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foxy-eva · 9 months

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Stress Relief

Summary: When Reader complains about back pain, Spencer offers a massage. Things escalate.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) a little bit of awkwardness, massages, implied hand kink, heavy kissing, fingering, handjob, unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist

It wasn't the first time your team had to double up in a hotel while working on a case but you had never ended up being paired with your favorite coworker before. When you stepped into the room after a long day of trying to save lives, you suddenly realized something.

Spencer was right behind you when he saw it too, mumbling an almost inaudible, "Oh."

Oh.

There was only one bed.

The receptionist had already let you know that they were completely overbooked, so switching to a different room was no option.

Spencer was quick to offer solutions as he started rambling, "I know Morgan said he wouldn't share a room with me but maybe he'll change his mind if I explain this to him?"

"Don't you think it's more likely he'll tease us? Besides, that would leave me with Hotch and I'd rather share a bed with you than with my boss."

Spencer shrugged and mumbled, "I always liked to double up with Emily. I wonder why she insisted on sharing a room with JJ."

You looked at him with raised eyebrows and a smirk on your face. "Yeah, who knows!"

You did know but Spencer was as oblivious as ever. If he was really that bad at seeing what was right in front of him, there was at least a chance that he hadn't yet caught onto your feelings for him either. You really hoped that tonight any improper thoughts you had would be drowned out by the exhaustion slowly taking over your body.

"I can sleep on the floor," Spencer voiced his final offer.

You shook your head in protest. "The bed is big enough for the both of us."

With that it was settled, you were going to share a bed with the man who had been occupying your mind an almost embarrassing amount. Spencer, however, had never once shown any signs that he reciprocated your growing feelings for him. So instead of addressing them, you decided to simply suffer in silence until they'd pass.

When he stepped into the bathroom to get ready for the night, you couldn't stop your mind from racing to fantasies far from being appropriate. It didn't help to hear him turning on the shower because now all you could think about was tearing your own clothes off to join him. Somehow you managed to keep your composure - for now at least.

Spencer looked absolutely adorable with his washed-out Caltech shirt and checkered pajama pants, so much so that you took several seconds to blatantly stare at him when he came back into the room. It caused him to look down at his body to make sure that everything was in place.

“Sorry, you just look really… cute like that,” you muttered to help with his confused look.

A slight rosy shade spread over his cheeks at your compliment and he looked at you as if he wasn’t quite sure if you were making fun of him. But of course your words were genuine.

As you gathered your things to go take a shower yourself, you snickered, “It’s a shame that outfit probably wouldn’t pass the FBI dress code.”

He took a book out of his bag and sat down on one side of the bed, chuckling, “Yeah, it definitely would not pass.”

The shower helped clear your mind and you were positive that you’d be able to go to sleep without any other distractions. As you approached the bed in your usual nightwear - a tanktop and some colorful shorts - it became obvious that Spencer was even worse at hiding his staring than you were.

“It’s weird, right?” You asked as you sat down on the bed. “Seeing each other in casual clothes, I mean.”

Without saying a word he just nodded before focussing back on his book again. As you leaned against the headboard of the bed you noticed something that had been bothering you all day. Your back was aching and your shoulders were painfully tense. You stretched your arms over your shoulders before you reached back to massage some tender spots on your neck.

“You okay?” Spencer asked as he turned his head to watch you.

“Yeah, it’s just my back pain. I slept weird last night and I have been sitting at my desk too much those past few days,” you explained.

To your surprise, he offered, “Maybe I could help?”

Before you could consider what feeling his hands against your body would do to you, you replied, “Yeah, that would be nice, actually.”

You readjusted your position until you sat cross-legged on the bed with your back facing your roommate for the night. Spencer set aside his book and sat behind you, tentatively putting his palms on your shoulders. The heat his body radiated entered your body and lit a spark inside you that you desperately tried to ignore.

When he began pressing his fingertips into the tense muscles of your shoulders and neck, you instantly became pliable under his touch. The places he touched were innocent but that didn’t change the fact that a familiar warmth spread through your body and collected in your center.

There was no way to hold back the shy moan from falling from your lips when he found a particularly tender spot.

He halted his motions to ask, “Did I hurt you?”

“No, it just feels really good,” you breathed.

“That’s nice to hear,” he cooed in the softest tone you’d ever heard from him. “You deserve to feel good.”

Those last couple of words echoed in your mind before you could grasp what they meant. It was that moment that you asked yourself if the innocent and shy Spencer Reid was trying to flirt with you.

To distract yourself, you decided to talk to him - unaware what colossal mistake that was going to be.

“So, where did you learn how to give back rubs?”

Nonchalantly as ever, he responded, “I read a book about it a few years ago.”

“You read a book about massages?”

The breath he let out at your question tickled the skin of your shoulders and you broke out in goosebumps. You hoped that he wouldn’t notice.

“Well, it was about tantric practices and there was a very interesting chapter about… uhm… full-body massages,” he explained, not helping with your current situation at all.

It was getting almost impossible for you to form coherent sentences, even more so when Spencer continued talking.

“Are you interested in that?”

Almost jumping at his words, you blurted out, “In getting a full-body massage?!”

“No!” Spencer laughed. “In reading the book!”

Before you could respond, you felt his hands wander down your back, lightly rubbing over your shirt. It was getting harder to focus with every second passing, too overwhelming became the need to feel more of him.

“I’ll think about it,” you finally responded.

Spencer’s fingertips brushed over your lower back, way too lightly to find any tight spots and you were wondering if he was trying to tease you at this point.

His words brought you back to reality. “I can continue with my massage if you want but uhm.. your shirt is getting in the way.”

Without thinking about it, you stated, “I’m not wearing a bra.”

“I know,” Spencer chuckled. “I won’t look, I promise. Just lay down on your stomach.”

The feeling of his hands on your body had left your skin tingling and you were yearning to feel it again. So without questioning his intentions or making sure his eyes were really closed, you took off your top and lay down on the mattress. Spencer kneeled beside you and began working his skilled fingers over your entire back.

Any tightness from tired muscles slowly left your body but you felt another kind of tension growing in your core. When Spencer grazed the waistband of your shorts with his fingertips, a sigh escaped your throat. He didn’t say anything, instead he kept massaging you until there was no patch of skin on your back left unattended to.

The second time he brushed over your waistband gave away that he was doing it on purpose. For a moment you thought that he might slip his hands right beneath it to descend further down your body. That thought caused you to unwillingly press your thighs tightly together to soothe the aching between your legs.

Spencer must have noticed it, too, because he audibly let out a breath right at that moment. His hands were still on your back when a quiet moan left your mouth and you noticed that your hips had started moving ever so slightly, desperate to find some friction. You weren’t sure if Spencer had been watching you doing that until you halted those tiny motions.

“Don’t stop,” he purred. “You look so pretty like this.”

You turned your head enough to see him from the corners of your eyes. The hardness straining against his pajama pants was impossible to ignore but even more intriguing was the smirk spread over his face. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were dark and filled with lust. Seeing him like this suddenly let any restraint you had left vanish.

“Please, Spencer,” you begged him to keep going.

One of his hands found the side of your face to brush a strand of hair aside. He leaned down to place a soft kiss on your heated cheek before he whispered, “Tell me exactly what you want.”

Spencer’s hands were all you could think about. Every fiber of your body was longing for him and you felt like you might combust if he didn’t grant you relief anytime soon.

“Please continue and… go lower.”

In an instant his hands were on your backside, greedily grabbing your soft flesh through your shorts.

“Like that?” Spencer groaned.

You tilted your hips to press your butt against his hands and slowly opened your thighs before you whimpered, “Lower.”

As his fingertips wandered over your thighs you felt how your arousal began soaking through the fabric of your panties. His hands dared to move underneath your shorts, grazing along the apex of your thigh. It was not enough to soothe your aching but enough to drive you wild.

You moaned out his name before whining, “Take them off, please.”

“You’re so cute when you get all desperate,” he chuckled in response.

There was no more teasing then. When he finally grabbed the waistband of your shorts, you immediately lifted your hips so he could pull them down together with your panties. He reached between your thighs to finally touch you where you were burning for him.

The realization of how aroused you were let a groan escape his mouth. His fingertips glided through your folds before focussing on your most sensitive spot while he purred, "You're so fucking wet."

It was the first time you had ever heard him use a curse word, the sound of such crude language shooting through you like lightning. All your senses were on edge, you couldn't think about anything else but him.

The sensation of his fingers moving over your sensitive pearl was somehow too much and not enough at the same time. You hadn't realized that you were grinding your hips against his hand until his words brought you back to reality for a moment.

"You deserve to feel so, so good. Let me take care of you."

At that you point you weren't even sure what you were begging for when an almost silent "Please," made it past your lips. Spencer, however, seemed to understand. He let two of his digits enter you, finding no resistance from your body. As soon as you felt him inside you, you couldn't help but clench around him.

Slowly he began working his fingers against tight muscles at an angle that made you almost lose your mind. There was no more holding back the sounds of pleasure falling from your lips, so you buried your face into the pillow to muffle your moans.

You felt Spencer's free hand brushing over your hair while he whispered, "Don't hide those sounds from me. I want to hear you."

With that you turned your head to the side again, just enough to be able to see his beautiful face. His smile was too much for you to handle, so you decided to close your eyes instead.

The room filled with your moans and mewls and the sound of his hand relentlessly moving against your wet center. Within just a few minutes you were dancing along the edge of euphoria. Spencer noticed that, too.

"You're doing so good," he praised you. "Let go for me, sweet girl."

You felt him moving over your swollen nub one more time before your body began to tremble beneath him. He helped you ride out your high with a few more skillful motions before he lay down right beside you.

When he found your eyes, he whispered, "You okay?"

Instead of answering him, you grabbed his wrist to bring his fingers to your lips. They were still coated with your essence when you took them in your mouth to suck them clean. Spencer stared at you in disbelief, almost as if he was witnessing some kind of miracle.

You could still taste yourself on your tongue when you found his lips in a hungry kiss. He didn't waste any time to reciprocate your enthusiasm, his tongue meeting yours as the two of you melted into one another. There was no space allowed between the two of you, with your chest pressed hard enough against his you could feel his accelerated heartbeat.

His palms began wandering over your exposed skin as if he'd never have enough of touching you. Your hand became curious as well, moving underneath the hem of his shirt to finally feel him without any barrier. It wasn't enough though, you needed all of him.

With joined forces you rid him of his clothes and took a moment to take in the beauty of the man in front of you. As your eyes locked once more you found the sweetest smile spread over his face.

"You're so pretty," you breathed before kissing him again.

"And you're so beautiful," he mumbled against your lips.

His hardness was pressed firmly against your thigh and you could already feel the tip leaking onto your skin. A sneaky hand found its way between your bodies to touch him. Your fingertips found soft curls at the base of him before wrapping around his shaft. He felt hot and heavy in your palm and you noticed him twitching when you began moving your hand.

Spencer gasped into your mouth once you reached his tip and his whole body quivered when you let your thumb swipe over it. Your kiss was interrupted by him panting against your face as you sped up your motions.

"Look at who is getting desperate now," you teased him.

He already seemed lost in the pleasure when he whimpered, "Feels so good."

Your hand left his erection to push against his shoulder until he was lying on his back while you snickered, "You know what would feel even better?"

As you began straddling his hips, Spencer's hands flew to your waist.

He still needed reassurance before he let you continue. "Are you sure about this?"

You nodded and promised, “I want you Spencer.”

"I want you, too. More than you can imagine."

With your hand around his cock you lifted your hips to guide him to your entrance. As you sank down on him, Spencer moaned out your name. You took your time, relishing the sensation of him slowly stretching you open. Once he was fully inside, you could feel his heartbeat deep within you.

As you began grinding your hips against him, his hands moved from your waist to your breasts to caress your soft curves.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted you,” Spencer sighed.

You leaned down to find him in a kiss before you whispered against his mouth, "You have me now. I'm yours."

His hips began moving in perfect synchronicity with yours as you chased the sweet relief together. When you began moving faster, Spencer suddenly gripped your hips to halt your motions.

"I'm so close. Slow down," he whined with desperation clearly audible in his voice.

That didn't slow you down, though. Instead you purred, "Me, too," and kept going. Spencer threw his head back into the pillows and sang your praise in the form of his moans. You tried to hold on just a little bit longer, not to torture him but because you didn't want it to end yet.

When one of his hands descended from your hip to where your bodies were joined, you knew that it wouldn't be long now. He began drawing small circles with his thumb around your little bud, throwing you over the edge within a few seconds. Once he felt your walls pulsing around him, he let go himself.

Each of your twitches was answered by him throbbing inside you, sharing his essence with you until he had nothing left to give. Spencer welcomed you inside his arms as you collapsed on top of him with a racing heart and lungs longing for air.

You stayed connected for as long as physically possible but once he was soft, you felt him slowly slipping out of you together with the mixed evidence of your shared desire. Spencer insisted on helping you clean up the mess between your legs and was quick to get a damp towel from the bathroom.

Watching him carefully rid you of any remaining stickiness somehow felt even more intimate than anything you had done before. Neither of you bothered to put clothes back on, instead you cuddled up under the comforter together to savor the sensation of having each other near.

When you thought back to what led you into Spencer's arms earlier tonight, you couldn't hold back your giggles.

"Maybe I should read that book you mentioned."

"You can, if you want," Spencer chuckled before he began kissing along your neck. When he found your ear, he whispered, "I'd much rather show you everything it says, though."

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scuderiahoney · 5 months

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In From The Rain

Oscar Piastri x plant nerd!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Oscar’s looking for an easy to care for houseplant. You have just the solution. Check out the moodboard here!

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: none

The greenhouse is quiet in the early morning. It’s one of your favorite things. Before the customers come in, looking for flowers for their porch or vegetable plants for their gardens, it’s just you and the plants and the sun streaming in through the glass. So when somebody interrupts your morning solitude, you’re not exactly happy about it.

Sure, you’re technically open, but nobody ever gets here this early. You’re watering plants in your rain boots, a mug of coffee in your hand, when the front door swings open. You turn to look, the noise startling you.

The man who walks in looks sheepish when his eyes meet yours. He ducks under a hanging basket, nearly trips over your garden hose. His cheeks flush red. You’d be more irritated with his presence if he wasn’t being so cute about it.

“Sorry, the- the sign said open,” he says, backing towards the door.

“You’re fine. We are open,” you affirm, flicking off the sprayer before you drown the petunias in front of you. “I was just surprised to see someone in here so early.”

He laughs. It’s a nice sound. Almost as nice a sound as his voice, with an Australian accent. He stops backing away. You should probably point out that he’s standing in a puddle, but you’re not sure if that’s really your place.

“Can I help you find something?” You ask.

He takes a step forward. A thick band of sunlight shines down on the top of his head, like a halo. He brushes his floppy hair from his face.

“No, that’s okay. You’re busy, I’ll just have a look around,” he says.

You nod. “Let me know if you have any questions.”

You turn back to the flower trays in front of you. They’ll need pruning, soon. And some of the hanging baskets are getting a bit unruly- it’ll likely be time to put them on sale in the next few days, to open up space for new plants. You can hear the man walking around behind you, peering at the plants. His footsteps are hesitant, and when you look, he has his hands held behind his back. He leans close to read the signs, brows tightly wound.

He obviously has no idea what he’s looking for.

You put the hose away and set your nearly empty coffee down at your workstation in the back of the greenhouse. Then you make your way back up to the front, where he’s standing near the succulents.

“Sure you don’t want help?” You ask.

He looks up with a sheepish grin. “Is it that obvious that I’ve got no idea what I’m doing?”

“A bit,” you say, and he laughs again. “That’s okay, though. It’s what I’m here for. What are you looking for?”

He stands up straight, eyes dancing over the greenhouse. “So. I’ve been told my apartment is boring. A friend suggested a plant to liven up the space.”

You nod. A tale as old as time. He’ll either kill the plant within a week or fill his whole place with them.

“But I’m gone a lot for work,” he says. “Like, a lot. So I need something that won’t wilt the second I’m gone, you know?”

You nod. “Does your apartment get good light?”

He laughs. “I don’t know what good light means.”

“Which direction do your windows face?”

“South,” he says, confidently. “Google said that was good. Right?”

You fight a laugh. He’s a bit adorable. Trying very hard to get it right. Like this is a test with right and wrong answers.

“Yeah, south facing is great.” You gesture towards the succulents. “You could get a succulent. They can go weeks without watering, but they need lots of light.”

He nods in understanding and purses his lips. “I thought these were cactuses. Or cacti?”

“Close,” you tell him, and he smiles again. “Cacti are the ones with the spikes.”

He nods in understanding. He crouches down, then, eye levels with the little plants. Your heart is melting. You scuff one of your rain boots against the ground. You could stand here and watch the way his long eyelashes flutter as he blinks all day, but that would be creepy and you have a job you’re supposed to be doing.

“How do I know which one to get?” He says, quietly. “Like… there are so many different kinds.”

Your face breaks out into a huge grin. He’s so endearing. “I think you’ll know when you see it.”

He appears at the front cash register ten minutes later, a succulent in hand. It’s a little one, the perfect starter plant. He’s eyeing the decorative pots next to you, brows furrowed again.

“Those are too big for that plant,” you tell him, and he breathes out a sigh. “There are smaller ones on the other side of the display.”

He moves to look. You hear him shuffling, hear him pick up pots and then set them down. Then he appears again, a little pot with black and white checkerboard print on it in his other hand.

“Perfect,” you say softly. “Have you got potting soil?”

He clears his throat. “Um. No, but I’ve got a courtyard at my apartment with a garden… but I’m sensing from the look on your face that that won’t do.”

You roll your eyes playfully. Then you reach under the counter and grab one of the small sample bags of potting soil you keep on hand.

“Here. On the house.” You say. “So you can put that plant in the pot.”

“Wow. Thanks,” he says. He sets the other items down on the counter. “Thanks for all your help, actually.”

“Just doing my job,” you say with a shrug.

You bag the items carefully, making sure the plant won’t be squished. You put a care instruction sheet in the bag, too. Then you slide it to him with a smile.

“There’s a care sheet in there that should help. Enjoy your new plant,” you say. “I hope it works out.”

“Me too,” he says.

He leaves, then, and you’re left with your quiet greenhouse once again. It’s odd. Usually you breathe a sigh of relief after a customer leaves. But this time, you almost want him to come back.

…..

Two weeks later, you’re back at your workstation re-potting a sad looking philodendron. You look up from it when you hear the bell over the front door ring. The watering is already done, the hose put away, so there’s nothing for the man to trip over this time. But it is the same guy, and he ducks under the hanging basket the same way. You should maybe move it, but he seems to be the only one who’s had an issue with it. You stand up, wiping the dirt from your hands on your apron.

“You didn’t kill that succulent already, did you?” You call out.

His eyes dart to meet yours, and he laughs. “No! Promise.”

“Good. That would be a new record,” you laugh.

You let him wander the store on his own for a few minutes as you get the philodendron correctly in the new pot. Then you give it some water and take it with you to set it back out on the shelf. He’s still the only other person in the store, and he’s currently eyeing the flats of flowering plants.

“It’s actually going really well,” he says as you walk by. “He has a new leaf.”

That’s when you know the guy is hooked. He has a new leaf. The plant is no longer just a plant to him. Absent-mindedly, you wonder if he’s the type to name his plants. You set the one in your hands down on the table in front of you, your back to him so he doesn’t see your wide grin. When you turn around, you tone it down.

“That’s great,” you say encouragingly. “So I’m guessing you want another one?”

He nods, rubbing his finger over the leaf of a fiddle leaf fig. “Yeah, but I’m thinking something different this time. Something bigger.”

“You don’t want that one,” you say, and he backs away from the fig tree slightly. “Fiddle leafs are notoriously dramatic. If you left her for a week she’d drop all her leaves.”

He sighs and stands up. “What would you suggest?”

You wave him over to another area of the store. He follows eagerly, footsteps splashing in the leftover puddles from the morning watering. You lead him to a section of spiky, tall plants.

“Snake plant,” you say, pointing at them.

He’s standing next to you, and your shoulders just barely brush. A shiver runs down your spine. You try to hide it.

“Snake plant,” he repeats. “The name makes sense.”

“People also call them mother in law’s tongue,” you add. You fight the urge to check his ring finger. “But if you’ve got a mother in law I’d suggest avoiding that name.”

He laughs, and his shoulder bumps into your again. “I don’t. But snake plant sounds cooler.”

You nod in agreement. “They do well with very little water. And, they can do okay in pretty low light, too. So if you’ve got a darker area that needs a plant, it would be a good fit.”

He’s up at the register ten minutes later, plant and a pot in hand. This one is plain terracotta. You like that he’s the type of person to buy the pots, too. Some people just leave them in the boring plastic, and it makes you sad to think about. All plants deserve a nice home. You say that to him as you ring him up, and he laughs. He’s also grabbed a small bag of potting soil this time.

Your repeat the process, same as last time, and hand him the bag. He takes it, and then he hesitates.

“Thanks again,” he says, juggling the bag until it’s held in one arm. He sticks his hand out to you. “I’m Oscar, by the way.”

You tell him your name, though you’re sure he could read it off your nametag, too. When you shake his hand, you swear the warmth of it runs all the way up your arm. He thanks you again, and then he disappears out the door once again. That ache is back in your chest. You find yourself hoping he’ll be back soon.

…..

He does come back. Multiple times. He buys more succulents on one trip, asking you to help him choose between them, and then he ends up buying all three instead. Another morning he comes in and you show him a ZZ plant you’ve just gotten in that you think will be perfect for him- you don’t tell him you’ve been saving it for him at your work station. It’s just… you know it’ll look great next to the snake plant he bought.

Each time he comes to the store, he hangs around a little longer. You chat about the weather, about the plants in the store, about his plants at home. You tell him funny stories about other customers and complain to him about the rude ones. In return, he tells you about his coworkers, specifically one named Lando who he seems to get into a lot of mischief with. He hasn’t said what he does for work. You field weird about asking, so you don’t.

The 4th time he stops by, you suggest a pothos. He eyed the leaves and vines skeptically.

“The other ones looked tough, you know? Like they’d survive even if I fucked up.” He tugs at one of the vines. “Are you sure about this one?”

You nod encouragingly. “You can handle it. I promise. Plus, the cool thing about these is you can cut parts of the vines, like this,” you say, holding up one you’d taken from the workstation. “And then you stick it in water for a bit, it grows roots, and you’ve got a whole new plant.”

He raises his eyebrows. “That’s cool.”

“I know,” you laugh.

He joins you up at the front to buy the plant. You go through the same routine. This time, he’s picked out a pretty blue ceramic pot for it. It compliments the leaves well. Then he leans on the counter and the two of you start chatting. You’d had a shipment that came in last week with a bunch of dead plants, so you regale him with the story of trying to deal with the company’s customer service. In turn, he tells you a story about his family back home- one of his sisters had a dance recital, his mother tried to videotape it for him, he received a video of his mother’s face as she watched the recital. You don’t realize how long the two of you have been talking until Jane, the next person on the schedule, walks in.

You stand up straight, face growing hot suddenly. “Hi, Jane!”

“Hi, hun,” she says, walking past the two of you. “Sorry I’m late. Bet you’re dying for your lunch break.”

She’s late? You and Oscar must’ve been talking for… forever. It had felt like only minutes. He smiles sheepishly and pushes away from the counter.

“Well, I should be going,” he says, taking the bag in his arms. “Thanks again!”

You watch him walk out the front door, unsure why it feels like you’ve been caught. It reminds you of the feeling you’d gotten years ago, when your teacher found you and the boy you had a crush on in the hallway alone. You hadn’t been doing anything wrong, but it still makes you feel strange.

“Friend of yours?” Jane asks when you walk past her to take your break.

You blink, shrugging. “I think he might be.”

…..

Oscar always comes in on Tuesdays. You avoid taking Tuesdays off and won’t admit to yourself that he’s the reason why. But when you wake up with a raging fever and a pounding head, you know you have to call in. Jane, always a sweetheart, takes your shift. When you see her two days later, it’s after you’ve already done the opening shift.

“Did you see your plant?” She asks as she breezes through the greenhouse.

You shut off the hose you’d been using to water a particularly thirsty chrysanthemum. “What plant?”

“The one your friend brought,” she says, and you only feel more confused. “He dropped it off Tuesday, said he was looking for you. It’s on the desk.”

You walk over to the workstation. Sure enough, in a tiny plastic pot- likely one from one of the succulents he’d bought-there’s a small pothos vine growing. You pick up the little plant, knocking over the piece of paper propped up on it in the process. You reach for it, finding a note written in rushed, messy scrawl.

I know you’ve probably got tons, but it felt right that you would have my very first propagation. Learned that word from the internet. Feel better soon! -Oscar

You turn to look at Jane. She’s at the register, not paying you any attention. You cradle the tiny plant close to your chest and do the same with the note. Then you tuck the paper away for safekeeping.

The plant, however, you carry with you all day. You place it in a sunbeam at the front register. When it catches your eye every so often, you feel a warmth in your chest.

…..

The next time Oscar comes in, he eyes the little plant at the register. You’ve stuck a little stake in it and tied a bow on top. He smiles softly and turns back to the display of pots. He chooses a tiny one with checkerboard print, the same as his very first purchase. You ring him up for all his items, but when you go to put that one in the bag, he grabs it and shakes his head. He slides it towards your tiny vine.

“For your plant,” he says, smiling softly.

You break into a face splitting grin. “You’re too sweet.”

His fingers brush against yours when you take it from him. You swear you feel sparks. You wonder if the red cheeks he sports as he leaves the store means he felt it, too.

…..

Another man comes into the shop early in the morning. It’s a Wednesday this time. You know it won’t be Oscar because of that, but you still look up eagerly. The guy nods, waving politely. You smile and go back to your watering. He walks the aisles, looking at the plants and never picking them up.

“Excuse me?” He says, after you’ve put the hose away. You turn, trying to hide your surprise at his American accent. “Um. Could you tell me where the succulents are?”

You grin and nod, walking over towards the area. You point them out.

“These right here,” you say. “Anything I can help you with?”

He stares at the tiny plants. “I have no idea what I’m doing. My friend, he’s gotten really into plants, and he talks about this shop all the time. Figured I’d see what the hype was all about.”

You tilt your head. He’s probably not, but it almost sounds like he’s talking about Oscar. You try and shake the idea from your head. Oscar is just a customer, he’s not going around and telling his friends about the greenhouse he goes to. He’s definitely not telling them about you.

“Succulents are a good place to start,” you say.

He sighs. “I don’t have much of a green thumb. I don’t think I’ll be very good at this.”

“Well, it’s worth a try.” You say with a shrug. “You might surprise yourself.”

He ends up picking out a little succulent. He doesn’t go for a decorative pot. He seems wholly unconfident in his ability to keep it alive for more than a few days. Still, he smiles as he’s leaving. He pauses in the doorway.

“You know, I thought Oscar was exaggerating when he told me about you,” he says. “But I get it now.”

He’s out the door before you can even form a syllable, let alone a word or a sentence. You think about chasing after him and asking what the hell that even means, but you stay rooted there. Oscar talks about you. To his friends. You swear your heartbeat doesn’t slow all morning, and the heat in your cheeks stays there all day.

…..

Oscar comes rushing into the shop the next Tuesday. He has a brown paper bag in his arms, and his eyes are wide. He’s breathing heavily, like he’s been running. You stand up, setting the garden hose down. He nearly slips on a puddle as he rushes over to you, and you reach out to steady him.

“I just got home last night,” he rushes, “and something’s wrong with- with Greg.”

“Greg?” You ask, leaning to peer into the bag.

“My succulent,” he says. His cheeks have gone red. “I name my plants. Is that weird?”

You laugh. “No, it’s not.”

You don’t tell him you’ve named your tiny pothos vine after him. You take the bag from his arms and walk to the back of the store, towards the work station. You reach in and pull out the succulent. It’s a little withered, a bit droopy. It’s also doubled in size since he bought it.

“I’ve been watering him when the soil gets dry,” he says, “and he’s still getting sunlight. I’ve tried everything- I left music playing for them when I left, so-“

Your eyes flicker up to him. He plays music for his plants. He’s the cutest man you’ve ever met. You want to take his face in your hands and kiss his forehead. Or his lips. He has these cute little freckles and moles- you’d like to draw constellations between them. Your face feels hot again. You direct your attention back to the plant as he rambles on. You frown, tugging slightly to see the roots.

“Osc, babe,” you interrupt, and he stops and stares at you. “He’s just a little root bound.”

You don’t dwell on the fact that you’ve just called him babe. It’s too late now.

“What’s that mean?” He asks, the panicky tone still in his voice.

“It means,” you start, nudging his side softly with your elbow, “that you’ve taken such good care of him that he’s outgrown this pot. He needs more soil. More room to spread out.”

His shoulders drop. The panic melts off his face. “Oh.”

You laugh. “God, I can’t believe when you came in here the first time you had no idea what a succulent even was. And now here you are, all panicked over a little wilting. You’ve become a true plant nerd, haven’t you?”

He shrugs sheepishly. “Maybe.”

“It’s cute,” you tell him, just to watch the blush creep up on his cheeks again. “Come on, let’s get him a new pot and some fresh soil.”

You lead him up to the front. He starts to pick through the display, holding the succulent up to the different options until he finds the right one. It’s a light orange.

You nod in approval. “Now you’ve got an empty pot,” you say, pointing at the original pot for the succulent. “Which means if you want, you have an excuse to buy another plant.”

“You’re so smart,” he says, eyes wide.

He rushes over to the display of succulents. While he’s picking one out, you carefully re-pot the plant into its new home. He takes his time, like always, indecisive to the very end. When he makes it up to the counter, he grins widely at the sight of the plant in its new pot.

“Thanks,” he says, softly. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

…..

When Oscar comes into the shop on a particularly rainy Tuesday, you’re trying hastily to hide your tears. He doesn’t come in every week, but it’s just your luck that he’s here today of all days. You wave and turn your back to him, sticking to the workstation. You hear the soft fall of his tennis shoes, though, even over the sound of the rain against the greenhouse roof, and you know he’s making his way towards you.

“Everything okay?” He asks, voice low.

You turn and find him with his hands in his jeans pockets. You wipe at your cheeks hastily, hoping he can’t tell how upset you are, but knowing you look a wreck. Your hair is soaked in rainwater, and your eyes likely red rimmed and puffy. It’s confirmed when his soft smile drops into a frown.

“I’ve had a shit morning,” you tell him with a sigh.

He pulls one hand from his pocket. “You, uh. You have dirt on your cheek.”

You groan and try to brush it away. Oscar chews on his lower lip. Then he reaches out, his fingertips sweeping against the skin of your face. His hand is warm, despite the chill in the air. Tiny sparks seem to spread across your skin, following the trail of his touch. Your face grows hot.

“There,” he says.

“Thanks,” you reply.

He nods. “What’s going on? If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to, but…”

You sigh and turn away slightly, back to the plant in the pot in front of you. His gaze is so warm that you can’t stand to look at him, afraid you might start crying all over again.

“Just. Woke up late, so I was in a rush. And then I locked my car key in the car because I forgot something in the flat, and my mum has the spare key and she’s not even awake yet, so I had to walk here in the rain. And I couldn’t find my umbrella.” You brush a wet piece of hair away from your forehead. “And I slept like shit, and haven’t had any caffeine because I was late. So, yeah.”

“Shit morning,” Oscar agrees.

You nod. You finally turn to look at him again. There’s a soft look on his face, one you can’t quite place. He reaches out, places his hand flat on the counter next to yours. If you shifted your thumb just slightly, you could touch his. You want to, but you don’t.

“Sorry, I- Can I help you find anything?” You ask, blinking at him.

“You don’t need to be sorry, I asked,” he says. He rocks back on his heels and pulls his hand back. “I actually just remembered, I’m- I have to- I’ll be right back.”

He turns around and walks quickly to the front of the store. The bell dings as he walks out through the front door. You stare at the spot where his hand had been for just a moment and feel your heart shatter in your chest. You’d gone and over shared with your favorite customer, the one you thought might actually be your friend, and now you’ve scared him off. Yet another tally to add to the shit morning. You collapse into the chair behind the counter and rest your head in your hands, trying to will the tears away.

You’re not sure how long goes by before you hear the bell over the door again. And really, nobody comes in this early, so why are they choosing today of all days? You hastily wipe your face on the sleeve of your sweatshirt and stand up, plastering a smile onto your lips to greet whoever is in the store.

Your heart stutters in your chest. It’s… Oscar. He’s walking towards you, though he’s not looking at you. He has three takeout coffee cups balanced precariously in his hands. His hair matches yours now, soaking wet and hanging over his forehead. You burst into laughter as he sets them down.

“Oh my god, I thought I scared you off,” you say, brushing a stray tear from the corner of your eye.

“No,” he says, eyes wide. “You said you needed caffeine. There’s a coffee shop just down the road.”

You laugh and press your hands to the counter, leaning towards the cups. “Three cups?”

He smiled sheepishly. “I got you coffee, but I didn’t know if you wanted cream or sugar. So,” he points at the smallest of the three cups, “this is cream,” he says while digging in his pockets. Then he places an assortment of sugar packets on the counter. “And here’s sugar. The other cup is mine.”

You grin at him, shaking your head. “I knew you were my favorite customer for a reason.”

The smile he gives you in return is bright enough to make up for the lack of sun, to wash away the rain clouds, to warm your cold hands. You open the lid to the coffee and pour a bit of cream in, and then add two sugars. Oscar watches, nodding.

“I’ll know for next time,” he says.

Your heart flutters in your chest. Next time. You like the sound of that. You wrap your hands around the paper cup and let the warmth seep into your fingers before you take a sip. You sigh happily, meeting his eyes over the lid. The cup in his hand has something written on it in messy pen. You wonder if the barista tried to give him their number, and you fight back the jealous feeling at the thought.

“Thank you,” you say, softly.

“It’s no biggie,” he insists. “I owed you anyway, for saving Greg.”

He hangs out for a while that morning, leaning on your counter and chatting. You re-pot some plants and then bring them out to the displays, and he follows along. There’s something about his presence alone that warms you up from the inside out. By the time he looks at his watch and curses, muttering about having a meeting, you’re feeling much better. His hand brushes your shoulder before he leaves. You call after him to thank him again for the coffee.

He stops in the doorway, rain falling on his arm that’s extended to hold the door open. “I’ll see you soon!”

Then he disappears into the storm.

…..

You don’t see him soon. It’s not abnormal for Oscar to go a couple weeks without stopping in, so at first you don’t think much of it. Each Tuesday, though, you look up eagerly when the bell over the door rings, and your heart sinks when it’s not him. Maybe you really did over share, maybe he did get scared off. You try not to think about it.

It’s just… he was cute, and kind, and fun to talk to. He brought you coffee. You wonder how his plants are doing, if he’s still playing music for them while he’s gone. You have fleeting images in your brain of him watering the plants, taking the time to look for new leaves and check the roots. You almost wish he’d have another plant emergency, just to give him a reason to stop back in.

Eventually, after a month goes by and he hasn’t been back, you give up almost entirely. You’ll move on eventually, find a new favorite customer. You couldn’t have expected him to keep coming around forever, after all. To him, you were just another retail worker.

You do end up seeing his American friend one more time. He comes in on a Wednesday morning, just like before. He doesn’t stop and look at any of the plants, instead beelining for you. You’re working on bagging some potting soil and watch him with wide eyes.

“Hi,” you say. “Can I help you find something?”

“No, I just-“ he cuts himself off, shaking his head. “I super killed that succulent.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re Oscar’s friend, right? He didn’t help you?”

The guy shakes his head. “He made fun of me, though. Said I overwatered it.”

“How is he, anyways?” You ask.

Logan frowns. “He’s good.”

You nod. “Well, d’you want to try again?”

“No, that’s not why I-“ he sighs, rubbing his temples. “He won’t shut up about you, you know.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Find that hard to believe, since he hasn’t been here for almost a month.”

Which is maybe a little mean spirited. And probably not something you should be saying to his friend. You wince.

Now it’s his turn to blink wildly. “So you miss him too?”

You squint at him. “Why are we having this conversation? I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Logan,” he says. “You haven’t like… reached out to him or anything?”

“How would I?” You ask. “I don’t even know his last name, let alone his phone number.”

“His last name’s Piastri.”

“That feels like information you shouldn’t be giving away to strangers.”

He’s not listening, though. Something seems to have clicked in his head. His eyes go wide and he starts to back away.

“I have to go,” he says. “Thanks!”

You’ve had a lot of strange interactions while working retail, but that one comes in pretty high on the list. And it leaves you wondering about Oscar, which is something you’re trying desperately not to do. All in all, not a great day.

…..

Two weeks later, you clock out of your Tuesday shift around lunchtime and head down the street. It’s raining again, but at least this time you’re armed with a raincoat and an umbrella. Your car is parked nearby, but you’re in the mood for coffee and warm food, so you head to the cafe nearby. You try not to think about the time Oscar had brought you coffee from there. You can’t help picturing his soft smile, eyes trained on the cups balanced precariously in his hands.

You make it halfway to the cafe before a gust of wind hits your umbrella at just the right angle and snaps the metal supports. Then, as if the universe is playing a cruel trick on you, a car speeds by on the road next to you, hits a puddle, and sprays you with muddy water. It soaks through your clothes and onto your skin nearly immediately. You fight the urge to ball your hands into fists and yell dramatically at the sky.

“Shit,” someone says, and the sound of his voice makes your breath catch in your chest. Then he says your name.

You turn, coming face to face with Oscar. Well. Okay. He’s studying you with a pained look on his face and standing under an umbrella.

“Yeah, shit,” you mutter, shaking water from your hands. “Oh my God. Hi, by the way. It’s been a bit.”

“It has,” he agrees, shuffling closer to hold the umbrella over you. “Here. Um. You okay?”

You shrug. “S’just water. I won’t melt.”

Oscar laughs- god, you’ve missed that sound- and nudges your shoulder. “You’ve got bad luck with rainstorms, huh?”

You nod. You’re trying not to freak out at the fact that he’s here. Oscar is standing next to you, holding his umbrella over your head. He’s here and he’s talking to you and he’s feeling sympathetic, which maybe means he doesn’t think you’re completely crazy.

“S’what I get for trying to go get coffee,” you say over the sound of raindrops on the umbrella. “And lunch. Now I’ve got to drive home like this.”

Oscar frowns, his whole face crumpling with it. “Hey, you know… I live just a block down. If you want, you could come and change into some dry clothes.”

Your mother would kill you for even considering it. You can practically hear her yelling in your head. But god, it’s Oscar. It’s Oscar and you haven’t seen him in a month and you might never see him again. There’s something about the soft look on his face that makes you trust him.

“Okay,” you say, quietly. “That would be… really nice. But only if you’re sure.”

“Of course,” he says.

Your shoulders brush as you walk, the umbrella over both of your heads. The two of you are nearly silent on the walk there. It’s like neither of you quite know what to say. You know you don’t. You worry he’s regretting inviting you to his place. But he lets you in the front door, leads you to the elevator, and all the way up to flat. When he opens the door, warm air pours over you like a river. You step in and toe off your boots, wincing at the squish of your wet socks.

Oscar winces, too. “Here, the bathroom’s right there,” he says, pointing at a partially open door. “I’ll go grab you some dry clothes. There’s towels in there too.”

You nod and step into the room. So far, the little bit of his apartment that you’ve seen matches up with what he’s told you. There are no shoes sitting out in the entryway. The bathroom is nearly spotless, which makes you feel a bit guilty about the dirty rainwater you’re dripping onto the floor. Oscar’s only gone long enough for you to take off your jacket.

He knocks on the door. “I’ve got clothes for you.”

You open the door, and he’s standing there, eyes squeezed shut. The clothes are held out in midair, like he’s trying to keep his distance. You laugh and take them, murmuring out a thanks. As you go to change, you hear him walk away.

You shuck your wet clothes off and drop them in the tub, shivering when the air hits your bare skin. You wipe the rainwater from your skin. Then you pull on the clothes he gave you- a t-shirt, a hoodie, and a pair of sweatpants. Plus a pair of thick, warm looking socks. All of them are baggy on you, but luckily the pants have a drawstring so you can pull them tight around your hips. You wring the water out of your hair with the towel and then wrap it around your shoulders before you step out into the hallway.

You can hear him moving around in the next room, so you head there. He’s standing at the kitchen island, which is open to the living room. He looks up when he hears you walk in, and a soft smile spreads across his face. His living room is neat and tidy, too. His plants are all lined up on the windowsill. You recognize them all from your store, and you smile.

“D’you have a plastic bag I can put my clothes in?” You ask, and he tilts his head at you. “I don’t wanna get more rainwater on your floor. Or in my car, really.”

“I mean, sure,” he says with a shrug. “Or… you could throw them in the washer. Hang out for a bit.”

He’s not looking at you anymore. You’re glad, because you’re sure you have a dumbfounded look on your face. It’s then that you notice the coffee machine running on the counter behind him, and the snacks out on the counter. Your mind is racing. He hasn’t stopped by the shop in nearly a month, but now…

“I don’t want to be a bother,” you say, unsure what else there is to possibly say.

He shakes his head, still not looking up. “You’re not.”

You cast your eyes to the window. It’s raining harder now. And god, you’ve missed him. You didn’t realize just how much until you were standing here.

“It’s been a while,” he says, turning his back to you when the coffee maker beeps. “We have some catching up to do.”

You think about letting it go. Maybe it’s enough to be here. Maybe you just shouldn’t bring it up. But really, you’re confused about the fact that he stopped coming to the store.

You tilt your head at him. “Yeah, you stopped coming in.”

“Well, you never texted me,” he says. “So I figured I’d freaked you out or something. But then Logan said he stopped by and you asked about me-“

You stare at the back of his head, bewildered, and you break in. “Oscar, I don’t have your number.”

He freezes, hand in midair, reaching for a coffee mug. He turns his head over his shoulder, and his eyes meet your again. He looks just as confused as you feel. Suddenly, your heart is racing in your chest.

“I wrote it on the coffee cup,” he says, voice quiet.

You stare at him, wide eyed. “There was nothing on my coffee cup.” He shakes his head, opens his mouth, but you keep talking. “I’m sure of it. But there was writing on yours. I know because I wondered if the barista was trying to give you her number.”

Oscar just stares at you for a moment, his lips barely parted. “Shit. I gave you the wrong cup.”

Shit, you repeat in your head. He tried to give you his number. He thought he gave you his number, and then you never texted him. He thought you rejected him. No wonder he stopped coming in.

“You could’ve just asked me for my number, you know,” you tell him.

“Yeah, but this was cuter,” he says. “It was- it was my number and this cheesy ass pickup line that Logan helped me think of and I- I really thought you just didn’t…”

“Pickup line?”

“Looking back it sounds stupid,” he admits. “But yeah. I was trying to ask you out on a date. And so when you didn’t text me…”

You cross the room, walking right up in front of him. His hands have fallen to his sides. His eyes trace your face as you smile up at him. He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek, brows slightly furrowed. You can smell the coffee now- it reminds you of when he brought you the coffee weeks ago.

“You should ask me now,” you tell him, smiling brightly.

He nods. “Without the pickup line, though.”

You pout up at him. He grins. One of his hands comes up to the side of your face, fingers cupping your jaw. His thumb prods at your cheek.

“Will you go on a date with me?” He asks, voice low.

You pretend to think about it. Pretend it doesn’t make your heart melt just to hear him say it. “Hm. When?”

He shrugs, looks around. “How about now?”

“It’s raining,” you remind him.

“We can have a stay at home date,” he suggests. “Coffee, lunch, a movie, maybe.”

You tilt your head. “Sounds nice.”

“Yeah?” He says, sounding a bit like he doesn’t quite believe you.

“Yeah,” you agree. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out since the day we met.”

Oscar laughs and leans closer. “I’ve got a lot of time to make up for, then.”

He presses his lips to yours, and your eyes slip closed. You reach up and tangle your fingers in his hair to keep him close. He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear- it’s still wet from the rain, and both of you giggle into the kiss. His hands drop to your hips, shoving the sweatshirt out of the way to hold onto you. You could kiss him for hours, you think. It’s all you’ve wanted for months now.

The coffee is growing cold on the counter. Suddenly, though, you don’t need caffeine.

He pulls away slightly, looks you up and down. “You look cute in my clothes, you know.”

You giggle and tug on the sweatshirt, pointing at the orange logo on the chest. “Thanks. Big McLaren guy, are you?”

Oscar laughs and brushes his lips against your temple. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

Then he goes back to kissing you. You’re not complaining. You’ve got all the time in the world to learn all about him.

…..

Weeks later, you corner Logan at the British Grand Prix. Oscar’s distracted by interviews, but Logan’s not busy.

“What was the pickup line he wrote?” You ask, arms crossed over your chest.

Surprisingly, he needs very little convincing. He just laughs, eyes darting to where Oscar stands behind you in the media pen. His gaze is full of amusement.

“I be-leaf we’re meant to be,” he says in a teasing tone. “He was down bad.”

You laugh and turn over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend. He’s grinning watching the two of you talk. Later, you tease him for the cheesy line, for hiding behind coffee cups and scribbled pen when he could’ve just told you. He teases you for the same, for not telling him how you felt, for not making a move. And then you look at him, knowing your gaze is terribly soft.

“I believe it, too,” you tell him.

When he kisses you, you draw constellations between the freckles on his face with your thumb. Outside, it starts to rain.

a/n: can you tell I am a big plant nerd? anyways live laugh love oscar piastri I want to help him pick out plants :)

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me

#oscar piastri oneshot #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #formula one oneshot #formula one fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 oneshot #formula 1 x reader #oscar piastri #honeywrites #op81 #if you’ve made it this far in the tags somehow hi

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ohnonotthehorrors · 4 months

Text

You know, if any of the bats are going to kill the Joker: it should probably be Dick or Duke.

Like, I get it. 'Jason kills the Joker' sounds like the most obvious solution. But the thing is: Jason literally does not care about the Joker.

"But he's the man that killed him-" Sure. But that was a While ago. (At least if you ignore all the rebooting of the universe). Sure, Joker is a big symptom of what Jason sees as the problem. Which is: Crime needs to be controlled. Because more than anyone, he knows it won't be stopped. (It especially won't be stopped if no one is allowed to kill the bad guys).

But here's the thing. Jason's arc does not, and Should Not, revolve around Joker at all. Jason's story really never has been about revenge, and he should be Allowed to Move On from this one of the many people that hurt him. This isn't a: 'Oh Jason should learn to forgive and let go and not take revenge' this is a: 'the Joker is pathetic. Killing him just straight up doesn't do anything to Jason's arc or character.'

But Dick? Dick whose TRIED to kill the Joker? Dick who first donned the mask and tights to take revenge? Who wanted to make up for not being there for Jason? Yeah. This is the character that Would benefit from killing the Joker.

The first Robin has been around almost as long as the Joker has (both made in the same year) and it would be nothing more than divine justice for him to finally be the one to end him.

Well that's all well and good, you say. But what about Duke? What does he have to do with this?

You mean other than Duke being Awesome and he deserves to?

Duke's parents were hit by Joker gas. Pretty famously part of his character's back story. Duke has already killed a 'mirage' of Joker in the comics, which I think would be neat foreshadowing.

And think about it. The guy with light powers, the guy that works the day shift, by all means the Proof that Gotham really does care. Really does take things seriously. Why Shouldn't he get to kill off the personification of apathy?

Now the other point, and this is really just a personal vendetta, I would love Love the character that is Constantly ignored (at least by fandom) to kill off DCs 'specialist awful white man.'

The other person who should get to kill the Joker is Barbara Gordon (for self explanatory reasons) except I don't trust any writer to do it.

(She should get to beat that Thing into a white and red Pulp and shred his remains. No 'pull a trigger' no 'hire a swat team.' She gets to do it with her Bare Fists)

#do you see the vision?#I'm like barely in this fandom but the voices spoke to me #if this is too long and should have a 'keep reading' I apologize #jason todd #duke thomas #the signal #dick grayson #nightwing #batfamily #batfam #batsiblings #barbara gordon #babs gordon #oracle

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shinjisdone · 8 months

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When You Have An Secret Admirer - And Doubt Them

A love letter was left at your door and now you are searching for that ‘secret admirer’ - but you doubt it's true. Perhaps you don't believe it yourself or are trying to push the obvious infatution under the rug...whatever your reason may be, your dear classmates do not believe you.

Been feeling sick so here's a spin-off of the spin-off of your classmates replies when you say:

"I don't think anyone would like me like that..."

Raising his brow, he scoffed. "Ya don't get it. Listen, the only reason someone would go out of this daaaarn big way is either 'cuz they're a total idiot dork or have a massive big crush on you. And lucky you! For you both option are the case!" Sweat rolled down his jaw as he winked. -Ace

"Uhm," His mouth became dry and his eyes avoided yours. "I-I don't think - I mean, w-why wouldn't they? Like, the roses and chocalates...the notes and...mirror, I guess...that's all romantic. Y-You're a great person and...I'm sure that admirer thinks so, too." He wishes to say more but his tongue was tied. -Deuce

"Whuat? Of course they do! Have you seen the talks and Hearts on MagiCam? Some totally envy you!" His hand lowers to his pocket but decided against fishing out his phone. Instead, he threw his arm around your shoulder. "C'mon, juniour! Have a bit more confidence in yourself! Y'know, if it wasn't for your admirer, I would have long sent you these lovey-dovey stuff. Maybe in a different way though, haha!" -Cater

A sheepish chuckle escaped him. "Oh, come on. Don't be like that. It's clear as that day that someone fancies you and there's nothing wrong with that. You get your senior's allowance to indulge in the attention!" Laughing, he hoped he could ease the tension through his lies. -Trey

He cleared his throat. Something like this wasn't his forte. "I...am not an expert in...love and courting - Well, what I mean is that anyone can see that you are very much admired by someone. You are...a very great person so of course you'd be liked. When someone goes out of their way to break several rules like that, their affection must be greater than the Queen's for her little King." -Riddle

Clicking his tongue, he rolled over to his side. "Why are you making a fuss about that? You're gonna break your little head over this, herbivore. Why don't you stop this belittling and confront that little admirer yourself and find out? If you have the guts to go into the lion's den, then you can go and ask a coward that, too." -Leona

"Huh," For a moment, he avoided your gaze and the corner of his lips twitched. "Well, I dunno. Why shouldn't anyone? If no one liked yer guts, then they would have looooong ripped you off or something - good thing I was there all the time but nothin' happened even when I wasn't there - what I mean is, no, you are likable, dummy. Shihishi..." He cackled nervously. -Ruggie

"I wouldn't know anything about that." Quickly clearing his throat, he tried to hide his flushed face, "As in...I don't know if I would agree with you. Someone wouldn't just do this for fun...I don't know anyone, in and outside of NRC, who would do this for fun, so..." He scratched his neck and hoped you'd catch his intentions. -Jack

"Wha," Sheepish laughter rang, "Oh, why...of course you'd be! Why wouldn't you be...why wouldn't they..." His hands reached for the papers on his desk as he failed to sort them, "If there are any doubts...Monstro Longue can also provide solutions for that. But only for doubts...after all, you are l-likable..." -Azul

"Nonsense. I think you are quite charming. Or, could it be that you are playing the humble one? Trying to fool the rest while you are indulging in all the love your admirer provides?" A smarmy giggle. "I jest. But even so, that would make you even cuter." -Jade

Cackling rung. "Huuuh? Actually, yeah, you're right!" He giggled and squeezed in closer into your personal space. "You are such a lost cause, Shrimpy...ya should stick with peeps like me and Jade! Rather just with me, yeah? That admirer-schmirer has been gettin' on my nerves recently and I barely got any time to squeeze you...give up on this landpeople mambo-jambo and stick with me~. -Floyd

At first he blinked in confusion yet his shining grin came a second after. "No way. You're so great! And so interesting and fun and cute!" He almost seemed like his usual self until he noticed who you two were talking about. At that, his grin vanished. "Oh...well, if I can see that, then the admirer totally too! Maybe even more than me since they shower you in so many gifts..." -Kalim

"Well, obviously not since you got a good old secret admirer like from a rom-com." His smile crooked, he hoped you'd at least chuckle but he quickly corrected himself. Best if he doesn't continue to be this nonchalant. "I'm just kidding...though not about you likable. Give yourself more credit...you deserve it." -Jamil

"Huh? What's with that...self-pityin' party - I mean, as in, that ain't true. Yer a...fine and dandy person, I mean - why wouldn'tcha be??? That kinda talk is only gonna bring you down and yer better than that. Far, far, better. Hell, you got a flyin' mirror-" -Epel

Laughter echoed and you weren't sure if it was mocking at first. "Cher Trickster, could it be that these grande professions of love are not enough?! How can you still not see that you are the apple of someone's eye? Not even I could top that! Tell me, my dear, shall I be your second admirer to prove to you how lovely you are?" -Rook

He raised a brow. "Bring me my phone for a second. Should we go over the amount of attention I get from millions of people and compare them to the over-the-top admiration of your one and only admirer? They went out of the way to insult me to compliment you. You are someone's diamond, potato." -Vil

For a moment you wondered if he even heard you. Staying still as a candle, he tried his best to avoid your gaze while his face was flushed red. "...W-W-W-W-Wha-What do you ask m-me that...??? I-I mean, if there is someone unlikable here it would be m-me...y-y'know...?" He hoped you get what he means. -Idia

"According to data I collected requested by big bro - I mean, happened to collect, there is a 0000000.01% chance that you are unbelievable, unequally unlikable." -Ortho

"You think so?" He scratched his chin, "That kind of mindset is not going to get you far. In fact, I believe you do not understand how much comfort you bring by your mere presence. If you doubt it, I can always remind you of it." -Malleus

Laughing, he slapped his knee. "Seriously? You get the exact cookie-cutter version of a highschool secret admirer sweetheart! I read those in old-school manga! And you still doubt that?" He sighs, "Trust me, be a bit more confident. Amazing things can happen if you let them." -Lilia

"Hm? But...you are being admired. By afar, by someone who truly seems to treasure you. You are like a treasure if you see it that way...ah, nevermind me. Please, believe in yourself more. I do." -Silver

"Ugh, really now?! IF I can see it, then you should see it too! It's like you are covering your own eyes! You! Are! An! Object! Of! Affectioooooonnnn!!!" -Sebek

holy shit im never doing something like this in one post again hhuuuuuaaaaaaahh

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koolades-world · 3 months

Note

hello ^^

was wondering if youd be able to write something about the demon brothers (and maybe diavolo too) with mc whos a little dumb? as in they forget a lot of stuff (what day it is, where they put something only a few seconds ago, etc) and dont know a lot of things even if its obvious. theyre also a bit gullible and fall for fake news or scams a lot. basically a bimbo/himbo type of mc.

hi!! yeah sure thing!

actually went to google if there was a gender neutral version of bimbo himbo and apparently there actually is

presenting: thembo! haha I love this term

enjoy :)

Thembo/Himbo/Bimbo Mc

Lucifer

very protective of you

can't help but internally smile whenever you forget your train of thought or asks him what today's date is for the third time

if there's an unreliable news source that keeps finding it's way into your hands he sees personally that they mysteriously goes out of business

gotten surprisingly good at finding things you lost, like he'll just move one thing out of the way and what you're looking for will be there (big mom energy here)

Mammon

he's a himbo himself tbh

you're cut from the same cloth so you can be silly together

100% both of you will ask each other the time, check your D.D.D., and only leave that situation with what percent it's at so you have to check again and still don't have the time

you match each other's energy so well it's meant to be

Levi

he's not quite sure how to feel at first

he gets overwhelmed by the amount of questions you ask, but once you start asking questions about his games, you're instantly close

he doesn't mind repeating himself since you actually care about him

sometimes he forgets everything besides gaming so he gets it

Satan

if Mammon is your birds of a feather flock together, he's your opposite attract moment, even better than Lucifer

he always makes sure to let you know if something you've heard is fake or not and always makes it a lesson even though despite you listening, never seems to stick but that's ok he still loves you

however he loves how you embrace all of the things he loves even if you don't fully get it, like all the more complicated books he reads for fun

it's alright he has enough brains for the both of you lol

Asmo

sometimes he's very himbo so he has solutions to your problems

gives you a cute little invisible ink pen that activates when you stand or sit in spots you're in a lot to write on your arm with since regular ink isn't cute (solomon made it <3)

always asks you if you have everything before you leave the house with a checklist, and when you got home

please make sure to thank him!!

Beel

he also has the same oblivious nature, but he's more dense while you're more airhead

if you put your heads together (and with a little help from belphie) you can usually figure it out

will help you look for your D.D.D. while the both of you use the flashlight on your D.D.D.

ultimate duo fr

Belphie

he thinks you're so silly but tries to keep any playfully mean comments to a minimum

sometimes he can't help but poke fun at you but afterwards he always tells you he's sorry and tells you you're pretty

straight up puts tracking devices on important items that you handle everyday so that if you lose something, you can easily find it again, such as your toothbrush and textbooks

Diavolo

another sorta himbo, since he seems like he has no idea what he's doing but actually is very aware

if you lose something and really can't find it, no worries! he can just buy you a new one or have the Little D's search for it since they'll do anything to help you out

very understanding and sweet about it since he kinda gets it

the both of you can embrace this lifestyle together

#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me lucifer #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me mc

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talaok · 4 months

Text

His favorite patient

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

Summary: Your friend Pedro takes care of you while you're sick, and he's such a good doctor, that something sparks between the two of you.

warnings: reader being sick and having a fever (?) and my shitty writing cause im tired

(this was a request, and a very beautiful one too)

All you had done was text him that you were sick, and the next thing you knew, he was knocking at your door.

And that wasn't even the weirdest part, the weirdest part was that you weren't surprised, because that's how Pedro was, caring, protective, and always there for you, no matter what.

The first thing he'd done as you opened the door was scolding you for even being up, and consequently, the second was ushering you to your own couch and forcing you to sit down.

You laughed the whole time at how worried he was, but then again, your genuine gratitude shined through with his every act, a gentle smile and a "thank you" spilled out of your lips the moment he made you tea, or wrapped you up in a blanket, or pulled you into his chest when the cover stopped being enough.

You remained like that, hiding in his arm while watching tv for the whole afternoon, but unfortunately, after he'd made you some soup (which you had tried convincing you could cook on your own) and ate it with you, it was time for him to go.

So with a heavy heart and a final hug, he was gone... only to return 2 minutes later.

"Missed me already?" you joked, opening the door again

"Always" he smiled, before getting more serious "I have a problem with my car" he explained "It's not turning on, and I-" he scratched the back of his neck, trailing off "I kind of have no way of getting home"

"oh" you breathed, understanding the situation "You can just stay here" You shrugged, the solution obvious in your eyes

"Are you sure? I don't wanna be a burden or anythin-"

"a burden?" you frowned, stunned "What are you talking about Pedro, you could never be a burden" you promised, inviting him in again "and plus... I feel safer with my own personal doctor here with me" you grinned playfully

"yeah?" he laughed "Well then how could I refuse to help my favorite patient?"

"Favorite?" you gasped, feigning flatter as your right hand went to your heart "You're gonna make me blush doctor"

He snorted at that, his eyes lingering on yours for a second too long.

"Well then, the doctor's ordering bed rest"

You scowled at him, rolling your eyes

"I'm already starting to regret my decision" you muttered, but in no time, you were laid beneath the covers, ready to go to sleep.

"Ok then you're all set, I'll go prep the couch" he said, starting for the door

"what?" you asked

"the couch, I need to-"

You stopped him before he could go on

"You're not sleeping on the couch Pedro" you stated, watching his brows frown "It's uncomfortable as hell" you explained "and there's enough room here for the both of us" Your eyes went to the empty spot beside you

"Oh- no, y/n I can't"

"yes, yes you can" you interrupted him again "And you will" you decided "I'm sick, so that means you have to do whatever I tell you"

"sweetheart..."he sighed, glaring at you

"please" you pouted, "It would make me feel better knowing you're close to me" you pleaded, your best puppy eyes on you.

And what could Pedro do but not agree when you were looking at him like that? He was only a man after all.

"alright" he grumbled, "but I hope you know that means you'll have to hear me snore the whooole night"

But as it turns out, you didn't.

Your fever started going up the moment you shut off the lights, you turned and tossed the whole night, while him... he stayed up with you, checking your fever, giving you medicine and placing wet cold cloths on your forehead, until finally... you started feeling better and began drifting off... if only, of course, those damned church bells hadn't rung.

But even then, Pedro was there, placing his hands on your ears to try and protect you from the noise, and once they stopped, once he had gotten a taste of how good it felt to stay so close to you, well then he didn't have it in him to lean away, so he did the opposite: he put his arm around you and pulled you close, gently whispering "You need to rest", before inevitably, you did as told.

And it was only the morning after that you remembered all of it, it was only once you woke up, his arm still reassuringly around you, his words still reverberating in your ear, that you realized everything.

"good morning" he murmured, his head nestled into your neck

"morning" you smiled, your voice hoarse as you turned around to look at him, finding him but an inch from your face... and yet he didn't lean away.

"thank you" you whispered "for everything"

"darling I'm always gonna be here for you, whatever you need"

You smiled wide, watching his eyes fall to your lips

"stop it" you murmured

"stop what?" he laughed

"being so nice"

"why?" he asked, smiling

You bit your lip, pondering if saying what you wanted to say really was a good idea... but then again, it was the truth, so...

"'cause you're making me want to kiss you"

"'s that right?" he smirked, inching closer

"mh-mh"

"and what's stopping you?"

"I don't want you to get sick" you said, watching him huff a laugh

"sweetheart" he shook his head, grinning brightly "I would catch a thousand colds if it meant I got to kiss you"

And although your heart skipped a beat, you couldn't help but laugh out a quick "that's disgusting", before his lips finally met with yours.

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poguesofthebau · 1 year

Text

microscope

summary: steve wants nothing more than to ask you out. however, constantly being under the eyes of nancy, robin, dustin, and the rest of the kids makes it nearly impossible for him. read part two here :)

word count: 6.8k pairing: steve harrington x fem!henderson!reader

"you know, i've been hearing a lot of boo-hooing from you. you, steve harrington, who has the perfect solution to all your problems right in front of your face."

steve scoffed, rolling his eyes at his friend as he tossed a stack of returned films into a bin behind the counter. he internally grimaced as he thought about the fact that he'd be emptying that same bin back onto the shelves tomorrow morning, likely whilst having that same conversation with robin, both more or less against his will. "don't start with this again, robin."

"i'm not the one who started it! you did, with your gushy, lovey-dovey, pining, bedroom eyes every time you look at y/n!" her hands flailed around her as she spoke, dramatizing her words in that way only robin could. "seriously, i don't know how she hasn't caught on yet. because, of course that's not the only way you make your feelings totally obvious. every time you see her-- whenever your lives aren't in immediate danger, i mean-- she's the only person in the room you actually outwardly enjoy speaking to. you randomly bring her up in every other conversation. you call her sweetheart without even thinking about it. and don't think i don't realize that half the time you're at dustin's house it's for her. not to mention you haven't gone on a date in months, and not because you can't get one! it's like--" robin scoffed, a mixture of realization, amusement, and astonishment-- "it's like you've found the girl you've been looking for, but you're too chicken to actually ask her out!"

"first of all, the sweetheart thing? yeah-- that was one, maybe two times. second of all, there are only so many girls in hawkins. how do you know there's not a deficit of girls nearby that i haven't already dated?" robin tried to interject, knowing that his second reason was total bullshit, but steve raised his voice as he continued, preventing her from speaking. "anddd third of all! the rest of that can all be justified by the fact that y/n is my friend!"

"friend schmend. the two of you are going to end up together, i can feel it. mark my words, harrington!"

"i'll mark them if you stop repeating them," steve grumbled, returning to the task at hand as robin hummed in satisfaction.

"so there's really nothing going on? like... nothing, nothing?"

steve's day was becoming a miserable cycle. first it was robin. now it was nancy. he was beginning to consider going home and hiding from his remaining obligations for the day, but lucas was starting five in the basketball game that night, so he really had no choice. so there he was in the hawkins high gym, grimacing as his ex grilled him about the girl he was in love with. moreover, steve had thought he was secretly in love. apparently he hadn't been doing too great a job of keeping things under wraps. so not only was he going to have to spend another night with all of his friends pretending he wasn't in love with you, but he also had to listen to them as they threw it in his face that he was.

so, yes, steve was miserable.

"nothing is going on, nancy," steve stated flatly, eyes scanning the area near the entrance. he knew that if you showed up, she would quit it (nancy was one of the few of the bunch who at least halted her interrogations when you were around to potentially overhear). robin was a section over in the gym bleachers, clad in her band uniform and gripping her instrument, too focused on vickie's presence beside her to notice steve and nancy sitting so close-by. although he was currently missing the constant subject changes throughout conversations with robin, he was glad she was too distracted to join nancy in harassing him. mike was standing on the sidelines with lucas while he stretched, the boys laughing at something a grinning lucas had said. the rest of you had yet to arrive. in other words, there was nothing stopping nancy from taking her turn to question him about his nonexistent relationship with you. he was trapped.

he was also saving the seat to his right for you, fully prepared to face the repercussions of that choice if someone realized it too soon. regardless, he was praying you showed up before anyone else so he could avoid having to literally fight over the empty foot of space on the bench. regardless of where you ended up sitting, steve just wanted you there. he wanted to be near you, and to hear you laugh at dustin's silly basketball jokes, and to watch your expression shift from suspenseful to proud any time lucas shot and scored. he knew you'd turn to him and grin for no reason at some point, like you always did. he would be stunned by how effortlessly beautiful you were, but he'd just blush and grin back without a second thought. you'd make him happy in the ways that mattered. he could never be miserable with you there.

"okay, well... do you want something to be going on?"

steve turned to nancy at that, brows ruffling as he eyed her. "what do you mean? nance, have you been talking to robin? because, seriously, she's nuts. like, out of her mind--"

"no, no, no," nancy interrupted. her hair swirled around her head as she shook it, further emphasizing her answer. "i haven't been talking to robin. i've just noticed the two of you spending more time together than usual, and... you would make sense together. i mean, she makes you happy, and you make her happy. it's pretty easy to see that much."

steve paused at that, eyes flickering to the door one more time before carefully selecting his next words. his tone was less harsh this time, having a better understanding now of what nancy had been trying to do. she was encouraging him. "we're just friends, nance. you're right about her making me happy, but we're just friends."

nancy started to respond, offering him some hopeful nonsense about giving it a little bit of time, but steve was no longer paying her any attention. his eyes had finally found what they'd been searching for, and the sound of his heart thudding in his chest suddenly drowned out nancy's voice. you were there, and you looked perfect. your outfit was nothing special, really-- he'd seen you wear the same thing plenty of times before-- but steve still felt a wave of awe wash over him when he caught sight of you, a smile creeping onto his face. you hadn't noticed him yet, your eyes beginning to search the crowd before suddenly turning to look at max, who'd walked into the gym with you. you laughed at something she said, presumably a snide comment about the jocks or the antsy crowd or whatever else max was unimpressed by upon arrival, and steve's breath hitched in his throat at the amused expression on your face. a second later, though, you found him in the crowd. your eyebrows raised when the two of you made eye contact, and your hand reflexively shot up to wave at the shaggy-haired boy. he returned the gesture, abruptly snapping out of his y/n-induced trance. when he glanced back at nancy, she had a smug, knowing look on her face, clearly entertained, but said nothing.

"hey there," you said, dropping into the empty spot that steve had been so ready to fight someone over. mike had parted ways with lucas and joined you and max on your walk to the bleachers, and they seated themselves in front of you as you greeted steve and nancy.

"hey, y/n. how's it going?" his tone was calm and balanced as he spoke to you, concentrating hard on remaining as nonchalant toward you as he would the others. he had to play it cool; nancy was watching.

you let out a puff of air, chuckling a little at the question. "as good as it could go, i guess. dustin's feeling particularly unruly today, so it's been an interesting afternoon. but little brother can't dish out anything i can't handle, so let there be basketball!"

he smiled at that, a laugh passing his lips as he fell into conversation with you. this was what he'd needed all day. just a simple, uninterrupted five minutes talking to you. "where is the little demon? no way he's missing this game when he told me i had to be here."

"bathroom. he was too busy torturing me with science facts to pee before we left the house to pick max up, and then he was too 'immobilized by the need to urinate' that he couldn't get out of the car and use max's bathroom. i don't think i've ever seen him move as fast as he did getting out of the car after i parked outside-- dusty boy had to go."

"maybe that's his karma," steve suggested, prompting laughter from both of you. "huge ego, tiny bladder."

a few minutes later, dustin was emerging from the hallways. he suspiciously squinted at steve as he walked in, having recently noticed that his best friend had been paying his big sister a lot of attention in the last few weeks. he had tried his hardest to remain calm about the situation, but he was already panicking. what was he supposed to do if steve dated you, somehow fucked it up, and you ended up hating him? how would dustin's relationship with steve fare if he broke your heart?

at the same time, though, he wanted you both to be happy-- or to at least get the chance to be happy. in fact, he would love for you to be happy with each other. two of the people he loved the most in the world ending up together seemed poetic in ways that dustin couldn't find the wording for. the best analogy he could come up with was a comparison to peanut butter and jelly, but he knew that was too cliche to voice. so he didn't mention anything, not you and steve or peanut butter and jelly, and just sat back and watched. some days he watched optimistically. maybe after today they'll realize they're perfect for each other. other days, he watched like a hawk, a childish urge to kick steve in the groin for looking at his sister like that festering inside him. i'm going to knock him out. i'm going to give him two black eyes-- that'll teach him a lesson. but he never did anything. just watched and waited.

in the last few weeks, watching without commenting had gotten more difficult than dustin ever expected. one advantage to being your brother and steve's best friend was that he noticed things some of the others might not. he saw steve taking extra long strides to make it to the door first, opening it for you as you continued rambling about some meaningless topic, any time the two of you were walking through a threshold together. he saw your eyes roll the slightest bit when steve mentioned a girl he'd gone on a date with a few months back. he saw steve waiting in his car to make sure you got inside alright after he dropped you off-- something he never did for dustin. he saw you smoothing down your hair before getting out of the car to sit besides steve at the basketball game. he saw how the two of you saw each other.

so instead of continuing to give steve dirty looks as he approached, dustin sucked in a breath of air, forced himself to change perspectives, and made some adjustments to his facial expression.

when he finished glaring at steve, his eyes locked with nancy, who returned eye contact and gave him a sympathetic smile. she understood being protective of your sibling, and she knew what the fear of losing steve felt like. but she also had a strong feeling that things would turn out going well for all three of you; at this point, your quickly-blooming relationship with steve had been a long time coming. of course, she couldn't communicate all of that knowledge through two seconds of eye contact, but dustin at least saw that she understood.

"hellooo, people!" dustin grinned at you, steve, and nancy as he seated himself between mike, whom he amicably bumped shoulders with, and max, whom he wiggled his eyebrows at. each of you acknowledged his arrival just before a whistle blew. lucas and four of his teammates made their way onto the court, and dustin felt a wave of relief upon having something else to focus on. "let's watch some basketball!"

"you did amazing, lucas!"

"oh, yeah! super graceful out there, just like i taught you. way to make me proud, kid."

you snorted, lightly whacking steve for somehow finding a way to make lucas's success about himself. "very humble, harrington."

nancy, mike, dustin and max followed close behind you and steve, congratulating lucas on the team’s win as they stepped up beside you. the game had ended 20 minutes ago, with hawkins securing the win. lucas had been granted some time to hit the showers and say his goodbyes to his teammates before meeting back up with the rest of you by the gymnasium doors. the school was far from empty, a plethora of people still lingering around the gym and in the parking lot, and the bustling seemed to comfort you all.

“okay, who's getting a ride home from me?” the kids began chattering over one another in response, and the only way you deciphered their chorus of answers was by mentally noting whether they'd pointed at you or steve. you'd chauffeured dustin and max on your way, and nancy, mike, and lucas had carpooled with steve, but lucas was now planning on riding home with you (assuredly to spend more time with max). in the bustle of the conversation, you heard mike say he'd left his bike at lucas's house the day before, meaning he'd be joining whoever lucas left with so he could get his usual mode of transportation back. this left steve riding with nancy, and you dropping off mike, lucas and max on your way home with dustin.

steve was still hyper-focused on behaving normally, resisting the urge to look at you with what robin had described as his "gushy, lovey-dovey, pining, bedroom eyes" too frequently. at this point in the night, he was regressing to the sullen mood that he'd begun that day with. he knew that he'd have to part ways with you within a few minutes, and that was enough to ruin his night. because of that, he didn't really care who he had to drive home, or that nancy would be his only passenger, or how your mood change entirely when you realized that nancy would be his only passenger.

you knew you should've held it together better. unbeknownst to steve, the kids had been on your back, too. dustin would quiz you about your day whenever you spent ample time away from him, prying until you coughed up every detail of any time you'd spent alone with steve. there had been one evening a few weeks earlier when max and lucas were on their way to use the pool at steve's house, and they'd seen your car pulling out of steve's driveway as they turned onto his street. dustin wasn't with you. the next day, max showed up at your doorstep to accuse you of being in a secret relationship with your friend. you thought you’d convinced her otherwise at first, but three weeks later she told you she was still waiting for the day you two “finally came clean.” nancy told you she’d overheard mike telling el over the phone that you and steve “still haven’t gotten together,” which then led to a very awkward conversation between you and nancy about how she wouldn't mind if you wanted to get with steve despite their history.

you knew what it felt like to be scrutinized in the exact same ways steve was, and you were just as antsy as him when they were around to observe.

you should’ve held it together better. but you slipped.

“okay, great. you and me, nance. all ready? let’s hit the road.” he dropped his hands onto her shoulders, beginning to steer her toward the exit when he was halted by your reaction.

what did you do in response to steve’s urgency to leave with nancy? you scoffed.

for a split second, you thought maybe, maybe, no one heard it.

unfortunately for you, everyone heard it. (admittedly, it was sort of loud. arguably more of a guffaw than a scoff.) steve froze, his hands falling from nancy's frame as he twisted back around to quizzically look at the source of the noise. the others followed suit, all peering at you before exchanging their own encoded glances with each other.

so... maybe 'slip' was an understatement. maybe you completely threw yourself under the bus, let the cat out of the bag, spilled the beans, all of it. totally exposed yourself. if they had an inkling before, they had proof now.

after a moment of tense silence passed over the group, steve looked at you, surprised and unnerved by the noise you'd made. he opened his mouth to ask if you were okay, but you were already moving on, turning to speak to dustin. “let’s go, little man. round up our passengers for me.” and you spun on your heel and walked out of the high school.

as you walked out, dustin immediately turned to steve, his finger extended until it was a mere inch away from steve’s face. “you,” he said threateningly. “you idiot! you absolute goddamn imbecile! son of a bitch!”

as dustin threw halfhearted insults at the older boy, the kids behind him groaned in mortification. “steveeeee,” max complained. “you’re better than this!”

lucas snickered, looking at max as he gestured to steve. “what makes you think he’s better than this? look at him! he has no clue what he’s done!”

“oh, he knows what he’s done,” dustin grumbled. “he’s done something to upset my sister. and for that, i might have to kill him.”

steve was just beginning to defend himself when robin came bounding down the halls, a duffel bag slung over her arm and an unknowing grin on her face. “hey! i’m so glad i caught you before you left! what are the odds you could give your old friend, coworker, fellow monster-slaying warrior robin a ride home?”

she tried to further explain the circumstances that led to her losing her original ride, but she was cut off by the kids' roars. they spoke over one another, and all at once robin heard, “oh, thank god!” “perfect timing!” “you’re a little late.” “jesus christ!”

her expression shifted to confusion, finally sensing that she was out of the loop on something. she looked to steve and nancy, opening her mouth to question the strong reaction from the younger crowd when steve cut her off. “yeah, i can give you a ride. c’mon, we were just leaving.” he looked pointedly at the kids as he made the latter claim, swaying them to keep their mouths shut for the remaining three minutes that they’d be together.

it was a fifteen minute ride from the school to max's house. the redhead was sitting in the passenger seat of your car, subtly glancing over at you every few moments as the three boys bickered in the back seat. she hadn't said anything since you started driving, but the backseat occupants had been whispering essentially the entire time. you had turned on the car radio when the awkward silence and coughing became too much to bear (which, to be precise, was within two minutes of the ride), and they'd immediately began to quietly theorize behind you.

during the last five minutes of the ride, the whispering intensified noticeably. you still couldn't make out their exact words, but all three of them had raised their volumes enough that you could decipher which voice was which. you'd had just about enough of their poor attempts to hide the fact that they were talking about you, and you were just about to give them a piece of your mind. before you reached your tipping point, however, max cleared her throat and spoke to you in her own low voice. "robin ended up going with steve and nancy, by the way," she muttered, mentally noting the muscles in your jaw slightly relax when you processed what she said. you threw her a grateful look, letting out a barely-noticeable sigh of relief. max paused, gauging your mood before adding something else. "you know he likes you, right?"

your eyes moved to the rear view mirror, peering at the boys' reflections to confirm that they were still preoccupied with their own conversation before responding quietly. "i know."

steve knew from the moment he opened his eyes the next day that it was going to be another day from hell. he groaned aloud when his alarm clock woke him up, his nose scrunching as he slammed an open palm on top of the machine to silence it. when his bedroom reverted to a state of heavy silence, steve tossed the same hand over his face, mentally recapping the events of the previous day as he prepared to get out of bed. "and you didn't go after her," he grumbled to himself, tossing the comforter off his body and shifting into a sitting position on the side of the bed. "god damn moron didn't go after her."

yesterday he'd had to listen to the girls-- his peers, people his own age-- question his relationship with you without any concrete evidence. today, he was going to have to fight for his life against dustin for ruining your night, disappointing you, not finally confessing his feelings for you instead of trying to run off with nancy, and whatever else dustin felt like drudging up in the midst of the singular discrepancy. worst of all, steve felt like he deserved it. he felt like shit for making you feel anything other than adored and appreciated, and he had already spent plenty of time beating himself up over it when he got home the night before.

no matter how he felt, he couldn't shake the anxiety he felt over you being upset with him. granted, he wasn't even sure that you still were upset with him-- maybe this only seemed like a big deal in the moment, and he was actually already forgiven-- but the uncertainty was enough to make his stomach flip a few times whenever he considered the possibility.

he knew he had to talk to you as soon as he could. he had a shift at the video store that morning, which was why his obnoxious alarm had sounded so much earlier than he would've preferred, but the next thing on his agenda for the day would be to find you and apologize-- grovel, if necessary, until he was sure you weren't harboring any hard feelings toward him. he'd probably have to hear a lot of commentary from everyone else before he got to talk to you, but he doubted anyone could be much harder on him than he was already being with himself. so he threw on his work uniform, blocking out a memory of the time you told him he looked "magnificent" in that green vest, and hopped in the car. just a few hours and he could talk to you.

it took the kids longer to show up than steve expected. half of him thought dustin might be standing at the front desk with his arms folded across his chest when steve walked through the door. but no, they didn't get there until three hours into his shift. he'd already restocked the shelves, rung out a handful of customers, and taken his thirty-minute lunch break by the time he heard the bustle of the 4 freshmen entering. the first coherent thing he heard was lucas's whisper, asking, "do you see him anywhere?" he popped his head above the shelf he'd been reorganizing in an attempt to pass the time, throwing the group a hesitant smile as they spotted him in the far corner of the store. when he joined them in the open area beside the register, steve opened his mouth to greet them only to be immediately cut off by dustin.

"have you talked to her?" he drilled, a stern tone behind his voice to match the demanding look in his eye.

"no," steve replied hesitantly, not sure of whether or not the boy was planning on allowing him to elaborate further. his eyes darted around the small crowd before him, taking in max's curious gaze and the amused expressions lucas and mike wore before flickering back to dustin. the curly-haired boy was glaring at him expectantly, and steve rushed to fill the silence before dustin could yell at him again. "i was planning on going over to see her after my shift."

dustin squinted at steve, inspecting his face for any sign that he might've been lying. he found no evidence of falsehood, nodding slowly as he mentally lined up his next set of questions. as dustin was thinking, max piped up. "do you feel remorse? i mean, do you fully grasp the depth of what you did?"

"hey, i'm asking the questions here," dustin said pointedly to max. he blinked a few times, then turned back to steve. "well, answer her!"

steve stuttered a bit as he responded, surprised by the question despite how prepared for this confrontation he'd thought he was. "uh, i-- what-- well, yeah, i feel remorse, but it's not like i did it on purpose. it was-- i didn't mean to make her upset."

"you were drooling over nancy! literally rushing to get out of there when the only thing motivating you was the idea of being alone in a car with your ex-girlfriend! literally!"

"okay, when you put it like that, it sounds really bad," steve admitted dubiously, wincing at the reminder that you probably thought he had feelings for nancy again. "but that wasn't actually what was going on!"

dustin didn't seem to care what steve had to say to defend himself, simply moving on to address his second issue. "and not just that, but you've also been stringing her along for months now, acting all flirty and romantic and obsessed with her, basically going on dates all the time, and then denying that anything is going on between you two!"

"that is not true," steve contested.

"dude, that's kinda true," lucas interjected.

at the exact same time, mike added, "yeah, you definitely do all that stuff."

"we don't go on dates! we hang out! y/n would tell you the same thing-- because we're friends, and nobody is stringing anybody along."

"that doesn't explain why she got so upset at you wanting to spend time alone with nancy, though," max remarked. steve groaned at this, growing tired of talking in circles yet again about his relationship with you. max's eyebrows raised at the older boy, eyes slightly widening in a combination of false innocence and genuine interest. "i'm just saying."

"exactly! if nothing's going on with you, why is she so worried about you and nancy? and--"

"okay, fine!" suddenly steve was interrupting dustin, and all eyes were now expectantly trained on his noticeably fed-up expression. "you're right! i have feelings for your sister, and i'm pretty sure she has feelings for me too, but i haven't been able to ask her out properly yet because i have a bunch of people watching my every move and asking me questions about her and us at all times! so maybe if you would all stop breathing down my neck, then i would be able to figure out a way to ask her out without seeming like a total creep!”

silence fell over the group, all of them stunned that steve had finally confessed the truth. the kids hadn't thought steve would give his big secret up that easily, and even steve himself had intended to keep his emotions under wraps for a while longer. he at least wanted to tell you about how he felt before he told dustin. but, clearly, that was no longer an option.

just as it began to set in steve's mind that he'd just confessed his true feelings to dustin, max, lucas, and mike, the front door swung open and another person stepped foot in the store.

it was you.

"uh, hi everyone," you chuckled nervously when you walked in. you held a vhs tape in your left hand, the other holding the strap of your bag to secure it on your shoulder. the tension in the air was immediately apparent to you; it wasn't often that these kids were stunned into silence, so you recognized the expressions well. no one flinched to respond when you walked in, but they seemed caught when they saw you. steve, on the other hand, was visibly clenching his jaw and avoiding eye contact with the others. he was unmistakably distraught, and the tight-lipped smile he threw you as you entered did nothing to convince you otherwise.

you took a few steps toward them, just about to blatantly ask what you'd walked into when max spoke up. "hi y/n," she stepped in front of the others as she spoke, meeting you halfway between their position and yours. a second after she greeted you, her mouth moved again, releasing no sound. you made out what she mouthed clear as day: steve is mad. her eyes held a sort of amazed-but-apprehensive look, and it clicked in your mind what must've happened. dustin. max assumed you'd caught on then, subtly sending you another hint. "returning a movie?"

"yeah," you said, feigning a smile as your eyes flickered behind the girl. dustin had now snapped out of his stunned silence, obviously observing closely as you made your next move. mike and lucas seemed to be on alert, both glancing between you, dustin, and steve to see how the situation would unfold. "steve, you wanna help me out over here?" you nodded toward the counter in the center of the room, walking backwards in the direction as you gestured.

"uh, yeah," steve said, clearing his throat when he realized how low his tone was. "sure, i gotcha."

the two of you made your way to the register, steve's back to the kids as he stood across the counter from you. your eyes shifted to your little brother as you placed the vhs tape on the counter, watching as he took a step forward only to be physically stopped by max. words were exchanged between the two, and dustin gave the back of steve's head one final intense glare before moving to the opposite side of the store and fixating his eyes on a random shelf of films. thank you, max, you thought gratefully.

when you looked back at steve, he seemed to be lost in thought, already in the process of marking your latest rental as returned. you gave yourself a few seconds to just look at him. you could tell he hadn't brushed his hair when he woke up that morning because the hair on the left side of his head was flattened out in comparison to the rest. the first button on his vest was secured to the second buttonhole, something you would've laughed at on most other days. his eyes were the same brown as always, but the distracted expression behind them made you slightly uneasy. soon enough, your few seconds to admire the older boy had expired, and it was time for you to force him into a conversation. "so," you started, earning a glance and raise of the brow from him. "how's the shift going? running the show solo?"

he chuckled, shaking his head at your small talk. "yup, it's all me this morning. and, of course, i was running a smooth operation until the fiends showed up."

you shot him a pitiful smile. "i'm sorry about them. i told dustin to leave it alone, but he's--"

"obsessed with protecting you?" you nodded, and steve chuckled again. "yeah, i know. he always has been, and he always will be. i don't blame him. it's just-- agh, it's a lot sometimes, i guess." you could feel him thawing out as you fell into conversation, gradually easing back up after facing the turmoil that was your little brother. steve's mind seemed to shift then, almost as if he'd had a lightbulb moment within. "hey, you know, i'm sorry about last night, by the way. i didn't mean for it to seem like i was trying to get away from you, or get alone with nancy, or anything like that, because none of that is the case."

"you don't have to apologize, steve. i'm sure you've already had a hard enough time explaining yourself to dustin; you don't need to explain anything to me on top of that."

"no, no, i do, though," he insisted. as you talked, the vhs you'd entered with was resting beneath steve's palm, having long-since been forgotten. he turned his body to fully face you as he spoke this time, and you took a split second of that transitional time to mentally note the way his hand engulfed the tape. you almost lost all focus in that moment, already starting to thinking about steve's hands, warm and big and firm, instead of his relationship with nancy or your brother's pestering or anything else. but when he spoke again, the tone of his voice had changed, and all of your attention was drawn back to the conversation. "it's been months of everyone else demanding an explanation for you and me spending so much time together, and the least i could do is actually give you an explanation."

"trust me, i get it. they give me a lot of shit too, for pretty much anything that involves you."

"anything and everything. like, if dustin sees me wave at you when i pick him up from your house, it's all i hear about for twenty minutes. any time max hears that you and i spend any time together she has to clarify whether or not it was a date. even nancy and robin do it. i mean, when we left the gym last night the two of them went back and forth the entire ride on what i could do to get you to forgive me. i honestly don't remember the last time i went a whole 24 hours without someone asking about you, or mentioning us, or calling me out on something. it’s just so frustrating. i mean, i spend months striking out with every dud of a girl i talk to, and then i waste a few more months with a bunch of chicks who i know aren't worth my time, and then i finally realized that there's this perfect girl right in front of me, and i can’t work up the courage to do anything about it because of the pressure from our friends and her little brother? kind of pathetic, if you ask me."

"the perfect girl, you say?" you smirked at him, his face flushing a little when you locked eyes.

"i-- yeah, the perfect girl." he smiled a little as he looked at you, feeling his own mood shift from anxious and overwhelmed to hopeful and optimistic.

"i don't know about perfect. maybe she's kinda cute, but perfect? seems like a bit of a stretch."

"no, i mean, i get that it's hard to believe and everything, but she's a total catch. she's drop-dead gorgeous, obviously, but she's also smart, and determined, and so caring. like, i don't think there's anything this girl wouldn't do to protect the people she loves. seriously, i've never met a girl like her before, and i'm pretty positive i never will again. she's pretty much one of a kind. yeah, she's perfect."

the nonchalant tone of his voice as he spoke confirmed to you that steve had calmed down after his interaction with dustin. more than that, you were shocked by the things he'd said. as you'd said to max the night before, you knew steve liked you. it wasn't like he did some superb job of hiding it from you or anyone else; everyone knew that steve harrington didn't waste his time hanging out with one girl for months if he wasn't actually interested in her. in all honesty, though, you hadn't thought it was as much of a true emotional attraction as a combination of loneliness and sexual tension. his never having made a move before was what you'd considered confirmation of that theory; he didn't actually care enough to risk his friendship with dustin, so he just left it alone. regardless of all the logic you'd used to justify your relationship with steve, here he was confessing that he had all sorts of feelings about you.

without noticing, you'd gone completely silent during your moment of realization. steve was looking at you with anticipation and a little fear, smiling nervously as he said, "sorry, was that too much?"

you laughed, shaking your head. "no, that wasn't too much. it's just kind of insane, you know? i mean, if you told me sophomore year that king steve would be calling me 'the perfect girl' one day, i would've laughed in your face. but here we are."

"here we are," steve repeated with a smile. "for the record, though, king steve is dead and gone. god, i hated that guy." he rolled his eyes as he spoke then, cringing at the memory of who he used to be.

"yeah, i can't really disagree with that. king steve was a dick. but i'm glad you're the steve that took over for him."

"well, this steve would really love it if you'd give him a chance. i might do dumb shit sometimes, but it's just because i get so in my head about what people think. but when it comes to you, i'm sick of worrying about what everyone else will say. i just--" he leaned forward, both elbows resting on the counter between you, and locked eyes with you as he spoke again. "will you go out with me?"

you could've sworn someone was holding a lighter to each of your cheeks in that moment. whether it was because of how hard you were blushing or how hard you were smiling, you weren't sure, but you could feel the heat spread across your face as you answered. you leaned forward as you spoke, too, placing your hands on top of his where they rested on the counter. "i would love nothing more, steve."

"jesus christ," steve breathed, letting his head hang low as he exhaled a chuckle and hid his face from you. when he lifted his head again, his face was just as pink as yours. "i didn't know if i would ever get the opportunity to ask you uninterrupted. even then, i didn't know if you'd even say yes!"

you squeezed his hands in yours, laughing at his confession. "obviously i said yes. what girl could say no to that hair?" you reached up and tugged gently on the hair atop his head, laughing when his nose scrunched in response.

steve grabbed the hand that had been in his hair as you dropped it back down, feeling another wave of relief and adoration wash over him. "i would come around the counter and kiss you, but your little brother is definitely still watching us."

you snorted at that, nodding. "you're totally right. and, unfortunately, the only way to get him to leave here is to take him with me when i go. so, instead of kissing me now, you can wait until later tonight when you pick me up to go out."

steve laughed, letting your hands slip out of his as you pulled away and started walking toward your brother and his friends. "i'll pick you up at 7?" he called after you.

"i'll be ready by 6:30," you shot back with a smile. then you moved a few feet across the store to find dustin, lucas, mike, and max huddled behind a shelf of vhs tapes, obviously struggling to eavesdrop on your conversation with steve. you fought back a laugh at the sight of them, cramped and clueless, before announcing, "anyone who wants to know what's going on with me and steve, leave the store now and you'll get your answers."

steve had never seen those four fools move so quick, and before he knew it, they were outside. he shot you one last lovesick grin as you waved goodbye to him with a smile. "see you at 6:30."

maybe today wasn't such a day from hell, after all.

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

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daisynik7 · 1 year

Text

Business Trip

husband!Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

Summary: Nanami hates going on business trips now that he has you in his life. Even with food and hotel expenses paid for by his company, it’s not enough to distract him from the fact that he misses you. The two of you have the perfect solution for this, which includes a vivid imagination and the help of a little, but mighty, toy. cw: sex-toy use (vibrator), phone sex, explicit sexual content, language, Nanami is a bit mean, dirty talk, use of pet-names (honey, sweetie, princess), reader is called whore and slut (endearing lol), just pure nasty smut. Author’s Notes: More husband!Nanami smut! I was inspired to write this because I just purchased my very first vibe two weeks ago and boy, is it something. Hope you like this filth! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated! Thanks for reading! Divider credits to @/cafekitsune! Tagging the lovely @liliorsstuff-blog bc I love her and Nanami is her husband. 😉

Nanami has a hard time when he has to go out of town for a business trip. He never used to mind it before; in fact, he liked being sent away to a different city every once in a while, especially when the food and hotel expenses were paid for. However, ever since the two of you have been together, he dreads them because it means time away from you. And he hates being apart from you. Absolutely hates it. And to be honest, you hate it too.

This time, he’s sent to Osaka for a convention, staying at a swanky hotel covered by his company. He takes full advantage of this, ordering room service, indulging in a bottle or two of liquor from the mini bar. He even wraps himself in a fluffy robe after showering, sitting in bed with hair still wet at the tips. A single tap of his phone and he’s calling you, waiting a single ring for you to pick up. “Hi baby!” you answer, his mood instantly lifted at the sound of your cheery voice.

“How are you, princess?”

“Good. Just in our room now. How was your day?”

He spends the next several minutes recounting today’s festivities, including a funny story about him sneaking a second complimentary bento for lunch. You rant to him about your coworkers’ petty drama involving missing office supplies and stolen meals from the fridge. You both share what you ate for dinner, you complimenting the picture he sent earlier of the full spread ordered through room service. He sends you a quick snapshot of his current view of his hotel room, including his bare feet sticking out from under the robe.

“Your room is so nice. Look at your toes!” you laugh. “Are you going to sleep soon?”

“Not yet. Still waiting for my hair to dry.” He pauses, contemplating for a split second before asking, “Are you in bed now?”

“Yup, all snuggled under the covers.”

He smiles to himself, picturing you cocooned in the thick comforter the two of you share, curled to the right side of the bed where you usually sleep. “Do you miss me?”

“Of course I do. I miss you so much.”

Without thinking, he spreads his legs wider, getting more comfortable against the pillows. “I miss you too, princess. I wish I was there with you right now.”

“Me too.”

There’s a moment of silence, tension hanging heavy in the static noise between you. Nanami decides to stop beating around the bush. It’s obvious what you both want. You’ve been married long enough, together even longer, there’s no shame or secrets anymore. “Wish I could fuck you right now,” he confesses.

You moan through the speaker, thighs splayed, reaching towards your pussy. Tonight, you’re wearing one of his oversized t-shirts, his scent lingering on the fabric, making you feel safe and secure in his absence. You sink into the cushions, whispering a breathy, “Baby.”

“Tell me what you’re wearing right now.”

“Just your t-shirt and my underwear.”

“Oh yeah? One of your silky ones?”

You hum, confirming his suspicions as he loosens the knot of his robe, folding back the cotton to expose his hardening cock. “God, I bet you look so good right now.”

You giggle softly, lifting the hem of the shirt past your stomach, fingers brushing your skin delicately, imagining his instead.

His voice is low, thick with lust. “I want to hear you come. Can you do that for me?”

“Mm-hm,” you respond, slipping underneath the waistband, teasing your clit with the pad of your middle finger.

He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, already knowing what you’re doing. “Not with your fingers, honey. Use the vibrator, remember?”

A whine escapes your mouth while you reach for the drawer to retrieve the small toy, the one you bought recently to supplement nights alone like this. He was the first to test it out on you, though. Made sure it was good enough to satisfy your needs. The recent memory of him pressing the fluttering tip to your clit, pumping wet fingers in and out of your cunt, has you throbbing.

You push your panties past your knees, sliding them off completely at your ankles. With the blanket hastily stripped from your body, you spread your thighs wide, completely exposed from the waist down. A small bead of lube is just enough to get it slick. You rub the oiled tip up and down your pussy, finger on the button, anticipating the intense sensation.

“Don’t turn it on yet,” he demands. He wraps his hands around the base of his cock, slow strokes to start. “Tease it a little bit. Just like I do it.”

Your husband always likes to take his time with you, no matter how desperate and aching for him you are. And when you’re two hundred plus miles away from each other, you predict he’s going to draw this out as long as he possibly can, both for his pleasure and yours. Not that you’re complaining.

You play with your clit, tingling bud pulsing against the smooth exterior of the vibrator. He huffs, “Don’t hold back. I want you dripping onto to the sheets. Can you do that for me, honey?”

Another moan escapes your lips, envisioning the mess you’re about to make with his sultry voice guiding you through it. “I can’t do it alone,” you whine, finger right on the trigger, raring to go. “Help me, Kento.”

“I’m right here, princess. Don’t worry. Just listen to me, okay? Follow my every word.”

You nod, hypnotized by each syllable uttered from his lust laden lips, like an obedient slut. You’ve almost forgotten that you’re alone in bed, convinced he’s whispering filthy instructions directly in your ear beside you, watching you unravel with the dormant toy pressed to your pussy. “Can you turn it on now, honey?”

He’s gentle and affectionate in the beginning, hiding wicked desires behind endearing pet-names. Soon, he’ll start taunting you, tormenting you for being so fucking sensitive, so fucking needy. The two sides of him work together in perfect sync, angel and devil, both determined to make you lose yourself in the throes of passion. There’s nothing he loves more than seeing you, or in this case, hearing you, completely unhinged for him, and only him.

When you finally push the button, the low buzz playing in the background, he can’t help but increase the pace of his strokes. He pictures your thighs open wide, the shaking tip nestled between your delicate pussy lips, the vibrations stimulating your clit, radiating down to your pointed toes. Head thrown back into the pillows, cheeks hot, tongue sticking out in that adorable dumb expression you make whenever you’re being fucked. It won’t take long for you to climax, not when he’s on the phone guiding you as he jerks his twitching cock. Just the thought of your body spasming from exhilaration is enough to get him off.

“That’s it, right on your clit, honey. Does it feel good?” He knows it does, judging by how the only response he receives are your shameless moans. He chuckles, stroking himself faster. “I can’t understand you, honey. Does it feel good?” Still no reply, he growls, “Answer me.”

You choke on your spit, drool leaking from the sides of your lips. When you catch your breath, you let out a trembling, “Yes!”, resulting in another sinister laugh from him.

“Feels so good, you can’t even speak properly, can you? Too fucked out to even think, huh? Nasty slut.” His devilish side kicks in, hell-bent on hearing you orgasm, to have you coming so hard you spill onto the sheets. “I married such a whore, didn’t I? That’s what you are, a fucking whore. You’re so fucking slutty for me, I love it.”

You’re a whimpering mess now, the vibe sending you into a spiral, clit aching from the relentless tremors. There’s not a coherent thought in your brain; you’re incapable of admitting to him that you’re close. You let him figure it out when you cry out, “Fuck!”, legs quivering and stomach tight from the intense high.

“Give me your fucking orgasm, baby. Let me fucking hear it,” he spits out, sweat forming on his forehead. He’s since stripped his robe off entirely, laying on top of It while he masturbates to the sounds of his precious slut doing exactly what he wants her to do. What he needs her to do.

When you’re finished, you slide the toy lower so that it’s not directly on your sensitive bud. The fluttering tip starts making soft splashing noises at your arousal, indicating just how fucking wet you are. You place the phone right on your abdomen, hoping he can hear the lewd squelches from your pussy. For the first time since you began, you’re able to formulate a proper sentence, body relaxed into the mattress. “Can you hear it, baby? Can you hear how wet I am for you?”

He definitely can. “Ah, fuck,” he swears, fisting his shaft faster. His hand is not enough; it never is. But he lets his imagination do the rest for him. He knows how fucking juicy his pretty wife’s pussy is. Your perfect, luscious pussy lips puffy from overstimulation, covered in sticky sweet cum. He’d do anything for a taste of it right now, to run his tongue along your glistening folds, gather your slick and swallow it to quench his thirst. Dip his finger inside that gushy entrance only to stick it into his mouth, slurping every last drop. He admires the mental image before flicking his wrist with fervor, pumping his cock until he shoots his load onto his stomach.

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, the static noise and muted buzzing from the phone settling in the silence. Nanami looks down, inspecting the wreckage splattered across his abs, leaking down his side and onto the robe beneath. He runs his fingers through his hair, forehead tacky with perspiration, exhaling with a satisfied smile before calling out, “Honey? Are you still there?”

It's only now that he remembers that the low hum is from the vibrator, still buzzing against your supple skin. Reserved moans growing louder as you circle the toy back to your needy clit, ready for another round.

Nanami smirks to himself, holding the phone closer to his ear, rock hard again. It’s going to be a long, fulfilling night.

#kento nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #nanami smut #nanami fanfic #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #Kento Nanami smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk nanami

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bvidzsoo · 3 months

Text

Love you, forever

❀Boyfriend!Mingi❀

TW: nothing, except angst and then fluff *cries*

Word count: 2,4k

A/N: Am I okay? Not really. Did Mingi's IG post send me into a spiral of depression? Kinda yeah. Did writing this help? Abso-fucking-lutely not, I'm even more in shambles, I don't even know what life is anymore guys, I'm hurting, bye. I'm fine, don't y'all worry, at least I'll be fine tomorrow lol Mingi's IG post really destroyed me, I'm a libra, I'm dramatic okay? Your feedback is appreciated! This little piece is for all of my fellow Mingtis' who are hanging on by a thread, love y'all! And please listen to Tunnel to get the feels even more going, trust me! *cries again*

I couldn’t help but sigh for the nth time as I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, chest tightening the longer I stared at my notebooks. It felt like nothing was going my way anymore, like everything was falling apart. I couldn’t define the tipping point of it all, but everything was starting to become too much. The stress, every new day brought more challenges without an obvious solution. The assignments felt like they were only adding up more and more, overtaking every thought of mine and only inducing more stress. Things started to become overbearing, I started feeling like a failure. There was a constant pressure on my chest, threatening, about to burst just at a simple innocent glance thrown my way by a stranger. I ignored it as best as I could, the thoughts and emotions, but it was getting harder day by day. It didn’t help that after a misunderstanding, my boyfriend wasn’t talking to me…everything just felt too much. Like I was overstimulated without a concrete reason, and not even my friends could help anymore. It felt lonely, it felt cold, and it felt downright depressing. It was fine as long as I wasn’t at home, as long as I wasn’t left on my own with my loud thoughts making me feel even more miserable.

It's been three days since we’ve spoken, Mingi and I, and it was maddening. I knew this didn’t mean the end of our relationship, but I never took it well when he was upset because of me. Especially when he was the one to pull away, to give me the cold shoulder. Especially not right now, when all I wished for was to curl up by his side and inhale his familiar cologne, closing my eyes and relaxing into my boyfriend’s arms. I needed him here, and I knew he needed his space when upset, but I felt like being selfish and just texting him. If the tears in my eyes weren’t proof enough that I was seriously on the verge of breaking, then I don’t know what else was. I sniffed loudly and pushed my notebooks aside, blood boiling just at the simple sight of them. It’s those damned notes which were making me feel like this, and the impeding feeling of failure, of failing another important class and never finishing this wrenched course and university altogether. It was frightening, and I didn’t want to be alone anymore. My friends were always a text away, but my body was craving the warmth of my boyfriend, my soul was yearning for his. I didn’t want to be alone anymore, and I didn’t want to drown and wallow in this horrible feeling anymore. I needed the love of my life next to me.

Quickly wiping my tears clean from my eyes, I adjusted my glasses on the bridge of my nose and unlocked my phone, noticing that I had gotten a notification from Instagram. At the beginning of our relationship, which was quite a few years ago, Mingi and I had set each other’s accounts to send notifications when one of us posted, being madly in love and eager to see what the other was up to. Despite the passing of time, and of our emotions only deepening, we never turned the setting off, and I was surprised to find a notification from his personal page. With another sniff, I clicked on the app and was presented with ten images of my boyfriend, out and about, enjoying his day. His black hair was fluffy and not necessarily styled, but the messy look always fit him extraordinarily. His bare face looked healthy, and it had a nice shine to it under the lightning of the place he was at, and I couldn’t help but sniff again as I scrolled through the pictures, trying to ignore the fact that the blue and greyish sweater he wore was a gift from me for his birthday two years ago. And perhaps the tears wouldn’t have sprung free from my eyes if it weren’t for that video in which he was dancing to the music softly playing in the background, locking and popping in tiny as he grinned and chuckled. Mingi was a dance major with a minor in music, and he was living his best possible life at the moment. He was happy and content with where he was at, and it always brought so much joy to my soul, but seeing him enjoying himself while I was wallowing in self-pity certainly set off an uncontrollable amount of tears and ugly gasps for air. It made me happy that he was doing okay, but seeing him made me miss him terribly, and I couldn’t help but close my phone and lay down on my bed, curling up into a ball as I cried into my pillow.

This crying session was really due time, the emotions bundled up for way too long now, but it still felt horrible that I had to try and push the feeling of loneliness away and comfort myself, while foolishly trying to smell Mingi’s cologne since I was wearing his oversized blouse. The only problem was that I had stolen it from him a long time ago and it didn’t carry his cologne anymore, it had my scent, and that just made me gasp for air as my heart clenched more, making me miss him even more. And perhaps if it weren’t for the sobs increasing in volume and the self-wallowing I was so focused on, I would’ve noticed or heard the jiggle of keys and the opening of the front door. But I was too busy ripping my glasses off my head and throwing them behind me, rubbing the heels of my palms roughly against my eyes and trying to calm my irregular breathing as my throat finally seemed to ease up, my chest somewhat lighter than before. But I knew the crying session wasn’t over, it was just a matter of time until another strong wave of sadness and yearning would hit me, sending me into another fit of ugly sobs. I just couldn’t help it, it felt like the world around me was falling apart and I couldn’t do anything about it, just let it ruin me in the process.

But as I pushed myself back up into a sitting position and rubbed the snot off my face with the sleeve of my blouse, I heard footsteps outside of my door, startling me. Very few people had keys to my apartment. Like my parents, bestest friend and…well, Mingi. We didn’t live together yet, we were planning on moving in together soon, but both of us had keys to each other’s apartments. And I knew it couldn’t have been my parents as they live five hours away and never visit on weekdays, neither could it be my best friend as she was away on a two-week business trip with her work colleagues. And that could only mean…that it was Mingi. And almost as if sensing my confused state, the door to my room opened and Mingi stood in the doorway, dressed and looking the same as in the pictures.

“Hey, I—baby?” His raspy voice was quiet and his eyebrows furrowed when his eyes fell on me. I sniffed loudly, frozen for a second, until another wave of yearning and loneliness hit hard, making me cry again as I stared at my boyfriend helplessly, “Oh my God, what’s wrong?”

He rushed inside, almost tripping over his feet, but made it to the bed safely and before he could really as much as reach out for me, I sprung forward and jumped on his lap, wrapping my limbs around him like a koala. Mingi grunted in surprise due to the sudden attack, but his arms were instantly wrapped around my middle as I held onto him tightly, hiding my face in his warm neck as I tried to control my breathing and stop the tears. He was here now; I wasn’t alone anymore. I had him and I would always have him, no matter what. His body was warm and soft against mine, so familiar as it engulfed mine into his, Mingi’s nose nuzzling against the top of my head as I slipped my fingers through his soft hair, sighing contently at the feeling of being held. In his arms, it was always as if the world disappeared, like it was just the two of us, like nothing and nobody could hurt us. He’s been the one and only man to ever make me feel like that, and it made me think quite often how lucky I was to have found such person. And Mingi’s sweet, yet musky scent finally made my sobs settle into loud sniffs, arms tightening around his neck involuntarily as if I was afraid he’d leave.

“Baby?” Mingi’s voice was small, almost afraid, as I felt a kiss pressed against the top of my head as he shifted, bringing us higher up on the bed as he held me close against himself.

“I missed you,” I croaked out, lips trembling slightly, “so much, Mingi.”

“I’m sorry.” Mingi whispered, letting out a heavy sigh, “I shouldn’t have ignored you for three days, that was shitty of me. Why are you crying? What happened?”

I sighed and shrugged lightly, “I don’t know, I just—”

I chewed on my bottom lip, letting the silence stretch on as Mingi carefully cupped my cheeks and raised my head up, our faces close to each other as we stared in each other’s eyes. Mingi’s sharp eyes were soft and filled with so much worry, that it made me pout as I tried to put my jumbled thoughts into words, “I don’t know. Things got too much; I suppose. The classes and assignments, the fear that I won’t finish my dissertation in time, and you then getting upset…I’ve been feeling under the weather for quite a while now, actually. I guess I just broke today.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mingi’s expression was sour and it made me feel guilty as I looked away from his eyes, following the sharp bridge of his nose, well defined and tall. I shrugged, getting comfortable in his lap as I laced my fingers together around his neck, Mingi’s warm and big hands settling on my hips.

“You worry a lot about me, Mingi, I didn’t want to burden you again with something so insignificant—”

“Your wellbeing is very significant to me, Y/N, and you know that.” His voice had an edge to it as his grip slightly tightened against me, his own lips forming a pout. I stared at him for a few seconds before sniffing again, eyes taking in his tan face, his dark and warm eyes, the mole under his eye and on his jaw, and his plush lips. I had missed him dearly.

“I know.” I mumbled and looked back into his eyes when Mingi pulled our bodies flushed together, leaning ahead to nudge his nose against mine, his breath tickling my face. I couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on my lips, and I averted my eyes shyly as Mingi chuckled.

“I’m not upset anymore.” He said, licking his lips before bopping his nose against mine again, “And you’re too stressed to study more today.”

My lips pulled into a tight line as I hummed, shoulders sagging a little, but Mingi suddenly grinned incredibly wide, his uneven and protruding front teeth showing, a little ‘imperfection’ I adored way too much about him. His eyes suddenly held an exited glint in them and I couldn’t help but feel intrigued, raising my eyebrows in question at him.

“I brought you your favorite cake, as an apology.” He bit his lower lip as his cheeks lightly flushed, “But the weather is really nice today and I think some fresh air will do you good.”

“What are you suggesting?” I asked as I leaned forward, resting my chin on his left shoulder as I hugged him tightly.

“We drive out to our favorite spot by the waterfall and have a little picnic, we can pick up some food on the way, and then drive around aimlessly after the sun sets.” There was a short pause and a low hum coming from deep within Mingi’s chest, “How does that sound?”

New tears gathered in my eyes, but not for the previous reasons I was crying about not even twenty minutes ago. My chest was filled to the brim and my heart was beating fast and loudly in my ears, filling me with warmth and so much love that I felt like I would burst. Mingi always knew what I needed, he was always there for me, he always provided whatever he could best. I chuckled quietly and sniffed loudly again, nodding my head wordlessly before I pulled back and looked him in the eyes, a smile stretching onto my lips.

“I love you.”

Mingi’s giggle was deep and low, rolling his eyes playfully as if he tried to brush off those words, but unable to do so, “And I love you.”

I closed my eyes and leaned forward, closing the small gap between our lips as I pressed a soft, but lingering kiss against Mingi’s soft and warm lips. He tasted like the watermelon chapstick I have given him while we were on vacation, his lips chapped from the salty ocean air. And everything suddenly felt in place, I found serenity within myself as Mingi kissed back eagerly but softly, his lips capturing mine between his as his large palm melted into my lower back. Being in his arms and feeling him against myself brought a sense of security and contentment, of acceptance, and want that only Mingi could provide. His teeth lightly grazed against my lower lip as he nipped at it before just slightly pulling back, pressing his forehead against mine as he nuzzled his nose against the skin of my cheek, making me flush at the endearing gesture.

“I assume that’s a yes, then.” I chuckled and pressed a swift kiss against Mingi’s lips again.

“Yes, love of my life, let’s go.” I knew the nickname always flustered Mingi, making him call me cheesy. But this time he said nothing as he giggled quietly, scrunching his nose and squeezing his eyes shut in a cute manner, making my cheeks hurt from how widely I was smiling at him.

God, I have missed him, the love of my life. Song Mingi.

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