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pucksandpower · 2 months

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Just a Taste

Max Verstappen x best friend!Reader

Summary: you quickly learn that there’s more to the chocolates you devoured than meets the eye

Warnings: 18+ content, dubious consent (thanks to aphrodisiac chocolates)

You knock on Max’s front door, balancing a tray with four large lattes in your arms. “Max!” You call out, “It’s me!”

No response. You frown, knowing he’s usually back from his morning run by now. Shifting the drinks to one arm, you pull out your key and let yourself in.

“Max?” You call out again as you kick the door closed behind you. Still no answer.

You make your way to the kitchen and put the coffees down on the counter. Every Sunday morning you and Max have brunch together, a tradition you’ve kept up for years, ever since you became friends as kids.

As you take a sip of frothy caffeine, your stomach rumbles loudly. You glance at the clock — you’re a bit early today, so Max probably hasn’t returned yet.

Looking around, you spot a pink box on the counter that you don’t recognize. Curious, you open it up to find a dozen chocolates inside. A small note card reads:

For when you finally meet someone special - Lando

You chuckle to yourself, trust Lando to tease Max about being perpetually single. Popping one of the chocolates in your mouth, you savor the rich sweetness that melts on your tongue. Before you know it, you’ve eaten three more. They’re just so good! Max won’t mind if you have a few, right?

You’re nibbling on a fifth chocolate when warmth blooms through your body. You feel … tingly all over. And is it just you or did the room get brighter? You blink a few times then shake your head, trying to clear the sudden haze that’s settled over your mind.

Just then, the front door opens and Max calls out, “Y/N? You here already?”

“In the kitchen!” You reply, your voice coming out breathier than normal. You feel hot and flushed now, your skin ultra sensitive. What was in those chocolates?

Max enters the kitchen and stops short when he sees you leaning against the counter, breathing heavily. “Whoa, are you okay?” His brow furrows in concern as he takes in your disheveled appearance.

You stare at him, suddenly unable to form a coherent thought beyond how good he looks right now, sweaty from his run in just a compression top and shorts. You’ve always thought Max was cute of course, but now an almost uncontrollable urge to touch him overtakes you.

“Y/N?” Max prompts again, stepping closer and seeing the open box of chocolates beside you. “Did you … oh no. You ate from the pink box, didn’t you?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Max runs a hand through his hair. “Those were from Lando, they’re infused with … let’s just say they have special effects. I told him it was a stupid gift idea.”

He moves towards you but you back away quickly. “D-don’t,” you stammer out, worried what might happen if he gets too close right now.

Understanding dawns on Max’s face. “It’s alright, just try to stay calm. Come on, let’s go sit down.”

He gently grasps your arm and leads you to the living room couch. You sink down onto the soft cushions, resting your head against the back and closing your eyes. Your skin is on fire, you shift restlessly as desire coils hotly inside you.

Max sits down on the other end of the sofa. “This will pass, just ride it out,” he says soothingly.

You crack open your eyes to look at him. His face is etched with concern and something else you can’t quite place. “Max,” you breathe out his name like a plea.

He swallows hard. You’ve never wanted someone as much as you want Max in this moment. Scooting closer to him, you reach out a hand to touch his cheek.

Max inhales sharply at your contact but doesn’t pull away. His eyes search yours questioningly.

“Please Max, I need you,” the words fall desperately from your lips before you can stop them.

Max’s eyes widen in surprise before darkening with unmistakable desire. He’s silent for a long moment, emotions playing across his face as he struggles with indecision. You hold your breath, heart hammering in your chest.

Finally Max moves, shifting forward to close the small gap between you. His hand comes up to cradle your cheek tenderly as his eyes lock with yours.

“Are you sure?” He asks softly.

You answer by surging forward to capture his lips in a heated kiss. Max responds immediately, mouth moving urgently against yours. His arms wrap around you, pulling you against his strong chest.

You sigh into the kiss, hands tangling into his hair. His lips are even softer than you imagined. You swipe your tongue along his bottom lip and Max parts them with a low groan.

As the kiss deepens, your desperation mounts. You need more, need to be closer. Straddling his lap, you rock your hips against his, feeling his growing arousal.

Max breaks the kiss with a gasp. “We should stop, the effects will wear off soon,” he protests weakly.

“Don’t want to stop,” you murmur, trailing kisses down his neck. You nip at his pulse point and Max lets out a strangled moan, resolve clearly wavering.

His hands grip your hips tightly as you continue to move against him. “We shouldn’t, not like this,” he tries again, but you silence him with another heated kiss.

You pull back just enough to meet his gaze. “Max, I want this. I want you. Not just because of the chocolates. I’ve always wanted you.”

Max’s eyes widen at your confession, before a vulnerable smile spreads across his face. “I’ve wanted you too, for so long,” he admits softly.

Cupping your face in both hands, he kisses you tenderly. When you eventually break apart, foreheads resting together, Max asks “Are you sure this is what you want? I don’t want you to regret anything.”

You smile and take his hand, rising from the couch and pulling him up with you.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” you tell him sincerely. “Now take me to bed.”

His eyes darken and he laces his fingers through yours. “Gladly,” he murmurs, before leading you towards his bedroom and kicking the door shut behind you.

As soon as the door clicks closed, Max presses you up against it, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His hands roam your body eagerly as your own fumble to push his shirt up and off him.

Breaking the kiss, Max trails his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. You gasp and arch into him, nails raking down his bare back.

Needing more, you reach for the hem of your own shirt but Max stops you.

“Let me,” he says huskily, grasping the fabric and lifting it up tantalizingly slowly to reveal your skin inch by inch. He pulls the shirt over your head and tosses it aside before returning his heated gaze to you.

Reaching behind you, Max deftly unhooks your bra, letting it slip from your shoulders to the floor. He hovers over you, grey eyes burning with desire as they rake over your newly exposed skin. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers reverently before ducking his head to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck and chest.

Leaning in, he kisses down between your breasts before capturing a nipple in his mouth. You cry out, hands coming up to grip his hair tightly. He lavishes attention on your breasts until you are squirming against him desperately.

Sensing your need, Max scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the bed. He lays you down gently against the rumpled sheets before settling over you, the hard planes of his body pressing deliciously against your own softer ones.

You kiss feverishly as you fumble with the drawstring of his shorts, shoving them down impatiently. Max kicks them off before reaching for the button of your jeans. Soon the last barriers between you are gone.

Max trails heated open-mouthed kisses down your stomach until he reaches the apex of your thighs. He looks up at you questioningly and you nod eagerly. You arch up into his touch, gasping and tangling your hands in his hair.

“Please Max,” you beg desperately, needing more.

At the first touch of his mouth on your most intimate area, you cry out his name, hands twisting into the sheets. He takes his time exploring you with his lips and tongue until you are writhing and gasping beneath him.

When you feel yourself teetering on the edge, you breathlessly beg Max to be inside you. Needing no further encouragement, he moves back up your body, positioning himself at your entrance.

He pauses, meeting your gaze. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he says huskily before finally joining your bodies in one smooth motion. You both moan at the feeling of completion.

Max sets a steady rhythm, angling his hips until he finds the spot that makes you see stars. You feel the pressure building rapidly within you. Sensing you’re close, Max increases his pace. His thumb rubs tight circles over that sensitive bundle of nerves until you shatter around him with a cry. He follows right after, burying his face in your neck and groaning your name as he finds his own release.

You cling to each other as you come down, trading soft kisses and whispers of affection. Eventually Max rolls off of you, gathering you close against his chest.

“That was incredible,” Max murmurs, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. “You are incredible.”

You smile up at him adoringly. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He grins and squeezes you tight. You drift off curled safely in the arms of the man you’ve always loved, happier than you’ve ever been.

***

The next morning, you wake up to find your legs tangled with the man beside you. Last night had been incredible, even better than your wildest fantasies.

You feel Max begin to stir. Turning in his arms to face him, you meet his sleepy gaze.

“Morning,” Max smiles at you, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His expression turns serious. “How are you feeling?”

You know he’s asking about more than just the effects of the chocolates. You lift a hand to caress his cheek reassuringly.

“I’ve never been happier,” you tell him honestly.

Max’s face breaks into a radiant grin. He kisses you softly before pulling you tightly against his chest. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent.

“I’m so glad you feel the same way,” Max whispers into your hair. “I’ve wanted to tell you how I felt for so long but I didn’t want to risk our friendship if you didn’t feel the same.”

You lift your head to meet his gaze. “Well you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” you say, leaning in to kiss him languidly.

When you eventually break apart, Max smirks at you. “Remind me to send Lando a thank you card.”

You laugh and snuggle back into his embrace, making a mental note to pick up another box of those chocolates. Just in case.

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mammonsrockstargf · 1 month

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a/n: hi fellas, i have hypersomnia, which basically just means i fall asleep a lot so here’s the brothers with a very sleepy mc.

At first, the brothers are kind of confused. Demons don’t need as much sleep as humans and they’re baffled by your excessive sleeping. Do all humans sleep so much? Why are you always flaring your teeth at them? (They later learn that this is called yawning.)

Lucifer initially thinks you’re lazy and it honestly bothers him. Simultaneously you remind him of a certain brother, so he also lets many things you do slide. He'll just sigh when you fall asleep 45 minutes into one of his lectures. “I think they understood my point,” he says, before turning to Mammon and continuing his lesson for a good two hours. As you get closer, he understands that you aren't lazy and he even lets you sleep in his office at R.A.D. whenever you need it.

One late evening you trudge into his office, blanket in hand. He looks at you with a raised brow. "Bed, now. You haven't slept properly in like 3 days," you say, while pointing your finger threateningly at him. Much to his own surprise, he finds himself in his bed with you snuggling into his side. He supposes you kind of complete each other in that way, where he sleeps too little, you sleep too much.

The first time you fall asleep during one of your hangouts with Mammon he’s annoyed. He lets you sleep it out because you just look too cute when you’re sleeping, but when you wake up he’s crossing his arms and pouting. “Am I really that boring, huh?” Luckily, we all know the great Mammon can never stay mad with you for too long, so he warms up to you again within an hour or so. If you want you can always speed up the process significantly by giving him kisses or a big hug. It works every single time.

Once he realizes you don’t fall asleep because of him, but because you’re just so damn tired, he stops getting bothered by it. Instead, he just tugs you in, covering you in blankets. He'll even scold his brothers if they're being too loud around you. This just causes them to make fun of him, but always at a lower noise level.

Leviathan is also hurt at first, especially because you fell asleep during an anime marathon. He’s a bit harder to make happy again. He’s absolutely convinced it has something to do with him. No matter how many times you tell him he doesn’t believe you until one day when you fall asleep in the middle of a conversation with Mammon. The sight makes him laugh so hard, he almost falls over.

After that, he doesn’t mind anymore. After all, if you fall asleep around Mammon, then it's probably you who's the problem, not him. He lets you sleep with your head in his lap. He’ll even tread his fingers through your hair, but he’ll never admit that to you when you’re awake. Once you wake up again he’s happy to give you a recap of what you missed in the episode, plus an analysis of the dialogue and the hidden meanings of certain scenes.

Satan doesn’t mind at first, because he likes how it bothers Lucifer. He even helps you get away with it. When you fall asleep during class, he’ll put a book in front of you so the teacher can’t see and he’ll answer the question for you if you’re called on. He even begins to write notes for you. Later it just becomes a habit of his, he does it for you without thinking.

If he’s reading aloud for you and you fall asleep, a smile will tug at his lips and he’ll just continue reading for you. Because of you, he begins researching human sleeping patterns. After he reads that certain foods can make you more energized, he begins to carry fruits and nuts with him, which he offers you whenever you get sleepy.

Asmodeus thinks beauty sleep is very important. It’s only natural that someone as beautiful as you should sleep a lot. Besides that, he’s probably the one who wakes you up from your sleep the most. Too much sleep can be bad for you as well! Besides that, he can't wait for you to wake up to share the insane gossip he just heard. You need to hear it now!

Like with Lucifer, you remind Beelzebub of Belphegor. A lot. His chest hurts when he finds you sleeping in the living room and he carries you to bed. When you fall asleep on his shoulder, he pats your head. He likes just looking at you when you sleep. Not in a creepy way, you just look so peaceful. It soothes the ache in his chest.

If you get too tired while you're out on a trip or assignment, Beel will often offer to piggyback you. Beel is a big guy, he could carry Diavolo around if he wanted to. With you on his back, he barely even registers your weight. His arms hook around your legs and sometimes his fingers will dig into your thighs. He likes the way you wrap your arms around his neck and the way he can feel your breath on his ear, while you whisper things to him. Most of all he likes when you fall asleep and he can hear your soft breathing.

Once you become friends with Belphegor, he’s excited to have a sleeping buddy. You come up to the attic to have your midday nap with him and he immediately opens his arms for you. “I’m serious, Belphie, only one hour,” you say, while setting the alarm on your D.D.D. “You know I can’t sleep for any longer than that.” Belphegor just nods sleepily and traps you in his arms. Once you're asleep, he grabs your phone and turns off the alarm.

When Beel comes to wake you up, saying it’s time for dinner, Belphie just laughs when you slap him lightly and complain that you slept for three hours. After that, you refuse to nap with him anymore until he swears that he won’t mess with your alarm again.

One time you mentioned that you have a hard time waking up in the mornings. The constant night of the Devildom is really messing with your brain. That very same day, a new bed lamp is ordered for you. One of those that imitate the sunrise in the morning, slowly lighting up your room as you wake up. You’re a lot more energetic in the mornings after that, a sight that makes all of the brothers smile your way at breakfast.

thanks for reading! you can find my other stuff here. <3

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 6 months

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The Danger Zone (Part 11) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 4.0k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Background Relationships; Medical Appointments; Suggestive Comments; Discussion of Mental Health (Depression, Anxiety, Post-Partum); Discussions of Goose and Carole; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You and Jake move in together and attend your twenty-week appointment.

Series Master List

Master List

A week and a half later, you were moving into Jake’s apartment officially. The two of you, with some help from Phoenix and Coyote, had already moved all of the smaller items out of your apartment. Bradley and Mav also stopped by—when Jake wasn’t there—to take some of the more sentimental items to hold onto for you in their bigger homes.

So, all that was left were a few pieces of furniture. You sold some of your furniture but decided to either keep or store or give away the other pieces. And that meant that someone had to drag it down the stairs and shove it into the back of Jake’s truck or the trailer that Maverick brought.

“Don’t even think about it,” Jake stated, watching as you rearranged the chairs around the table.

“What?”

“You’re not carrying anything. It’s all heavy and we’re not risking you hurting yourself,” Jake insisted, walking over to you. “Just relax.”

“I think I can drag a chair a few inches,” you stated, shooting Jake a playful look. “But I won’t carry anything heavy. Promise.”

“Thank you,” Jake replied softly. “How’re they today?”

“I think I’m feeling flutters, but I don’t really know. I only seem to feel them when I’m trying to sleep, so I don’t know if I’m imaging them.”

Your twenty-week appointment was about a week away and both of you were a bit anxious about it. Of course, every first-time parent worried about the worst case-scenario at that appointment. That they were going to get some kind of news that would change the little fairytale that they built up in their mind.

“Only when you’re trying to sleep?”

“Yeah, I think so. Why?”

“It’s like they’re teasing you. Or trying to stress you out more.”

“They’re stubborn, that’s all.”

“They get it from both sides,” Jake replied, brushing his fingers down your bump.

“Hopefully, they’re not too stubborn coming out,” you stated, glancing down at your bump as Jake took a step closer to you. Smiling up at him, you let out a chuckle. “What?”

“I’m just thinking about all the gas I’ll save when I don’t have to drive over here anymore," he explained, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“The gas, of course,” you hummed.

You let out a louder giggle as Jake leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek and then down your neck. The two of you, since your kiss in the kitchen, had gotten a lot more comfortable and handsy with each other over the next few days. You hadn’t taken it all the way yet, both of you were still cautious about pushing too hard too fast, but you seemed to be moving in that direction. It was starting to remind you of how the two of you were before you found out that you were pregnant.

Jake pressed a lingering kiss to your lips as his strong arms pulled you closer. And as you tangled your hand in his hair, returning the kiss, you heard the door to your apartment open. You turned your head and reflexively pushed Jake off of you when you saw Maverick standing there.

“Hey, Mav,” you greeted awkwardly, running a hand through your hair. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course. Though you looked as if you weren’t expecting company,” Maverick quipped, working on his key ring.

“I can explain,” Jake stated, causing Maverick to shake his head.

“You already got her pregnant, Jake. There’s not much left to explain beyond that.”

“Mav,” you sighed, feeling like a teenager again.

“Trailer’s parked out front. I didn’t know how you wanted to divide things up. Penny said that she would bring lunch over to your new apartment. And Bradley told me that he was leaving a couple minutes ago.”

“Great,” Jake replied dryly.

“There's not too much left at least,” you stated, trying to perk Jake up. “But I have to give the key back to my landlord, Mav.”

Maverick pulled your spare key off of his chain and handed it over to you before turning to Jake. The two of them started to carry stuff downstairs to the trailer or Jake’s truck while you started to sweep up and do your final round of cleaning so that your landlord didn’t charge you extra.

Jake and Maverick were out by the trailer, sliding your dresser into the back when Rooster walked over with his keys in hand. Leaning on the trailer wall, Rooster and Jake shared a glare before Bradley turned to Maverick.

“Emma’s going to meet us there with Penny. I’ll text her when we’re finished up here.”

“We’ve still got a few trips left before that,” Maverick reported, walking over to Bradley. “We’re going to do the couch next.”

Bradley nodded and turned to head inside with Mav, leaving Jake to walk by himself. Jake wasn’t too perturbed. He was expecting the treatment from Bradley and the fact that Maverick hadn’t pushed him down the stairs after seeing the two of you together felt like a small victory.

You were wiping down the counters when they returned to your apartment. You moved to greet your brother before the three of them walked over to your couch. You stood a bit nervously by the door, holding it open for them.

“Please don’t hurt yourselves,” you told them as they started to carry it out.

“We’ll be fine,” Jake assured you as he passed by.

You watched them go before shutting the door. Moving over to the window, you sat down and watched for them. It was only three floors, but you knew that you wouldn’t be able to focus until the three of them emerged together. You weren’t so worried that the couch would be too heavy or anything like that. You were more concerned that they would use it to hurt each other.

Jake and Bradley carried the ends of the couch while Maverick stood in the middle. Bradley stood on the lower set of stairs, simply because Jake wasn’t stupid and refused to step down first. Otherwise, he wasn’t confident that he would make it down to the bottom of the stairs. Not without a crack in the back of his head. Again, he wasn’t stupid.

“Lift it up more,” Bradley grunted as they tried to turn one of the last corners.

“I am,” Jake huffed back at him.

“I wouldn’t have asked if you just did it,” Bradley snapped at Jake.

“Just lift, both of you,” Maverick stated firmly, shooting them both a look.

They managed to walk around the corner with the couch and down the last set of stairs before setting the couch down on the floor to catch their breath and relieve their muscles. Bradley leaned on the couch, glaring over at Jake as Jake stretched his arms casually. Maverick was silent, but he was clearly watching them.

“So, why are we moving my sister into your tiny apartment again, Hangman?”

“Her lease is up and we’re having a baby together,” Hangman stated, like Rooster was as dumb as a brick.

“And you couldn’t even get an apartment with enough room for a crib in it?”

“Bradley,” Maverick stated, shooting him a look.

“There’s enough room for a crib,” Jake snapped back at Bradley. “We already mapped it out. We wrote down the exact dimensions that we need. And even if we didn’t, it’s none of your fucking business, Rooster.”

“Jake,” Maverick sighed, turning to the annoyed aviator.

“It is my business when it involves my sister and my niece or nephew.” Bradley straightened up, staring Jake down. “She told me that you were looking at houses, but yet she said that she hasn’t been to any house showings. Why is that?”

“None of your fucking business, Rooster.”

“It’s not? Because it sounds like you’re selling a fantasy to my sister that you’re never actually going to deliver.”

“That’s enough,” Maverick replied to both of them.

“You would want your sister to just move into the first house that we found and could close on?” Jake stated, staring Bradley down. “We’re looking. But there’s other things that are more pressing that we have to deal with. But again, it’s none of your fucking business.”

“And does she know that? Have you told her that?”

“Alright, pick up your ends, let’s get it put into the trailer,” Maverick snapped, effectively ending the argument.

You watched from above as Jake, Bradley, and Maverick walked out to the trailer with the couch. Letting out a breath of relief, you got up and turned to clean once again. There was just the tables, chairs, and another small dresser left, which Jake, Bradley, and Maverick carried down in three more trips.

When it was all cleaned up, you took a moment to walk through the empty rooms, reminiscing about the memories that the place brought you. It was a sanctuary for you for a time. An escape, really. But it was an apartment for a version of you that was quickly disappearing and in a few short months would be gone completely.

You had grown out of it. And it was time to move on.

“You alright?” Jake asked softly, standing at the threshold of the apartment.

“Yeah,” you replied, turning to him with a small smile. “I’m okay.”

Picking up the keys, you walked over to Jake, pressed a kiss to his lips, and headed out. And into the new phase of your life.

~~~~~

You and Jake arrived at your shared apartment first, since Maverick and Bradley were dropping off some stuff at their respective houses first. Penny was waiting for you in the parking lot and Jake assured you that he would be fine carrying everything himself.

“So, how’d moving out go?” Penny asked you as you walked up the stairs. Your now shared apartment was on the third floor, so it was one less set of stairs than your previous apartment. “Pete gave me a brief overview.”

“He probably knows better than me. He was the one who was dealing with them,” you sighed, pulling out your new set of keys. “I just want them to be able to coexist. They don’t have to like each other. Hell, they don’t even need to speak to each other. I just need them to be able to sit in the same room and not try to kill each other.”

“They’re both stubborn and set in their ways,” Penny replied, shaking her head. “Have you talked to Emma about Bradley?”

“Yeah, but there’s only so much she can do. Ever since Mom died, he’s always felt the need to be so protective over me. And I appreciated it sometimes but now I don’t need it now. I just want him to be happy for me. For us, me and Jake.”

“He will. Maybe he just needs to see Jake supporting you—not that he isn’t already—for that to start to happen.”

“He better get over it by the time I have this baby or I swear,” you muttered, moving to unlock your front door. You turned to Penny with less annoyance in your features. “You know, I really want to make Bradley and Emma the baby’s godparents. And the baby’s guardians if something were to happen to the both of us and—”

“—Don’t talk like that,” Penny interrupted you, grabbing your shoulders.

“Penny,” you sighed as the door shut behind her, “I’m not living in some delusion where I don’t think that bad things can happen. And I want it all written down and signed and everything before I give birth or just in case Jake gets dragged away.” Placing a hand on your bump, you looked down. “I want to be prepared.”

“Hey, today is a happy occasion. You can focus on that stuff at another time. Right now, just enjoy the fact that everyone is healthy and that you’re moving forward in your relationship with Jake, okay?” You nodded slowly and Penny pulled you in for a tight motherly hug. “And that’s why I got you a gift.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Penny.”

“I know, but I saw it and just thought of you,” Penny replied, pulling away and reaching into the bag that she brought.

“And you definitely didn’t need to wrap it,” you mused, taking the box from her hand.

Gently tearing at the wrapping paper, you glanced up when the door opened and Jake walked in, carrying your nightstand and dragging a suitcase behind him. You shot him a smile as he glanced curiously down at the gift in your hands.

“What’s that?”

“Just a small gift,” Penny insisted, smiling kindly.

You tore away the rest of the wrapping paper and pulled out a rectangular plaque. You were a bit confused when you noted the three raised squares, but when you read the painted letters above them, it all clicked.

The message of ‘Daddy’ + ‘Mommy’ = ‘Baby’ was so simple, yet so emotionally overwhelming.

“You’re supposed to put your handprints here,” Penny explained, pointing at the squares. “Jake can put his handprint here and then you can put yours there and then when your baby comes, you can put their handprint there. They recommended red and white for your hands if it’s a girl, so that her handprint is pink. Or white and a darker blue if it’s a boy, so that his handprint would be a baby blue. And you can paint the baby’s name below the square too, right there.”

“I love it,” you croaked out, emotions quickly bursting to the surface. “Thank you, Penny. I love it, I love it so much.”

You pulled Penny back in for a tight hug, tears starting to stream down your cheeks. Jake looked on, concerned, but Penny gave him a reassuring smile and mouthed that it was alright. And when Jake continued to look concerned, Penny whispered ‘hormones’ to him. Jake nodded slowly and gently took the plaque from your hands.

“I don’t even know why I’m crying,” you breathed out, wiping them away hastily. “It just hit me all of a sudden.”

“It’s been a long day. You’re making big steps. It’s a lot to take in all at once.”

“Yeah,” you breathed out, trying to get a reign on your emotions again. Turning back to Jake, who was still staring at you with a measure of concern. “Where do you think we should put it up, once it’s complete?”

“Somewhere everyone can see it,” Jake suggested, causing you to smile and nod in agreement.

~~~~~

Since most of your stuff was already at Jake’s apartment, it didn’t take too much longer to fully make it your shared space. And you already made space in the living room for baby stuff. It was still early, you knew, but the alternative was researching about what horrible things you could find out at your twenty-week appointment, so you kept on decorating.

But today was the day, so you supposed that you couldn’t push it off anymore.

Waiting a bit anxiously in your car, you let out a breath when you spotted Jake’s truck pull into the lot. You grabbed your purse and slipped out of your car, walking over to where Jake parked. He got out of his truck, dressed in his day uniform, and quickly moved to your side. Pulling you in for a gentle hug, he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Are you alright?” he asked you, causing you to nod against his chest. “Everything’s going to be fine. Whatever we find out, it’s going to be fine, okay?”

Jake locked up his truck before the two of you headed inside the office. You checked in and sat down, filling out some paperwork while Jake rested his arm behind your back. And when your name was called, the two of you silently walked back to the exam room. Laying back on the exam table, you stared at the ceiling as Jake rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

A knock at the door made you sit up and move to the edge of the examination table. Your obstetrician walked inside the room with a kind smile. It started off as any regular doctor’s appointment would. You went over your symptoms, your pains, your bloodwork, and everything else before moving onto the ultrasound.

You immediately reached for Jake as the wand touched your belly and he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. She moved it around, typing away at her computer, taking a few images and measurements, before turning to you with a reassuring smile.

“Your baby’s growing normally and as they should. Everything is measuring normal. They’re a little smaller than average, but nothing to be concerned about. They’re still a perfectly healthy and normal size.” She typed something else before turning back to you and Jake. “Do you still want to wait to know the baby’s sex?”

“Yes, please,” you answered quickly.

“Alright, well, I’m just going to turn the screen briefly,” your obstetrician replied, hiding the information from you and Jake.

“You can tell?” you asked quietly.

“Yes, but all the files are marked to keep that information completely private. Unless you change your mind, of course.”

You nodded and shared a look with Jake, who pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. Your obstetrician typed away again before moving the screen back to your view. And as she continued to tell you that everything was normal and healthy, you sunk in and started to relax and enjoy the moment.

“Your baby seems to be a bit stubborn,” your obstetrician noted, trying to move the wand around your belly again to take some more measurements. “They start to cooperate and then seem to decide not to about three seconds later.”

“That’s not shocking,” you mused, watching the movement of your child on the screen. “Stubbornness is probably genetic for them.”

After a few more pictures, your belly was wiped off and you sat up once again. Your obstetrician smiled kindly as she sat down on her stool in front of you. Jake sat beside you, more relaxed than when he walked in, but still alert, as your obstetrician turned to you.

“Alright, there’s just a few more screening questions and then we’re all set.”

“Of course,” you agreed, nodding slowly.

“Mr. Seresin,” your obstetrician stated, causing Jake to turn to her. “Did you want to go and grab the ultrasound photos? A tech can bring you back there. And you can ask them any questions of your own about the process.”

Jake hesitated for a moment but agreed and got up from his seat. You squeezed his hand in goodbye before he exited the room with one of the techs. Your obstetrician waited until he was gone before turning to you.

“At the twenty week appointment, we usually perform a screening of your mental health.” After you nodded, she began. “Have you ever had a history of mental illness? Anxiety? Depression? Eating disorders? Anything like that?”

“Yes,” you answered softly. “Depression and anxiety.”

“When?” she asked, poised to type down the information.

“My mother passed away when I was twelve. And after that, I was diagnosed with depression and put in talk therapy for a time. But I stopped that when I was eighteen. And they put me on anti-anxiety medication when I was sixteen.”

“Are you still on that medication?”

“No, I stopped it about a year afterwards. I was just going through a lot at the time and talk therapy wasn’t working completely. It was just to get me through that time and then I didn’t need it anymore.”

“Have you had any flare ups since then?”

“A few times,” you answered honestly.

“You didn’t go back to talk therapy or medication or anything?”

“No, I just . . . waited for it to get better, I suppose. Probably wasn't the best decision, but I survived.”

“Can I ask why you didn’t return to therapy or medication?”

“Honestly, the only reason I went to therapy or went on medication when I was a teenager was because I had people in my family push me in that direction. But when I was an adult, I just . . . I wanted to just handle it quietly.”

“Well, please document if you feel any depression or anxiety during your pregnancy and your postpartum period. It’s an overwhelming time for anyone and there’s no shame in asking for help of any kind.” Your obstetrician paused before asking softly, “Do you trust your partner to help you if you feel depressed or anxious?”

“Yeah,” you answered honestly, nodding along.

“And are you two living together?”

“Yes, we are.”

“And you feel safe in that living situation? Do you feel safe and confident about bringing your baby into that environment?”

“Yes, completely.”

“Alright, well, please just document if you feel anxious or depressed.” She stood up and grabbed a pamphlet and handed it to you. “You can always call our office or there’s a helpline that you can call at any time. And there’s no shame in any of it.”

“Thank you,” you replied, thumbing through the pamphlet.

~~~~~

That night, you and Jake laid in bed, looking at the photos from your ultrasound together. You were curled up on his chest, resting most of your weight on him as Jake wrapped his arm around your waist, cupping your continuously growing bump with his hand.

“Were you a small baby?” you asked Jake softly, staring at the ultrasound picture of your baby.

“What?” he questioned, turning to you with some confusion.

“Were you a small baby when you were born?” you repeated for him. “She said that the baby was smaller than average.”

“I never asked,” Jake replied, a bit elusively.

“I was normal weight, according to my mom,” you stated, still staring at the photo. “Bradley was a large baby with a big fat head, but I was normal weight and size. Mav said that after I was born, my mom told my dad that she wished that I was born first. It would have been an easier delivery, she told him.”

“You think that they’ll stay smaller?”

“I hope so,” you mused with a smile. “I’d prefer a six pound baby to a ten pound baby, thank you very much.” You turned to Jake with a soft look in your eye, resting your head on his shoulder. “Your mom never complained to you about how big your head was or how you were overactive in her belly or anything like that?”

“No,” Jake replied shortly.

Your smile slipped a bit and you turned back to the ultrasound photo. Jake rubbed his hand slowly up and down your bump, soothing you in one way but making another part of you wander from his side.

“Can I take this one?” Jake asked, causing you to turn back to him.

“What?”

“Can I take this one with me?” Jake asked you again, pointing at one photo from the roll. “I was thinking about putting a photo from the ultrasound in my cockpit. If that’s alright with you.”

“Yeah, of course,” you agreed, nodding to him and offering him a smile. “I think that’s sweet.”

Jake nodded in return and pressed a kiss to your forehead. The two of you turned in for the night shortly afterwards. Rolling onto your side, you rested your head on your hand, staring out at the window. Jake gave your bump one last loving squeeze before moving away to fall asleep. And although you were exhausted and needed sleep, your mind kept you awake.

Staring at the window again, you paused when you felt that little flutter again. You smiled to yourself and glanced down at your bump.

“Right as I’m trying to go to sleep? Again?” you teased quietly.

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drs-fan · 16 days

Text

LN4 | FWB

hiya um i wanted to try writing a go so here's my first fic bc i want to celebrate Lando's first win

love it hate it idk but hope u enjoy

warnings: angst, alludes to sexual activity (no actual smut), not proofread, some swearing, [name] used

word count: 2k

They were introduced by a mutual friend at a party.

“Hey,” he said, half tipsy, as your friend introduced you, “Nice shoes.”

“Thanks. They’re new.”

“Ah.”

Silence. Your friend had gone off, leaving you two alone to ‘mingle.’

“Um so…”

“Yeah…”

“Hi.”

You both burst into embarrassed laughter.

“I have no idea why she thought this was a good idea, but nice to meet you.” You put out a hand for him to shake. He shook it. His hands were warm and large.

“I mean, you’re pretty cute.” He still hadn’t let go of your hand. It fit nicely in his, he thought, lost in your glittering eyes which crinkled at the corners as you smiled.

“Generally, I think, if you think a girl looks nice, you’d say like ‘you’re beautiful’ but I guess I’ll take ‘pretty cute.’”

“I didn’t mean – I mean, you’re very nice looking.” He let go and rubs vigorously at the back of his neck, flustered.

You laugh, leaning into him. He smelled nice. “Thanks. You’re getting better at it. You look nice too.”

Leaning against the bar, he asks, “So, do you live in Monaco?”

He looked better than nice. He was hot. “Yeah, I work here and there, but now it’s Monaco.”

“You like it here?”

“Hmm. It’s fun, but a bit small. You keep running into people you’d rather not meet.”

He chuckles, “I get that. It’s hard getting around unnoticed.”

You roll your eyes, “That’s most likely because you’re famous – and you drive that Jolly.”

“I sold that Jolly, it broke my heart, but I don’t drive it anymore.”

“Why not? I love the Jolly – it’s so cute.”

He shakes his head, taking a sip of his drink. “It’s not quite the lady killer, is it?”

“It would kill me – if someone came up to me and offered a ride in their jolly, I’d –“ you click your tongue, bending your knees and pointing at the floor. “No question.”

He spit out his drink as he laughed, making you laugh as well. Both of your loud laughter makes people look over. “You would?”

“Oh definitely. That Jolly is hot.”

“What about for the Lamborghini?” He steps closer, hands fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“Hm. What Lambo?”

“The Miura.”

“Ooh, hot. But depends – who’s driving it?” You smirk, not avoiding his eyes.

“You, if you’d like.”

Your hands travel along his arms, and you hear his breath hitch as you say, “I’m holding you on that promise, Norris.”

“No problem.” He smirks back.

“For the time being, dance with me?” You drag him by the hand to the dance floor, fingers intwined with yours.

For the next half hour, his hands travel up and down waist and hips as you sway to the beat, while yours are interlocked behind his neck. He looks gorgeous with his curly hair bouncing around. You run your hands through your hair, making him close his eyes leaning into your touch. Lando pulls you in, grip tightening around your waist and says into your ear, “Hey, you wanna get out of here?”

Even though his apartment was littered with your makeup, your clothes, and your favorite snacks, you two hadn’t yet put a label on it. ‘We should take it slow,’ he said, ‘Don’t rush things yet.’ You agreed, though halfheartedly. It wasn’t your style, having a casual relationship.

After every race overseas, your feed would be full of photos of Lando with his hand too low on another girl’s back. Of him dancing with pretty girls with better bodies, better outfits, all while you were lying in his bed, in his shirt, wrapped in his sheets that no longer smelled like him.

Often it would be:

“Who were you with?”

“No one, just some people I met.”

Or “Who was the girl? You seemed friendly.” “Just a friend.”

He was delightful when he came home, acting like he was your boyfriend – buying you the coffee you liked or cuddling up to binge watch Netflix – but he refused to be seen in public together.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he would say with a pout, “The fans, they’re too much sometimes.”

They could barely go out together, with you leaving his apartment 30 minutes before he did or vice versa. Public events were a definite no-go and even your work events you had to go alone. He also decidedly avoided the topic of you coming to watch the races.

“Are you embarrassed of me?” You asked, sitting up on his bed, as he once again refused to bring you to a race, almost 10 months after that first night.

“No, baby, but I –“

“Stop calling me baby, because I’m apparently not your baby.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what, Lando? Do what?”

“Try to make me feel bad. It’s our decision to make, not just yours.”

“If it’s our decision to make, why do you always get to decide?”

“I told you – I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Yes, that and you don’t think I’m good enough to keep around. Noted, Lando.” You jump out of the bed, throwing on your clothes, and walk out the door.

It was your birthday. You were sitting at a small restaurant, sipping red wine while watching the sun go down over the horizon. He promised he would make it. It would have been a big deal to finally be going out in public together, but it’s now 7:48. 48 minutes and counting.

You could sense the stares of the waiters, once full of pity but now impatient, waiting for the poor girl to leave so they could serve the table. 50 minutes. At the hour mark, you sighed and got up, paid for the wine, and left. The walk back to your apartment was long, and your heels were digging into your skin. Your skirt kept riding up and rain started to pelt down on your skin, washing away your teartracks. You look up to the sky and laugh out loud, throwing up your arms, “All this for what?” Shaking your head.

He came knocking at your door at 11PM that night.

“Hey, Lando.”

“Hey, look, I’m so sorry. Something came up, I thought it wouldn’t take long, but they held me up like an hour, then I had to –“

“Yeah, let’s not do this again. I’m tired, let’s talk tomorrow.”

“Look, [name]. I’m sorry.”

“I know. You were sorry when you couldn’t make it to my work event. You were sorry when you had to cancel on meeting my sister, You were sorry when you couldn’t invite me to any of your races. I’m sick of your sorry. Go away, Lando. Please.”

“I missed you. I came as fast as I could.”

“Well, not fast enough. Today was my birthday, Lan.” Your voice broke, and you looked away. “You couldn’t make time for my fucking birthday.”

“I’m so sorry, babe, please.”

“I’m tired,” You shake your head. “Tired of all this, being your dirty secret. I loved you, but this is too hard.”

“I love you, [name].” He grabs your hand as you try to close the door. “I love you.”

“Don’t lie.” Your voice falls flat. “You love having someone to come back to, you don’t love me. You can find another me.”

You push him away and close the door, bolting it. You can hear him still, his apologies muffled by the door.

You came down with a bad cold that day. Unable to get up, you stayed in bed until the fever passed through. Delirious, you thought you heard Lando’s voice calling outside. You slipped in and out of your dreams and your pillow was drenched with cold sweat and tears. Next morning, feeling a bit better, you opened the door and was greeted by a thump as a body hit the floor, hard.

“What the fuck?”

The body jolted upright. “Good morning.” It was Lando, looking disoriented and dishevled, blinking up at you.

“Oh god, I thought you were dead. What are you doing h-” Your sentence was cut off by a coughing fit.

“Are you okay?”

“No. I’m not. I need to get some food and pills – I ran out of ibuprofen.”

“Wh- are you sick?” “Yes, Lando. I was stood up by my date, so I had to walk home alone, in the rain, in my heels. Please move.”

“I’m so sorry.” Were those tears? “I’ll go get the food and meds and stuff. Please stay here.”

It was too good of a deal to argue. “Fine.”

He came back hands full of bags. “Here’s your ibuprofen. This is for your coughing, this one’s for the fever. This one just in case your stomach doesn’t feel well. They said it might be a problem. I don’t know so I just said I’d take it.” He sifts through the other bag. “Here’s the soup you like from the Chinese place down the street. If you don’t feel like soup, I also have porridge. You take your pick, but you need to eat something.” He shakes the third bag. “This is like, snacks and stuff. I also have chocolate and stuff but I’m not sure if you should be eating that right now. You need water.”

He leaves to get water from the kitchen, leaving you bewildered and surrounded by medication, food, drinks, and snacks. He comes back, with a wet towel and a cup of water. “I can feel the heat radiating from you. Come here.” He dabs at your neck and arms with the ice-cold cloth, making you wince and shift away. “Baby, you’re going to burn up again if I don’t do this. You eat up.”

You stiffen slightly at the nickname but let it pass, taking your first bite of soup. You’re both silent as you eat, and he continues to fret over you like a mother hen.

“I’m fine, Lando, please just sit down.”

He sits, still fidgeting with your blankets.

“I’m sorry, [name].”

You sigh. “I know you are. Don’t you have work to do, Lando?” It wasn’t unkind, but the bite in your voice made him flinch.

“You’re more important than work, baby.”

“I wish you would have made that decision 6 months ago. I’m sorry too Lando, but I don’t think we’re going to work. Thank you for all this though. I’ll take it as your last apology.” You smile weakly, “It’s not going to mend the bridge. This was your choice, you wanted us to be no more than fuckbuddies.” He winces again at your crass words. “It’s true, and you know it.”

He looks down at his hands, “I know. I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair – and I’m not ashamed of you, you know that right?” He looks at you, and you stare back, eyes brimming. “You’re an amazing person. I don’t deserve you.” He wipes away the single tear rolling down your face. “I’m going to miss you.” He twiddles his thumbs uneasily. “Would it be okay if I stayed today? Just for today. You’re sick and I don’t want to leave you like this.”

“Okay. Just for today.” You give in, savoring his scent for the very last time.

After washing up, you snuggle into your bed together.

“Did you stay here yesterday as well? I thought I heard your voice.”

“Kind of. Between eating and sleeping. I was worried.”

“You’re a creep.”

“Hey, I was concered.”

“That’s stalking, that is.” You smile, and he smiles back, reaching over and pulling you tight into his chest and kissing you on the top of your head.

“You’re going to catch a cold – you need to race this weekend.” Your voice comes out muffled.

“I wish you could come with me.”

“Well, I can’t, Lan.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I.”

You’re lulled to sleep by the sound of his heartbeat. When you wake up the next day, the only thing left of him is his hoodie he was wearing, hugged tightly to your chest.

a/n: im new idk how to do this

#f1 imagine #lando x reader #ln4 x reader #f1 fanfic #formula one imagines #formula 1 fic #first fic #lando norris angst

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sstormyskyess · 6 months

Text

Pub Nights

author's note: i imagine the boys are very unique when they're drunk and we all know they're not immune to getting just a bit more tipsy than they maybe should be, so here's what i cooked up!

cw: fluff, alcohol/drinking, intoxication, slight possessive behavior, a little sleazy behavior [not from any of the boys], cuddling, suggestive comments/acts

word count: 1700+

TF-141 x GN!Reader

Simon “Ghost” Riley [protective]

♡ You know how a lot people get less aware of their surroundings when they’re drunk? Not Ghost. He gets almost paranoid when he’s had a little too much to drink.

♡ Usually, this manifests in him always needing to have you in his line of sight, or better yet right next to him at all times. It’s hard to reason with him in this state; it’s possible, but it’s rare you’ll get him to just relax a bit before you end up needing to take him home.

Simon’s hand tightens on your waist, pulling you just a little closer. Someone across the bar had been eyeing you up for the past few minutes, something that you hadn’t noticed but he has. You look at him, confused. “What’s wrong, hun?” You tilt your head. He just grumbles and averts his gaze back down to the nearly empty glass of bourbon in his hand. You frown and wrap your hand gently around his wrist. “Simon?” You prompt again.

He sighs and turns to you, meeting your concerned eyes. “It’s nothing, love.” You start to believe him before his eyes snap up again looking past you to the person of interest again. He had started to move, approaching the two of you. A bold move, considering the fact that you had a 6’4” behemoth of a man playing guard dog by your side.

“Hey, sweetheart. You going home alone tonight?” The other man asks. Your eyes narrow and you scoot just a bit closer to Simon. “No, I’m with him actually.” The breath is pushed out of you when Simon’s arm wraps around your midsection and squeezes you tightly to his side. If this other guy was close enough, he’d be able to hear him growling next to you. “Piss off, ya fuckin’ wanker.” He hisses at the guy. At the sound of Simon’s voice, he immediately backed off, hands up and muttering a quick ‘sorry,’ before walking away.

You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding and Simon’s arm loosens just a little. “Thank you, Si.” You kiss him on his clothed cheek, attempting to stop him glaring daggers at the retreating man. “He’s not coming back, baby. It’s okay.” You smile when he lets out a quick huff and fully relaxes his hold on you. “Let’s go home, yeah?” He murmurs, satisfied when you nod and start gathering your things.

John “Soap” Mactavish [sensual]

♡ Soap is going to be all over you, whether you’re drinking at home or not. Wandering eyes, grabby hands, an abundance of kisses—he wants to show you just how much he loves you in all the best ways.

♡ With a stocky Scotsman attached at the hip, it’s common that you’ll end up being assaulted by kisses and trapped in his arms for the rest of the night until he finally falls asleep for the night [a lot of the time, he’s falling asleep on the couch and you have to either drag him or urge him to his feet to get him in bed.]

It was a miracle that you and Johnny managed to get home tonight. You ended up having to get Price to drive the both of you home; you’d have to apologize for making out in the back of his car like a couple of horny teenagers, but that could wait until the morning. For now, you were just worried about not stumbling too much on the short walk down the hall that you had to make to get to your apartment door.

Somehow, you made it all the way inside and to your nice comfy bed. Yes, the bedsprings were a little worn out and yes, the mattress was getting a little lumpy, but that was irrelevant right now. It was hard to focus on anything else other than your boyfriend halfway laying on top of you with his lips connected to the skin on your neck and shoulders, painting you with lovebites and hickeys that you weren’t sure you’d be able to hide in the morning.

“I’m gonna have you up ‘til morning, bonnie, I swear—” He cuts himself off by biting down on you again, his hands slipping under your clothes to take big handfuls of all the plumpest parts of your body. “Can’t wait to hear you moanin’ tonight, y’sound so good…” He smiles against your skin when you whimper quietly at his words. It morphs into a giggle and you playfully try to pull away from him. “I don’t wanna get a noise complaint, Johnny!”

He just takes the opportunity to start stripping you, your shirt coming first so he could bury his face in your chest and start kissing you up and down there too. “Don’t care who hears us, they’ll have to bring it up with me anyway.” His words are muffled by your chest, the vibrations of his voice tickling you and making you giggle again.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick [mushy]

♡ Gaz gets very loose-lipped when he’s drunk. He’ll go on and on about how wonderful you are, and how much you’ve changed his life for the better, and that you’ve made him the happiest man alive.

♡ He gets very embarrassed about it the first few times you see him like that, but eventually you’re able to convince him that it’s just adorable and he’s got no reason to worry. In fact, it was the way he ended up confessing to you, so as much as it can get overbearing, this little quirk would always have a soft spot in your heart.

“Wait. What did you just say?” You turn to Kyle with an incredulous look on your face. There’s no way in hell you heard that right. Did you? Kyle just smiles at you and bumps shoulders with you. “I said that you made my life better more than anyone else has,” he rests his head on yours, “oh! And, that I love you. So, so much.”

Well, that was unexpected. You go silent for a few moments as Kyle sways a bit. He’s definitely had a little too much to drink. You support him with an arm around his shoulders and help get him to his feet, struggling under his weight at your side. “Let’s get you home, okay? You need rest.” He nods in response and lets you take him out to his car. Once you get him buckled into the passenger’s seat, you start the trip back to his flat, all the while he’s trying to hold your hand. Eventually you give in, a small smile on your face.

Once you’re back at his place, you’re faced with the task of getting him to his room to get him ready for bed, at least the best you could. “Thank you for taking me home, love.” He’s practically dead weight on you as you lug him to his room and sit him on his head. He immediately lays back, letting you pat his forehead. “Of course, Kyle. No need to thank me.” You smile. “Can you manage getting undressed by yourself?” He nods and you leave to get him some hangover remedies prepared.

You ended up asleep on Kyle’s couch with him—after he followed you there from his bedroom— with his arm around your midsection and him mumbling confessions of his affections all the way up until you fell asleep. You never realized how he felt about you; apparently, he hid it very well. The funny thing is, you felt exactly the same about him. You did have to wonder though: would he really still feel the same tomorrow? Hopefully he would, or your current position would be very odd.

John Price [sleepy]

♡ When Price breaches the barrier between tipsy and drunk, he quite honestly is ready to go home and hold you tight before getting a good night’s rest.

♡ The moment you get home you’re being dragged to bed, whether you like it or not, even if you want to go along with your usual nighttime routine. Hell, you’d be lucky to even get fully undressed before he’s pulling you under the covers.

You put one of your hands over John’s where they were resting on your stomach, kneading the plush there. He had been hovering behind you the entire time you were getting ready for bed. He was making it increasingly difficult to get anything done, especially getting undressed and into your sleepwear. With his arms practically locked around you, wiggling out of your clubbing outfit was near impossible.

“John, let go for a second—” You squeak when you get hoisted off the ground; the very second you finish drying your face after washing it, he was carrying you to bed and plopping you both down, his face buried in your shoulder. “You’re ready for bed already, darling.” He grumbles deep in his chest. You practically hear the pout on his face as he speaks. “I’m not even undressed yet—” You sigh deeply. “Fine, fine, I’m staying. Can I at least get some water first, though?” No response.

“John, we should really get some water…” You mumble into John’s chest, your voice muffled by his shirt. He just pulls you closer, his hand playing at the nape of your neck and the small of your back. You huff, trying to push yourself away from him. You look up at him with a frown on your face “John, c’mon, let go…” You whine. But before you could even try to escape his hold again, he was dead asleep.

You groan quietly and try to slip your clothes off despite his ironclad grip only managing to make it out of your shoes and the clothes covering your lower half. You had to wait for another ten minutes before his grip finally loosened enough for you to get up and get fully undressed and into your night clothes, as well as getting a glass of water to chug down.

Once you make it back to the bedroom, you realize you must have woken him up because he’s sitting against the headboard, waiting for you. When you walk in, he’s already trying to get up to grab you again, so you hurry to get in bed so as to not make him leave the bed. You’re almost immediately being crushed again and he’s falling asleep again, an adoring smile coming to your face as you rub his back up and down to soothe him back to sleep.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

682 notes · View notes

freemansgirl · 8 months

Note

Loved the jock Amber, how about her with a nerd reader?

aww thank you, that means a lot to me! ofc, i can do jock!ambs x nerd!reader, love the brains x brawns duo we got going on here💁🏿‍♀️ pls lmk if you like this, anon ☺️

jock!amber x nerd!reader

SFW

* when first seeing amber, you found her really attractive, even if a jock wasn’t the typical person you go for based off the rumors you hear of them or how they are portrayed in media. what started off as a small, innocent class crush turned into a very, serious crush. you always wanted to talk to her, but she was someone that had a very hard exterior to her. she could be bitchy to other classmates and always had a resting bitch face. as intimidating as she was, she found herself taking in interest in you.

* most of her teammates in the locker room would encourage amber to get with popular “hot” girls or a girl with a status to her. just the typical locker room talk but she ignored them of course. “what about that liv girl, isn’t she hot to you?” “i appreciate the suggestion but i got my eyes on someone else.”

* she always sneaks little glances at you during class, admiring how cute you look. you looked so pretty when concentrating on the class subject. she admired how smart you were too, you always had the answers to every question the teacher asked.

* she took notice of you in class when the teacher suggested a group assignment. it was the perfect opportunity for her to talk to you. amber picked you as her partner. not only were you just smart and well-spoken, but you were beautiful and kept to yourself. more things that she liked about you.

* you felt nervous because you always caught her checking you out with her rbf so the fact she picked you caught you off guard. however, amber was… surprisingly level-headed and nice, not the typical airhead, loud, and mean jock stereotype.

* the two of you exchanged numbers and always would try to make time to study after school to prepare for the group project. usually, amber would never really take time off of football practice for anyone, because she was someone who took sports seriously, but for you, she did. amber helps with grabbing whatever books you needed and would assist w the work for the group project.

* when it came to you two being group partners, amber wanted to get closer so she’d invite you over at her place.

* when she learned about your interests, she found them really cool actually. she liked hearing you ramble and get so passionate, she finds it adorable. there wasn’t any judgment whatsoever. she liked that your interests weren’t like the stereotypical, average person’s interests.

* “amber? are you there? am i boring you with my constant talking about my interests? i know they’re a bit… “nerdy” and all.” what? no. of course not, i love hearing you talk about these things.” she thinks you are the cutest nerd she has ever seen. if anything, you’re her cute nerd🤷🏿‍♀️.(she cant rlly judge you anyway considering she is a big fan for stab. shes just as much of a nerd as you.)

* when seeing you write notes for anything, she compliments your handwriting

* thinks you look cute with glasses if you wear them

* she likes to get you things related to what you like. favorite book series? already checked it out at the library. favorite movie series? buys it for movie nights at her place. video games? already installed on a console. whatever it is you like, she’ll find a way to surprise you.

* she has definitely gotten you a cute oversized onesie of a fictional character you love before, thinks you look so cute walking around her room in it.

* loves to take off and manage her time for you. if you need help w something, she is always there for you especially w studying. she also likes to go to you for any type of tutoring.

*walks you to all of your classes, hand in hand with a lot of pride in her face because she adores having you!!

* takes you home if no one can after you spend a long time studying a library or from some type of club. she doesn’t want you to walk alone hurt and unsafe.

* she likes to invite you to her football practices and to football games because she feels like seeing you support her gives her motivation to win the games.

* she always gives you one of her jackets or a hoodie of hers to provide you some sort of comfort.

* if any of her friends try to tease amber about how she has the hots for you (because usually she’s not the corny type but with you she is), she’ll lightly throw a football at them to shut them up.

* if anyone talks badly or inappropriately about you in the locker room, she’ll literally go off on them and find a way to punish them as a football captain. she’ll probably make them do hella pushups with her foot on their back or make them run around the gym a lot of times.

NSFW

* sapiosexual for sureee, i think she’d get very turned on by how smart you are. i mean how can she not be in a nerd x jock dynamic?

* so unlike the stereotypical pushy, overly sexual jock, who try to make their girlfriends give it up to them… amber is actually very gentle with you. she’d never push or force herself onto you. she’s patient and willing to wait for when you’re comfortable with her.

* likes to fuck you with her jersey on, it gives her the biggest ego boost honestly. also she likes fucking you with glasses on bc you know… glasses are sexy🤭

* during study sessions at the library, if amber is in one of her horny moods, she’d try to persuade you to go the bathroom w her and just give her a quickie. or just go there for horny moods in general

* for any shy ppl reading this, amber would love if youre shy and quiet in bed. it’s just a turn on for her and it makes her wanna fuck you even more just to draw more moans from you.

* after she wins a game, fucking you is one of her favorite ways to celebrate

* if you’re trying to study or just simply doing work at a library, amber would definitely use a sex toy vibrator on you to tease you. the more she can switch the settings, the better :)

* after a long aggravating football practice of someone pissing her off, she’d had sex too to just blow her steam. it can be at the locker rooms or at her place tbh.

* gym bathroom sex happens after you watch her work out and you get sooo turned on by how she works on her muscles. “i see you checking me out, (your name). if you want something from me, do be afraid to say what it is you want.” the something meaning sex

* shower sex

* likes to probably eat you out while you’re watching like a favorite movie of yours just to tease and to make enjoying fave movie even more fun ;)

#amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #scream 5 #scream x reader #scream x reader headcanons #q’d 🖤

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goingsunnythousandmerry · 26 days

Text

Bedtime with Luffy and Co. @ Udon Prison-Wano

Watching Wano and just couldnt get over the idea of a cozy cuddle puddle after a hard days work. So here it is. Thoughts, ideas, feedback welcome.

Warnings: Just lots of fluff. Cuddling. Cold. Wano spoilers. SFW. Breast resting. Maybe a crush on your Captain.

Features: Luffy, Tama, Chopper, Momo, Luffy

Luffy fluff-Wano

Post taking over Udon prison. It’s before Momo and Tama go back to join the others at her masters house. You all spend the day at the newly freed Udon in different ways. Old man hyo is helping Luffy learn ryuo. Tama is helping Kiki and Raizo by taming the smile powered beast pirates and giving them orders. After helping with this Tama then spends her time playing with them ,of course. Momo is inspired by Luffy and thus, spends his free time training. Chopper and yourself, a nurse prior to joining the Strawhats, are helping heal the injured and those affected by the plague rounds. After a long day of doing your own things you all come together to settle in for the night.

Old man Hyo is passed out already from a long day with Luffy. Raizo and Kiku are standing watch. Luffy is finishing up training. You find yourself in one of the cells lying down to try to get some rest for the night. Momo is curled up against your chest (of course, your breasts make the best pillows). Chopper lays curled into your left side and Tama is against your right. Your arms rest around the three of them, cuddling them close. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. All you can think is how nice it is getting to help Tama and Momo feel safe and loved for a moment after what they’ve been through. You sigh with relief at the peace of the moment you find yourself in.

Suddenly, your eyes flick open to the sound of familiar flip flops drawing closer. You smile as you see Luffy enter the cell.

“Hey.” You say softly trying not to wake the children.

He stops dead in his tracks and grins at you cuddling the two kids and the reindeer against your chest.

“Hey, just wanted to see how you guys were doing. Guess they’re pretty beat, huh?” Luffy asks with a small chuckle.

Tama begins to stir at the sound of Luffy’s voice and sleepily sits up to look over at him.

“Big bro! Did you do it?” She asks with a soft smile while she rubs her eyes a bit.

“Not yet, but tomorrow’s my day, I can feel it!” He replies as he clenches his fists in determination.

“Can I watch?” Tama asks.

“Sure, but for now, let’s get you some rest.” He says sitting next to Tama and yourself.

Tama turns and hugs her big bro cuddling into his chest. He hugs her back. Luffy relaxes as he lays back on the ground next to you. He looks over at you with a smile. Tama looks up at Luffy, keeping her arms wrapped around him. Her eyelids grow heavy as she looks up at him, then nestles her head into his chest.

“Goodnight, big bro.” Tama whispers.

Luffy chuckles and you smile at him. As you look at Luffy, you watch him pet Tama’s head and in a few minutes she’s asleep. As you look at Luffy and Tama, Momo snuggles deeper into your chest and you begin to hear Chopper softly snore.

“You’re not coming back with us tomorrow?” You ask in a hushed tone.

“No, I want to train here a bit longer.”

“Alright, then I’ll stay too.”

“You’ll stay?”

“Someone has to make sure you eat and take breaks during this training, Luffy. Besides, I know you’ll do it, and I want to be here when you do.” You reply with a half smile that turns into a full grin as you watch your captain stare at the ceiling of the prison.

You recognize the familiar expression as you stare at his side profile. His look of determination he gets before all his big fights, furrowed eyebrows, jaw clench, constricted pupils, and clenched fists. Kaido didn’t stand a chance was all you could think.

His expression softens as he turns his head to look over at you, Momo, and Chopper. at You look at each other in silence a moment. Unspoken feelings wanting to burst off the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t speak, he was your captain after all.

As you rest next to Luffy, cuddling the kids, and blue nosed reindeer, a cold breeze blows through the cell. Tama snuggles deeper into Luffy’s chest and you pull the reindeer and boy laying against your chest closer to you. Luffy watches you shiver a moment and scoots closer to your right side where Tama used to be sleeping. His shoulder now rests against yours. You feel your body begin to heat up from the new found closeness. You turn your head to check on Chopper at your other side as you try to conceal a blush.

“Is this okay?” He asks.

“Yeah. Body heat is a good way to stay warm.” You say softly.

Once again, a cold breeeze blows through the cell and you shiver. Luffy feels this and wraps an arm over your shoulder. You watch as he lifts Chopper from your side and rests him against his abdomen.

“Chopper’s got warm fur, he should be in the middle” He says with a sweet grin.

Luffy then stretches his arm back around you and pulls you and Momo into his side. You turn on your side and wrap your arm over Momo and Chopper setting it to rest on Luffy’s chest. You snuggle into his chest and snake your hand under his kimono to rest on his peck, without thinking. Your eyes flick open as you remember that this is captain. It’s just cold and he’s so… so warm was all you could think.

“Sorry Captain.” You say as you try to pull away and lay back at his side.

Luffy quickly pulls you back against him. You look up at him and his eyes are closed. He’s got a soft smile sitting across his face. You smile back at him taking it as permission to use him to fight the cold. You tuck your head under his chin and a few seconds later he lays his head on top of yours. You lay in silence and listen to his breathing and focus on the feeling of your body against his. You open your eyes and admire him and the small family you have cuddled with you. You grin from ear to ear and soften back against Luffy’s chest. You close your eyes again and begin to hear Luffy snore. You snuggle in deeper to him as you try to enjoy the moment of closeness, before you fall into a deep sleep.

#one piece fluff #one piece fanfiction #monkey d luffy x reader #luffy x you #luffy x reader #fluff #fanfic #luffy fluff #one piece x reader #one piece scenario #luffy x y/n

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estapa-edwards · 2 months

Text

THAT WAY -- ETHAN EDWARDS x fem! READER

paring : ethan edwards x fem! reader

word count: 2078

requested? yes; Can you do a request for Ethan Edwards in which he meets the reader in a class which makes them friends and then everyone thinks they are together and they’re secretly both liking each other as more than friends as well?

warnings: use of y/n

As I stepped into the sports management classroom for the first time, I felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. The room was filled with eager students, all chatting and getting settled in their seats. I found an empty chair near the back and took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves.

The professor, a tall man with glasses, began introducing himself and outlining the course syllabus. I listened intently, taking notes and trying to absorb as much information as possible. As the class progressed, I couldn't help but notice a guy sitting a few rows ahead of me. He had a confident demeanor and seemed to be engaged in the discussion, raising thoughtful questions and participating actively.

After the class ended, I gathered my belongings and made my way towards the exit. As I was walking out, I accidentally bumped into the same guy I had noticed earlier - Ethan Edwards.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, feeling embarrassed.

Ethan looked up and smiled, "No worries! It's a crowded class, and it's easy to bump into someone."

I smiled back, relieved by his friendly response. "I'm new here," I admitted. "Trying to find my way around and get to know people."

Ethan extended his hand, "I'm Ethan. It's nice to meet you."

"I'm y/n," I replied, shaking his hand.

"I'm running late to hockey practice, but it was nice talking to you, y/n," Ethan said, checking his watch.

"Yeah, you too, Ethan," I replied, smiling as I began to walk away.

"Wait," Ethan called out, causing me to turn back and face him. "Can I get your number?" He had a genuine smile on his face, which made my heart skip a beat.

"Of course," I said, feeling a rush of excitement.

A few months had passed since that conversation with Ethan, and I had since landed an internship as the media girl for the Umich socials. This new role brought Ethan and me even closer, as I got to spend more time with him and the hockey team, covering their practices and games. We studied together almost everyday.

I was sitting at a table in the library, textbooks and notes spread out in front of me as I focused on my studies. Ethan was sitting across from me, also engrossed in his own work.

"Hey, y/n," Ethan said, glancing up from his book. "Do you understand this chapter? I'm having a hard time with it."

I looked up and smiled at him. "Yeah, it's a bit confusing, but I think I've got the hang of it. Want me to help you out?"

Ethan nodded gratefully, pushing his book towards me. "That would be great, thanks."

As Ethan and I delved into the study material, I noticed Mark and Rutger walking past our table, their eyes lingering on us as they exchanged amused glances.

Mark leaned in towards Rutger, whispering something that made Rutger chuckle, both of them clearly finding something funny about Ethan and me studying together.

Trying to ignore their teasing, I focused on explaining the chapter to Ethan. "So, basically, the key concept here is..."

Before I could finish my explanation, Mark and Rutger stopped at our table, their grins widening as they decided to join in on the fun.

"Wow, look at you two, hitting the books together. How romantic," Mark commented, feigning a swoon as he dramatically placed a hand over his heart.

Rutger nodded in agreement, smirking at Ethan and me. "Yes, it's a true love story for the ages. Study partners today, soulmates tomorrow," he added, laughing.

Ethan rolled his eyes at their playful teasing but couldn't hide his smile. "Come on, guys, we're just trying to get some work done," he said, trying to steer the conversation back to our studies.

I chuckled at Ethan's response, feeling a bit flustered by Mark and Rutgers jokes but also amused by their playful antics. "Ignore them, Ethan. Let's get back to the chapter," I said, trying to regain our focus. Mark and Rutger laugh and start walking away

Ethan rolled his eyes and called out after them, "How many times do we have to tell you we aren't dating?"

I felt a twinge of annoyance at Ethan's response, though I wasn't sure why. His casual dismissal of the situation and the assumption behind Mark and Rutgers teasing seemed to strike a nerve. I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the feeling.

"Ethan, maybe they wouldn't tease us so much if you didn't play into it," I said, my tone sharper than I intended.

Ethan looked taken aback by my comment, his playful demeanor fading as he realized he might have upset me. "Sorry, y/n..."

I cut him off, "Let's just get back to studying, Ethan," I said, my tone a bit firmer than before.

Later that night, I found myself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. The events of the day replayed in my mind, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Ethan. The way he smiled, the sound of his voice, and the ease with which we spent time together had been on my mind constantly. 'Does he even think of me that way?' I wondered, my mind thinking back to the time he held my hand a little longer than necessary or when he would touch my thigh when we sat next to each other.

Sitting side by side on Ethan's couch, we were engrossed in watching a movie together. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow from the TV casting a warm ambiance. As the film's tension built, Ethan's hand rested close to mine on the cushion between us.

Suddenly, during a particularly intense scene, I felt Ethan's hand shift slightly, his fingers grazing my thigh. The touch was subtle but deliberate, sending a jolt of excitement through me. My heart raced as I glanced over at him, wondering if he had meant to make such a bold move. Ethan's eyes met mine briefly, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, before returning his attention to the movie.

I jolted up and said, "Oh god, I think I like Ethan."

After their practice one day, it was time to ask the 'Monday Question'. I set up the camera, adjusting the angle and checking the lighting, and waited patiently until the players started coming up the stairs. Rutger was the first one up.

"Alright Rut, who on the team would you not let date your daughter?" I asked, getting straight to the point.

Rutger chuckled, glancing towards Ethan who was waiting his turn to be interviewed. "I would have to say Ethan, since you guys are dating," he laughed, sending a playful wink towards Ethan as he walked away.

Ethan and I both rolled our eyes at Rutgers' comment. "Rutger, we aren't dating, come back and give an actual answer," I called out.

Rutger laughed, turning back towards the camera. "Alright, alright, I'd probably say Mark. He's a bit of a wild card and I wouldn't want my hypothetical daughter getting caught up in his antics."

"Good choice," I replied, nodding in agreement.

Luca was next in line for his interview. As he approached, he grinned mischievously, clearly enjoying the opportunity to continue the teasing.

"Alright, Ethan, I've got to ask," Luca began, looking directly into the camera. "Are you and y/n actually dating, or is it all just a rumor?"

I glanced at Ethan, curious to see how he would respond to the direct question. Ethan looked at me, his eyes softening with sincerity before turning back to the camera.

"We are just friends, that's all we'll ever be," Ethan replied, his voice steady but his eyes briefly meeting mine. I felt my heart ping, a mixture of disappointment and understanding washing over me.

The atmosphere among the players shifted slightly, sensing the underlying tension between Ethan and me.

"Alright, thanks Ethan," I said

Ethan nodded, offering me a small, reassuring smile as he stepped away from the camera. "Anytime," he said softly, his eyes lingering on mine for a moment longer than necessary before he turned to join the rest of his teammates. I finished the rest of the video, but couldn't help thinking about what Ethan said.

Ethan's POV:

A wave of guilt washed over me. Mark and Rutgers teasing had planted a seed of doubt in my mind, and my attempts to downplay our relationship had been misleading. The truth was, I genuinely liked y/n, more than I had initially realized.

Ethan and y/n sat on the floor of his room, surrounded by textbooks, notes, and laptops. They had been studying for hours, the soft hum of background music filling the room. The atmosphere was comfortable, and both were engrossed in their work.

Ethan glanced over at y/n, watching her as she focused intently on her laptop screen, her brows furrowed in concentration. He was struck by how effortlessly beautiful she looked, even in this simple setting.

He found himself captivated by the way her eyes would occasionally light up with understanding or how she would bite her lip when deep in thought. The way she laughed at his silly jokes or how she would playfully roll her eyes at his occasional teasing comments made his heart flutter.

As they took a short break, Ethan decided to play one of his favorite songs. The soft melody filled the room, adding a touch of romance to the atmosphere.

Ethan turned to y/n, their eyes meeting. In that moment, a wave of realization washed over him. He wasn't just enjoying her company as a friend; he was falling for her. Her laughter, her smile, her intelligence – everything about her was drawing him in, making him want to know more about her, to be with her.

Later that evening, Ethan found me as I was packing up my equipment. "Hey, y/n," he said, his voice gentle. "I hope I didn't make things awkward earlier. I just thought it would be best to clarify things for the team."

I looked up at him, searching his eyes for sincerity. "It's okay, Ethan," I replied, forcing a smile. "I understand."

Ethan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, y/n, it's not that I don't have feelings for you..."

"Ethan, it's okay. We don't have to discuss this," I said, my tone coming out ruder than I intended. I turned my body away from him.

He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before speaking again. "You know, y/n, there are so many things I admire and love about you. Your passion for what you do, your kindness towards others, and the way you always know how to make me smile even on my worst days." I braced myself before turning back around.

His eyes softened as he continued, "I love how you're always there for me, no matter what, and how you always know just what to say to lift my spirits. Your laughter is infectious, and your strength inspires me every day."

Ethan paused, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. . "And let's not forget your incredible talent and dedication. Y/n, I love you, and I can't risk losing you," he admitted, his voice filled with emotion and vulnerability.

I felt my heart skip a beat at his confession, my own feelings for him echoing his sentiments. "Ethan," I whispered, my voice choked with emotion. "I love you too."

Ethan's eyes widened slightly, his gaze searching mine for confirmation. "Really?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief and hope.

I nodded, a tear slipping down my cheek. "Yes, Ethan, I really do," I said softly, my heart swelling with love and relief.

A radiant smile broke across Ethan's face, and he pulled me into a tight embrace, holding me close as if afraid I might disappear. "I'm so relieved to hear you say that, y/n," he murmured against my hair, his voice thick with emotion.

Feeling reassured and grateful, I leaned in to press a gentle kiss on Ethan's lips, sealing our promises to each other. "I love you, Ethan," I whispered against his lips, feeling his arms tighten around me in response.

"I love you too, y/n," Ethan whispered back, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST!

i might make a part 2 as a social media au!

#Spotify #ethan edwards #ethan edwards x y/n #ethan edwards x reader #umich hockey #hockey

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seravphs · 10 months

Text

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — IDOL! GOJO x ROCKSTAR! FEM READER

Gojo loves the untouchable. You’re an off limits rockstar who thinks he’s an idiot. The only thing he can do is take that as a challenge, right?

wc — 6.8k

tags — non detailed mention of idol industry EDs, pride and prejudice type energy tbh, reader is a little superior about being in a rock band and not “selling out”, Gojo has an annoying habit of pointing out their hypocrisy, sneaking around because you’re public figures, nsfw jokes, minor nongraphic blood

Gojo’s not your usual type. He’s too pretty for that, with those long lashes like a doll’s. They’re stark against his pale skin when he flirts with you, peering alluringly at you through half closed eyes like the cheap tricks that get his fangirls to scream will work on you.

He’s too easy to break for your taste, but from what you hear on Twitter, that’s why people like him. There’s something charming about the gap in his image that draws people in. People are dying for a taste of vulnerability because he's so cocky, but it's easy to make him beg.

There’s a million clips all over the internet of the moments he’s caught off guard, carefully hoarded instances in his career where a genuine embarrassed flush comes over his cheekbones, made into gifs and Tik Toks and YouTube videos.

That’s not your thing.

You like people with tough hearts and tougher reputations. People who could take the beating of public opinion without a flinch, not some soft spoken idol who needs his management to hold his hand through an apology. You like your fans, but they know their limit with you.

It’s not love, not like with an idol. It would never be, you made sure of it. You’d quit before you ever issued an apology for dating someone.

You hate to be a stereotype almost as much as you hate the idea of becoming a pushover, but you’ve dated a string of bad boy exes who were all exactly what you would expect for the lead singer of a rock band. A little rough around the edges, dark and smoldering. Men who would wear your red lipstick marks like a badge of honor. People who had never even heard of something like an idol image.

Maybe that’s why no one saw it coming. You were safe, established. Gojo was out of your usual pitch.

It’s too bad for the fans that you’ve always been a bit of a daredevil. Trying new things has never scared you. You’ve always been willing to test your limits to find the gold in the muck. That’s how you grow.

That’s how you ended up here, sitting thigh to thigh with the boy wonder of the idol industry.

“Aren’t you playing a dangerous game here?” You ask as he nudges even closer to you, far beyond what you’re sure his fans will permit. You’ve heard horror stories about the lengths people will go to if they see their idols even look at someone of the opposite gender.

“Why, you scared?”

“You wish. You’re the idol here. It’s your reputation on the line.”

He smiles at you, saccharine sweet. “I don’t like letting other people control me.”

That earns your begrudging respect, even if his bony knee is knocking into yours. He’s so lanky it makes you a touch concerned. Shoko’s girlfriend is an idol, and she’s constantly sneaking her food under her manager’s notice.

That’s another reason why you could never be an idol. Letting someone else dictate your life like that sounds like hell. It was hard enough to convince you to be here in the first place.

Your band doesn’t do promotion, least of all you. It’s all homegrown talent and homegrown fans, but you’re in stasis. Your growth has plateaued. Like all artists, you’re beholden to bills to pay to keep the music going. You’re big enough to know when you have to make sacrifices.

It’s nothing personal. That’s just the industry, from pop stars to idols to bands like you. If nothing else, you all share the solidarity of giving anything for the music. You just think you have a harder limit for anything than idols do.

The host kicks off the segment before you have time to do further analysis.

“Welcome back to Hot or Not, the variety show where we pit your favorite internet heartthrobs against each other! Please welcome today’s guests - they may not be the duo you expect!”

The camera pans to you and Gojo. His smile is instant, soft and natural, as real as if he were genuinely overjoyed to be here. You have to give him props for that, at least. He’s good at his job.

As soon as the camera pans to you, his expression flickers and returns to bored disinterest. He yawns, his teeth pearly white. Veneers, maybe. His tongue flicks around the sharp tip of one canine, his smirk nearly fanged. There’s the feature he’s so famous for, the one that has him edited into cat reaction memes all across the internet. Kitty Gojo and his kitten fangs.

He’s a grown man. You think you’d jump off a building before you let your teenage girl fans put cat ears on you and coo at you.

To each their own, you guess. Gojo didn’t seem that perturbed by it. To be fair, he didn’t seem perturbed by anything.

“Let’s start with Gojo! Remember, if you don’t feel like answering a question, we’ll put you in a surprise challenge with your partner.”

“Sure,” he says easily. “I’m an open book.”

“Let’s start easy. What’s your favorite song off your new album, Blue Spring?”

Gojo makes a face. “Pass.”

“Sorry, maybe you didn’t understand the question-“

“No, I got it. That’s boring,” he says. “Give me the challenge.”

You’re amused despite yourself, and fighting not to let it show. There’s the troublesome personality you’ve heard so much about. He wouldn’t be half so popular if he wasn’t so pretty, but that attitude and that face made for a dangerous combination.

The host is trying to salvage the situation with an easygoing laugh. Backstage, you hear someone mutter, “Gojo is gojo-ing again.”

It’s all so funny until you realize he’s dragging you into his mess as they set up the challenge.

Your host explains the rules too quickly for you to catch in their entirety, but it’s something along the lines of a staring contest. You’re supposed to do everything in your power to make the other lose a straight face, with words or actions.

“Are you allowed to do this?” You joke as they start strapping the electrodes on you to measure your heart rate.

“What do you mean?” Gojo’s mussing his hair up so he looks more artistically roguish.

“You know, just being an idol and all. I figured you wouldn’t be able to do things like this without your fangirls jumping on you.”

“Ah,” he says, scooting his chair closer to you. You’re knee to knee as they finish the last details of fiddling with machine. “You’re one of those types?”

“And that means?”

“You think I’m an idiot because I’m an idol.”

“I didn’t say that,” you protest, watching the monitor to make sure your heart rate isn’t jumping with your words. It’s just a game, but you’re competitive.

“No, but you’re thinking it. What else? Maybe you think idols are also soulless grifters?”

You wince. It’s not that you think so terribly of idols, per se, you just understand and recognize their need to please their company. They’re products before they’re people.

“I got it right, huh?” He’s pleased with himself.

“Am I wrong?” You retort. “You’re really going to tell me you love singing your overproduced pop music for the tween girls who will buy anything you put out as long as you’re pretty enough?”

“Aren’t you here too? Lot of talk for someone who’s sitting right next to the sellout. You know what they say about birds of a feather…”

It’s all in a whisper, so no one else hears - or sees your startled reaction to find out the pampered show dog has a little bite in him. You could retaliate, but if you’re being honest?

This makes you respect him more.

He’s right, anyway. You did sell out by being on this show.

The machine beeps. He smiles, slow and sweet - or at least it would be if you didn’t already know there was an edge to it. “I win.”

“Wow!” You’ve never found the host more annoying. “That got heated at the end, didn’t it, folks? Do you mind sharing what Gojo said?”

You smile at the camera in a way that feels more like you’re beating your teeth. “It’s a secret.”

You’re not mad at him. If anything, you’re impressed. The person you’re really disappointed with is yourself.

So he’s not what he thought you were. So he challenged your biased preconceptions on idols. So what?

It doesn’t mean anything, but you can’t get him out of your head.

The rest of the show is an easy and welcome distraction from your inner turmoil over the possibility of maybe potentially tolerating an idol. Throwing out witty answers and being neck to neck with Gojo in winning mini games is much preferable to having to experience emotions. It’s only when it’s over that the problems start.

You watch as he gets up, biting your lip and debating to yourself. It’s only when he’s halfway out the door that you make your decision. You’ve always been a do or die kind of girl.

“Hey. Want to get dinner?”

You just want to make sure he’s eating. No other reason.

His manager frowns behind him.

“We’re in a weird spot,” he says. “The only thing around are convenience stores.”

“That’s fine,” you say. “We can get instant ramen.”

“I’ve never had instant noodles,” Gojo says.

“Seriously?”

“No, not seriously,” he scoffs. “Just what kind of lives do you think we lead?”

“Deprived ones,” you toss over your shoulder as you lead him towards your monster of a customized car.

“Oh, no,” his manager is beginning, but Gojo is already sliding comfortably into the passenger seat. His poor manager looks nervously at you as you turn the keys. “Are you sure that thing is safe?”

“Don’t worry,” you tell him. “If this thing crashes, I’m in here too.”

You don’t think that reassures him, but your own manager will handle it. You pull out of the parking space and head for the road.

Gojo’s impatient. He tries the handle almost before you’re done parking. You’re like that too - always ready to move. This time, you’re one step ahead. You lock the door before he can leave. He gives you a startled look and glances outside again, clearly weighing his options.

“Relax,” you say. “I’m not a crazed fan. Put these on before we attract an actual stalker of yours.”

You toss him a hat, sunglasses, and a mask. You’ve started keeping them in your car ever since you’ve been hanging out with Shoko and her girlfriend, who was famous enough to get recognized in the street for her autograph. He wrinkles his nose but obediently puts them on.

It doesn’t do much to hide his overall air of Gojo-ness. He steps into the store like he owns it, which he very well could.

The steam rises from your bowls and coats Gojo’s sunglasses. You’re surprised he can see inside, but he has no trouble navigating. He tells you he has 20/20 vision.

One thing leads to another and suddenly he’s bragging about his perfect grades when he attended school. He’s a natural genius, which isn’t really a surprise.

“I thought you were supposed to be a bad boy,” you tease. His glasses are slipping down his nose. You reach out to push them back up before anyone notices. His eyes are rather remarkable, after all. Anyone would be able to tell who he was at a glance.

“Me?” He gives a choked laugh. It sounds nice. You’ve haven’t heard it before, not during the show. He was more polished then. The ways in which he rebels against being an idol show up unexpectedly. “Nah. That’s all Getou. He’s the one with a hidden face. You wouldn’t believe what he’s like when the cameras are off.”

“Somehow I don’t believe you,” you joke.

“I’m serious,” he whines. “I’m pretty sheltered. Grew up rich, you know?”

Who doesn’t know? The Gojo name is pretty famous. One of the biggest conglomerates in the entire world, it broke major news outlets when the heir chose to be an idol instead of the next president.

He’s always been in the public eye, but kept separate like art at a museum. You have a nasty tendency of wanting to ruin things that you’ve been purposefully warned away from. It’s sort of a thing of yours, a bad habit you haven’t put too much effort into breaking. The more impermissible something is, the more likely you are to try, like a cat knocking a glass of water off a table.

Corruptible isn’t the exact right word, but it’s what comes to mind. You want to mess him up a little. Put your grubby rockstar hands on him and leave smears behind so his fangirls see his tainted reputation. You don’t, of course. It’s just a passing thought that you wouldn’t risk actually jeopardizing his career for.

It would just be nice to see him live a little more freely.

The temptation clears with the last of your noodles disappearing into your mouth. There are things that are off limits for both of you. Those are just the sacrifices you’ve made for your dreams. That’s all there is to it.

It’s so good you sigh at the loss of it, mourning your empty bowl. Gojo’s almost done himself. The minute he finished his noodles, he lets out a breath to mirror yours, then laughs once he catches himself.

“Come on,” you say. “Let’s get you home.”

You think that’s the end of it. There’s no reason to go any further. You met an idol and he obliterated your previously held prejudices. You’ll never meet again.

That’s not quite how it works out.

When your manager offers you another chance to see Gojo, it’s nonchalant. “Remember that idol you were partnered with on that variety show? I know you don’t like those types, but you seemed to tolerate him well enough. There’s another-“

A yes flies out of your mouth so quickly it’s embarrassing.

Your manager pauses. His eyes narrow. “Didn’t expect you to be so eager, but okay.”

Your face burns with embarrassment. This isn’t like you at all. Even with your exes, you had been cool and level headed. Always the prize, never the one to give chase.

He’s interesting, you try to rationalize it to yourself. You like interesting. Life was mind numbing without a kick, and he was the latest thrill. It didn’t mean anything more.

It’s another variety show. Apparently the two of you had been so popular as a pair that they wanted more.

Gojo’s in the makeup chair when you arrive. The artist is scolding him for blinking while she applies his mascara. He’s whining about his dry eyes.

“Don’t be a baby,” you say, dropping into the chair next to him.

“But that’s what I’m best at!”

“You’re so weird,” you laugh.

The makeup artist groans. “Please don’t encourage him.”

Only Gojo would take that as encouragement. He rolls his eyes and receives a light swat across the shoulder for his troubles. You play around on your phone while you wait for her to be free, but soon grow bored. Instead, you watch her swipe powder across Gojo’s face and dab cream onto the apples of his cheeks.

“Stop staring,” he says.

“How do you know I’m staring? Your eyes are closed.”

“I can feel it.”

“Well, you’re wrong.”

“You’re such a bad liar,” he says, and you know he’s just messing around at this point because you’re an incredible liar. It’s your best quality.

Falling into banter with Gojo is as easy as breathing. It’s no trouble at all to replicate it on the show. From the shadow, your manager gives you a double thumbs up. Dork.

Sometimes it’s hard to remember that you’re doing this to drum up popularity for your tour. You’re not the only one having trouble. Gojo pulls you aside after filming wraps up to give you his personal number on the phone he’s not supposed to have.

At night, you get an alert that you’ve received something from Gojo. It’s not a message. It’s a notification that you can save three tickets to your digital wallet.

A speech bubble pops up.

Come to my concert, he says. I got you VIP seats.

Gojo’s impressed you, but you still don’t know about the rest of his band. You’re not sure you want to watch pretty men lip sync and grind on the stage for two hours, but when you tell Shoko, she offers to bring Utahime. That’s conveniently three, so you might as well.

VIP seats don’t include backstage, so you’re surprised when security comes to retrieve you. There’s no backstage pass for this concert, actually, confusing you all the more.

Shoko flaps her hand dismissively at you, encouraging you on. By her side, Utahime is trying to feed her snacks. Satisfied that they’re comfortable, you follow the guard to Gojo’s dressing room. He leaves you there without a word.

After five minutes of waiting for something to happen, you knock. Instantly, Gojo’s voice invites you in.

He’s sitting in front of the dresser, fiddling with his earrings. You’ve noticed seven piercings in total - three on his right lobe, two on his left, and one conch on either side. Before you knew him, you would’ve been surprised an idol would be allowed to get so many. Now you know he bends the rules whenever he’s able.

“Pass me that?” You hand him the disinfectant. “Thanks. I didn’t think you were coming.”

“Then why’d you send me tickets?”

“Thought my roguish good looks and natural charm would win you over,” he says with a smile that says he’s only half joking.

“You’re insufferable,” you say as you bat his hands away from his ear. “Let me do that.”

His hair is soft as cygnet down as you brush it behind his ear. There’s something innocent about his expression like this, watching him from above. His eyes are closed, breaths soft and even as he waits for you.

The silver pools in your hand as you thread it through his ear, a waterfall released when it hooks on. He wears a lot of silver, you’ve noticed. His stylists favor colors that should wash him out but only make him look more angelic. Pale blue silk trims his form, encrusted with embellishments to make him look prince-like. There are sparkles in the inner corner of his eye, soft blush on his cheekbones to make him look sweet.

He’s anything but when his eyelids flutter open and he notices you watching. A smile almost cruel tugs at his lips. His hand reaches for you as if-

There’s a knock on his door for the last curtain call.

“That’s me.” He stands up, brushing his lap off without a trace of anything other than professionalism. He’ll leave you wondering what he was going to do. It’s terrible how good he is at this, though you suppose it’s his job to leave people wanting more. “Keep an eye out for me on stage, will you?”

It’s hard not to. Your eyes are polarized to him. Even when something else catches your attention, like fireworks or confetti, he pulls it back. Greedy, that one.

You’re not the only one. The crowd lives for him. There’s something electric about him on stage. He naturally draws attention with that height and attitude and face, but what happens when he’s performing is inexplicable. You’d call it a religious experience if you believed in a god.

Fate has never factored into your life, but now you’re starting to consider worship. Gojo performs like he was born to be an idol.

Keep an eye out for me, he says, as if you’d have any trouble. You’ll dream about him tonight. The way his mouth fits so sensuously over the words of a love song snags your thoughts like a fishhook. Sick desires run through your blood, each more depraved than the last.

You want to watch him shed his beautiful silk skin for you, become nothing more than man again. You must retract your prior confession. There’s no longing for the altar in you, only a love of sacrilege.

Gojo asks for coffee easily, as if you’re two normal people and not celebrities with a lot to lose if you were caught together. You can’t let him outdo you, so you agree. These are the reasons why your manager curses your recklessness. Shoko calls it bravery, when she’s feeling sweet on you.

The second message comes a second later.

Gojo Satoru 11:25 I only said it to see if you’d agree Here’s my address lol can’t believe you said yes Attachment

You think he gives his address out too freely for a man worth 30 million. The feeling only intensifies as you get out of your car and thank your driver. His gates are pearly instead of the standard matte black, a stark declaration of wealth. He’s practically asking for an incident to happen.

Security buzzes you in. Someone in a white dress - an honest to god maid - leads you to a mini kitchen where Gojo’s waiting. His hair is wet and dripping down his back where his powder blue shirt is darkened to a navy. You thought you had gotten used to overblown displays of money after your first three years in the music industry. Clearly, you were mistaken.

He looks up as you enter, reading a trashy tabloid as he stirs whipped cream into a tall glass of something that looks more like a sugary heart attack than coffee.

You’ve never seen his bare face, you realize. Even that moment when you had walked in on him and the makeup artist, he had been nearly done. He looks practically the same without makeup. People with genetic good looks like him only need to enhance their appearance the tiniest amount.

What really strikes you is how earnest he looks, soft and open-hearted, though that might be because you’ve caught him in his home. This is what you wanted - him without his skin on, naked and without pretense. He’s wearing cotton pajamas and white slippers.

“I thought you’d come later,” he says. “Sorry I got started without you. I was feeling something sweet.”

“I’m early, though?”

“I’m always late,” he says with a one shouldered shrug. “Thought you might be too. Guess you’re not my perfect girl after all, huh?”

You shove his arm off the armrest of his chair to perch on it, ignoring the perfectly good chair across from him. This is better, anyway, easier to talk to him. “Don’t be absurd. I’m everyone’s dream girl.”

Gojo chuckles. “I like confident women.”

There’s been a question on your mind for a while. You knew his group was popular, but all this? Maybe you should’ve become an idol after all.

“Where’s the rest of your band? I thought idols shared rooms.”

“Some do,” he says. “Not so much when you make it big. But this is my family home, so none of that applies.”

Gojo Satoru of the Gojo conglomerate. How had you forgotten? It shouldn’t be so easy to ignore something like that.

Gojo shifts the conversation easily, but you notice. So he doesn’t like the connection, then. “How was the concert?”

“Don’t fish for compliments,” you say, stealing a sip of his drink before it reaches his mouth. It’s too sweet for anyone’s standards. You spit it back into the cup. He takes it from you, eyes it consideringly, and takes a sip anyways.

Your mouth drops. “You’re so gross.”

“Only for you, baby,” he moans, humor like a teenage boy. “Call me names again.”

You roll your eyes at him.

“It’s fine, it’s just saliva. Now tell me the truth. You couldn’t take your eyes off me, could you?”

They’d probably sooner pop out of your head and roll away than leave the sight of him, but you can’t tell him that after all you’ve said about idols. Instead, you push off your seat to go rummage through his cabinets. He has a fully stocked coffee cart in this room and the very latest espresso machine, all to choose his diabetic monstrosity instead.

“You don’t need to respond,” he says cheerfully. “Your silence tells me everything I need to know.”

“Do you think you know me that well?” You shoot back. His fridge is so big you think you could fit into it. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’ve registered that he’s moved from his seat as well, and now stands just behind you.

“Of course I know you,” he says. “I understood you the moment we met.”

“You’re very confident,” you note.

You have a weakness for confident men.

“So you liked my concert. Can I come to yours?”

You imagine Gojo in a mosh pit for a second. It sends you into a laughing fit while he stands there, bemused. You can’t shake the incongruous picture of him, with his face like a carefully crafted porcelain doll, getting rowdy and wild with your fans. Ridiculous. Never in a million years.

“We don’t have VIP seats,” you warn him.

“So?”

“So it can get dangerous.”

“Aw, you do care about me.”

“I care about the fat lawsuit your company’s going to send me when their moneymaker breaks his leg at my concert. It’s not happening.”

“You scared?”

“No, but maybe you should be.”

“Come on,” he says. When had he gotten so close? It’s distracting. “I know you’ll take care of me.”

Gojo had invited you to his concert. It’s only right to return the favor. An idea starts forming in your head, though you’re not sure it’s a good one. You tell him anyway.

Usually when soundcheck is over, you have a little bit of downtime to relax backstage. You’re expecting someone tonight, however.

A rough knock on the door announces Satoru Gojo, spoken in your security guard’s rough voice. Well, he really introduces him as pretty boy idol, but you can guess who it is.

He looks discomfited, a rare occurrence, as he closes the door behind him.

“What’s with you?”

“You’ve got groupies,” he says, looking rattled.

You fight a smile.

“Don’t laugh,” he pouts. “They’re insane. One of them tried to chase me here.”

You can’t help yourself. A giggle bursts out of you. When he tries to leave, you pin his hand to the handle and coo reassurances at him so he won’t.

When you head out the door, he surprises you by grabbing your hand. It’s as nonchalant as anything he does, so you rise to the challenge he sets by refusing to react to it. You only separate once you reach the stairs; him to the spot you’ve made for him behind the barricade, you to the stage.

This is one of your favorite venues, moody and atmospheric. The lights are dimmed to your preferred setting, but your eyes adjust quickly. Your crowd is restless tonight, shifting on their feet as whispers follow raucous laughter through the crowd. Noise on noise, the way you like it.

The wood of the floor is a little sticky beneath your boots as you walk. That’s history gumming the soles of your shoes, generations of artists before you. You’re starting to feel it now, the electric thrum of pure joy in your blood.

Shoko is strumming light tunes on her guitar to warm up, her eyes closed. You hope she doesn’t take it too hard that Utahime couldn’t make it tonight, though you know if she’s upset, she’ll channel into her music.

The crowd settles as the hour draws closer. Shoko’s fingers are liquid now, running through chords effortlessly. You wrap the cord of the microphone around your hands, letting the tension build mindlessly. A stage is like home to you. The crowd plays in the palm of your hand, energy ebbing and flowing as you will it.

It starts with a guitar solo from Shoko. By then, the crowd is already burning with excitement. The first burst of sound from the speakers has them roaring, cheering even though there’s no lyrics to it. The smallest smile touches her lips as she plays to the crowd, showing off exactly why she’s lead guitar for the greatest band in the world right now.

You step in on her heels, your voice rising over the music. Back before you knew how this felt, you almost quit singing, annoyed by the sound you were forced into. This is more your tempo. The almost guttural curl to the ends of your words, the rasp of your hoarse voice - this is beautiful to you.

The crowd is yours. Anything that goes on is within your jurisdiction, higher than any judge or god. You notice everything in your realm.

People are starting to move now, their bodies falling victim to the music. Their mouthes form the vowels and consonants of the lyrics as their bodies shudder and jerk, chained to the rhythm. Bodies ricochet off each other, love taps of respect for your aggressive voice, soaring above it all.

In the corner, there’s a violent eye of a storm. You think it’s a particularly enthusiastic dancer - perhaps a circle is about to form - before you realize what’s actually going on.

A fight is breaking out. You catch a glimpse of snow white hair, realize it’s near the barricade, and your stomach drops.

It’s Gojo and another man, ignoring the security guard trying to separate them. You try to stay professional and play through it, but then you see red.

Gojo’s hand flies to his face, his nose dripping with crimson. He doesn’t look any more injured than that, but you’re angry enough to step in now. Shoko stops as soon as you hold your hand out, the music veering into a screeching crash.

“You, in the black tee!” You realize you should’ve been more specific when what looks like the entire crowd looks down at their equally black shirts. “No, the one that just punched Gojo Satoru. Yeah, you, asshole! No fighting at my gigs! Especially not my guests!”

He had the audacity to yell back. “I was just showing him a warm welcome!”

You climb off the stage. Gojo didn’t show any fear while he got hit, but there’s concern in his eyes now as you drop to the ground by him.

“Wait,” he says, “wait, wait. I don’t think you should-“

“Shut the fuck up,” you snap, pushing him behind you until his back hits the stage. “Let me handle this.”

You get in the man’s face. His eyes are bloodshot - drunk, probably. “Who do you think you are, starting shit at my shows?”

“You’ve sold out,” he slurs. Definitely drunk. “He doesn’t belong here.”

“You don’t get to tell me who can or can’t come to my goddamn show,” you snarl, vicious and low. “Get out.”

“You can’t-“

“Get out before I make them drag you out.”

When he doesn’t move, you motion security over. “Does anyone else have any complaints?”

The crowd is eerily silent for something that was moving like a beast with one mouth before, singing in unison. You clamber back on stage, turning around to grab Gojo’s hand.

“What?” He says.

“Up. Now.” Your tone brooks no argument. You haul him up with you. He stands awkwardly as you drag him towards your mic stand, your arm slung around his shoulder. There’s still blood on his face.

“Gojo Satoru is a very dear friend of mine,” you announce into the mic. You see the confused looks in the crowd. Even Shoko seems wary. This wasn’t on the schedule. “If you're a real rock fan, you'd know that music is more than genre. I get it! I didn’t think idols were anything more than corporate shills either-“

“Harsh,” he whispers under his breath, unable to control himself even now.

“But he proved me wrong. He’s a real performer, just like I am, and I expect the same respect for him that you give to me.”

This is your crowd. They listen. Someone whistles.

You sit Gojo down, right by your feet. He gives you a bemused smile as the concert starts again, you moving around him like one of your props. He spends most of the concert lounging back, watching you through half lidded eyes.

It might’ve been enough excitement for one night, but you’ve always been the type to push your boundaries. When the idea springs into your head, you act on impulse, not giving yourself too much time to think about it as you pull Gojo to his feet.

You’re really manhandling him tonight, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s only a little startled as you pull the mic away from your face to get into his space.

You misjudged the distance. Your forehead knocks into his, just enough to sting, but not really hurt. “Do you want to try something?” Your voice is a whisper to not get picked up by the mic.

“Give it to me,” he says, and his smile is a bloody thing.

When you angle the mic towards him, you’re careful about not hitting him this time.

His voice works surprisingly well for rock. You weren’t sure he could pull off such a sound change, but he surprises you every time, matching you best for beat.

When he pulls back, your hand snakes into his hair and yanks him towards you and the mic again. He sings wholly at your command, being jerked around by your desires. It’s an inferno on stage, sweat pouring down both your faces. Behind you, the crowd is screaming so loudly it nearly deafens you.

Not a bad encore, you think as you towel off in your dressing room. Shoko left for a cool down with a bottle of ice water right before you, her post concert ritual, but the look she shot you says that you need to talk. You’ll deal with the consequences later.

For now, it’s enough to have Gojo shaking with leftover adrenaline against you as you sit him down in your chair. You press a bottle of ice against his face, watching him shiver. He’s still pretty with all the blood. Prettier, somehow, like some teenage wet dream of a vampire from a young adult novel.

You want to lick the sweat out of the hollow of his collar bones. Instead, you talk to him to rid yourself of your insane thoughts. It’s always a little crazy in your head after a good stage.

“Well?” You demand. “How was it?”

He tilts his head, considering. It makes you nervous. Now that you know how good of a performer he is, it almost feels like a test to receive his judgment.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he says, slowly.

“That good, huh?” You smile, trying to ignore the aching pressure behind your ribcage. You shouldn’t care so much what he thinks. Why does it matter?

“Yeah,” he says. “When are you free? I gotta plan our date.”

“Huh?”

“That was so sexy,” he says. “I was thinking about taking it slow, but I’m not going to last if I wait. I want to date you. I want to marry you.”

He’s starting to worry you. “Did you have a heat stroke or something? That’s really fast. Really, really fast, Gojo.”

“I’ve never been more clearheaded in my life,” he says. You only believe him when the medic clears him of any injuries, even the nose.

“We can talk about marriage later,” you say. “Why don’t you tell me about the date for now?”

Two weeks later, you’re Gojo’s plus one to his first movie premiere. It’s his debut as an actor, and it couldn’t be a better one. He escaped most of the negative pushback that usually comes with transitioning between those two industries, being naturally good at everything. Still, he had worked hard, and you’re proud of him.

It feels like you’re the only one, because the man himself doesn’t even care about his accomplishment. He’s too busy being delighted about hiding in plain sight. The cameras flash at you as you walk across the red carpet, arm in arm with Gojo. Your stylist had coordinated with his. It could almost pass for a couple’s outfits.

“You know,” he says conspiratorially. “When you defended me at the concert, I got hard.”

“I didn’t need to know that.”

“It was really hot.”

“You know there are people who can read lips, right?”

“I wish they would figure out what I’m saying.”

“Alright,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Let’s get inside.”

Dating Gojo is nothing like what you’d expected and everything like you’d expected. He keeps surprising you, doing wild things to get your attention that you never thought an idol would be willing to get their hands dirty with. He might be even more of a daredevil than you are, constantly pushing the boundaries of what you both can get away with before you’re found out.

In a way, it’s almost like you’re asking for it. You’re both straining at the bit to claim each other. It doesn’t come as a surprise when it does happen, then.

“Huh,” Gojo says over ramen. “We got papped.”

Utahime, understandably, freaks. “What? That’s not funny.”

“Oh yeah?” You say. “Are the pictures good at least?”

“You know we always look good. Could’ve gotten a better angle, but whatever.”

Utahime’s working herself into a minor tizzy in the corner. “Guys, I need you to be more serious about this. This is bad! This is so bad!”

Shoko looks up from her phone and chips on the couch, lying flat on her stomach. “Hate to agree, but she’s right. What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” you shrug. “What’s the point? There’s nothing we can do about it. They have the evidence.”

It had been a good run. Two blissful months of peace and quiet. Sneaking around had been fun, giving you that thrill you loved every time someone failed to recognize you and Gojo behind your stupid sunglasses. Still, it was bound to fail at some point. You’re honestly surprised it lasted for as long as it had. You can’t be mad. Two months is more than you could’ve asked for.

“Well,” Gojo says. “Wee-llll.”

“Spit it out,” Utahime gripes at him.

You take another bite of ramen, content to let them argue without you.

“There is something we could do,” Gojo hedges.

“You’re so annoying,” Shoko says.

“No one thinks you’re funny,” Utahime chimes in.

“Hey! She thinks I’m funny!” Gojo frowns. “Tell them you think I’m funny.”

“Sorry, babe. I never lie to my girls.”

“Whatever,” Gojo sighs. “Guess you don’t want to hear my genius idea then.”

“Don’t be a brat,” you tease, knuckling his head. He loves it when you roughhouse with him.

“What if…” The hesitation is real this time. You can tell the difference between when he’s faking it or not. He’s a good showman, but you know him. You place an encouraging hand on his knee.

“What if we went public first?” He says it all in one breath.

You take a moment, turning the idea over in your head. It would wrest back control of the narrative to your team. Even if you might get backlash, it wouldn’t be at someone else’s hands, beholden to their mercy. You like it.

“Sure,” you say.

Gojo gapes at you. ‘That easy?’ His thoughts are written all over his face.

“Why not?” You offer him one of your easy smiles. “I’ve always wanted to say you were mine, anyway.”

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk x reader

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writeforfandoms · 1 year

Text

Roardin

Find my CoD Masterlist

Title is the song “Roardin” by Marcela Bovio. Highly recommend listening to it before/during/after reading.

This idea started as musing on this headcanon from the amazing mind of @soapskneebrace and she gave me permission to run with it. And then, uh. This happened. I... have no idea how. This one got away from me. There was an entire subplot that I cut. Gaz wasn’t even supposed to be here BUT HE IS. Look idk I’m just gonna yeet this and run.

Soap x plus size f!reader

You’ve loved Johnny for a long time, but you’re convinced the feeling is not reciprocated. So you keep it to yourself and, well, at least he’s still your friend.

Warnings: Swearing, some very unhealthy mental state on reader’s part, they’re both idiots, idiots to lovers.

Word count: 7.5k

The first time you met Johnny was at a party. Your friend Emily had promised you it would be a lowkey thing.

So of course there were twenty people.

You ended up sitting on a chair, watching Emily flirt with one of the others. You were trying not to be bitter, but it was hard when you felt so alone. You didn’t know anyone but Emily, and you weren’t great in big social situations like this. So you sat and watched people, holding a cup of beer that was slowly growing warm in the balmy night.

Someone dropped down into the chair next to you, and you blinked at him. He was handsome, dark hair kept short, blue eyes bright.

“Doin’ alright?” he asked, smile kind, gaze focused on you.

You were so startled you blinked at him, owlish. And then you nodded. “Yeah, just, uh.” You shrugged, ducking your head a little. “More people than I anticipated.”

He nodded, leaning back in his seat. “Aye,” he murmured. “Me too.”

"Who are you here with?" You glanced at him, cautiously optimistic. So far he was nice.

"Eric, the blonde over there." He nodded in the correct direction. "You?"

"Emily." You looked around for her.

And, as if summoned by her name, she appeared at your shoulder. "I don't think we've met," she said, flirty smile in place, holding out a hand to your conversation partner.

"John." He shook her hand and then looked at you. But you were too slow to respond, too startled - Emily had already moved in, smile bright as she started talking to him.

And you leaned back in your chair, feeling frumpy and boring in comparison. You weren't good at this sort of thing. You weren't the most personable person, you couldn't stop and talk with anyone. You didn't have the same kind of social battery that Emily did.

So you mentally wrote the night off as a loss and contented yourself with being on the outskirts of this conversation. Which was becoming more flirting by the moment.

Yeah. You were definitely sidelined, especially when you noticed Emily shifting closer to him, tossing her hair back behind her shoulder, eyes bright and confident.

Maybe you'd get lucky and she'd drop you off at home before she went home with him, or something.

After half an hour of listening to them flirt, you'd had enough. You stood, touching the back of Emily's shoulder with two fingers to get her to pay attention.

"I'm gonna get a ride home," you said, gaze flitting to John and then down to the floor. "It was nice to meet you."

If he responded, you didn't hear it, already heading for the door.

You wouldn't be missed.

You would have liked to talk to John a bit more before Emily stole him away, but you knew you didn't hold a candle to her. In so many ways.

You were used to playing second fiddle to her.

You honestly never expected to see John again. Not unless Emily nabbed him as more than just a bed partner for the night, but you weren't sure that would happen.

So when someone sat across from you at the coffee shop, you felt yourself stiffen and prepare to make an excuse to leave.

Until your gaze met brilliant blue again.

"Oh," you murmured, blinking at him. "Hi."

"Hi." His smile was warm but still soft, and a little bashful. "Hope ye don't mind, spotted you as I got m' drink."

"Not at all." You smiled, a little thrill zinging down your spine. He'd actually chosen to sit with you! "Just unexpected, that's all. How are you?"

"Oh, dandy. Enjoying my time off while it lasts." He winked, leaving you little doubt as to how he was enjoying. "You?"

You shrugged. "Wishing I knew more languages to cuss out this paper," you said, light and cheerful.

“School?” he asked, leaning a little closer.

“Mmhm.” You sighed at your laptop. “It’s annoying.”

He chuckled. “Anything I can help with?”

“That depends,” you said slowly, blinking at him. “Know anything about Paradise Lost?”

“Not really. Had to read a bit of it, but not much.” He looked sheepish now.

“Don’t worry about it.” You shut your laptop. “I’ll figure it out later. I’m an expert procrastinator at this point.”

He snorted and then grinned at you. “Oh, aye? Not one to get things done early?”

“I try, and then things happen, and then I end up doing them last minute.” It was your turn to look sheepish now, shoulders hunching a little.

He laughed, playing with his coffee. “Well, you get it all done.”

“I do.” You relaxed a little at the lack of judgment. “Are you studying?”

He shook his head a little. “Military.”

“Ah.” You blinked. It made sense, looking at him. “What do you think of it so far?”

He made a complicated expression. “I’m glad I joined,” he said, firm and sure. “There are… ups and downs. Like any job.” His lips twisted.

“Understandable,” you agreed, leaning back in your seat. “You’re on leave, then? How much longer do you have?”

“A few more days.” He shrugged, watching you from under his lashes.

“I hope you get to enjoy.” Your smile was small but genuine. Your phone buzzed on the table, and you looked down to check it, making a face. “Dammit. I’m sorry, I have to go, apparently my apartment is flooding?”

He blinked at you but nodded. “Good luck,” he said, watching you shove your laptop into your backpack.

You murmured your thanks to him and took off. Well. There went your mood. And also some good company.

You didn’t let yourself really register the disappointment, though, pushing past it and shoving it down to think about never.

Surely, that would be it. He only had a few days of leave left, he’d said so himself. There was no way you were going to see him again.

You saw him again.

Normally you didn’t really go out, preferring to stay in the quiet solace of your room. But your room was temporarily off limits while repairs happened from the flooding, and you were all off-kilter, so you decided to go out at the invitation of a classmate to a local pub.

Dinner, you said. And one drink. Your classmate (a really nice girl named Claire) agreed eagerly. (Which surprised you - you were too much of a wet blanket for people to get excited about going anywhere with you.)

The two of you sat at the pub and chatted. It was nice. It was easy. You had some musical tastes in common, which helped.

You both settled your bills and then she waved at someone. “A couple friends of mine are here, do you want to come meet them?” she asked, happy and eager.

You turned to look, and blinked when those same blue eyes met yours across the room. What were the odds? You recognized the blonde next to him - Eric. From the party.

What a small world.

“Sure,” you agreed shyly, ducking your head briefly. But you gamely followed Claire over to the table, introducing yourself and settling into your seat, shoulders hunched to try to take up less room.

For a little while, you just sat and listened to the others, content to fade into the background. But slowly, John nudged you into adding your opinion. It was odd, but in a nice way. You didn’t mind.

And when you finally checked your phone and realized the time, you made your excuses. You had to get up in the morning.

“Do you want me to drive you back?” Claire asked, a little concerned.

“Nah, it’s not that far to campus.” You smiled. “I’ll see you on Tuesday, yeah?”

“Of course!” She beamed at you.

To your surprise, though, John stood when you did. “I’ll walk you back,” he murmured. “And I’ve got a plane to catch in the morning.”

“Right.” You grabbed your things and waved once more to the table before you headed out, John a few respectful steps behind you. The air was chilly as you stepped out of the pub, and you paused a moment to adjust. “I’m okay to walk back on my own if you’d rather just grab a ride,” you offered, looking at John.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I offered,” he pointed out. “How’s the, uh, Milton thing coming?”

“Oh, I’m still procrastinating,” you admitted, ducking your head as you started walking. “My current plan is to bang it out on Saturday.”

He tipped his head back to laugh, beautiful and bright. “Aye, that’s a plan,” he agreed, fingers just touching your elbow as you crossed a street.

You took a deep breath, nerves fluttering in your stomach. “You know… If you ever got bored… you could text me sometime.” The offer came out smaller than you intended, and you winced at yourself. No wonder nobody bothered with you.

“Sure,” he agreed, so quickly you lifted your head to blink at him. He was already pulling out his phone. “What’s your number?”

You rattled it off, and moments later your phone buzzed in your pocket with a new text.

“Ah’m not always the best at texting,” he said, a hint of nerves entering his voice. “But, uh.”

“It’s fine,” you assured him. “Like I said, if you’re bored or want to chat or whatever. I get it.”

His smile relaxed at that and he nodded.

“Well, this is me.” You stopped outside the residential area, turning to look at him. “Thanks for walking me back.”

“My pleasure.” He shifted a little closer to you, eyes bright.

For a moment, you two simply stood and looked at each other, the air thick between the two of you. Then a door slammed and loud laughter echoed from an open window.

“Have a good flight, and stay safe, okay?” You smiled at him, one hand reaching out and then retracting.

But he held out his arms and lifted one eyebrow in silent question. You smiled and stepped into him, hugging him. And oh, he was warm and he was a good hugger.

You stepped back before things edged into longer than socially acceptable, and his hands slid from your back.

“I’ll text you,” he promised. “Good luck with your paper.”

You nodded and let him go, waving briefly before you turned to head to your building.

Honestly, you half-expected him to fall through. It was easy to not expect much of people, a well-developed defense mechanism.

It was hard to be disappointed when you didn’t expect anything.

So when he texted you the next day to say he was back on base, you were pleasantly surprised.

And he didn’t stop texting, either. Sometimes he wouldn’t for days or weeks, but he always got back to you when he could, hours long conversations making up for the necessary silences.

You didn’t see him in person though for months. When he finally had leave again, he was busy - going out with friends, hiking, playing football.

You even managed to see him a few times. Out at a bar one night, Emily once again dragging you out. He talked you into going hiking with him and a few of his buddies. (That one you regretted a little, feeling self-conscious around them.)

But you began to notice more about him.

John had a lot of friends, and he seemed to be pretty casual with most of them. Friendly bumps or hugs were normal for him. Despite how often he went out, he never arrived to events with a date, always on his own.

But he often left with someone on his arm. Often a girl - one time a guy. (Thinking very briefly about that had left you warm and flustered for the rest of the night.) Emily went home with him a second time, and she gushed to you about him the next day.

But there was no expectation of more. Just sex.

You had no idea how they did it, but, more power to them. As long as everybody was happy with that arrangement, you weren’t going to rain on their parade.

Months turned into years, and you watched as some of his friends drifted away due to time and distance and whatever else. Most of your friends were transitory, in and out of your life. You watched as he changed his hair, growing out a single stripe for a mohawk. You watched as his confidence settled into something proven without being boastful. You watched as he hid demons and nightmares behind smiles, as his job took him around the globe. (Which you only knew because he’d text you sometimes about the views or the weather. Never anything identifying, but you hoarded those dregs of information anyway.)

You always sent him a birthday text, even if he didn’t respond to it for days. He often missed yours, which you brushed off. But he didn’t miss holidays, either showing up a few days beforehand (he always spent the actual day with his family) or sending you gifts.

Your friendship had settled into something deeper, something that lasted. Something that withstood the time apart and the silences and the rigors of his job.

You, however, stubbornly ignored that your feelings ran deeper. That you cared for him, too much. More than you should. More than he cared for you, certainly. But you held your silence and ignored the longing and did your best to simply be there and be the best friend you could be.

Which, really, was easy in some ways. The two of you just got on, had from the very start. Arguments were rare between the two of you, and you were always able to pick right back up where you left off around his absences.

It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable pattern, but it was a pattern, one you were content to hold. It was enough to be in his orbit, to circle around him. It was enough.

So seeing a text from him made you smile, even in the slurry slushy rain-sleet of December.

Gonna be home for three weeks. You got time?

You read the message twice. Three weeks was longer than normal, even with the holidays around the corner. Maybe he needed some extra time to recover from something? But you could find out, you didn’t need to push now.

For you? Always.

Well. That had probably been too honest. But it had been months since you’d seen him, and he was often silent on top secret missions. So, yeah, too honest but undeniable.

Should be back in two days. See you soon.

You hummed and put it out of your mind for now.

But if you ended up cleaning your apartment… well. That was just in case, really. And it needed to be done. So there.

(Even in the privacy of your own mind, you weren’t fooling anybody.)

Two days later, your phone started buzzing with an incoming call, and you picked up with a grin.

“Not dead yet?” you teased gently in what had become nearly a routine for the two of you.

He chuckled, the sound soothing the ball of anxiety that sat in your chest every time he went silent. “Not yet,” he agreed. “How are ye, sweets?”

“Oh, the usual.” You smiled a little. “You?”

“Mandatory leave,” he answered on a sigh. “Got some company, though. One o’ my mates is here for a week ‘fore going home to his family.”

“Sounds like fun,” you agreed, glancing at your calendar. “Work is still the same for me - any time after 5:30 or so I’m open, or weekends.”

“No plans?” Johnny asked as gently as he could.

You huffed. “No. No plans.”

The words sat between you, heavy and thick, for three heartbeats. Then Johnny clicked his tongue.

“Won’t do,” he said with cheer that felt a little forced to you. “I’ll fix ye right up!”

You laughed softly. “Just whatever you have time for,” you assured him. “I’m fine.”

“Ye’re home alone with reruns on doin’ nothin’ exciting,” Johnny predicted, and damn it all, he knew you too well.

“That’s neither here nor there.” Your gaze skittered down to the floor.

“Then come out with Gaz and I. Tomorrow. We can meet at our pub.”

Your lips twitched entirely against your will. “What time?”

“After work.”

You huffed a little laugh. “Alright,” you agreed. “I’ll meet you there tomorrow.”

“Excellent.” The grin was clear in his voice. “See ye soon, sweets.”

“See you soon,” you agreed, reluctant to hang up but knowing you had to go. Well. More like you had to let him go. But you made yourself hang up.

Now you just had to get through work and you’d be able to see arguably your favorite person on the planet. And one of his friends. Who also worked with him.

No big deal.

You still showed up at the pub after work, looking around for Johnny.

All you saw was a bright grin and that mohawk before arms grabbed you in a tight hug, absolutely uncaring of the rest of the pub. You squeaked as Johnny picked you up for a quick twirl, something you protested feebly. You were not some teeny dainty thing, you didn’t want him hurting himself.

“There’s my sweets!” he crowed, finally setting you down. “Come meet Gaz.” Keeping hold of your hand, he led you over to a table in the back, where a dark-skinned man was already sitting waiting. “Gaz, this is my sweets.”

You rolled your eyes and gave Gaz your actual name, holding out your hand for him to shake. “It’s wonderful to meet you.”

“You too.” He smiled at you, easy and warm. “This idiot doesn’t shut up about you.”

“Oh really?” You turned to Johnny with a teasing smile.

Johnny shrugged, shameless. “Hard not to when ye send me packages,” he said, ushering you into a seat and finally releasing your hand. “I’ll grab this round, aye?” And he was gone before you could protest.

You huffed a little laugh, shaking your head. “I hope he actually shares and doesn’t just dangle the packages in front of you,” you said, grinning.

“Sometimes,” Gaz said with an easy shrug. “Sometimes he just hoards things.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Sounds like him,” you agreed, fondness bleeding into your tone, even as you turned a little to look for him. He was easy to spot, leaning up against the bar, probably flirting with the admittedly very pretty bartender (who looked mostly amused). The sight didn’t even hurt (much) - you were just happy to see him.

“How long have you known him?” Gaz sounded curious, and you snapped your gaze back to him.

“Oh, years now.” You smiled. “Met him when I was in college and got dragged out to a party.”

He chuckled. “Haven’t gotten rid of him since?” he teased, though the way he looked at you was sharp, assessing.

“Why in the world would I do that?” You shook your head, amused. “He’s a good friend. One of the best.”

Gaz nodded slowly but didn’t have a chance to say more before Johnny was back, putting down drinks in front of you.

“Here ye are,” he said with a grin and a dramatic wave of his hand. “Take yer pick, sweets.”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Gaz grumbled good-naturedly, making you laugh even as you picked your drink.

“Something like that,” you agreed, grinning. “So, what was your favorite thing this time?” You took a sip of your drink, watching Johnny go off about some cafe he’d found on assignment in some other country, and how much it had annoyed someone he called “LT” when he stopped there for every meal one day.

From there, the rest of the night was easy. You didn’t drink much, aware you still had to work the next day, but you relaxed. Gaz was funny and nice and interesting, much like Johnny. You ended up giving him your number at the end of the night and promising to send him packages too, so Johnny wouldn’t be the only one having fun.

Johnny’s overly dramatic clasping of his heart sent you into peals of laughter again.

And when you needed to go, both men stood to see you out, offering to walk you home, which you gently turned down.

“You gonna come tomorrow?” Johnny asked hopefully. “Arranging a football match.”

“If you want me there, I’ll be there,” you agreed. “Just text me where and when.”

“Copy that.” He smiled, warm and beautiful under the street lights, everything you wanted and couldn’t have.

“See you tomorrow, Johnny.” But you couldn’t resist darting in for one more hug, just one. Just to get a whiff of him to take home with you. He barely had time to respond before you were pulling back, bright smile in place as you took off for home.

You couldn’t let yourself linger or you’d do something damn foolish.

To your surprise, Gaz checked in to ask if you got home safe. He really was sweet. You reassured both him and Johnny that all was well before you went to bed.

You had plenty of time to get to the football game after work, since most of the players also had to work. You’d brought an extra sweater, in case you stayed out later than you meant to and got cold, and found a place to sit and wait.

“Sweets!” Johnny jogged up to you, beaming, Gaz not far behind. “Been waitin’ long?”

“Just a few minutes.” You smiled up at him. “Did you two keep out of mischief today?”

“Sweets, I am hurt! Destroyed! Me, mischief?” Johnny pressed a hand to his chest, staggering back two steps with an exaggerated look of hurt.

“She knows you too well,” Gaz drawled, and ducked the swat aimed at his head.

“I take that as a no,” you said, laughing, watching the two tussle. “Save some of that energy for the match, I need some excitement today.”

“Bad day?” Johnny paused, one arm still wrapped loosely around Gaz’s neck, focus shifting to you so fast you were surprised he didn’t hurt himself.

“Just long.” Your smile felt brittle, small, and you tried to force it to be better. To be a better shield. “It’s fine, I’ve been looking forward to watching all day.”

“You don’t play?” Gaz asked, and you could have hugged him for keeping Johnny from fussing.

“Oh, no. I’ll kick a ball around, but I can’t keep up with an actual game.” You shrugged easily, gaze falling to the grass. “I’m just here for moral support when Johnny loses.”

Johnny puffed up, successfully distracted. “That was once! One time!”

Other people started showing up, and Johnny was quick to introduce Gaz around. You stayed where you were, waving to some people you knew, content to be on the edges of things.

And of course Emily was there, with a few other women, all standing in a group chatting on the edges of the unofficial field. You hunched into yourself, gaze skittering away from her.

You shouldn’t have come. But it was too late now.

You kept your gaze on Johnny instead. It wasn’t hard. He was so vibrant, laughing and cursing and jostling the others. It was never a hardship to watch him.

The game broke up eventually, and you weren’t sure which team had won. Or even if there had been real teams. But they all seemed happy, trooping together to the side with the women to talk about dinner plans.

You did not miss the way Emily curled a hand around Johnny’s arm, leaned in close to him, flashed a pretty smile at him. You swallowed and looked away when he nodded, barely having to dip his head to get closer to her.

You didn’t need to watch. You already knew where this was going.

Thanking all your lucky stars that you’re quiet and invisible when you want to be, you gathered up your things. It was time to go.

“Leaving already?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at Gaz’s question, hand flying to your chest. “I didn’t hear you come up,” you said, a weak defense for the way your heart thundered in your chest.

“Sorry. Habit.” His lips twisted as he gave you a quick once-over. “Seriously, though, you out? They’re talking about getting food.”

“Some of them are.” You smiled up at him, holding your extra sweater tight to your stomach. “It’s okay, I’ve got food at home.”

He looked over at the group, his brow furrowing a little. You didn’t need to, but you followed his gaze anyway to see Emily and Johnny stepping away from the group.

Just as you knew would happen.

Gaz’s jaw clenched and then he looked back at you with something far too close to pity in his eyes. “Come have dinner with me. My treat, yeah? We can have a nice quiet time of it, if you like.”

You opened your mouth to refuse him… but nodded. He didn’t really know anyone else here, and Johnny had kind of abandoned him too. “Yeah. Okay. I know a nice place, if you like Italian?”

“Sounds good to me.” He held out his arm in a gallant move, which at least got you to smile.

The two of you were quiet as you walked, you steering, him simply keeping pace.

“So,” he finally started, quiet, gentle, “how long have you been in love with that idiot, then?”

You debated lying to him. He couldn’t know that for certain. He was taking a shot in the dark, testing his accuracy. But you knew as soon as you glanced at those brown eyes that there would be no lying. No getting out of this. So you deflated, eyes closing briefly, even as you pulled your shoulders in, sinking into yourself. “I’m not sure. A few years?”

“You haven’t said anything?” He rested his free hand over yours, squeezing gently. Offering silent support.

“No.” You shook your head, almost desperately. “No, and I’m not going to.”

He stopped, pulling you to a stop with him. “Why not?” He looked genuinely bewildered.

You stared at him. “You’re joking, right?” You pulled your hand away, crossing your arms tight over your chest. “I mean, look at me. It’s obvious.”

He continued to look confused, gaze darting over you. “Explain it to me.”

You shook your head, taking a step back. “Maybe I should just go.”

“Whoa, hey, no.” He held up his hands, frowning a little. “I’m sorry, that was too much. We don’t have to talk about it.”

You breathed in slowly, letting the cold air burn down your throat and in your lungs, holding it for just long enough to begin to feel the sting before you let it out in a whoosh. But his pleading eyes got to you, and you sighed. “Alright, yeah. Okay.”

“Thank you.” He stepped closer again and offered his arm again, looking hopeful. You tucked your hand in his arm again and finished leading him to the restaurant. But the silence between you now was tense, stifled.

“This is it.” You nodded at the restaurant just up ahead, gaze immediately dropping to the ground again.

The two of you got seated at a table in the back, because the owner knew you, and sat for a few moments, your shoulders winding tighter with each passing heartbeat.

“Hey.” Gaz ducked his head a little, trying to catch your gaze. “I’m sorry. I won’t push. Alright?”

You nodded, chewing on your lip for a moment. “Okay.”

“Tell me about your job?” He tipped his head a little. “Or a hobby.”

“Well, I suppose that’s fair, since I know probably too much about your job.” Your lips twitched in almost humor but you drew in a deep breath to start talking.

It didn’t take long for the space between you to ease again, and dinner was more relaxed. The two of you carefully danced around the subject of Johnny and your feelings, but Gaz had plenty of amusing work stories that he could share with you. (And some pictures. Your favorite was the one of their captain slumped in his chair at his desk fast asleep. You wanted to drape a blanket over him and leave him cookies. When you told Gaz as much, Gaz looked surprised and then undeniably fond.)

Gaz paid, ignoring your arguments, and then offered to walk you home.

“I hope he at least left you a key.” It was the first time you’d directly brought up Johnny since before you’d arrived at the restaurant.

“Yeah, I’m set.” Gaz shook his head a little. “Don’t worry about me.”

You huffed. “You don’t know me well, so I’ll give you a pass on that this time,” you grumbled. “I am physically incapable of not worrying about my friends.”

He ducked his head, smiling, and then shook his head. “You must worry a lot, then.”

“Fair bit, yeah.” You shrugged. “It’s okay.”

“I know I said I’d leave this alone…”

Your heart dropped. Well, you’d known that was too good to last. “What do you want to know?”

“How often has he done that?”

“What, go home with someone?” You shrugged. “It’s not like I’ve kept track.”

“How often does he do it when you’re out with him?” Gaz looked down at you, concerned.

“Not all the time. And he knows Emily, they’ve, um, hooked up before.” You looked away, shrugging, fighting down your discomfort.

Gaz blew out a breath, muttering something you couldn’t understand. “If you ever want to talk,” he offered slowly, carefully, “I’m here. Yeah?”

You stopped, then, frowning at him. “Why?”

“Because you’re sweet, and you deserve to have someone support you.” Gaz shrugged. “Since that idiot is too blind to see what’s right in front of him, I’ll do what I can.”

You held his gaze, frowning just a little, looking for any signs of teasing or deceit. But you found none. So you nodded slowly. “Okay. Thank you.”

He just nodded, smiling a little, and walked you the rest of the way to your apartment building in silence. “Have a good night.”

“You too.” You took one last look at him and then went inside.

Life would be so much less complicated if you could just… fall out of love with Johnny. You’d probably even be happier for it.

But you couldn’t. It was out of your hands - your heart had decided and didn’t seem to be budging any time soon.

With a low groan, you gave up and flopped face-first into bed. Maybe you’d manage to smother yourself. Then you wouldn’t have to deal with all of this.

Johnny texted you over the next couple days, but didn’t invite you anywhere. You knew one day he dragged Gaz off on a full day hiking adventure - you advised Gaz to bring chemical heat packs, because Johnny always forgot.

But this was a good thing. A little space to get your head on straight again, to shove that longing back in its box where it belonged. Where you could absolutely bury it.

Saturday you didn’t get an invitation. You just got knocking on your door, too bright and early. You stumbled over to the door, bleary-eyed, and yanked the door open to yell at whatever fool dared disturb you this early.

Only to be met head-on with Johnny’s puppy dog pout.

You glowered for a solid four seconds before you sighed and left the door open, going to the kitchen instead. You needed caffeine.

“I brought you some,” Johnny bribed, following you in. “Here.” He held out a to-go cup. You could tell from the smell it was just the way you liked.

“What do you want, Johnny?” You took your cup, curling around it, not quite awake enough to be embarrassed about your state of dress.

“It’s Gaz’s last day here,” he said, looking hopeful. “Was hopin’ you’d spend it with us.”

“You have plans?” you asked on a sigh. You already knew you’d say yes.

“Nah, figured we’d figure it out as we went.”

“Fine. Let me get dressed.” You took your cup with you into your room, shutting the door pointedly.

This was going to be an absolute disaster, you could tell. But you were going to see it through anyway. Because you were a damned fool.

Johnny was quick to grin when you rejoined him, pulling you along in his orbit as he led. His mood was contagious, and always had been. Before long, you were no longer grumpy, smiling along and letting the other two lead.

The day really wasn't a total disaster. Actually you had a lot of fun. You went on an easy hike, tried a new place for lunch, explored an art museum, and had finally stopped back at your pub for dinner and a few drinks.

Gaz excused himself for a minute and Johnny leaned into your space, comfortable and easy.

"Y'know, he might fancy you," he murmured with a conspiratorial wink. "If ye wanted to…" He wiggled his eyebrows, playful and suggestive.

But you just stared at him, blank at first, but with growing pain. "He doesn't fancy me."

Johnny snorted. "Think I know him a bit better’n you do, sweets."

You shook your head, disbelieving. He could not possibly be this blind. "He doesn't fancy me, Johnny. I know. We had a conversation."

"You–what? When?" He leaned forward, eyes bright, clearly expecting gossip.

You scoffed a laugh, looking up at the ceiling. "After the football game, when you left with Emily."

He looked away briefly, jaw clenching. "Oh."

"Yes, oh." You shook your head, looking at your half-finished drink and knowing you weren't going to finish it. "He and I talked a lot that night. He's nice. He's a good friend. But we both know he and I won't go anywhere."

"Oh? Ye ken, do ye?" He leaned in, a challenge in his eyes. "How do ye ken?"

"Because I love you, you absolute dafty."

The words escaped entirely without permission, and your eyes went wide. The world froze. You couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. You just stared at Johnny as his eyes went wide too, uncomprehending.

You didn't wait for reality to set in. You fled. Someone may have called after you, but you could barely hear through the rushing in your ears, your heart pounding so loud against your ribs that it hurt.

You didn't stop until you were back in your flat, shaky hands locking the door. Which was about when reality set in. You'd told him. You'd told him. And there was no way to laugh it off as a joke now, no way to take it back or stuff it back down.

Somehow, you ended up in the shower, pressed against the wall, gasping breaths humid and heaving.

You weren't sure you'd ever recover from this.

But you forced yourself to move. Because what else was there to do, now? You couldn't go back. You couldn't take it back.

You had to move.

In this case, that meant finishing your shower. Cleaning up your clothes. Putting on your baggiest sweatshirt, the one that made you feel okay because it was simultaneously like being hugged and being hidden, and curling up on the couch. And turning your phone on silent so you could ignore it.

That wouldn't work forever, and you knew it. But it would work for now. You just needed it to work for now.

Sunday was a blur. You barely remembered what you did. You had no idea what you ate, if you even ate. When you did dare to check your phone, you had a dozen missed calls and even more texts.

You ignored the ones from Johnny for now. Just the thought threatened to send you back into a panic spiral.

But Gaz should be safe.

Soap told me. That was definitely a way to do it.

Let us know you're home safe, yeah?

I get it if you don't want to talk. You don't have to.

Flying out today. Text me when you can.

Let one of us know you're safe or he might break down your door.

Please.

You breathed slowly, reading through them again. Nothing about how Johnny felt, how he'd reacted.

You weren't sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

I'm fine. I'm home. I hope you had a safe flight. Sorry I didn't see you off.

You hit send before you could talk yourself out of it, and promptly hid again.

One more day and Johnny would be going to visit his family for the holidays.

You left a full half hour earlier than normal to go to work, anxious and keyed up and unable to sleep.

But you couldn't break your habits, not entirely. You scrolled past all the texts Johnny had left you, too anxious to read most of them, and sent him a quick text.

Have a safe trip, John.

You put your phone away again before the temptation to read through his texts got the better of you at work.

But you couldn't hold off once you got back home.

Most of his texts were check ins, requests to call him or text him, let him know you were okay. A few were apologies.

But one…

Sweets please call me, please. We can talk this out. I'm a damn fool but I swear I'll make it up to you.

And that? Well, that could really go either way, couldn't it?

You buried your face in your pillow and cried. Just a little. For lost things and broken things. For things you couldn't have.

Two more days of work and then you had the rest of the year off. You could make it two more days without breaking down.

Have you talked to Soap yet? Gaz asked via text the next day.

Not yet. You were a little ashamed to admit it. But only a little.

Call him. We had a long talk last night. It will be okay.

You stuffed your phone away again before your hands could start shaking any worse, anxiety and insecurity surging.

You dragged yourself home from work Wednesday and froze.

Johnny was standing outside your flat, shoulders hunched, hair wild like he'd been pulling on it. He spotted you and froze, expression torn between hope and fear.

"Johnny?" You approached slowly, keys in hand. "You're… here?"

"Aye." He scratched the side of his head, shifting his weight. "Talked to my ma. And Gaz. Ma told me to, uh. Fix this."

"Fix?" Your heart went cold at the thought, and you shook your head. "It's hardly your fault, Johnny, you don't have to–"

"Please." He put one hand over yours, light as a feather. Just enough to make you realize your hands were shaking even as you tried to unlock the door.

You'd always been terrible at telling him no. So you swallowed and nodded, pushing open the door for the both of you.

"Can I get you anything?" You glanced at him as you put your things down, kicking off your shoes.

He shook his head, watching as you buzzed around for a minute, putting things away and getting water for the both of you anyway. You couldn't bear the look in his eyes, the quiet grief there.

So you tried to head it off.

"Really, Johnny, you don't have to fix anything. I'm… I'll be okay."

"Were you ever going to tell me?" He watched you now, gaze pinning you in place.

"Not if I could help it." You gulped. "It was… you didn't reciprocate, and I didn't want to ruin our friendship. I didn't want this exact thing to happen."

"What made you think I don't have feelings for you?" He spoke slowly and carefully.

"John." You shook your head. "I've seen the kind of woman you go home with, and they don't… look like me."

He winced. Actually winced. "That's not…" He trailed off, anguished eyes meeting yours, struggle clear on his face.

"It's okay." You even managed to smile. "I know I'm not exactly the standard of beauty, and I'm not anyone's first choice. I understand."

"But ye are!" He jumped to his feet, pacing in front of the couch. "Sweets, I never ask those people over ta mine, ye ken? They ask me."

You blinked. That was… surprising, granted. But it didn't change much. "Okay?"

He sighed, short and sharp, tugging at his mohawk again. "I did flirt with ye."

"What?" You blinked at him, absolutely stupefied.

"In the beginning. Tried flirting. Ye dinnae seem open to it, so ah stopped."

"You… with me?" You were still stuck on that, brain whirring, trying to go back through your memories of your early friendship with him.

"Aye, with ye." He looked sad for some reason you didn't understand.

"When?!" You stared at him, flabbergasted.

He huffed a little laugh. "Plenty." He stared at you, halted several steps away. "Ye didn't ken?"

"I had no idea." You slumped a little.

He snorted, a little wet, and scrubbed his hand through his hair. "Any idiot would be lucky to have ye."

"Any idiot…?" Hope curled around your heart, delicate but growing every moment.

Johnny crossed the room, dropping to his knees in front of you, hands bracketing your thighs. "I would be lucky," he amended, looking up at you earnestly.

"You don't mean that." Tears pricked in your eyes, and you blinked rapidly.

"I do." Slowly, carefully, one hand migrated to your knee. "I really do."

You gasped at the intensity of his gaze, trembling a little. "But I'm…" you trailed off, hands clenched tight in the hem of your shirt.

"Beautiful." He sat up on his knees, leaning in closer. "Warm." His other hand landed on your other knee. "Kind." Both hands squeezed gently. "One o' the sweetest people I ken."

"Johnny…" You stared at him, lips parted, hope and longing and disbelief all swirled up together in your chest.

"Please, sweets." He shifted closer to you, hands rubbing restlessly but never progressing past the tops of your knees. "Lemme show ye, prove to ye I mean it."

"Okay."

You weren't sure who moved first, you or him. But it ended the same: kissing him, one palm against his jaw, the other in his hair, while he pressed as close to you as he could get. You slowly spread your knees and he moaned softly, immediately shuffling into the space presented, still on his knees.

"So sorry, sweets." He kissed you again, one hand lifting to the back of your neck, holding you where he wanted you. "Ah'm an eejit."

"We both are," you whispered, thumb stroking over his cheek tenderly.

"Now, sweets, won't hear a word against ye." He pulled back, grinning when you tried to chase his lips. "Got it?"

"Fine, but please don't stop." You tightened your grip in his hair, trying to pull him back to you.

Another several minutes were lost to kissing that slowly calmed from desperate to just lovely, slower and exploratory and open-mouthed and messy.

"Come home wi' me," Johnny murmured in between placing sweet kisses along your jaw.

"What?" You felt a little fried, like this was the best kind of dream, or like you had short-circuited and needed to reboot.

"Promised Ma ah'd ask."

"She's okay with this?" You felt bashful suddenly, dropping your gaze to your knees.

Johnny laughed softly, nuzzling right at your pulse. "Threatened to kick me out, actually," he said, humor in his voice now. "If ah messed this up."

You hid behind one hand, hot and flustered and trying to hide just how pleased you were.

"Nah, none o' that,'' he clucked, pulling your hand away from your face. "Wanna see ye, sweets."

And how could you say no to those eyes? "I mean…. If you're sure she's okay with it…"

"More than okay," he reassured you, leaning up again to press his forehead to yours.

"Then… okay." Your eyes suddenly widened. "I'll have to pack, and I don't have gifts for your family!"

"Ach, donnae fuss," he grumbled, though he was grinning. Beaming, really. "You are a gift."

"That was awful." But you relaxed again, smiling.

"Mm. Might'a been." His grin turned predatory, short nails scratching lightly against the back of your neck to make you gasp. "Now, how 'bout I show ye what we've both been missing…? Show ye exactly how beautiful ye are."

Doubt flashed, a big blinking light in your brain. But there was nothing in his eyes but sincerity and desire, nothing harmful in the way he looked at you, not a hint of doubt in the way he kissed you.

So you breathed in slowly, wrestling down your inner demons, ignoring their cries and screeches. And you nodded.

"Yes, Johnny."

#johnny soap mactavish x reader #f!reader

635 notes · View notes

kennahjune · 5 months

Text

the moment mike accepted steve into the party

he didn’t get it. what was so good about steve harrington?

yeah, he was good looking and strong. but other than that? nothing. in mike’s eyes, he was still the asshole rando that dated his sister. and he didn’t plan on that changing.

until march of 1985.

mike had been held back after class for falling asleep. it wasn’t his fault. he couldn’t ever sleep unless someone else was with him. and there was no way in hell he was gonna cuddle with nancy. besides, he was good at the class— so no need to pay attention really.

at least miss noelle didn’t call his mom.

dustin, lucas, and will were waiting for him in the hall. oh, and max, cause she was actually kind of cool.

“what was up with miss noelle?” lucas asked as they walked down the hall.

“pissed i fell asleep in class,” mike said dejectedly. max snorted from beside him.

“maybe just don’t fall asleep?” she asked rhetorically.

mike huffed and flipped her off. “you sound like my dad.”

dustin shuddered from his other side. “ew. not cool man.”

mike rolled his eyes. “it’s true! my dads always like ‘just don’t this’ and ‘just don’t do that’ instead of actually helping! It’s so annoying.”

will came up and bumped arms with him while they finally left the school. classes were done and they were finally left to do what they wanted.

“uh oh.” came from lucas. mike sighed, catching sight of what— or who— lucas was “uh oh-ing” about.

“just don’t look at them,” max said under her breath while she averted her eyes to the ground.

“that never works,” retorted lucas.

“you have any better ideas? just keep walking.”

great. the one day nancy or jonathan aren’t picking them up and they run into noah and joey.

in 1983, el had gotten troy and james to back off— even scaring them into moving. but el’s not here right now, so she can’t help with noah and joey— the party’s most recent tormentors.

will stepped closer to mike and mike nudged his hand with his. everyone pulled in closer to each other in hopes of concealing themselves and the others. of course, it didn’t work.

“hey hey! look man, it’s the circus!” mike saw noah nudge joey beside him.

“shit,” dustin cursed.

and ‘shit’ was right. no one wanted to deal with noah and joey. especially with the mood mike was currently in after being held up.

“seriously what hell is it, tanner?” mike addressed noah directly.

joey whistled lowly and took a sharp step forward. will and dustin both flinched pretty hard. max gave a twitch but lucas and mike held their ground for the most part. noah and joey got a kick laughing at dustin and will.

“awwww they’re scared, joey! like a bunch of babies!”

mike forgot how stupid kids sound most of the time. they could call him a baby all they wanted— nothing will ever compare to watching will get possessed and then watching bob die.

mike still reached out and grabbed someone’s hand. he thinks it was lucas’.

joey and noah were both a good bit taller than mike, which meant they were also a good bit taller than everyone else in the party. they liked to use their height to their advantage but mike had dealt with monsters twice his height. it wasn’t scary, just annoying at this point.

still didn’t help the fact that they didn’t want to deal with this.

mike had zoned out, because next thing he knew he was being shoved to the ground. it probably wouldn’t have hurt too bad if they weren’t outside in the parking lot. mike felt his chin bust on the pavement in a sickening repeat of ‘83 with troy and james.

will was there in a second with dustin, helping him up off the ground and dusting him off. dustin held his hands while Will held his face, frantic over the now gushing blood that he could feel running down his neck. he was trembling. why was he trembling?

he faintly heard yelling and assumed lucas and max were arguing with joey and noah.

“just fuck off, murphy!” he heard max yell at joey. “we’ve literally done nothing to either of you and yet you make us hate our fucking lives!”

“aww, noah, she thinks we actually care! isn’t that cute?”

mike stood up with the help up dustin and will. but that only served to turn noah and joey’s attention onto him. well. better on him than on max.

“so whatcha gonna do, wheeler? gonna push me like troy? gonna wimp out and go cry to mommy and daddy?”

mike actually considered pushing joey. but that’d probably just make thing worse. if el hadn’t been there last year to save his ass from troy mike would’ve gotten pummeled.

but it was a serious option he considered.

dustin stepped in front of mike and shoved joey back. mike didn’t even realize how close he’d gotten. wow. he was really out of it today, huh?

“back off murphy.”

mike wanted to hug dustin, but at the same time he wanted to smack him upside the head for putting himself in the way. it’s easier when they target mike. just let them target him. he doesn’t care at this point.

dustin stayed arguing with joey and stopped only when there were multiple shouts from max, will and lucas.

noah had pulled max’s hair and in return was shoved to the ground by lucas. but noah had taken will down with him and now will struggled with lucas and max to get noah off.

mike saw red, and in a moments notice had noah off of will and on the ground. he was vaguely aware of dustin and max cheering him on with dustin and will watching.

it didn’t last very long until noah shoved mike hard enough that he fell backwards and busted his head on the ground. again.

at this point he was working himself towards a concussion. just like steve, he thought deliriously. and speak of the devil.

“aye!”

mike, dustin, lucas, will, and max all looked up, startled by the familiar voice and claps.

“what the fuck are you shits doing, huh?”

steve fucking harrington was suddenly right next to mike on the ground, kneeling and helping him sit up.

“shit, you ok mike? that’s a nasty scrape you got there. i have bandaids in the car, let’s go get you one, yeah?”

mike just nodded. he really wanted to know what the fuck steve was doing there and why he seemed to intent on helping.

“who the fuck are you?”

steve stood with mike halfway to the car, the rest of the group following, mike noticed. joey and noah stood idly in the parking lot, seeming put out by steve’s sudden appearance.

steve’s eye twitched and mike watched him bite the inside of his cheek. mike watched in real time as steve recognized joey and noah and seemed to piece together exactly what happened. he scoffed. not what mike was expecting.

steve gently nudged mike towards the car and knocked his knuckles on dustin’s hat. “you kids go get in the car. max you can toss your board in the trunk.”

dustin seemed to want to protest but even he could see how pissed steve was. even max was keeping quiet. lucas and will were quick to follow instructions and headed to the car. mike was right behind them.

lucas tried the back door (knowing mike got shotgun for the bandaids and possible concussion) but the handle only wiggled. “locked.”

“did he give one of you the keys?” asked will.

they all shook their heads. they didn’t have to wait long until steve was back with them at the car.

“why aren’t you guys in the car yet?”

“locked.” informed will.

“ohhhh. oops.” steve unlocked the car and helped max put her skate board in the trunk. when he hopped into the drivers side dustin and lucas were hounding him with questions.

“why are you here?”

“I thought we were walking home?”

“what the hell was that?”

“what did you do to noah and joey?”

“settle down and shut up, would you? nancy mentioned you guys were walking home so I came to grab you. you’d think that after everything they’d be a little more cautious. and also, language, henderson. I am so not taking the blame when you end up slipping in front of your mom.”

“awww you were worried steve.” max teased.

steve scoffed. “‘course I was, red. and it turned out I had every right to be. anybody wanna explain what that was?”

suddenly the car was quiet.

steve clicked his tongue.

“fine. guess you’re all coming to my house, huh?”

there was a sudden uproar in questions and “what the hell?”s.

“listen! i’m not letting any of you shits go home until I one; know for sure mike doesn’t have a concussion—“ steve eyed mike and he felt himself flinch. “—and two; before I get the whole story.”

there was a bunch of grumbling from the backseat, but mike himself stayed quiet throughout the rest of the ride.

“oh! and mike—“ mike looked at steve briefly and barely caught the box of tissues tossed at him. “—put that on the scrape for now, yeah? I’ll clean it properly when we get to the house.”

mike nodded and held a wad of tissues to his chin.

when they pulled up to the harrington house, everyone was inside quickly. everyone went to use the phone in the living room to call their parents and when mike went to follow he was grabbed gently on the shoulder.

“can you head to the kitchen and grab out the med-kit? I need to make sure they don’t drive my bill up.”

mike knew it was meant to be used as a distraction. but he’d take it. so he headed to the kitchen before realizing he didn’t know where the med-kit was. he rifled around in the cabinets for a bit before finding it stored away under the sink.

mike pulled it out and waited at the kitchen island. he noticed that it was a pretty heavy kit. and it seemed to be used a lot judging by the lack of dust and how it had a couple of bandages peeking from the crease.

everyone piled into the kitchen, book bags dumped in the living room and shoes discarded by the door. will sat on a stool next to mike and dustin and max hopped on the counter. lucas took a seat on the other side of mike.

“ooookay. ah! there it is.” steve opened the kit and grabbed out a brown bottle and a few cotton balls. mike noted how he seemed to know where everything in the med-kit was as if he used it on a daily. he filed the information away for later.

“what’s that supposed to be?” mike eyed the bottle with weariness.

“just peroxide. it’s meant to clean the cut. I know for a fact that that parking lot is fucking filthy and I’m not risking an infection due to gunk in the wound.”

steve put a cotton ball to the open top of the bottle and tipped the bottle over. “i’m not going to lie and say it doesn’t hurt, cause it does sting a bit. but it also definitely helps in the long run.” steve held up the cotton ball as if in question.

mike nodded and looked up, giving steve more room to see the scrape. mike gripped will’s hand and hissed when the cotton ball first dabbed, but the pain soon subsided.

“now this part isn’t too fun either but it’s kind of needed. how attached to that shirt are you?”

mike looked down at that faded, off-white with blue stripes shirt he was wearing. “not very. why?”

“ok, good. this won’t ruin the shirt but you might have to change is all i’m saying. I need to pour the peroxide directly on the scrape to clean it out properly. “

(I know that hydrogen peroxide actually tends to damage tissue and delay healing but they didn’t really know that in the 80s so bare with me.)

mike shuddered at the thought. “I don’t have clothes to change into.”

“I have an extra shirt in my bag.” offered lucas. “I had gym today.” he clarified when he got off looks.

“that’d be perfect, thanks sinclair.”

lucas jumped up to get the shirt and came back in with a white t-shirt with red sleeves. he set it on the counter for afterwards. lucas wordlessly took mike’s hand that will wasn’t holding.

it wasn’t long before the scrape was clean and steve was putting away the kit. while everyone else ran into the living room to watch movies and raid steve’s snacks, mike took the shirt and went to the bathroom to change.

when he came back out (after looking at the funny bandage on his chin— because seriously, what kind 17 year old just had dinosaur bandaids in their med-kit?) mike was quick to join everyone in the living room before steve could pull him aside again.

honestly? fuck that guy.

(but when mike sat between will and max on the couch he couldn’t stop thinking about how soft steve was when taking care of the scrape. he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how old he was when he last felt that gentleness.

the answer was 7. mike was 7 when his mom deemed him old enough to deal with his own cuts and bruises.)

steve eventually held out on his promise of getting information. and after their first movie he forced them all onto the couches while he stood in front of them.

“so am I actually going to get an answer this time?” he stood with his hands on his hips and a dish towel thrown over his shoulder. mike remembered this same stance from not even a year ago, when they were trying to talk him into going in the tunnels.

steve almost reminded mike of his mom for a moment. but mike doubted his mom would go this far if she ever found out about the bullying. (mike refused to admit that he liked the idea of steve fretting over them like this. the idea made him almost sick to his stomach.)

everyone refused to look at him. max looked dead ahead at the wall, lucas kept his eyes trained on the floor, will was messing with his jacket sleeves and dustin was paying extra attention to the ceiling.

mike chewed the inside of his cheek.

“what the hell do you wanna hear from us, steve?” he asked. “that we’re being bullied? that they picked a fight with us first? that we’re nerds and freaks and weirdos?”

will, dustin and lucas flinched with each insult. max refused to look at anything other than what mike assumed was the odd spot on the wall. mike saw steve’s left eye twitch— the one he was always getting punched in.

“that what they told you?”

mike scoffed. “that’s what everyone told us. we’re the school circus!” his voice raised at the end and will flinched violently next to him.

“mike..” dustin uttered from beside max.

“sorry.” he mumbled, finally letting his gaze drop from steve to the coffee table in front of them.

steve sighed quietly.

“noah tanner and joey murphy, right? they both have older siblings, noah an older brother and joey an older sister.”

that made head snap to him.

“what—“ lucas started.

“mitchel tanner and annie murphy are their names. mitch is on the swim team, annie on the cheer team. they’re both barely passing their classes and aren’t exactly the kindest either— in fact I watched mitch shove freshman into a door yesterday.” steve continued, his voice soft as if he was simply talking to himself.

dustin’s and lucas’ jaws were on the floor, max and will were looking at him as if he were insane.

“so— wait—“

“you know their older siblings?”

“what the hell does that have to do with anything?”

steve smirked. and mike was /scared/. he’d seen steve smirk before, when he was dating nancy, when he said something particularly bitchy.

but this. this smirk was plain /mean/.

“would be a real shame if.. I dunno, their coaches suddenly find out about the poor sophomores they make do their homework. or worse— principal higgins finds out. who are mitch and annie gonna blame then, huh?”

dustin sputtered, “you! they’d just blame you, wouldn’t they?”

steve shrugged. “sure. but then they’d know why I did it. their brothers fucking with my kids.”

he said it so calmly. as if it was just the plain truth. as if he wasn’t scared to admit it.

if this is how he’s treated, being of steve’s “kids”, then shit. he may not be all that mad after all.

steve pulled the towel off his shoulder and walked back into the kitchen, a call over his shoulder about ham and cheese sliders and chips for dinner.

but none of the kids were listening.

lucas turned dustin who turned to max who turned to mike who turned to will who looked back at all of them with the biggest grin mike’s ever seen on his face.

ok. so maybe mike gets the hype the steve harrington.

(and if the next week of school went by with no issues, with noah and joey looking at them in /fear/? well. mike had steve to thank.)

231 notes · View notes

kindagayfish · 1 year

Note

I am also very obsessed with Babygirl Vash lol how about the classic sharing a bed trope with Vash? It can be swf or not! We just need more imagines of him!

Vash and sharing the bed trope

A/N: YES SHARING THE BED TROPE I LOVE IT SO MUCH HDJBSFHKSBFHKDBGHJB especially when its with bb girl vash *swoon* I’ve seen quite a few of these scenarios already but there will never be enough to satisfy me. I made this one sfw cause I really just wanted to write some fluff. Also, I finished the OG Trigun and I see some differences between OG Vash and Stampede Vash. I’ll be writing for the Stampede characters unless specified otherwise. We just haven’t seen him flirt with anyone yet, while in the OG he was very much a Chad lol. So sorry for the quality, and for taking so long. I haven’t written fanfiction in a LONG TIME. Seriously it’s been years but it feels nice to do it again. But how do people write these so quickly like damn.

Contains: fluff, Gender-neutral reader, And not really proof-read cause we die like men out here.

When you open your eyes again, it’s still dark. Your mouth cracks open in a yawn and you slowly become aware of someone pressed up against your back.

Oh. Oh that’s right.

It had been an exhaustingly long day trekking through the desert, and an even longer evening trying to find a place to stay the night. You have no idea what possessed every abled body in Noman's Land to travel to the same town as you, but every room in the dusty motel next to the bar was taken. Even the porch swing had some poor soul wrapped up in his coat for the night.

You and Vash were about to call it and take turns sleeping in a nearby alley, when an old woman took pity on you and offered up her spare room. You were so excited to sleep in a real bed that you didn’t even think to ask about the size of the space.

It wasn’t until the both of you had finally gotten into the tiny, very much intended for one person or two people squished very close together bed, that you realized how incredibly awkward the whole situation is.

“Hey-”

“WELL GOODNIGHT” You had blurted out, turning so that your back was to Vash, hiding your flustered expression. He is a little too good at reading your face sometimes, and you didn’t need him asking questions.

He replied with a quiet goodnight, feeling him shift away as well.

Now, Vash’s breath is hot on the back of your neck as he snores lightly, his spiky hair tickling your skin. Sometime in the night, his arms found their way around your middle and pulled you flush against his chest, securing you in place.

This particular scenario had been one you’ve played in your head on loop anytime the two of you had slept close to one another. It’s like a dream come true. And any other time, you would have nestled back into his hold and fell back asleep, hoping that this action was intentional; but instead, you silently curse yourself for chugging a whole gallon of water after arriving in town. Because my god you have to pee.

He stirs slightly when you shift, hugging you closer and burying his face into your shoulder. You feel yourself growing hot as he lets out a content sigh, lips ghosting over your skin. It quickly becomes clear that you’re not escaping without waking him.

“Vash…” You whisper his name softly, not wanting to alarm him. “Vash?”

“Hmm?” he hums, breathing in deeply. Vash lifts his head and loosens his grip slightly. You take this opportunity to turn and meet his eyes. They’re droopy with sleep, blinking a bit. He gives you a lazy smile before whispering, “hi.”

“Uh hi.” Your heart rate picks up at the sight before you, and you swallow hard. “Could you um…”

“Hm?” It takes a moment for him to register the kind of position you are in. “Oh. OH SORRY.” Vash squeaks with wide eyes, releasing you quickly with a growing blush on his face. Getting out of the bed in a hurry as an attempt to hide your own flustered state, you almost miss the deflated look he gives when you’re no longer next to him.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah yeah. Just ya know…bathroom.”

“Right right.”

You quietly make your way to the bathroom, making sure not to wake your host who slept soundly in the room next to yours. Part of you wanted to rush to get back, feeling chilly after leaving the warm bed and Vash’s arms. You hide your burning face in your hands as his smile flashes in your mind.

He’s just so…ATTRACTIVE. Ever since you realized you had fallen for him, it has been increasingly harder to hide your feelings. Any time he touches you (which is a considerable amount when running from danger) has your brain short-circuiting and your stomach doing flips. Sometimes you can’t help but wonder if Vash is really this oblivious, or if he is ignoring it to save you both the embarrassment of a rejection. Either way, you aren’t sure if you’re ready to face the truth just yet.

Maybe if I take long enough he’ll fall back asleep and it won’t have to be weird.

After a considerable amount of time pacing the bathroom, you finally make the short walk back to the spare bedroom.

To your slight disappointment, Vash is asleep by the time you slip back into the bed next to him. His face is calm, a stark contrast to the way his brows furrow together during an intense confrontation, and you take a moment to admire his face in the moonlight. You brush a few hairs back from his forehead and immediately freeze when his eyes flutter open.

“Hi” he whispers a second time.

Pulling your hand back, you feel your face grow hot again. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you twice.”

“It’s okay: Vash replies, smiling softly.

You continue to stare at each other, both unsure of what to say next. It’s subtle, but you start to see a blush creep up Vash’s neck and reach the tips of his ears.

“Um” Vash is the one to break the silence, reaching for you. “Can I…?”

“Yes” you answer immediately, scooting your body closer to his.

“Does that make this weird?”

You let out a laugh. "You just caught me watching you sleep and you think this is weird?"

“Fair enough" Vash laughs with you. "But are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Oh okay good” He breathes out a sigh in relief, pulling you completely into him. Feeling his body relax against yours, you tuck your head up under his chin, ear pressed against his chest. You swear his heart is pounding as intensely as your own.

“So warm” Vash mumbles into your hair. You let out a content hum, allowing sleep to overtake you once more.

BONUS

Some general headcanons:

Man sleeps like a ROCK with you

Very used to having to wake up and jet at any moment so I assume he’s a light sleeper. But with you next to him? His body finally allows him to get those good Zs.

Clingy af

Good luck escaping Vash’s arms in the middle of the night. Once he has latched on, you won’t be free until morning.

Will 110% snore lightly in your ear

mumbles in his sleep too. Usually you can’t make out what he is saying though.

Loves any cuddling positions, but his FAVORITES are any where you are the one holding him.

Vash always wants you to play with his hair. Legit will turn to putty in your hands if you scratch his scalp.

Sometimes will even nuzzle into your shoulder to get you to do it because he’s too embarrassed to ask

If you need some extra comforting at night, maybe you had a nightmare or something particularly scary happened that day, he will lay you on his chest and softly hum/sing until you fall asleep. (I honestly think Vash would have a really nice singing voice)

Usually the last one to fall asleep, and the first one to wake up. He really enjoys the quiet moments with you. It’s the way you softly smile at him in the dawning sunlight that makes him forget that he’s a wanted man.

#vash x reader #vash x you #trigun x reader #trigun stampede

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yeahiamjustalittleguy · 11 months

Note

can i request reader x hermits (seperate) ? like reader has a bunch of old scars and on a hot day they wear a tank top and expose all of their scars? completely okay if not AND TAKE CARE OF URSELF🫶

Okay, let me tell you, as someone with quite a visible scar on my face (I was a very courageous and dumb kid) and a few less visible ones on my hand, I get asked about it so so often and this request hits hard and I have decided to put my whole soul into it as headcanons. I've just picked a couple hermits I feel would have different reactions to it so here u go!

HEADCANON:

Grian

This boy is not going to mention it, like, at all

He has his own bad memories and sad backstory so he understands that you might not want to talk about it

The only reason he would ever talk about it would be if you ever showed any discomfort or insecurity about it

If you just never talked about it he wouldn’t either

Maybe at some point he would reassure you about yourself if you’re both deep in a relationship, but he would never explicitly mention the scars

If you do mention them at all, it depends on how you approach it

He knows how to tell situations very well and I think he would still be careful about it

If you approach it humorously, like it doesn’t affect you then he will too

Maybe ask you where some of the bigger ones are from and expect you to tell him some good stories

If you get uncomfortable about them, or insecure he will reassure you

“I love you no matter what” or “I think they make you look cool”

He will always be supportive

Mumbo

He does try his best, but the moment he sees you he can’t help it

Shock on his face as he clearly looks you over

It’s clear he is concerned, and if you’re alone he will ask you about it

Stuff like if you’re okay, if you ever want to talk about it or if you need anything

If you reassure him you’re fine, he will totally dote on you after he is done being shocked

Will kiss your exposed scars and talk about how pretty or handsome you are to him

He will totally try to spend extra time with you, both because he learned a new thing about you that makes him love you even more but also because he is secretly making sure you’re totally okay

Even if you say you are, he would rather make sure

He will keep a little bit of a closer eye on everything you do and every little emotion you display just to keep himself sure you’re really okay

Either way he loves you how you are

Scar

This fool, this dumbass man

He cannot keep his mouth shut at all

He thinks communication is so much easier and better than having to just bottle things up or keep guessing what everyone else is thinking

So he just mentions it, asks where they’re from if you’re okay with him asking

He tries to guess it, if you’re not

The guesses will start out super detailed stories that are so far fetched as to ease you into it

“So this one is obviously from a wolf attack, where you managed to fight off 3 wolfs the size of the moon with nothing but your bare hands”

Then he will slowly try to reel it in and guess them more accurately

If one is sort of a piercing one, he will say you lost a duel in a bow fight

The one on your arm? That one is a cut from training your sword skills

He is just spitballing, trying to get it right

Either way he will pester you until you open up to him, he will not let it go

He thinks it’s so cool and really makes you look tough

Will ask you to protect him since you’re so strong

Will also definitely trace your scars whenever you are idle and he has the chance to

Even if you ask him not to, it just happens and he will laugh it off

He starts to slowly like them, the more he sees them

Every rare moment you show them, he slowly appreciates them more and more

Really weird but he has favorites

He just loves them to be honest

It makes you so uniquely you

Etho

No matter what he will start out by making some sort of snarky little comment

“Did you fight your kitchen drawer and lose or something?”

It’s not mean spirited at all, it’s supposed to be humorous

He just likes to approach things with lightheartedness and jokes

He knows it might be a serious topic, but his objective is always to turn it into something fun or less serious to try and make you feel better about it

He won’t dote on you or reassure you like the others unless you open up about it

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you the way you are, his love is just more subtle like that

It’s small things you wouldn’t immediately notice about his reaction to it

Sometimes he will look at one of them and imagine the pain or maybe even accidentally imagine the person who might have given it to you

It’ll make him look at them with hatred, but it’s not directed at you even if it would seem that way

He’d make up little fantasies of revenge in his head to clear the thoughts

At this point you might even be the one who will have to reassure him that it’s no problem anymore, if it ever even was

Bdubs

He will instantly be all over you, and no matter your approach he will be excited

Unless you just start straight up crying he won’t notice if you’re sad or insecure about them cause he is just so excited about seeing a different part of you

He’s the same as Scar where he wants to know where every little scar comes from

If it’s serious he will of course reassure you, but he will definitely also compliment them no matter what

He just think they suit you, and in the end Bdubs is sort of just a hopeless romantic

Anything that is a part of you, he loves it

Anything that is you is beautiful

Which in turn makes your scars beautiful too

He feels closer to you, looking at them because in the end it tells your story and your past, making him feel like he is closer to it

It’s something he’s probably been sad about before, that not every inch of your life is tied together, that there are parts of you that he can’t be a part of which is before you met

But seeing the scars can help him understand that part, and sort of relate to you in a way that he finds very intimate

So of course he will pester you about them any given time they are on display

He does love them, just as much as he loves you

Pearl

She’s definitely the most careful out of all of them, at least out of the ones who want to approach the topic at all

As much as she is a rambunctious personality she is also an extremely caring thoughtful individual

And as much as she doesn’t want to overstep her boundaries she also has to know you’re okay

So she approaches it very head on, but she picks her words very carefully

“I don’t know if you ever want to talk about it, but I’m willing to listen if you ever want to tell me anything about your scars.”

That’s all she ever says about it, and at that point it’s up to you to go to her about it

She wants to be as respectable to you about it as possible

She has the mindset that she doesn’t need to know if you don’t want her to know

As long as she’s sure you’re okay now, your past doesn’t matter to her

For what she thinks about them look wise, she does think they suit you

It’s not going to change how she thinks about you, knowing you have a few scars

And she has a couple herself so it doesn’t really matter

She still loves you

Tango

Tango is probably the one with the roughest reaction

He is pretty emotionally driven, and just seeing something like that on you genuinely breaks his heart

It’s almost like he is going through the pain you went through with every single scar at once

He’s almost just,,, getting teary eyed seeing you and you might get confused at the looks he is giving you as you see each other

You probably won’t understand exactly what is going on with him and he simply takes your hands in his and he stares at you before embracing you in a warm hug

He wants you to feel physically that he is there for you

“Where are these all from?”

You cannot get out of a heart to heart with this man, and even if it’s all from totally normal and uneventful encounters he still thinks it’s very serious

Even if it was not traumatic like, at all, just you at some point being in pain is awful to him

Just the few times you’ve gotten hurt while on the server with him has been awful for him so to know you’ve gone through pain that’s left scars is unbearable

He doesn’t like your scars, hands down I will just say it

He hates having a constant reminder that you experience pain because he wants nothing but happiness for you

Obviously it’s delusional to think you’d never experience anything bad, he knows that, but he still wants that to be the case so bad and having to see it every time just sucks for him

That’s not to say he doesn’t think you’re still beautiful, he does, he thinks you’re amazing

But he does just wish you’d never have to go through that

Xisuma

Oh boy

His first thought, and I am sorry to admit this, would be how hot that is

He loves that type of thing, he can’t help it

This guy loves a man/woman with a story to tell, and scars to show

BUT that does not mean that the next thought isn’t slight worry

He’s been through it all, considering he is experienced with every kind of server and an admin who has had to consider all kinds of walks of life and he knows what some servers are like

That in itself has lead to him being very observant and mindful, and he also knows exactly how to handle it no matter what

He won’t ask, he will wait for you to come to him, if need be

If you do explain them, he will take it from there. Sad? He’s got just the right words to assure you that you’re both safe and that it changes nothing in his opinion of you (It does.. He finds it so hot)

Happy and uncaring? He is making the best jokes you’ve ever heard about it

There is no losing with this blessing of a man

#hermitcraft x reader #hermitcraft x y/n #hermitcraft x you #hermitblr #xisuma x reader #Grian x reader #mumbo x reader #tangotek x reader #Pearlescentmoon x reader #etho x reader #Bdouble0 x reader #goodtimeswithscar x reader

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pinkuberii · 1 year

Text

- In between part II -

Tw: Albedo’s part may be a liiiitle bit suggestive Wc: 1643 Genre: Fluff Summary: Some other genshin men (Xiao, Wanderer, Albedo & Alhaitham) letting their head rest between your thighs A/N: wOW LOOK AT ME POSTING SOMETHING AFTER MONTHS- I hope that you guys like it though because I haven’t written in a while! <333

Part I (Diluc, Childe, Kaeya and Zhongli) -> <3 Masterlist -> <3

Xiao:

I don’t know how you managed to convince him

But honestly congratulations

Like it definitely must have been hard-

y/n can you perhaps share your techniques with us-

I have to manipulate my mom into saying “yes” to a few things

oh my god 50 words in and I still didn’t start-

BUT ANYWAY-

After hours you managed to persuade him into resting his head between your super amazing thighs 🫶

He’d be so so so shy, especially when you first shared your idea with him

And you’d be able to see that on his face and eyes

Because the eyes never deceive

His cheeks are no longer pale but there’s a soft pink hue on them

Just like the color of the silk flowers that bloom right in front of Wangshu inn <3

Don’t get me started with his golden eyes that can’t gaze straight into yours like they usually do

They’re staring at the wooden floor right now-

Sir what so interesting about the floor I’m curious- 🎤🎤🎤

It’s not that he doesn’t want to see you, not at all!

But this is just the first time that he’ll do something more intimate… something that requires more touching…

When he finally gained enough courage to glance towards your direction his eyes immediately focused on the sight of your bare thighs, a deep breath deserting his soft lips as he moved closer.

As you slowly opened your legs for him you couldn’t do much but smile. It was rare to see someone this calm become this flustered after all. “If I knew that you’d blush this much I would’ve offered to do this way sooner,” you said softly.

He managed to mutter a quiet “c’mon” before placing his head between your thighs. The warmth of your body made him feel at ease. Everything about this was already so comforting to him. The way it felt, how relaxed he became after your fingers started to travel through his dark locks, the way his hand held yours and many more things he could possibly think of.

Maybe you were right, maybe you should’ve offered to do this way sooner…

He surprisingly loves it

This is straight up intimacy to him-

Please do it more often with him y/n :(

During the whole thing he’s clueless on what to do though

So he just keeps his eyes closed and holds your hand that is currently free

Wanderer:

y/n what the phoque did you just propose to him????

He’s absolutely flabbergasted as we speak… and flustered too-

But you don’t have to know that, that’s not important <3

I mean he’s a puppet so can he even blush-?

He probably can’t and that’s lowkey sad-

I’m gonna paint his cheeks pink for you y/n- 🫶

Pinker than the dendrobiums that you can find on Nazuchi Beach

You’ve known him for a while so you quickly noticed how his behavior was a bit off…

Like his usual confident self was nowhere to be spotted

He’s trying to act all cocky though but he is failing miserably :(

For some reason he can’t even make a snarky comment back like he usually does-

And woah-

Did he just start to stutter??? That is new… 🤨

He’s been through a lot so showing and receiving affection really isn’t his forte-

It’s something he has to learn

But you’re here to help him with that <3

His indigo eyes just glance from your face to your thighs… and your face again… and now your thighs once again. “Everything to make them happy,” he thought to himself before mumbling a soft “I’ll do it” to you.

Upon hearing those words the corners of your lips immediately rose and your legs opened widely for him. To your surprise he accepted your offer quite quickly considering you had thought that it’d take way more to persuade him. Your (e/c) colored eyes avidly watched him place his head between your legs as you couldn’t conceal your wide smile.

He clearly felt your warm thighs press against his cheeks, the heat of them making his own face warm. In a gentle manner he put his hands on them and started to give small strokes with his thumbs. It was his own subtle way of thanking you.

“I’m thinking that you’re liking this… You would’ve pulled your face away already if you ha–”, a sudden pain made you put a halt to your words.

He’s back to normal now dammit :/

He pinched you… as a little warning-

But he did it softly because he loves you <3

Lowkey wants to do it a bit more often but knowing him he wouldn’t say that to your face

Y’know what he also does-

Squeeze your thighs even tighter against his face to the point where his cheeks get squished

Hehehe

Albedo:

Tell him that it’s for science-

Or that you’re curious about something and want to test your theory out-

But say that first before explaining the the whole I-want-your-head-to-rest-between-my-thighs thing

He probably has a faint red color on his cheeks when you tell him all that for the very first time <3

Anyway Albedo is a smart guy so he probably is fully aware that you don’t have a theory to prove to begin with-

AKA you just want his head ✨ there ✨ and he knows it

But he’ll help you out nonetheless because you make his heart flutter-

His heart basically goes nuts hehe

Strangely enough only your presence, actions, words etc… has such effects on his body…

I don’t mean anything suspicious with this iN CASE YOU WERE WONDERING-

*cOugh*

aNyWaY-

He has that smug expression on his face again

Smugbedo

Yeah that

But he’s also a little bit shy and flustered at the same time

It’s you so he can’t help it :(

Probably gives your thighs a few smooches before placing his head between them

Starts squeezing them too while he’s at it because he adores your body

One happy alchemist as we speak

After giving your legs some kisses he positions himself between them, happily letting you squeeze his face. As you two sit in silence you suddenly feel his ungloved hands on your bare thighs tracing figures.

“Someone can’t keep their hands to themselves, can they,” you teased as you leaned closer to the male in front of you. Your nose inhaled his sweet scent as your lips gave kisses on his head, your own hands on top of his now.

Albedo chuckled before answering, “And you can’t stop kissing me so I guess we’re even, no? Besides–,” he turned around to face you, “what are you trying to prove? What are you researching?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled.

He smirked at you before turning around, “thought so.”

Told ya he’s smart :d

In my opinion he’s a bit more on the teasing side when he’s alone with his lover and moments like these happen

90% of the time he’s his usual self

bUT THAT 10 PERCENT-

Funnily enough, next time he wants something like this to happen he’ll approach you with the same excuse you had

“y/n can you sit like this for me for a quick second I must research something rather important–”

And my archons what do we have here-

Is that Albedo’s head between your thighs-???

Alhaitham:

I wanna write for this dude

And that’s exactly what I’m doing on this fine Wednesday morning desPITE BEING SICK-

Okay but-

When you first suggest it he’s looking at you like this

,’:|???

Yes those are his eyebrows, he’s frowning don’t judge me-

You’d have to ask it a few times before he gives in though

In my opinion he isn’t the biggest fan of PDA, nor is he touchy or clingy either

He reminds me of a rock, like I’m straight up getting rock vibes from him

If you look good and close enough you may be able to see that little blush on his cheeks… And maybe his ears too…

Squint your eyes a bit if your eyesight is bad like mine :(

He’d take his big ass headphones off just for you <3

Why use noise canceling headphones when y/n’s thighs aRE RIGHT THERE- ;););)

Before sitting between your legs he would probably give your thighs a few squeezes and kisses

He’s not the most romantic man out there but it’s his way of saying and showing that he loves and appreciates you 🫶

Turns out that your thighs work better than his headphones???

He’s shocked… stunned… flabbergasted…

But at the same he kind of loves it… ehe

“I’m starting to hear noises from outside again,” Alhaitham mumbled before putting his book down. Once his hands were free he used them to grab your thighs rather tenderly once again, bringing them closer to his ears, “Make sure to keep them closed like this.” After that he picked his book up again to continue reading from where he left off… as if he just didn’t fluster the shit out of you.

The only thing you could possibly mutter was a faint sounding “okay”. God, even his little wish made a pinkish hue appear on your face and you simply couldn’t do anything about it. You two sat in that position for a little while before he finally closed that thick book in his hands to look at you.

As his teal eyes gazed into yours he spoke feebly, “In all honesty… I wouldn’t mind doing this a bit more often… If you’d want to, that is.”

It’s Alhaitham approved, congratulations (y/n) 😼👍

He’s an honest man so you definitely know that he liked it

If you think about it it’s him being busy with you while he reads his books

He’s multitasking

But he’s doing the two things that he likes ;)

So it’s a win-win

#esu writes—📝#genshin impact #genshin #xiao x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #albedo x reader #alhaitham x reader #xiao genshin impact #wanderer genshin impact #scaramouche genshin impact #albedo genshin impact #alhaitham genshin impact #xiao x you #albedo x you #scaramouche x you #wanderer x you #alhaitham x you #genshin impact x reader

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farfaras · 1 year

Text

I think I got an ex but I forgot him

Part 1.

Part 2. (You’re here!)

Part 3.

They came up with ground rules, boundaries were important and whatnot. However, they didn’t plan on doing this for long, so they also had to come up with a believable storyline for the future course of the relationship.

This is what they have so far:

Only Dustin knew, it would stay that way. For now.

Hugs and holding hands was okay.

Pet names that were allowed included: babe, baby, honey… and that’s about it.

This will last only one or two months to really sell it.

No kisses required.

As for the storyline. That was a little bit harder to come up with. Obviously the timeline was a no brainer. They got together two weeks after Jonathan and Nancy broke up. Jonathan tried to protest. “That makes me look bad.” “Yeah well, you dating me overall makes you look bad.” “Makes you look weird, then.” “Whatever.” But they didn’t have too many options, it was that or the literal last week. And call them paranoid, but Steve thinks Dustin would see through that.

When that was out of the way, they planned the way their (fake) relationship would go wrong. “Maybe I realized I was a rebound.” “Do you want Dustin to hate me?”

At the end, what they agreed on wasn’t even that far off. They came up with phases they had to complete. Hopefully they would be able to showcase that Jonathan started dating Steve because he was supposedly just lonely and needed someone, he didn’t realize what he was doing and didn’t mean to hurt Steve. They would say they talked it out and decided to stay friends because that would be for the best. No hard feelings.

Phase one. Jonathan being an attentive and affectionate boyfriend. Steve gushing about it to Dustin.

Phase two. Jonathan spends less time with Steve. Steve starts saying he misses him now and again.

Phase three. Jonathan acts distant. Steve is freaking out.

Phase four and final. Jonathan realizes his mistake and ends things.

It was almost foolproof! And they only had to really fake in front of one person, so it shouldn’t be that hard. Steve didn’t want Jonathan to come out just because Steve needed a favor. This seemed like the best way to do it.

They were hanging out in Jonathan’s room, everything was set and all they needed to do now was act like a couple in front of Dustin and stand a little closer when they were in bigger groups if Dustin was there.

Easy.

But for another day. All they wanted to do right now was just chill.

Steve heard someone knocking on the front door. It was incessant and loud. They wanted to have a chill night but whoever was there, was starting to get annoying.

“Aren’t you gonna…?” Steve pointed to the direction the sound was coming from. “Are you gonna get the door? Are you expecting someone?”

“Nah, ‘s probably a salesman or something. They’re annoying but they’ll be gone soon.” Jonathan muttered, and he really didn’t seem at all bothered by the persisting knocking.

They heard Will come out of his room. “Seriously!” Teenage irritation and disdain. Classic. Looks like he’s gonna get the door.

As soon as the door opened, they heard a familiar voice. What was Dustin doing here?! Was he here to ask Jonathan about Steve? If that’s the case thank god Steve got to Jonathan before Dustin. This kid is something else.

“Is Jonathan here?”

“Wha- he’s in his room. Why?”

“I need to talk to him for a bit. Alone.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Just- I’ll go to your room later.”

Oh Dustin really is here to talk to Jonathan.

Steve jumped in the bed and turned to Jonathan. “Quick. Cuddle me.”

Confusion was all over Jon’s face. “Huh?”

“Dustin is coming, just do it!” He whispered.

“Ugh. Harrington.” Complained Jon.

“That’s babe to you. And you said hugs were fine. Cuddles are just long hugs, come on.” Steve laid in the bed next to Jonathan.

Jonathan turned him so he could spoon him. Steve has never been the little spoon before, but it was kinda nice. They were settling when they heard a knock on the door. “Who is it?” Asked Jon.

“Dustin, can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure.”

When he opened the door his eyes looked like saucers. “Oh my god, it’s true.”

Steve just raised an eyebrow at his antics. He closed the door and sat down in the chair by the desk. “You guys are actually dating.” Dustin whispered-yelled.

“What? You didn’t believe me?”

“I’m a scientist! I need proof to believe stuff!”

Steve and Jonathan got up and sat down by the edge of the bed. They were pressed together, thighs and shoulders touching. Jonathan took his hand and laced their fingers together. “You don’t have a problem with it, do you?” Jonathan asked. He’s a better actor than he thought, he looks protective. Although this is another coming out for him, Steve thinks he’s handling it really well.

“No, no! I already told Steve I don’t care. I just kinda had to confirm it because… well I kinda want to talk about something.” Suddenly Dustin looked wary, hesitant to continue.

“Okay?” This was unexpected. Both Dustin being here and the imminent serious conversation he wanted to have based on his expression alone.

The teen took a deep breath. “First of all I wanted to ask you guys something.” He looked at them expectantly, as if asking for permission to continue. Which was so bizarre because this kid says everything and anything that goes through his mind. Steve nodded. “Are you planning on, you know, telling our friends? The party?” Why would he want to know that?

“Um.” Steve glanced at his fake boyfriend. “No, not really. At least not for a while” Jonathan just nodded at what he said.

“I think you should do it.”

“Huh?” Jonathan paled. Steve understood, that was a big thing. And sure Dustin didn’t seem to be taking it lightly but he still doesn’t understand what something like that can feel like.

“Dustin, I don’t think you get to have an opinion on that.” Steve tried to sound firm.

“No, I know just. I think it might be a good thing. Listen, maybe you’re aware of this or maybe you aren’t.” Dustin leaned in as if he was gonna share a secret. “Someone in our party is having a hard time with their… sexuality. At least I think so. I think seeing a happy gay couple could be good for them. To show that there’s hope or some shit.” He was almost eloquent, if it wasn’t for that slip at the end.

The supposed couple looked at each other, processing what the younger boy just said to them. Steve doesn’t know if Jonathan is out to Will, or vice versa. Steve is not dumb, he sees the way Will looks at Mike sometimes. It was the same way his brother looked at Nancy. It had to be hard, being so young and feeling so alone. Will had to be the person Dustin was talking about, right? The only other gay friend Steve knows they have is Robin, and Dustin has no idea she’s gay if we take into account that he wanted to set her up with Steve not long ago.

“We’ll think about it.” Steve heard Jon say. He was surprised, it looked like Jon was considering it.

“I can assure you our friends will be okay with it. And seeing that might encourage this person to come out! I really think they need the support and I wanna give it to them but I don’t know how.” Gosh. He looked so pained about not being able to comfort Will. Dustin is a really good friend.

“As Jon said, we’ll think about it.”

“O-okay. Thanks.” Dustin got up and exited the room, presumably to go to Will’s.

When they were sure he was in another room they separated and inhaled deeply.

“What do you think?” Steve asked.

“I hadn’t… thought about that.” His hands were in his lap and he looked at the door. “I’m gonna assume you know who he was talking about.”

“I’ve… had my suspicions.” Steve ventured. “Will has been looking sad lately.”

“Yeah. Maybe Dustin’s right. Could be a good thing.” He still looked a bit nervous about the whole idea.

“We don’t have to though.”

“I think we should.”

“Really?” Steve didn’t want to pressure Jon, but he also thought it would be good for Will. That kid needs support but he needs to feel comfortable enough to ask for it. No one knows how he would react if they just dumped on him the information that he’s not as subtle as he thinks.

“Yeah. How hard can it be? Same plan just, more people are gonna know.” Jon smiled. “And Will might feel better. I’d do anything for him.” Will was lucky to have such a caring brother.

Steve grinned mischievously. “We might have to revisit the kissing rule, though.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes and smacked him with his pillow.

———

This is a bit shorter than the last one, sorry about that.

I think I might post a chapter once a week.

Also, the tag list is getting really long! I don’t know if I’ll be adding more to the list.

Thanks for reading. Ps. Eddie might finally be in the next chapter. Watch out.

#I think I got an ex but I forgot him #stranger things 4 #stranger things #st4 #steve harrington #jonathan byers #dustin henderson #will byers #steddie #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #eventually hehe #platonic steve x jonathan #mer writes sometimes #my fics #hi sorry this shorter!!#the fun REALLY starts next chapter I promise #thanks for being patient

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