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sweet-as-an-angel · 10 months

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Miguel Having A Crush On You Would Include…

Warnings: Implications of Smut, Obsessive Miguel, Possessive Miguel, Implied Yandere Miguel, Miguel in Love, Vampire Marking, Marking (Kind Of), Fluff, Typical Crush Behaviour, Petnames/Nicknames, No Pronouns used for Reader Except ‘You’.

Him being absolutely OBSESSED with you.

Literally completely feral, down bad, infatuated, etc.

Initially, when he realised he’d started liking you in a romantic sense, he tried pushing you away; tried drowning his feelings in work, missions, Hell – even resolving petty spats between the Spiderpeople at the base. Anything to exorcise this rising feeling of butterflies in his chest whenever you were around. Vulnerability.

However, you were persistent.

You’d bring him lunch whenever you knew it would be a long day in the office for him, telling him that “Even the best superhero needs a sandwich every now and then!”

And by God were your sandwiches phenomenal.

Though he’d never admit it, his heart would skip a beat whenever the door to his office opened, knowing that it could be you paying him a visit with your delectable lunchables, or even just to check in on him. Make him feel special in ways nobody else had or could in years.

Eventually, this turned into a daily affair; one Miguel would watch the clock for, wait for. Long for.

Miguel also tried hiding his feelings when you brought him hand-crafted, love-filled desserts that he just couldn’t bring himself to ignore or throw away. Or, when Miles offered to take them off his hands, let anyone else have.

Eventually, there isn’t a day that goes by where you aren’t with him in some capacity. And it shows.

Whenever you’re late, even only by a few minutes, Miguel can feel his heart spike, asking Lyla where you are, if she can track you, etc.

“Sounds like you liiiike (Y/N)~” Lyla gives Miguel a knowing smile.

Miguel just grunts, ignores her. Though, he can feel the corners of his lips turning up, and hides them behind a well-placed hand, rubbing his temples.

Soft glances whenever you’re in the room, all his attention turning to you and you alone.

He just loves to stare at you. You’re so beautiful that he can’t understand why nobody else passing you has to stitch their dropped jaw back onto their face.

Then again, he is grateful. The fury that bubbles inside him whenever he catches someone glancing at you, gaze lustful, is all-consuming, enough to make his teeth grind, his eyes bleed a light rouge hue, piercing. He makes sure they’ll never cross paths with you again.

Gradually, your warmth and kindness thaws his walls, and, once the floodgates are open, neither you nor he can predict the dark ocean that is to flood your lives.

He doesn’t mean to throw himself full-force into his feelings, but after being so guarded for so long, he just can’t help it.

Becomes overly-concerned with every facet of your life. More so than he already was.

Constantly trying to find out information about you, though being stumped as to how to do so without arousing your suspicion.

Asks Lyla to track you, see what you’re doing, who you’re with, their relation to you.

However, she begins to deny Miguel such luxuries, telling him to “Grow a pair and ask (Y/N) yourself!”

When he realises Lyla is steadfast in her resolve, he does so. Reluctantly.

Though, once he starts, he finds it difficult to stop.

“Where are you going after work?”, “Are you going out tonight with anyone?”, “Who?”

Eventually, you just look up at him, seemingly oblivious to his growing desperation, and say: “Gosh, Miguel, you’re starting to sound like you’re my boyfriend or something!”

His heart stops. His throat dries and he just looks at you, eyes wide.

One second passes. Then two. Then–

“Oh– uh– yeah... I mean, not that that’s weird, right? Unless you think it is weird, then–”

Lyla has to step in and save him from himself, telling him he has ‘urgent business’ in one of the other wings of the facility.

His suit suddenly feels too tight and too hot beneath the collar whenever he has to speak with you alone.

And tight in…other places when his mind wanders to the more intimate aspects of your hypothetical relationship.

Miguel likes to rationalise this as him preparing how best to please you when the time, inevitably, comes for him to claim you, make you his. At least, this staves off the post-nut clarity (guilt) just a little longer when he’s pursuing a release, blasphemous images of you running through his mind.

A good example of this occurs almost nightly, with Miguel thoroughly loving a pillow clad in a shirt he’d lent you once, your scent still woven, though faded, into the fabric.

Many nights, his face is pressed to the cotton of that shirt, muffling his lips and his moans as his teeth sink into your temporary body, extending, marking, hand moving fervently beneath the bed sheets, your name the chant of many a spell of ardour.

You might mistake that red glow on his cheeks for the illumination of the console screens, but anyone who looks close enough knows better.

He loves showing you around the facility. Especially when your eyes light up and you remark how intelligent he is for “Doing this all on your own,”

Any compliment from you makes his heart thrum and his cheeks burn with the urge to smile. And, if it’s only you in his company, he does so.

Maybe even give you a nervous laugh.

You’re the only one he feels comfortable with showing emotion to.

He hopes that his displays aren’t lost on you; that you know him well enough to know that every smile, every laugh, is for you and you only.

And he is determined to, one day, make that smile of yours for him. And only him.

But, for now, he will content himself with daydreams and night ventures into territory not yet known, all the while possessing a seat beside you, being a shoulder for you to cry on, an ear into which you may pour your worries, a hero on whom you can always depend in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

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corpsebasil · 1 year

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Steal My Girl

Ethan’s roommate has the girl of his dreams, and he hates it.

You laughed, then screeched when Chad picked you up and spun you around.

“Chad put me down.” You demanded, rolling your eyes at his antics. He had a crush on you and constantly flirted, but it served more to annoy and amuse you than to win you over. “Oh my god. Stop.”

“There you are!” Chad exclaimed, still keeping you over his shoulder as he spoke to someone out of your line of sight. “Ethan, my man.” Your stomach twisted as you peered around Chad’s waist, seeing an upside down version of your friend.

“Hey E.” You laughed, waving and staring at his outfit. “What the hell are you dressed as? A robot?”

“I’m a knight.” He sighed and Chad finally put you down but swung an arm over your shoulders. “Chad didn’t give me much notice so I could get a costume.”

“Look at this snack.” Chad told you, pointing at Ethan. “I’ve been trying to find him a girl all night. Got any suggestions?”

“Ew, get off me.” You wrinkled your nose, pushing him away. “I’m not helping prostitute Ethan off on some sorority sister.”

“Suit yourself.” Chad said, grinning down at you. “Speaking of hookups, though,” he lowered his voice, playing with the strap of your dress. “Wanna go upstairs?”

“Ugh.” You moved away towards Ethan, grabbing your friend’s hand. “Save me from him. Please.”

“My heart longs for you, Y/N!” Chad yelled, making your face warm when several people gave you a curious glance.

“I need a drink.” You told Ethan, grumbling a curse under your breath.

You and Ethan had gotten tipsy fast and now stood in the kitchen, laughing as he told you a story about…what was he saying?

“What?” You asked, leaning closer to him to hear. He seemed nervous, but then he always did around girls. You thought nothing of it. “Speak up, E.”

“I was saying you look really pretty.” He smiled shyly, pointing to your outfit. “Your costume is cool.”

“It’s a dress, E. Nothing special.” You said, grinning, but still felt flattered. “I like your cardboard robo-suit too.”

“A knight. A knight.”

“Y/N.” You turned your head and met Chad’s eyes, his smile warm and friendly. Despite yourself the alcohol made you looser and you allowed him to take your hand. “Come on. I need a partner for beer pong.”

“Ask Tara.” You laughed, tugging your hand out of his grip. “I’m talking to my baby boy Ethan.”

“Your son can fend for himself.” Chad scoffed, raising an eyebrow at his roommate. “Can mommy and daddy leave you on your own, or do you need a babysitter?”

“Oh my god Chad.” Your grin was wide as you looked at his expression, his features filled with fake concern.

“I need my girl to annihilate people in beer pong. Do me a service, bro.”

“Yeah that—” Ethan glanced at you, then quickly away. “That’s fine. I don’t need a…a babysitter.” He winced and you frowned, opening your mouth to say more, but Chad was already pulling you away. You looked over your shoulder though, and saw Ethan looking dejected, before he pushed through the party and towards the door.

“Wait, Chad.” You said, pulling out of his grasp as you shoved your way through the party. “Ethan!” You called. “Ethan wait!”

He turned his head at your approach, brows furrowing as you slipped out the front door, his feet pausing on the driveway.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, panting slightly. “Aren’t you going to watch me win? You know I’m the best.”

“I’m tired.” He said, eyes sweeping across your face. “I think I wanna go home. But thanks. See you tomorrow.”

“Wait, no—” You grabbed his arm, unsure of why you were desperate for him to stay. “I’ll come with you. We can go to my place and have movie night like we used to.” Before you’d started receiving attention from Chad, you didn’t have to say. “Come on E.”

“I’m not sure if that’s—”

“Hey, what the Hell?” Chad asked, leaving the house and approaching the two of you. You let go of Ethan’s arm as he made it to your side. “You okay, man? I was just about to make you a Chad Supreme. He said, referring to his noxious concoction of tequila, vodka, Malibu, Sprite and fruit punch, a drink you secretly called Alcoholics Anonymous behind Chad’s back.

“Im tired.” Ethan said, avoiding your eyes. “Im gonna go—”

”Watch a movie with me.” You interrupted, giving Chad a wide smile. “Make me a Chad Supreme to go, will you? There’s empty water bottles in the kitchen.”

“You’re not staying?” He asked, confused. “But you..” He shook his head, forcing a smile. “Fine. Just because you’re so hot, and you know I love you. One Chad to go.” He turned and dashed back into the house as you valiantly ignored his strongly worded remark.

“Listen,” you said, glancing back at Ethan, who was watching where Chad had ran off to with a pained sort of look. “we’ll get pizza and do pickle shots and watch Stab. What do you think?”

Ethan took a moment to respond, biting his lip, before he nodded.

“I’m gonna need at least half that Chad Supreme, though.” He said, glancing at you with amusement in his brown eyes. “After hearing Chad call himself daddy I think I need a healthy blackout to make me forget.”

“Do you need a babysitter?” You teased, grinning as you reached out to flick his nose, and he caught your wrist in his hand.

“Listen here, young lady—”

“For the angel present." Chad declared, jogging up to you and passing you a bottle filled with suspicious looking pink liquid. "Keep your junk wrapped, E., if you’re planning on making moves on my girl. Y/N, are we still getting Dunkin in the morning?"

"We'll see." You responded, rolling your eyes. You still weren’t sure if you liked him calling you my girl. "Goodnight, Chad." You batted him away when he attempted to kiss your cheek and he grinned, running back into the party. "God, he's a mess." You scoffed, turning to give Ethan comically wide eyes. "Ready to go?"

You placed your head in Ethan's lap and stretched out on the couch, your skin practically buzzing. You two had split half the Chad Supreme, leaving the rest in the fridge, but you were almost certain you were going to have a headache in the morning.

"We need to chug water." You said, peering up at Ethan. He smiled and played idly with your hair, his eyes moving back to the movie. You were halfway through Stab, a pizza split between the two of you. "Hey E?" You asked, staring up.

"Hmm?"

"What do you think of me and Chad?"

His face dropped a fraction and he shrugged.

"I think he's...Chad." At your no-nonsense expression he laughed. "What? If you're happy with the ridiculous frat boy types, you do you."

"Shut up." You grinned, poking him in the stomach. But then your smile fell, and you bit your lip. "I think he really likes me. But I don't think.." You looked up at the ceiling, unsure of how to say it. "I don't like...just him. You know?"

"You don't?" Ethan asked, shooting you a surprised expression. You shook your head no, and a tentative smile pulled on his mouth. "Who's the lucky guy?"

"Ugh." You groaned, sitting up and moving off the couch into the kitchen. "Forget it. It's unimportant."

“Hey, wait, tell me about him.” Ethan laughed, following you into the kitchen. You both were tipsy as hell and he grabbed your hand, tugging you back towards him. “Come on. Best friends don’t keep secrets, right?”

“He’s—” you glanced down at his hand, your stomach twisting when he ran his thumb across your knuckles, making no move to let go. “it doesn’t matter, E.”

“I wanna know.” He insisted, his brown eyes soft and sleepy from the alcohol. “Come on, Y/N. I can keep a secret.”

Your smile was wide as you pulled away, backing up towards the fridge. He followed you every step, his brown eyes glued to your face as he subtly admired you, your indifference something like a knife to his gut. He liked you. God he liked you. And if you were going to have a crush on someone besides Chad, he wanted to at least put a face to the name he was going to resent.

“Tell me." He said again, watching as you pulled the Chad Supreme out of the fridge and took a sip. "Come on, how bad can they be?"

"Ew." You wrinkled your nose, passing him the bottle. "Drink first. Then guess."

Ethan took a swig, holding eye-contact, before setting the bottle on the counter.

"Do I know the guy?" He asked, searching his brain. There wasn't a single other guy in your friend group, nor anyone that he saw you with on a regular basis. A mischievous little smile curled on your lips as you nodded, then your eyes widened, surprised, as he moved forward and touched your chin, tilting your face up to his. "What does he look like?"

"He's...really cute." You admitted, biting your lip as you stared up at him. "And he's really smart."

"Tell me more." Ethan laughed lowly, moving closer to you and backing you up against the kitchen counter. "Would I like the guy?"

"I..." You swallowed, your hand reaching out involuntarily to clutch the fabric of his shirt. "Well he um...he's really kind. He's always there for me." Then you grinned. "But he has horrible taste in movies. I always have to pick them out."

Ethan rolled his eyes, looping his arm around your waist. Your heart was pounding in your chest, stomach twisting as he spoke, his hand moving from your chin to clasp the back of your neck.

"And do you see yourself...being with this guy?"

"I don't know." You said, searching his brown eyes for any hint of what he was thinking. You'd never seen him act so confident before. It was like every ounce of shyness had gone out the door since the moment he'd stepped into the apartment. "I'm hoping he'll make the first move."

Ethan stared for a moment, his chest rising and falling with his breathing, before he asked, "and are you...really into this guy? Like more than Chad?"

"Yeah." You licked your lips subtly, but his eyes still caught the movement. "He's all I can think about sometimes."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Ethan asked, moving closer, his jeans brushing your legs. "Tell him how you feel." His voice was low and raspy and you almost shivered. His hands slid to cup your face and you couldn't breathe; you stared at him, eyes slightly heavy, as you glanced from his mouth to his eyes.

"Ethan..." You whispered, eyes closing at his words and the feel of his hands.

“Tell him how you feel, Y/N."

"I can't." You whispered, your heart pounding in your chest. He was hardly two inches away, and the smell of his cologne was intoxicating. "I'm scared."

Ethan's breathing seemed unsteady as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, murmuring a soft, "What's there to be scared of?" As he peered down at you.

"What if he doesn't want me?" You asked, glancing up at him. Still, though, you reached out, fisting his shirt in your hands and pulling him an inch closer.

"I..." Ethan's mouth went slightly dry as he watched you. "I think he does."

You stared up at him, heart pounding, and, before you could change your mind, leaned up to kiss him, pressing your mouth to his with as much force as you dared. Ethan's fingers tightened a fraction on your jaw as he kissed you back, making a low noise of pleasure against your mouth.

"God, Y/N." He whispered, his hands sliding into your hair as he kissed you again, then again. "I've wanted to do that for way too long now."

"It's you." You whispered, chasing after his touch. "It's you I want. Not Chad."

"I was hoping you were talking about me." He laughed, resting his forehead against your own. "This was going to be really awkward if I was touching you like this and then you said you had a crush on Tanner from Econ."

You laughed and tugged his face down to yours, kissing him again.

"We still have pizza. And Chad Supreme. And Stab." You said, looping your arms around his waist. "Wanna go?"

"Yes." He said, then gave you a coy smile. "Text time I see Chad, I'm calling you my girl."

#ethan landry fanfiction #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #ethan bailey #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x you #scream six #scream 6

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rottenaero · 1 year

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Ao3

Part 1

Part 3

Part two to the roommates idea

Whenever the mall ‘burns down’, Eddie is just chilling at home; not doing anything special.

Actually, thats a complete lie. He hadn't seen Steve since he left for his shift the day before, and currently has his band+Wayne scattered in the living room as he paces.

“He may as well be dead, he always calls before staying the night somewhere, and he totally despises that place, so why would he stay after hours?” He comes to a halt infront of Jeff who looks considering. “What?!"

“Maybe, consider, he just forgot to call you." Eddie scoffed, “ ‘Maybe he just forgot’, except you don't know him, Jeff. Steve doesn't forget, tell ‘em Wayne."

Wayne nods from his spot on the lazyboy, “ ‘S true, he'd rather call at 2am than have us worrying.”

Gareth rolls his eyes, “Look Edmund, I get your worried about you boyfriend and all but why did we have to get dragged into this?" He complained, and Eddie began pacing again.

“ Not,my boyfriend, yet, and you’re getting-”

A ringing interrupts him.

The pacing stopped almost as soon as it began, and he darts to the phone. “ Y’hello, it's Eddie talking.” A sharp breath drew from the other end of the line.

“Hey Eds."

Eddie smiled, “Holy shit, Stevie. I thought you died. Wayne and the guys are literally gathered in the living room.” Upon hearing the name, Wayne visibly relaxed, going from hunched over to leaning backwards in seconds.

“Yeah I'm- Well shit not okay but I'm not dead.”In the background there was a noise, barely noticeable but-

“Wait, what? Are those sirens? Are you hurt? What the hell-” Wayne leaned forward again.

“I'm at the mall, there's been, uh, an accident? I don't- they took my keys, I need a ride back home.”

“Who took your keys? Steve you can't just be all ominous and-” The phone line shut off. "Fuck!”

Grant, who hasn't been helpful at all, stood up. "What did he do?”

Eddie groans, running a hand through his greasy hair, “Needs us to pick him up, might be hurt. He's such a- Wayne we're taking my van, you guys coming?”

Turns out the answer is yes.

They arrive at the mall five minutes later, mostly because Eddie was driving like a bat outta hell, to every emergency vehicle you can think of, plus thirty more, surrounding the place.

Eddie roles his window down when a cop signals him. “What are you doing over here?"

The metalhead bites his lip, what the hell, “Uh, I'm here to pick up Steve Harrington? He got involved in whatever's happening.”

The cops nods, "Alright, park your vehicle over there, and go get him.”

He does as he's told, a surprising feat showing just how scared he was, because Steve being hurt could mean so many things.

They get out the car, Wayne being the leading man, and head to where the commotion is.

The mall was totally destroyed, a couple kids he didn't know were sitting around, surrounded by their parents, there's a couple teens too, Nancy Wheeler, Johnny Byers, a girl in a sailor costume, and-

Eddie’s heart stopped and he fucking sped forward. “ Holy shit, what the fuck man." Steve looked like hell, understatement of the century but-

His face was bruised and bloody, his hands wrapped in casts, his hair was flat and gross and he was still in his damn sailor costume.

“Hey Munsons, Gareth, Jeff, Grant. It's the whole Scooby gang, or Smurfs, whoever you prefer.” Eddie grabbed his shoulders, and stared him dead in the eye. “ What. The. Fuck. Are you high too?!”

“Just what the hell did you get yourself into. " Wayne said more than asked, shaking his head.

Steve buzzed his lips, his eyebrows furrowed and he brought a hand to them and-

God they were split, and bleeding now. He looked back up at the long haired man infront of him, ignoring Wayne's question-not-question.

“Nah, just recovering from being drugged. Hey this is rivveting conversation and shit, but like, I wanna go home and sleep in your bed, man. Or the couch, or the floor.”

He let out a loud laugh, “Fuck I am not picky right now, I'll even take the back of the van.”

“Christ."

They don't talk about it, not after Hellfire goes home, not the next morning, not after Steve heals. They just don't, because the news told them all they need to know, that there was a fire. Eddie just assumed when they said he was drugged, that he meant medically.

(He didn't)

#stranger Things #steddie ficlet #steddie #ficlet #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie munson x steve harrington #and they were roommates #oh my god they were roommates #crisisinverted17 #crisisinverted17's roommate au

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sixosix · 7 months

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wc 900, guys i’m still a 4.0 lore player so forgive me if lyney’s getting ooc now 🙁 but anw ENJOY THIS MESS OF A GUY!! requested by anon

or, lyney can't stop staring at your lips

Lyney is beginning to think he might be obsessed with you. Or that you’re bad for him.

He’s stumbling over his lines when he sees you in the audience, his fingers catch on each other when he catches you smiling knowingly, and he gets nervous—the most absurd tell. It’s unlike him to feel his heart pounding in his ears when he’s already started the show. None of this feels natural.

It gets to the point where Lynette has to drag him off after a scene, worry evident on her usually-passive features. “What’s happening to you?”

“I think I might be going insane,” Lyney admits, running his hand across his face. “I can feel it, Lynette. I’ve gone mad.”

All because you kissed him and he damn near exploded on the spot.

It wasn’t a special kiss. There wasn’t even tongue involved. He didn’t even see it coming. Hell, it was half a second and only on the side of his lips. Can it even be counted as a kiss?

If kisses could drive Lyney to a point where he can’t stop thinking about your lips, it might.

Lyney makes a pitiful noise, like a wounded animal. Lynette sighs heavily, as in relief that it’s not anything serious. But it is something serious. How is he supposed to move on in his life when you’re the only thing running through his head?

“Lynette,” Lyney cries, “this isn’t normal. I’ve caught something. Check my temperature.”

“You’re lovesick,” she replies simply, batting the hand that’s trying to get her to place her palm on his forehead. “and you have a show to finish. Get it together, brother.”

Get it together. Yeah, he can do that—if the object of his desires isn’t seated in the front row. But for now, Lynette is glaring daggers, stern like a mother, and Lyney sucks it up and makes a point of avoiding your eyes later on.

Avoiding your eyes usually means staring at other parts of your face.

Lyney feels the last bit of his sanity chip away when you decided it would be a splendid idea to wear something glossy over your lips, as if he wasn’t already distracted enough as is. You have got to be doing this on purpose.

Your tongue swipes over your bottom lip. He feels lightheaded.

“You look desperate,” Lynette tells him, which is frankly enough to make him want the ground to swallow him whole.

This also gets to a point where Freminet pulls him aside and asks him if he’s feeling sick. He feels like it. Lovesick and desperate, as Lynette so elegantly put it.

How embarrassing. Is this what you’ve reduced him to? Freminet looked at him with all wide, worried eyes, and Lyney can’t outright say the reason for his predicament. He excuses that he feels tired, and he doesn’t mention that his lips are feeling incredibly lonely.

Freminet, precious and understanding and thankfully unaware, nods and says, “I hope you feel better soon.” Lyney finds that unlikely, but he thanks him anyway. “Oh, and you should look behind you.”

Lyney turns and finds you waving at him, gesturing for him.Your fingers curl and it almost looks like you’re calling for a pet. And Lyney, weak and obsessed Lyney, follows without a second thought. Try as he might, he can never stay too long away from you, because as much as you’re driving him crazy, seeing you, hearing you, is enough to brighten his entire day and momentarily forget you’re the reason why he almost messed up with his lines.

He stands before you with a bit of distance. You want him gone so you pull him by the collar until his head is dipped down.

“You look feverish,” you say. Feverish, desperate, the list could go on and on.

I feel like it, Lyney wants to say; instead, his words are caught on the tip of his tongue as your eyes trace over his entire face. He feels as if he’s laying himself bare for you, but he finds that he doesn’t mind it at all, not when he’s soaking up your attention like he doesn’t know how to do anything else.

“Hey,” you whisper, a testament to your proximity, a smirk on your face, “my eyes are up here, Lyney.”

Lyney frowns, feeling petulant now that he’s aware of your schemes. “I’m not being indecent; please don’t phrase it like that.” Or is it worse that he’s ogling your mouth?

You laugh brightly, and he melts just a little. “You’re too obvious, Lyney.” He loves it when you say his name. He’s addicted to how your mouth carves his name. A poke on his cheek startles him enough to look up to your eyes, shame crawling in his cheeks. “See? You’re doing it again.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about.”

“Lyney.” You have got to stop doing that. Then again, he’s starting to think you’re doing it on purpose seeing how it affects him terribly. “If you want something, take it. Don’t stand around and do nothing about it.”

Lyney’s breath hitches, his blush climbing higher from his neck to his entire face. “Don’t just say that.” He can’t handle your crooked grin. He pulls you to his chest and buries his face on your neck—if it’s to keep your face away or to hide his expression, no one would be able to tell. “You can’t just say that.”

“I know what I’m saying. Don’t take me for a fool.”

Your lips brush his. His mind blanks. You’re bad for him—you have to be, but everything that comes after feels natural, at least.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n #genshin x you #x reader

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shadowbriar · 10 months

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Regulus Black ‐ Jasmine, Lavender, and Poppy

Pairing : Regulus Black x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 0.6k Warning : Nothing, just pure fluff. Synopsis : Regulus made sure that she would never forget his scent ever again. Notes : My first blurb. Should I make more of these? If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

She remembers his scent well. That very special smell of oud and leather, something that portrays luxury and obscurity. Something that feels like home. Something that screams him— Regulus Arcturus Black.

But poking on Regulus has always been one of her most favourite things to do. Even before they were romantic, teasing him has always been second nature for her. His reactions have always brought her bliss. Their harmless banter is what fuels their day and it feels like the perfect time for her to pull the first taunt of the day.

"I don't smell you from the Amortentia," She lied, teasing her boyfriend whose brows are now pinched high from the offensive words she spilled "I smelled cinnamon, wet grass, and linen."

"Bullshit, I smelled you. There's no way you smelled someone else."

Shs shrugs, closing her textbook that hasn't been read ever since they entered the library, "Maybe you smelled wrong."

"I'm never wrong about these kinds of things."

"Yeah?" She challenges, propping her chin in the palm of her hand "What did you smell?"

"I smelled jasmine, lavender, and poppy."

"That doesn't smell like me. You're just listing random flowers."

Regulus raised an eyebrow, "Your perfume's base is jasmine. You drop a few lavender oil to your seal wax on all of our letters. Your garden is filled with poppies. You are jasmine, lavender, and poppy."

A smile blooms on her face. It was one thing to be satisfied by teasing your boyfriend and another to have him spelling the little details of you. Regulus has always been the observant party of the two, she just never realised how much of her he's taking notes of.

"Also, Love, your house is always decorated with those three flowers on every corner. You are what I smelled from Amortentia. You are my soulmate."

"Well, no one said Amortentia smells like your soulmate. They say it smells like someone you're attracted to so maybe that's why." She continues her scheme, concealing her blooming heart "Maybe I'm attracted to someone else now."

Regulus' brows rose higher, looking even more appalled at her words, "Are you being serious right now?"

She shrugs.

Regulus stood from his seat. Perhaps teasing him in the library when they're the last people there wasn't such a brilliant idea. Merlin knows what he might do now. Regulus might be a calm and collected person but wrong poke and you'll wake the fury inside him.

She started to inch away, pushing her seat back until it hit the wall, giving her no other space to escape. Regulus kneeled down, levelling to her eye level and eyes her deeply. His brows were still knitted in displease but his eyes were soft. Her plan to keep an aloof expression has evidently failed as a playful smile cracks on her lips, anticipating for his next move whilst praying that he wasn't genuinely angry.

"You're a menace." He says before kissing her.

Regulus pulled her chair closer, locking her in place as he put his hands on her sides. It wasn't like she's planning to leave, anyway. No one in their right mind would want to go when they're being kissed by him, especially with such an intimate and asserting position.

One hell of a man, Regulus is.

A victorious smile was plastered on her face when they pulled away. It was a short kiss. Just enough for him to prove to her just how wrong she is about the scents she's attracted to. Regulus knew that she was lying, that she was just trying to get his reaction, yet he complied with her charade anyway.

Regulus now stands from his position. He took off his robe, tossing it carelessly to the seat he occupied a couple minutes ago. He then takes off his jumper, making her cheeks burn from the sight. He surely knows how to keep her around.

"The library might not give you the best privacy if you're planning to go nude, Love." She comments.

Regulus rolls his eyes, handing her his jumper, "Wear it."

"Why?"

"So you won't ever forget my scent again."

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generalllimaginesss · 4 months

Text

author’s note: I blacked out while writing this, so it will be as much of a surprise to me when I wake up and reread it as it will to you when you read it for the first time. It wasn’t requested, just something that my brain came up with and wouldn’t let me sleep until I finished it. It’s loosely based off of Olivia Rodrigo’s The Grudge and the movie Sweet Home Alabama (my favorite movie). Also, this is completely made up in my head and in no way reflects something that Luke Hughes has done, or will do. It’s also 2:06 AM and I can’t promise that it’s proofread very well because I can barely keep my eyes open (I worked a double today).

Warnings: cursing, ANGST, cheating, kinda sad but has a good ending. Slow beginning, but I promise it gets better!

Without further ado….

The Grudge

“Hello?”

The single word that was the catapult for the demise of your relationship. The single word that changed the course of what you pictured your future as.

Luke’s side of the call was silent, the only noise able to be heard was his breathing, heavy as if the weight of the world was crushing his lungs, deflating him of life.

He wasn’t supposed to be calling. He had told you he was having a guys week, a time for him to regroup with his brothers and friends at the lake house. It was his own little sanctuary away from the life that he had worked so hard for. A quiet place. He had asked for that time, to which you agreed, he needed a break.

“Luke? Everything ok?”

He wanted nothing more than to hang up the phone in that instance. The reality that he was about to destroy the last bit of trust that you held for him constricting him as he fought with his vocal cords, trying like hell to form some form of vocalization.

“I need to tell you something,” He managed to squeeze the words out, every bit of courage mustered into it. The feeling of facing the mistake that he had made seemed impossible compared to simply just refusing to acknowledge it. He could ignore it all, ghost you, and pretend like he had never ruined everything. He had ruined your relationship, your love. You. He had ruined you, including everything that came from the relationship the two of you developed a couple of summers before he had left to play for Michigan.

Ironic that it would begin and end during the summer.

“Ok. Are you-”

“Are you alone?”

His brothers will kill him when they find out, but your family? The thought of them being there to wipe your tears and listen to your rants that have to do with him break his heart. He had developed a special relationship with your dad, your mom always put a stocking out for him during the holiday season, your brother? He had taught your little brother how to skate, how to play hockey. Even though he couldn’t coach your little brother’s team, he had supported him since the beginning. He had bought him his first jersey. 43.

“Yeah, Luke. You’re scaring me.”

“God, I fucking hate myself. I’m so sorry,” Sobbing, the sound of his arm wiping his nose could be heard. He knew he shouldn’t cry. He chose this.

He knew he didn’t always treat you like you should have, no deserved, to be treated. He didn’t spend time with you like he should have, he didn’t tell you he loved you enough. When you yelled at him about things, he would scream back. He would never hit you, but his words cut through your core, sometimes feeling worse than what you imagined the sting of one of his slaps might feel like.

The anxiety that stemmed from Luke’s call gripped your lungs, confusion coursing through your body outweighing the blood that sucked at carrying the oxygen at the moment. There was nothing random about your relationship, he didn’t surprise you with anything, much less a phone call.

Something is wrong.

The silence was deafening, overwhelmingly so.

“I tried to tell myself that you would never find this out, but there was somebody taking pictures and I need you to hear it from me first, ok?” He closed his eyes forcing himself to find some shred of courage left inside of him.

“Ok,” The word was breathy as it left your lips, a courtesy to encourage him to continue.

“I cheated,” It flowed out of his mouth in such a casual way that it felt like somebody had stabbed you in the back, twisting the knife and watching as you writhed in pain. The taste of iron flooded your senses as you bit your cheek to hold yourself together.

“We went to one of the local bars. She was the bartender, she knew us. Trevor invited her to the house after her shift and me and her ended up alone together while the others were out back and one thing led to another…one of the guys took a picture and posted it on their story. They forgot about you.” He tried to explain it in a way that redeemed himself. He was only 20 years old…this bartender could’ve taken advantage of him, but you knew him.

He didn’t get close to just anybody, he was the gate to his space. Nobody would get through the gate if he didn’t want them to, including this girl. Which made the bile that was building in your throat much more bitter. The fact that he not only cheated, but is trying to play victim makes you bubble with rage. Luke Hughes was very good at many things, but the one thing he had never quite mastered the role of was “victim.”

The shock coursed through your body like metal to a magnet, searching endlessly for something to smash into and deciding your heart was the place to do that. It felt like you forgot to breathe, your lungs aching for a breath.

“Y/N?” He willed you to talk, silence causing more anxiety than your anger ever would have.

“I never would have done this to you,” Your whisper spoke more volumes than a scream would have, cutting through the phone and going straight through Luke’s body. He wished you would scream at him, tell him he fucked up, but the way you said those words made him feel like this was it. He couldn’t come back from this one.

“I’m sorry,” His words were meaningless, but he spoke them nonetheless.

Those two words sent you into a silent rage, one that wrecked the inside of your mind but couldn’t be seen by anyone else. You hung up the phone, throwing it across your room and immediately packing everything that had to do with Luke into a box that you found.

Packing 4 years worth of things that you acquired from him was emotionally draining, each article triggering memories through the years.

His first Michigan Hockey sweatshirt that he had bought himself packed into the bottom of the box reminded you of the date he had planned. He had snuck the two of you into the arena when no one was there and taught you to skate, skills that still stick with you to this day. His first hoodie became yours that night, the smell of his cologne long gone from the comfort it brought you many nights when you felt lonely.

A Devils snow globe and jersey that was decorated with the number 43, his number, packed next. He had bought it for you the day he was drafted, convinced that it would be worth something one day. And it was. Just not to you anymore. The snow globe was attached to a memory that was better left forgotten. It was for your birthday, which happened to be the day after his. When you had gone all out for his 20th birthday, buying him a new custom suit and designer shoes that required months of savings, he gave you a snow globe that “you could add to your collection.” You had said some backhanded things to him, a huge fight came from that. A fight on your birthday, something else that you would’ve never done to him.

The last items consisted of hoodies, a few pairs of sweatpants and boxers, and a couple of jackets. The last thing, however, was something that you didn’t know if you could part with.

It was a letter that Luke had wrote you for Valentine’s Day the second year of your relationship, a sweet surprise that you weren’t expecting with your usual bouquet of daisies and roses, your two favorite flowers.

When you doubted your relationship with Luke in the past, when arguments and fights felt like it was all it consisted of, you always found your way back to his letter. He had told you that you were his end game, that there would never be somebody else that was better suited for him. He poured his heart out in that letter, telling you that he was going to marry you one day. One day when he had made it to the NHL and could roll in money, he was going to buy a rock for your finger and a huge house for all of the babies that you talked about.

Rereading the letter normally made you remember the good times, when things were good, but under the circumstances now it made you want to burn it, to watch his words turn to ash, just like the promises he had made to you.

Meaningless. His words were meaningless now.

It wasn’t always his fault, no. There were instances where you said things that you knew hurt him, things that echoed in the back of his head every now and then. Something along the lines of him never being as good as his brothers, that he would always be in their shadow. That Luke Hughes would be known as “just another Hughes brother.”

Some days he felt like that statement couldn’t be more true, that he would never live up to the records that Quinn and Jack seemed to break every time they stepped on the ice. Some days he just couldn’t see it coming together for him.

But other days he knew he was determined to make a name for himself, for Luke. The Hughes name was a force to be reckoned with. Luke wanted to be even better than his last name. Whatever it took, sometimes at the expense of those around him.

You snatched the letter that was stuck in the corner of the mirror that perched on top of your dresser, the sound of the paper crisp beneath your fingertips. As much as you wanted to destroy the letter, you figured it would be better to send it back to Luke. He needed to see all of the promises he broke and hurt he’s caused.

The paper was the last thing in the box, folded neatly on top of everything else.

Closing the box, you carried it to your car, placing it in the backseat behind the driver’s side. If there’s one thing that could be payback to Luke, it was telling his parents. He thrived on his parent’s approval, likely a symptom of being the youngest brother of an extremely successful family.

Ellen and Jim’s faces burned the back of your mind, so many memories that consisted of the two of them. Countless games at Michigan were spent with the two of them, as well as a couple of trips to New Jersey. You had helped Ellen cook supper many times, and watched as Jim coached his sons. Ellen’s pep talks were rarely intended for you, but you always felt like something could be learned from her wisdom.

The drive was silent, muscle memory the only way you could manage to get there in the state you were in. You didn’t know if the lights were green or if you used your blinker, all you could think about was Luke admitting to cheating. All of the shit you had been through with each other, all of the petty fights, had finally come to a head. You may have gone low, below the belt at some point in time, but this? You never could have ruined him like this, no matter how bad you wanted to.

As hurt as you were, you were numb. Tears wouldn’t fall, your body still in shock over the news.

As you drove up the paved driveway to the house that had become your second home, the emotions hit you when you saw Ellen in the flower beds, digging up weeds and planting new flowers.

She had heard a car approaching, causing her to look up and recognize you. Although she loved for you to visit, you normally didn’t come over unless Luke was with you, especially now that him and Jack owned the lake house.

She wiped at the sweat that was beading her forehead, dirt from her work gloves sticking in some of her blonde locks that were glued to her face. She smiled at you, before confusion flashed and she saw that you were carrying a box.

“Hi, Doll! Luke’s not here, but I’m glad you stopped by!” Her warm tone and kind smile didn’t fade, even if she did notice something off about your demeanor.

Her voice broke you. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to bring her and Jim into this. Maybe you should have just threw everything that connected you to Luke in a garbage can and called it a day.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” She walked towards you with her arms open, noticing your quivering lips and teary eyes.

She was drenched in sweat from the summer sun, but you didn’t mind it. Dropping the box on the driveway, you allowed her to wrap her arms around you tightly. Her embrace gave you comfort as sobs racked through your body. How could such a loving mom and dad create such a jack ass? They had done perfect with 2/3 of their sons…what happened with Luke?

“Do you want to go inside? Jim’s working on a sink faucet, but he won’t mind,” She ushered you inside, her hand gently pushing your back.

Nodding, you wiped your nose on your sleeve and allowed her to walk you inside. She quickly washed her hands at the sink Jim was working at, earning a few objections from him, but she hushed him and motioned to you.

His face filled with concern as he noticed something wrong with you. He could fix a lot of things, but girls was something he would leave to his wife.

The leather of the couch soothed the heat that the summer sun had left on your skin. Ellen joined, sitting next to you as she rubbed your back, calming you. She truly was like a second mom.

“Is everything ok?” She held onto your arm, the pressure from her fingers sending tingles to your brain.

“No,” You croaked, the single word rattling your throat as it struggled to exit.

“What happened?” Her voice had dropped below her regular volume, but above a whisper. She cut her eyes at Jim who was attempting to listen from the kitchen.

“He cheated…”

The shock hit his parents as hard as it did you. Quinn would never cheat, Jack? It was questionable sometimes. But they’re baby? The one that had endured the lectures from his parents the longest, the one that had seen his brother’s mistakes and learned from them, the one that seemed so in love with you that nothing could ever separate you both? It seemed nearly impossible. Surely it was a mistake.

“How do you know? The press always lies…” She trailed off, your eyes connecting to hers.

“He told me,” The strength you tried to regain from your prior meltdown was useless as your voice trembled, “…said that he wanted to tell me before somebody else did.”

“Oh, Honey. I’m so sorry,” She pulled you into her arms, watching as Jim rounded the corner to join. You were like the daughter the two of them had always wanted, so seeing you hurt killed them in return. And at the hands of their son? They were immensely disappointed. They didn’t raise him like this.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what to do, and I probably should have left you both out of it,” Your attempts at stopping the free-flowing tears were useless, so you embraced each one as it fell, “…um, I brought his stuff back. I know he’s at the lake house, but I don’t think I can see him right now. I really wish we could have worked. You two will never know how much you and your boys mean to me.”

“Likewise, sweet girl. I wish I could make this all better. You may not feel like it right now, but our family will always hold a spot for you,” Ellen reassured, a hum of agreement resonating within Jim.

“Anytime you want, and I’m serious, our door will always be open for you. No matter the time or circumstance, do you understand?” Jim waited for you to respond, a nod of your head, before embracing you again.

Their words meant so much, but the hurt still ached, seemingly never ending.

You said your goodbyes, taking in the house that you would probably never see again. The walls holding memories that only those in the house would ever understand or appreciate.

Closing the front door felt like closing a chapter on your life. A chapter that felt like it was ending in the middle with no resolve, but it closed.

It needed to.

———

As the New Year approached, your parents reminded you of the plans they had that would draw them away from home. They claimed that they celebrated Christmas with you, but the New Year meant that you were alone in a house that felt big and lonely while they celebrated with their fellow group of middle aged parents.

The months had passed, agonizingly, since Luke’s cheating admittance. The summer turned to fall and fall into winter, getting colder like you were allowing your heart to do.

A few dates here and there did nothing but remind you that the guy wasn’t Luke. They should’ve been better than Luke since they actually treated you with respect and checked every box that a girl had.

But the lack of teasing, of being the biggest pain in your ass and best friend, made the hole in your life bigger. You were sure nothing would help, not even the texts from Ellen and Jim, periodically, made it better.

They all consisted of the same topic: “How are you doing?”

It was the same old same old, until it wasn’t. Until Ellen texted you after Christmas asking you about your plans for New Year’s Eve. The Hughes had always thrown a party for the New Year, packed to the brim with people.

When Ellen asked if you had plans, you had every intention on lying and saying yes. Saying that you had a date and that he was taking you to see the countdown and fireworks that followed, but something told you to tell the truth. So you did.

After you had admitted to her that you, in fact, would be all alone, she reached out and invitation to join them.

The invitation had toggled in your mind for a few days now. On one hand, you wanted to go see how everybody was, talk to his brothers, catch up with his friends. On the other, you wanted to stay home in your pajamas and watch Andy Cohen get shitfaced with Anderson Cooper while wondering if Luke would kiss somebody for the occasion.

The saying “curiosity killed the cat” proved to be true as you had finally decided to go, a sparkly gold dress accentuated your curves, hugging you in all of the right places, the places that Luke had once yearned for. You don’t know how, but your makeup was flawless, your eyeshadow bringing out your eyes in a way that you had never seen, but you loved it. Maybe this was revenge?

Even though you hadn’t made the drive in over 6 months, you still knew it like the back of your hand. Your nerves were working overtime, anxiety squeezing your thoughts the closer you got to the Hughes’ residence.

What if Luke had a new girlfriend? What if his parents were the only ones that wanted you there? Was this actually a good idea?

Too late now.

There was probably 25 or more cars that littered the driveway, most carrying a minimum of 2 people. It was a relief, maybe you could just blend in with the rest of them. A chameleon in the house of your ex lover.

Music blared, drifting from the backyard into the front, making the walk to the door less daunting of a task. There was no use in knocking, the sound of talking and music would most likely just drown it out, so you took a breath as you pushed the door open. It appeared to be the spot for the more mature crowd, Jim spotting you as soon as you walked in.

He was confused as to who you were at first, but as soon as you gave him a shy smile his face lit up with excitement. He had missed you more than he realized.

“Y/N! What a nice surprise! Come in, make yourself at home,” He squeezed you in a tight hug before relinquishing you.

“Y/N! Oh my, I wasn’t expecting you to come, but I’m so glad you did!” Ellen squealed, the clinking of her heels against the hardwood floors becoming faster as she did her best to jog to you, embracing you like her life depended on it. It lasted a few seconds before she held you out at arms length, examining you.

“Gosh, you look absolutely stunning! That dress was made for you!” She gushed.

“Thank you! I just decided to throw something together last minute. I should have let you know I was coming, but I honestly didn’t decide until right before I got dressed,” you chuckled, explaining the lack of communication on your part.

“Honey, you do not have to explain a single thing to me! I’m just so happy you’re here!” She hugged you again, rocking you side to side.

“The kids, sorry, young adults are out back. I do have to warn you…Luke did bring a date,” As she explained the dilemma, you expected yourself to break down. When it didn’t, relief washed over you. It had been almost 7 months, why wouldn’t Luke have moved on? You couldn’t be mad at him for that part, but you still held a grudge against him for allowing you to love him as much as you did and shattering your heart in the end.

There was never another conversation between the two of you. His parents never brought him up, he had never attempted to contact you, so the resolve was the fact that you returned everything. He had nothing left connecting him to you. That was how it was supposed to be, so there was no need to communicate with you. He had gotten the message loud and clear when he had returned home to a box of his things in his old bedroom and an ass-chewing from his parents and brothers. One that he would never wish on his worst enemy.

He learned from his mistake, but felt like the very toxic situation between the two of you was better left where it was: untouched.

He had been trying to move on ever since, sleeping with any girl that reminded him of you, sneaking them out before Jack had noticed, or simply just embracing the newness of being alone. It sucked at first, but he got used to it.

Ellen’s face flushed with concern at the momentary silence that followed her statement, scared that she would scare you off with the news of her son, your ex, having a date that wasn’t you.

“Ellen, it’s ok! I’m a big girl, I can handle it,” Making light of the situation was easier to fake on the outside, but trying to convince yourself was a bit harder.

You talked to Ellen and Jim for a few more minutes, catching them up on the latest details of your life, and then grabbed a Michelob to give you some liquid courage as you walked to the backyard.

There was people dancing, circles of people talking, various games being played, the scene never-ending as your eyes scanned over them. A few people locked eyes with you, recognizing you as the ex, but most everybody just continued to do whatever it was that they were doing. It wasn’t until Quinn’s eyes softened from his party vibes to concerned big brother that you felt nerves wrack your body. He immediately excused himself from the group he was talking to, making his way through the small sea of people to get to you.

For a split second you wanted to run away, but the rational side of you talked you down. It was just Quinn. Quinn had done nothing to you except loved you as if you were his own sister, so why would you run?

“Y/N! I wasn’t expecting you…how are you?” You immediately threw your arms around his torso, him returning the gesture, his hug similar to the way Ellen had hugged you.

“I’m good! I had no other plans and Ellen seemed like she really wanted me here…”

“Yeah, she hasn’t shut up about you,” He laughed, recalling how his mom mentions you anytime a girl was over, even one that Luke brought, and always comparing them to you when they left.

You were the standard that she held possible daughter-in-laws to, but they never lived up to you, she would admit.

“Gotta love her,” You chuckled, a slight awkward tension fell between you, a foreign, icky, awkwardness.

“That you do,” Quinn tried to repair the conversation, but some friends began to pull him away. He had mentioned to not leave before telling him bye, and then left with the group.

“Didn’t think you’d show up here,” The voice turned your blood to ice, freezing up what the beer had tried to let loose prior. No matter how many ways you envisioned this interaction to go down, nothing could have prepared you for hearing his voice after so long. It wasn’t like “nails on a chalkboard” irritating, but more along the lines when you pick a scab and it starts bleeding again.

That’s quite literally what it was. He was an old wound in your life that was becoming irritated because it was being messed with. No matter how much time had passed, it was still sensitive.

“Well, didn’t think I would be here either. It’s just as much a surprise to me as it is to you,” You turned around, met with the beautiful, curly-haired boy that was once your everything and a petit blonde that was his temporary. She was gorgeous, you’d give her that. But it wasn’t real beauty. It was bought. There’s nothing wrong with that, but her bleach blonde hair, fake tan, and push-up bra was irritating like nails on a chalkboard.

“Do you mind going to get us something to drink?” He turned to his date, giving him the empty bottle that his hand wrapped around.

“Is that a Michelob Ultra?” You almost snorted, her question a breath of fresh air in this unfortunate meeting.

“Not her and I, you and I,” Luke quickly cleared up.

She left with a smirk playing at her lips, kissing his cheek and heading inside.

“God, please let’s go somewhere else,” He grabbed your arm, tugging you to a secluded, area beside the shed out back. Your brain told you to rip your arm from his grip and scold him for thinking it was okay to ever touch you again, but your deemed in control and allow his touch to erupt butterflies in your tummy.

“I don’t know what I was thinking bringing her here,” he groaned, realizing he was still holding onto you, quickly letting go.

“She seems more Jack’s type, if you ask me,” You suggested, Luke squinting his eyes at your words.

“Good thing I didn’t ask…” He may have been the reason the relationship ended, but he wasn’t going to put up with any slander that you had for his current life. The life that didn’t include you.

“Whatever, why did you bring me here?” You looked around at the spot. It had definitely been a spot where the two of you had snuck off to make out several times, escaping the teasing of his older brothers.

“To talk…” He shift his weight to his heels, his hands finding warmth in the pockets on his pants.

“Oh! To talk about you being a complete dipshit and cheating on me this past summer? Yes, let’s talk about that!” Sarcasm dripped from your voice like venom from a snake, targeting the next victim: Luke.

“I’m sorry…” Again, the empty apologies were beginning to grind at you now. You didn’t want the apologies or the excuses. You wanted him to shut up for once, hear you out, and then come up with a genuine apology. He had said his piece, now it was time for you to say yours.

“No, Luke. You’re not sorry for cheating, you’re sorry you got caught. Save the apologies for when you actually mean them,” You started, him immediately shutting up and listening.

“We were so fucking toxic. You know it, I know it. The whole world probably knows it by now. But, God, I loved you so much. I would have spent my whole life trying to fight for that stupid relationship and you turned around and threw it all away. And for what? Some temporary pleasure? You couldn’t keep it in your pants long enough to get back to me?” Your words shot through him, like bullets hitting glass, shattering the surrounding areas. He couldn’t argue because everything that you were saying was true, but he’d be damned if he let you find satisfaction in being right.

“You said it yourself, it was toxic! You probably would’ve found a problem with me being there without you, anyway!” He tried to defend himself, but he was fanning a flame that he shouldn’t be messing with right now.

“Don’t you dare try to manipulate me into thinking your cheating was justified! Luke Hughes, I’ve said some fucked up shit throughout the years, but I never have, and never will ruin your trust. That’s the type of shit that lasts a lifetime. I can’t date anybody else because there’s always that ‘what if’ of them cheating!” Tears brimmed your eyes, softening the wall that surrounded Luke’s heart. He was a tough guy, but the sight of you hurting was a soft spot for him, an Achilles heel.

“You promised me a future, and then turned around and burned it to the ground without a second thought once you got a taste of fame,” Your finger poked at his chest hard enough for him to wince, expecting to see bruises the next morning.

“You’re a liar! A fucking liar and cheater!” Your voice broke as the words left your mouth, but Luke took the verbal beating that he deserved.

“Do you think I want to be labeled as a cheater, Y/N?! I’ve prayed for months that I’d just wake up and it not be real, that we’d still be together!”

“Awe, so sad, Luke. Truly heart wrenching!” You grabbed at your heart, feigning compassion as he began to clench his jaw, the muscle flexing as his annoyance rose. It was hot, but not hot enough for you to do anything about it.

“Stop being such a bitch, it may suit you, but it doesn’t mean you have to wear it.” His eyes grew dark, almost challenging you to see who would win in a game of insults.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot I was supposed to act however you deemed fit. Even if you’re a cheater…”

“I cheated, I’m not a cheater,” he tried to correct, a viscous chuckle tumbling from your mouth in response.

“I’m not! That’s the one and only time that it will ever happen, I can promise you that!” His voice rose in volume as he continued to defend himself.

“Oh, one and done Luke! How nice! My trust is fixed, so there’s nothing left to worry about!” The sound of people counting down in the background didn’t distract you.

10…9….8…

“If I’ve had anything in the past months it’s peace in knowing I don’t have to put up with your fucking nagging anymore!”

7…6…5…

“Yeah, and I don’t have to worry about you fucking some rando anymore!”

4…3…2…

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me.”

1…

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The voices erupted behind the shed, but the whirlwind of a kiss muffled it all.

Luke eagerly pulled your face toward him, his lips colliding as intensely as a train hitting a car on the tracks. An accident waiting to happen, but there nothing that could be done about it.

It took a second or two, but you kissed back with the same passion as him, him pushing you backwards until your back hit the wall of the shed.

His lips were like home, sweet and comforting. The remnants of his vodka redbull tempting your taste buds to plunge deeper, but you didn’t, you let him set the pace.

One of his hands tilted your chin up, steadying it as the other pulled you closer from the small of your back. Every sense inside of you erupted in fireworks as his tongue tried to gain entrance into your mouth, but you stood your ground, or tried to at least.

The hand that steadied your chin found itself wrapped around your neck, the shock causing you to gasp as he gained entrance.

“Luke! I finally found something to drink, but we missed our-” The voice immediately tore the two of you apart, the fireworks over the lake and store bought pretty interrupting the fireworks that were going off inside of you. Your breathing was a little shallow as you tried to control it again.

“-kiss. What the hell.” She glanced between the two of you before storming off, her stiletto sinking into the grass as she desperately tried to remove it from her foot.

Luke groaned, but the chirping had just begun for you, “One and done, huh?”

“Me and her aren’t even dating!” He squealed.

“We’re talking about this tomorrow, Y/N. Do you understand me?” He pointed at you as he began to smooth over yet another failed attempt at dating, but he wasn’t going to reconcile that one.

“Aye aye, Captain,” You gave him a silly salute, earning an eye roll from him, but as soon as he turned away from you the smile wouldn’t disappear.

Call you crazy, but you hadn’t felt butterflies for a long time, probably since his note to you. What you felt tonight was an army of butterflies being obliterated by fireworks. The feeling of his fingers around your neck, his jaw muscle contracting, everything about him had turned you on.

Did you really fold that easily?

Oh well. The thought of the next day, the possibility of getting him back, along with his family far outweighed your pride.

He could be your Luke once more.

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #jack hughes #nhl fanfiction #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #alex turcotte #cole caufield #jack hughes imagines #nico hischier #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x y/n #my brain is fried from writing this #but I couldn’t stop writing

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f0point5 · 2 months

Text

I had the time of my life, with you

Companion piece to the Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader social media au

✨Set in Abu Dhabi 2021, right before the race✨

A/N: So it turns out setting myself deadlines actually works lol. I still have a love/hate relationship with these pieces. But, I have a special place in my heart for this one because I had the title in my head since like the second week of the smau and I didn’t use it for any other chapter because of that. And also it’s an Easter egg because in the AD bonus part Y/N uses it as a caption for her Instagram post as an Easter egg for Max ;) we love a mastermind. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little ramble.

You thought you knew tension. You thought, growing up like you did, you were more than familiar. The eerie silence, the glazed expressions as your mind tries to protect you from close the chaos is, the pit in your stomach, that heaviness of breath, that feeling of cold that goes down to your bones no matter the weather.

Fucking hell, were you wrong.

You’ve never known tension like this.

The garage is thrumming with energy. Everyone is going about their business quicker, deeper, quieter, than it seems like they ever have. The grandstands are filling up, music blasting over the speakers. There’s a palpable electricity in the air. You’ve been shivering all day, unable to get warm enough even in a jacket in the desert heat.

You wrap your arms around yourself as you wind through along the narrow corridors behind the garage to the small room that Max has been hiding in. For the first time in a while, you knock instead of going straight it.

You’ve barely seen him all day, he’s been pulled this way and that for a hundred interviews and briefings, ducking the Netflix crews who’ve never been so sycophantic. They made him a villain, and now they lurk like there’s blood in the water in case he becomes the hero. Selfishly, you’ve missed him, and when you’d said as much to Christian, he’d just nodded to the back of the garage.

“He’s taking a couple of minutes to himself,” Christian had said, fixing his gaze on you. “But you should go and see him,”

So you had. And as you heard a gentle “Come in,” over the noise of drills and loud dance music and stepped inside, you realised why.

This was tension, you thought as your eyes fell on Max. He was on the small couch, hunched over, elbows resting on his thighs, hands clasped together almost as if he were praying. It’s like you can see every muscle in his body pulled taut under his fireproofs. He doesn’t even raise his head when you come in, but you suppose he glances at your shoes to know it’s you.

You close the door behind you, leaning against it. You’re not sure why, but it feels like you’ll bother him less from over here.

“Hey, champ,” you say, mustering a smile in case he looks at you. He doesn’t, at first. His eyes stay on the ground, and then, painfully slowly, his head lifts.

His eyes are still your favourite colour, his hair is still a bit too long, he’s still unshaven because he couldn’t be bothered even though he might be looking at pictures of this night for the rest of his life. He’s still Max.

“It’s a bit early for that,” he says, his half smile as delicate as yours. Yeah, still Max.

“Respectfully, I disagree,” you tell him crossing your arms over your chest as he looks up at you. “Since I can remember you’ve wanted to be a champion, and since I can remember, I knew you would be. That nickname is twenty years in the making,”

His eyes drop to his hands again and your heart drops with them. You’re trying so hard to say the right thing, but it was arrogant to think you ever had a chance. What experience in your frivolous existence would help you know what to say at a time like this. You wonder if you should just leave him to it as you fold your bottom lip between your teeth to chew at it as another shiver wracks your body.

“Twenty years,” Max says quietly, making you look over at him again. “It’s a long time,”

“Yeah, it is,” you reply, nodding even though he’s not looking at you. You edge closer to him, and when he doesn’t react, you take a seat beside him. Not as close as every cell in your body tells you you need to be, but as close as you feel like he’d want right now.

“You don’t understand,” he says with a sigh.

You don’t respond, because you know you don’t. You’ve never committed to anything, loved anything, lived for anything, like this. This dream of his has outlived marriages, outlasted memories, predated a friendship that feels like it has been going on forever. It’s the only thing Max has ever wanted. You’ll never be able to understand, because no matter how much you love him, he loved racing first.

“Tell me what to say, Max,” you almost beg as you reach towards him. You can’t even hold his hand, so you just place yours on his wrist, fingertips resting against his skin at the edge of his sleeve.

You glance over at him, naively hoping he will look over at you and tell you what he needs from you. Because you’d do anything.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he just says, “I’m sorry,” in a small voice the brings a lump to your throat.

You shake your head. “Don’t be. I know I don’t understand. No one can. Not me, not Christian, not Stan, not even your dad. You’ve outclassed your whole support system here,” you say this last part with a laugh, but it’s true. He’s alone now more than ever, he’ll stand on that top step alone, too. “We’re all so proud of you, you know,”

“I know,” he mutters, and it kind of breaks you how dismissive he is, even if you know why.

“Do you?” You ask him, leaning a little closer to him, but he doesn’t react.

He just continues staring at his hands as he untangles them, his left fingers curling backwards until they brush over your hand on his wrist, and you hastily slot your fingers into his as he lets out a heavy breath.

“Yeah.” He says, sounding more resolute this time.

“And you know that we’ll be proud of you, even if-“ you can’t even bring yourself to say it. “We’ll be proud of you regardless.”

“I know,” he says, “but it’s not enough,”

Despite yourself, you let out a frustrated sigh. “Max, I know that it’s not a trophy, but-“

“No,” he says, squeezing your hand to silence you. “It’s not that. I mean that it’s not enough, to come second.”

You grip his hand tighter as he lets out a laboured breath, his head lifting so he can stare straight ahead where the Dutch flag is pinned to the wall.

“We didn’t do all this to come second.” His voice is low and reverent. “My mum, Vic, I took so much from them. My dad gave up his whole life for this. You put your life on hold for this. It can’t all be for nothing,”

He’s never really said it, but you know what he means - this win is owed. He owes his mother a marriage, his sister a father, and his father a career. And none of that is in his gift, but if he can weigh a championship against all that sacrifice, then maybe he will be forgiven. Maybe for the first time in a long time, he’ll race with a clean slate. Without wondering whether he was worth the life he cost those around him, and the life he cost himself. And you want that for him. God, you want that more than anything.

You reach for him before you can stop yourself. Space be damned. You cup his cheek in your free hand and force him to look at you.

“Max, It won’t be for nothing.” You promise him, your nails pressing gently into his skin as if you’re trying to hold onto him. Like he might float away. “Not to me. Not to anyone who loves you. Even if you don’t win today, even if you never do, even if you shunt on the first lap. I had the time of my life with you this year. Being there for you will never have been for nothing,”

He wants to believe you, you can see it. But even if he believes that you all think that, he doesn’t think that. How do you tell him it’s worth it, when you both know there’s only one way for him to prove it?

“Do you want me to drive?”

Your question catches him off guard so much as that he snorts his laughter. You feel the air against your face as he falls back against the couch.

“I’m serious,” you say, grinning as you watch him. “I’ll put on the suit and the helmet and do the race for you, like Mulan. I did the track walk, I know where I’m going. Vaguely, anyway ,”

You’re making a meal of this mediocre joke, but you’ll do anything you can to keep him as carefree as he looks right now. With his head thrown back and the colour returning to his cheeks as his shoulders shake.

“Engel,” he says, his head lolling in your direction, “You really think you have a better chance of winning than me?”

You reach over to move a stray strand of hair away from his forehead, and his eyes follow your fingers.

“No, I don’t,” you say, letting your hand slide through his hair to rest on his jaw. “Because you, Max Emilian Verstappen, know how to win races better than anyone.”

Your thumb brushed across his stubbled cheek and he leans into it instinctively, just like the cats. The smile you give him feels more like one you remember, and the ones he returns reaches his bright eyes.

“Alright,” he says with a shrug.

He gets to his feet in one smooth movement, pulling you with him towards the door by your entwined hands that you’d quite forgotten about. He must have, too, because when he notices he squeezes your hand to get you to look up at him. When you do, your breath catches in your throat, and for the first time all day, you feel warm.

“I better go and win, then,” he says lightly, pulling the door open.

No one will you believe you, but you know then that you’ll be looking up at him on that podium tonight, when he’ll be a world champion.

“You will.”

Tag list

@somanyfandomsbruh @eugene-emt-roe @reidsworld @max3verstappen @laneyspaulding19 @elliegrey2803 @inthestars-underthesun @jayda12 @gaysontoast @baw-sixteen @wcnorris @motorsp0rt @obsessed-fan-alert @lifesuckslife @luciaexcorvus @dumb-fawkin-bitch @lickmeleclerc @goldeng1rl8 @trentwife @mynameisangeloflife @princessria127 @mcmuppet @hiraethrhapsody @toomuchdelusion @lxclerc @lpab @lordperceval-16 @larastark3107 @bangtanxberm @random-readers-world @bladestark @allenajade-ite @ironmaiden1313 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @charllleclerc @kachoooow95 @bellalilo @samywhale @satellitelh @leclercdream @jamie2305 @illicitverstappen @vellicora @honethatty12 @sociallyinepludi i @raizelchrysanderoctavius @bellewintersroe @taylorslovesswifties13 @tyna-19 @jquinnmunson

#f1 #formula 1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #max verstappen fanfiction #max verstappen x you #f1 imagine #f1 social media au

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saekkas · 1 year

Text

𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐒? 𝐆𝐎 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘!

summary: in which you get sick and it's their job to take care of you.

includes: isagi, rin, kunigami, sae, reo, karasu, aiku, kaiser, bachira, nagi.

note: hi hellow i'm finally back from my week of tests! cheers to posting regularly (fingers crossed) <3

❥ HELICOPTER BOYFRIEND ALERT! he refuses to leave your side for anything. is hell-bent on smothering you in blankets and medicine! will also cook delicious homemade meals to help you get better.

which is what you've walked into this not-so-fine morning.

there are bundles of blankets on your shoulders, all in different colors, courtesy of your very sweet and very protective boyfriend. you're waddling from the bedroom, shoulders slumped under their weight and feet clad in hello panda socks, trying to reach the kitchen before he scolds you for leaving the bed.

he did that the last time you went to get a glass of water from the kitchen too.

the living room is a homey space that's been filled with pillows and a freshly scented humidifier that's been on 24/7 since you've caught the flu. peeking in, you see no signs of your boyfriend. shrugging to yourself at the lack of presence in the room, you continue your trek into the kitchen, stopping short when a familiar voice catches your ear.

leaning against the door that connects the kitchen to the living room, you listen with furrowed eyebrows as your boyfriend calmly speaks on his phone.

his voice is nothing short of sweet and respectful. you watch as he hums to himself, seemingly writing something on a piece of paper, before nodding to whoever's on the other side of the phone.

"yeah, i've bought that already." he hums as he continues scribbling with his pencil, "i've bought that too. is there anything else?"

"mushroom, salt, pepper, corn, chicken meat, eggs. is there anything else?"

the exchange lasts a few minutes at most, but you can't fight off the smile growing on your lips at the sight.

"no, mum. she doesn't have a fever. she has a cough and her nose is red from sniffling and blowing into a tissue all day but she's fine," he hums to his mother on the phone.

your eyes widen in surprise as you've finally realized who he's calling. your heart beats faster in your chest and a small giggle makes its way from your lips as you continue to listen in on their conversation.

"she's eating well. she should be better if-"

his eyes snap towards you at the sound of your giggle before he sends you a look of exasperation which has you giggling even more. he motions for you to come to his side with his fingers and when you do, he presses a quick kiss to your forehead.

"-sorry, mum. i caught a peeping tom," he says into the phone before quirking an eyebrow at you, a frown on his lips. "as i was saying, she'd be better already if she'd actually stay in bed and sleep like i told her to."

he says the last part with a gentle poke to your side and he smiles at the laugh it brings.

"yeah, she's right here."

you watch as he wraps a hand around your waist, pulling you into his arms. he looks at the guilty smile you send him, and chuckles with a shake of his head.

"mum wants to talk to you," he says after listening to his mother talk. he leans in to press another kiss onto your forehead before pressing speaker. "you can talk now, mum."

the smile on your face only grows when his mother wishes you a quick recovery, and to listen to her son's words. you say goodbye to her when he ends the call.

"your mum's so sweet," you say as he pockets his phone. giving him a smile, you lean forward to wrap your hands behind his neck. "what did you call her for?"

he focuses his attention back to you, placing the sheet of paper on the counter. "i needed a family recipe," he says as a hand stays around your waist, the other checking your temperature. "mum has a special soup for coughs and the flu."

"i can't believe you called your mum for me," you say with a teasing smile as you lay your head on his chest. "that's so sweet of you."

"now that you know," he quirks an eyebrow at you, looking at the multiple blankets around your shoulders. "what are you doing here? i told you to stay in bed. to sleep."

"i'm sorry," you say with a guilty smile, pressing a kiss on his cheek to smooth the frown on his lips. "i got thirsty."

it's silent for a few seconds before it's broken by the sound of your squeal moments later. he places one hand behind your feet and the other on your back, intent on carrying you back to the bedroom.

"hey!" you protest as you squirm in his arms. "i didn't even get to drink yet!"

he looks down at you with a frown, proving a point by handing you a two-litter water bottle for you to hold.

you watch with a pout as he makes his way back to the bedroom, softly placing you in the middle of the bed before standing back up with an expectant look on his face.

"anything else?" he asks with a quirked eyebrow and amusement clear on his features. "or will you finally go to sleep?"

"can i help you cook?" you ask with a hopeful grin.

he sends you a look, shaking his head with a chuckle before leaning down to rewrap the blankets around your body. "sleep," he mumbles as he presses a kiss to your forehead. "i'll be back with the soup, then we can do something fun."

he leans against the door, awaiting your answer with an expectant look on his face that you can't say no to.

"good girl," he nods in content at your answer, happy that you're finally listening to him. he sends you a sweet smile, his eyes softening as you continue to stare at him. "sweet dreams, precious."

it's hours later when you wake, head on his lap with his hand in your hair. and it's only then that he hand-feeds you his mother's special soup along with sweet kisses to make sure you have a speedy recovery.

isagi, rin, kunigami, seo, SAE (believe when i tell you that i would sacrifice anything for this to happen to me. because i would).

❥ TEASES YOU FOR CATCHING GERMS when in reality, he's dying on the inside from worrying over your state. is the type to not really know what to do, constantly in a state of panic. will call all over to ask for advice which results in him getting 91829272 brands of chicken soup and medicine from the convenient store.

the day has been nothing but brutal on you. a killer headache, scratchy throat, and a fever? this nightmare seems to be never-ending. to top it all off, your boyfriend's been teasing you all day long for catching a virus. you've had enough of him as you both stand under the same umbrella, waiting for the bus to arrive as it's raining cats and dogs.

"seriously," he says with cocky tone and a nudge to your shoulder. "if you don't start taking care of yourself, you'll be walking like a grandma by the time you're 25."

"gee, thanks." you roll your eyes at his teasing remarks, sniffling as the cold sends a shiver down your spine. "you sure know how to treat a sick person," your tone is dripping with sarcasm.

"no problem, babe," he chuckles as the bus comes to a stop in front of you. his grip on your wrist is warm and comforting, and he only moves to take your hand in his. "c'mon. this is our bus."

you let him lead you inside, swaying on your feet as your skull throbs from the headache. sniffling, you come to a stop behind him, staring at the elderly couple as they get off from their seats. you sit beside him, leaning your head on his shoulder as the bus starts to move.

"you can go home first," he says in a low tone, being considerate of your state. "i've got something i need to do first then i'll drop by."

your eyebrows furrow in confusion at his words. as far as you know, there isn't practice after school, and he's been intent on coming over to your apartment to study.

"okay," you shake away any other thoughts and nod limply against his shoulder. "i'll wait for you to come back before studying."

"how considerate of you," he chuckles as he pats your head, smoothing his thumb across your forehead to help soothe your discomfort.

the ride home isn't long. the bus is quiet; not many passengers are on, and their chatter is muted. you start to make your way into dreamland, his shoulder the perfect pillow and his warmth the coziest blanket.

"hey," he whispers as he nudges you awake. "you're almost at your stop. you need to get up, baby."

"right," you grumble as your eyes start to open, shaking off the sleepiness as a yawn tumbles out of your lips. "c'mon, we should wait by the door."

he sends you an apologetic look, shaking his head. "i'm not getting out just yet, babe. my stop's the next one." he still has your hand in his, thumb still rubbing gentle circles on the skin. "i'll wait with you by the door though."

still in the haze of sleep, you nod as you rub a hand across your eye. you wait until he stands before following him, your hands still intertwined. he leaves a kiss on the crown of your head, along with his umbrella, waving as you get off.

trudging against the rain, umbrella in hand, you walk the short path back to your apartment. pressing the code and sniffling as you do, you whisper a small i'm home into the empty space.

you've only finished preparing two cups of hot chocolate and a plethora of snacks when the doorbell rings, his image flashing on the monitor. opening the door, you're about to sniffle a small hey but all that comes out is a gasp.

"why the hell are you wet?!" you gasp at your boyfriend's appearance, sopping wet from top to bottom with his hair plastered onto his forehead.

"i gave you the umbrella, remember?" he chuckles with a teasing wink. "don't tell me your memory is starting to become like a grandma's too. besides, it isn't so bad."

frowning at his words, you're quick to run into the bathroom, taking along 2 towels with you. "i didn't think it was the only umbrella we had. you should've brought it with you." pausing for a second, you tilt your head with a question, "where did you go anyway?"

"and let you walk home in the rain?" he scoffs, ducking behind the door to pick up three paper bags. "not a chance, babe."

you eye the bags, recognizing the symbol from your local supermarket's. moving to the side, you try to take one of them but he's quick to dodge your advances.

"i- uh- i went to the supermarket." he nods down towards the bags, taking the towels from you to dry his hair. "went to buy you some medicine and soup. to kill the germs and all that."

he stops his movements at one point as he runs a hand on the back of his neck. "didn't know which one to get. everyone i called recommended different things so i bought all of 'em."

raising your eyebrows at the sweetness of his gesture, you chuckle before pushing him into the bathroom. "go shower. i made some hot chocolate before you got here, so we can have that after."

"with marshmallows and chocolate syrup?" he asks with wide eyes, smirking when you nod your head yes. "that's my girl."

you both didn't do any studying that night. intent on feeding each other soup and taking turns sipping the hot chocolate, you end up in his arms. "don't every get sick ever again, you hear me?" he threatens with a sleepy yawn as he presses you deeper into his chest, nuzzling into your hair. "i was about to die, thinking you were dying."

you roll your eyes at his dramatics.

karasu, aiku.

❥ A KISS A DAY KEEPS THE DOCTOR AWAY is what he says when you tell him that you're sick. is the type of boyfriend to become whinier and touchier, laying in bed all day asking you to cuddle him as if he's the who one who's sick and not the other way around.

"c'mon," he whines, tugging at your sweater as you head towards the soccer field. today's practice is a simple one; a match against the rival team to gauge each players' readiness for the real match. you're only here because he insisted you come watch. "we do this before every match. you can't deny me, my good luck charm."

"no." you groan for the umpteenth time that day, insistent on refusing him because of your cold. "i told you. i can't kiss you today. besides, your talent and hard work are enough to get you through this play. even without my kisses."

"i won't get sick," he scoffs with a roll of his eyes, ignoring your last statement. "one kiss won't get me sick."

"well, i don't care if it's one kiss or a hundred. i'm not kissing you because you have a big game next week, and i will not jeopardize your play by accidentally passing on the flu to you."

"fine," he huffs with an annoyed pout on his lips. one you are dying to kiss off, after you get better. "i'm blaming you if we lose this play."

you sigh as he grumpily stalks off to the field, leaving you to sit on the bleachers all on your lonesome.

"see, i told you. you don't need my kisses to win." after three rounds and a win, you finally get to say it to his face. with a smug smile on your face, you watch as your boyfriend packs his things, ready to go home after a day on the field.

"whatever," he grumbles, still pouty, and visibly upset. he swings his bag onto his shoulder, extending his hand for you to take. "please tell me that i still get my victory cuddles, at least."

taking his hand, you walk side by side.

he glances at you from the corner of his eyes before directly looking at you, placing his chin on your shoulder. "i still get them," he says with his cutest puppy eyes and pout, "right?"

biting your lip, you will yourself not to fall into his trap. "i'm sorry," you say as you shake your head. "no cuddles until i'm better too."

"evil." he shakes his head, lifting his chin off your shoulder to look at the street ahead. "you're plain evil. you know i can't survive without your kisses and cuddles."

"it's just for a few days." you sigh as you squeeze his hand, stopping to wait for the red light. "then you can have as many as you want. promise."

"you saw how draining practice was," he huffs, eyes stubbornly set on the ongoing traffic, showing his dislike at your current predicament. "i need to recharge with your cuddles."

he tugs your hand when the traffic light turns red, pushing you into the inner part of the sidewalk. "i want them now," he says with another pout before stopping altogether, pointing at your shoes. "your laces are untied."

"huh?" you look down but before you know it, your view's been blocked by the top of his head as he squats to re tie the laces.

"you're so clumsy," he admonishes with a grumble. "what if i'm not here, and you trip?" he then grins to himself as an idea comes to mind.

"that has never happened before and you know it."

tying your laces, he sighs dramatically before standing up, right in front of your face. he's quick in his movements, taking your chin in hand, he presses a peck on your lips.

his face is filled by beaming happiness. his eyes are squinted, his lips spread wide in a grin, and it takes everything in you to not pull him into another kiss because right now? you should be mad.

"you know what? whatever." you groan, lifting your hand in exasperation as you walk in the direction of your houses, intent on letting him walk alone. "you can only blame yourself if you get sick."

he's next to you in a second, his expression still joyful, as he practically walks with a skip in his step. he presses kisses onto every layer of your exposed skin, starting from your forehead and ending with the knuckles on your hand. you bite your lip at how adorable he is, content with his affection.

"just you wait and see," he says in a sing-song voice as he moves in to press another kiss on your lips. "i'll prove you wrong."

"whatever you say then," you mumble as you eye the convenient store right at the corner of the street. "can we stop by first? i need to buy-"

"there's no need." he interrupts your words, fishing his hand into his bag before pulling out a set of painkillers and medicine. "i've got them right here."

you say nothing as you tackle him into a hug, pressing kisses onto his face with a lovestruck smile on yours.

"heh," he says, face flushing at your sudden display of affection. "i should surprise you more often."

as a reward for buying you medicine, and for not kissing him before his match, you let him cuddle and kiss you for the rest of the day with no complaints.

the next day, you laugh in his face when he calls to tell you that he has a cold, snickering an i told you so when you go to take care of your big whiny baby.

KAISER, bachira, nagi (with less dramatics and energy).

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tigertales9 · 6 months

Text

Hard Reset III

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+ / Smut

Description: This fic covers the week 4 loss to the Titans.

Time/Place: Sunday, Oct. 1, 2023 / Cincinnati, Ohio

A/N: This is the third fic in the Hard Reset series. It's also a shameless sex-fest. I promise there will be more actual plot (and sex!) in the next fic.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sunday, 10/1/23 (after the week 4 loss to the Titans)

You check your watch as you pace around the kitchen, your mind grasping at what to say to Joe when he gets home. You roll your shoulders to relieve some tension as you think back to the game.

~ ~ ~

The 27-3 loss to the Titans felt like a huge step back after the Monday Night Football win against the Rams. The entire game was a disappointment to put it mildly. Every single phase -- offense, defense, special teams, play calling -- was lackluster as hell. The only positive was Joe's calf injury didn't seem to get re-tweaked, but you never know how it will react from one day to the next. Joe had once again requested you and his parents not greet him if the Bengals lost, so y'all were already in the car heading for the exit when the clock ticked down to 0:00. You beat the team charter flight back by a couple hours, and Joe's parents decided to head home since they knew he wouldn't want company.

~ ~ ~

The sound of the garage door opening pulls you back to the present, your pulse picking up when Joe walks in and locks eyes with you. "Hey," you greet, quickly walking forward to give him a hug. "Hey," he mutters, dropping his bag before wrapping his arms around you. "Sorry you traveled all that way just to see a shitshow," he continues, giving you a look that's half grin/half grimace when you pull back and look up at his face.

"It wasn't a shit …"

"Yes it was," he interrupts, heaving a tired sigh. "Don't sugar-coat it."

"Yes, sir," you mumble. "How do you feel?"

He runs a hand through his hair before answering. "Physically, not too bad. Mentally, like total shit."

You swallow hard and give a quick nod, a little disconcerted that he seems to be looking right through you; before you can think of something to say he speaks up again.

"Listen, Sam's gonna pick me up in a few minutes. We're having a team meeting at his house tonight."

"The whole team?" you ask.

"No, just the Captains and a few other guys." He picks his bag up and heads for the stairs before continuing. "We've gotta figure some shit out, make sure we're on the same page then put it to bed." He pauses halfway up the stairs and finally makes good eye contact with you. "The entire season is on the line; somebody has to light a fire under our asses and …"

"You're just the man to do it," you interject, giving him what you hope looks like an encouraging smile.

"Exactly," he states, before disappearing upstairs.

He reappears a few minutes later wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, quickly checking his phone when it chimes with a new text. "Sam's here," he says, dropping a kiss on your forehead before heading for the door. "I may be late getting home. Don't wait up."

Your eyebrows head for your hairline as he breezes out the door. "Love you, too," you grumble under your breath after the door closes behind him. You try not to take his abrupt departure personally, but you're feeling a little sorry for yourself when the door slings open and he walks back in. "Did you forget something?" you ask.

"Yeah," he answers, striding up to you. He leans down and gives you a lingering kiss before pulling back. "Love you," he states. "Love you, too," you answer, giving him a big grin as he hurries back out the door. "Telepathic ass," you chuckle once he's gone. "I swear that man can read my mind."

~ ~ ~

A couple hours later you wake up abruptly and sit straight up in bed, your heart pounding for several seconds until you realize the noise that woke you is just Joe in the bathroom brushing his teeth. He eventually walks into the bedroom giving you a sheepish grin when he sees you. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up," he mutters, crawling into bed and basically faceplanting into his pillow.

"It's okay," you soothe, turning onto your side to face him; you run your fingernails up and down his bare back, smiling at his muffled groans. "That feels good," he mumbles into his pillow, a shiver running down his spine when you slide your hand into his hair to lightly scratch his scalp.

"Did y'all figure some things out?" you ask, admiring his tall frame which is clad only in a pair of black boxer briefs.

"Mmm-hmm. Mainly that I sucked today and we won't win shit until I get better."

"The whole team sucked today, not just you."

"Thanks for admitting I sucked."

You roll your eyes and give his ample ass a loud smack before rubbing it.

"Don't get me started," he warns.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I know where this is headed, but I don't feel like having sex tonight."

You withdraw your hand and scoot away from him. "Sorry," you whisper. "I just thought … nevermind."

"Listen," he sighs, flopping over onto his back to stare at the ceiling. "I don't want pity sex, and there's no way you're turned on after how awful I played today."

You narrow your eyes at the slight slur in his speech. "Have you been drinking?"

"A little."

"Then I won't tear your ass up about projecting until you sober up."

"What do you mean projecting?"

"You know exactly what I mean." You take a deep breath before continuing. "We've had this conversation before."

"Refresh my memory."

"Should probably wait until tomorrow. I'm in no mood to sugar-coat it tonight."

"Fuck sugar-coating," he snorts, "tell me what you're thinking."

"Fine." You push up into a sitting position and look down at him, the hallway light providing just enough illumination to make out his petulant expression. "When you lose a game you get really down on yourself, and you project that feeling onto me. But -- like I've said several times before -- the way I feel about you is not determined by whether or not you win fucking football games, okay? If you lose every single game for the rest of your NFL career, I'll still want you more than anything. Why is that so hard to understand?"

"I just …"

"I'm not finished," you interrupt. "I'm starting to think you're the one who doesn't want sex after the team loses, which is fine, but you need to quit blaming it on me." You slide out of bed as you finish your mini tirade. "I'm not sleepy anymore," you state as you head for the door. "I'm gonna go get some work done."

You walk down the hallway to your office, shutting the door behind you before dropping into your desk chair with an annoyed sigh; you click your desk lamp on and run a hand through your hair. "Way to overreact, dumbass," you grumble under your breath, immediately feeling guilty. "You know he always needs extra affirmation after a loss and instead you chewed him out. Better go apologize."

You stand up and head for the door, stopping in your tracks when you hear a soft knock. "Come in," you call, biting your lip as he walks into the room. "I'm sorry," you blurt before he can say anything, quickly closing the distance to wrap your arms around him. "I overreacted."

He returns your hug for several heartbeats before leaning back to lock eyes with you. "You don't need to apologize. I need to stop being an insecure brat every time I lose a damn game."

"You don't really think I lose attraction to you after a loss, right? I used to think you were just teasing, but I seriously can't tell anymore."

He shrugs his broad shoulders, the action causing his forehead curls to bounce. "I'm mostly teasing, but I've been feeling pretty bad about myself lately so I guess I've been fishing for compliments more than usual." He gives you a sheepish smile. "And I was def hoping to have sex tonight. I guess I laid the pity party on a little too thick, though."

"So -- to be clear -- when you said you didn't feel like having pity sex …"

"I really meant I wanted you to seduce me. To show me you still want me even though I played like shit."

"Okay, that's good to know. I mean, that's what I normally do when you get in this mood, but it's starting to feel like I might be boundary stomping."

"You're not boundary stomping." He slides his hands down your back and cups your ass before easily lifting you up, smiling when you wrap your legs around his waist. "If I really didn't want sex I'd let you know, but don't count on that happening anytime soon," he states, punctuating his words with a throaty chuckle that sets off a steady throb of arousal in all the right places.

He walks to your desk chair and drops into it with you straddling his lap, his lips immediately on your neck after he pulls your t-shirt off and drops it on the floor. You lean your head to the side to give him better access, moaning at the feel of his mouth on your neck and his hands on your breasts, his agile fingers teasing you with barely-there touches before pinching and tugging your sensitive nipples just hard enough to make you gasp his name. "You like that?" he whispers against your ear, his hot breath causing a gush of wetness in your core. "Yeah," you whimper, grinding your crotch against his obvious erection as he continues to tease you.

He eventually drops a hand down and rubs your clit through your panties before slipping his fingers inside to play with your wet folds, his deep voice in your ear sending shock waves of pleasure down your spine as he slides a long finger inside you, adding a second finger when you beg for more. "So wet for me," he growls, making a feral noise deep in his throat when you start riding his fingers, slow at first then faster, your breathless whimpers leveling up to louder moans when he latches his pretty lips onto a nipple, his cheeks hollowing out as he sucks on the hardened peak.

"Don't stop!" you urge, biting your lip when he pulls off one nipple and moves to the other, giving it a gentle nip with his teeth before sucking it into his hot mouth. "I'm so close," you whine as he grinds his thumb against your clit while pumping his fingers inside you, a steady stream of whimpers spilling from your lips as your climax hits. You bury your face in his fragrant neck and gasp for breath, feeling lightheaded by the intensity of the orgasm, existing in a state of total bliss for several minutes until your dainty desk chair gives an ominous-sounding creak.

"Uh-oh," you pant, leaning back to lock eyes with him. "I think both of us in this chair is too much."

The chair makes another, even louder creak and Joe raises his eyebrows. "Why do you have such a flimsy-ass desk chair?"

"Because it's cute and comfy. Plus it's perfectly fine when it's just me sitting in it."

"You calling me fat?" he asks playfully, sticking his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout.

"No, you goober," you giggle, easing yourself off of his lap to settle on your knees on the floor between his manspread thighs. "You're tall and muscular and big," you state. "Deliciously big," you continue, ghosting your fingers over his impressive erection while licking your lips. "Let's lose these," you whisper, pulling his undies off and tossing them to the side.

You take your time enjoying the view before dropping open-mouthed kisses up the long length of his thick thighs, his soft, blonde leg hair tickling your lips as you work your way up to his crotch; he sucks your essence off of his fingers as he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes, the look on his face making you want to do deliciously naughty things to him.

"You're gorgeous," you whisper, sliding your hands over his abs, smiling when his muscles tighten under your touch. The heat radiating off of his big, hard body makes you more than a little lightheaded, and his scent -- a purely masculine musk -- literally makes your mouth water. You decide to let him know. "You make my mouth water," you groan, continuing to drop kisses near, but not quite on, his hard cock.

"No I don't," he scoffs, color rushing into his cheeks at the compliment.

It always amazes you when he gets shy about his good looks; in his mind he's still a nerdy guy, and he's not quite comfortable with the fact that he grew up to be a total sex god. You give him a sultry grin as you double down.

"You 100 percent make my mouth water. Want me to show you?"

He studies your face for a bit before responding. "Yeah … show me."

"Okay." You take your time gathering the excess saliva on your tongue before opening your mouth, letting the spit drizzle down on his shaft while holding eye contact with him. "So fucking hot," he hisses, his cock twitching as you lean down and flatten your tongue against it, licking base to tip before lapping at the precum on the plump, velvety head. The sensual, uniquely masculine taste has another flood of saliva pouring into your mouth; you lean back and lock eyes with him as you gather the moisture again, this time spitting it in your hand before wrapping your fist around his thick shaft, jacking him with smooth, steady strokes for a minute before dropping your head back down to tease him with your lips and tongue, slowly replacing your hand with your mouth as you take him deep, your gag reflex firing a few times before you hit just the right angle to deep throat him.

He buries his hands in your hair as you pleasure him, the words of praise spilling from his lips interspersed with soft grunts and groans that go straight to your core. Tears roll down your cheeks, and he brushes them away then lifts his fingers to his mouth, licking the salty liquid before hissing in pleasure as you lightly scratch your fingernails over his balls.

"Shit, babe, hold up a sec," he grits out. "I don't wanna cum yet." You pull off of his erection with an audible pop, wiping a hand over the spit and precum coating your chin while panting to catch your breath. "Just let me know what you need," you offer, your pulse picking up at the feral look on his face. He loudly sucks his plump bottom lip into his mouth, the action and noise so suggestive that you feel your core throbbing in unison with your racing heartbeat.

"I need to taste you," he purrs, his voice husky with desire. "Then I need to fuck you."

The throbbing in your core escalates, and you cup a hand over your soaked panties to try and ease the almost-painful ache; his gaze flicks down to your crotch before returning to your face, the carnal promise in his smile making your pleasure points hum with anticipation.

"How sturdy is your desk?" he asks, eyeing it as if sizing it up for a naughty, vigorous romp.

"Not sturdy," you mutter, gasping in surprise when he quickly stands up and reaches down, wrapping his hands around your waist and picking you up before striding for the door; you wrap your legs around him and bury your face in his neck as he walks to the bedroom.

He sits you on the edge of the bed and slides your panties off in one smooth motion, dropping to his knees on the floor between your spread thighs; you lean back on your elbows and watch as he lowers his head and flutters his tongue over your clit before plunging his tongue inside you, the noise you make causing him to lock eyes with you as he repeats the action. "I'm gonna cum in ten seconds if you keep that up," you whimper, biting your lip when he lifts your legs over his broad shoulders. "Then let's slow it down," he purrs against your most sensitive flesh, the vibrations from his deep voice causing a shiver of pleasure to shoot through you. "I'm gonna take my time," he continues, dropping delicate kisses and licks on your aching folds while avoiding your clit.

After what seems like an eternity on the edge, you decide to take matters into your own hands; you slide a hand in his messy curls and give a tug, using the leverage to grind your pussy against his face in a way you know he loves. "You drive me fucking crazy," he growls once you let him come up for air, his eyes dark with lust when he raises his head to look at you. "I'm seriously about to cum," he grits out, his breath catching in his throat when you quickly lift your legs off of his shoulders and slide off the bed, straddling him and reaching a hand down to line his cock up with your slick entrance before taking him balls deep.

He makes a noise that's half groan/half growl and 100% primal when your core clenches his thick length; you dig your fingers into his muscular shoulders and start riding him hard, whimpering on every down stroke at the feel of him bottoming out. He leans you back until your back is pressed against the edge of the bed, the new angle causing him to hit your sweet spot on every stroke. "Just like that!" you pant, moaning when he drops a hand down to tease your clit. "Fuck, baby," he hisses as his climax hits, the hot spurts coating your core as he pinches your clit with just the right amount of pressure to pull your trigger.

The sound of your mutual heavy breathing is the only noise you hear for several minutes; when you finally open your eyes and look at him, you have to smile at how totally fucked out he looks. "I think I passed out for a sec," you pant. "Me too," he chuckles.

~ ~ ~

Thirty minutes later -- after a shared shower where both of you laughingly complained about your shaky legs -- y'all are lying in bed, trading yawns and agreeing to sleep late the next morning.

You're just on the edge of sleep when he speaks up. "Babe? You still awake?"

"Yeah."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

The silence stretches out for a minute before he speaks up again. "It's kind of stupid, I guess. Maybe I'll keep it to myself."

"What is it?" you ask, sitting up so you can look down at him.

He scrunches his perfect nose up. "We have two games left before the bye week."

"Yeah, Cardinals and Seahawks."

"If I play really awful like I did today, and we lose both of those games, will you still secretly marry me during the bye?"

You give a snort of laughter before you realize he's not laughing with you. "Are you serious?"

"A little, yeah."

You take a deep breath before responding. "Remember that convo we had earlier tonight when I said if you lose every single game for the rest of your NFL career, I'll still want you more than anything?"

"Yes, ma'am," he mumbles.

"Well, let me drive that point home a little harder." You brush his curls off of his forehead and give him a smile before continuing. "If you play like total dogshit in both games, throw twenty picks, lose fifty to nothing, and cut a huge fart in the post-game pressers, I'll still want you more than anything. I can't wait to secretly -- and eventually not-so-secretly -- marry you. Does that answer your question?"

"Yeah," he laughs along with you for a minute before quieting down. "Sorry I'm being such a needy baby lately."

"You're being human instead of a robot," you soothe, leaning down to press a kiss on his lips. "It's a nice change," you say cheekily, giggling when he flips you over and lands a loud smack on your ass. "Don't get me started," you echo his words from earlier.

He rolls you back over and pushes up on an elbow, looking down at you in the dim lighting. "Meaning?"

"Meaning I know where this is headed," you purr, licking your lips just before his mouth captures yours.

#joe burrow #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine

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k-n0-x · 1 month

Text

Drunken confessions- Lucifer x reader- 100 Followers special! ✨

A/N- Hey everyone! This small one shot is a Luci x reader fic to mark my 100 followers special (It increased to 120 as I was writing this lmfaoaoao💀💀) per the poll I hosted not too long ago. We can't get enough of our favourite boy, can we

Tysm guys <3

Nsfw ahead!

🦢·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·🦢

You swirl the remaining amount of red drink in your cup, facing the only man that you love with all your heart.

“So, Apple Pie, this ain't so bad, right?”

Lucifer and yourself have been together for years.

Today marks the fifth year of such.

You guys have been through thick and thin together, and over the course of those years, his love for you only grew, especially when you saw Charlie as your own and she loved you as a mother in turn.

So much so that she decided to organise a ‘Super romantic, candle lit, heartfelt dinner’ (Her words, not mine) at her hotel.

Nonetheless, she really pulled off all the stops; that quirk just sort of comes with her personality.

Just like her father.

“Your daughter has really outdone herself this time Luci,” you place the glass cup on the table.

“Yeah, sshe's like that,” The demon king chuckles, drinking another glass of wine.

“Careful, you know how tipsy you can get darling,”

Your lover snickers.

“Asss if! Your’rre talking to the King of Hell here,” The rosy-cheeked demon takes your hand.

He hiccups.

“Oh yeah? Well, my king seems to be tripping over his words. Come on love, let's go upstairs,” You grab Lucifer by the arm, but he pulls you back into a hug.

“I love you sooooo much, my Songbird,” Lucifer plants his lips on yours, which you accept.

Kissing him is like eating : you need it to live, and it's exhilarating when you appreciate it, no matter how often you partake in it.

His hands trace up and down your back, reaching for the zipper at the back of your dress.

“Hey now? Cheeky are we?” You tease.

“Come on, my darling King, let's go somewhere more… private,” Seems like the alcohol caught up to you too.

Nonetheless, Lucifer displays a toothy grin and bridal carries you to one of the guest bedrooms upstairs.

The room was decorated with an array of shades of red. The bed was king size with plush pillows and a crimson sheet.

But more about that later.

Lucifer hungrily pounces on you, pinning you on the bed, painting bites and hickeys all over your neck, eliciting moans from you.

You tussle his platinum blond hair and your legs find themselves wrapped around your husband’s waist, as you both continue to make out passionately, rocking back and forth as one.

Things were getting steamy, and lo and behold, a familiar friend appears from Lucifer’s groin.

He pulls you closer, and you grind against him.

“Ugh, Sweetheart,” Lucifer groans from the pressure.

Lucifer’s hands frantically try to take off your dress by all means, pathetically wanting you, needing you.

You tsk.

“Needy, aren't we?” Your fingers drum gently on his flushed face, eyes lidded.

You sit on top of him, pretending to think, continuing to grind on him.

“Now, now, good things don't come fast…. but~,” You pause.

“Good boys deserve a reward, am I right?” You coo, the King of Hell whimpering at the words in agreement.

Even though you've done this countless times, it’s still amusing how you can bring the King of Hell down to a blubbering mess.

The alcohol sure does help though.

“Songbird- please- I can't take this anymore,”

“Ssh, It’s okay honey, just relax, you're a bit drunk right now. Let me take care of you,” you say as you pull down your partner’s trousers, letting his erect cock loose.

Lucifer zips down your dress simultaneously and it falls off of the bed. His lust-filled eyes look at your beautiful figure, truly enamoured by it.

Slowly, you let yourself sit on his throbbing dick, holding Lucifer’s face in your hands, whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

You could practically feel him itching to thrust himself in you, but refraining from doing so.

“My love please,” Lucifer whines as his hips buckle under your body, begging for any stimulation.

Finally (To Lucifer anyway) you start to shift and move around on his member.

When you started, both of you couldn't stop. Despite his position, he manages to pump in and out of you.

“Hng- Ahh, Yes! Right there, ng-” your wet folds expand to his cock, and your arms claw at his back, you moan at each and every thrust that reaches within you.

“Don't stop- Oh God I'm about to-” before you could even sputter the words out, your orgasm makes you shiver and draw heavy breaths along with Lucifer’s cum filling up your hole, thin ropes of it glazing down his manhood.

You feel the demon’s wings wrapping around you in an embrace, closing you both from the world; it's only you and him.

“Angel?” Lucifer mumbles into your shoulder.

“Hm?”

“I love you so much. Thank you for being mine,”

“And the same from me Luci,” You gently peck his beautiful face.

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

“Sooo, how was the dinner?” Charlie practically jumping up and down of her seat during breakfast the next morning.

Lucifer wanted to sleep in a bit, so you let him be upstairs.

“Perfect, Charlie,” You respond, sipping a cup of tea.

“Thank you,”

“Yo Charlie,” Angel pipes up.

“Seems like you may have a younger sibling sometime soon- ow!” you kick the porn star under the table.

Charlie flushes at Angel’s remark.

You groan at Angel’s smug grin.

Well, at least Charlie knows that you and her dad love each other.

Right?

🦢·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·🦢

Word count- 913 words~

#fanfiction #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #fluff #Switch lucifer

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valley-of-headcanons · 9 months

Note

Heyy! So I just found your stuff and it’s all super cute I love this kind of thing 😊 feel free to decline but do you think you could do a little fluffy one shot type thing where you’re just gaming with Sebastian and then whoops you both fall in love 😳

best gamer of all time || sebastian x reader oneshot

hanging out with your friends is always fun, but gaming alone with him may be your new favorite thing <3

warnings: fluff fluff fluff fluff oh my god, you may suck at this game but you do NOT suck at winning his heart

requested by: @juleboo , this is such an adorable request! i'm sorry this took like forty billion years, life has decided to kick me off my feet, but im doing a lot better so yippeeeee. i hope you enjoy, hopefully it was worth the long wait 🙏

Hanging out on a Saturday night was a ritual for you, Sebastian, Abigail, and Sam. You all rotate on who's place you hang out at, and tonight was Sebastian's. Abigail was laid out on the couch, Sebastian sitting on his bed, and you and Sam were on the floor. After a very intense game of Jackbox, with a lot of chaotic answers and laughter, it was nearing midnight.

“I cannot believe you put that! That was a direct jab at me and you know it!” Sam said towards Abigail's direction, obviously not actually upset.

“Then clean up the fuckin' pizza boxes in your room! That rat would've become your best friend if your mom didn't find him- wait- what time is it? ... oh shit, my dad is gonna kick my ass!” Abigail said, jumping up at lightning speed and grabbing her bag. “Sorry to kill the party, love you guys, if I get lectured one more time this week I am going to pull out my hair. Bye bye!”

And off she goes, leaving just as chaotic as she came. Sounds about right. The remaining three of you laughed, before Sam stood up and grabbed his things as well. “For some reason Mom wants me to come to church in the morning, she saw some lyrics to one of our songs and she kind of flipped her shit. Soooo, gotta atone for my sins. Have fun you two,” he said, sending a small wink Sebastian's way before making his way up the stairs.

You saw the wink, it definitely caught you off guard. You immediately snapped your head towards Sebastian. “What was that for?” you said with a smirk, which wasn't held for long. It slipped into a smile, moving from the floor to the now empty couch.

Sebastian's expression remained neutral, rolling his eyes. “Sam is always up to something, ignore him. Do you wanna stay and hang for a little while? I don't have anything to do tomorrow,” he said, looking towards the cabinet of games that sat beside his gaming console. He never asked anyone to stay later, especially when it's his night to host. He usually wants everyone out, Sebastian cherishes his alone time.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach when he asked you this, he actually wanted to spend more time with you? You felt so honored and special, of course you were going to stay. “Yeah, what did you wanna do?”

“I bought a game, it's co-op. Wanna try it out? It's a platformer, it seems pretty easy,” he said, walking over to the cabinet and grabbing the case. He made his way back over to you, showing you the back of the case, carefully studying your features. He wanted to make sure you were actually interested, and when your face lit up, he couldn't hold back a smile. It was rare for him, but it was perfect.

“Hell yeah, let's pop this bad boy in!” you said, sitting up excitedly and scooting over so that you two could share the couch. After 'popping that bad boy in', he sat next to you and handed you the controller.

Sebastian put on the tutorial before beginning to show you the controls. He described what to do, but due to your drowsiness from working all day, you just couldn't grasp what the controls were. “Here,” he mumbled, thinking for a moment before carefully putting his hands over yours.

“Alright, shoot with this button, alright?” he said, making sure not to get too close to you. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable, but these little touches were really nice ... he could get used to this.

“Mhm ...” you hummed, although your brain was short-circuiting. Every single thought in your brain was rendered useless in that moment, every place where you two touched felt like it was on fire. You clumsily tried to recreate his movements, shooting when he asked and jumping when he instructed. You learned the controls, but barely.

“Got it?” he said simply, slowly beginning to let go of you. He didn't really want to, but he didn't want to overstep your boundaries. He really cared about you, he didn't want to jeopardize that.

With a hesitant nod of confirmation, you two began the game. It was a mess, you definitely did not grasp the controls whatsoever. However, he enjoyed seeing what kind of trouble you got yourself into. How could you even get up there?

“Okay- when you jump, press the trigger to latch on to that cliff, and do NOT let go-” he tried to explain as you jumped with all of your might ... just to not even touch the cliff. Your body hit the floor with a splat, and you both sat in silence for a few seconds, staring at each other. Small snickers turned into full blown laughter, falling down onto the couch as you both held your faces.

“How the hell am I so stupid?? That was so easy! How the hell did I miss that??” you cackled, wiping the tears that began to fall from your eyes.

“I have no idea but it was one of the best things I've ever seen,” Sebastian's laughter began to quiet as he sat up, his gaze making its way down to you. You looked so perfect in the soft light of the television, so happy from the laughter that was encasing the both of you. He could not stop smiling.

“What?” you said softly, a gigantic grin on your face. You couldn't move, you just wanted to stay in this moment forever.

“... nothing. Just ... capturing this moment,” Sebastian said in a gentle tone, taking a deep breath before looking back at the screen. “You're a ghost now, but you can still help me and eventually I can revive you.”

You slowly sat up, but you had an idea. You slid a little closer to him than you were before, your legs touching. “Alright, I'll be the best fuckin' ghost in town,” you laughed, knowing you were bound to fuck it up but you had no care in the world. This was too fun.

He looked over at your legs touching, smiling even wider before continuing the game. He would ask you to do things as a ghost as you did ... with enough trial and error. He did notice that you kept adjusting and scooting closer and closer. He really liked this.

“Do you know how to freeze someone?" he asked, which you shook your head to. “Let me see this-” he mumbled, wrapping his arm around you, definitely just wanting to help you see the controls. You were essentially sitting in his lap at this point, a soft pink blush creeping onto both of your faces.

His face was so close, pressed almost right up against yours ... you wanted to stay here forever, but you didn't want to say anything that would ruin the moment. Nervous silence held you two for a moment, before he did something that both of you wanted more than anything. He carefully kissed your cheek, before going back to the game as if nothing ever happened.

Your brain melted, a feeling of bliss overtaking your body. You've been waiting for that for ages. You slowly leaned back into his chest as he laid down his controller for a moment. He wrapped his arms around your waist for a moment, giving you a careful squeeze. You reached your arms up around his neck, hugging him back. Neither of you cared about the game anymore.

“Stay here tonight. If you want to,” Sebastian muttered softly, holding your body close to his. He didn't dare let go, and neither did you.

You stayed there that night, you stayed wrapped up in his arms until the daylight and you had to work on your farm. But you hoped one day, you could wake up next to him everyday. Maybe someday, but for now, you had many Saturday nights where you stayed over later than everybody else.

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv headcanons #stardew valley headcanons #sdv farmer #stardew valley farmer #sdv sebastian #stardew valley sebastian #sdv sebastian x farmer #stardew valley sebastian x farmer #sdv sebastian x reader #stardew valley sebastian x reader #stardew sebastian #stardew sebastian x reader #stardew sebastian x farmer #sdv oneshots

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