#I like to argue both sides in case you couldn’t tell

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve Harrington was wearing a Hellfire t-shirt.

It was far too tight on him, the name of the club stretched wide over his chest. The sleeves dug into his biceps, making them pop even more than they usually did, and that was before he crossed his arms. 

Worse?

It was short.

Which meant the damn shirt was constantly riding up to give everyone a nice show of the smattering of hair that trailed down past the band of Harrington's jeans. 

The same hair that Eddie was determinedly not looking at. 

“Henderson, a moment?” He crooked a finger, a smile on his face that was more feral than welcoming. 

Rather than cower or even acknowledge that Eddie was two seconds away from murder, Dustin just gave him a gummy grin, all too pleased with himself and his scheme. 

“Sure Eddie. Steve, don't just stand there, go help set the booth up!” Dustin gestured to Hellfire’s sad little table, crammed all the way in the back of the gym. 

Jeff and Gareth both reacted to the suggestion like a rabid squirrel had been set upon them, nervously inching towards the other side of the booth as Harrington sighed and--shockingly--did as he was told.

‘What,’ Eddie thought angrily, ‘in the everloving fuck.’

“Do you guys mind if I set this down on the table?” Eddie heard Harrington ask as he stormed away, Dustin on his heel. 

They wandered just around the corner, out of sight and hopefully, out of the fallen king’s hearing range.

Eddie wasn't sure if Harrington would try and white knight the very much deserved dressing down he was about to give. 

Didn’t want to chance it, considering the downright weird relationship he had with Hellfire's freshmen.

(While he’d heard many a tale at his table regarding King Steve since the newest recruits had joined Hellfire, most of them dissolved into arguments without ever really going anywhere.

 Best anyone could figure out was that Dustin and Lucas had a bad case of hero worship, while Mike owned a begrudging amount of respect that hailed from a series of misadventures. 

The very same misadventures that, despite all protests to the contrary, was clearly some sort of babysitting gig for Harrington.) 

Either way, plenty of the King’s court would have loved to take this opportunity to fuck with Hellfire.

Given that Henderson was absolutely too old to require a babysitter at fourteen, Eddie would bet his lunch money that was what Steve was here to do.

Something the club couldn’t afford since they were forever and always two seconds away from being stripped of club status and banned from school grounds. 

“I would love to know what went through that all A’s brain of yours when I said,” Eddie whirled on Dustin when they were firmly in the clear, voice low and furious.  “no Henderson, do not invite King Steve to help, he is an invading force and would ruin our peaceful kingdom!?”

He clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into Dustin’s face. “Because clearly whatever you heard wasn’t that.” 

To Eddie’s continued frustration and confusion, Dustin did not treat this like the threat it was. 

None of the freshmen had ever truly treated Eddie like a threat--had somehow skipped that part of the usual onboarding ritual entirely.

Eddie, town freak and drug dealer, who had cultivated his looks and craziness to such a degree that most everyone steered clear, wasn’t used to it. 

Everyone had been afraid of him at some point in this shitty school. Jeff, Gareth, hell even half the staff--and that the dorky trio of fourteen year old's clearly thought this all was play-acting made his eye twitch.

Even if it was--maybe, sometimes--welcome. 

“I know what you said, but I’m telling you I’m right.” Dustin argued immediately, and oh God, he was using that tone again. 

A hand went up into the space between them and Eddie groaned aloud, knowing what was coming.

“First,” Dustin ticked a finger up, “Hellfire really needs the money. Even thirty dollars would get us new figures, but more than that, if we don’t fundraise, we can’t go to Gen Con!” 

Dustin's eyes bored into Eddie’s, full of fire and conviction

“Yes,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but--”

“Second!” Dustin cut him off, and God the little shit even threw him a look while he did it, like Eddie was the one being ridiculous here!

“We had to fight just to get our table! Principal Higgins was in algebra today practically begging the mathletes to show up, but then tried to tell us we couldn't be here? That’s messed up!” 

As if denying them a spot to fundraise was the worst thing that asshole had ever done.

Eddie sighed, breath blasting out of his mouth like a dragon’s. 

“Because people think we’re freaks and satanists, Henderson. You don’t typically invite freaks and satanists to the school’s annual Holiday Bazaar. Especially not when all the local moms are paying to hawk their bullshit crafts and tupperware!” 

It was more than that of course. The Hawkins High Holiday Bazaar was a tradition spanning several years now. Starting in the gym and spilling clear into the parking lot, everyone from local artists to even some local shops came to host a small table for the day, thus growing the event from a small school fundraiser to a Hawkins' “must-do.” 

Half the fucking town was here to sell, and the other half was here to shop, which meant Principle Higgins had wanted Hellfire banned from the fucking premise. 

Eddie had been forced to pull out one of his trump cards he’d been saving--blackmail on Higgins that related to the man’s not--so--legal addiction to Percocet that he relied on Reefer Rick for. 

(And bless Rick, that hadn’t been the only tidbit he’d shared with Eddie about Higgins. That information, however, Eddie needed just so the asshat wouldn’t give him the boot from school entirely.) 

The only reason Eddie had pulled it out to secure their rightful spot, was because of Gen Con. 

It was Hellfire's White Whale, their grand adventure, and this was going to be his year to take his friends on one last epic quest to make memories of a lifetime surrounded by people who understood them.

Come hell or high water, Eddie was going to Gen Con--but being able to fundraise by selling wares and baked goods at the stupid Holiday Bazaar would go a long way to help.

Even if he had to listen to the band repeatedly play ear-bleeding renditions of Christmas songs.

“All the clubs get to have a table, and we’re a club!” Dustin continued, like it was that simple. “But you know, I get it. We look scary.” 

He gestured down to his own Hellfire shirt, before gesturing towards Eddie’s entire outfit.

Like Eddie didn't know what he looked like, let alone that he'd made this outfit specifically to scare people away from him.

(And maybe add some rockstar flair to this dinky little hick town.)

“You know who doesn’t look scary?”

Dustin held out his hands and swiveled his body like he was presenting a prize instead of gesturing in the vague direction of; 

“Steve!”

Eddie’s left eye twitched.

‘You can't kill him, you need his character for the campaign.’ He told himself firmly, even if he envisioned strangling Dustin like a chicken.

Cartoon squawking and all. 

“The King isn’t going to help us fundraise, Dustin.” Eddie said, in an effort to break down why Harrington couldn't be here. “He's just going to cause us problems that we can’t afford to have.” 

So many problems, half of which Eddie couldn't think of because if he did, he'd start spiraling.

“Really? Because as you keep saying, Steve used to be the King. People love him, Eddie! Mom’s love him.”

Eddie had pulled himself black up to his proper height a while ago, and now rocked back on his heels while he ran a hand down his face.

There was no getting through to Henderson when he was like this. 

Not unless Eddie really lost it, and it was practically club lore that he only lost it when someone missed an important game. 

One cannot keep a herd of sheep if their flock is terrified of them, after all. 

(“Perhaps you’re just a giant fucking softie.” Tiff, one of Hellfire’s graduating members, told him once. “Honestly dude, I bet you throw up stuffing.”

“Shut up Tiffany, your choker is on backwards again.” He'd spat back, completely offended and not at all trying to distract from how true that was.) 

“We can’t be satanic if Steve’s the one selling cookies!” Dustin finished doggedly. 

“We’re not even selling cookies--that’s not the point!”” Eddie shook his head, hair flying. He was not going to be sidetracked, he wasn’t!

 “Harrington is going to end up siding with all the moms about how we’re all wasting time with D&D, if he even spends the whole time at the table. Is that what you want?” 

He stuck out a ringed finger, poking at Dustin’s chest.

“Every single person who comes by our table has to be convinced D&D is a writing and math based game. Good for the mind and souls of growing, impressionable children. A game that got a bad rep because of  a few silly images.” 

A pitch he and Tiff had come up with during the third or fourth time they had to convince an adult that no, just because their shirts had a dragon on it, didn’t mean they were summoning demons in the drama room. 

“Harrington can’t do that because Harrington doesn’t even know how to play!” 

This Eddie punctuated by throwing his hands in the air. 

Given the startled look of the mother-daughter duo passing him by, clearly was louder than he’d intended--but screw it!

He was right!

Hellfire was in a precarious position to both fundraise and do a little damage control among the slightly smarter members of this shithole small town, and Harrington rolling his eyes and gossiping about how stupid it was would hinder that.

“Okay, first of all, Steve’s played D&D with me and he didn’t even kill his character.” Dustin said it like he was unveiling a smoking gun and not lying through his ass--which Eddie would absolutely be calling him on the second he was done talking. 

Because King Steve? Play D&D?

'Ha!'

“And he’s not gonna say shit because we--me, and Lucas and even Mike!--asked him to help, and he helps when its serious. I know you have some weird grudge with him, but I’m telling you Eddie he’s our golden ticket to Gen Con!” 

“You’re killing me. You are standing here, acting as a friend, when you are bringing a-- a dark force into the midst our of mission--” Eddie hissed, because he was losing the fucking fight and he knew it.

Dustin Henderson was not a man easily swayed. 

Had never been, even when the odds were stacked against him (and Grant and Gareth were howling in his ear.) 

The set of his shoulders and the glint of the little shithead’s eye meant Eddie wouldn’t be able to use him to oust Harrington--if he even could get him out without the dick causing a massive scene anyway. 

As always when outgunned, Eddie flipped to dramatics.

“Betrayed! By my own chosen heir no less!” He moaned, pressing the back of his hand over his eyes as Dustin scoffed.

"Don’t be so dramatic! Steve will help, I promise! Just don’t be a dick to him.” 

 Conversation apparently over, Dustin turned around to head back to the table

Snidely, he added over his shoulder: “Plus we’ve all caught on to the heir thing Eddie. You tell everyone that so they do what you want.” 

The dick.

“You’re too fucking smart for your own good. I’m gonna start feeding you paint chips to bring that IQ down.” Eddie muttered angrily as Dustin went back to their little table.

He gave himself a moment to get his shit together and stomp a foot like a child when Dustin was around the corner and thus couldn’t witness it, before following his wayward sheep back.

Could only pray to any deity listening that Henderson’s meddling didn’t blow up in Hellfire’s face.

#Door Prize #Alt S4 #pre steddie #when is it not lmao #Holiday fic #well this is more of a warm up but it has another part #Ive just given up the WIPS are running my life #this is brought to you by a local high schools massive holiday bazaar I went too that had cute band kids running around #could not play music though bless them #I did FINALLY get re employed so things are slowing down but Im hoping to post one more chapter of SOMETHING before the end of dec #and probably the other half of this warm up shes short #steven harrington #eddie munson #baking #special appearance by Adopt a Jocks Tiff #Robin pops up in this in the other half #Dustin Henderson #and his scheming #Steve can bake #0o0 fanfics #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #steddie

[undercoverpena]

comfort came against my will

gif credit to @perotovar

joel miller x f!reader summary: it’ll begin with a little beg, a whispered plea—fingers wrapping around his chin, mouth ghosting over his: Let me ride you, Miller.

word count: 1.8k warnings: smut, p in v, jo's spelling and poetic nature. dedication: happy birthday to my friend, @swiftispunk - i know you love Joel, and i hope you love this. special thanks to @perotovar for letting me use their beautiful GIF that inspired half of my imagery, if not all of it.

There’s something about heavy rainfall.

The way it’s cleansing, renewing—almost reinvigorating, depending on when the last time it fell.

Joel found that the only downside is the scent it leaves behind.

Once, a long time ago, it used to leave behind a smell that others wished to bottle—a wish to burn it in candles or hang cheap versions from their car’s centre mirror in haphazardly cut-out trees.

Now, it has an aroma that reminds him of death. A stench which has dug itself into the hairs in his nose, unwilling to let go—clinging, desperate not to be forgotten.

But, you like the rain.

He'll always find you near the window when it pours, eyes tracing the droplets. Your chair purposefully, and with all intentions, pointing to the muck-covered window. Nothing more perfect, you’d murmur—fingers wrapped around one of the crystal glasses the two of you discovered on a run, pressing it to your cheek, off-coloured liquid sloshing as you sigh.

He’s pretty sure he could name a few other things more perfect than rain, but he does find it hard to argue that it isn't the most perfect soundtrack when your thighs are on either side of him.

Especially when the weather is like this. Where a flash of lightning can illuminate you, casting you in a brief spotlight that kisses over your curves and the evidence of your survival.

Tonight, it begins with you draining your glass, turning your head, eyes shimmering as you move from your place, coming to join him on the bed.

Your fingers, both a little rough and soft, wrap around his chin, before a little beg, a whispered plea fills the air—mouth ghosting over his: Let me ride you, Miller.

He couldn’t argue, would never protest. But, your mouth stealing any words he wishes to say. Because he likes having you under him—pinned, close, unable to look anywhere but directly at him. For when you stare, you make everything else pale in comparison. Made the world around mute, it all fading to nought.

You do so with ease, with a single look. One he imagines has always been there, all very much you, even if the state of things has tried to steal it away. He can easily imagine a younger you modelling it, one without the stress lines of living, it all softer, gentler.

Joel doesn’t mind that isn't the case now. He doesn't care for gentle or soft. He likes how sharp you are, that you can cut, wound and make him bleed. He enjoys that, even if he doesn’t deserve anything from you, you stand side-by-side with him, choosing him—wanting and needing, all raised brow with a smirk to match.

If you listen, the rain is telling us something.

You're close to his ear as you mumble it, lips ghosting down his cheek before a clap of thunder steals the phantoms of your whispered echo.

His hands fan over your hips, pushing up one of his tees that you're wearing, sliding it up with his thumbs—feeling how your skin moves, shifts, lengthening over your muscles and bones. His mind busy, occupied, only thinking about how beautiful you are, even when drenched in darkness.

How you’re all untouched except the few scars, the nips and scratches left by those who wished to end you, but found that you weren’t so easy to dispose of.

Joel knows that you’re vicious, all sharp teeth and a menace with a knife many shouldn’t ever want to meet in a dark alley, not that the world has cottoned on. Each try, each fail. He often watches, in awe, pleased, because you're like him. So smooth in the way you're prepared to split someone open, coat your boots in their ichor as the rest of them spill out. Leaving him, often, battling his feelings at the sight.

But while he knows that side of you, Joel also knows the other you.

The one who still believes the rain is romantic. A soul who wishes for a pretty print on a dress, even if you'll only wear it in the four walls of the place you two share. Modelling it for him, dipping your toe into a fantasy with him. You also like the little things, such as a pair of matching glasses, enjoying that they belong together, a metaphor for something you clearly desperately crave.

If he were an honest man, one not ripped to shreds and put together all wrong, he’d tell you you’re a more perfect sight than rain. Not just when you’re sitting on top of him or when you’re under him; not just when you’re panting, venom in your eyes and splattered with cherry-red. But, when you’re just beside him.

Breathing, existing, sleeping.

He’d tell you that you’re an image perfectly cut out of an old version of his happy ever after, slapped down and glued beside him now, even when he’s all tragedy and tragic. That your darkness dances with his faultlessly—making him less alone.

That for you, he’d want to be better, which included letting you go—even if you’re pulling him close—because a man such as him, with hands stained and scarred with horrors, shouldn’t get to touch smeared perfection. That you’re not really poisoned or rotten, just living, fighting—claws digging into the soil, all desperate for another moment.

It’s why he lets you have your fun, and then he flips you under him, palm to your cheek, stare burning into yours.

What’s it tryin’ to tell us? The rain.

You fit him inside of you perfectly—just like you’ve fitted yourself in his space. You’re all knotted around him, heat warm—inviting. Your thighs pressing close, legs crossing behind him, aiding, helping.

Not because you don’t think he’d get you there, but because you’re conscientious, caring—it appears in smaller gestures others wouldn’t notice, but he sees them. Bottles them. Keep them close when you’re not beside him.

Not that he shows it.

Unsure once again, for the billionth time since you stood beside him (and never left), what you see in him—what you think he can give you. Because he’s old, worn, somewhat broken beyond repair—not that it stops you from trying.

“More, Joel. Please.”

You don’t call him pet names, but he hears them in the silence.

They quiver and talk in hushed voices in the kitchen that is covered in grime and not fit for a beauty such as yourself. Some even sprout on his tongue, a fresh seedling, all untouched and unruined—not yet weeded from his throat.

He finds it harder to not let them fall when you sound as pretty as you do. When your nails press half-moons into his skin, leaving a tale of your own in his forearms and biceps, meeting him with everything you have as your walls tighten, delightfully, a match made in hell—because heaven would never allow him. Or you now, he supposes.

It’s why his thumb slides between the two of you, licked with his spit, mixing with the slick against your swollen clit. You gasp, spraying sweetness around the air that's heavy-layered with sex.

He’s forever starving, never quenched—a need for you that runs deeper than mere living and existing. Not ever able to purge you from his system, never wanting to either. Because you’re entangled with him, rooted, anchored inside of him so you can bob along and never go under.

Not that he’d let you.

Joel would never.

His hips punctuate that sentiment. Wanting you to know it, driving them in, so the words don’t go in one ear and out the other. He aims to stamp them in you, fuck them so deep into you you’ll never forget. The sound of skin on skin, groan and grunt, all filling the space, evidence of his determination, swirling around your returning breath, still moaning, murmuring—all scratchy and rough.

“—Let go, Joel. Fill me.”

It rips from him, your name.

Each letter is important, each sound giving the attention it deserves as it coats the air—mouth finding the space between your ear and neck, kissing, teeth nipping.

“Stuff me full.”

The rain hammers heavier, beating its fists against the glass as though it’ll only calm when he does as you’ve asked. As though you and nature are tied together, bonded—the real pairing made in paradise.

It’s then your lips find his, sloppy, messy, all uncoordinated. He can taste the bitterness of your drink on your tongue and the pleasure he’d given you. His mouth lapping it up, licking into yours, tongue far past your teeth as he grips you a little tighter, ruts into you a little deeper—as if hoping there’s more of you to explore, more vastness he can leave a mark on.

It's muffled, but you cut the air with his name as if your tongue is a blade. Your body tightens, mouth ripped from his as you bare your throat, chin lifted, eyes closed as it washes over you and your walls become a vice, hugging his cock in a way no one else ever has.

He's close.

So close.

Another flash, it all bright, exposing the sweat collected on your skin, the path it has made between your breastbone, the way your body looks under him.

Then it’s electric, ripping through him as he stains, writing you’re his all in thick ropes of white—his hips stuttering, slowing, riding it out what it is you do to him. It’s a feeling akin to being folded inside out and then put back again—making his muscles tense and relax, his bones forget they ache, as his throat burns with the force of his exclamation.

It’s minutes, little seconds clumping up until an expanse of time collects, and he’s ready to leave the space between your thighs.

Your eyes on him, all unwavering, mapping his features as though you’re an artist, ready to make him into a sculpture.

He doesn’t tell you to stop, he's learnt his lesson from doing as such—eyes ablaze, full of molten, words sharp as ice, all a twisted juxtaposition as you lay into him all the ways you were, are and am enamoured by him.

He’s sure his list is longer, but he swallowed that, too.

Joel had just nodded, left you angry for half an evening until his arms wrapped around you, and he felt you melt, less lava and more a candle-lit flame licking at him until he took you to bed.

Even if a scrap of time has passed since then, Joel is still no closer to finding himself comfortable with the look—the one he suspects comes with words. Ones you don’t thankfully spill, but ones he would mean just as much if he really asked himself.

It isn’t until you tap him, that he moves. You’re more nimble, quicker on your feet to fetch a rag to clean yourself and then him. Each touch delicate, your stare concentrated before the cloth is cast to some corner—a thing you’ll move and clean tomorrow.

And then, you’re beside him, finding the place you usually choose—all intentional, willingly given—as his arm finds itself around you. A flash of lightning displaying the two of your shadows pressed together, merged in ways the two of your souls are.

Swallowing, he finds your stare is back on the window, the world outside painting its own version of a masterpiece.

“Y’never said what the rain’s telling us.”

You smile, before you lift up your chin, looking at him through your brows. “Just stories. The rain likes to tell stories.”

an: ily, han.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #tlou fanfic #hbo the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfic #joel miller smut #pedrostories

[cinnamostar]

six dates to fall in love

part one. part two (here). part three. part four.

pairing : hyunjin x gn!reader

summary : after a two year long unspoken hatred, hyunjin and you are forced to be costars in a romantic series, but when it comes to filming any of the romance scenes, you both utterly fail and are unable to get through your lines. the director threatens to take your roles away if you two aren't able to get past this within the next week, which spawns the genius idea from both your managers: can you learn to (fake) fall in love in seven dates and save your careers?

wc : 2.3k

cw : actor!au, enemies to lovers ?!, slowburn (?!), cursing, one gorey joke thing, arguing, angsty, they're each other's biggest haters, let me know if i missed anything !!

a/n : this parts shorter unfortunately but i hope u like it! likes, reblogs, and feedback appreciated. pls read part one first if you havent! well. now theres a whole new hurdle for these two to conquer heh... this part is a lot shorter, so sorry for that but i felt like it was best to keep it at this length :o

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“He said what?” Chan asked, shock coloring his voice as you updated him on the night’s events, and how absolutely insufferable Hyunjin was.

“I’m telling you, that guy’s a dickhead,” you mumbled angrily on the phone, shuffling through your apartment as you discarded your outfit and headed into the shower.

Chan took in a deep breath from the other side of the line, “Well, I knew that already, but that was just a new low.” You hummed in agreement, rolling your eyes, “Yeah, whatever. I just have a bad feeling this isn’t going to work out in our favor.”

“You never know, maybe tomorrow will go a lot better, Y/N!” 

You smiled at Chan’s attempts to lighten the mood, “I seriously doubt it, but I will try to put my faith in you and this plan of yours,” you sighed, “Well, I’m going to shower and go to bed, thanks for listening.”

“Always, Y/N. Tomorrow will be better, okay?”

“Right, good night, Chan.”

“Good night!”

God, you could only hope that Chan was right.

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You were definitely having a severe case of deja vu as you sat at your local coffee shop, a pistachio latte in hand as you waited for Hyunjin to arrive for your second date of the week. You both had agreed over text this morning that you’d meet at 12:30pm, but it was nearly 1pm and there was no sign of Hyunjin. Great, you thought to yourself, as it seems like his inconsideration was not limited to just your feelings, but also your time. 

He most definitely was doing this on purpose, there was no way this wasn’t just one of his other tactics to get under your skin before even arriving. Was this how every date was going to be like this entire week? You wasting fifteen to thirty minutes of your life waiting for some conceited asshole to make it, even though he was the one to pick and agree on a time. This was ridiculous, and you couldn’t help but feel peeved as you watched the cafe’s clock tick by, mentally noting how much time had passed at every minute. Maybe it was best to go home, maybe this whole dating thing wasn’t going to work out and it was best to just cut your losses.

Right, going home sounded nice and at least you wouldn’t be losing time on some bumbling idiot. You let out a sharp exhale as you stood up, grabbing your bag and drink to make your way out, but as you turned around, you were met with Hyunjin, who was standing a few feet away from your table with his own drink in hand.

With an eyebrow cocked up, he mockingly cooed, “Aw, you were going to ditch me on our date?”

You rolled your eyes in frustration, an exasperated sigh escaping you as you sluimped back in your seat, motioning Hyunjin to take his seat with a hint of sass in your gestures, “Oh, right, I was the one ditching you, not the other way around.”

“I did not ditch you, I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’re thirty minutes late, Hwang,” you deadpanned.

“Better late than never, no?” he smirked, taking delight in how easy it was to rile you up with such little effort on his end.

You pursed your lips as you glared at the man who sat across from you, a small ‘hmph’ leaving you, “Whatever.”

Much like the day before, the familiar tense atmosphere took its place once more as you both sat quietly in your own seats, occasionally taking a sip of coffee every now and then. Having Hyunjin in your company was torturous, it was almost as if he held you captive in the most miserable week of your life and he made no attempt to make it the least bit enjoyable.

You, once more, decided to remain quiet, allowing Hyunjin to be the one to make any conversation since he seemed to be the one struggling the most with this arrangement. It was best to let him go at his own speed, right? Although that did not stop the displeased look from leaving your features, your eyebrows remained furrowed since the moment you were made aware of his presence.

Hyunjin let out a gentle huff, placing his drink down as he analyzed yor features, “Do you always have this much attitude?”

Rolling your eyes, you responded sternly, “When it comes to you, yes.”

“Right, because I’m the problem,” murmured Hyunjin sarcastically.

“Glad you know.”

Hyunjin bit the inside of his cheek, lost in thought as he tried to figure out the right string of words to say, ones that wouldn’t kindle the already burning heat of hatred you had for him. The silence was unbearably uncomfortable, restricting him of any chance to catch his breath as anxiety and trepidation took over him. He despised this, he hated having to always be on guard around you and it was getting overwhelming, despite it only being the second day of this so-called plan. Hyunjin wasn’t dumb though, while he may be upset with these current circumstances, he would be an idiot to not take advantage of it. His plan was simple, all he had to do was get under your skin as much as he can throughout this week in hopes you’d decide to drop out of the project altogether, which would mean he would no longer have to worry about getting kicked off the shoot if they only had to replace you, he thought.

Unfortunately, you were as hard-headed as a bull, bulldozing over any hope Hyunjin had as your stubbornness made itself apparent through your countless attempts to speak to him last night. Though, something had to be working, he thought, as you reached a standstill of quietness in the middle of this bustling coffee shop. 

The coffee shop was brimming with life, fellow patrons laughing with their company and baristas shouting out names to orders as the espresso machines and blenders whirred in the background. It was a relaxing, welcoming, and cozy environment which sharply juxtaposed the energy emanating off you and Hyunjin. If anything, you and Hyunjin would be more fitting standing outside in the cold, icy, and piercing winter winds as you exchanged hardened gazes, neither wavering from their stance. Anyone who stepped within a three foot radius of you both would feel instant chills due to the intensity of the situation, yet, everyone was too absorbed in their own world to pay attention to the mental battle you and Hyunjin were engaged in. 

“What did I ever do to you?”

The sudden question surprised Hyunjin, effectively drawing him out of his stupor as his gaze softened at the vulnerability in your tone and the slight quiver to your voice, though your features remained in the permanent scowl that seemed to falter ever-so slightly. This was new, this was something Hyunjin had never seen from you before and it made his heart ache to hear the confusion and uncertainty reverberate from your words. This show of weakness from you should be something he celebrates though, this means his attempts to push you away from this project had to be working, yet why did he feel so guilty? Why did he feel his stomach drop slightly when he heard you tremble over your words? Moreso, why were you asking him that?

Hyunjin’s face contorted with perplexity, “You’re seriously asking that?”

Your frown changed into one of curiosity, not entirely understanding what Hyunjin meant by his question, “... What?” 

Hyunjin could only return your confused gaze, your cluelessness only seemed to light a fire under him as fury began to settle in his eyes, “You’re joking, right?”

Taken aback, your mouth struggled to form any words as your brain tried to rack through your memories, searching for a moment in time that you could’ve upset or hurt Hyunjin back then, but there was nothing. You were drawing a blank and could only wonder what you could’ve possibly done to cause this kind of rage in Hyunjin. You spoke cautiously, afraid the wrong words could escalate the situation as you desperately did not want to call attention to you two, “I’m sorry… I don’t… know what you’re talking about.”

Hyunjin could only wear a baffled look in his face, scanning your eyes to only find you were being truthful, no sign of deceit and you were not feigning ignorance, you were genuinely lost at his sudden outburst. He couldn’t believe it, had his version of reality been entirely false this whole time? Up to this point, he had scrutinized you as a villain, one of the worst in the industry, yet the thread that held this belief was quickly unraveling as he took in the innocence your eyes conveyed, a silent plea for him to not doubt your honesty.

“Weren’t you the one…” Hyunjin questioned, uncertainty in his voice, “Didn’t you sabotage me from getting that role on Director Han’s project?”

“Huh?” 

That was all you could muster out, your jaw dropping at the sudden accusation, “What the fuck are you talking about, Hwang?”

“I saw you talking to him on the set of your first film project together! Just a few days after my audition,” he spoke firmly, doing his best to remain steadfast in his perception of events.

“Yes, I did speak to him. In fact, Hyunjin,” you spat his name out, anger burning in your eyes as you tried to keep your voice down, “I was telling him how much of a joy you were to work with and was recommending him to cast you.”

“You’re lying.”

You stood up suddenly from your seat, hands flat against the table, refusing to listen to Hyunjin’s fictitious words and accusations as you felt yourself ready to explode, struggling to keep the heated discontentment you felt contained. Has this really been the reason why Hyunjin had been so cruel to you all these years? Over some dumb hunch that had no weight to it, no proof other than it being a convenient explanation? Was it simply easier for him to frame you rather than accept someone with more talent landed the role? It took everything within you not to slap Hyunjin across the face as you seethed in your rage, trying to make sense of everything that had occurred since that time. 

Of course, missing out on the role was absolutely heartbreaking for Hyunjin, as that film ended up being a blockbuster success and would’ve launched his acting career in a way so many could only dream of. Though, it absolutely wasn’t your fault that the director decided to cast a more experienced and already established actor, one whose name alone would’ve bought the film instant success.

“Right, I am so lying. Because there’s absolutely no way in hell they decided to cast someone who was just a better actor, right? It’s all my fault because of course, the great Hwang Hyunjin could never be a failure.”

Your eyes narrowed at him, studying his reaction as he remained frozen in his seat, a conflicted expression on his face as he tried to process your words. However, Hyunjin was a deeply insecure individual, one who needed constant praise to feel any bit of confidence in his ability to perform and he was quick to become defensive when it came to facing failure. Perhaps that is why he was so sure to blame you without second thought, someone who was such a stark polar opposite from him, someone who had all the confidence of the world in themselves, someone he absolutely envied and grew to hate over some theory he piped up to cope with his own shortcomings. 

You scoffed at his lack of response, muttering, “Unbelievable.”

Yet, you cannot expect someone to just back down from their version of events that they upheld as truth for so long. He had spent two years believing this, and how could he ever be so sure that you weren’t just lying to him in his face? What if you were just trying to maintain your image through lies? Though, something about the expression you wore told him that was not possible, but his own selfishness refused to let him fully accept that. 

“I don’t believe you,” was all Hyunjin could say, stubbornly holding onto the reality he had unknowingly fabricated as he did his best to ignore the hurt in your eyes.

“Why would I lie to you about that? Why would I have ever done that to you?” you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes as your frustration was finally getting the best of you. 

Finally uncovering the truth behind Hyunjin’s hatred towards you was not as satisfying or relieving as you had always imagined it to be. The growing indignation you felt was overwhelming, you were losing control of your own body and emotions, control slipping between your fingers like grains of sand as another wave of emotions began to make itself known. It pained you to know Hyunjin had thought so poorly of you for so long, your heart aching at the thought of him thinking you’d do something so terrible to him. 

The molten lava of anger that flowed through your veins finally met the cool, tumultuous sadness your heart took on, turning into stone as the emotions fought with one another for dominance, but the heavy weight of cobble filled in the cracks of your resolve and urged you to maintain your composure. 

You shook your head at Hyunjin, who still remained still in his seat, and without a word, you turned to leave the coffee shop, abandoning this stupid date idea your manager had conjured up from whatever demented reasonings he had. Maybe you should have left earlier, maybe it was best to cut your losses and accept defeat. All you had now was an unquenchable amount of anger that no amount of water would ever be able to fully put out, and this only intensified your dislike for Hyunjin.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

taglist: @kopikokrunch @icouldntcareless22 @kidrauhlschik @hhwangsmoon

**taglist will be closed at twenty users

#cinnamostar writes #skz #skz angst #skz fanfic #skz x reader #stray kids #fanfic #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #skz hyunjin #skz imagines #stray kids x reader #skz x you #stray kids x you

[cranberryjuice-posts]

I saw your story about the blind reader and I thought one where the reader is deaf this time? I like the drama but if you prefer it could just be something with anguish and a happy ending

YIPPEE‼️‼️

To be nothing with you

Pairings - Clarisse La rue x Fem! Daughter of Hecate! Deaf! Reader

An - am I writing this with reader being a Hecate kid bc I’m a Hecate kid yes and I will admit it every time 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

An pt2 - sign Language isn’t communicated in full complete sentences so like “are you going to the doctors tomorrow” would be like “you, doctors, tomorrow?” But with certian words like “You” or “can” you could always spell out if it’s necessary, So that’s how I’m gonna be writing (I have immediate Family who’s deaf so I understand a lot Abt sign language)

The breakup was for a good reason. You both just weren’t compatible. If that was the case how did you two always find yourselves drawn to eachother.

A perfect example would be tonight. You were sitting on the shore of the lake just taking in the scenery when you felt a familiar presence.

You looked to the side, finding the beautiful daughter of Ares beside you.

Clarisse made a few hand movements which you knew was sign language, she was asking ‘hearing aids?’. You nodded with a small smile, you always appreciated how she spent the time to learn sign language to communicate with you.

“Hey” clarisse leaned back on her hands.

“Hey?” You chuckled tilting your head in response. You had gone deaf a few years ago after an accident, being able to still hear with hearing aids was a blessing but without them you couldn’t hear a thing. “So.. what does the camp mean girl want with me hm? Trying to find a new kid to pick on” you teased lightly

Clarisse Rolled her eyes. “Yeah i came to bully one of the few Hecate kids in camp who I know damn well could curse me, I may be dumb—“

“You said it not me”

She gently shoved you making you laugh. “As i was saying, i May be dumb but I’m not that dumb— gods has anyone told you how annoying you are” she chuckled along side you.

“Yeah I’ve been informed” You grinned at her. It was nice with things like this, you knew clarisse always acted different around you which you didn’t mind. “So? What did you want”

Clarisse shrugged her shoulders “just wanted to see you”

There was a moment of silence, something you had grown to live with, the only sound near was the crashing of waves on the shore.

When you both were together, it hurt. Clarisse putting her pride before you, though you weren’t entirely innocent, any Time You argued you would take your hearing aids out for an entire day just to not talk to her.

You found yourself reaching out to clarisse, her following in suit. Your faces were close to the point you could feel her breath on your skin. You looked up at her soft brown eyes, it was like a silent agreement between you two.

She closed the gap by softly kissing you. Clarisse slid her hands down your waist and to your hips while gently grabbing your thighs. You found your hands trailing up her toned Arms and to her curly hair, locking your fingers in the hair while rubbing loving circles on her cheek.

It was always like this. You two would have a minute conversation before finding yourself making out with her.

You pulled away breathless from the kiss. clarisse shifted some before bringing her free hand up, softly tracing your lips. “You know.. your lips have always been the softest.” She admitted quietly. “Σ'αγαπώ” she whispered.

You closed your eyes not able to say the same, you knew If you did it would end badly just like last time. You sat up kissing her forehead. “See you soon ok”

You had done the math multiple times, but there was no solution. You two would never last.. if that was true then why did you feel like this

——

16 days.

That’s how many days you two avoided eachother.

Silena had confronted clarisse trying to tell her to talk to you but she couldn’t. Even when you showed up in her dreams she just couldn’t. She knew you loved her and herself on multiple occasions has been reminded how much she loves you.

But you just couldn’t work.

She promised herself that she wouldn’t put you through the hell of your relationship again, but now clarisse found herself breaking said Promise while standing in-front of the Hermes cabin thinking of a way to get your attention.

——

You were laying in your bed just looking up at the ceiling not being able to sleep. From the moonlight outside you saw a shadow moving at the window.

You walked over rubbing your eyes, once at the wall you saw clarisse standing outside. You opened the window and leaned out signing ‘grab hearing aids wait’.

She shook her head signing ‘no, wait’

You stopped confused you watched as the girl continued to sign, you smiled as it wasn’t the best and she messed up frequently but it was cute none the less.

‘We are not good together’ she started, you rolled your eyes and signed back ‘W O W, great start’

She gave you a sharp look before continuing ‘I love you, so please can we make it work’ clarisses face was calm, sweet and soft but you.. she knew the answer by your lack of movement.

‘No’ is all you signed back.. after a few moments you returned back to the windowsill with your hearing aids now in. “Clarisse we both know you won’t put me before trying to prove to your father that your the best”

“That’s—“

“The truth.” Your tone was flat. “We broke up for a reason, and we’re staying that way,.. go to your cabin, it’s late” you stepped back to close the window. She grabbed your hand stopping you. “Please.. it hurt when we were something but it’s worse to be nothing with you”

You softly took clarisses hand, kissing her scarred knuckles before pushing her hand out. “I’ll see you soon..”

You loved the daughter of ares and her the same to you. But you both loved other things before each-other.

——

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse my beloved #butch clarisse #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you #clarisse larue #clarisse x reader #percy jackson show #pjo show #pjo fanfic #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson

[saintescuderia]

antinal

(written as a coping mechanism for the fact that carlos is sick and might not make jeddah)

also note: this is part of a larger series that you can read here :)

“Please tell me what you were thinking.” 

You walked into the room to see the Spanish driver sat on the bed, rubbing his eyes from the nap you had just woken up him from. Good. You had seen his Instagram story and the bragging of the 50km bike ride around Jeddah. With the Ferrari contract coming to an end, Onoro was working overtime. Carlos’ schedule was now jam packed with all these PR moments, both official in having meetings and dinners, and unofficial and his Instagram was now becoming his CV. 

Case in point, let me show off my athleticism. 

“I wanted to go for a bike ride.” Carlos said simply. His ran a hand through his bed hair, wild from his nap, and then his eye adjusted to you. “Don’t dump your bag there.”

“Then don’t keep your shoes here.” You retorted as, of course, his shoes were right by the door. You two had often argued about it, him haphazardly taking them off as he walked into the hotel and you tripping over them and then nagging him about it as you kicked them to the side. As now, you nagged at him and kicked the white sneakers out of your path. 

However, in doing so, you stopped and bent down to pick up the shoes. You looked at him and then back at the shoe with the Nike swish. A surprised smile found its way on your face, distracting you from the issue at hand. 

“You went out in dunks?” 

“You bought them for me to wear.” He said as if it were obvious. “Girlfriend affect.” He waved a dismissive hand in the air and you couldn’t help but smile at how cute that was. For a second, the whole thing disarmed you and made your forget why you had rushed to the hotel room in a huff. 

Then Carlos reached for some pills on his bedside table and it all came rushing back. 

It wasn’t like you disagreed with all the extra stuff Onoro had his cousin do. Carlos needed to start working now if he wanted to find another seat for next year. You all agreed to it. What you didn’t agree to was Carlos taking stupid risks with his training and doing stuff like a 50km bike ride in Saudi Arabian weather without you. The heat stroke alone was enough to knock him out and prevent him from actually racing that weekend. 

Case in point, right now. 

“Alright kids I gotta get to work, if I don’t input those numbers… doesn’t make much of difference.”

You snorted, immediately tuning into the iconic voice of one Chandler Bing. You look to where the TV was playing one of the earlier season of FRIENDS, the cast looking especially younger. You looked back at Carlos and frowned, eyeing him suspiciously. 

“What? You always say I should watch it.” He said. 

It wasn’t that Carlos was watching FRIENDS. It was the fact that he was in bed watching FRIENDS. If there ever was someone more pedantic about sleep hygiene, it was him. If he had just woken up from a nap, it wasn’t planned. Suddenly, your worry about his wellbeing overtook your anger. 

“How are you feeling?” You asked as you came to sit on the edge of the bed he was still reclined in. You brought a hand to his forehead and noted his temperature. Nothing alarming. Though, he was shirtless and the AC was on. You also noted the green gel of aloe vera he had likely stolen from your own suitcase. At least he was taking care of himself. 

“Better now that you’re here.” He said and reached up to bring the hand that was feeling his forehead to bring it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to your fingers. You rolled your eyes but still couldn’t help but smile. 

“You’re not going to get out of this.”

“Out of what?”

“Carlos, I saw your story.” You said. 

“One second mi amor.” Carlos flipped the bed sheets back and then climbed out of bed. He rushed to the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him. You stared at him confusedly as suddenly there was music playing from inside the bathroom. You were really at a loss with this one. Especially since you recognised the song and wondered since when your boyfriend willingly listened to Metro Boomin? 

Carlos was particular about his bathroom time and if he was playing music, you could only assume he wasn’t in there just to take a piss. Evidently he was going to be in there for a while and that meant you would have to occupy yourself until then. 

There was a coffee machine at the small kitchenette that was calling your name. You had woken up earlier than usual to help Oscar through some drills before the race weekend and the need for caffeine was all too real. As you popped the pod into the Nespresso machine, you realised the spread of half-eaten food Carlos had likely ordered - and dumped into the kitchen sink. 

You knew his diet well since you had been the one to essentially create it. It had been a painstaking process to carefully craft a regime that allowed Carlos to hit his protein goals - and indulge in his love for food. Because man, did Carlos love food. He had pretty much wept at the sight of you poached chicken breast all those many months ago. Since the relationship between the two of you had shifted on from the strictly business of a trainer-driver relationship to becoming a fully fledged romantic couple, Carlos had taken you out to countless restaurants. He had a list in his Notes app of all his favourite restaurants, bars and cafes all around the world and had decided to take you to every one come a Grand Prix weekend.  

You thought it was stupid since he needed to work but one could never be mad at those eyes. It was how he managed to get you to let him eat all that he did. 

So to see that Carlos Sainz, the Spanish foodie Carlos Sainz, had ordered a lunch of plain fruits and plain toast— you were immediately confused. Suspicious even. Carlos eating plain toast was… unfathomable. 

You made your coffee and opted to just wait until Carlos could explain his choice of breakfast. The way you saw it was that he was restricting himself with such low calorie foods in the hope of shedding weight and hopefully then bettering his race. 

The coffee had finished pouring and you huffed as you picked up the cup and went to sit on the bed. 

“I can’t stop smiling.”

“I can see that. It’s like you slept with a hanger in your mouth.”

Sitting on the bed, you blew on your coffee and tried to focus on Rachel and Monica on the TV - and not how Carlos was currently his own worse enemy. It was no use to tell him off now. Reyes had told you how the Junior was like the Senior in the toilet being a sacred space. You don’t bother Carlos on the toilet. 

You had done that once and it was the only time Carlos had ever snapped at you. 

Something buzzed in your pocket. It was likely Oscar asking about lunch and so you went to set the coffee on the bedside table to free up your hands and respond - when you saw it. 

You recognised the Ferrari water bottle with the personalised 55 decoration. 

You also recognised the Antinal box of pills that were half opened beside it. 

Oh. 

Suddenly all the puzzle pieces clicked into place. The plain foods, the lack of forewarning as he jumped to the toilet, the impromptu nap. Carlos wasn’t unfit for Jeddah because he was overworking himself, Carlos was unfit for Jeddah because he had diarrhoea.  

Looking down at the familiar bottle of pills, your only question now was how in the fuck Carlos knew to take it. Sure, Antinal would’ve been your go to if you were hit with gastro or food poisoning or whatever it was that was now plaguing your boyfriend. Your auntie used to have a hoarded stock of the medication in her cupboard above the microwave. You swore that the stuff was magic. It was better than any of the medication you had found in the US or UK. Though, how Carlos had managed to get hold of Egyptian diarrhoea medication was beyond you. 

You looked back at the white dunks by the door and remembered how while you had been training with your brother, your boyfriend had been doing some PR for Saudi Arabia and touring the local streets. 

The door finally opened and out came Carlos, patting his stomach. You said nothing as he came to sit on the bed beside you, not questioning how you took his side. He wordlessly climbed back under the covers and you felt all the anger, all the worry wash out of you. All you felt now was genuine fondness for the sick boy beside you. 

“You tried the local food without me.”

It was a statement but Carlos still curled up beside you and mumbled an affirmative “Yes.” to your side. Your arm came up to wrap around him and start playing with his hair. 

“How the fuck did you find Antinal?”

“I asked Oscar.” 

“Oh, habibi.” You couldn’t help but croon as you had to imagine Carlos going to your brother, someone he admittedly didn’t get along with all too well and asking for help because he had stomach problems. Still, you knew Oscar wouldn’t have said anything or made jokes. No matter his feelings towards Carlos, Oscar wasn't like that. Besides, you had taught the young driver enough.

For example, to always have gastro medication. No matter what. 

Carlos didn’t saying anything and you didn’t feel the need to add anything. Instead, you slowly got up from sitting on top of the covers and came to slide yourself underneath them. You brought your arm back around Carlos and resumed your comforting massage as he rested beside you, eyes closed. You, however, were sipping on your coffee, half your attention on the 90s sitcom currently playing - “I can’t believe you didn’t know it was a line!” - and the blue and grey text bubbles between you and the driver you considered your little brother.

Oscar was now asking if dinner was an option since lunch was evidently now forgone that Carlos was asleep next to you. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Or so you thought was asleep. You blinked, looking down at the boyfriend you thought had drifted off again. 

“For what?” You said, dropping your phone and sliding down to bring your face to his. You lightly traced his face and saw the way his frown between his brows eased, his lips lifted slightly. 

“Ricciardo made a joke about my contract in front of Lewis. It’s why I went out for that bike ride and posted about it.” He admitted. You bit back any of the words that immediately came to mind and how you wanted to rip into the stupidity of letting someone like Daniel Ricciardo getting to him. Sure, there was some clear bad blood but you really had hoped Carlos wouldn’t have let it get to him. Danny was just a scorned ex after all.

“If anything, I should be mad that you went to explore restaurants without me." You said lightly. "What happened to us having one couple date a weekend?”

Carlos’ eyes blinked open at that as his smile grew. You felt warmth inside you bloom seeing that beautiful, beautiful smile of his. Your phone buzzed again and you turned over to pick it up and read the message from Oscar. You snorted. 

“What?” Carlos asked. 

“Oscar says he hopes you feel better.” 

“That’s nice of him.” Carlos said, sitting up slightly to reach over you and go for his water bottle. This made you sit up also and now you both had your backs to the headboard, sitting up in the bed. 

“I think he just wants you to race so he can get payback for Spa last year.” You said. Oscar’s next text thread confirmed this and you chuckled and went to pick up your coffee to take a sip. Carlos shook his head and went back to lay his head on the pillow. 

“When does this kick in?”

“The antinal?” You asked, grinning as you still couldn’t believe Carlos Sainz was using your Middle Eastern auntie’s magical cure for anything stomach related. “Maybe an hour after taking it, depending on how bad it is.” Carlos frowned and closed his eyes, shifting a lot as he tried to get comfortable back in the bed. Your grin fell slightly and you brought your hand back to his hair. 

“Sleep it off, habibi.”

“What are you going to do?” 

“Watch FRIENDS.” You said with a shrug. 

“I was supposed to watch it.”

“Not my fault.” You sassed back. “I’ll rewatch it with you again later. You just work on fixing your stomach and I’ll read through race strategies and debrief you later in case you can race.” You paused and took a sip of your coffee. “I also need to convince Lando to come to dinner.”

“Why?”

“Since you and I haven’t had dinner and I was supposed to be with Oscar for lunch but I’m here with you.” You explained. "He's wanting dinner plans."

“He saw you all of yesterday and this morning.” 

Carlos' complaints made you smile. “We’ll go out us four. You two can bond again.”

He only huffed. “When have we ever bonded?”

“When you got over yourself and asked him for antinal because you wouldn’t stop shitting?”

Carlos’ response was to reach his hand up and flick you on the nose. 

#Carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #scuderia ferrari #ferrari formula one #ferrari formula 1 #f1 #Charles Leclerc #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 x oc #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #saintescuderia #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x y/n #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charlesleclerc #carlossainz #formula one #charles leclerc x you #Oscar piastri

[riordanness]

pretty things - [c.fisher]

wordcount: 2.2K

requested: no

warnings: sa mentioned; bad parents; reader has ptsd

I was curled up in the foetal position on my bed, wrapped around my covers. Tears stained my cheeks, and my hair was messy and bedraggled. I hadn’t moved all day, not even to eat or go to the bathroom. I felt like an empty hole of guilt and pain and horror.

There was a knock on my bedroom door. I had no energy to even answer, so I just waited. I was pretty sure who it was, and I knew he’d let himself in. He always did.

My door creaked three times as he slowly pushed it open, trying to be quiet. “y/n?” Conrad whispered. “Are you sleeping?”

My back was to him. I didn’t look at Conrad at all, but I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak yet.

“It’s getting late. My mum and Laurel are getting worried about you. Are you sick?”

Again, I just shook my head.

I heard his footsteps on my floorboards. They creaked too. Conrad came around to the side of the bed I was facing. He gently sat down on the edge of the mattress. I felt it sink slightly with his weight.

“y/n?” His voice was still really quiet and soft. “Are you… okay?”

I wiped my face with my fingers, trying to figure out what to say. Obviously not the truth. Anything but it. “Um, I’m fine. Just really tired from the party last night…”

My voice was croaky from crying all day. I swallowed nervously, wishing I had water to mask the pain in my voice.

“What’s wrong?” Conrad asked, his tone hardening a little.

“Nothing,” I lied. “I’m fine.”

“y/n.” The way he said my name made me shiver with both delight and worried anticipation. “You’re clearly not okay. You never sleep in after eight in the summer. You always go to the beach first thing. It’s nearly four pm. You haven’t been seen since the party last night. What’s wrong?”

The fact that he’d memorised all that about me made me fall even deeper in love with him, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell him what had happened. It was all my own fault anyway.

I pushed myself to a sitting position. I tried to drag my fingers through my matted hair, but it was useless. I needed a brush to fix that mess. I wiped my face again, just in case it helped hide the tear stains. I blinked a couple times, then licked my lips, finally meeting Conrad’s eyes.

“Please, y/n,” he begged. He moved his hand to cover mine. I glanced down at it, then back up at him, and his gorgeous blue eyes, pleading with me.

I shook my head. “I… I can’t. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Conrad looked disappointed, but he didn’t argue. He never did with me. “Okay. If you’re sure you’re alright. Do you want to go swimming with me?”

I hesitated. “Alright.”

“Okay.” He smiled. “Meet you downstairs in ten.”

Conrad was waiting for me at the front door, dressed in his dark blue swimming shorts, with a dark blue towel thrown over his shoulder. His eyes lit up when he saw me.

I’d run a brush through my tangles, changed into my usual white swimsuit with the tiny dark blue stars all over it, and grabbed my matching white towel.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, Conrad gazed at me for a moment. I felt strangely comfortable with him looking at me. Even with all that had happened last night. I knew I could never feel uncomfortable with Conrad. He wouldn’t ever do anything to make me feel like I wasn’t safe.

I shook my head, wishing those thoughts away. I didn’t want to think of last night. I only wanted to think of now, and of Conrad, and of swimming at the beach. Even though that was where it happened…

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Conrad’s voice brought me back to the present.

“Mhm,” I said quickly. “Let’s go and swim.”

Conrad smiled. “Yeah, let’s.”

On the way outside, passing the Fisher’s pool, I had second thoughts. “Hey, actually, can we swim in the pool this time?”

Conrad stopped and looked at me, confused. “But you adore the beach. You always have.”

“I know,” I said, feeling fidgety all of a sudden. I shifted my weight from foot to foot. “Just please? Can we?”

He relented. “Course.”

I dropped my towel and instantly dove into the water, letting it surround me in its familiar, comforting embrace. The water was my home, my heart, my special place. I always felt safe in the water. I stayed under for as long as I could hold my breath, before finally bursting back up above the surface.

Conrad was sitting at the edge of the pool, his feet in the water. Watching me.

I pushed my hair back, treading water. Watching him right back. His eyes reminded me of glass. Blue sometimes, but shattered and colourful and reflective too.

“What are you thinking about?” Conrad asked.

I hesitated. “The ocean.”

“So why are we in the pool, then, missy?”

I took a moment to answer. “Well, I’m in the pool. You’re just staring at me.”

“Am I not allowed to stare at pretty things?”

I blushed. I was used to Jeremiah and his flirtatious ways, but Conrad? Compliments and Conrad never went together.

“Umm…”

“Don’t answer that,” he decided. “Forget it.” He stood, and dove. For a split second, it was almost like he was suspended in the air, and then, I was sprayed with water. Conrad came up almost right away, not staying under like I always do.

He rose above the water right next to me, breathing through his mouth. Ugh, stop thinking about his mouth, I thought desperately. Stop being so in love with him, it’s getting pathetic.

“y/n.”

“Hmm?” I focused on him.

“You aren’t okay,” he said.

I opened my mouth to argue. Conrad held up a hand. “I know, you keep saying you are totally fine. But I know you, y/n, and I know you aren’t okay today. But I know that you will tell me what’s wrong if you want to, so I won’t push you. Just know that I’m here, okay?”

His blue eyes looked very blue right now. They were staring into mine, threatening to pull out all my secrets. I blinked. “I know. Thank you, Con.”

I hadn’t called him Con in a long time. It startled him, I could tell, but he smiled a little, backing away from me in the water. “Come on, let’s race.”

I allowed myself a dry smile. “You and your racing. You boys all just love to win, don’t you?” I rolled my eyes playfully. “Competitive boys.”

Conrad splashed me with water. “Hey, you’re one to talk. You’re the most competitive person I know.”

I pretended like I was offended. “Please. I am not competitive. I just like to win. At everything. All the time.” I hesitated. “Okay, maybe I am a little competitive. But I grew up living as the ‘little girl’ with you and Jere and Steven! Can you blame me?”

Conrad laughed. “Okay. Maybe you’ve got a point.”

“See?”

“But …” He smirked. “I do remember this one time —”

“Shut up!” I gasped. “You know you weren’t supposed to know that!” I swam over to him, hitting him lightly on the arm.

“Ow!” Conrad rubbed his forearm, frowning at me. Suddenly, all I could think of was how cute he looked when he was faking being mad, his brow creasing.

“Don’t be a baby,” I said, flustered by my own thoughts. “Don’t you even bring that up again.”

“Aww, c’mon, y/n,” he whined, which was also really cute. I hated how much I was in love with this boy. It almost hurt, because I knew he would never be mine.

“It was cute.” Conrad said, tapping my nose.

I swallowed, trying to keep my breathing normal. “You think it was cute?” My voice sounded small and delicate, like glass, like whatever he said in return might shatter it.

“Umm…” Conrad looked embarrassed. “Well, I mean. I guess so, uh, because you were just trying so hard to, umm…” He trailed off, not looking at me.

I rubbed my leg against the other, staring at him while I had the chance, staying quiet. I didn’t know what to say.

“Sorry,” I blurted. “You’re allowed to bring that up. I’m being ridiculous. Ignore me.”

Conrad met my eyes, his blue one piercing into mine. “What? No. You don’t have to apologise for anything, y/n.” Worry flashed in his expression, but he didn’t say anything.

I looked down at the water in front of me, slowly kicking my legs. I chewed my lip. “No. Just — whatever. It’s whatever.” I waved my hand. “It honestly doesn’t even matter. I was just a stupid little kid.”

“Hey,” Conrad reached for my hand, giving it a squeeze. “You have never been stupid.”

I met his gaze again. I felt so incredibly seen and safe with Conrad. How could I not? I love you, I wanted to say, so, so badly, but I just couldn’t make myself. It wasn’t for me to say.

Conrad seemed to understand without me having to say it. “Come here,” he said, and pulled me into a tight hug. I wrapped my legs around his waist, burying my face in his neck, finally letting my tears go. I clung to him and cried out all my emotions.

Fear, horror, pain from last night.

Distress, anxiety, misery from today.

Love, joy, safety from my Conrad.

“y/n, please tell me what’s going on.”

I shook my head. “Con, I can’t. I can’t tell you. It-it’s too bad.”

He gently pulled me off him, looking intently into my face. “y/n. You are not alright. And you’re not alone. I’m right here. I won’t tell a soul what you tell me. But you need to tell someone what’s going on. And… I’d like it to be me.”

I didn’t want to tell anyone. I wanted to bury last night deep inside me and never think about it again. But I knew he was right. Otherwise, it would fester deep in my chest, burning and killing me from my middle to my outside.

I took a deep breath. “Okay. Um.” I had no idea where to start. “Last night, my parents were fighting. With each other, and with-with me. They were blaming me for all their problems, and calling me all these awful names and telling me I was useless to them and that they wished they’d never had me as a daughter, and I, I got really angry, I told them fine. I was gonna leave and never come back if that’s how they felt about me. So they kicked me out.”

I had been trying to keep my emotions in check, but I was sobbing now. “And then, I was walking down the beach on the way to your house when this guy—“ My voice faltered. “He… he grabbed me and tried to kiss me and touch me but I kicked him and ran. I ran all the way to your house.”

“That’s why you turned up so late and flustered.”

I nodded, wiping furiously at my tears. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t—“

Conrad wrapped me so tightly in his arms I couldn’t even finish my sentence.

“If you ever—“ Conrad’s voice was harsh and angry. “ever say sorry for something like this again, I will kill you. Don’t you dare be sorry.”

I wrapped my arms around him, holding tightly to him. His arms were solid and warm around my waist.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” Conrad said roughly into my shoulder, and I realised with a start that he was crying. Not as badly as me, granted, but tears were glistening in his eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me right away?” he begged, his voice ragged. He gripped my shoulders, staring at me.

I couldn’t meet his eyes. “I didn’t want to bother you with my drama.” I traced my fingertip against the top of the water, making a ripple.

“y/n, I will never be bothered by anything you have to say.” Conrad looked more serious than I’d ever seen him. And for Conrad, that was saying something. “I just… I’m so sorry. Are you alright? Did that guy hurt you? Do you know who he was, or what he looked like? And, if you don’t want to go back to your parents, or you can’t, you know you’re welcome here as long as you need.”

I nodded slowly. “He didn’t really do anything. It just terrified me. I think I did more damage to him than he did to me. Especially since he just scared me and I kicked him in his sensitive place.”

Conrad managed to laugh. “That’s my y/n.”

My chest grew uncontrollably warm at his remark. “Um, and yeah. I don’t think I’ll be able to go back home for a while.”

“Well,” Conrad grabbed and squeezed my hand again. “You know you’ve got a home here, with us.”

“Thanks, Con.” I gave him a small smile, which he returned.

#conrad fisher #tsitp #conrad fisher x reader #chris briney #the summer i turned pretty #fanfic #conrad fisher fanfic #tsitp fanfic #tsitp x reader

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

Dave York x OC/Reader (TPATD universe) Seeking Comfort.

This blog is a 18+ space, Minors, do not engage. If you are under the age of 18 you are not welcome here. Your reading and consumption of my work is your responsibility but I will endeavour to mitigate any discomfort for you, the reader, as possible. Once again, this is a 18+ space and minors should not interact.  Specific Warnings: Cock warming, mentions of Dave's job(hitman), longing/yearnig, established relationship, PiV sex, unprotected sex (be responsible wrap it up).

Thanks again to @angelofsmalldeath-codeine and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for taking a quick look over this one. I got inspired by @creedslove's Post Here for this one. I just became obsessed. Thank you for this inspo. 2000~ Words [Read on Ao3]

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Dave slumps against the front door, suitcase falling with a dull thud against the wooden floorboards as he finally lets out a sigh of relief.

Every time he crosses the threshold into his home – your home – calm begins to settle over him like a warm, weighted blanket. It leeches the cold emptiness from his bones, brings him back to himself, to you.

But he can’t fight off the phantom blood on his hands, the constricting guilt of what he does. He forces himself to get up, pushing off the door with a groan as he shrugs off his coat. He toes off his loafers too, setting both of them on the shoe rack before hanging up his coat.

Practiced, simple, movements that help him ground himself.

“Baby?” He calls out but you don’t respond, “I’m home?”

A pang of fear cuts through his gut like a knife as he strides into the kitchen, eyes frantic as he searches for you. His panic is short lived as he sees you, your back turned to him as you’re hunched over an inordinate number of papers splayed across the breakfast counter.

Dave smiles to himself as his heart rate slows. He pads up behind you slowly and places his hands either side of you. His thick fingers gripping the countertop as he rests his head on your shoulder. He spots the headphones stuck in your ears and tuts.

“Hey, baby,” you grumble as you pull the earbuds out, “You’re home late.”

“And you’re up late,” he counters as he presses his strong nose behind your ear, his plush lips raking over your skin.

“Couldn’t sleep, got court on Monday and I’m not sure I can win this case for her.”

“How long have you been banging your head against the wall, baby?”

You groan as you’re forced to face that reality yourself. The clock on the oven blinks smugly at you, red numbers mocking you as you realise it’s gone two in the morning. You had completely lost track of time.

“Shit, I don’t know,” you groan as you lean back against Dave’s broad chest, humming softly as he sucks gently at your skin. His eyes are already closed as he breathes you in.

“Come on, bedroom,” his voice is barely a whisper as he issues the command.

“But, Dave, I need to get this-,” you start but Dave’s eyes flick open, and he gives you a look you know all too well. It tells you that there’s no arguing with him. But you don’t mind, you’re all too willing to follow his command.

“Fine, but I need to be up early.”

Dave hums in agreement as he nips at the column of your neck before stepping around to your side, holding his hand out for you. You gladly take it, and he pulls you into a tight embrace, his strong arms wrapping around you, fusing you to him as he kisses the top of your head.

Once he’s ready to move he scoops you up in his arms, bridal style, before ascending the stairs to your bedroom. You cling to him, hands fisted in his shirt as you try to get as close as you can. You know he’s carrying something especially bad this time, he’s trembling by the time he sets you down on the bed.

“Clothes.”

You nod, knowing that he prefers to keep things short, efficient, when he’s come back from a job. You strip in front of one another, and you let your eyes linger on his cock. It curves up a little, his tip covered by his foreskin, but you know that he’s leaking by how hard he is. His lips are curved up into an amused smirk when he catches you staring. He silently sits on the base of the bed and spreads his legs wide, welcoming you with a silent command.

You slot yourself between his legs, hands on his shoulders as you bend down to kiss him slowly. His hands slide up the backs of your thighs, his callouses pulling and catching delightfully on your skin. You shudder at the sensation, running your tongue along the seam of his mouth. He lets you in, his tongue dancing with yours as you groan into his mouth.

His firm hands lift you up, careful not to break the kiss as he sits you on his lap. You can feel the heft of his cock between your bodies as he holds you close, unmoving for a while. You’re dripping already, the anticipation for what is to come driving you insane.

But you know that you have to let Dave have control here, he needs to do it at his pace. Like always, this is more than just about sex.

One of his hands slides between you, his thick fingers dipping down to your core. He moans into your mouth as he drags his middle finger through your folds.

“Always so ready for me, aren’t you, Princess?” Dave taunts you as he breaks the kiss, pressing his slick forehead against yours.

“Could say the same thing to you, Duke,” you chuckle softly as you lean back and wrap a hand around his length, pulling back his foreskin slowly. You love the way he groans as you pump him slowly, his precome smearing over his tip as you work.

“Up.”

Dave’s voice is little more than a hoarse whisper as he returns his hand to your hip, already lifting you to line up over his cock. You hold him steady as he notches his tip at your core. He guides you down slowly, letting you sink onto him at your own pace. You cradle the back of his neck with your hands, thumbs pressed against his throat as you move.

The burn is delicious as you feel him stretch you out. You pant and whine at the way his dick twitches inside you. Dave’s hands are firm on your hips, making sure you don’t strain yourself. You try not to grind against him as he settles deep inside you. Your thighs are clammy as you feel the weight of Dave inside you. It’s so tight, so snug, you move your hands to his shoulders, blunt nails digging into his skin.

“So good to me,” he mutters as he presses his head against your sternum. His strong arms snake around you, one around your waist, holding you down. The other arm presses against your spine, broad hand splayed between your shoulder blades.

You rest your chin on Dave’s head, burying your nose in his hair. Your arms rest on his shoulders as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck. It’s getting long enough to curl ever so slightly at the ends. He smells like cheap hotel soap, and you close your eyes as you try not to think too hard about what it’s covering up.

“Missed you while you were away,” you say softly as you clench around him. You don’t mean to, but the soft, wet kiss to your damp skin catches you off guard. You whimper a little as he twitches inside you.

Dave doesn’t respond verbally, he simply tightens his grip on you, pulling you down onto him. But there’s no room to move, you’re already so tightly pressed together. The action is symbolic, a silent “thank you, I missed you too”.

You don’t need him to say it back, you’ve been together long enough, been through so much. You know what you mean to him, even when he can’t say it.

You stay there for some time, both of you needing this. Needing to just feel one another after so long apart.

You, after knowing there is always a chance Dave won’t come home. No matter how many times he comes back to you, no matter how many times he promises he will. You always feel a gaping hole in your chest when he’s gone. You need him to mend that tear in your chest.

Dave needs it so he can feel human again, to know that no matter what he has to do. No matter how bloody his hands get, that he still has a soul. He needs to feel you like he needs oxygen to breathe, like he needs to eat and drink, you sustain him. You make him feel whole, wanted, human.

You begin to tremble as the need for him to move becomes too much. You’ve been warming him for less than twenty minutes but you’re so desperate. The hand splayed across your back moves to cup your jaw. You lean back and smile down at him as his dark brown eyes threaten to swallow you whole.

“Hey,” he mumbles as he rubs his thumb over your cheekbone.

“Hey,” you respond, your thighs tremble as you watch him tilt his head up, pulling you down to kiss him.

It starts slow, soft, tender kisses as his hips grind slowly, his cock nudging your g-spot. You moan, your mouth falling slack as you finally feel the relief flood through you. The pressure eases, building quickly into a fizzling sensation at the base of your spine.

Dave runs his tongue over your bottom lip, and you dart your own out to meet him. Your tongues twist together outside of your mouths before you slot your mouth over his. You thread your fingers through the hair at the base of his skull as you invade his mouth, swallowing his groans as he slowly fucks up into you.

It’s slow, intimate even, as he takes his time. He pulls almost all the way out, making you whimper at the teasing action, then he pulls you down once more. You feel every ridge and vein of his cock rake through your walls as he fills you up again. It’s so slow it’s maddening, and you can feel your orgasm building. Pleasure ripples under your skin as Dave’s kisses get greedier, his tongue dominating your mouth. No matter how hard you try and match his tenacity he doubles down.

His hips start to snap up harder, his cock punching up into your soaked cunt. You wail as you feel the thick pad of his thumb swipe over your clit. His palm on your pubic bone, pressuring your abdomen as he increases the speed and intensity of his thumb on your swollen bundle of nerves.

Soon you’re both panting into one another’s mouths, no longer able to keep your lips on each other. You’re whimpering and whining at every drag of his cock inside you. His grunts are getting higher pitched, breathy and desperate as he buries his face in your neck. Your cunt squeezes tight around Dave as your release bursts from your core. You cry out as you feel the pressure on your clit increase just as Dave sucks hard at the skin on your clavicle.

His pace doesn’t falter until the last second as his lips leave your skin as he fucks up into you hard one last time, stilling as he spills inside you. He lets out a barely there whimper before he lolls his head forward, his forehead pressed against your sternum.

“Thank you,” he breathes as he pants heavily beneath you, his arms wrapped around you as he holds you close. His hot breath fanning out against the slick skin of your chest, his lips brushing your skin with featherlight kisses.

“Don’t need to thank me, Dave, I needed that too,” you admonish him with a playful slap on his shoulder as you bury your face in his hair. No more does he smell like cheap hotel soap and regret. He smells like you, and him, and the beautiful concoction of your combined pleasure.

“I missed you,” he mumbles, his voice already heavy with fatigue, “Love you.”

“I love you too, Dave,” you nuzzle your nose against his scalp as you press barely there kisses to his damp hair, “Now come on, I need to pee, and we both need some rest.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You ease off of Dave’s lap and hold your hand out to him. He takes it without hesitation, and you lead him into your shared bathroom. In less than five minutes you’re in bed, cleaned up, sated, and snuggled into Dave’s side. You feel him pull you close as he begins to drift off and you can’t help but smile. You’re finally at peace, at home, now he’s here.

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #fanfic #smut #dave york pit #dave york #dave york fanfiction #equalizer 2 #dave york smut #dave york x female reader #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x ofc #dave york x oc #The Princess and The Duke #Princess Luna x Duke Silver #soft!dave york #dom!dave york #soft dom!Dave York #vi writes #my writing #dave york did nothing wrong #dave york apologist #dave york imagine #pwp #pwp fics #mostly pwp

[herofics]

Could you do a HC for JJK Toji, Satoru and Choso all adults and the S/O is very early 20s ☺️ Scenario: What would they argue about/The Aftermath of it SFW please 🙏🏾✨ Thanks please take your time 😌

A/N: This was pretty fun to write. I didn’t do Choso, because I couldn’t come up with anything for him, but I hope you like these anyway

~Fushiguro Toji~

•Toji’s gambling habit is often the source of your arguments, because holy shit this man can be incredibly irresponsible

•You’re the stable earner out of the two of you, Toji works sometimes, which means he takes some sort of a bounty and kills a sorcerer or two

•He doesn’t really ever come back hurt, which you tend to worry about, but when the money he earns is gone in a week, you’re pretty pissed

•It’s his money, yes, so he’s free to what he wants with it, but he really needs to contribute to rent and stuff

•Toji isn’t very good at arguing in a healthy way, because when you get pissed at him, he just mostly ignores you

•That’s the case with only money arguments though, if there’s something else he considers actually serious like him hurting your feelings, he will listen

•I’m going with money as the source of the argument though, so he can be a bit of an ass about that

•He just usually tells you “It’s my money ain’t it?”

•He then pulls you into his lap on the couch and just wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on top of your head

•It can be really frustrating sometimes, but even if he looks like he doesn’t listen, he always does

•So to make up for it, he always comes through with the money you need to pay rent or buy food, etc

•You don’t really want to know how he got the money, but he always does

~Gojo Satoru~

•Gojo can be incredibly thoughtless sometimes

•He says things without thinking and hurts your feelings accidentally, or makes a joke that’s not in such good taste

•He’s not malicious, sometimes he just says something in the heat of the moment that he doesn’t really mean

•Gojo very rarely takes offense to anything you say, but if he does, he doesn’t tell you and just keeps it to himself

•So your arguments are usually because of something he says to you and then his hurt feelings end up coming out too

•Things tend to pile up with him, and he absolutely hates that you both have the tendency for that, because of what happened with Suguru and him not telling Gojo anything

•When you do end up arguing, it’s usually pretty bad, because things have been simmering for so long

•But you make it up to each other just as well

•The arguments themselves don’t last very long, but it usually ends with the silent treatment form both sides

•Gojo never lasts long with that though, he hates it when you’re angry with him and he’s always the first to break the silence

•He basically comes crawling back to you, apologizing

•You talk about it, and you always end up resolving what’s currently troubling you both, but Gojo especially has a tendency to go bit overboard with apologizing

•He wants to make sure you’re not upset with him, so he buys you gifts and is as affectionate as you allow

•Gojo can be really clingy, so he would basically just hover around you all the time and grab your waist or kiss you on the cheek, just do something where he can touch you gently

•It’s nice to be pampered and given affection, so you don’t mind

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #toji fushiguro #gojo x reader #toji x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen hcs #jjk hcs #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

[headkiss]

request:))))

one night after his late shift steve’s like 2 hours late and reader crying and worrying and thinking worse case scenario happened and she couldn’t sleep but he went out with robin and forgot to tell u. when he gets back she’s like crying and hugging him but than gets really mad and like they argue idk work your magic😭😭

hey hey!!! this is a little different (they didn’t end up arguing i’m sorry) but i hope u enjoy it nonetheless :) | 0.9k words angst to fluff

Steve’s late. He’s never late.

He would get home fifteen minutes after his Family Video shifts would end because he’d drive Robin home, too. Every time. Every time except for today, it seemed.

When he was about twenty minutes late, you didn’t worry too much, figuring they had last minute customers and had to close late. That was plausible, made sense to your easily frazzled mind.

Ever since the Upside Down invaded Hawkins, and you went through it all with Steve, you worried constantly. It’s why he would usually come home on time, unless he told you he’d be late. This time, he hadn’t mentioned anything.

You were constantly scared that the darkness would come back, enough that you’d make sure your friends were safe and doing okay at least every other day.

When he’s forty minutes late, you start to get nervous, jittery. Your leg is bouncing where you sit on the couch and your hands shake ever so slightly when you bring your cup of tea to your lips.

You curse when the hot drink spills a little.

At the one hour mark you finally give in to your worries and walk over to the phone and dial the store's number. It rings and rings and rings. Nobody picks up. You slam the phone back to its spot and press the heels of your hands to your eyes, trying to get rid of the tears that are threatening to spill.

You’re frustrated. But mostly, you’re afraid that something might’ve happened to him.

You take a deep breath and try Robin’s number next. The ringing seems to be teasing you, taunting you. This time, her mom picks up, and when you ask her if Robin’s home, she says no but that she’ll tell her you called. You thank her and hang up.

You try your best to stay positive, to reassure yourself that he’s fine, he’s okay, but it doesn’t work for very long. The apartment is empty, the space you share with Steve feels like it’s missing something when he’s not there. He lights it up, and his absence is hard to forget.

You think you might be too dramatic, but you’ve also been through so much.

By the time he finally comes home, you’re on the couch, eyes red from crying and the tear tracks clear down your face.

“Baby?” He can hear you sniffling and he takes off his shoes and drops his keys as quickly as he can before kneeling in front of you.

“Steve,” you breathe out.

Then, you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him close, crying again. You think it’s because you’re relieved, the emotions rushing through you for the past two hours echoing through your head. Maybe it’s because of how he looked at you, or, what you saw through your watery eyes. The care and concern, the pinch in his brows and the small frown on his face because you’re upset.

He hugs you back, a gentle hand smoothing down the back of your head to try and soothe you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“You’re late,” is all you manage to get out between hiccups.

Steve’s heart sinks because he knows what you mean. You thought he was going to be home hours ago and he forgot to tell you he wouldn’t be. He knows how much you worry and he forgot. He feels awful, so he holds you tighter.

“Baby. I’m so sorry,” he kisses the side of your head. “Went out with Robin for a bit. I forgot to tell you.”

He manœuvres you both so that he’s sitting on the couch, you in his lap so that you’re able to hug more comfortably, bodies closer.

“No,” you say, your tears calming down. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t freak out like this.”

He pulls back just enough to look at your face, to let you look at his. He pushes away the hair that sticks to your face where it’s wet from your crying, then wipes the tears away, too. He presses kisses to both your cheeks, then your forehead.

“Don’t apologize. This is my fault, okay?” When you shake your head and go to disagree, he cuts you off. “No, it is. Should’ve told you but I’m here now, I'm safe, see?”

He takes one of your hands and presses it to his chest, right where his heart is beating. Alive and strong, a rhythm that calms you.

While you focus on breathing with him when he tells you too, in and out, he continues to place pecks across your face, loving and sweet, little apologies buried in the kisses.

“Will you tell me next time?” You speak quietly, slightly embarrassed to still be so affected by the Upside Down. “Please? I know it’s stupid-”

“It’s not stupid, you hear me? Not after what’s happened to you, to all of us,” his hands cradle your face once more, thumbs stroking your skin. “I promise I’ll be better next time.”

You nod, you know he means it. Steve Harrington has never broken a promise.

“I love you, Steve.”

“Love you too, baby. How ’bout we go to bed and I’ll snuggle you all night.”

“All night?”

“Hell yeah. C’mon.”

He pulls you to your shared bedroom, completes your night routine alongside you, he never strays out of your sight. Then, he does as he said he would; he holds you all night.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington request #steve harrington requests #steve stranger things #steve x reader #stranger things #stranger things fic #stevie blurbs

[minho-hoho]

Stray Kids's maknae line reaction when they think you left them

Hyung Line

GENRE - angst with a fluffy ending

PAIRING - bf!skz x gn!reader

WARNING - cursing, crying

REQUESTED - yes

WC - 1.7k

NOTE - since it's a part two I re-used the intro, hope it's fine for y'all!!

MASTERLIST

Intro

It was supposedly a normal day. You came home earlier than your boyfriend like usual and you were just patiently waiting for him to come home as you knew how intense his job could be, you didn’t hold it against him, after all it was his dream and you were doing your best to support him.

All you asked for was for him to be open with you. After all, it wasn’t like you started dating a few weeks ago. It has already been a few years, and you truly valued openness as it was an essential thing to have in a relationship or to understand each other and help each other more effectively.

Unfortunately, your boyfriend had a tendency to not tell you about the things that bothered him, especially when it was because of work. He didn’t want to burden you. It felt as if he was ungrateful for his dream job by complaining about it especially when you were his number one supporter.

It has already been a week since he had been in a bad mood and to avoid taking it out on you, your boyfriend has been distant and cold to you. You were tired of seeing him like this, it upsetted you. You wanted him to be happy and to help him and recomfort him if he needed, but he was being completely silent or just assured that everything was fine when it was clear it wasn’t.

Today was the day you had enough of his attitude. You pressured him to explain himself, that you only wanted the best for him. He was already pissed off by what happened during the week and you pestering him was the vase that broke the camel’s back. Something in him lighted up, and now the two fo you were arguing late at night. And unfortunately, you both said things you didn’t mean.

The argument had to take a stop when the neighbours had enough of your bickering. Your boyfriend went to take a shower, and you couldn’t stand being in the same house as him for the moment and you decided to leave until you cooled down. You weren’t sure how much time you were going to leave, if you were coming back later that night or if you were going to a hotel or a friend’s house, but what you did know was that you absolutely needed the fresh air and to think about what happened.

Your boyfriend was so upset he didn’t even notice that you left in the first place. It was only when he was done dressing up and that he was searching for you that he noticed that you weren’t here anymore. Because of the anger, he didn’t bother searching for you longer, thinking that you’d be back later and that he’d find you in bed the following morning.

Unfortunately for him, when he woke he couldn’t find you anywhere in the morning.

HWANG HYUNJIN 황 현진

Hyunjin didn't waste a single second before getting dressed and ready in case he needed to look out for you.

He took his phone in his hands and started calmly dialing your number. He was sure to get you on the other side of line and didn't worry too much. He trusted you to be somewhere safe. But as soon as he dialed the number, he got the voice box. He tried calling a few times again but to no avail. He started to get worried, but still tried his best to keep his calm. He started to call your closest friends in hopes of finding you.

After a few calls, he managed to get a hold of you when one of your friends answered one of his calls and told him that you were in fact with them. A huge wave of relief took over his body and he immediately came to pick you up. He couldn't help but be filled with guilt on his way, it went all too far. He couldn't help but think about what if you really left him.

Fortunately for him, when you opened him the door you didn't hesitate to hug him, knowing his distress from earlier.

“Let's not argue like this. Ever again.” He agreed feeling emotional.

HAN JISUNG 한 지성

Panic quickly took over his body when he noticed your absence. He frantically looked at every single corner of the house all while furiously hitting his phone's keyboard to call you. Jisung kept cursing under his breath as none of the calls went through. As he looked through his contacts to see who might have seen you, he couldn't help but think about what if you didn't love him anymore, what if you left him for good? Did he just ruin his perfect relationship? He hated the thought of a life, a future without you, yet it was all he could think about. Negative thoughts ran through his mind, and he could feel the hot tears on the verge of falling.

Despite his troubled state, Jisung ran out of the house in hopes of finding you somewhere and redeem himself to you. To apologise for the bad he caused.

He found you walking near a park, he rushed to your side and hugged you. He couldn't even mutter a word and let his tears flow on your shoulder. You were quite startled but you felt bad for making him feel this way. You both didn't say anything. But you both knew how bad and sorry the other felt and it was enough at the moment.

LEE FELIX 이 필릭스

His face dropped when he saw you weren't there, laying next to him. Despite the fear, he tried calming himself down and looked for for you. He already felt bad for what happened the previous night and had already planned on making it up to you in the morning, but had he messed up so much that you even had to leave?

He tried calling you a few times, but stopped quickly realising he wasn't going to get any response from you. Felix didn't want you to get even madder at him by spamming you. He knew you'd come back soon eventually, he trusted you.

He decided to use the best of his baking abilities and bake your favourite cookies of his in hopes of at least putting a small smile on your face when you'd come back.

He spent about 3 hours using his skills the best way he could. When he finished his cookies, Felix decided to check on the time and started to worry again seeing you still were not there. He wanted to go outside look for you and even buy something to surprise you even more, but he wanted to be there once you'd have showed up. He didn't have to wait much longer before hearing the front door open. He immediately ran to you and hugged you, the tears he tried suppressing threatening to spill any time now.

Felix apologised profusely, or at least tried to through his sobs. You both calmed down after a while and he lead you to the table where the cookies were and you both enjoyed them, muttering some sorries in between.

KIM SEUNGMIN 김 승민

He sighed deeply before taking his car keys in his hands. “Shit... I fucked up really badly this time...” He sighed once again before heading outside. He entered his car and drived around to see if he could find you wandering in the streets. He started to get worried when he couldn't find you after an hour of driving. He had to stop driving as he was scared that the panic he was having would affect his driving. He went to sit down in a coffee shop to try and calm down.

Seungmin anxiously sipped on his coffee as he thought about what he should do next. He grabbed his phone and tried dialing your number, but to no one's surprise, you didn't answer. He tightened his right fist as he regretted everything he did that led to you leaving.

He looked around the coffee shop, perhaps he could find one of your friends or anyone that could know your whereabouts; but instead his eyes landed on your figure, ordering something at the counter.

Seungmin could feel his heart do somersaults as relief filled him. He immediately sat up and went to you, not wanting to lose you once again.

“Y/N...” he said, his voice barely above a whisper but still loud enough for you to catch him.

“I'm sorry, please let's talk...” was all he could say, feeling his voice crack.

You felt bad seeing him so affected, but you still reluctantly answered him, “I'll get my order, then we can go home.” he nodded before shyly holding your hand.

YANG JEONGIN 양 정인

Too stubborn, it took him a while to notice your absence. But even though he was particularly stubborn and didn't want to apologise first, his worries kept on increasing. His appetite was cut short as he thought about your whereabouts.

He swallowed his pride and dialed your number. Jeongin anxiously bit his lower lips, hoping to hear your voice on the other side of the line. But all he could hear was your voicemail. He hung up, and walked in circles in the living room wondering if he should look out for you or just wait for you to come home.

He decided that staying home was a better idea. Jeongin nervously fidgeted with anything his hand came in contact with, and every so often his eyes darted to look at the ticking clock.

It had already been a few hours, so he sent you messages apologising sincerely, in the hopes of you at least reading them. After hitting the send button he put his phone aside and went to take a shower to relax and calm himself down.

Just as he finished, he saw your sitting figure, head hung low. His eyes opened wide as a wave of emotions came over him.

As soon as he regained his composure, Jeongin rushed to your side and hugged you tightly, not wanting you to disappear once again. You did the same, you had missed him and truly hated how your argument had escalated.

No words were shared and only quiet sobs were to be heard, but you both knew how the other felt and it was enough for you two.

PERM TAG LIST! : @stacey-stonem, @sh1mzu, @axartia, @echantedrose, @leeknowbuttsmasher, @nikipedia07, @deafeningballoonnacho, @sristsblog

t.list is open!

#koffeenet #🌇// ¡fics! #straykids angst #stray kids oneshot #straykids #straykids reactions #straykids fanfic #straykids fluff #straykids hyunjin #straykids han #straykids felix #straykids seungmin #straykids i.n #skz angst #skz reactions #skz oneshots #skz #hyunjin skz #skz han #skz ff #skz fics #skz fic #skz fluff #skz felix #skz seungmin #skz i.n #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin

[brokebonewritings]

can you do one where reader hasn’t ever dated anyone, or gone on a date and kissed anyone before bc of anxiety and being shy, and somehow you’re friends with matt and the gang (maybe from law school? idk) and foggy and karen keep telling you matt likes you but you don’t believe it until he tells you himself, and then you’re at a loss for how to proceed since you have 0 experience 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

My friend. Anything for you, especially since you’re my first request in a long time! So thank you so much! Hope you enjoy this little story 🤍

Sincerely, Anxiety.

Matt Murdock x reader

Tags/ Warning: Pure Cane Fluff

Word Count: 2.1K

Navigation | Masterlist

You sat quietly at the cafe booth you currently resided in. Waiting. Currently you’re waiting for your friends as they slowly filtered into the coffee shop. Karen joins you as she gets her coffee, the both of you catching up from the weekend. Foggy and Matt join 15 minutes later. 

The lot of you sit around the table and talk about the previous week. Cases you are all working on, your families, dates. Not that you have been on any date. Your social anxiety was far too bad to do any of that. 

“Okay, well we have to know.” Karen says. “Are you and Marci getting back together?” This was directed towards Foggy. His cheeks caught a tint of pink before he cleared his throat.

“I mean, I don’t know. It was just a date.” He replied.

You turn and give Karen a side eyed look before smiling. “So is there another date?” 

“You guys suck you know that?” Foggy mutters. “Yeah, we’re planning a second date.”

Matt lets out a small chuckle next to you, as you shake your head and take a sip of coffee. You stare at the way his eyes crinkle out of the side of his glasses. It makes your stomach fill with butterflies. Focusing on your cup a little too intensely, you realize Foggy had been calling your name after a few minutes.

“Huh?” You look up from the cup “What happened?”

“Karen asked how your date went?” Foggy replied. Out of the corner of your eye you see Matt tense a bit. Karen noticed as well as Foggy. You sat in silence for a moment.

“I didn’t go.” You said quietly.

“What?” Matt said abruptly. 

“Yeah, what?” Karen cleared her throat, in confusion.

“I just,” You start, rubbing the back of your neck. “I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I knew it would turn out bad.”

Now it was Foggy and Karen’s turn to look at each other in a knowing way. The dating conversation was dropped and everyone continued to finish their coffee. Once you are all determined to be done for the day you all part ways.

It was nice to see your friends almost daily. It helped that you all worked closely together. Karen, Matt and Foggy shared an office, and you worked right up the street in a PI office. 

What wasn’t nice was torturing yourself by seeing Matt almost daily. Your hands were always clammy when you were near him. Heart beating slightly faster whenever you accidentally brush your hands. You really had it bad for Matt, and could you blame yourself? Yes, you always did blame yourself.

You and Karen walk through Central Park on a leisurely stroll. It wasn’t too often that the both of you got to hang out, so when it did happen it was nice. You both giggle as you make fun of Foggy and Matt the previous night at Josies. They had been arguing over what had happened on a particular night in college.

“What a great day for a picnic! This was a great idea!.” Karen exclaimed. 

“Right? I’m glad you were able to come.” You smile warmly at her. “Especially without the boys.”

Stopping on the top of a small hill, you both begin setting up for your little lunch. It really was a nice day out. It was cloudy and the park wasn’t packed for once. The small basket was quaint, but nothing too fancy.

“You said you needed to talk to me about something?” You asked after a moment. The both of you continue setting out small plates and cups. She looks up for a moment, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear before clearing her throat.

“Right…” She starts. “It’s about the other day at the coffee shop. Foggy and I noticed that Matt looked surprised when I mentioned the date.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. Did you tell him about the date?” She asks curiously. No. The answer was that simple. You didn’t know how to speak to Matt like a regular person. A big part of that was because you liked him. Another part was that you were too shy around him, and why would he be interested in someone that can’t even speak up at a bar.

“I didn’t think he would react the way he did.” You finally respond. Karen’s lips flattened, obviously she disapproved of your answer. You decide to ignore the look on her face as you pour the both of you a cup of lemonade.

“You know he likes you right?” Her comment makes you spill a little juice on the blanket. “Wait… did you not know?”

“Did I not know?!” You choke out. The reaction coming out of you was actually laughable. Honestly, how could you have known. The man likes to keep secrets, you knew he was good at it too. “He can’t possibly like me. I’m definitely not his type.”

“He’s got it bad for you, y/n.” She says. “Maybe you should just shoot your shot.”

“I don’t think he does though.” You admit quietly. “Even if he did the what if he rejects me?”

“He won’t.” She takes the small sandwiches out of the basket before putting one on a plate for you. “He talks about you constantly, and you know he doesn’t date anyone?”

“He doesn’t?” You take the plate and hand her a small bowl of salad in return. “Not even his infamous one night stands?”

Karen shakes her head and knits her eyebrows together. “He hasn’t spoke about that in a long time actually. Point is, he’s confided in Foggy about being smitten by you.”

The red tint on your cheeks didn’t hide the fact that you felt the same way. You very much were smitten by him too. However there was one thing that was holding you back. Your anxiety. How could possibly tell Matt that you felt the same way.

“Wait, why are you telling me this?” You ask, and she snorts in response.

“Are you kidding me? Foggy and I are kind of tired of the both of you dancing around each other.”

“You mean to tell me, that Mr. Confidence is anxious about telling me he likes me?”

She nods in response as she eats her salad. You focus on your own food for a moment before speaking up.

“I’ve actually never been on a date before.” You begin. “And I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

Karen’s head flies up as she stares at you with wide eyes. “No way!”

You blush and nod. It really was never your fault. Your people skills in High School were very limited. Even after you entered college they were limited. Working as a private investigator helped a little but not a lot.

“I don’t even know where to begin in asking someone out.” You admit.

She considers the statement for a moment. “Then maybe we should come up with a plan.”

The smirk on her face says it all. For the rest of the picnic the both of you devise a scheme to tell Matt how you feel and a way to ask him on a proper date.

The week had come and gone in a flash. You all gather at Josies for your Friday night rituals. Same Table, Same Drinks, and Same People. Karen quickly takes a seat next to Foggy, which leaves you to sit next to Matt. You set your drink down before sliding into the chair. Matt looks over and smiles at you.

“Hey.” He says softly.

“Hi Matt.” You reply in the same tone. A blush slowly rises from your neck. The smile he gives you makes the butterflies that were in your stomach migrate to your chest. The warmth of his body sitting next to yours was comforting.

Throughout the night, everyone laughed and drank the woes of the work week away. Liquid confidence crawls through your vein, and once you have gotten enough of it you look at Karen and nod at her.

“Oh hey Matt! Y/n had something at their apartment for you!” Karen says abruptly changing the current topic. He raises an eyebrow before turning to face you.

“What would that be?” He asks curiously.

“Oh. Well, just a late Easter gift.” You stutter. “You’re still catholic right?”

Matt lets out a loud laugh which makes you smile. ‘Take a breath’ you tell yourself.

“Yeah, I guess I am still Catholic.” He replies. “Why don’t we go now. It’s getting a bit late.”

You nod, and give Karen and Foggy a smile. Of course in good Nelson manner, the other man gives you a thumbs up. Karen winks and mouths a quick ‘Good Luck’ before you and Matt stand and make your way out of the bar.

It's crisp outside. Not enough to need a jacket, but you could tell that summer was quickly turning into autumn. You both walk mostly in silence, besides the little jokes you both made to each other. It was crazy to think that the pining was mutual between you two. Outsiders could look and think you were already in a comfortable relationship. 

Once you arrive at your apartment, you open the door and allow the both of you to enter. Setting your stuff on your counter, you offer Matt a glass of water. Happily he takes it and sit at your kitchen table.

“Wait right here a moment.” You say before disappearing into your room. Closing the door behind yourself, you lean against and take a big breath. Like you had been holding it in for ages.

You walk over to your small desk and retrieve the gift you had actually bought the day before. It was a small little box with a letter inside. Written in braille of course. Underneath the letter was a ticket to a candlelight orchestra.

Taking another deep breath, you step out from your room and head straight for Matt. He is waiting patiently in the same place he was before.

“Happy Easter, Matty.” You say quietly before handing him the small box. He grins as he takes it, opening it slowly.

His fingers gracefully take the letter out of the box before he sets it on the table.

“Braille?” He cocks an eyebrow. You nod.

“I wrote it myself.” A small smile forms on your face. Turns out learning how to read braille was hard. You had started it as a hobby a few years prior, and it finally came in handy.

Setting the paper on the table. His fingers glide over the page. You can see the smile growing on his face. Once he finishes reading your note, he turns his head in your direction. Anticipating his answer you forget to breathe.

“You like me?” He says shakily.

“Yeah, Matt. I really do.” You say with the rest of your breath.

His hand stretches out towards you and you grab his in return. You were shaking from the anxiety building up. He chuckles lightly when he feels the small tremors.

“And you want to go on a date with me?” You nod after his question.

“Only if you want to.” You let out.

“Of course I want to.” He says. “I’ve wanted to for a long time.”

“You did?” The realization was settling on your face. Karen had been telling the truth after all.

“Yeah and you know what Karen told me?” 

“Hm?

“That you have never been on a date.” He grins. “And never been kissed.”

You were going to kill her. That’s on you though, she was the reason you were asking Matt out anyways. Your cheeks burned bright red as you stared at him.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Matt Murdock.”

“Me? Or will it be your anxiety?” He quips.

“Touche.”

The night went on until the sun came up. It was the longest conversation you had ever mustered the courage to have with him. Nothing was awkward about it either. It was like you both had been friends forever, which was somewhat true. Maybe this was the start of a huge stepping stone in your life. 

Matt didn’t seem to be bothered by your anxiety anyways. He always knew how to get around the minefields in your head. That's what drew you to him to begin with. Hopefully the first date would turn into more. You could only hope.

Secretly you thanked Karen for the way she helped you ask Matt out. Maybe all you needed was that one simple push. When he finally decided to go home, he wouldn’t let go of your hand. It was like he had become attached to you.

“I promise I’ll call you later.” He says

“Or maybe we can get some coffee once you do wake up?” You suggested.

“It’s date then.”

“Okay fine. It’s a date.” You say with a smile pushing him out your door.

#request #fic request #marvel #matthew murdock #matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #getting together #fanfiction #fanfiction writer

[bluehoodiewoozi]

DRABBLE MARATHON #3:

VERNON CHWE + presentation

0.7k words /// genre: fluff /// warnings: anxiety.

When you began dating, he made a silent promise: Vernon would always walk you to class on Fridays. 

Most weeks, it was a serene time to be together before the day’s burdens would inevitably worsen both of your moods. This week, he thought, something was different.

As you waited for the red light to turn green, he eyed you curiously. He made a mental note that you had dressed up nicer than you did on most days. You seemed to be mumbling something to yourself, quiet enough that he could only catch the ends of a select few words. The biggest give-away, though, was the subtle shaking of your fingers against his own.

The light turned green and you rushed to cross the street.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked, giving your hand a stronger squeeze to gain your attention. “You seem a little nervous.”

“Only a little?” you breathed out before letting out a nervous laugh. “I have that presentation today.”

His face scrunched up into a compassionate grimace. “That’s today?”

“Unfortunately,” you replied with a sigh. “I don’t know why but I feel like I’m going to fail this.”

“No way,” he argued a little too enthusiastically for your taste. “You’ve been preparing all week. That’s more than probably most of your classmates.”

“Well, most of my classmates have public speaking skills.”

“So do you.”

You scoffed. “Vernon, I almost cried the last time I had to do one of these.”

“But you won’t this time,” he insisted untangled his hand from yours to pull you into a side-hug as the two of you continued walking towards the lecture hall. “Come on, you’ll do great.”

Sensing that he wouldn’t rest the case otherwise, you gave a begrudging nod of agreement. 

His words did little to vanquish the waves of nauseating anxiety in your chest, but his presence was comforting in its own way. You wished he could attend the class with you and stand beside you, holding your hand or even just offering encouraging smiles as you present. But alas, you were cursed to carry this mission out on your own.

Then, an idea hit. You looked at him, pouting your lips a little just to annoy him a little (and maybe earn a little kiss). “Hey, Vern?”

“Yeah?” He raised his brows as he looked at you, half amused at your expression. 

“Can you lend me your sweater?” you asked him and his feet stuttered to a stop. 

He blinked rapidly while his arm dropped from around your shoulders. “You– I– What?”

“Your sweater,” you repeated a little slower, enunciating each syllable, “can I have it?”

Furrowing his brows, he thought about it for a moment. His eyes darted around as if to search for a hidden camera before settling on you again. 

You could barely contain your smile as he slowly began unzipping his hoodie and peeling it off. 

“What for?” he wondered, his voice low in wonder.

You took the sweater from his hands and wrapped it around yourself – even just having it around your shoulders was comforting in its own way. “It smells like you.”

He chuckled. “So?”

“You comfort me, right? So maybe if I have something of yours with me while I do my presentation, I won’t panic,” you told him your theory, feeling quite proud of it as his eyes lit up in understanding. 

His smile stretched so wide it must have hurt his cheeks. “You are–” He couldn’t find the words to say, instead opting to wrap his arm around you again and lead you to the lecture hall. 

“I’ll be fine,” you breathed out as the two of you came to a stop in front of the door. “I just have to survive out there for 20 minutes and then I won’t ever have to do this again.”

“That’s the spirit,” he told you before leaning over to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “You’ll do great. Call me when you get out, okay? Then you can tell me all about how you rocked the socks off that professor.”

You snorted at his choice of words. “That was awful.”

“But it made you laugh,” he countered with a wink.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #vernon x reader #vernon scenarios #vernon chwe scenarios #vernon #seventeen fluff

[st311ar]

Protective Redson x GN! Reader

Genre: Fluff

CW: Creepers (of the human verity)

summary?: Redson is getting car-parts while you stop for food at a grocery store.

Of course, out of any night, it was Friday Redson was shopping for replacement car parts, and you were stuck grocery shopping late at night without him. You didn’t blame him, of course. The poor guy had a stained windshield that stunk like chicken broth every time it got over 80° outside. Not to mention he had to melt two full car windshields to fit his “blood fire”, as he named his prized car.

but none the less, you couldn’t not help him. Yes he was a bit of a brat here and there, but when he gets all sappy when you two were alone, it makes up for his “asshole-ness”. You can’t blame him though. Sometimes some things just get on your nerves and well…they get on his much harder.

Just as you headed into the drinks section though, you noticed a quite drunk looking individual spot you. Must be from one of the clubs down south… you think to yourself. The person dosen’t seem too drunk, but just enough you can tell they had a bit too much. You grab you Sunny’s fruit punch Gatorade and make your way out of the isle…but then the individual follows you. You think nothing of it at first, since they were drunk and all, they could just be aimlessly wondering, and coincidentally followed you…

right?

just in case, your body sends shivers down your spine, making you jitter a bit as you went to get Redson’s spicy Doritos that he really wanted.

The person proceeded to follow you again.

okay, now was the time to get nervous. You picked out Sunny’s chips, and set them In the basket, pulling out your phone to text him.

“Sunny”

“love somebody is following me”

is all you could type before you felt a hand on your shoulder, and the sickening smell of alcohol enter your lungs. You almost gagged at how strong it was.

“Scuse me, but you seem lost~” the following individual spoke In a husky tone. Oh this was not good. Now despite years of being told how to deal with such an encounter like this one, your fear has you frozen, and basically unable to do anything the second they aproached you. “Well, I’m not, thank you…” you managed to say. The drunken individual scoffed, giving a small laugh, “You sure about that sweet-cheeks?”

you internally cringed so hard it would’ve been physical In a normal setting. You figured you could try to walk away, since that was the easiest option here. But as you tried, they grabbed your shoulder again, more forcefully. “Ah-Ah-ah, where do you think you’re going sweetheart~?”

this was it. You had had it with this stupid drunk dude, and you debated punching them, right when the intercom kicked on.

sounds of fighting and arguing we’re heard, before your favorite voice kicked on over the com,

“If somebody could PLEASE get that ugly peasant off of MY girlfriend?” Redson sounded esteemdly annoyed, right as the intercom turned off, and you instantly heard running stomps from the other side of the store.

The person stopped to glare at you, and just as their fist was riled up, “YOU.” Oh sunny was fuming. You could feel the heat of his fire from over here, and that wasn’t a thing that could happen every day.

“Get your hands off of them before I come over there and burn them off for you.” He growled. The individual promptly did as followed, and stumbled over as Redson shoved them aside into the racks. He cupped your face In his hands, checking for injury “oh- Love! Love- did they hurt you?!” Well that was one hell of a mood swing. “no…” you murmured, a bit embarrassed by Sunny’s pampering.

“Come on, love. We can get groceries later…” Redson gave one last death stare to your attacker, and gently linked your arm with his.

Slowly, you both made your way to the parking garage that his truck was In. He helped you In, and shut his door behind him, letting out a dramatic sigh. “I’m so sorry love…i shouldn’t have just left you there when you could be hurt…” Redson looked oddly guilty. But then again, around you, he did soften up a bit.

“Love- no…It’s fine- it happens…” You try to reassure him, but oddly enough, her looks like he’s about to cry.

“Love if my phone wasn’t charged you’d be left alone with that- that creep!” He appeared to be trying his damndest not to cry, but it just wasn’t working, so instead, you wrapped your arms around him.

“it’s okay…love, my phone was charged…i could’ve easily called the police…” this information seemed to let sunny relax a bit, but he didn’t finish crying until about a whole five minutes later. He pulled up with a sniffle, and sighed. “Right…” he murmured. He looked out his stained windsheild, and sighed. “Well…let’s get home…aaaand I can make you some s’mores…how’s about that?” He turned to you with a slightly exited smile.

You smiled back, and turned to him, giving him a small kiss. “That sounds wonderful.”

#redson #lmk redson #lmk #redson x reader #redsonlmk #gn! reader #writing #fanfiction #character x reader

[thelightsandtheroses]

Secret Smile: Chapter Five - Unsteady

Summary: Before returning to Colombia to get things right this time, Javi’s childhood best friend asks him to keep an eye out for his sister while they’re both stationed in the embassy. Only you don’t need Javier to keep an eye you her. Your role as a new legal advisor is all about keeping an eye on him after all. Sparks fly, lines will be drawn and broken and there’s everything to lose.

Word Count: 3.5k Chapter Warnings: 18+ blog, language, reader has a nickname (Blue) but no physical descriptors used Author Notes: As always, thank you for all your feedback, likes and reblogs so far – it means a lot and I’m having so much fun writing this fic. I’d love to know what you think of this next chapter so please feel free to comment, reblog or even send an ask!

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It’s clear to you now that you spend more time in Javi’s office than your own. Once again, you’re sitting on his chesterfield couch at an unsociable hour, wondering what on Earth the job you’ve taken actually is.

As a lawyer, you’ve almost always been involved with a case after the arrest is over. When you worked as a prosecutor, you helped get warrants, but were never involved in the planning of an arrest. Your job is crafting the arguments, responding to surprises, making sure the case is solid and you can help people achieve justice. You duck and weave and argue and make the case real to a jury. That’s your job.

This is new to you.

While planning the operation remains the responsibility of the DEA, you’ve been observing, supporting where you can by working with Martinez’s office to confirm the legal arrangements, but mostly just taking it all in and trying to fight your exhaustion.

Ever since you went to his apartment, something changed for the two of you. It feels like some element of your friendship from before has started to return.

You notice him sometimes as you walk down the corridor and you can’t help but smile at him.

He’s not the same Javi you remember, but he’s getting closer.

“And you’re sure you can trust him?” you ask, folding your arms as you speak.

“Blue, Martinez is one of the only people I could trust with this.”

“Calderon worries me.”

There’s a lot more than Calderon bothering you. What Javi’s planned will be a significant blow to the cartel, one that will start to fulfil the people’s need for justice, for consequences.

However, you’re not naive.

This could destroy the negotiation. This could cause significant pressure for you and Javi at the embassy too. The ambassador and Stechner have made it clear that they endorse this negotiation, the bloodless transfer of power.

And of course, you don’t want there to be blood. Justice though, you want there to be justice.

“So, Martinez is arriving in Cali separately - and you need to go soon to make your flight, Javi. I’ve been talking with Martinez’s office; mostly him and his secretary and trying to get this warrant sorted discreetly. The chances of success are higher if less people know.”

“We won’t get a chance like this again; this needs to work.”

 “I know. Javi, there will be consequences to this, even if it goes off perfectly.”

“For you?” he asks, furrowing his brow.

“No, it’s by the book. I mean, I don’t know if Stechner will be my biggest fan by the end of the week, but I can live with that.”

“I like to think that it’s a good thing if you’re on his bad side,” Javi jokes, “but honestly, just tell me you won’t -“

“I’m a big girl, Javi, I’ve got this. And if you and your team can pull this off? All bets are off.” You exhale slowly.

“We’ve got this, we’ve planned for this,” Javi looks over at you and smiles broadly, “We’re arresting Gilberto Rodriguez.”

It’s not your mission but you feel like it might as well be. Despite the mountain of paperwork, warrants and legal documents you need to complete today, you spent your morning thinking about what might be happening in Cali the whole time.

You couldn’t help thinking about Javi too.

Now, you regret that indulgence though and wish you’d got some work done.

Your phone won’t stop ringing, the paperwork is piling up. The arrest of Gilberto Rodriguez hasn’t so much caused waves as complete and utter destruction. If you thought the Duffy and Lopez situation was stressful, this is a whole other league.

In a way, you’ve missed this. You’ve missed the adrenaline rush of a case; the artful interplay between you and the other side as you bat arguments back and forth and hope to win. Small things have often stressed you out, but when you’ve had to go through bigger things; the adrenaline raising things that should be terrifying? You handle those with ease.

One of your old university tutors had said you were designed for this career path. You wonder what they’d say if they saw you now.

You take a gulp of water when you finally hang up the phone after a particularly tense conversation with the Colombian justice department.

The negotiation might be ruined. Gilberto was the one pushing for it, they say, you and the DEA might have just started another war.

It shouldn’t be this hard.

Linda looks over at you with a sympathetic expression. “Rough day?”

“Definitely not dull.”

“They’re airing the press conference from earlier now,” she says, indicating to the tv in your office.

You shrug and indicate the pile of paperwork and your phone on your desk. You simply don’t have the time. You take a gulp of cold coffee and move on to the next call.

After you finally finish the urgent calls and things start to feel slightly calmer, you make your way to Javi’s office. You haven’t seen him since before he left for Cali and that feels like a lifetime ago.

The walk to his office feels familiar now, you feel like you could make all of the right turns, know exactly where the stairs are, with your eyes shut. You pass Martinez leaving Javi’s office as you go to knock on the door.

“I think they’re going to be toasting you at the bar,” you say gently as you walk into his office.  Judging by the empty glasses on the desk and Javi’s expression, he’s already got started though. For a second, you’re annoyed that you’ve been fighting fires and had to find solutions, while he’s been toasting success, but then you realise his face tells another story.

You expected Javi to look happy at the clear victory his department has just achieved, but something’s clearly wrong. You doubt he’s spent his evening being yelled at in multiple languages, but you’re not sure how the arrest went, whether everything had been accounted for, or what Martinez has just told him.

“I hear you’re man of the hour, got yourself on TV and everything. It’s a good result, Javi,” you persist.

“Great.”

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

“Martinez - they’ve set him up, he’s had to resign.”

“Because of the raid?”

“I think it was in motion before, but probably didn’t help.”

“Shit.”

“He’s a good man and -”

“Javi, should you be drinking that on an empty stomach?” you ask, looking at the glasses at his desk. There’s a difference between a drink with people toasting you and drinking alone in an office.

“I could have eaten today,” he argues half-heartedly.

You cross your arms and point at the dirty ashtray. “I may not be a doctor like Rafael, but even I know cigarettes aren’t food.”

“Fine, do you want to get something to eat then?” Javi asks, looking up at you with wide eyes.

You reply without thinking, “Okay, yeah. That would be nice.” You eye the glasses. “I’ll drive.”

You weren’t sure what to expect when Javi asked if you wanted to get some food. Would you end up at the usual bar people went to after work, or some street food stall perhaps?

Whatever you had been thinking, you hadn’t expected Javi to direct you here - you’d insisted on driving after eyeing the empty glass in his office. It’s a small restaurant a short walk from your apartment, there’s only one other group eating but it’s getting late and you think it may have been a lot busier earlier. This is the sort of place it would be easy to walk past but clearly that’s a mistake.

Your ex always used to say you could tell a lot about people by the food choices they made; the restaurants they were drawn to, or wherever they chose for an outing. You used to just think that was because Sam was a chef, but now you’re not sure.

The food here is delicious; that perfect combination between home cooking and something more elevated. The spice level is just right, the flavours and colours rich and welcoming. It’s easily one of your favourite meals since you arrived in Colombia.

How did you not know about this place? How did Javi?

You take a bite of food and sigh cheerfully. “This is so good.”

“Told you,” Javi says lightly, taking a sip of his drink. “I’ve lived here a while; I know the best spots by now. Haven’t been back here since I got back though, so thought it would be a good choice.”

“Well, considering I haven’t seen you subsist on anything but alcohol or cigarette in recent weeks, I wasn’t sure what to expect.”

“Subsist? Wow, okay, you’re just showing off that fancy law school education now.”

“It has to come in useful sometimes,” you say, “Scrabble. It can be useful for scrabble.”

“You played a lot of scrabble in the evenings back in DC then?”

“There’s nothing wrong with scrabble. But I wasn’t - I wasn’t boring, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Javi says before flashing one of his winning smiles at you. It’s disarming, Javi’s disarming. You can see how he’s good at his job, how he’s good with people.

You briefly wonder what this scene looks like to people who don’t know you. Do you look like colleagues, or friends? Perhaps people would even think you were together, as laughable as the idea may seem to you in the moment. There’s a small pang of anxiety about this that rises in your stomach but you swallow it down. Not here, not now.

You’ve spent the evening getting to know Javi all over again and vice versa. Neither of you are the people who left Laredo years before, and perhaps neither of you had realised the ways you had changed.

This Javi is looser and lighter, he seemed to subtly shift the further away from the office you got and for the first time in a while, you feel like you’re with the person underneath all Javi’s masks.

You’ve talked about music, hobbies, things that aren’t work. You’ve somehow even promised to lend Javi a copy of the book you’ve just finished reading after enthusiastically describing how much you’d enjoyed it, how it had made you think and feel and do everything a good book should.

“Did you prefer Austin or DC?” he asks suddenly.

“I don’t know. I went to law school in Austin and it was my first real job as a lawyer after graduating and passing the bar. It was fun, I mean, I liked my life there - lots of music and it was so much bigger than Laredo. In DC, it was a whole other world entirely though. I was not prepared for the winters.”

“Oh no?”

“Javi, we’re Texans, do I look like I can handle snow?”

Javi laughs, full and deep. You want to tell him about the first snowfall you remember in DC, about how you stepped outside, taking in the beauty of the fresh blanket of snow and how it concealed so much and made you feel like a child again for just a moment. Wonder, that was what it was. Everything felt so full of possibilities and opportunity. DC had quickly quashed that naïveté though.

“Not really a problem here - you’d have to head up to the Andes for that.”

“I think I’ll survive without that. I’ll leave it to you, Javi, what with your adventures all around the country.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Have you been based in other places than here?” you ask in a low voice, curious about what had inspired his original question. The other group have left now and the people who own the restaurant are back in the kitchen; this is as close to a private setting as you could get, but you’re never sure how much you can trust your surroundings.

“Mexico, briefly  - wasn’t long after I graduated, but then I came back to the US and they sent me out to Colombia after that. Most of my time has been here though.”

It’s hardly surprising Javi cares as much as he does about getting things right here, about bringing down the Cali cartel. He’s spent most of his career out here; it’s as much as a part of him now as Laredo is.

You think you understand him a little more now.

“Wait, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Javi says in a low voice as you unlock the main apartment building door and walk towards your front door.

Somehow after dinner, you had insisted that you should give Javi the book you’d mentioned straight away and that he could order a cab from your apartment.

“I’ll just get the book and you can call a cab,” you say breezily, becoming surprised as Javi follows you, shaking his head the whole time.

“What number do you live in?”

You reply without thinking and notice Javi’s eyes bulge. Without concentrating on it, you move to unlock your front door.

“I’ll get that book,” you say quietly, “it’s late.”

“This - this was my apartment,” Javi says softly, stopping by the phone but not lifting it.

“What? What are you talking about, Javi?” you ask, dropping your handbag by the couch as you head for the bookcase to find the book you mentioned. Javi closes the door behind him and looks around your living area with wide eyes.

“Before. This was my place the last time I was here. I’m in a different building now. Well, you know that, you turned up there.”

“Oh, right.” You scan a shelf and then add, “Really? Here? This apartment?”

You’re concentrating on finding the book, focused on your mission and his words aren’t quite connecting. What does he mean - that this was his apartment?

“Where are the dog pictures?” he asks, wandering around the open plan living area. “Did they get rid of them?”

The dog pictures? It suddenly clicks.

“You were responsible for the dog pictures?” you ask incredulously. “The dog pictures were yours, Javi?”

“No, no. They uh, came with the apartment. And even if they didn’t, what was wrong with them?”

Oh, they definitely didn’t come with the apartment when Javi moved in.

You laugh as finally find the book you were looking for and take it off the shelf.

“I don’t remember you being such a dog person back in Laredo, Javi,” you tease, turning back around to face him. “Wait, so you lived here? As in here, in this exact apartment?”

“Yes. I’ve said that already. I lived here, Steve was upstairs … fuck, this takes me back. It’s barely changed. How did you end up here?“

“It’s just the apartment the embassy assigned me when I got here, luck of the draw, I suppose.”

Javi lived here? You look around, suddenly horrified. It suddenly sinks in - Javi once lived in your apartment.  You’re rapidly filled with horror at the rumours you’ve heard from Linda and Judith about Javi’s reputation with women over the years and oh - please will Javi at least tell you that the furniture is different? You cannot think that he might have slept in the same bed as you in the past.

“Please tell me they deep cleaned and changed the furniture because … no, I don’t - why are you smiling? Oh god, what did you do in this apartment, Javi? Stop laughing! What did you do? I’m going to have to burn everything, aren’t I?” Javi’s leaning on the end table, doubled over as he laughs.

You haven’t seen Javi laugh like this in years. It immediately transports you back to when you were younger, back to your childhood home in Laredo and the few times you would hang around with Rafa and Javi.  He’s younger, lighter, and as disturbed as you may be by the revelation, it’s almost worth it to see him like this.

“The comforter’s new,” he says sweetly. “It looks like they changed a few things around.”

“I bought the comforter,” you exclaim, arms folded.

”Oh.“ Javi holds his hands up in mock defeat.

“I can’t believe this.”

“You’re telling me!”

“How long were you here?”

“A while. The whole time I was here before.”

“Wow, that’s - wow, I don’t know what to say. I uh - ” you trail off. “One hell of a coincidence, huh?”

“Yeah. Of all the apartments in -”

“It’s fate, right? Like my friends says.” There are too many coincidences now, too many signs from the universe that you and Javi were meant to collide at this moment in time. You’re not sure what that exactly means, only that it surely means something.

“Maybe it is.” Javi replies thoughtfully. “Can’t believe this, Blue.”

“You know, I thought you’d want to spend tonight differently,” you say suddenly, changing the subject from whatever Javi has done or not done in this apartment before.

You’re leaning against your dining table as he moves closer to you. His eyes are bright from the moment before and you can smell the slightly spicy aroma of his cologne.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, at a bar with your friends, or … I don’t know, with different company perhaps. Celebrating the win.”

“Is it a win?” Javi asks, suddenly serious. He meets your gaze with his deep, questioning brown eyes.

You lower your voice instinctively, even though it’s only the two of you in the apartment. ”You did something everyone else didn’t think could be done. This needed to happen, people need to see consequences. We talked about it.”

“I fucked over the negotiation. You weren’t here before, Blue. We can’t go back to those days.”

Suddenly he doesn’t look comfortable here, as though being in this apartment has resurrected ghosts he had long since forgotten and the laugh has entirely faded from his face. 

“You arrested a criminal, a leader of a cartel. Javi, it was a win.”

“Martinez has been set up. He’s not dirty, there’s no way. And that’s on me - it was my choice to bring him in.”

“It was his choice to accept,” you say, “He strikes me as the sort of person who wants to do the right thing. Reminds me of a couple of other people I know.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean my brother’s a doctor and everything.”

“I hate you,” Javi says, shaking his head and fighting a smile.

“No, you don’t.”

“Not at all.”

“You’re a good person, Javi,” you say, because suddenly it feels like that’s what he needs to hear, to know. And he is a good person, of course he is.

“I’m not the kid you remember from Laredo anymore.”

“Neither am I.”

“No, neither are you.” His voice is lower, heavy like molasses and it sends heat pooling in your stomach. “You - you’re something else, Blue.”

Somehow, he’s right in front of you now and your back is against the table, a hand stabilising you and he’s here.  You can hear him breathing, feel the warmth radiating from him next to you. He’s so close, and he smells so good and you could easily kiss the freckles on his neck, you could easily meet his lips and -

You haven’t been with anyone in months; you’ve barely allowed yourself a moment to even think about intimacy, to think about missing this. You hadn’t realised how much you missed being next to a person, so close to you, and knowing what’s about to happen, the anticipation, the impending fires and soaring heat.

Maybe this is the reason why you’re both here. Maybe this is what’s been written on the cards for the two of you.

You close your eyes and part your lips slightly and it’s going to happen -

Immediately everything in you runs cold. What are you thinking? What’s wrong with you? You can’t do this.

You cannot possibly do this.

After everything that went down in DC, pursuing this would be one of the most stupid things imaginable. After everything that went down in DC, it’s reprehensibly foolhardy. After everything that went down in DC, you cannot believe you are still this stupid.

You move away rapidly, fast enough that Javi looks at you with worry.

“Are you-”

“We can’t do this. What - that - that would never happen, Javi.”

“Why not? Because I know your brother?” Javi asks, a bewildered expression on his face.

“No, because we work together. I can’t - I don’t - I won’t cross that line. I will not be that woman.”

“What woman?”

“The woman that fucks around at work. Please go, Javi, please. Let’s just forget this - our emotions are heightened, it’s been a long day, we’ve both been drinking.”

There’s a rising panic in your body, you can feel how your palms are sweaty and how your mind is getting muddled between then and now, between DC and Colombia.

It’s just the food, just the alcohol you tell yourself. It’s familiarity and all sorts of things confusing the receptors in your mind. It’s not real. That moment between you and Javi was just a blip.

“I’ll call that cab,” Javi says sombrely as he walks over the landline.

There’s a tension in the air and you feel guilty, confused and upset all at once. He’s not standing so close to you now, he seems to be keeping as much physical distance as he can from you.

“Are you-”

“I’m fine, Javi, just tired and - please let’s just forget this. Please?” The two of you had made so much progress and in just one moment, one stupid moment, you feel like everything’s ruined.

“Of course, Blue,” he says.

It is only after  Javi has left, book in hand and confusion in his eyes, that you finally allow yourself to break down.

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