeback. “You’re saying you don’t really find my jokes funny? Well, honey, I’m offended.” “Oh, shut up, Harrington.” you giggled, swatting at his chest, “Let’s go back inside, then you can take me home.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #dad!steve harrington #k.fic #request #cherripieee #asks

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phfenomena · 4 months

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❝watching the world from the sidelines.❞ || tom blyth x actress!reader

| request - what about sidelines by phoebe bridgers with tom? i feel like that could be really cute. thank you!

| A/N - i love phoebe so much i can't believe i didn't think of this.

| WARNINGS - eating, heat, tom being a cutie patootie, a m*n serenading you, cringey fluff and an overuse of lyrics,

i'm not afraid of anything at all. not dying in a fire, not being broke again.

your head was lying comfortably on the pillow that you call your boyfriend. he was currently reading 'call me by your name' to you and you hung up to every syllable that slipped past his lips. his eyes transfixed on the page while yours were wandering across his face, memorizing every feature you loved so dearly.

"why are you looking at me like that?" his voice didn't even register as his until you saw him look down at you. "like what?" you retort back to him, playing the innocent role. "like you're obsessed with me or something." he teasingly says as he smiles at you. you turn your head away from his and towards the trees and people walking in the park. "i can't even look at you right now, i'm ignoring you." you reply holding your hand up in the air blocking his view of you.

he chuckles and pushes your hand down. "you're so dramatic" he whispers while passing his hand over your hair, smoothing it out. you smile softly and soak in the moment.

had nothing to prove til' you came into my life. gave me something to lose.

"can you believe rachel chose us to dogsit lenny? i feel so honored." tom says as the dog tugs on the leash, clearly giving tom some trouble. you stifle your laugh at the dog pulling him across the sidewalk.

your sat on your sofa with lenny tucked gently in your arms as you both watch the movie you put on. well you're watching the movie, he's staring at tom on the other side of the sofa typing emails. you look from the dog to tom, and then back to lenny. "i'm getting the vibe that he isn't your biggest fan, tom. he's literally looking at you like you killed his family." you manage to squeeze out in between laughs.

i'm not afraid of getting older. used to fetishize myself now i'm talking to my house plants.

the watering can felt heavy in your hand as you watered the collection of flowers and herbs you grew indoors. “you’re looking so pretty these days.” you whispered to your basil plant. “you’re gonna make my tomato soup so good.” the praises to your plants kept pouring out as you watered them. tom leaned the kitchen doorway and watched you talk to your plants. these small moments remind him in all the way he loves you, and you just make him laugh.

not of being alone in a room full of people, watching the world from the sidelines.

you loved watching tom being in his element, and this was it. a movie premiere where he’s being bombarded with questions and interviews. you’ll stand off to the side and watch him answer the same question for the hundredth time, and it’ll never get old. on the rare occasion someone would ask you something, you’d just look to tom in hopes he’d answer for you. he’s telling the interviewer his favorite snack to have on set, but you’re looking at him as if he’s explaining the secrets of the universe.

your hand is wrapped around his bicep as you walk together and he’s telling you the easter eggs hidden in the movie. you nod and smile but haven’t heard a single thing he’s said, he’s just so adorable talking about his work. you haven’t had a lonely moment since the day you met tom, and you wouldn’t change a single thing.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #billy the kid x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #tom blyth fluff #coriolanus x you #tom blyth x you

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its-time-to-write · 7 months

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I saw you asked for requests a few days ago. I was wondering if you would consider doing another part of the Kent!reader x Jamie fics.

I was thinking they do end up pregnant and its them telling everyone they’re pregnant . I can see everyone being so excited for them. And then Roy is just freaking out.

Since they’ve already discussed wanting to be together forever and have kids I can also see them deciding to get married before the baby is born in a small ceremony like Beard had.

I have quite a few requests about Jamie x reader having a kid, so if that ain’t your jam, maybe don’t read my next few posts😂 It’s totally my jam tho, maybe bc I’m suffering from baby fever again. thanks for requesting and for your patience!!

let’s fall in love for the night

Jamie’s jiggling his leg up and down so fast that you’re surprised he hasn’t cramped yet.

“Calm down,” you hiss, hand on his knee.

“Can’t,” he whispers back. “Roy’s gonna fucking kill me.”

You have no sympathy for him. “Yeah, and whose fault is that? Yours.”

Jamie shoots you a sideways glance. “Excuse me, this was a team effort.”

“Whatever,” you say. “I still say it’s your fault.”

Molly swoops by to refill your water glasses. “Dinner’s ready in a few minutes. Roy and Phoebe have been working very hard,” she says.

She raises her eyebrows on the word very, and you’re sure that Roy’s patience is being pushed to his limits. He loves cooking and refuses to let anyone help him, but he also loves your niece and can’t deny her anything she wants.

“Better go check on them,” she says, leaving you and Jamie alone again in the backyard.

Jamie resumes the previous conversation and says, “Well, I wasn’t the one wearing that blue thing with the flowers.”

“Well obviously,” you shoot back, “it wouldn’t even fit you.”

Jamie’s stopped jiggling his leg and he places his hand on top of yours. “Oi. Has Roy ever actually killed anyone before, or does he just have serial killer eyebrows?”

You wrinkle your nose and ask, “Why the fuck would I know?”

“You’re his sister,” Jamie replies in Phoebe’s patented duh tone.

“I’m his baby sister,” you say. “I’m even younger than Molly. If he’s killed someone, they’ve both conspired to make sure I’ll never find out. And hey, don’t make fun of the eyebrows. There’s a good chance this baby’s gonna end up with them.”

“Babe you don’t have ‘em,” Jamie points out.

“I wax,” you say smugly. “Oh, Molly texted. Time to go inside.”

Jamie groans but lets you lead him to the table.

—

All told, Phoebe didn’t do half bad.

“Auntie, I did the potatoes all by myself,” she says.

You look to Roy for confirmation. He grunts and gives a tiny nod.

“Great job, Phoebs,” you say.

Molly sets down her fork. “I’ve been thinking of changing my name back to ‘Kent,’” she says.

“Brill,” says Jamie.

“Fucking finally,” Roy says as he hands Phoebe some money. “For future words,” he mouths to her as she counts it before depositing what you’re pretty sure is 20 quid into her pocket.

Molly says, “We’ll all be the Kents again,” and you can feel Jamie go stiff next to you.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy asks, and you turn to see Jamie’s gone completely pale.

You pinch his thigh and he jumps. “Nothing,” he says hurriedly. “Well, not nothing. But, I dunno, don’t want to overshadow Molls’s good news, ya know? It ain’t important.”

You pinch him again.

“Ok, it’s actually a little fucking important (sorry Phoebe, take it from Roy). But um, maybe you could help me babe?”

He shoots you a pleading look so you take pity on him. You’ve had more than twenty years dealing with Roy, so you’ll let Jamie slide this once.

“Right, so, we’ve been meaning to tell you- I’m having a baby,” you blurt out.

Roy’s dinner roll gets crushed in his hand as his face goes bright red.

“What,” he growls, and you’re not sure if you’re more terrified by the absence of “fuck”s or the fact that it was a statement, not a question.

“That’s wonderful, love!” Molly says before Roy can say anything else. She’s not looking at him but you can practically feel him take psychic damage from the shut up and be happy you prick, message she’s sure to be telepathically sending him.

“It’s Jamie’s, right?” she continues, taking a bite of salad.

“The fuck kind of question is that?” you ask indignantly. “Who else’s would it be?”

“You don’t have to pay me for that one,” Phoebe pipes up. “I’ll give you a free tab of one hundred words because of the baby. If it’s a girl, you can have fifty more.”

You grin. “Sounds like a plan.”

“You’re probably going to owe her the fifty, Phoebs,” Molly says. She points to Jamie with her fork. “I mean, look at him. He practically screams ‘girl dad.’”

“That’s- fucking- great,” Roy garbles out. “‘Scuse me.”

“We’re having a backyard wedding next Saturday, too,” you call after him. “So we probably won’t all be the Kents again.”

You wince as he slams a door from somewhere in the house.

“He’ll come ‘round,” Molly says consolingly. “Remember how he was with Phoebe? And I was already married!”

You grip Jamie’s hand. “Molls, why can’t he just emote like a regular person? I mean honestly, did our parents fuck him up that bad?”

Molly raises a shoulder in a half shrug. “I don’t know, babe. Think he’s just like us, really, afraid of loving something so he just pushes it all away. And besides, you’re the baby of the family. We’ve always tried to protect you and keep you safe, and sometimes he feels like you’re out of reach.”

You ask, “He told you that?” and Molly just laughs.

“Not in so many words,” she replies. “But you know how he is.”

“He’s an arsehole,” you grumble. “I’m going to go talk to him.

—

Roy is, predictably, in the backyard. Not many places for him to go and think properly.

You find him sitting under the tree.

“Oi,” you say, “budge over.”

He grunts and moves so you’re not quite in the dirt.

“Can you be sitting on the ground?” he asks.

“It’s been like three months,” you reply, “That isn’t long enough for me to get stuck places.”

Roy says, “hmm,” but doesn’t offer up anything else so you just sit in silence next to him, pressing your shoulder to his.

“Why the fuck did it have to be Tartt?” he asks after a beat. “Could’ve been fucking anyone in the fucking world, and you fucking chose him.”

“You like Jamie,” you say in confusion.

“I don’t,” Roy replies, “he’s a prick. And a fucking footballer. Why’d you have to go for a fucking good-for-nothing footballer? He can’t even be around for his family when they go through shit because he’s going to be busy scoring fucking meaningless goals or some shit.”

That stings for a moment, but you take a good look at Roy’s face. It’s stoic, but shit if you can’t read it like a book. Blood is blood, and you’re a Kent just like him.

“This isn’t about him, is it. It’s about you. You think you did a shit job as a brother and an uncle so Jamie’s going to be a shit father.”

“I missed out on a lot,” Roy says hoarsely. “And before you say fucking shit, I’m not fucking crying. So shut the fuck about it.”

You grin and wrap your arms around him. “You’re the best big brother a girl could ask for. Took all my cues from you. And anyway, you’ve been there when it counts. Phoebe fucking adores you, practically attached at the hip you two. And yeah, Molls and I missed you when you were at Sunderland and Chelsea and wherever. But… you came back. We needed you, and you came back. So don’t go projecting your stupid self-image on Jamie, because he’s not like that. And you’re not either, you absolute fucking ape-armed frizzy-haired shit-faced twat.”

Roy huffs out a chuckle. “Ape-arms. Haven’t heard that one in a while.”

“Almost went with ‘camel knees.’ Haven’t used that since I was ten, but I thought it might hit too close to home these days.”

Roy laughs for real this time and tilts his head so it’s resting on yours. “Still fucking weird that my little sister’s having a kid.”

You say, “You’ll get over it. Oh, and don’t wear a goddamn T-shirt on Saturday.”

—

It’s rainy, so the backyard wedding becomes a living room wedding, because who really gives a shit? Richmond have a game tomorrow, but for today they’re in yours and Jamie’s house all dressed up (but still in trainers) laughing and smiling as Dani officiates what you’re sure is your dream wedding.

It’s not the one you and Molly would’ve giggled about as kids when you sneaked from your bed into hers, but everyone you loves is here.

For once, Jamie’s house almost seems too small.

(Dani was the only person you two knew who was ordained or whatever. And hey, could you have picked a happier person for it?)

Molly and Keeley had gone out with you to find a white dress, Sam and Phoebe were the flower-people, and Roy walked you down the stairs to where Jamie was standing with Isaac by his side.

“I’m not fucking crying,” Roy whispers in your ear. “It’s fucking allergies from being in this prick’s house for too long.”

“It’s my house too,” you remind him.

Roy just sniffs, pats your hand where it’s tucked into his arm, and presses a kiss to your cheek.

All in all, it was pretty great.

Gifts range from hair products to restaurant gift cards to designer baby clothes, including a tie-dyed onesie from Phoebe.

“I have a matching one at home,” she explains.

But now it’s the evening and everyone is gone except family.

“Can’t believe my baby’s married,” says a beaming Georgie as she ruffles Jamie’s hair from their place on the couch.

“Can’t believe he attained his childhood goal of marrying into the Kent family,” Molly remarks.

Jamie grins smugly. “What can I say, I’m a fucking goal-getter.”

You’re snuggled in Jamie’s arms, dress exchanged for a white sweatshirt and sweatpants set, courtesy of Rebecca.

“I’d’ve had a poster of you on me wall if they made one, babe,” Jamie says. “Better sight than that hairy git.”

Roy just rolls his eyes and says “I’m getting another beer.”

“Can you bring me a piece of cake?” you call after him.

“Me too?” Phoebe asks, looking hopefully at Molly.

Jamie pats your knee. “Don’t think he heard you, love. I’ll get it for ya. You too, Phoebs.” He shoots a wink in her direction, and she giggles.

“Oi, grandad,” Jamie says, walking into the kitchen. “Did you hear your sister?”

Roy turns around from the fridge with a menacing look.

“If she has a single moment of unhappiness, I’m going to fucking kill you,” he growls.

“Jesus, sorry,” Jamie says, hands in the air. “What’s got your knickers all in a twist?”

Fucking Jamie, never able to back down from a good squabble with Roy.

They’re both keeping their voices down because they know if they got caught, no less than three people would be grabbing them by the ear and yelling.

They might know this from personal experience.

Roy says, “She’s my little sister. I’d fucking murder for her, and so would Molly. Always tried to make it easier for her when she missed our parents and shit, but it always fucking got to her anyway. Didn’t help that I fucked off to Sunderland at fucking nine, before she was even fucking born. She’s wanted a family of her own for fucking ages, and if you fuck this up for her they will never. Find. Your body.”

Jamie’s not sure Roy’s ever looked this menacing, which is saying something, because he’s Roy fucking Kent. He always looks menacing.

So he nods and says quietly, “I ain’t gonna fuck it up, Coach. Had a shit dad too. Always wished he were around, except when he was then he’d get all fuckin’ angry and shit. But… still wanted him, y’know? Weird. Anyway, not gonna be like that with her. I want a family too.”

Roy looks straight into his eyes, looking for the barest hint of insincerity. Jamie’s gaze doesn’t waver. He’s not sure of much, but he’s sure of this. He’s sure of you.

Roy says, “Right,” nods once, then claps Jamie on the shoulder right at his phone dings.

Jamie pulls out his phone to a text from you that reads, pls stop fangirling over my brother. baby wants cake and so does ur mum

He smiles and tries to figure out how to balance three plates at once.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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freelancearsonist · 3 months

Text

Whole

Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Rated MA for the most long-winded poetic smut i've ever written jfc 🤦‍♀️ slow burn fluff with a couple sprinkles of angst for flavor, reader uses fem pronouns and is described as having female parts, it's dirty y'all but at least they use protection

7,470 Words

A/N: you all know my mo by now i disappear for a year and then come back and lay down some god damned PORN. this fic is no exception to the rule. @shakespeareanwannabe requested this back in july and she literally just asked for a cute moment between steve and dustin, sorry you got 6k words more than you bargained for 😂 but also thank you for betaing and the constant validation you're the best ily 🖤

Steve’s not sure how it even worked.

He can still remember the look on Robin’s face when you agreed, how she was speechless for almost ten minutes because she couldn’t process what had just happened.

Steve’s reaction was about the same as hers, in all honesty. He’s gotten so used to striking out that asking people out has become something of a game to him. He knows he’ll get a no, and he knows Robin will laugh her ass off at him. But what can he say? He likes putting a smile on his best friend’s face.

Needless to say, you’ve shaken him. In the best possible way. Because your answer was three letters instead of two.

And now, he's a little bit in over his head.

Or, to be more accurate, a lot in over his head.

It seems like it’s been ages since he’s gone on a date, even though it’s only been a few months at most. He feels lost, like he’s completely unlearned everything he ever knew about girls.

He hates it, despises it with every fiber of his own being, but he also knows it’s true; he needs advice. And although he’ll never admit it to the little shithead’s face, there’s no one better he can think of going to than his very own protege. Who better to remind him of his own prowess than the person who learned everything they know from him?

One look at Dustin’s smug little face and Steve almost regrets it. Almost.

“Just can’t stay away, can you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes and gives the younger boy a little shove, camouflaging it with an affectionate pat on the back. “This is strictly business, Henderson.”

“Oh, is it now?” The younger boy’s voice takes on a smug tone as he folds his fingers together and leans back in his chair. “Well then, why don’t you have a seat? Step into my office.”

Steve rolls his eyes and slides into the booth, shooting a smile and a “thank you” to the kind waitress who delivers two milkshakes to their table.

Dustin takes his time and makes a meal of unwrapping his straw, feeding off of Steve’s clear impatience Steve’s fingers tap against the table, reminding himself that patience is necessary when you come to someone for a favor. It’s just that it’s Dustin, and Dustin knows exactly how to get under the older boy’s skin in the most annoying-yet-oddly-endearing fashion.

“So…” Dustin finally says after a lengthy sip of strawberry milkshake. “What brings you so humbly to me?”

“I’ve got a date.”

And Dustin, the little bastard–he laughs. A deep, rumbling belly laugh, so pure and unfiltered that the three other occupied tables in the diner pause their conversations to get a look at the boy clutching his sides.

Steve’s a little embarrassed by the attention, but even more embarrassed that Dustin’s reaction is so genuine. The fact that the idea of him having a date is so laughable is a bit of a punch to the gut. It hasn’t really been that long, has it?

When Dustin’s laughter finally dies down he realizes Steve’s face is completely serious, and it makes him giggle even more.

“Wait, you’re actually serious? Who on earth did you manage to pull?”

Steve’s nearly bashful as he says your name, and even more bashful when Dustin’s jaw visibly drops.

“No fucking way. I’d believe anyone else, but her? She’s like… hotter than Phoebe Cates. There’s no way you wouldn’t strike out with her.”

Steve’s immediately on the defensive. Is it really so hard to believe that he, former king of Hawkins High, could pull the most gorgeous girl in town?

But that’s just it. There’s really no one like you, not in his eyes. He’s admired you since freshman year and never once even tried with you because he knew he wasn’t worthy. You were always in the background–a beautiful, kind, smart, funny girl just out of his reach. Part of the reason he even asked you out was because he was so sure he would strike out. In the end, losing his confidence was exactly what he needed to pull the girl of his dreams.

And that’s why there’s so much riding on this. You’ve always been his biggest “what if”, the girl he wonders about when thinking that maybe not trying has been holding him back. And apparently, it has.

“Look, I don’t even know how it happened, okay? But she said yes, and… and I really don’t want to blow it.”

“Well duh. You’ll have to leave town if you blow it with her, you know that, right? If she doesn’t think you’re worth it, no one else in this town ever will again.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” Steve groans, slouching down so far in the booth that Dustin can just barely see his poor, overwhelmed face.

“Steve, listen…” Dustin’s voice takes on an almost fatherly quality, an omniscient tone that gives off the illusion of great hidden knowledge. He gets like this sometimes, and Steve’s not always sure that it is just an illusion. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re, like, one of the coolest guys I know. If she doesn’t like you… that’s her problem, not yours. Okay?”

Steve straightens in his seat, a little shocked to hear such kind words from a friend that he’s used to being mercilessly teased by.

“No, no, no, it’s going to your head. I take it all back. Forget I said anything.” Dustin’s hearty giggle makes Steve smile as he sets a wad of bills on the table and slides out of the booth.

“You’re not so bad Henderson, you know that?” He gives the younger boy’s full head of curls an affectionate ruffle. “Thanks, kid. I’ll radio later.”

Not that Steve didn’t have total faith in his young protege, but it’s still a relief that the pep talk turned out to be exactly what he needed to hear. Dustin’s right, after all. Steve’s worked hard to become the man he’s always wanted to be. He may not be dripping charisma or sex appeal the way he used to, but he’s much more comfortable in his own skin. That’s what counts, right?

And you really are his dream girl. The opportunity to take you out tonight, even if it ends up being your first and only date together, is an honor. He’s much less focused now on all the ways he could screw up, hyper-fixated on putting the effort in to make this the best night of your life.

That effort comes out in the carefully selected suit jacket he dons over his white button-up, the extra spritz of cologne, the careful touch-up shave to vanquish his five o’clock shadow, the extra ten minutes using the perfect amount of product in his hair so that it stays in place yet is still soft to the touch.

By the time he gets to Enzo’s (half an hour early, mind), he’s practically vibrating with nerves and anticipation. He’s never been much of an overthinker, but he sure is tonight. Is this place too much for the first date? Would you rather do something lowkey, like catch a movie or go for a walk in the park? He has to remind himself a couple of times that you agreed to this, that you wouldn’t have said yes if you weren’t interested in the arrangement.

To say he’s prepared for this is putting it lightly. He’s run through every possible scenario in his mind, gone over conversation starters and questions he wants to ask you over and over again until he knows exactly how he wants to phrase each thing.

And still, nothing could prepare him for when you walk through the door.

He has to physically restrain his jaw from dropping because in the moment he sees you, every well-planned thought and all etiquette is flushed down the proverbial pipes. You’re nothing short of breathtaking in a dress that hugs all the right curves and shows just enough cleavage to have him imagining what else there might be to see. Your hair is pinned back out of your face, eyes framed by just the slightest bit of makeup to make the color of your irises pop. He swears he’s never seen a shade quite like them. It’s like you move in slow motion as you approach him–he sees the entrance of the smoking hot love interest in every romantic comedy, complete with smoke and fireworks, as you move towards the table.

And then some sense of decorum returns to his addled brain, and he quickly shoots up so he can pull out your chair for you like a proper gentleman. He catches just the slightest whiff of your perfume, and he’s a goner. He’s ready to sign his life away to you, to yank his own heart out of his chest to offer to your careful hands.

He has to give his head a shake to compose himself before he goes any further off the deep end. No one’s ever thoroughly shaken him the way you have, and it’s been a matter of thirty seconds. It’s almost intimidating, the effect you have on him.

“You look… incredible,” he fumbles as he takes his seat across from you. “I mean, you always do, but… wow.”

The shy giggle you emit tugs at a heartstring he didn’t even know he had.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a genuine smile. “You clean up very well yourself.”

“I do like to put in some effort every once in a while.” He flashes the most charming smile he can muster, and just like that he’s back. His resolve to impress you is reinforced tenfold. You’ve shaken him, and it’s such an unfamiliar feeling that he’s practically bumbling. He wants to shake you just as badly.

The food’s delicious, and the conversation’s even better. He has a track record for taking out a more–for lack of a better term–bimbo-y type, and that’s definitely not you. You’re smart, you’re witty, but you don’t make him feel like an idiot. He’s so taken with you that he doesn’t even notice that three hours have passed until he looks around the room and notices that every table is now empty and bussed.

The waiter delivers the check, and Steve notices you gnawing on your lip.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, trying not to be too prying.

“I don’t want this to be over yet.”

Steve smiles. He’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. He’s never been so sure of anything, and that surprises him. He’s used to dates who are easy to read and even easier to take home, and those aren’t the impressions you’ve been giving him. To know that you’re feeling exactly what he’s feeling is a huge confidence boost.

“I don’t either.”

Your hand is so small compared to his. That’s all he can think about as he strolls next to you, his fingers intertwined with yours. He’s always considered hand-holding to be child’s play, it’s never excited him before the way it does in this moment with you.

It’s pitch black in the park and he can hear the overlapping chirping of summer cicadas and grasshoppers, the perfect background noise now that the conversation has died down. It’s less about getting to know each other at this point and more just basking in each other’s presence, prolonging the inevitable because neither one of you can bear to call it a night when it’s been such a good few hours.

You’re shocked, to say the very least. Steve certainly has a reputation, and it’s not for being a romantic. Yet everything tonight has flown in the face of all the rumors you’ve been hearing since junior high. You figured he’d be a fun fling, and probably only one night at that–you’d made your peace with the idea. To find that he’s kind, considerate, funny, and can match your intellect and quick wit… it’s a very pleasant surprise. And that’s what has you out well past a decent hour, giddy over simply holding his hand like you’re a damned school girl all over again.

“I should probably let you go home,” Steve sighs wistfully. He hates to be the one to bring it up, but you’re on your fifth lap around the park and about to circle back to where your car is parked so now seems the best time.

You’re chewing your lip again, a thoughtful habit that makes his heart pound just a little bit harder.

Here’s the thing: you’re really not the bold type. You act confident, sure, but in practice it’s a lot more difficult for you. So no one’s more surprised than you are when you say, “You could come home with me. If you want.”

Steve’s definitely shocked, too. Less shocked at your proposition and more at the fact that he’s tempted to decline. Because no matter how much he’s been running through the back of his mind what you might look like under that gorgeous dress, he doesn’t want this to end there. For the first time in his life, he wants to find more meaning than sex out of a relationship. He doesn’t want to take you home and never see you again. He wants to take you out again, and again, and again, and again after that. He sees a future, for once, that doesn’t look dim and hopeless. That fact alone scares the shit out of him.

He realizes he’s waited way too long to reply and fumbles for an answer. “Of course I want to. I’d be an idiot not to. But…”

You chew that cursed bottom lip of yours again, and Steve has to focus on the obvious cue you’re giving him rather than the fact that he wants to be the next set of teeth around that lip.

He stops in his tracks, gently pulling on your hand to face him so he can take your other hand in his free one. “It’s not a bad but. I mean, I’m going to go home kicking myself for saying no because I really honestly do want to… well, y’know. But… I want to do this right with you. I want to take you out again. I want to get to know you and see where this goes. I can’t… I don’t want this to end tonight.”

He’s eternally grateful for how dark it is as he feels a flush consume his face. He can’t remember a time he’s been so honest and open, especially on a first date; but the look on your face tells him he’s done something right.

“Okay,” you tell him, squeezing his hands in yours. “You… honestly have no clue how nice it is to hear that.”

“Of course,” he continues, “if you just want me for my body, no hard feelings.”

You laugh at that, genuinely laugh, and Steve thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

“No,” you reassure him. “No, I… I wanna see where this goes, too.”

You’re stopped only a few paces from your car, and Steve knows with a twist of his gut that this is the end of the night. It makes his gut turn with disappointment, but also with anticipation of when he’ll see you next. Already, his mind is flooding with ideas of where he can take you and what you’ll do together.

You drop one of his hands so you can walk but keep a tight grip on the other until you get to your driver’s side door, hesitating outside because you’re still not ready for this to be over. It takes every ounce of restraint he has not to kiss you, unsure of if that would be moving too fast.

Thankfully, you make the call yourself. Leaning up on your toes, hands against his chest for balance, you press your lips against his and he has to summon every mite of strength not to moan. No one’s ever tasted so sweet, molded against him so perfectly. His hands drift from your shoulders down your arms, coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you just a little bit closer. It’s a fight of will not to overstep, to break off the kiss before it can become too heated. His mind is spinning by the time you break away. He’s aching for more, and he hopes you are too.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

Your sweet voice replays in his mind all night, long after you’ve gotten into your car and driven away, long after he’s returned to his own vehicle and pulled the radio out from under the driver’s seat to check in with Dustin, long after he arrives home and soaks in a cold shower for longer than he probably should. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get your voice out of his head, and he couldn’t be any less upset about it.

He practically counts down the minutes until he sees you again. This time, he has a little less restraint. He greets you with a kiss–a sweet peck and a hand on your waist that leaves you aching for even more.

It’s a movie this time, a chance to enjoy each other’s company on a night you’re both too tired from working to engage in heavy conversation and getting to know each other further.

It starts with sharing popcorn, then holding hands, then somewhere along the way the film is completely forgotten in favor of your lips meeting his. His breath grows heavy as his hands hold your face, committing you to memory while resisting the urge to explore further. Your hands, meanwhile, are firmly on his thighs, gripping tightly to keep yourself steady as you do everything you can to keep yourself from crawling into his lap.

He whispers your name, and your grip on him tightens.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, then gives up on the futile attempt at finishing his sentence so that he can pull you even deeper into the kiss as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip.

It takes everything in him not to moan when your lips eagerly part to accept him.

Needless to say, once the credits start rolling you’re both more than a little hot under the collar.

“Let me buy you dinner,” Steve suggests as he woefully unwinds himself from you. Declining doesn’t even flicker through your mind as a possibility.

It’s not Enzo’s this time, but it doesn’t have to be. He could set a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of you at this point and you’d still thank him for it. This time around, you’re not really as interested in the cuisine as you are just simply getting through this meal to what’s next. Because what’s next is all you’ve been thinking about since you walked through the doors the night of that very first date and saw Steve Harrington wearing a blazer for you. It’s a level of effort he’s definitely not known for–in fact, he’s built a reputation for putting in so little effort that it nearly made your jaw drop to see him trying. And it certainly made your heart skip a beat.

But then again, the Steve before you carelessly wolfing down his bacon cheeseburger seems very different from the Steve you knew in high school, even if you didn’t know that iteration as intimately as this one. That one was cool, collected, snarky and pompous and maddeningly desirable.

This Steve, your Steve, is nearly an exact foil. Much less cocky, a little less confident but more self-assured in the ways that actually hold meaning, less worried about what the people around him are observing of him than what you’re observing of him. He seems happier, more carefree, more eager to please others than simply himself. He’s grown so much in such a short amount of time, and you feel proud just for having the honor to witness it. Significantly more proud to be on the receiving end of his affections now that they hold the kind of value you’ve always wished they would.

He looks up and notices you staring at him while lost in thought, a small smile spreading across his lips as your eyes quickly dart away.

“What’s on your mind?” He questions as he licks a stray bit of ketchup from his thumb.

“Just… happy I’m here. With you.” It brings heat to your cheeks to admit it, but you don’t want him to go unappreciated in this moment.

It’s the right thing to say, because his smile grows even wider. “I’m happy too,” he admits. “I… I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while. Could never work up the courage, I guess.”

“Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was intimidated by me?” You say it with a mock gasp, but your shock is more genuine than you give off. Never in a million years would you have thought that he, the man who could have whoever he wanted, would be worried over you saying no to him. It’s almost comical, especially considering the way you practically threw yourself at him on your first date. Of course then, you had no clue how much he’d developed as a person. You’re almost ashamed of your behavior now, as if you might’ve inadvertently been taking advantage of the new and improved Steve who isn’t just into you for a hookup.

He shrugs, nearly bashful at your teasing. “Never figured I was good enough for you. So I didn’t bother to try.”

You’re genuinely curious now, leaning in a little closer and brushing your fingers against his hand resting atop the diner counter. “What made you change your mind?”

“Honestly? I was so sure you’d say no that I asked just to give Robin a chuckle. She loves watching me get shot down.”

That makes you frown, and he’s quick to backtrack. “I wanted to! I just… I’ve had a bad track record lately. And you’re… you’re you. You’re the last person I should be worthy of.”

His eyes are quick to avert from your gaze, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he contemplates whether he’s said too much.

“Steve…” you properly grab his hand now in the hopes that it’ll bring his eyes back to you, and it works. “You’re the only person I’ve deemed worthy in a long time, honestly.”

Steve Harrington is scaldingly warm. It’s one of many sensations forcing your mind into overdrive as he lays you delicately across the backseat of his beemer, one hand cushioning the back of your head while simultaneously deepening the already heated kiss and the other balancing his weight to lean over you in the cramped space without completely crushing you.

Your fingers tangle themselves into his soft brown locks, tugging ever-so-slightly as his tongue slips between your parted lips. He’s an eager explorer and you’re more than happy to let him take the lead, to show you all the skill you’ve heard so many whispers about.

You let out an involuntary moan as he wedges himself even closer to you, his body heat soaking through all the layers of clothing between the two of you and warming you all the way to your very bones.

You’re practically aching, ready to beg, and he knows it the second you wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to get him even closer. If there’s one thing Steve Harrington’s good at, it’s assessing your needs. He pulls away just the slightest bit to adjust his position so he can get closer, wedging a knee between your legs to press right against your core, and it makes you jolt back against the car door at the same time his head hits the roof just a bit too hard.

You both pause for a moment, the reality of your situation hitting you simultaneously, and then you’re laughing. It’s light and edged with unresolved want, but it’s enough to fracture the tension of the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Shouldn’t have gotten so carried away. This isn’t how I want to do this.”

“No?”

“No. You deserve way better than this old beater,” he chuckles, then leans down to kiss you. This kiss is lighter, no longer edged with tension and lust. He kisses you just to kiss you–there’s no end goal to it this time.

“What could be better than a BMW?” You tease lightly, trying to reassure him that you’re less disappointed than you really feel.

“You know. Something romantic. A proper bed, rose petals, maybe a few candles…”

“I don’t need all that,” you try to tell him.

“I think I do,” he admits. And that’s enough to pull you back, to remind you that you need to be patient and grateful that he values you so much as to want to do this whole thing properly. That his affection is something to be cherished, not taken for granted.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to be pushy.”

“Please don’t apologize.” He hesitates to untangle himself from you, even though he knows he needs to. “I want this just as bad. I just… I need it to be right.”

“As long as I have you, it’ll be right,” you reassure. “I hope you know that.”

He presses his lips to yours again, a slow and passionate kiss that he hopes communicates every bit of adoration he feels for you in this moment.

“It’ll be perfect. I swear,” he vows. You’ve never believed anything more whole-heartedly than you do this promise.

~~~

“Wait, you’re telling me that you literally had her under you and you stopped?” Robin’s halfway through chewing a mouthful of popcorn and the absolute carnage inside her agape mouth makes Steve give her a light shove.

“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full, y’know.”

“It’s not polite to blue-ball either!” She shoots back in utter disbelief.

“How do you think I felt? I was this close,” he holds his thumb and index finger barely millimeters apart, “to sealing the deal.”

She just shakes her head. “You, Steve Harrington, are a genuine, bonafide idiot.”

She’s not telling him anything he doesn’t know. It’s been three days since the aborted fling in the backseat of his car, and he’s barely thought of anything else. Especially since you’ve been away from home both of the past nights when he’s called. He’s starting to worry you’ve gotten the wrong impression, that he’s not interested or that he’s toying with you. It’s the exact opposite. He wants nothing more than to know you in the most intimate way he can know you. But he needs it to be flawless. He needs it to be well thought-out and precisely planned, the most romantic event in the history of copulation. He won’t settle for anything less, not with you. You deserve perfection, and he won’t give you anything less.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he tries to explain. “I want to more than anything. But if you’re gonna go to town on a goddess, you need to do some worshiping, y’know? I don’t feel like I’ve done enough.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear this admission. You weren’t sure what to expect–worried that maybe visiting him at work was an overstep–but hearing him call you a goddess certainly wasn’t on your radar.

“You’ve done more than enough, Steve.”

The sound of your voice makes Steve jump and whirl around, oblivious to Robin’s sly smirk and mumbled excuse of needing to attend to something in the back room.

“H-hey!” He squeaks, then clears his throat in an attempt to get his tone back to its normal octave. “What… what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, just came to pick up a tape,” you tease. “But mostly I came to see you.”

“Me?” He takes a moment to ground himself, loosening his too-tight grip on the counter. “I mean… I tried to call you last night. And the night before?”

Your brow furrows. “Really? I didn’t get your message.”

Because he didn’t leave one. He clears his throat and says, “I just figured you were busy.”

“Oh, well, I volunteer at the animal shelter on Wednesdays, and last night was my friend’s 21st birthday. I’m sorry I missed you, though.”

He can tell that you’re really remorseful, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest a little bit. He plays it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No, it’s fine, it’s… are you free tonight?”

You giggle at the abrupt redirect, but he’s played directly into your hand.

“Yeah, actually. I was hoping maybe you could help me pick out something for us to watch tonight? If you’re free too, that is.”

His dark eyes blink slowly, wondering if you’re aware of the implication behind your completely innocent words. You. Him. A movie. Alone. It’s enough to make his head spin.

“I’ve never been freer.”

Conveniently, you’ve come in close enough to the end of his shift that by the time you’re done combing through Family Video’s vast selection for the perfect film to use as background noise, Steve’s ready to clock out. And since you walked over after finishing your own shift at the local dollar store up the street, it works out perfectly that he can give you a ride straight to his place.

You only glance in the backseat once, but it’s enough to get your mind churning. Remembering the feeling of him, of what could’ve been. Anticipating what will be.

“Parents home?” You ask as he pulls into his driveway and parks, trying to sound casual and utterly failing.

“Nope,” he answers easily. “Took a detour to Cabo on their way home from Hawaii.”

“Sounds glamorous. You opted out?”

“I’d rather be here in Hawkins with you than on a beach alone anyday.”

He must know the effect his words have on you. Surely he can hear the way your heart picks up pace as he looks at you with those dark, affectionate eyes.

“So… this is home.” He waves a hand around the entrance hall like it’s a shabby nightmare, not the grandest house you’ve ever been in.

“I’m starting to understand why they used to call you King Steve.”

He’s almost embarrassed at the mention of that old high school nickname. “Trust me, this isn’t why.”

“Well, a palace does befit you,” you tell him with a smirk.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush.” The wink he shoots you makes your gut erupt with butterflies, a sensation that would normally make you a little uncomfortable. With Steve, you’d take the butterflies all day long.

He gives you a cursory and oversimplified tour of the ground floor before leading you upstairs, and suddenly he’s sheepish. It’s been a few moons since he shared his room with a girl, so the nerves are justified. But that’s too simple an explanation. You’re not a girl. You’re his dream, his muse, his–to re-quote himself–goddess. No one he’s ever cared about more has stood where you’re standing, and it terrifies him.

He hides it well, though, busying himself with making a comfortable nest for you in his bed before setting up the television set on the dresser against the far wall. If ever there was a time to regain his confidence, it’s now. He curses whatever god there is that he feels like a fumbling virgin in this moment when nothing is even happening, when just the anticipation is enough to make his hands tremble.

There’s no more stalling once you’re comfortable and the tape is set to play. His heart pounds to the steady and frantic rhythm of one of those heavy rock songs Dustin listens to now as he sits next to you, hands itching to take a hold of you but also eager not to move too fast.

Almost as if you can sense his hesitation, you reach over and take his hand. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, and the second his lips slot to yours all the worry and anxiety is gone. He’s Steve Harrington, and he knows what he’s doing. You’re you, and he’s wanted this for so long. After years of being lost, he deserves to finally find the love he’s been looking for. He’s never been so sure of anything as he is, in this moment of initial clarity, that he’s in love with you.

He can’t say it, not yet. He’s sure it’s too soon, and the last thing he wants is to scare you off. But he’s determined to prove it to you, and the only way besides words is action.

He can handle action.

There’s no more restraint or hesitation behind his touch. This is it, this is what you’ve both been waiting for. There’s no way in hell he’s not going to deliver now. He’s desperate for you, and it shows in the heavy way his hands drag along your curves whilst committing you to memory; the way his tongue languidly swipes across your bottom lip; the way he shifts effortlessly to hover over you even while deepening the kiss.

He’s overwhelming every single sense of yours in such a sudden fashion, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Especially not when his hips meet yours in a deliciously slow grind and you finally get your first little taste of what’s to come.

He keens at the little breathless whimpers that leave your mouth, reading every single signal you provide him with and accommodating each. Moaning? He continues what he’s doing, intensifying if deemed necessary. Whining? He adds something, because he knows it’s hard to use your words when you’re wanting so badly. Squirming? He pays attention to the direction of your movement and pulls away or presses closer depending on necessity. It’s down to science for him; he only really cared about extracurriculars in school anyway, and this was certainly his favorite.

But then he comes to his senses–while he doesn’t pull away completely, he needs to clear his mind and he does so by letting up a bit, allowing the kiss to become languid and the heat to extinguish a bit. It only makes you whine more, and Steve curses his damned formula. You shouldn’t be part of an equation. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, and every aspect of your relationship so far has been a new experience for him. He needs this particular activity to be different too. No formulas or calculations. Just you and him and whatever happens naturally.

Clearly you can hear the cogs in his mind turning. You pull away with a concerned look on your face and ask, “what’s on your mind?”

Now’s not the time to hide anything from you, he reasons with himself. He wants to be authentic with you, and part of that means telling the truth, even if it’s not something particularly comfortable.

“I’m… falling into a routine. And I don’t want to,” he admits. He sighs and leans back, one hand dragging through his shaggy and disheveled hair, sure that he’s going to ruin the mood if he carries on like this. But he refuses to back away from the truth now. “This… it’s always been like…. Like a series of checkpoints. Boxes to check, y’know? Kiss you, take your clothes off, make you come, fuck you, say goodnight. And I don’t want… I can’t let it be like that with you. I need this to be… real. Not just some list to cross shit off of. I don’t–”

Steve takes a long, shaky breath before he can ramble on anymore. Never has someone so thoroughly gotten under his skin. He’s never felt so insecure, so unsure. It’s terrifying. The most terrifying part of it all, though, is that he likes it. He loves the feeling of the unfamiliarity, of doing this right. In a way, it’s almost like he’s doing all of this for the first time all over again. You’re his first date, first kiss, first time. All because he’s changed so drastically, because he’s not even remotely the same person he was just a year or two ago.

Your hands are so gentle as you cup his face, tenderly forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Steve… we don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready. I want to be with you, not just for this, but for everything. Everything that comes with you… that’s what I want. There’s no pressure. I would wait a hundred years for you to be ready so long as I could still have you.”

Steve’s breath shakes a little as he comprehends the gravity of your words. There’s nothing he can say that can properly convey the gratitude he holds for your words, so he says nothing at all.

In his silence, you continue. “You’re more than a body, you know that, right? You’re funny, and kind, and smart. Yes, smart, don’t look at me like that. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to be close to. I just… I want to spend time with you. I want to watch stupid movies and eat diner food until we get sick and laugh at your stupid jokes… and maybe make love with you, sure, but that’s pretty low on the list as long as I just get to be with you.”

He doesn’t notice the tears until it’s too late–by the time you’re wiping them from the apples of his cheeks it’s far too late to take them back or hide them. With anyone else, he would be angry; at himself, for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. For allowing himself to be so emotional. With you, though… with you, his emotions make him feel strong.

For the first time since you walked into his life, he’s not scared of losing you.

“I love you,” he tells you. His voice is firm, as fierce as the kiss he presses to your mouth, as powerful as the waves of emotion vibrating through his very soul. “I love you so much.”

He barely gives you a chance to reply, as keen as he is on physically proving his love to you through myriad passionate kisses that leave you breathless. But when you finally get the chance to use your voice after a barrage of kisses that start to trail down your neck, you whisper, “I love you too.”

Four words, and they’re all he needs to quell every worry or fear he’s had over doing this relationship properly with you. Why should he have to worry, after all, when he’s already succeeded?

“I love you,” he whispers as he trails down your neck and to your chest, leaving tender love bites on the tops of your breasts once he’s properly liberated you from your shirt.

“I love you,” he mumbles through sucking a mark a few inches north of your navel.

“I love you,” he murmurs when his lips meet your waistband. His fingers make quick work of your pants as he scatters kisses over your stomach, unable to part his mouth from your skin for even a moment.

“I love you,” he affirms as his mouth meets your hot and waiting core.

There’s no more checklist. Because this isn’t simply sex, as it always has been for him in the past. This is love-making: the kind of sappy shit they talk about in all those Hallmark movies that he rolls his eyes at the sight of. It’s like losing his virginity all over again.

He understands the old adage of “the other half” now. You’ve ripped him to shreds and sewed him back together with strands of yourself. The end result is better than the original ever could’ve even dreamed to be. He’s sure he couldn’t possibly live without you now, that losing you would be like ripping out fresh and unhealed stitches.

You’re not sure how long he camps out between your trembling thighs, but it’s long enough for you to lose count of the number of times he pulls you apart–first with his languid tongue; then his long, curved fingers; then a combination of the two. It’s like he loses himself completely in your pleasure, not a single thought in his head except what he can do to bring you to the edge again, and again, and again.

You’re trembling with oversensitivity by the time his own needs overtakes his desperation to unravel you. So out of it that you feel drunk, like Steve’s laced you with absolute bliss so pure you can barely stand it.

You’re hardly present enough to appreciate the adonis before you when he finally undoes his own jeans, and that’s a damned shame because he’s so damned pretty. Long and thick, flushed at the girthy tip from his hitherto unacknowledged arousal. His lean thighs are pure muscle, and the dark thatch of hair that trails south from his navel makes your mouth water. He’s everything you dreamed he’d be and so much more.

“Steve…” You don’t know what else you can possibly say. All you can do is vainly hope that one whine of his name can convey all of the heat, frustration, tension, and above all longing, swirling through your head in the moment.

He breaks from his lustful reverie for a moment to smile as he leans in for another heated kiss; you think it’s safe to say you’ve gotten your point across.

He slows from his mania for a few moments, lips tender as they explore against yours once more. These kisses are languid, slow, yet no less heated. Even now, he’s trying to prove his love to you. As if you could somehow not believe him after everything that’s happened, every small moment you’ve spent with him witnessing how hard he’s trying for you.

Somewhere in between kisses he manages to wrestle a condom out of his nightstand, miraculously without ever breaking from your lips.

Now is where you cut in, finally fading out of your over-pleasured fugue and back to reality. You take the little foil packet from his hands and tear it open, eager for this small chance to finally get a hand or two on him.

He lets out the most gorgeous noise you’ve ever heard as you roll the rubber down his length; a deep, earthy, diaphragmatic moan just from the simple touch of your hand. You want to touch him even more, to wrest out more of those sounds from him; to see what other undiscovered responses you can pull from him as you pleasure him. But you know that now, he needs to set the pace. He believes he has something to prove, and you’re more than happy to let him prove it. There will be plenty of other opportunities to have him completely at your mercy, anyway.

There’s no way to describe the feeling as he slides into you. It’s more than bliss, more than euphoria, more than earth-shattering toe-curling mind-altering pleasure. It’s nothing more than feeling whole. Of never knowing you were missing a part of yourself until it’s suddenly returned to you. Of never knowing what home felt like until this exact moment.

Maybe it’s overdramatic. Maybe it’s outlandish and outrageous and a million other adjectives to feel something so overpowering and overwhelming from such a seemingly simple physical act. But in this moment, you know you’ve never felt anything as right as being connected to Steve in this way.

His lips hardly leave yours while he rolls his hips against you, easily finding the perfect angle to make your breath hitch and your hands scrabble for purpose.

It admittedly doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t have to. Once you start to tighten and pulse around him, he’s a goner–deep purposeful thrusts turning to hard, arrhythmic plunges in desperate search of release.

You’re still shaking from your high when he slowly pulls out of you. He keeps you close, arms linked around your waist and dragging you to lay on his chest as he flops back against the pillows.

You’re not sure how long you lay like that, with Steve whispering sweet nothings into your hair and pressing absentminded kisses to your face. All you can really focus on is one all-consuming, life-changing fact.

“I love you, Steve Harrington.”

“I love you too,” he whispers back. He kisses you again, just a simple peck on your lips, and you know that he’s telling the truth. It’s an eternal truth: one that can’t be changed or altered in any way. Steve Harrington loves you with every fibre of his being, and he will for the rest of his life–even if you’re both blissfully unaware of it for now.

THE END

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#cece writes #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut

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elordilover · 2 months

Note

Could you write a soft book shop meet for reader x renee

omg yes i love this idea!!! thank you for the request! 🫶🏻

bookstore meeting

summary: you and reneé meet each other unexpectedly

warnings: nothing! not proof read, sorry if this sucks

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you felt the cold february air blow through your hair as you quickly walked down the street to one of your favorite spots, barnes & noble. you adjusted the strap on your tote bad and put your airpod in your ear, you decided to play some phoebe bridgers.

you opened the door and immediately felt at home, you felt comfortable. this was your favorite place to be on a cold winter day. you waltzed over the the romance section to find the book you were looking for: beach read by emily henry. all of the colors were merging together, it was hard to find it when every single book had a colorful spine.

when you finally found the shelf with her books you scanned over it until you found the book that you came here for. it was perfect. you searched around to find the one that was in the best condition.

“um, excuse me, sorry”, you heard a soft voice from behind you, you quickly turned around and moved out of the way while also taking out your airpod at the same time.

“oh, i’m sorry”, you replied feeling your heartbeat quicken seeing how beautiful this girl that was in front of you. something about her felt familiar but you couldn’t tell what.

“oh my god! is that beach read? i literally adore that book! it’s the cutest thing! you are going to love it!”, the blond said, catching you off guard.

“really? i’ve heard lots of good things about it!”, you replied, feeling nervous talking to a girl that could easily be a greek goddess. you noticed how she was looking for a book but couldn’t find the exact one.

“what book are you looking for?”, your mouth blurted out before your brain could comprehend what you were saying. you felt your cheeks turn red when she turned to look at you.

“it’s called the flat share, it’s by beth o’leary. i don’t know if you’ve heard of it but online it said it was right here so i’m not sure if why i can’t find it”, the ranted.

“huh”, you hummed out while scanning the shelves for her book this time. you spotted exactly what she was looking for.

“oh here! i found it”, you said to her while handing the book over to her. while you were doing that you noticed how perfectly her hands and nails looked, she had too have just gotten them done.

“thank you so much!! finally”, you could tell how excited she was.

“of course! i’m glad i could help”

“what what was your name?”, she asked you. you were not ready for this question and barely got it out of your mouth.

“Y- Y/N”, you nervously stated.

“Y/N”, she repeated to herself, “i’m reneé”

your cheeks started to heat up when she said your name. your name never sounded as beautiful as when she said it. it never sounded as important as when her lips shaped the sounds that created it.

when she said that her name was reneé you knew exactly who she was. reneé rapp. it didn’t hit you. you are standing right in front of reneé rapp.

after a few moments of awkward silence, she spoke again, “umm can i have your number?”, she hesitantly spoke, “you seem really nice and i’d love to get to know you”.

what. how is this real life. reneé rapp just asked for your number. you were internally freaking out.

“oh um yeah”, you replied while you told her what it was.

“okay perfect! thank you”, she said happily while she entered the numbers into her phone.

“wait this is how you spell it right”, she said while passing her phone over to you.

“yeah it’s perfect”, you replied after checking. a lot of people got your name wrong, and it bothered you a lot of the time, but if reneé got your name wrong, you would never want to be called something else ever again.

you guys walked up to the register and paid separately. then, you walked out of the store together, dreading having to leave her.

“bye reneé”, you said as you waved toward her.

“bye Y/N! i’ll text you!”, she yelled back you two walked tour separate ways.

once you got home you saw a text on your phone that read: “hey :)”, and you immediately got butterflies.

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let me know if you want a part 2!! also please send feedback!

send more requests! i love them, im also working on a couple others right now!

🍓🍊🫧🎀🪷🐞🌎💌🪻🪩🐝🥥🫀⭐️♥️🪸🫶🏻

#renee rapp x reader #renee rapp #renee rapp fanfiction #bookstore meeting #renee #renee rapp x you #you x renee rapp #books #famous! renee #writing #x reader

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alonetimelover · 9 months

Text

pairing: Harry Styles x equestrian!reader

fc: Jessica Springsteen

summary: in which harry needed to learn how to ride a horse for his daylight music video

a/n: thank you to the anon that requested equestrian!reader

masterlist

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, harrysmoustache and 42 101 others

harryupdates HARRY SPOTTED FILMING SOMETHING IN ATLANTA!!!!!!!!

view all 4 201 comments

hArrysbtch NO FUCKING WAY

hArrysbtch WHAT IS HAPPENING

harrysmoustache STOP whatever you're doing, just STOP

harrysmylife King is back

harryshoee this is for daylight, i'm telling you!

⤷ stylesbabie didn't he film sth with james?

⤷ harryshoee i think it was only for the show and not the original music video. at least I hope so!!!

harrybestie phoebe is that you?

harryno1fan he has a strange mind...

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yourinstagram

liked by harryupdates and 24 301 others

yourinstagram Olympics are no more for us, so Don Juan joined a circus!

view all 1 301 comments

hArrysbtch ill recognise that bitch anywhere!!!!

harryshoee ariana what are you doing here?????

harryupdates 👀

user49 hello, why are "Olympics no more"?

⤷ yourinstagram hiii! jumping has been removed from Olympics because of an incident that happened during one of the competitions.

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, stylesbabie and 33 201 others

harrysupdates HARRY FOLLOWED YN YSN ON IG AND TWITTER! he liked all of her photos and commented on the last 10!

view all 4 201 comments

harryupdates YN YSN is equestrian that won silver medal at the 2020 Olympics! she also is rumoured to be involved in harry's daylight music video!!

hArrysbtch nah, that bitch is gone!

harrysmoustache he's taken?!

harrysmylife maaaaan, he in love

stylesbabie oh she so posted a picture of harry on her ig then

harryshoee we're the same. I've done the same to her profile. I love her too

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harrylisbon

liked by harryupdates, hArrysbtch and 67 208 others

harrylisbon WTHAJDKOW GUYS!!!! HARRY JUST PLAYED THIS DURING DAYLIGHT!!!!!

view all 10 401 comments

harryupdates what is going on?????

hArrysbtch what if he drops ot during the final show????

harryshoee im losing my shit rn

stylesbabie im seeing him in Rome, he better played it in the background!!!!

harrysmoustache screaming crying throwing up

harrysfan82 I died dead

harrysfan03 i lost the idgaf war....

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harryupdates

liked by yourinstagram, harryshoee and 58 401 others

harryupdates DAYLIGHT MV 19th JULY 5PM UK

view all 6 402 others

harryupdates guess what? im not sleeping again tonight!

hArrysbtch excuse me, i have heart problems

harrysmoustache yellow bird supremacy!!!!!

yourinstagram 🏇🏻🏇🏻🏇🏻

⤷ hArrysbtch what you mean???????

⤷ harrysmylife yn, tell me you're involved!

⤷ yourinstagram 🤫

harrysmylife he's in his taylor era

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harrystyles

liked by harryupdates, yourinstagram and 8 301 031 others

harrystyles DAYLIGHT MV just for you, H xx yourinstagram

view all 491 301 comments

yourinstagram Don Juan looks magnificent!

⤷ harrystyles what about me?

⤷ yourinstagram we still need to work on your posture

⤷ harrystyles yes, ma'am

⤷ hArrysbtch WTF, he knows how to comment?????

harryupdates that's your best video to date

harrysmylife he can ride??? what can't he do??

annetwist Proud ❤️

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch and 49 302 others

harryupdates "She was the first choice from the moment the idea popped in my head. I couldn't be happier about it. She's the best." HARRY ON WORKING WITH YN IN DAYLIGHT MUSIC VIDEO BTS

view all 5 302 comments

hArrysbtch he in love

harrysmoustache HE BLUSHED SO HARD!!!!!

harryshoee the clips of the laughing together??????

harrysmylife and and and the way he looks at her

harrysfan94 but the clip when yn's doing all the jumping and all??? she's sooo good. couldn't harry just have her starring in the mv?

⤷ yourinstagram yeah, harrystyles?

⤷ harrystyles there is this version...

⤷ hArrysbtch WHAT

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yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, stylesbabie and 492 301 others

yourinstagram THE Don Juan and some indie singer on their first lesson

view all 49 302 comments

harrystyles the star 🐎

harryupdates the shade???

stylesbabie uhhh, they so together

harryshoee do you give lessons to ordinary people?

⤷ yourinstagram during the summer when there's no competition I'm holding a camp. you can enrol with the link in my bio!

⤷ user92 be careful, it's expensive as hell!

⤷ yourinstagram well, we do not take any money from our pupils. we ask for food or money (however much you want) donation! hope that helps, x

harrysmoustache oh, I'm so in love with them

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harryupdates

liked by harrysmoustache and 49 301 others

harryupdates YN AND HARRY SPOTTED HORSE RIDING OUTSIDE OF LONDON!

view all 7 492 others

hArrysbtch oh so we know what he's going to do during the break

harrysmylife 😭that's😭so😭sweet😭

stylesbabie he looks so cute in his little outfit

harryshoee SAVE A HORSE RIDE A COWBOY

harrysmyman unholy thought, unholy

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yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, hArrysbtch and 830 201 others

yourinstagram ❤️❤️❤️

view all 49 201 comments

harrystyles congratulations, darling.

commemt liked by yourinstagram and 68 302 others

harryupdates the support

hArrysbtch we haven't heard from him in months

⤷ harrysmoustache and we've got a prize today for waiting patiently

stylesbabie everyone say: THANK YOU, YN

harrysmylife and everything started because this man has a mind strange enough to start a circus...

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles instagram #harry styles fake ig #harry styles #equestrian!reader

529 notes · View notes

timetoletmyimaginationfly · 2 months

Text

Falling In Love Again

Nanami Kento x Reader

Requested by @patpatspatz . I hope you enjoy! Sorry it took me a bit! It’s been getting busy with school again.

(Song Inspiration: Scott Street by Phoebe Bridgers)

“You alright?” Utahime asked. You quickly wiped your tears and nodded. You rubbed your nose with your sleeve.

“Yeah,” you breathed out and straightened out your body.

“You got the call? I’m here to let you know about your mission,” she said as she sat down next to you.

“I was about to head there.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Just…life.” You stood up and tied your hair up in your usual ponytail. “I’ll be back in a few days I guess.”

“Few days?”

“Since I’m in Tokyo, I might as well have a tiny vacation for myself. See you later.” Utahime watched you walk away. Confused, she stood up to figure out what happened. But when she did, she caught a shine in her eye. Her eyes widened and she picked up a familiar ring on the ground. Anger filled her as she stormed throughout the Kyoto campus.

You thanked the assistant manager and walked towards the area. You already know it’s going to be a rough mission. Your mind is constantly wandering. You’re there but not really there.

“Are you okay?” The deep voice that was in front of you made you jump. You looked up and down at the tall, blonde male. You can sense that he is a sorcerer and you found him interesting with the suit and tie he wore.

“Y-Yeah, I am,” you said quietly. You bowed and introduced yourself to him. He mirrored your movements.

“Nanami Kento,” he said. “So, you’re from the Kyoto school.” Puzzled, you nodded your head. “Did you get notice that this was a joint mission?” Slightly, your eyes widened.

“I-I did not,” you answered. You rubbed your arm, feeling slightly embarrassed. “Sorry, it just hasn’t been a personal good week for me.” You watched him nod, his expression still apparently blank.

“You seem tired,” he said softly. You don’t know why, but his gaze just seemed so intense. You slowly looked away and nodded.

“Like I said, not a good week.”

He stayed close by as you two walked around, finding the culprit of mysterious murders around the construction site. The building was half done, but still a danger zone. You were finally focused. After the first encounter of a weak cursed spirit, you found yourself back in your zone.

“Nanami-san,” you whispered. Nanami looked at you in response. The two of you hid in the hallway. “Three more weak ones.” You closed your eyes for a few more moments before opening them to see Nanami’s calculating ones. “The big one is up one more level.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. You nodded confidently. “Your technique…”

“There’s a certain distance that I can see around me,” you said. “I’m a good support.” You watched the corner of his lips curve up. You caught your breath and for the first time in the week, you felt okay. Even for a moment.

“Then, you must be a good planner,” he said. “How should we go about this?” You smiled and started to list a handful of options and continued from what you and Nanami agreed on.

The two of you watched the veil go down after defeating the curse. It took longer than usual, just as you expected. The sun was already setting and you checked your phone for the time. You saw many missed calls and text messages from Utahime. You sighed, feelings from earlier were back to overwhelm you.

“Did you get hurt?” Nanami asked as he walked towards you.

But you didn’t respond to him. Your eyes remained on your phone. You returned back to how you were from when you two met. Unlike during the mission, you are now distracted, unfocused, and unaware of your surroundings. He couldn’t help but take a quick peek at your phone. He noticed Utahime’s name. And he saw the cap locked messages she sent one after another. Again, he called your name and placed his hand on your shoulder. You jumped back to reality and looked up at him.

“Nanami-san,” you said softly. He could practically see your eyes glisten with tears.

“Are you hurt?” You shook your head before looking at your body. “Your arm.” You nodded and watched the blood trickle down and drip to the floor. Nanami unwrapped his tie from his hand and wrapped your arm to help stop the bleeding.

“Wait! Your tie!” He stayed silent, making sure it was wasn’t too tight.

“Let’s get you checked out,” he said. You nodded. You didn’t have the energy to protest. You followed him in the car that was awaiting for him. “No one came for you?”

“I was going to stay in Tokyo for a few days.” Your eyes widened and you winced in pain. Delayed reaction for sure. “Ouch.”

“We’re not too far from the school.” You nodded, your hand not leaving your arm. Your phone dinged from another text message. It was Utahime again. You sighed, ignoring your friend and looked out the window.

“Okay, all done,” Shoko said with a small smile. You moved your arm, the sharp pain gone and scarless. “Utahime called. Will you be alright?”

“Y-Yeah,” you said.

“Nanami,” Shoko called. Your eyes widened. You looked up and watched him walk towards you two. You didn’t realize he was there the whole time. You held on to his tie tightly in your hand. “Make sure she finds a nice hotel to stay in.” You gave Shoko a look.

“You don’t trust me?”

“I just want you safe, and Utahime was worried. You wouldn’t say anything to her. So, Nanami is staying close by.” Shoko would’ve gave Nanami a stern look to agree, but his quick yes surprised her. Shoko was pretty sure he wouldn’t be flattered with the option.

“Nanami-san, thank you but I’ll be okay,” you said as you hopped off the table. “I will get your tie cleaned up and I’ll return it before I go back to Kyoto.”

You abruptly left and without a word, Nanami followed. You knew he was. Nanami made his presence known. But all the energy you had was gone. Nanami was nothing but kind. You didn’t have the heart to continuously push him away. So you walked side by side with him and let him follow you to the city.

He never said a word. His silence became comfortable to you. You just walked aimlessly around the city. And he never questioned you once.

“I caught my ex-fiancé cheating,” you confessed. “I came home from a mission a week ago and saw heels that weren’t mine. I smelled perfume that I didn’t own. And I heard a woman’s laughter and…more noises. I quietly walked to the bedroom door, it was opened ajar, and end of story.”

Nanami was in shock that you told him. Someone you just met today and yet here you are, telling him what was wrong.

Why did I tell him…?

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. You only nodded in response. Nanami mentally sighed and looked around. He held your shoulder and turned you around. You faced a dim window. People crowded the area inside as they talked, laughed, ate, and drank. “After you.”

“Eh?” When you looked at Nanami, you felt your face heat up. His smile was soft, softening his usual blank expression.

“I had my heart broken once,” he said. “My friend took me here. Thought I do the same for you.”

“Why? We just met.” Nanami shrugged, hands in his pockets.

“I don’t see why not, right?”

“I-I guess not.”

He found a high, square table fitted for two people. He ordered the both of you drinks and food, an entree for him while you opted for an appetizer.

“How long were you with the guy?” Nanami asked.

“About six years,” you answered. “Engaged for not even a year.”

“How old are you?”

“I just turned 25.” Nanami nodded.

“So, your first relationship?” You nodded this time.

“Nanami-san,” you called. He looked at you and hummed in response. “How long was your relationship? Or maybe your longest? Did you have multiple relationships? Did you have to do the break up?” Your curiosity took over. Nanami looked at you with adoration.

“I just had one relationship. She broke up with me a few years ago and we’ve been dating for almost four years,” he answered. You gave him a pouty look. “She wasn’t a sorcerer and she hated that I was out most of the time.”

“Mine was too,” you said. “And he took advantage of it.” Elbows on the table, your palms rested on your cheeks. You looked at Nanami with sad eyes. “Love sucks.” Nanami picked up his drink and took a small sip.

“It does.”

“Nanami-san?” He looked at you. And when he did, he felt his heart skip a beat for the first in three years. You gave him a genuine smile. “Thank you for this.” He felt his voice in the back of his throat. So in response, he gave you a smile and nodded. He mentally thanked the dim lights that you couldn’t see the slight blush to his face.

“You’re welcome.”

“Do you do joint missions often?” He shook his head. “I’m glad my first one was with you then. I think we make a pretty good team! What do you think?”

“I think so, too.” You checked the time on your watch.

“I should check in a hotel soon,” you said.

“I have an extra room.” You looked at him with wide eyes before you shook your head.

“I-I can’t intrude, Nanami-san,” you said, your voice slightly shaking.

“It’s for a few days right? I don’t mind,” he said reassuringly. He didn’t know where it came from. Nanami inviting you to stay at his place. A broken-hearted stranger.

“Are you usually this kind to strangers?” you asked with a giggle as you swirled your drink in your cup.

“Technically, we’re not strangers anymore,” Nanami replied with a slight smirk. You blushed slightly. Nanami let out a small chuckle. “May the one who was broken-hearted help the current broken-hearted.” You raises your glass slightly.

“To shitty love?” Nanami raises his glass yet shook his head.

“To new love.”

You decided to clink his glass to those words. It was probably one of the few things that seemed right. So far, anything related to Nanami Kento felt right.

“WHAT?!” you pulled away from your cell phone from Utahime’s screaming. You sat on the balcony of Nanami’s apartment. After dinner, you quickly shopped for necessities after dinner. And he gave you a tour before the two of you went in separate bathrooms to shower. “Okay, okay. Look. Can you please tell me everything from the beginning? Please? As your best friend?” You sighed and nodded.

“It might take a while.”

“Wait, let’s get Shoko in this call.”

Once the three way call started, you began your story. You started from a month after the proposal when your ex became distant and secretive around you. You told them the things he did, what you found and speculated, up until last week when you caught him in the act. Profanities flooded your ears that you pulled the phone away from your ear.

“But are you okay? You dealt with it on your own,” Utahime said worriedly.

“I wish you told us earlier,” Shoko added. “I thought you guys were doing great.”

You sniffled and wiped your tears away. A soft knock was heard behind you. Nanami stood there with a tray that held two tea cups. You opened the door and quietly, he joined you, sitting on the empty seat. Nanami pulled a small packet of tissues from his pocket and handed it to you. You mouthed him a ‘thank you’ and he nodded back in response.

“After today, I am better than I thought I would be,” you said.

“Did Nanami accompany you today?” Shoko asked.

“Oh, Nanami was with you during the mission! That makes sense,” Utahime said.

“What does?” Shoko asked.

“She’s residing in the Nanami Kento resort for the next few days she’s in Tokyo.” You blushed. You slowly moved your eyes to Nanami who stared ahead at the city skyline. Before he looked back at you, you averted your eyes.

“Odd of him but that’s good,” Shoko said and yawned. “Alright, fill me in on anything else. I’m going to sleep.” Utahime called your name.

“Promise me that you’ll be okay.”

“I promise.”

“And take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

You and Nanami were alone. No phone in hand. Just the two of you sipping on tea while staring at the city skyline. It was content silence. And you didn’t mind it. You figured that you’ll take advantage of the silence with him to keep your mind at peace.

Gojo looked at Nanami as he was on the phone. He heard ‘joint mission’ often, which brought the white-haired man curiosity. He knew Nanami as a man who prefers to work alone. But for the past couple of months, he would hear ‘joint mission’ every now and then, making him curious as ever. So by the next day, he decided to confront him. But he was stopped when he saw the usual blank expression from the blonde male with a smile. His eyes widened when he watched him laugh. With a woman! He quietly walked backwards, eyes remaining on Nanami before he turned around and ran to find Shoko.

“Nanamin!” he yelled once he barged inside. Shoko was healing a young sorcerer. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“What about him?” she asked.

“He’s with a girl! She’s cute! He’s with a cute girl!”

“Oh yeah, I forgot she’s here today.” When Shoko briefly talked about you, Gojo nodded. “Leave them alone. You’ll just be asking for it.”

You smiled when Nanami looked at you with surprise. He noticed the change in uniform. From a purple and blue kimono, you wore a fitted dark purple tank top with a high neck and black shorts. You wore a black belt with small pockets to the side and a holster holding your katanas. You wore black gloves and knee high black boots. Yet, you kept your purple bow on your hair when you tied it up.

“So I work at both schools,” you answered. “After the move, the travel gets too much. At least twice a month I have to go to Kyoto.”

“You seem happier,” he said. “You’re like a different person.”

“Is that a bad thing, Nanami-san?” you asked teasingly. Nanami shook his head. “Thank you again for helping me move my things.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied. Nanami looked at his phone and nodded. “Ijichi-san is here. We should go.”

Nanami placed his hand on the small of your back. You smiled and it made him relaxed. He opened the back door for you, and you thanked him as he entered the car.

“Nanami-san,” you called. He hummed in response, his eyes focused on you. “Let’s have dinner after this.”

“Okay. Did you want Ieiri-san and Iori-san to come too?” Nanami asked. To his surprise, you shook your head. “You sure?”

“I’m sure,” you answered. “I see them pretty often.”

And after the fairly easy mission, you followed Nanami to the restaurant of his choice. You smiled widely. He took you back to the place where you first met. He opened the door for you and you happily thanked him.

“Now, you should order an entree from them,” Nanami suggested. You smiled.

“What do you suggest, Nanami-san?” you asked. “Should we order a bottle of wine? I’m in the mood for red.”

“Perfect choice. Do you like steak?”

“I love steak! Nanami-san, be lucky that I’m not a picky eater.” When the waiter arrived, Nanami ordered the drinks, appetizer, and entrees. You giggled, watching Nanami pour the two glasses of wine. “Feels like we’re on a date, Nanami-san.” You could feel your cheeks slightly warm up.

“It does, doesn’t it?” he replied with a small smile. “Have you thought about dating again.” He asked you slowly and carefully. As he asked, he paid close attention to your expressions. He didn’t want to hurt you. But he was relieved when you gave him a small smile.

“I don’t know if I’m ready but I probably won’t know if I don’t start, right?”

“Probably.” You raised your glass and Nanami followed.

“Cheers to new beginnings,” you said happily. He clinked glasses with you. “If you don’t mind, can I count this as a date?” Nanami felt his face warm up immediately. And automatically, his smile became larger.

“Only if you allow me to properly take you out on a second date. I—I can…what I mean to say is…” Nanami cleared his throat and loosened his tie. “Allow me to show you how well you should be treated and that, if your view on love is destroyed, I’ll have you believe that it’s a beautiful thing.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t address you to Nanami-san then. Is Kento okay?”

“More than okay.” You felt butterflies in your stomach. Maybe it was the brightened expression on his face? Or maybe the slight joy in his tone? “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” you answered softly. “My stomach did flips. In a good way.” His chuckle, oh my gosh his chuckle, it made your heart race.

“Good.”

Utahime shook you hard when you told her about your dates with Nanami. After the fifth date you two had the night before, you couldn’t help but to finally catch up with her.

“Utahime!!” you yelled to stop her shaking.

“You so love him!” she exclaimed excitedly.

“We’re not even official,” you mumbled. You held your warm cheeks in your hands.

“So? Nanami is such a sweetheart,” she said dreamingly. “If only more men were like him. But despite that, it doesn’t matter! Did you kiss him yet?”

“O-On the cheek.”

“Boring! Look, love is weird. It’s different for everyone.”

“But, what if he falls for someone else while I—“ The sudden insecure feelings started to rise. As your feelings for Nanami grew, so did your insecurities.

“Nanami will listen to you. Talk to him,” she said. “Speaking of…” You watched her squint. You turned around and your eyes widened.

“Kento…” Nanami smiled as he walked closer to the two of you. He greeted you both.

“Can I steal her?” he asked Utahime.

“Of course you can!” Utahime replied with a big smile on her face. “See you soon!” Before you said anything, she scurried away. Your heart was racing now that you and Nanami were alone. You turned to face him.

“Do you usually wear your kimono when you’re in Kyoto?” he asked curiously. You nodded. “It looks beautiful.”

“T-Thank you, Kento. I-Isn’t it your day off?”

“It is. I just wanted to see you.” You couldn’t help but giggle lightly.

“We saw each other last night,” you stated. Nanami watched your cheeks blush into a faint pink. He raised his arm and gently caressed your cheek.

“I know,” he said. “I couldn’t help myself. I love seeing your beautiful face.” He softly chuckled. “I want to spend time with you when you finish work. Maybe we could roam around Kyoto. And I’ll bring you home.”

“I would love that. I have paper work to fill out. Keep me company?”

“Of course, sweetheart. That’s what I planned to do.” He stood by side and held your hand, intertwining his fingers to yours. He slightly turned to your direction. “Lead the way.”

You were definitely more distracted with Nanami sitting nearby. You caught yourself looking up after filling out half of your paperwork every time. And every time you did, Nanami sat there comfortably while reading the paper. He turns the page, you quickly look away. The sound of his voice calling your name made you jump. And what he said made your world go round.

“I like you. A lot. Maybe even more than like you.” When you looked at him, his eyes remained on the paper. But you caught the pink in the tip of his ears.

“W-What’s more than like?” you asked slowly and curiously. You looked away but you listened to his movements. He stood up and you can see him walk closer to you, his shadow towering over you.

“I don’t want to say anything that makes you uncomfortable, sweetheart,” he said. “I know what I’m sure of. And I can wait for you to be sure.” Your body froze.

“How long are you willing to wait? Because …I’m scared.” A small amount of tears started to blur your vision, but you held them in.

“I know, sweetheart.” Slowly, he curled a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Have I done anything wrong?” You shook your head. “If I do, tell me. Okay?”

“I don’t even think you can do anything wrong. You’re perfect. And that’s what’s scary. You can have anyone you want.” Softly, Nanami gave you a kiss.

“You’re perfect. And the one I want is you. I can wait, sweetheart. Starting today, you are officially mine. If you have me.”

“I do want you, Kento. But the more I like you, the more insecure I get.”

“And the more I can show you how much I want you. I’m not going to leave you. I’ve shown two months of it and I’ll never stop.” You couldn’t find your voice, so you nodded. Nanami smiled and kissed your forehead. “Oh, I forgot.” You watched him reach inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a bow for your hair that matched his tie. “I thought it be cute if we match every now and then. I know it’s not your style.”

“I-I love it,” you said with a large smile on your face. You undid your hair with your purple bow and replaced it with his. “What do you think?” Nanami cupped your chin with his fingers. He looked at you lovingly and leaned in to kiss you softly on the lips. He left you in a daze.

“Beautiful.”

You couldn’t help but keep your hand on your stomach where you continuously had the worst gut wrenching feeling. You stared at your phone. Nanami’s message was letting you know that he had an emergency mission to attend to in Shibuya while you, Utahime, and the students were south of Kyoto. He never read your message back after you replied to him to be safe. And he likes to leave his read receipts on for you so you know he’s seen your message.

But after hearing Mechamaru’s message, you remained quiet. Praying for the train to hurry.

“It’s Nanami,” Utahime said. “He’ll be okay.”

“Shoko hasn’t seen him yet,” you said. “Ijichi-san and a few other sorcerers are injured.”

And once you all arrived, you went separate ways.

“Kento! Kento!” you called. You held in your tears. “Kento…” You closed your eyes, hoping to see him somewhere. You somehow got a glimpse. His figures blurred. His body lying on the ground. “Kento!”

You pulled your bow tie out of your hair. Your cursed energy flowing through it as you closed your eyes, letting your tears fall.

You’re alive. You’re alive. Kento, don’t leave me.

You gasped. He laid lifeless on the ground, body half burnt. You barely noticed him breathing. But the extremely subtle raise of his chest was good enough for you. You noticed the subway. The exact location. Once you opened your eyes, you ran for your life.

The gasped at the sight of the area. All of the civilians and cursed that were killed. You couldn’t help but cry again. Cry for the innocent people who lost their lives.

But now, your focus was somewhere else. You ran around the subway station in Shibuya. You noticed a couple of sorcerers from the Tokyo School as well. You found one carrying an unconscious Maki. You were relieved. She’s still alive.

“Kento! Kento…please…” When you turned a corner, you gasped. The amount of cursed killed laid around the area. “Kento!” You heard a voice so familiar. You ran towards the source of the voice. You gasped.

Nanami laid there, lying in pain. His breathing was shallow and eye lids half open. You knelt down next to him. Your body shook. All he did was give you a small smile. You looked at his body.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” he said and reached out slowly to hold your hand. “I’m here.”

“I thought…I thought—“

“How was your mission?” he asked weakly and tiredly.

“Idiot! Don’t ask me how my mission was when you’re about to die!” Nanami smiled. He saw your bow tie loose and wrapped around your hand.

“That’s how you found me?” You nodded. “That’s amazing.”

“L-Let’s bring you to Shoko. Can you even stand?” Nanami nodded. “Let me help you.” You held his hands and gently pulled him up so he was sitting. Nanami groaned. He was exhausted. But one look at you just helped him stay awake. Thinking he was going to die earlier, he was worried. He didn’t want you to worry.

“Sweetheart.” You looked at him with teary eyes. Nanami reached out to your face and wiped your tears away with his thumb. “I love you.” More tears fell and you hugged him.

“I love you, too. So let’s hurry up and get you healed.”

It was the middle of winter. The snow in Tokyo grew heavier. You laid down next to Nanami in his bed. One hand held his book while his free arm was wrapped around your shoulders. Your head rested on his chest while you scrolled through your phone.

“Kento, I’m getting hungry,” you said and looked up at him. You watched him smile. He wore an eyepatch and half his body was scarred through the burns. His hair fully grew back. And for a while, he feared that you would leave him.

“What would you like, my love?” he asked as he closed his book. You put your phone down and climbed on top of him and hugged him tightly as you straddled his lap.

“Soup and garlic bread.” You can feel the calming vibrations of his chest as he caressed your hair. You sighed in content and smiled. “Kento?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Thank you for loving me,” you said and raised your head so you could look at him. You cupped his face and caressed his cheeks with your thumbs. “I never thought falling in love again would be better.” Nanami held your left wrist and brought it to his lips to kiss it.

“I fall in love with you more every single day, my love. And I want my love for you to grow forever.”

#nanami x reader #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami fanfic #nanami #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk #nanami jjk #nanami fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff

146 notes · View notes

infiniteimaginings · 2 months

Note

hello! can i request a max thunderman fic where he falls in love with a girl who seems like a goody two shoes but can be casually manipulative in a way nobody notices? thank you!

Sweet Deception (Max Thuderman x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Max doesn't like the reader because she's similar to Phoebe. A goody two shoes, follows the rules, never breaks curfew. His locker is unfortunately next to hers and he has a few classes with the reader so he hears snippets of her conversations. These conversations peak his interest, not because of the subject, but because of how she responds within them. You intrigue him. Pronouns: She/Her, You/Yours Warnings: Manipulative words, manipulation tactics. Word Count: 2.9k A/N: Sorry that this took a week lol, I literally did everything but write this TvT. I think this is casually manipulative, I had to research subtle manipulation. Also, I focused more on the manipulation aspect so he isn't like, head over heels in love with her. I hope that's okay.

Max Thunderman walked up the stairs of his lair in the basement, making his way to the kitchen. When he looked over he saw Phoebe and you, sitting and watching tv. The two of you heard his footsteps and turned to face him. His face contorted in disgust at how in sync the two girls facing him were, “Ugh.” He grunted, rolling his eyes and walking to the kitchen area.

Phoebe crinkled her brows as she crossed her arms, “What are you grunting about?” She asked him, not moving from her spot, you looking over as well, letting out an inaudible sigh. Max grabbed a drink from the fridge and smiled sarcastically at her, “When I see you and your practical carbon copy,” He spoke, leaning his back on the kitchen island, “I find the need to vomit.” He told her, nodding his head with the scrunch of his nose. Phoebe stuck her tongue out to him childishly, Max doing the same and hopping up the steps and kicking the button to his lair.

You bit the inside of your cheek, adjusting yourself on the couch. “Phoebe,” You said her name, causing her to turn back to you. “I actually have other things to do today, so if we aren’t doing anything I’m just gonna go.” You told her, standing up. The girl stood and awkwardly smiled, nodding, “Yeah! Of course, sorry.” She said apologetically, rubbing the back of her neck. She opened the door for you and you said your goodbyes, giving her a small hug and walking away, typing on your phone.

Phoebe closed the front door and breathed out a puff of air, causing her hair to move out of her face. Max still stood on the platform, his lair door open as he looked at the doorway where Phoebe stood with an expression Phoebe couldn’t understand. When the girl looked to her twin brother she walked a little closer, contemplating even asking the question she wanted to ask. The quirking up of his eyebrow caused her to just shake her head to herself, “Max, do you think I’m boring?” She asked him, brushing her hair out of her face. Max stayed standing on the platform as he thought about it, bottled drink in his hand. He tilted his head a bit, “Yeah.” He shrugged, sliding down to his lair, the door closing and leaving Phoebe with an annoyed expression. She poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue, “Of course.” She mumbled to herself blankly, dropping her hands to her sides as she walked up the stairs to her room.

The very next day at Hiddenville High, Max hoped he had gotten to school early enough to be able to miss you later on going to your locker. Your locker was right next to his and he didn’t enjoy the people he had the displeasure of meeting anywhere near his locker. He reached the locker with a relieved smile, you weren’t there, you must not be at school yet. He put in his combination, shuffling through the small space for a few specific items.

He was enjoying the silence until you walked up with your perky blonde friend Cherry Seinfeld, your expression was fairly neutral but Cherrys had her typical bright smile. When you reached your locker, Max wanted to bang his head into his own, not wanting to hear Cherrys high pitched laugh. This day though, Cherry wasn’t laughing, he slightly tuned into you guys’s conversation.

Cherrys hair bounced with her steps, her hands behind her back, “Did you remember to bring the folder of ideas?” She asked, occasionally looking into your locker, believing you were going to pull it out. You stopped shuffling around in your locker as you turned to her, blinking your eyes. “I didn’t know you needed it.” You told her, tilting your head as your brows knitted together. The blonde's smile dropped a bit as her hands landed to her sides, “I asked you to bring it today, last week.” She reminded you, moving her head with her words. You shook your head, turning back to your locker and grabbing a journal. You hummed to her comment, “You should’ve reminded me yesterday if it was so important for today.” You told her, moving a few magnets on the inside of your locker.

Cherry frowned, playing with her fingernails and looking down, “Well, I didn’t remember until today.” She slightly mumbled. You closed your locker, it closed with a slightly loud bang that caused Cherry to jump a bit. You turned around to her and put a hand on her shoulder, a small sympathetic pout on your face, “Well, you do tend to be a bit forgetful.” You said sweetly, the comment making Cherry nod sadly a little bit, but Max looked at the back of his locker with confusion when hearing the words. You nodded, painting a sweet smile on your face, “It’s okay though!” You reassured, patting her shoulder. “I’ll stop by my house at lunch and grab it.” You told her, causing the girl in front of you to light up with a smile. She clasped her hands together happily, “Thank you, and I’m sorry for not reminding you.” She told you, “It’s no problem, don’t worry.” You responded, walking off to your class.

Cherry had a free period for first period so she hung by her locker, texting a few of her friends to see what to do after school. Max closed his locker and leaned on it, looking intently at Cherry. The blonde felt his stare and looked over, “Hi Max!” She greeted, with a smile, looking back down. Though she greeted him, he still looked at her. She pursed her lips and cleared her throat, eyes flickering up to him as she typed. She finished her message and put her phone into her back pocket. “Well, I should get go-” Cherry began, but she was stopped before she could even pick her foot up to take the first step to her next destination.

Max looked at her seriously, arms crossed, “What she said was kind of mean,” He said, referring to you, standing straighter, “and that’s coming from me.” He finished his sentence, slightly bewildered that he even spoke on it. Cherry was confused about what he was talking about and it showed easily on her face. Max nodded, “When she said you’re forgetful. She forgot to bring something and then said it was because you forgot to remind her. That was rude.” A small breath of a chuckle escaping his lips when apparently Cherry wasn’t getting it.

The girl crossed her own arms, head tilted, her blonde curls pooling over her shoulder, “Were you eavesdropping on us?” She asked him with her lips slightly poked out, eyes gently narrowed.

Max looked at her blankly, one of his hands pointing to the lockers they were right next to. “You guys were talking an inch away from me and my locker, I had no choice.” He stated, stopping himself from rolling his eyes. Cherry dropped her arms and shook her head, a gentle smile coming back to her face. “Well, it wasn’t mean.” She claimed, “She was right, I should’ve reminded her, a week is a long time for anyone to remember to bring anything.” Cherry defended you, which confused Max. Before the brunette could get a word in, someone walked past Cherry, gesturing her to follow and she did just that, leaving Max alone to his thoughts.

Max decided to keep a closer eye on you and your interactions, he tends to try to ignore you but your recent conversations catch his attention. He’s taken note that you don’t just do this type of thing with Phoebe and Cherry, you do it with everyone.

One day, Max was sitting at a table with his friends during lunch, talking about nothing important. At the next table over, you sat alone, scribbling in a notebook.

A boy named Tyler had walked up to you, clearly distressed. You were looking through your notebook, eating, your gaze only flickering up to him for a moment. “Hi Tyler.” You greeted, writing a few things in the journal. He sat across from you, adjusting the collar of his shirt nervously which caused you to put your pen down and look at him with soft eyes. “You okay?” You asked, folding your hands over one another, your voice taking him out of his own head.

Max heard your voice and slightly listened to your conversation, still giving responses to his friends.

Tylers eyes widened and he nodded before shaking his head. You looked at him curiously, as if telling him to go on with why he wasn’t. Tyler took a deep breath, “I know we talked about this earlier but, I still feel weird about it.” He spoke slightly, the words making your lips thin into a line before folding back out, Tyler didn’t notice. “How so?” You asked politely, placing your hands into your lap. The boy rubbed the back of his neck, “I just feel we aren’t really friends anymore since you hang out with everyone else more than me. I feel a little neglected.” He spoke, waving his hands around nervously. You nodded in understanding, “Yeah, I understand that.” You told him gently, moving yourself a bit to get more comfortable. “But,” you began, “We had this conversation earlier, yeah?” You asked him to which he nodded, his hands gripping the edge of the table. You nodded, “Yeah, we did. I said I’m sorry and you forgave me.” You told him and he looked down, he knew you said sorry, but he still felt upset about it. “If you didn’t forgive me and were still hurt, why did you say you forgave me?” You asked him and Tyler gently scratched his head. He eventually sighed, “Yeah, you’re right. Maybe I’m just still worked up.” He suggested to which you looked at him with big eyes, “If you think so, then sure.” You spoke, reaching out and patting his hand that stayed on the table.

Max was listening to the conversation, his jaw slightly dropped as his eyes widened slightly, ‘What?’ He thought to himself, utterly confused. How was it possible that you could get other people to just blame themselves instead of you? That piqued Max’s interest far more than he thought you could.

He watched you more closely, you said these things so easily, so kindly that people just let you. He’s heard so many to the point Max was getting fed up with the people around you, it was absurd how no one noticed. It might’ve drawn him to you, but your friends had to be idiots.

You were talking to Flunky about some sort of idea he presented to the student council and it went badly, he told you that you said the idea would work but you simply frowned, brows pushing together, confusion written over your face. Max heard a phrase he quickly got used to hearing, "I don’t think I said that specifically, are you sure you're remembering correctly?” When Flunky started doubting himself you would side hug him with a soft smile. You would say “It’s okay, you just misunderstood me. Misunderstandings happen all the time.” As if you didn’t contribute to his downfall to the student council.

Max has heard, “I don't think you're seeing the situation clearly. Maybe you should take a step back and think about it.", "I didn't mean to upset you, I was just being honest.”, “You’re so negative, you should be more positive.” All with a bright smile on your face and everyone would just smile back, say you’re right and move along as if you didn’t just completely turn the situation around back on them. He’s never seen someone so, ‘good’, act in such a way, he couldn’t quite explain his feelings on it.

Enough was enough for Max, so one day before the last period bell rang he grabbed you by your arm and gently pulled you behind the staircase. You weren’t exactly shocked by who it was so you didn’t struggle, you walked along with him, asking a small, ‘Where are we going?’ which was ignored until you guys were under the stairs. You looked around a bit, an amused smile on your face, “Hello to you too Max.” You lightly chuckled but Max’s face was stone cold, only a small stem of light reflected in the brown of his eyes.

“You’re confusing.” He stated, arms crossed and you genuinely laughed. You stopped laughing, clearing your throat when you saw his face, “Okay, you’re serious.” You spoke, hiding your mouth with your hand before dropping it back down to your side. Your eyes blinked at him, “How am I confusing?” You asked, a small smile on your face, your brow raised. Max smirked, “I am so glad you asked!” He said with bright eyes before his expression dropped back into blankness, “You’ll say something with your sweet voice, but it’s so hurtful to other people.” Max told you, pointing at you. You nodded gently, arms still at your sides, your head slightly tilted to the side as you spoke, “It’s interesting to me that you perceive my words in that type of light.” You told him, your bottom lip slightly poking out.

Max inhaled sharply before letting out a deep exhale, “It’s been clear that everyone around you is blinded by your displays.” He said, hand waving in the air to gesture to you, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue, “I’m not.” He spoke bluntly, putting his hand down. He then licked his lips, looking around slightly before locking eyes with your amused expression, “Okay, I’ll say it outright since no one else has.” He spoke, walking closer to you, slightly leaning forward to gently tower you. “You’re mean, and you’re borderline evil.” He stated, his lips in a line, pulling back, “And for the second time within the past two weeks, that’s coming from me. “ He mumbled, surprised he’s saying such things.

You sighed, smiling a bit, “Do you feel better?” You asked him, noticing how his shoulders relaxed after saying it. He didn’t respond which made your smile slip a bit before it was placed right back, “I think it’s,” She paused, trying to find the right words and Max tilted his head. Were you stumped because you’ve been caught? You shook your head, disregarding your last thought, “I don’t think I’m evil.” You said simply, your eyes big and bright, but Max huffed a laugh at the comment. He smirked ever so slightly, breaking his majorly serious facade, “Your words are covered in venom but it’s like you manipulate everyone into only seeing honey dripping from them.” He told you, fingers scratching at his eyebrow as he tried to think about all your words. “You're some sort of wolf in sheep's clothing, you bite when someone gets too close to something you don't like.” He continued on, the phrasing causing your smile to drop completely. You bit your tongue slightly before speaking, “I’m sorry you think that.” You spoke quietly, the tone of your voice made Max create eye contact with you.

He smiled, smiled at you. “I thought you were insufferable,” He spoke about prior moments, “but, you interest me more and more everyday.” He told you, this made your eyes narrow in confusion. “I’m sorry?” You asked him, crinkling your brows, your nose scrunched and your mouth twisted. Max nodded, smiling, crossing his arms, “I just told you about how your words are manipulative and responded with ‘I’m sorry you think that’ as if it’s my fault. You’re doing it to me!” He laughed, he didn’t even seem mad about it. “You’re so interesting, I just can't stop myself from listening when you talk to people.” He told her, leaning on the back wall. Your tongue touched the bottom of the top row of your teeth as you looked away in disbelief, “You’re definitely looking into what I say too much, but you find it…?” You paused, leaning on the opposing wall, foot balancing you on the wall. He continued the sentence for you, “Intriguing. I find you intriguing.” He told you, his smile turned into his typical smirk.

Your expression softened, “So, you like me?” You asked bluntly, causing the boy to glare at you. “I said you interest me, you do things that make it so I can’t focus on other things.” He explained, rolling his neck a bit and you nodded. “Right, you totally like me.” You teased, “Quit it.” He responded, rolling his eyes. You shook your head and began walking into the hallway, Max following. “If I’m so…’interesting’,” You quoted, turning to him, “you can meet me after this next class that we’re late to, and we can talk more then.” You finished your sentence and he looked over to you boredly. You guys were by your lockers so he unlocked his and shrugged, “Okay.” he said, shuffling in his locker as if he were busy. You began to walk away with a grin, waving, “Bye Max.” You told him, walking into your class late.

Max was staring at the back of his locker with a matching grin, soon putting his head down on the bottom of his locker, a small flush on his face. He was definitely going to meet you after this last class.

#max thunderman #max thunderman x reader #nickelodeon x reader #nickelodeon #x reader #fanfiction #max thunderman fanfiction #ao3 #the thundermans x reader #the thundermans

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bitethehnd · 26 days

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Hii, love your writting! ❤️❤️ Can i request one where JB and reader are seen kissing at a party and fans freak out on social media and the next day they look at the posts together?

₊˚⊹ ʚɞ style !

pairing : julien baker x fem!reader

synopsis : after a fun night out celebrating the boys’ new album, you and julien wake up to madness

cw : really nothing, just fluff and an accidental hard launch. some sexual innuendos, actress!reader because i said so, femme!reader, phoebe being a menace

you were a fairly well-known actress, julien was a fairly well-known singer. the two of you should have probably known to be more cautious if you didn't want your business showcased all over enews, but neither of you were thinking about that. the boys had just released their album 'the record' last night at midnight. it had done very well on the charts so far, and there was nowhere to go but up from there. you were insanely proud of the women you loved and all of you were celebrating their achievement.

muna had joined you and the boys at the bar you were at. the four of you all sprouted grins as you stood up to greet them. you pulled jo's girlfriend, kelli, in for a long hug.

"hi, baby," kelli said into the hug. you smiled brightly and kissed her cheek.

"thank you for coming, kells. i know it means the world to them that you're all here," you said sweetly as you pulled away.

"are you kidding me? jo wouldn't shut up about seeing them all week." you and kelli started to giggle loudly. jo and julien turned around in amusement at the sound.

"and what are you ladies laughing about?" jo asked sarcastically and raised one eyebrow. julien walked up to you and wrapped one arm around your waist securely, a giddy smile on her face. it made you practically beam to see her so happy.

"i was just telling kelli my elaborate plan to steal her away from you. you better watch out, jo," you winked at the curly-haired woman with a smug smile. jo fake gasped and pulled kelli away from you. the four of you all started to laugh loudly your antics.

"who's ready to party?!" phoebe suddenly yelled over the loud music. you all started hollering and made your way to the bar top. some ordered drinks, but you and julien opted for soda instead. she was sober and you had decided when you two got serious that you wouldn't drink around her. she insisted that it was fine and it didn't bother her in the slightest, but you stuck with your decision. you were sober in spirit for her.

as the drinks were downed, all of you made your way to the dance floor. you cheered in delight as a rihanna song came on, pulling julien to dance with you.

"babyyy," julien whined, "you know i can't dance."

"anyone can dance, jules. now c'mon, just follow my lead," you said and placed her hands on your hips. you guided her movements, instructing her to move her hips in sync with yours. you put your arms around her neck as your bodies got closer together.

julien leaned up and burrowed her head in the crook of your neck, sucking marks onto the delicate skin. you giggled softly at her actions, moving your torso right up against hers. at that point, you two were practically grinding on each other. you could feel the outline of her abs through her button up shirt, and she was right at eye level with your cleavage that was probably spilling out of your top.

neither of you were thinking about anything other than each other, so you failed to see the woman that was recording you sitting at the bar.

after about ten minutes of dancing, you pulled julien's face away from your neck and told her you needed a drink. she, of course, followed you to the bar and ordered a cherry coke for you.

the bartender filled up the glass for you and slid it across the bar. you took a long sip from the straw as julien watched you. she took the drink from your hands and did the same. you sat down on a stool, and she moved to stand in between your legs. you placed the drink down and wrapped your arms around her neck, her pulling you by the waist to get you closer.

"have i told you how proud i am of you?" you asked her as you played with her hair. she let out a soft chuckle.

"have i told you how beautiful you are?" she countered with a smug smile. you laughed loudly and slapped her on the shoulder.

you leaned in to give her a sweet kiss. she immediately responded, kissing you back passionately and gliding her tongue along your bottom lip. you gave her access, letting her tongue into your mouth. you two made out for a few minutes before phoebe came into sight and wolf whistled loudly. you laughed and julien just flipped her off. that night was perfect.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

the next morning, you and julien woke up to phoebe banging on the guest room door. the two of you and lucy decided to stay in the blonde’s apartment, which in hindsight was a bad idea. phoebe stayed up all hours of the night doing god knows what and woke the two of you up so early.

“phoebe! cut it out!” julien whined and rolled over, shoving her head under a pillow. the door practically busted open and phoebe came running in.

“guys, oh my god. you have to see this,” the older woman said and almost threw her phone at you.

you sighed and took her phone from her hands, the blonde bouncing on her feet anxiously. what could have made her so worked up? you didn’t know.

phoebe’s phone was opened to twitter. the tweets on her homepage were filled with videos and pictures of you and julien from last night. your eyes practically bulged out of your head as you scrolled.

“oh my god, julien, get up,” you said with a hardy laugh. the dirty blonde rolled over and glanced over your shoulder at the phone. her jaw was slack and she had a horrified look on her face. phoebe came and sat next to you on the bed as the three of you saw the leaked photos.

“this is…” julien trialed off and tilted her head.

“kinda funny…” you said monotonously before looking over at your lover and bursting out laughing. phoebe joined you in the giggles as julien looked at you guys like you grew three heads.

“guys! it’s not funny!” julien tried to reason, but she herself was starting to crack up.

“it’s funny. like, really funny,” you let out through your laughter. it sucked that someone had invaded your privacy, but the two of you were making out in the middle of a bar, so really it was your fault.

“it’s julien’s fault for practically fucking you in public,” phoebe shrugged.

“i was not!” julien exclaimed dramatically and hit phoebe with a pillow. the blonde fake gasped and hit her back. you were stuck in the middle of their childish fighting, trying to get out of the way of the flying objects.

“can you guys shut the fuck up! some of us would like to sleep!” lucy suddenly yelled from her bed down the hall.

“sorry, luce!” you yelled back.

“alright, get the fuck out, bridgers,” julien said and pointed a finger at the blonde.

“fine, baker,” she sassily responded before taking her phone and walking out of the door.

you and julien looked at each other as she shut the door, soft smiles on your faces. you hugged julien and gave her a kiss on the forehead, she cuddled into your chest.

“do you think we should tell people we’ve been together for two years?” julien asked jokingly as she looked up at you. it was surprising that you guys managed to keep your relationship a secret for so long.

“do you think we should tell people we’re engaged?” you joked back as you two fell into laughter again.

the rest of the morning was spent scrolling on social media to see people’s reactions. most were surprised and overjoyed, and some said they knew all along. which was obviously a sham because the two of you were ‘just friends’ to the public until now.

the tiktok edits made you blush and people’s shocked tweets made the two of you smile. after a while, you two decided to post an instagram story to your profile. the picture was the two of your hands laced together. julien’s unique tattoos made it obvious it was her, but the real surprise came from the diamond ring proudly placed on your ring finger. let’s just say twitter had another field day after that.

#bitethehnd #julien baker x reader #julien baker x you #julien baker au #julien baker fanfic #boygenius x reader #boygenius fanfic #muna fanfic #muna x reader #sapphic #wlw #lesbian #bisexual

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outofmydepthatapublicbeach · 1 month

Text

to fall in deeper - Julien Baker x lacy!reader

jj chats: this has been one of the longest things ive written on this account and i am very proud of it!!! i hope this lives up to any expectations!!! also i recommend reading the first part before reading this it is linked here!

word count: almost 2000!!!

warnings: RPF, use of y/n, reader is a musician/famous, julien is kinda mean, someone passes out (not the reader, the boys or muna), reader calls julien 'jay'.

inspired by the request: i lovvved your love Julien fic based on lacy SO much!!! you’re crazy talented <3 would you consider writing more parts of it? 🎀🩷 like maybe how julien falls more and more in love and maybe an eventual angry love confession from julien, and their first date/kiss?

feedback is encouraged and i'd love to get some just please be kind!!!

When MUNA went on tour, they asked their dear friends to perform as openers. It was on billboards and spread across social media: “Boygenius and (Y/N): openers for The Greatest Band in the World”. All parties were ebullient, another few months of music, laughter, and fun. Everyone except Julien Baker, Julien wasn’t pleased when she found out you were the other opener. She despised the feeling she got in her gut when your name was mentioned, she couldn’t decide what it meant. She was torn between it being contempt or admiration. She didn’t like not knowing, she didn’t like the fact she couldn’t figure you out, let alone figure out her own feelings for you.

So far the tour had been faring well. There were huge crowds showing up every night, all screaming out the lyrics to their favorite MUNA hits. Everything was going well, until August 6th, a Friday night. It was exceptionally hot and it was starting to take a toll on the musicians. However they were all pushing through, they had loud fans backstage that gave them some relief from the heat and could basically get away with no shirt on stage. So far, the night was going well, besides the heat. Lucy and Julien sat in front of a large fan, while Phoebe and you stood in front of another one. MUNA was performing on stage, while you all waited until the last song, “Silk Chiffon” . It was always a nice surprise to the fans when you four came bobbing up on stage singing along, dancing with one another.

Phoebe sighed, turning towards you “Want to go back with me to get some water?”

Your eyes darted to the right, where your water bottle stood proud and tall, still about half full. “No Pheobs I’m okay! I’ll walk with you though!”

“Oh no dude you’re good,” The platinum blond turned to Lucy and proposed the same question.

“Yeah my water ran out like 5 minutes ago,” Lucy hopped up from her seat, moving towards an already upright Phoebe who was wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, sweat droplets rolling off. “Be right back guys!”

Before they turned the corner you checked the time and yelled to the singers “I think there's only two more songs till Silk Chiffon so hurry!” Lucy and Phoebe nodded to you and continued their walk to wherever they were storing the water bottles. Out of the corner of your eye you spotted Julien rolling her eyes.

You turned your body to hers, you ignored her obvious irritation towards you and smiling you asked, “You good Julien? I got some water if you need it!”

“Yeah I’m fine. Thanks.” The tattooed woman replied, curtly.

“Ohhhkay,” you said, confused by her tone. You thought for a minute going back over the day to see if you did anything that would warrant that reaction. You couldn’t find anything, but you did remember how Julien really hadn’t ever been that cordial to you, not since that night outside the restaurant where she found you crying. In a moment of panic you asked the woman sitting 5 feet from you, “Did I do something?”

Julien turned towards you, obviously dumbstruck by your question. She hesitated before responding, you could practically see the wheels turning behind her eyes, “No, you didn’t do anything.”

Quickly you replied, desperate to figure out where you went wrong. “You act weird around me.”

You could see a flash of panic move over Julien;s face before it was replaced with a look of annoyance. “How do I act weird around you?” Julien asked as if it was the most absurd sentence you could have chosen to have said.

“You don’t talk to me ever, you avoid me, you don’t reply to my texts in the groupchat. Yesterday on stage you avoided me every chance you got. I get that we aren’t really close but do you have to pretend like I’m not even there? Like I don’t even matter?” Your voice started to strain towards the end of your dialogue, you could feel your eyes start to water.

“I-I don’t-”

Julien was cut off by a very energetic Phoebe who came skipping backstage. “We’re on stage in like a minute guys! Grab your mics!”

You quickly got up, blinking back your tears as you approached a table, grabbing a mic. You settled your breathing as Lucy came up to you. “You okay?” She asked, voice laced with worry.

“Mhm! I’m fine! I think the heat is just getting to me!” You replied, your voice steady. You’re honestly surprised at how fast you pulled yourself together.

MUNA was on stage finishing up their second to last song for the night when Katie yelled into her microphone, “Thank you all for such a gorgeous night! We have one last song! Can you all welcome our guests to the stage please?” The crowd begins to go crazy.

One by one the 4 of you run out on stage as the band starts playing “Silk Chiffon”. Your eyes scan over the crowd, everyone is having an amazing time, they all look tired, but in a euphoric concert driven tiredness. Until you spot one girl near the front of the barricade. She looks as if she's about to pass out, and the people around her don’t seem to notice. You brush it off, but decide to keep an eye on her just in case something happens.

As the band starts to play the music fills your body, heating your veins with electricity. You move the mic to your mouth as you sing background for Katie. This was always one of your favorite parts of the show, the harmony between all of your voices, the feeling of being alive and showing it through music. Phoebe rushes up to you and grabs your wrist, twirling you around and smiling wide at you. She leans in and gives you a kiss on your cheek before your bodies find natural sync, dancing together. Everything always gets too chaotic when the 7 of you are all on stage. AS your eyes move from Phoebes to the rest of the talent on stage you spot Julien glaring at you, your cheeks redden and you can’t distinguish whether it's from the heat or the shorter woman's dangerous stare.

Suddenly you remember that girl in the audience and when you look back to her place, you see her almost going limp, merely held up by the sweating bodies around her. Immediately your mind moves fast, remembering your highschool first aid lessons on heat stroke. Your brain quickly runs down her obvious symptoms and realizes it could be severe dehydration or worse, heat stroke. You quickly let go of Phoebe's arm and run backstage to grab a water bottle and someone to help you.

Phoebe is confused, her eyes follow you backstage until she sees you grab a bottle of water. Too caught up in the moment she thinks you need a drink. She assumes nothing is wrong and then goes over to Jo to dance with her. The others don't realize your absence, too caught up in the song. Except Julien.

Julien was keeping a close eye on you when you were on stage, she saw every time you glanced at that specific spot in the barricade. Though she didn’t follow you, not until you suddenly appeared on the lawn in front of the stage with a medical professional and a security guard.

You run to the dehydrated woman and then help her get to a cooler spot, and give her small sips of water to hydrate her. You couldn’t care less about the concert at that point, too concentrated on making sure this person was alright.

Julien’s stomach started to churn, once again you were proving to her that you were perfect. There wasn’t anything Julien could flaw you on at this point. You stopped singing in the middle of a concert to go and take care of someone in need. How could she avoid her true feelings now?

The song came to a close, and the bands lined up, wrapping their arms around each other's waists and bowing. Naomi, Jo and Katie blew kisses to the crowd and then they all walked offstage, a concert well performed.

As Phoebe looked backstage she didn’t see you. She turned to the group and asked, “Did anyone see where (Y/N) went?”

It came as a surprise to everyone when Julien answered, “They went to help someone in the audience, I saw them with medical.”

Everyone nodded, Jo hoped the person was okay. Katie and Naomi went to ask someone about what had happened. It wasn’t soon after that you showed up.

Walking back to where you had just appeared from, Naomi and Katie both asked you “What happened?”

You told them that “Some girl in the barricade got really dehydrated and passed out, but she’s alright now!”

A sigh of relief was heard from all 6 people, relieved that everyone was okay. Small chit chat was made until Jo spoke up “Okay I don’t know about you guys but it is hot as hell out here and I am going somewhere with air conditioning!”

“Finally someone said it!”

“Thank god I was starting to think I’d melt,”

Naomi, Katie, Lucy, and Phoebe dispersed after Jo, all talking about some record they’d listened to recently or where to get takeout from.

Julien stayed behind, and just as you were about to follow after the others she caught your arm. You turned towards her, “What’s up Jay?” The nickname leaves your lips in a second before you could think to not say it.

Julien looked at you strangely and let go of your arm, not really realizing she had grabbed it in the first place. Another round of butterflies flew through her body as you looked at her questioningly.. “That was super cool what you did for that girl. Leaving mid song I mean.”

You sighed, you were starting to get frustrated with her antics. Did she loathe you? Were you two friends? It seemed every other minute her feelings towards you changed. It was confusing the hell out of you. “Thanks.” You clipped, starting to walk away.

“That’s it?” Julien asked from behind you.

As you turned back around you noticed she stood as if trying to make her 5 foot frame seem taller, not that it was working. “What?”

“‘Thanks.’ That’s all you're gonna say? Normally you're much more chatty,” Julien laughed.

“I don’t know what you want from me Julien.”

Julien pauses, looking at you with questions written all over her face.

“When I talk to you, you get snippy and you’re mean. When I don’t talk to you, you want me to talk more. I don’t get what your deal is with me?” You whisper-yelled, afraid someone from the crew would see your argument.

“I-” Julien stuttered, not being able to come up with anything to say.

Finally done with the back and forth banter that has been hurting your feelings ever since you met Julien you declared, “If you don’t want to be my friend just say it.”

Julien looked at you, eyes wide. You watched her as the gears turned in her head, trying to come up with what to say. You gave her a chance to explain herself, you set a mental timer of 30 seconds, if she didn’t say anything then you would go away.

Those 30 seconds flew by without a peep from Julien, your eyes teared up as you spoke, “Fine, I’ll see you later I guess.” Turning around you went to your tour bus, wondering what you did to get Julien to dislike you so.

The only thing going through Julien’s mind was how she screwed up, bad.

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