#I feel cooler just thinking you think I’m cool

[cjsoleil]

You Make This Christmas Red and White (Seungmin X reader)

Summary: This is Seungmin’s first Christmas with his girlfriend, as well as her first Christmas in Korea. Seungmin intends to make her feel at home.

A/N: Reader is French because why not. Happy holidays to you all!

Winter in Seoul is pretty unpredictable, sometimes it’s absolutely freezing and other times, it’s simply slightly cooler than a November afternoon. It hasn’t snowed much during this December though. This, Seungmin believes, is causing his girlfriend to go through a little bit of seasonal depression. Y/N loves the winter and everything that comes with it. Snow, the cold, hot drinks, playing outside, and of course, Christmas. Being from Canada, winter at Y/N’s home is different than in Seoul, so Seungmin is sure the homesickness is getting to her. It’s the first time she has ever spent Christmas in Korea, as well as spending their first Christmas together. So Seungmin fully intends on making this perfect.

So he starts by making sugar cookies. He even bought those Christmas cookie cutters, so he has reindeer and snowflake shaped cookies. He tops them off with red and white sprinkles before putting them in the oven. Y/N isn’t at his apartment yet, so he’s hoping to surprise her when she gets back from her stroll. She’s been staying with him during the break since the universities are closed. As he waits for the cookies to bake, his phone rings, but it’s just Felix. Seungmin quickly clicks accept and speaks before Felix can.

“Can’t talk right now Felix.”

“What? Okay, why not?”

“I’m baking cookies.” Felix scoffs on the other line.

“I’m not there Seungmin, we have to be together to ruin our baked goods.”

“Can’t risk it. I’ll call you back.” Seungmin hangs up the phone as the door to his apartment opens. He looks over and is greeted with the sight of his girl, wearing a light coat.

“Hey.” Y/N says as she takes off her shoes and coat. She sniffs, before smiling, “Ah, what are you making?”

“Close your eyes.” Seungmin demands when she gets into the kitchen. Once she does so, he grabs a reindeer shaped cookie from the cooling rack, and brings it to her parted mouth. Y/N takes a bite and instantly tastes sugar. Opening her eyes, she swallows before smiling.

“You made me cookies.”

“I did.”

“And they’re good, so Felix hasn’t dropped by.” Y/N snickers and takes the rest of the cookie from Seungmin’s hand, “So what brings this at-“ she looks at the clock on the microwave, “Nine in the morning. Not that I don’t appreciate it.” The boy hums and leans against the counter.

“I don’t think you appreciate my efforts, you haven’t thanked me.” Rolling her eyes, Y/N steps close to him and kisses him gently.

“Thank you my oh so kind Seungmin, Mon Cheri.” He wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

“I have a plan for us today.”

“Oh?” Y/N rests her arms on his shoulders, “What is it?” Seungmin grins and pushes her away.

“A surprise.” He tells her, and uses a dish towel to take the last tray of cookies out of the oven, “We’ll head out soon. How was your walk?”

“Good, it’s pretty nice out. Kinda cloudy. I was going to get a hot chocolate but the cafe was closed.”

“Hm, I’ll get you one later.”

“Aw, you're such a sweetheart.” Y/N pats Seungmin’s face and squishes his cheeks. His lips purse and he pushes her away, “You know what I want though? Candy cane hot chocolate. That and peppermint mocha are two of the best things about the season.”

“Are those not the same thing?”

“How many times have we had this conversation?”

“I’m still confused about the difference between candy cane and peppermint hot chocolate.”

“Candy cane is better.” Y/N grabs another cookie, “You sure you can’t tell me where we’re going?”

“No.”

—————

Soon enough, Seungmin and Y/N are in Seungmin’s car heading north. One of Seungmin’s hands rests on her thigh and the other is on the steering wheel. The heating is on high and Seungmin is wearing a sweater that Y/N bought him. It’s forest green with a picture of Pochaco in the corner. Both of their jackets are on the backseats.

“How long is this going to take?”

“A bit more than an hour.”

“So far!” Y/N laughs and holds onto Seungmin’s hand, “Where are you taking me away to?”

“Not telling. Be patient, love.” He lifts their joint hands and kisses the back of Y/N’s.

“Fine. So, is there anything you want for Christmas? Not saying I haven’t got you anything, but is there anything specific?”

“No.” Y/N frowns. Seungmin hasn’t given her one idea of what to get him. It’s not like shopping for him is that hard, but she would still appreciate any help.

“Are you sure?” Seungmin glances at the girl before smiling.

“Yes. All I want for Christmas is you~” he sings along to the song on the radio. Y/N gives him a fake little smile that he can’t even see.

“Cute. Did you get your parents a present?”

“Yes.”

“And Chan? Minho? Jeongin?”

“Yes, you don’t have to manage me. I know how Christmas works.” They sit in silence for a few moments.

“…Did you get your sister a gift?”

“Fuck.” He stops at a red light and looks at Y/N giving her a sweet look, “jagiya-“

“Not happening.”

“It’s not necessary nor expected for you to get my family any presents.” Seungmin complains.

“Your family is letting me barge in during the holidays, of course I’m bringing them presents.”

“Stop saying that as if you aren’t welcomed. You know we’re all happy to have you.” Y/N squeezes his hand.

“How sweet. Answer is still no.” Seungmin groans, “We’ll order something later.”

“Fine.” A vibration comes from the cup holder between them and Y/N grabs Seungmin’s phone.

“It’s Chan.”

“Ignore it.” Y/N looks at the boy confused.

“Why? Are you mad at him?”

“No, but I don’t want to talk to him right now. I’ll text him when we get drinks.”

“I can let him know.”

“Yeah. Text him on your phone though.” Y/N puts his phone back in the cup holder and grabs her own.

“Are you hiding something from me?”

“Yes.” Y/N blinks a few times at Seungmin before shrugging.

“Okay then.”

The nice thing about car rides with Seungmin, is that they don’t feel that long. The longest drive they’ve ever been on together was three hours, and it felt like nothing. Even when they simply listen to music, without exchanging a single word, the time spent together is enjoyable. Y/N insists that it’s something about Seungmin, though he says she’s just easy to please.

“Look at that Min, it’s snowing! It hasn’t snowed this much back in Seoul.”

“No.” Seungmin says, “It always snows more once you get further North.”

“You know when I was younger, my siblings and I would fill buckets of snow and dump it on whoever slept in that day.” Y/N sighs, “Good times.”

“You must have been an insufferable kid.”

“Seungmin!”

“I’m joking!” He laughs and Y/N shakes her head at how cruel her boyfriend is.

“You’re so mean.”

“I’m funny.”

“With you there’s no difference.” Y/N rolls her eyes before continuing, “We always got harsh snowfall in Quebec, hence the festival. That’s in February though. My family would always drive down to go visit it, it probably boost my tolerance of the cold.”

“I thought you were from Quebec?”

“The province, Mon amour. But I’m not from the city of Quebec.”

“Is it much colder there?”

“I must say yes.”

“Sounds like hell.”

“Only if it froze over.”

Seungmin soon parked at a free parking space he found, which Y/N praised him for.

“Okay so we’re here… but what is here? I’m still confused.”

“You usually are.” Y/N reaches over and pinches Seungmin’s ear.

“Ow! Sorry, sorry, sorry jagi.” Y/N let’s go and Seungmin rubs his ear, “I’ll show you what’s here.” He tells her, and reaches to the back seat and grabs his coat, putting it on. Y/N does the same. Seungmin’s coat is slightly heavier than Y/N’s. They step out of the warm car and Seungmin shivers a bit while Y/N appears unfazed at the cold wind hitting her face. Seungmin clicks the invisible button on the trunk to open it, revealing its contents.

“A sled?” A classic, wooden sled like one you would see in a old movie. Seungmin nods and gives her an excited smile. Clapping her hands together, Y/N laughs and looks at Seungmin.

“Aww, Minnie! Did you take me all the way out here to go sledding?” The boy shrugs and wraps his arms around Y/N’s waist when she pulls him in for a hug.

“It’s nothing.” He mumbles into her ear, kissing the skin. Pulling away, Y/N pats his face which has turned red because of the cold.

“One sec.” She walks over to the car and opens the back door, grabbing two pairs of gloves, her’s are fingerless though, and two hats. One is light blue with a gray pompon and the other is light pink with a white pompon. Closing the door, she puts hers on and makes her way to Seungmin. She grabs both of his cold hands and puts his gloves on, before putting the pink hat on his head. Well, actually it’s a -

“Touque Seungmin.” Y/N playfully corrects him, before tilting her head and humming softly, “Aw, mon beau homme. J’adore.” Seungmin blinks owlishly, before softly smiling.

“You look good too.” He grabs the sled and shuts the trunk, holding her hand with his free one, “Let’s go.”

The walk to a lovely hill wasn’t even far, since Seungmin has planned out the exact location and where he wanted to park yesterday. Y/N praised him for his intelligence but he only shrugged her off. So now, at the very top of the hill with a few other people around, most of them being kids, Seungmin drops the sled on the ground.

“Okay so since we’re ridding together, I’ll get on and you can go behind me.”

“Who said I’m riding behind you?” Seungmin replies, a teasing look in his eyes. Y/N is quick to retaliate.

“Me. Because I want you to.”

“Oh? But I don’t want you to become spoiled.” With complete exaggeration, Y/N looks at him with gasp.

“Me? Spoiled? My Seungmin, how could you claim such a thing? You’re so mean to me, how could I possibly be spoiled?” She pokes his chest with an accusatory tone, “I’m the one that spoils you! With my endless love and affection.”

Seungmin rolls his eyes and grabs Y/N’s hand, holding it between his own.

“Fine, you sit in front.” He leans down and pecks her cheek, whispering close to her ear, “Brat.” With a smile, the girl drags the sled closer to the edge of the hill, sitting down and patting the space behind her. Seungmin, though pretending to be a little mad, sits down. He wraps his arms around her waist. Nudging them forward with her feet, Y/N pushes them to slide down the hill, laughing as she does. Seungmin’s laughing from behind her, his arms tightening.

When they get to the bottom, the two are still crackling, and Y/N claps her hands, the sound muffled by her gloves.

“Again!” And the two spend who knows how much time climbing back up the hill just to slide back down. Then on there way back up again, Y/N notices something. She smirks to herself and once at the top, sets the sled up. She gets on it, Seungmin sits behind her, and right before she’s about to push off she hears Seungmin speak.

“Wait is that- Y/N!” She pushes them down and they move high speed, and close to the bottom they slide up a little pile of ice and fall to the ground. On impact, they tumble off the sled and onto the snow. Or into the snow.

“Why would you do that?” Seungmin tilts his head to Y/N, who’s grinning like a maniac.

“Because I can.”

“I hate that answer.” Y/N ignores him and starts to make a snow Angel, intentionally kicking Seungmin’s leg when she can.

“Wanna go for a walk?”

“Sure.” Y/N stands up and helps Seungmin up with both hands.

They put the sled back in the car before they started their walk. It’s lightly snowing, and the wind isn’t very harsh.

“Come here.” Seungmin grabs Y/N’s hand and they step into a small store. They say hi to the woman at the cash register. When Seungmin finds what he was looking for, he holds them up to Y/N.

“Pick.”

“What… even are those?” In his hands are plastic scoops? But the ends are hollow outlines of different animals. One is a duck, the other is a snail.

“Just pick.” Y/N picks the duck. Seungmin pays for it at the counter and they go back outside. He goes to the pile of snow beside the sidewalk and uses the scoop to collect a pile of snow, forcing it shut before holding it up to Y/N’s open hand. He opens it, and a duck shaped snow pile drops in her hand.

“Oh my god.” Staring at the duck in amazement, her voice gets a little higher in excitement, “Aw! This is so cute! Let me try.” Seungmin gives her the tool and Y/N starts to make ducks of her own.

“This is great.”

“You leave a trail of ducks in your path.” Seungmin laughs while he watches his girl out the snow ducks on the ground, or any ledge or staircase railing they walk past.

“I know. I’m compelled to fill your apartment with them.”

“I’ll kick you out.” Y/N rolls her eyes and lightly passes her duck from hand to hand.

“You talk a big game, cheri.” Seungmin rolls his eyes and Y/N purposely starts to slow her pace so Seungmin is a little ahead of her and when she gets the opportunity, pulls his coat and shirt collar back and shoves the duck down his shirt. Seungmin yelps at the sudden cold, shaking a little to get the snow off of his skin. This makes chunks of snow fall to the ground.

“You fucking brat!” He yells, but Y/N only laughs, which soon dissolves into a gasp when Seungmin tackles her into the snow. Nobody else if around, which makes Seungmin much more dangerous without the risk of public humiliation.

“What are you-“ she shouts when Seungmin pulls back the collar of her jacket just to drop a pile of soft snow on her neck and collar bones. In retaliation for the fight that she started, Y/N throws a handful of snow into his face, taking advantage of his dazed state to flip him over.

“Okay stop!” Seungmin covers his face with his gloved hands and Y/N grins, sinking her hands in the snow beside his head, ignoring the cold surrounding her fingers.

“My my, is Kim Seungmin asking for my mercy?” Seungmin glares at her, but when she presses her cold fingers into his neck, he squirms and says,

“Okay okay, mercy.”

Smiling with her achievement, Y/N gives Seungmin a kiss on his nose before getting up, helping Seungmin up as well. He shivers as they continue to walk.

“Aw, I’m sorry Mon amour.” Y/N says in a voice that doesn’t sound sorry whatsoever. However she actually does feel a little bit bad. Seungmin’s face is all red now. Thought she quickly gets karma for that, when she slips on ice she didn’t see.

She lays there in shock, staring up at the sun when Seungmin’s head comes into view.

“Are you concussed? Say no so I can laugh at you.”

“You literally laughed when I fell down the stairs yesterday.” Seungmin lets out a giggle at the memory before grabbing Y/N’s arms, pulling her up.

“Yeah, cause it was funny.”

“You’re such a cruel man.”

“Sure, I am.” He rolls his eyes. Seungmin grabs her hand and links there fingers together, just so he can helpfully prevent another fall. On their walk, Y/N gave a little girl the snow duck maker thing since she noticed that it caught her eye. This was to Seungmin’s relief, he did not need his apartment filled with snow ducks. They visited a couple stores on their walk, and ended up buying a beautiful pottery tea set for Seungmin’s sister, which Y/N of course picked out. By that time, the two of them were starving and got hotteok from a little store.

“You know, in the motherland” Seungmin snorts, as Y/N continues, “There’s this candy they make in the snow.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to eat snow.”

“Well, yeah.”

“So if you're making candy in the snow, isn’t it basically the same thing?”

“No. And it’s not like eating snow will kill you.”

“Eat it then.” Y/N stares him straight in the eyes before crouching down and collecting a handful of soft, untouched snow. She brings the snow to her mouth and Seungmin quickly slaps it out of her hand.

“Min!”

“Are you three? Are you actually going to eat snow?”

“Well, no, I am not three. And why wouldn’t I eat the snow.”

“That’s gross.”

“It’s untouched, freshly fallen. No big deal.”

“Would you drink from a puddle if I asked?” Y/N smiles and leans into Seungmin, making him wrap his arms around her waist.

“To prove a point? Of course.” She gives him a quick kiss before laughing a bit.

“You’re so annoying.” Seungmin comments, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they continue to walk, “Let’s get back to the car. It will get dark soon.”

It’s dark by the time they get home, but it’s not even that late. It just gets dark early during the winter.

“Hey.” Seungmin turns his head to look at Y/N when he parks the car, “I need you to stay back for like- 5 minutes.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see.” Seungmin leaves the car without another word and leaves the keys with Y/N, who, while confused, does listen and stays in the car for five minutes before leaving the car. She makes sure to lock it before going up to his apartment. She unlocks the door to notice the main lights turned off, but red and white lights illuminate the ceiling.

“What is…” Y/N turns on the lights and gets a good look at the room. On the kitchen cupboards there’s deer and penguin decorations, and she sees on the coffee table there’s a bunch of different snow globes of different colours, sizes and designs.

“Hey.” Bells ring and Y/N turns to face the sound, nearly dropping the box holding the tea set.

“Seungmin.” Y/N breathes out, at smile on her face. There is a Christmas tree, small but beautifully decorated. But it’s not the tree that brings her joy, though that’s a part, it’s what is under the tree. Perfectly wrapped presents which were definitely not done by Seungmin considering his… questionable wrapping skills. What is really the best thing though, is Seungmin, sitting cross legged in front of the tree with plaid pajamas and a giant bow on his head.

“Do you like- ow!” Seungmin is knocked to the ground, laying flat on his back with Y/N straddling his waist.

“Aw Seungmin!” Y/N coos and cups Seungmin’s face, squishing his cheeks, “What is this?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? The apartment is so pretty, who did this?”

“I got Chan, Felix and Hyunjin to decorate while we were out.” Seungmin explains with a smile, happy to see his surprise had the desired effect.

“I thought that you would like it, since you said that your parents always decorated like crazy back home and we’re not going to my parents house for some time.”

“Oh!” Y/N dramatically clenches her chest, “Mon coeur! Tu es trop mignon Seungmin, je suis malade!” Y/N rambles on in french and Seungmin only makes sense of a few words. When he decides that she’s been speaking too much, he grabs her by the chin and brings his lips to her, kissing her roughly. Y/N immediately closes her eyes and leans into it, letting Seungmin sit up with her in his lap. After a couple minutes, he pulls away completely. His face is burning red, and Y/N finds it so endearing that even after all this time she can still give that effect.

“Look at this.” Y/N smiles gently and tugs at the bow in Seungmin’s hair, “Mon amour, are you my present?”

“Yes.” Seungmin nods, a serious look on his face, “I have no other gifts for you. I spent all my money on snow globes and reindeer figurines. So you will have to settle with only me.”

“The best gift of all.” Y/N states it as if it’s a fact, leaning closer to him and whispering against his lips, “Do I get to open it now?” She closes the distance, licking Seungmin’s upper lip and kissing him gently. It soon turns rough, Seungmin kissing her frantically and grabbing at her hips and thighs. Y/N grasps at the hem of Seungmin’s top, inching the fabric upwards.

Seungmin suddenly pulls back and pushes Y/N off him, standing up and walking away as if nothing happened. Y/N sits on the floor, shocked.

“What are you-“

“You can’t unwrap me just yet jagiya.” Seungmin smirks, sitting on the couch, “It’s not Christmas.” Y/N groans and lays on her floor in defeat.

“And you say I’m the brat.”

“You’re my brat.”

[ssreeder]

Seeing you interact with Hella1975 or seeing her interact with you is very silly to me because in my head you both are like really popular humble niche internet celebrities for the same reason but also completely separated from each other so the idea of y’all knowing about each others existence is like the most insane crossover ever.

@hella1975 is an internet celebrity

I’m some random person with an iPad.

We are not the same… but i am honored to know her!! She is awesome & one of the nicest people I’ve interacted with so it’s really cool to have any kind of insane crossover with her!

*waves*

HI HELLA

YOU’RE AMAZING & I SWEAR IM GOING TO READ TAMS SOON AND ITS GOING TO CHANGE MY LIFE AHHHHH IM SCARED AND EXCITED!!!!! I’ll yell at you kindly the moment I do

[urmomsfavelesbian]

babe are you okay you’ve been watching werq the world youtube videos for an hour

[redhotarsenic]

The reason why I designed Valantinez with those blood tendrils/ribbons in the first place is because I love vash the stampede billowing coattails images so much that I wanted to make up a guy who I can draw so I can do that stuff All The Time

[avvidstarion]

Honestly tma should’ve ended after season four like I feel like SEEING the fear apocalypse made it super underwhelming

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

Ways I can think of that “DanDaDan” differs from other shonen series:

* Female MC is as important as male MC

* Canon romance gets consistent development through the series. I think that’s part of the reason why the MC ships with the rivals (Aira, Jiji) aren’t as popular with the fandom for once. The main ship is actually getting good development, so the fanbase doesn’t have to make up headcanons to fill in the space.

* Flips the found family trope on its head by having the main group despise new people whenever they show up and they even actively try to kick them out. The new people only end up staying because they keep lingering around to the point that the main group just gives up and lets them stay.

* The rivals aren’t emo or angst-ridden. Aira is a delusional tryhard popular girl while Jiji is a himbo drama queen. I’d even go as far to say that the MCs are the ones who are emo and angst-ridden.

* Supporting cast is more than just important, they become integral to the story. I’d say that the further you read into DanDaDan, the more it becomes an ensemble cast where everyone is a protagonist in their own right.

* World-building is all over the place, but in a good way. Most other shonen are pretty consistent with what kind of world their characters live in. MHA is superhero-based, Naruto is ninjas and magic, Bleach is spirits, and so on. DanDaDan feels like the author just throws whatever cool shit they can think of into the story. That’s actually the reason why I wrote in a different post that DanDaDan reminds me more of Marvel/DC than any other shonen series, it manages to capture the catch-all insanity of those comics.

* Doesn’t rely on hidden power-ups. The main characters either have to outsmart the villains or they have to train to get better with the powers they already have.

* The pervert comic relief guy is actually endearing for once. Not because of his pervert tendencies, but because he’s so oblivious to how socially inept he is that it’s kind of funny. This is gonna sound strange, but he sorta reminds me of Thor in Thor Ragnarok. Full of himself and oblivious to how dumb he can be. He’s Thor without the good looks lol.

* Flips the “nerdy outcast loser somehow gets a harem” trope. Instead of making Okarun cooler than how he actually is, the story emphasizes that the women who fall for Okarun are as weird as him. Momo is a weird outcast, Aira has main character syndrome, Vamola doesn’t understand how to human because she’s literally not one, Rin thought Okarun was a vampire (and wanted him to be).

* Flips the “elderly figure in charge of the teenagers” trope. I don’t really get motherly figure vibes from Seiko Ayase, I get more “cool wine aunt who is stuck with her niece” vibes. In fact, there was the arc where Okarun showed up to her in spirit mode to get her help with fighting off the alien invasion and Seiko’s response was, “Well, I’m not in the area and I have other shit to do, so you kids figure it out.”

* The series takes the piss out of the trope of mystical/magical items that the group acquired to get their powers. I mean…the main mystical MacGuffin in the series are Okarun’s balls.

* Okarun was about to go into an “I’m weak / I wish I was stronger / I want to get stronger for my friends” breakdown, but Turbo Granny told him to shut up and keep fighting.

* Not afraid to put the “cool girl” in as many funny situations as possible. Off the top of my head, the series built up Momo as this cool, tough girl who doesn’t take shit from anyone…then several chapters later, Okarun found out she got a job at a maid cafe.

(Feel free to add to the list!)

[feyburner]

I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app

*

Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.

“No?” he says.

“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”

“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”

He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.

And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.

“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”

“Lightyears beyond, actually.”

“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”

He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.

“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”

“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.

“Exactly.”

“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”

Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”

Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”

“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”

“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”

There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.

“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”

“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”

[torturedtypewritersdept]

the fire in his eyes - r.c.

↳PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader

↳SUMMARY:jj maybank had done a lot of stupid shit in his life but threatening to kill you was at the top of the list.

↳ WARNINGS: mature themes, mentions of anxiety, gunshots, gun use, major character death (implied - doesn't happen), gun violence, violence, protective!rafe, etc.

↳A/N: this is a repost from my old blogs @illicitfixations, @lovelornanonymity. all of my works are being reposted to this one + the previous blog has been deactivated.

At the Boneyard, Kooks didn't have rich parents watching over their every move, and pogues got to party without the police shutting them down. They didn't have parents to bribe the law enforcement like the rich kids did, after all. It was a win-win situation. You and Sarah kept it a tight-lipped secret, but parties at the Boneyard had always been their favorites. As you climbed out of Sarah's black Volvo, you two shared a conspiratorial look, matching grins on your faces. Rafe put his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him and leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. You heard a whistle from the crowd, and resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You could feel the eyes of other partygoers on them as you all walked in, clinging to your every move. Topper grabbed a cooler of beers he’d brought with you guys, and cheers echoed from your onlookers.

"Rafe, mind if I borrow your girl?" Sarah's voice was syrupy-sweet, and Rafe shot her a glare, but relinquished his hold on you. 

Without giving you a moment's notice, Sarah grabbed your hand eagerly, snatching you away.

When you next glanced at your boyfriend, he'd busied himself with Topper and the beers. Predictable.

"Look at this, Y/N.” Sarah said, out of breath as you two stopped running. 

Above you towered a red buoy, the kind designed to ward off the big trawlers and cargo ships when they came a little too close to shore.

“You can see it all from up here.”

You heard footsteps, and glanced over her shoulder, seeing Topper advancing towards you two.

"Your bitch is here.” You teased, and Sarah glanced over her shoulder.

"Shut up."

"Sarah! Be careful!" Topper hurried over, worry plain in his voice, and you rolled your eyes.

"I'Il leave you to it.” You called out, and Sarah smiled down at you, waving her goodbye.

You crossed your arms around yourself, looking at the scene around you. There were people

everywhere, Pogues and Kooks in distinct groups,

miniature versions of the Cut and Figure Eight.

"Looking hot as always, princess.” A voice whistles from the side. 

You turn your head, seeing JJ trailing his eyes up and down your figure. You roll your eyes, flipping him off with a fake sweet smile, then walking away.

You made your way to your friends - Rafe’s arms calling your name. You belonged in them like the wind in a hurricane, one just simply couldn’t be without the other. 

The journey across the beach and into the arms of the boy you loved was long and grueling, your feet felt like lead as they drug against the cool of the sand. The promise of Rafe’s touch was enough to make you keep going as your eyes raked over his form at a distance. 

He was laughing with his friends, a yellow shirt gripping his biceps and pink board shorts wrapped around his thighs. His feet were exposed against the sand and a baseball cap sat backwards in his head. You came up from behind him, wrapping your small arms around his middle, trailing your fingers up around his pectoral muscles. 

“Can I buy you a drink, handsome?” You whispered into his shoulder, not tall enough to reach his ear. You felt his muscles relax against your touch. 

“I’m pretty sure the booze is free, we’re at a kegger. Plus, I don’t think my girl would like that very much.” He replied with a smile, turning around to bring you into his chest. “Hey, pretty girl. Missed you.”

Suddenly, Rafe's grip on your waist tightens a bit and a scoff slips from his mouth. It's not long before you notice what forced the change in his

demeanor. Two Pogues, JJ and you couldn't quite remember the other boy’s name, but you recognized him as a friend of Kiara’s. 

"Just walk, don't look at them.” You hear the unknown boy whisper to JJ and it almost brings a smile to your face.

"How do you walk past Kooks and not look at them in all their fucking glory?” The sarcasm seeped from JJ’s lips, purposely making his voice loud enough for you all to hear.

"Hey, princess. When you get bored of this polo wearing asshole..." his words directed toward you as his holds his hand up to his ear with the phone gesture, "call me," he mouths. 

His friend immediately pulled JJ further in the opposite direction before Rafe could so much as

even think to put his hands on him.

"Don't.” You place your hand on Rafe's chest, as he noticeably gets angry. He just glances down at you in confusion. "His time will come.” You reassure your boyfriend, your smile almost as menacing as the one now on Rafe's face. 

He simply nodded along to your words, letting his grip on your waist finally lighten up a bit.

You and Sarah were growing bored as your boys were talking about perfecting their swings for what felt like hours upon hours and you two were looking for any excuse to retreat back to the keg. 

“Sarah and I are going to get another drink. You guys want anything?" You ask, backing away toward the keg already. 

“Nah, I’m good.” Kelce replies, Topper and Rafe agreeing all too intrigued with their conversation about that God forsaken sport. 

You just shake your head and the two of you start walking towards the keg. Your walk was pretty peaceful, but of course that couldn't last for long. You watched as JJ walked in your direction.

"Y/N L/N." Your full name rolled off his tongue,

albeit a little slurred.

"Hi?" Your voice was questioning, and you could only hope you got across your utter confusion as to what he was doing standing in front of you. 

He raised his eyebrows at you, and held out his cup to you silently. Your eyes darted downwards and back up to him again, looking at the murky liquid dubiously. As far as you were concerned, he could've been poisoning you.

"No, thanks."

"Don't you trust me?"

You let the words hang. You knew he knew the answer to that question. JJ waved the cup in front of your face once again, jolting you back to the present.

"Lighten up, princess.” 

You chuckled lowly, though the laugh had no real humour behind it. “Fuck off, Pogue.” 

You met his eyes again, and the corner of his lip quirked up ever so slightly. He looked almost a little stunned. 

"Where'd you learn to swear, princess? The country club?"

"Where'd you learn to swear? Jail?" You bit back, and JJ grinned.

"Juvie, dumbass.” He replied, eyebrows raised. "C'mon. One sip."

“I believe the lady said no, Maybank.” You heard your boyfriend’s merciless voice cut off the intense tension that you and JJ were now sharing. 

"Rafe! Buddy! How are you?"

The taste of beer in the back of your throat turned rancid. This was not going to end well. The muscles in Rafe’s jaw were tensed, sharp lines against the contours of his skin.

"What, is it not fancy enough for you?" JJ kept being persistent. 

"No. We were just leaving."

"Hey, you know what? I'll take it." Topper interrupts JJ, and you start to fear what might happen. 

"Thank you, man. I appreciate it."

"That's nice, but I didn't ask you. If you said pretty please, maybe, but you didn't."

"Oh, pretty please."

"Yeah. Sarah? How about you?” JJ tried to give her the cup.

"Pretty please?"

"You can have it." JJ insists on giving Sarah the cup.

"She doesn't want it, you-" Topper just spills the drink into JJ's face. 

JJ hits Topper, while John B and Sarah attempt to separate them.

"Dirty Pogues!" Topper screams and John B loses it and hits him.

"Hey, John B, don't make me drown you like your old man, all right?" 

People around you scream "Fight! Fight! Fight!" like this is some kind of joke.

The guys continue, and it seems like there are only three sane people in the middle of this, trying to stop it: you, Sarah and Kiara.

Things are getting pretty violent. Topper is holding John B's head, and he's slowly drowning him. Everyone around us is either inciting it or screaming, trying to end it. That's too much for you to watch, so you hide inside Rafe's arms and he pulls you closer.

Out of nowhere, someone screams, "He's got a gun" and you turn to see JJ with a gun pointed at Top's head.

"JJ, stop! Put the gun down!" Sarah screams desperately.

"Did you say something, princess?" He holds his position.

"JJ, what the fuck? Do you know what you are doing? Calm down, please."

"Oh, does princess number two want to join the ‘save the asshole’ party?" 

Your breath hitched in your throat as the cool metal met your temple – you had never been a fan of guns – but you wished that you knew how to use one or atleast how to defend yourself against someone with one as JJ Maybank bore the side of the pistol in his hand into your skull like his life depended on it. Your eyes met Rafe’s and you noted the panic that ran through them, though you knew no one else would and you thanked God for that, because if they had you were sure you would die on this beach, leaving Rafe to cradle what was left of your lifeless body. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion and you could barely hear Rafe’s words or the words of the pogues as they stood by, begging JJ to put the gun down. 

"You better get the gun away from her or I swear to God, your friends will be burying you tonight.” Rafe breathes, almost too calmly. “You know who has more power between us. I can make your life a living hell more than it is now.” 

Everyone knows that's true, even JJ himself. Yet, he didn’t seem to care about that at the moment, all he cared about was getting even with Rafe Cameron, the kook king himself and that’s what he thought he was doing when he pulled the trigger sending a harsh air into the side of your temple. You dropped to the sand and Rafe’s heart stopped for a split second as he raced over to your form. He gripped your cheeks, looking over your face, begging you to say anything as he searched for any source of blood, any place that a bullet would have entered your body. 

“Baby – Baby – talk to me, please!” 

You were dazed, your mind reeling. You wondered if you had been shot, if this was it for you, if you were dying – is this what dying felt like? You couldn’t make your mouth form words and your ears rang. Rafe shook you once again, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Sweet girl, what hurts? Are you hurt?!” 

You could only shake your head no as he looked over you and once he received confirmation that you were okay, he ordered Kelce to watch over you as he made his way over to where JJ stood. JJ looked in Rafe’s direction, knowing he had fucked up, knowing he was about to take the beating of his life. Rafe stalked towards him, anger pulsating through every vein in his body in a way that it never had. Pogues had always pissed him off or been a nuisance to him, but this – this was life or death – this was you and he couldn’t stand by and let these fuckers think they could get away with that. JJ shrunk into himself, thinking about making a break for it and Topper must’ve noticed, because he got to him before Rafe did, jerking him up by the collar of his shirt and snickering. 

“Listen, bud, accept your fate now – Rafe’s gonna kill you.” 

He chuckled and JJ’s fear made itself known as he tried to squirm out of Topper’s grasp. And just as he did, ready to make a break for it and leave his friends to fend for themselves, Rafe stepped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. 

“And, uh – just where do you think you’re going?” 

He growled. 

“Listen man –” 

JJ was cut off by Rafe’s forehead connecting with his nose, knocking him back abruptly. 

“No, see –, listening after you pull a gun on my girl? That doesn’t work for me.” 

His voice was sinister, yet cool and calm and ready – ready to kill his first pogue. Rafe shoved JJ back even further, his head connecting with the sand. Rafe’s only thought in that moment elicited a snicker from him as he thought about his tiny pogue brain shaking around in his head at the impact. He thought about it again as he ripped the gun from JJ’s grasp and knocked it against his nose, the crunch of his bones could be heard across the beach and Rafe let out a laugh. 

“If you think that hurts, you’re not gonna survive what comes next.” 

Topper snickered, bringing a beer to Rafe’s attention, handing it to him. Rafe’s demented and angry state gave him an idea and before he could even think he spit into the long-neck beer bottle, swishing the remaining liquid around and passing it back to Topper who spit in it as well and handed it back to Rafe. 

“Maybank, you uh–, you thirsty? I got something for you.” 

Rafe laughed menacingly, turning back to the crowd that had gathered around them on the beach before kneeling over JJ while Topper held down his shoulders against the sand and Rafe poured the tainted liquid down his throat. JJ kicked and attempted to scream, but his yells were muffled against the cool liquid as he fought against it. 

“Don’t fight it, princess.” 

Topper snickered, his grip on JJ’s shoulder’s tightening to prevent him from squirming away from Rafe. 

“Stop! You’re gonna kill him!” 

John B yelled, emerging from the crowd. 

“Trust me, JB, I’m not even close to killing him yet and when I am it’ll be justified. He almost took my world away from me, killing him wouldn’t be enough.” 

Rafe spoke through gritted teeth and threw the beer bottle to the side, stradling JJ and beginning to hit him over and over. 

-

You sat on the sand, Kelce’s strong arm wrapped around your waist as you tucked your knees further into your chest and laid your head on top of them. Rafe came barreling toward you, stopping as he took in the tears that were running down your cheeks. Your eyes were closed and you chanted to yourself “Rafe’s coming soon” over and over in a hushed whisper. His heart broke and the sight and he was filled with regret for leaving you with Kelce of all people while you were in this state. He knelt in front of your face, tucking the hair behind your ears and it was like almost immediately, you knew the touch was his. Your eyes flew open, and at the sight of him you cried even harder – a mix of fear and anger washed over you; anger at JJ, fear of Rafe being shot the way you almost had been. You jumped into his arms, almost knocking him over, but he steadied as he wrapped his arms around you and situated you on his lap. You buried your head in his chest and he wrapped one arm under your knees and the other around the back of your hair, pooling it in his hands. You tucked your face as deep into his chest as you could and he placed a kiss on your temple. 

“Hey, sweet girl. Talk to me, baby.” 

“Scared – wanna g-go home.” 

“Okay, mama. We’re going.” 

He whispered against your hairline, pushing himself off the ground by his legs and shifting you in his broad arms before carrying you bridal-style to his truck. 

[peppermint-toads]

you don’t like doctor’s offices. especially not now. you don’t like the hypnotic hum of the fluorescent lights, the cabinets that’ve been there since the late 80’s, the pamphlets sitting in an acrylic holder telling you that you have options.

options. not anymore. because you’re sitting on the examination table about 16 weeks pregnant, waiting for the doctor.

“the baby looks healthy,” the doctor tells you, barging into the room without a knock. “i’m prescribing zofran for the nausea. the nurse will see you out.”

thank fucking god. you wanted nothing more than to get the fuck out of this place. the best part about these visits was the walk home. they are usually quite pleasant. being pregnant in the summertime has its downfalls, but feeling the breeze in your hair and through your thin dress is your saving grace.

it’s just another bonus that you pass your favorite ice cream shop on the way home. you think you’ll have an affogato today, decaf, of course.

it smells like heaven in the shop, that cool, sweet smell from the coolers. your favorite. this is your saving grace, this affogato will solidify the day as a good one, despite the lingering feeling of doctor on you.

ice cream in hand, it’s finally time to go home. the walk is clearing your head already. you eat a spoonful of vanilla and sigh. maybe you ought to stop by the pharmacy for those meds. on second thought, that can be tomorrow’s task. you’ll be alright.

actually, maybe not. because you see simon riley’s stupid, bulking form walking towards you about a block away. fuck. shit fuck. you should hide. duck into the closest shop before he can come after you. but it’s no hope, you’re looking up and you’ve already made direct eye contact. nausea meds sound so good right now.

may as well keep going forward. it’s not like he’ll notice, anyway. you’re barely showing, but your white dress isn’t doing you any favors right now.

you’ll give a polite smile, duck your head, and all will be well. no stopping, no small talk, no—

simon is physically cornering you to a complete halt in the middle of the sidewalk, and there is nothing you can do about it. maybe if you curl your back in a little bit, the bump won’t be as noticeable.

“what are you doing? stop that.”

he is so gracefully referring to your posture.

“i don’t have time for this simon. i’ve got things to do.”

you walk sideways around him, and he follows.

“where are you coming from?”

you can’t help it. “you lost the right to ask that question when you fell off the face of the planet.”

you hear him grunt behind you and smile. great, no snide comments yet.

“you look different.”

shit. he’s jogging, catching up to you and walking by your side now. the breeze is picking up and you shift uncomfortably. the fabric of your dress is clinging to your stomach.

simon looks down, his intent is to see what you’re eating, but he catches a glimpse of your swollen stomach and freezes. he’s nearly swallowed by all the foot traffic.

“simon?” you feel the loss of him by your side. he’s stood still, strangers bumping into him and jostling his shoulders.

great. now you’re backtracking, when really all you want is to be at home, in bed.

“simon, what’s your problem?”

“you’re pregnant.”

time stops for him. he’s the father, no way he couldn’t be. unless you were cheating on him, which he highly doubts considering your heart is the purest thing he’s ever encountered during his time on this earth.

you let out a long, long sigh. “yeah.”

then you’re swaying, trying to keep upright and simultaneously swallowing down vomit. simon watches as the life drains from your face a bit. his hands are gripping your shoulders to stabilize you. his touch feels nice, warm.

“i need to get home,” you tell him with a sad smile, pained to be leaving his soft touch behind yet again.

“i’ll walk you.”

you nod. you don’t have the heart to ask him to take his hand off your waist, feels too good. and he’s keeping the world right side up.

it’s only a short distance home, and soon he’s ushering you up the stairs to your flat. you don’t stop him from doing that, either.

you also don’t stop him from pulling your favorite blanket over you after helping you lie down on the couch.

you don’t even get the chance to tell him to leave because you’re just so tired, and his presence makes you feel so safe. you’re falling asleep and quickly. he lets you.

he sits and watches you sleep for the better part of an hour. when you stir, he’s there, staring.

he’s in your lounge chair, chin resting on his folded knuckles.

“i’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me.”

you’re barely awake and what’s he saying? “huh?” you say stupidly, wiping your eyes of sleep.

“i said,” he swallows, “i’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me.”

you’re sitting straight up now, definitely more awake now. “i couldn’t have told you. even if i wanted to. you disappeared, simon.

he did. but he doesn’t have the time to explain that now. so, he ignores you.

“how far along are you?”

you tell him. he stands from the chair, sitting down right next to you. he asks if he can feel your stomach. you guess so.

things are getting a little too serious for you now.

“right, well. i had a lovely nap, and i’m feeling much better. thank you for walking me home, but i need to stop by the pharmacy and—”

he interrupts you, tugging your wrist when you try to stand. “i’ll go for you. i’ll do it, please. i’ll do anything you ask me to.

you frown down at him. “simon, there’s no point to this. please just go. it’s just… too late.”

simon’s heart is breaking. he didn’t think it could break anymore than it already has in the last few months.

“let me stay.”

he begs. you think there are tears in his eyes, and if you let them fall you know there’ll be no going back. so you sit with him, you let him kiss you with his hand on your stomach. you let him lay you down on the beat up couch he was always pestering you to replace. you let him pull your dress over your head and kiss his way down your stomach. you let him sink into you slowly and pull your calves up to rest on his shoulders. you let him cum inside of you, again.

you even let him go to the pharmacy for you.

[luvtak]

fade into you, lmh x reader

genre/tw est. relationship! suggestive, pure sugar cane fluff (like high fructose corn syrup fluff), minho only knows how to talk with his hands </3, gn!reader!! minho calls you kitty and honey <3!! seriously cavity inducing fluff be warned !! mostly unedited…

w/c 848

omg i haven’t posted a fic in so long nor have i written anything in months :(( but i’m finally a lot more settled after a busy drama filled couple of months! I hope you love this fic as much as i loved writing it. I’m not kidding when i say i wrote this in an hour on my phones notes app, don’t be afraid to tell me how you feel hehe 🩵

It’s cold outside your sleeping bag, frigid morning fog seeping into the once cozy tent. You shiver at Minho’s nose pressing into your neck, his face as cold as a dog who’s been outside too long. 

You’re not sure why you let your boyfriend convince you to camp in the middle of autumn… less sure why he insisted it was just the two of you, but you could never refuse Minho when he asked you so nicely— hands easing sighs while his mouth asked the question; the only thing you could say was yes, over and over. 

Unfortunately, the ecstasy of being asked was not akin to the actual experience.

Insistent rain stormed down from the second you arrived to the last minute before your eyes closed, Minho in all his excitement forgot the cooler and was forced to drive all the way back—leaving you to shiver in the tent alone. No, it was not the romantic getaway your boyfriend promised, but being here now—warm despite the wilderness’s wishes—you think it could be.

“Are you still cold, honey?” Minho asks, his voice just a whisper amongst the whistling trees. 

With your eyes still closed, you can only imagine what he looks like… Soft with sleep, his eyelashes cascading shadows across the slopes of his skin, beautiful like hypnos after creating dreams. You can feel his breath against your neck and his hands clutching at your waist, so safe despite how strong he is. 

“No, min, I’m just right” you say, and you can feel his laugh, rumbling through him, feel his smile against your skin. 

You wish he knew how much you cherish him… how much you treasure these little moments with him. How you’ll think about this moment every time he’s away from you; rolling the memory around your tongue like it’s a piece of candy. 

Sometimes, you’re sure you can see a cord running from you to him, wrapping around the two of you like cling wrap—like every moment you’ve ever had was crafted by the fates, your story weaved by the gods themselves. 

“Just right huh?” he says, before he’s lifting his head to look at you, eyes open and beautiful. “Well goldilocks, look how pretty you are this morning.” His smile is mischievous and if you didn’t know better you may think he was joking, but his tone gives him away: too quiet to be anything but the truth. 

“Minho!” you cry, embarrassed by compliments this early, “lay back down, I need you to keep me warm.” He smiles down at you, knowing you well enough to see that you’re flustered, it’s always too easy; one compliment, and your skin is hot, his kiss lasts a second too long and you’re pulling away shaking. 

Minho doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of making your blood rush, enjoying the chase even when he has you. 

When his skin gets closer to yours again, chest to chest/heart to heart, you find yourself breathing his air like you share one pair of lungs. He’s so close to you, searing your skin even as the sleeping bag pulls awkwardly around your legs, letting cool air settle around your figure. 

His lips are so close to yours, one breath away from a kiss, so close you can feel his words flow into your open mouth. 

“Are you warm now, kitty?”  he asks, his eyes boring into yours before flitting down to look at your skin; miles and miles of it under his hands, valleys of skin that are his as much as yours.

“I’m warm, Minho, are you?” Just a whisper.

“just right.” A smirk. 

One breath, two breaths, three, and then he’s kissing you. Lips urging gasps to flow out of you, hands grasping at his tension filled spine. You’ve shared many kisses, sweet and sultry, frantic and lust filled, but something about this hunger is foreign to you. 

His kiss is filled with wanting yes, but it’s almost like he’s trying to tell you something but forgot the words. His hands on your thighs urging you to listen, please please please understand, they say, clutching at the muscle like he’s afraid you’ll never know. 

But you do, and so do your lips and your hands and you try your hardest to speak his language; responding to every bite with a nip of your own, gasping when his hands ask, kissing away the sleep still in his eyes. You know what he’s saying, I love you, I’m sorry you’re cold, I’m sorry I made you come on this rain coated trip, I love you I'm sorry, I love you I love you.” 

Your boy, always so embarrassed to tell you how he feels, but never afraid to show you. 

When you pull apart, hands locked together still, eyes gleaming with an inside joke, a shared confession; you can see he wants to say something, see he’s trying to build the courage to split his heart open. Instead he flits his eyes up to the sky and smiles. 

Look honey, the suns coming out” 

And you understand. 

© LUVTAK 2024

[sundropflowerr]

Trace Your Constellations | Steve Harrington

★ Warnings: no use of y/n, post s3 before s4, fluff, mutual pining, awkward tension, idiot duo in love, light teasing, longing glances, emotional vulnerability, quiet moments, quiet comfort, moments of personal growth, slight self-doubt.

★ Summary: After everything Hawkins put you through, you and Steve find yourselves on the roof of Family Video, stargazing and toeing the line between friends and something more. It’s quiet, it’s soft, and maybe—just maybe—he’s finally seeing the stars the way you do. 2k

★ Pairings: steve harrington x fem!reader

★ Fic Inspiration: “Constellations: Piano Version” - Jade LeMac

★ Author's Note: thank you to @enchanthings for the star divider, it’s greatly appreciated and i love love love it. this is my first writing piece, i can’t believe it! though it might be messy and only a one-shot, i hope you all enjoy it.

You and Steve Harrington were stuck together like glue.

Not by choice at first, but that didn’t seem to matter now.

Somewhere between the Byers’ house, where Steve first swung that nail-studded bat like a maniac to protect everyone, and the tunnels beneath Hawkins, where he grabbed your shoulder and told you “We’re getting out of this. Just keep moving,” something shifted. After Starcourt—after fire, smoke, and holding his hand in the parking lot while you stared at the wreckage—it stopped being just survival.

It was the last-night drives when neither of you could sleep, the lazy afternoons when he’d lean on the counter at the music store you worked at, flipping through cassette tapes just to annoy you.

Steve still insists he just hangs out with you because your music store is “conveniently” across the street. He’ll pop in during his shifts at Family Video, lean against the counter like he owns the place, and pick apart the stack of cassette tapes you’re organizing. “What’s this? Too cool for a little Springsteen?” he’d say, tossing you his signature smug grin. You’d roll your eyes, toss it right back, and remind him he only listens to what you tell him to.

Robin called it weeks ago. “You guys are, like, weirdly close.” Eddie had chimed in too, smirking like he knew something you didn’t: “You two ever gonna admit you’re basically one soft moment away from a rom-com montage?” You brushed them off every time—what did they know?

But it’s harder to brush them off when you’re here, on the roof, the quiet of the summer night pressing in around you. It’s the kind of quiet you only get after midnight in Hawkins, where the cicadas buzz in the distance and the stars shine brighter because half the town’s lights don’t work right. The air smells faintly of asphalt and cut grass, warm but with the promise of cooler hours ahead, and everything feels still—so still it’s like the world’s holding its breath.

It had been Steve’s idea, though he acted like it wasn’t a big deal—like he didn’t spend half his shift thinking it up. Earlier that afternoon, you’d walked into Family Video, the bell above the door jingling like it always did, announcing your presence. The store smelled faintly like stale popcorn and cleaning spray, and Steve was leaning back against the counter, his green vest rumpled, hands shoved in his pockets. Robin, crouched on the floor with a stack of tapes, only glanced up long enough to mutter something sarcastic before diving back into organizing the horror section.

“Finally,” Steve said, pushing himself up with exaggerated relief. “Someone who’s not Robin to keep me entertained.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m here for you,” you shot back, a grin tugging at your lips as you perched yourself on the counter next to him. The surface was cool against the back of your legs, and you kicked your feet slightly, heels bumping the cabinets beneath.

Robin, without looking up, waved a hand in Steve’s direction. “Don’t let him fool you. He’s been staring at the clock for twenty minutes.”

Steve groaned loudly in her direction, rolling his eyes before turning back to you. “Slow day. Feels like we’re in some kind of weird dead zone where no one in this godforsaken town likes movies anymore.”

“Or maybe they just don’t like you.” Robin’s voice was muffled as she slid another tape onto the shelf.

Steve ignored her, squinting at you like he was trying to gauge your mood. “What are you doing later?”

You raised an eyebrow. “That depends. Why?”

He scratched at the back of his neck, looking down like he was embarrassed to even ask. “I was just thinking…” He paused, tilting his head slightly to the side as if he’d decided to go for it. “It’s a nice night. After my shift, you wanna hang out? On the roof.”

“The roof?”

“Yeah. Of this fine establishment.” He knocked his knuckles lightly against the counter like he was showing off prime real estate, a little smile tugging at his lips. “You can see the stars better up there. Plus, it’s quiet. Robin and I go up sometimes. It’s… nice.”

You tilted your head at him, watching the way he shifted his weight slightly, like he wasn’t sure you’d say yes. “The stars, huh? No thrilling Steve Harrington monologue about life and the meaning of the universe?”

He groaned, throwing his head back in dramatic exasperation. “Forget it. Invite taken back.”

You laughed, nudging his arm with your shoulder, feeling the soft warmth of his skin through his vest. “Relax. I’ll come. It sounds nice.”

He looked back at you, his face softening into a crooked smile, his eyes lingering on yours for a beat too long. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And now, here you were. Hours later, the summer night stretching endlessly above you, blanketed by stars that seemed impossibly bright. Steve had climbed up first—grabbing onto the edge of the roof like it was nothing and pulling himself up before leaning down to offer you a hand. His fingers were warm and solid when they wrapped around yours, tugging you up with more strength than you’d anticipated. You’d stumbled slightly when you landed, but Steve’s other hand shot out, steadying you with a muttered, “Careful there.”

The roof wasn’t the most comfortable place in the world, but Steve had brought a blanket—some old, ugly checkered thing that smelled faintly of fabric softener and the inside of a car that’s been baking in the sun. You sat shoulder to shoulder, your knees bent, elbows resting against them as you both stared at the sky. The gravel beneath the blanket shifted slightly every time you moved, the crunch of it loud in the otherwise perfect stillness.

Steve stretched his arms out behind him, fingers splayed against the gravel as he leaned back to look at the sky. The muscles in his forearms flexed slightly, catching in the faint light from the streetlamps below. “Told you the roof was a good idea,” he said, breaking the quiet.

You tilted your head, glancing over at him. His hair—wild as ever—stuck up slightly, the edges catching the faintest breeze. The light shadow of stubble along his jaw was more noticeable from this angle, and you caught yourself lingering on the sight before you could stop.

“It’s alright,” you said, teasing. “Not as magical as you made it sound, though.”

Steve turned to you, lips parting into a look of mock offense. “Not as magical? What more do you want? I brought you here, gave you a prime stargazing spot—this is, like, peak effort.”

You laugh, stretching your legs out a little, the soles of your sneakers scuffing against the gravel. “Peak effort would’ve been snacks. Maybe a soda.”

“Oh, sorry I didn’t roll out the red carpet for you.” He shook his head with a dramatic sigh, though there was a smile pulling at his lips. “Next time I’ll bring a waiter.”

“Next time, huh?”

His shoulders froze for half a second, like he hadn’t realized he’d said it, before he relaxed again. “Yeah, well… if you’re lucky.”

You smiled faintly, looking back up at the stars. The quiet slipped back in, the kind of quiet that feels like a blanket wrapping around you—soft and warm and perfectly still. The cicadas buzzed faintly in the distance, their hum mixing with the occasional rustle of leaves in the trees far below. The sky stretched endlessly above, a wash of navy and scattered constellations, and for a moment, it was easy to forget about everything else.

And when Steve shifted beside you—just barely, so his shoulder bumped yours—you felt yourself still, suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of space between you.

Steve stretches his arms behind his head, breaking the silence. “You know, I still don’t get constellations.”

You look over, amused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, like…” He tilts his head back, gesturing vaguely at the sky. “They say that’s a guy with a sword, or whatever? That’s just dots. Someone’s connecting invisible lines, and we’re all supposed to be impressed.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “That’s Orion’s Belt, and you just have no imagination, Harrington.”

Steve turns to you, his mouth twitching into that lopsided grin he always gets when he’s ready to argue with you. “I have plenty of imagination, thank you very much. I’ve survived monsters and alternate dimensions. I just think stars are trying a little too hard, you know?”

“Stars are trying too hard?” you say, incredulous. “What does that even mean?”

“It means…” He pauses, looking up at the sky again, brow furrowed like he’s actually trying to make sense of it. “I think people try too hard to make them something they’re not. Can’t they just be stars?”

You roll your eyes but smile anyway. “Or maybe you’re just too stubborn to let yourself see them.”

Steve doesn’t answer right away. The quiet slips back in, softer this time, and you watch as he exhales slowly, his gaze lingering on the sky. “Maybe,” he finally says, almost too low for you to hear.

Something about it makes your chest ache a little. You don’t know when it started—this feeling you get when Steve’s around—but it’s been there more and more lately. It’s in the way he drops by the music store to kill time, like he doesn’t have anywhere better to be. It’s in the way he always lets you pick the music, even if he pretends to hate half of it. It’s in the way he remembers the tiniest details about you—like how you can’t sleep without white noise, or how you take your coffee with exactly one and a half sugars because two is too sweet but one isn’t enough.

And now it’s here, in the way he looks so at ease next to you, like there’s no place he’d rather be.

“Do you ever think about leaving?” you ask suddenly, your voice breaking the quiet. “Like, leaving Hawkins?”

Steve hums in thought, eyes still on the sky. “Yeah, sometimes. I mean, how could I not? This place is cursed.”

You huff out a quiet laugh. “No kidding.”

“But…” He trails off, turning his head to look at you. His voice is quieter when he continues. “I don’t know. I think it’s different now. Before, I wanted to leave because I didn’t have anything here. I thought I’d find it somewhere else. But…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, and for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to ask him to. You’re pretty sure you already know what he’s trying to say.

The air between you shifts, subtle but noticeable. Steve’s looking at you now, really looking at you, and it makes you hyper-aware of every inch of space between you—how close your hands are on the blanket, how his knee bumps yours every time he shifts.

“What?” you ask softly, because the way he’s staring at you is starting to make your heart do stupid things.

Steve shakes his head, smiling faintly. “Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“Okay, fine.” He sighs, tipping his head back against the gravel like he’s trying to play it cool. “It’s just… nights like this, you know? When it’s quiet, and you’re here. Makes me think maybe Hawkins isn’t so bad.”

You freeze, your breath catching in your chest. He says it so casually, like it doesn’t mean anything, but you know Steve. You know when he’s being flippant and when he’s saying something real, and this? This is real.

“Yeah,” you say after a moment, your voice quieter now. “I get that.”

You don’t look at him, but you feel his hand brush against yours—barely there, just his pinky against your knuckle. It’s so small you could pretend it didn’t happen, but you don’t. Instead, you let your hand relax, let your fingers rest just close enough to his that you know he can feel it.

Steve doesn’t say anything about it, but you can tell he notices. You can tell because his breathing changes, because he’s suddenly so still next to you.

“Hey,” he says after a minute, voice soft.

“Yeah?”

“I see it.”

You blink, finally turning your head to look at him. “See what?”

He grins, barely there but still so Steve, and nods toward the sky. “Orion’s Belt. The dots.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Took you long enough.”

He doesn’t let go of your hand.

And you don’t seem to mind.

thank you so much for reading! please like/reblog or comment if you did, it would be greatly appreciated. have a great day!

[lulunothulu]

“Phone neighbor”

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: You’re bored one night and decide to text your phone neighbor…who happens to be a very hot (and cocky) aviator.

Content: drinking, fluff

Friday nights are so boring. Especially when you have nothing to do for the night.

Your friend, Natasha, invited you to go to the bar she and her aviator buddies frequent. Hard Deck, was that the name? Who knows. Either way, you didn’t think hitting a bar right now would do you much good.

You’d been in a reclusive and lonely mood all week but right now, you were feeling adventurous.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and dial the first nine digits of your number but changed the last number to the following one that came after yours.

Let’s play a game of phone number neighbor.

You: Hi, so this is random, but you’re my number neighbor.

Them: Oh really?

You: Yes… so you’re from Texas too?

Them: Born and raised in Austin.

You: That’s so cool, I was raised in El Paso and Houston.

Them: Nice! Are you still there?

You: Nah, I’m in California. How about you?

Them: Funny enough, I’m in California too. I’m in the Navy, a pilot 🤠

You: Oh shit! You might know my friend, Natasha Trace.

———

Jake smiled down at his phone. “Hey Phoenix!”

Nat turns around, rolling her eyes at him. “What?”

“I think I just met your friend.”

“What?” She looks around. “Where? And who?”

“I don’t know their name, let me ask,” he says. He looks down at his phone, sending a quick text before smiling and telling her your name.

“Holy shit!” She laughs.

“Is she single?” Jake asks.

“She is actually…give me a second.”

———

“Hello?” You say, answering your phone.

“What the hell are you doing?” Nat asks.

You can hear the noise and chatter coming from the bar you knew she’d be at.

“I’m at home doing a face mask,” you tell her.

“No I mean, with Hangman,” she tells you.

“Who’s Hangman?”

“The person you’re texting?” She laughs.

Hangman: So you know Phoenix? How?

You: We grew up together. She’s practically my sister.

“Hey, he’s texting me right now,” you tell her.

“I have an idea.”

Hangman: What do you look like?

You: I’ll send you a picture of you send me one too.

Hangman: What? You want proof?

You: Sure, let’s call it that.

Hangman: [Picture]

Hangman: I’m on the left, that’s Bob in the middle, and Fanboy on the end.

Hangman: Your turn.

You smile, sending him a picture of you with your green face mask, hand up in a peace sign and lips in a duck face position.

Hangman: That’s not what I expected but still hot.

Hangman: Wait a second… did Nat call you?

You: Maybe…

[Incoming call from ‘Hangman’]

“Hello?”

“Hey, mask lady. Nat!” You hear him say. His voice is deep and southern drawl thick. “Tell your friend to send me a real picture of her.”

“Y/N?” You hear her say.

“Hey, Nat.”

“Send this pretty boy your face. He’s desperate and threatening to make me drive him to your house.”

You laugh. “Fine. Should I send the one with my tits pushed up?”

“Jesus Christ, tell her yes.” You hear Hangman say in the background.

“Tell him that I’ll send him a normal one and to stop listening to our conversation,” you tell Nat. “Actually, pass him back.”

“Hi,” you hear Hangman say.

“Hi back, cowboy,” you reply.

“I like that nickname, makes me sound a lot cooler than I am,” he tells you.

You laugh. “I’d like to know your real name, and not your callsign.”

“I’m Jake. Jake Seresin,” he tells you. “You don’t have to tell me your name. I already know.”

“Yeah I figured that much,” you mutter.

“When can I see you in person?” He asks.

“When are you free?” You smile and bite your lip.

“How about now? Come to Hard Deck.”

“I don’t really do bars…”

“Then I’ll come to you. What’s your address?”

You laugh. “I don’t even know you like that. What if you’re a psycho?”

“I wouldn’t be a top pilot in the navy sweetheart.” You chuckle, making him wait before he asks, “Soooo can I come over?”

“Have you been drinking?”

“Not really,” he tells you.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“You can come over. But bring food, I’m starving.” You tell him.

“Same,” he tells you. “And it’ll give you enough time to get ready and wash that face mask off.”

Fuck I forgot about that.

“I’ll see you soon.”

———

A face wash, makeup application, and teeth brushing later, you hear Hangman—Jake—ring the doorbell.

After changing into some cute sweats, you run downstairs and answer the door.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hey yourself,” he says. He’s a lot taller than you thought he’d be. And a lot hotter than you thought too. He holds up a bag of takeout and a gym bag. “I brought food and a change of clothes.”

He’s wearing his khaki Aviation uniform still.

“Yeah, come on in.” You step to the side, allowing him to come in. “Bathroom’s down the hall and to the left.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he smiles.

God his smile made him so much hotter.

When he comes back from the bathroom changed and in gray sweatpants and a Texas Longhorns shirt, you smile and wave him over to your couch.

“What’re you watching?” He asks.

“Nothing that the moment,” you tell him. “I was waiting for you.”

“How sweet.” He smiles. “This has to be the best first date I’ve a been on in a long time.”

“Who said this was a date?” You ask, raising your eyebrows.

“Oh, did I assume?” He cockily smirks at you which makes your cheeks turn red. “And from the way you’re blushing, I’d say you’d like this to be a date.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, a smile playing on your lips.

Two hours later, Jake is still at your place and your head is resting on his shoulder.

“That was a cute movie,” he tells you. “Why did I cry so much?”

“Because Toy Story 3 is ruthless,” you sigh, wiping your eyes.

“Either way, I don’t think I can sleep if we don’t watch something else.”

You sit up and face him. “Why? You too sad to leave?”

“No, I don’t want to leave yet,” he says truthfully. “Plus, it’s my turn to choose a movie.”

“Which is?”

“Legally Blonde.”

You smile, scoffing before laughing and shaking your head. “You surprise me.”

“In a good way, I hope.”

“Definitely,” you nod.

“Can I surprise you one more time?” He asks, voice barely over a whisper.

You shrug and smirk. “Depends on what it is.”

He places a hand on your cheek, snaking his fingers to the back of your neck.

“Can I ask you one more thing?”

“That counts as a question,” you whisper.

He chuckles. “That one doesn’t count.”

“Go ahead.”

He takes a deep breath, leaning in close to the point his nose touches your own. Your heart is pounding, excitement and anticipation flowing through your body.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please do.”

So he does, soft and sweet at first. That is, until you pull his head in, deepening the kiss. Your mouths race, devouring and exploring every inch of your mouths. You shift your body, straddling Jake’s lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, something you notice feels so normal, you don’t want it to end.

“Take me upstairs.” You order.

“Yes ma’am.”

[cynical-ghost]

SECRETS OUT

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Female!motocross!Reader

Genre: Fluffy, Social media-smau

Warning(s): translated French, language? Use of Y/N

A/N: So this is my first post on here, I’m open to constructive criticism. I hope you enjoy, Stay hydrated xoxo

Synopsis: Charles and you soft launch your relationship - fc: multiple

Y/nforeal

Liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff, lilymhe and 654,583 others

Y/nforeal get yourself a guy that buys you flowers🌹

User1 since when was mother in a relationship🥲

User2 is this my new father?

Yourbff you two make me feel extremely single😭🩷

User3 tell us who he is!!

Y/nforeal Dw baby, you still my #1🩷🔥🩷🔥

Yourbff Love youuuu xoxo

User4 Who are we going to rant to about being lonely now…

User5 Mother has turned to the dark side😔

User6 this is sickening… carry on

User7 father??

User8 so we not gunna talk about the first pic?

User9 ikr like it’s only the start, I’m scared of what’s to come🤭

lilymhe ugh it’s a male

alex_albon ???

Y/nforeal Gf, I have an idea…

lilymhe…go on…

Y/nforeal right so, me, you white dresses=wives…???

lilymhe 💍💍

alex_albon tf just happed?

User10 so does this mean he’s an F1 driver?

charles_leclerc

liked by Y/nforeal, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 2,098,485 others

charles_leclerc so how is everyone doing?

User7 now what is this…

User11 twt is bout to go crazy😃

User2 Y/n in the likes?

User14 who’s Y/n

User2 Y/n L/n is a motocross racer, you should check her out

User14 thanks 🙏

Y/nforeal now who took that pic🤔

charles_leclerc I don’t know, I think she was a crazy fan

Y/nforeal 😃😒

User3 oh so this is happening rn

User4 you see it too?

User3 oh I see it alright…

User15 you guys are dululu..

Y/nforeal

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, yourbff and 743,982 others

Y/nforeal My back arched like a cat...😏🏍️

User1 that is so sick

User5 I can hardly do whips yet😭

Y/nforeal keep working, you’ll get there eventually🩷

User5 Omg ty, I love you so much!

Yourbff I’m still the cool one😁

Y/nforeal you sure about that?

Yourbff Fine, that pic makes you look cooler that normal😒

Y/nforeal love you to🩷

charles_leclerc 😏

carlossainz55 mate…wtf

Y/nforeal 🫡

User6 is this confirmation orrr..

User7 let him cook

charles_leclerc

liked by Y/nforeal, carlossainz55, yourbff and 2,095,985 others

charles_leclerc the not so secret secret, je t'aime ma chère❤️💐(I love you my darling)

Y/nforeal I love you more❤️🫶

User7 I FUCKING KNEW IT!

User2 I waited a while for this one

oscarpiastri Lando is asking to be unblocked

charles_leclerc🫡

Y/nforeal 🫡

landonorris FINALLY I AM FREE FROM MY RESTRAINTS 🙌

Y/nforeal you know why you were restricted

landonorris I do not!

oscarpiastri You can’t help your self when you start gossiping you can’t stop🤐

charles_leclerc what he said^

Y/nforeal

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff, landonorris and 986,367 others

Y/nforeal does this mean I get to be horny for this man on main?😏

charles_leclerc come back to bed😏

carlossainz55 there are children present..

landonorris I am children

oscarpiastri ^^^

[covenofagatha]

alright alright i’m thinking dub!con modern/nonmagic au.. into something rough and/or bondage. we love the age gap. i’m leaving a lot of holes lmfao i will talk shop if you want specifics baby

finally finished omg

hope everyone enjoys

title is from Chains by Nick Jonas cause why not

Chains for your love

When you're house sitting for your neighbors Agatha and Rio, you decide to throw a party and they are not happy when they find out

Word count: 3400

Warnings: dubcon, smut, rough sex, bondage (handcuffs), vibrators, fingering, spanking, choking, threesome, might be missing one or two sorry if so, age gap (all legal)

Your neighbors would kill you if they found out what you were doing right now. 

Agatha and Rio, the couple next door, had asked you to house sit for them while they were on vacation to Cabo for a week as a favor to your mom. 

You had just graduated from high school and she said, and you quote, “you need to get your lazy butt off the couch and do something with your life or so help me.” 

So when Agatha mentioned to her that they were leaving for a while, your mom had thrown you under the bus. 

You didn’t know much about your neighbors, only that they were two smoking hot older women who were kind of crazy. You had also barely ever interacted with them, always at school or doing homework when they came over to have lunch with your mom. 

Agatha is about ten years older than her wife, with long dark curly hair and piercing blue eyes. Her fashion sense is always on point and her veiny hands do things to you. 

Rio, while pale and a brunette as well, is tall and lean, and very intense. Her hazel eyes bore into you whenever you’d come downstairs to get a glass of water, like she knew something that you didn’t. When she looks at you like that, you can’t help but squirm and wonder if you did something wrong. And yet, for some reason, you find it hot.

All you had to do while they were gone was stop by, water their plants, collect their mail, and make sure their house was in order. 

Which you did, perfectly, you might add. 

It just so happened that on the last night of house sitting, you were supposed to go to a party at your friend’s house to celebrate the end of senior year, but her parents came home early so she needed to move it. 

And you had the brilliant idea to use the giant, empty house at your disposal. 

Cue the music, lights, and drinks. 

“This is so nice of your neighbors to let us use their house!” Your best friend Wanda yells at you. 

You laugh, pretending not to have heard her over the bass, because they certainly did not. 

In fact, you think, you think they would be quite opposed to it. 

Agatha and Rio were quiet people; they didn’t like mess, especially in their house.

And this here, with Jimmy Woo throwing up in the bathroom and Natasha Romanoff knocking over a bottle of beer on the ground and two people making out in the pool, was as messy as it could get. 

You’re on your second wine cooler, feeling it start to hit, and you stumble around the living room, trying to assess the damage before the party is even over. 

It may have gotten more out of hand than you were intending it to. When you had told your mom what you were doing, you had mentioned having a few people over for pizza, and she had said that if it got out of hand, or if she heard about even one thing being out of place when Agatha and Rio got back, she would, and you quote, “ground your butt until you graduated from college.” 

You almost pointed out the irony of her wanting you to do something, but the moment you were going to, she threatened to not let you do anything for the next four years, but decided against it. 

“Here!” A bottle of beer is pressed into your hand and you turn to find Darcy Lewis standing there. Even though you shouldn’t, you take a swig and Wanda leaves to go find her boyfriend. “Cool party!” 

“Thanks!” You shout back and she giggles before taking your hand and leading you into the kitchen, where it’s a little quieter. You haven’t talked to Darcy that much, but she was in two of your classes and you know she’s going to MIT. 

“Got any summer plans?” She asks but she slurs the words. You laugh like it’s the funniest thing ever. “What?” 

You point at her, almost doubling over. “You’re so drunk!” 

She looks scandalized for a second, raises her hand to fix her glasses, and then becomes hysterical too. “So are you!” 

The next thing you know, Darcy and you are kissing. 

You’re not sure who started it, but her mouth is against yours and your tongue is in her mouth. 

You pull back, there’s some eye contact, and then the two of you crack up again and she goes outside to the patio. 

Drunken makeout accomplished and your head sufficiently spinning from the two and a half drinks now, you make it a mission to start cleaning up. 

You’ve collected half a trash bag full of cans when people start pouring out of the house, telling you to “stay in touch!” and “have fun at college!” and then it’s just you in the house. 

There’s still a lot to clean up, but you’re tired and sloshed, so you set an alarm on your phone for six in the morning so you can get up and tidy up the rest before Agatha and Rio get home. 

You pass out on the couch immediately. 

Which turns out to be a huge mistake, because when you finally wake up in the morning, your neighbors are sitting in the chairs across from the coffee table, both wearing matching displeased looks. 

You shoot up, scrambling into a sitting position, heart pounding. “What–” You furiously tap your phone to find out why the alarm didn’t go off, but it doesn’t turn on. 

Of course it died. 

Rio chuckles, leaning back and crossing a leg over the other, amused with your panic. “Care to explain what happened here last night, doll?” 

Your cheeks redden and you try to think of something that won’t get you in trouble because it seems like you are fucked. “I had some friends over,” you say, and it sounds pathetic even to your ears.

Agatha tuts and rests her elbows on her knees. “‘Some friends?’ Angel, have you seen what our house looks like?” 

You gulp and take a look around, dread sinking deeper into your stomach. The pieces of glass that no one picked up. All the cans and bottles you missed. A sweatshirt thrown onto the floor. Pizza crusts and plates scattered across the furniture. 

“I was going to clean it up, I swear,” you say, your throat suddenly really dry. 

“Oh, and,” Rio says, so cheerful for no reason. You can only imagine what she’s going to say, but she takes out her phone and taps the screen. You raise an eyebrow and she turns it to you. 

At first, you’re not really sure what you’re looking at, but then it becomes clear. 

It’s a recording of you and Darcy making out in their kitchen, the angle from somewhere on the counter. 

You lurch back on the couch. “You were spying on me?” You hiss, feeling violated.

Agatha rolls her eyes and scoffs. “Please, darling, this is our house, we can do whatever we want in it. Plus, we weren’t sure if we could trust such an immature, young thing like you and clearly, we couldn’t.” 

The jab about your age makes you angry. “I’m not that young and I’m not immature!” You say indignantly. 

“Making out like a slut with the first girl who gives you attention while drunk at a lame high school party?” Rio taunts, standing up and sliding next to you on the couch. You feel the pit in your stomach grow when Agatha does the same on the other side. You’re not sure who to look at. “Seems like something a childish brat would do.” 

“And now, we think there should be consequences,” Agatha coos, hand coming to brush a piece of your hair back behind your ear. Fear spikes through your veins. 

“Please don’t tell my mom! She can’t find out about this, I’ll be in so much trouble,” you beg and Agatha smirks. You jump when you feel Rio’s hand touch your thigh and you freeze when it slides up to the hem of your short skirt.

“So you don’t want us to tell your mom,” Rio muses, toying with the edge of the fabric. You have to bite back a moan and it becomes hard to breathe. “I guess that means we’ll have to punish you some other way for creating such a mess.” 

“What did you–” You have to stop to swallow roughly. “What did you have in mind?” 

Agatha hums lowly. “We need to make sure you learn your lesson, no matter how hard we have to beat it into you.” You whimper and pray that neither of them heard it. 

But of course they did.

Rio snickers and cups your pussy, all the air being punched out of your lungs. “God, she’s dripping, Aggie,” she says and your face burns hotter than it ever has. 

You shake your head, denying how much you actually want this, and try to clamp your legs close, but Agatha pries one open and Rio moves her fingers up and down your clothed slit. 

“We can always go next door and tell your mom,” Agatha warns and that’s all it takes to convince you. You turn to Rio, wrap your arms around her, and pull her in for a kiss. 

Immediately, Agatha yanks you back by your hair and Rio slaps you across the face. It’s not hard enough to seriously hurt, but the sting makes you gasp. 

“Bedroom, now,” Agatha barks and practically drags you off the couch and up the stairs, Rio practically cackling while she follows. 

You’re thrown onto the bed in the room that you may have snooped through a few times this week. Enough times to find all of their toys in their bedside drawer and imagine the women using them on each other. 

The same nightstand where Rio is heading toward now. You watch her saunter over, lips parting, but Agatha roughly grabs your chin and forces your mouth open with her thumb. 

“Don’t look at her,” she growls and leans down to whisper in your ear, “If you ever want us to stop, say purple.” 

The second you nod, she spits directly into your mouth. A strangled moan leaves your throat and Agatha slides two fingers inside your mouth to spread her saliva all over your tongue. You gag around them as she pushes them deeper and you feel tears pricking your eyes. She scrapes her nails against your tongue and you roll it up to flick at her fingers, not missing the way she bites her lip. 

And then she flips you over so your stomach is on the bed, hikes your skirt over your ass, and spanks you. The impact reverberates through your body and the sound echoes throughout the room.

“Fuck,” you gasp.

“A young thing like you shouldn’t be using such dirty language,” Agatha tsks and slaps you again. “That’s for kissing that whore in our kitchen.” 

Again. 

“That’s for leaving a mess all over our house.” 

Again. 

“That’s for proving us wrong when we thought we could trust you.” 

Again. 

“That’s for making us punish you the second we get back from our lovely vacation.” 

Again. 

“And that is for teasing us all those times at your house when you’d come downstairs dressed in barely anything. It’s like you wanted us to notice how desperate you were for us,” she snaps. 

You’ve dissolved into a moaning, sniveling puddle on their bed but the thought that you’ve been unknowingly turning this couple on makes you even hotter inside. 

Agatha reaches down to the crotch of your underwear and laughs meanly. “God, you’re so fucking wet, did being spanked like a slut turn you on?”

While you consider yourself a proud person, there’s absolutely no pride in the way you nod your head so hard it hurts. 

She tears your panties off and shoves two fingers in you without preamble. A loud sound rips out of your mouth and your body rocks forward with the force. She fucks you with a brutal pace and it’s exactly what you need, but then she pulls out and slaps you harder than before on the ass. You groan, absorbing the hit, and you feel yourself clench around nothing. 

You need her fingers back inside you, but she turns you back over and you prop yourself up on your elbows. 

Rio comes back into view with two pairs of fluffy handcuffs and a few other toys. “Get against the headboard,” she orders and you scramble to obey. She hands one pair to Agatha and they both make quick work of chaining one cuff to your wrist and the other to the bedside post. You give an experimental tug of both hands and while you can wiggle your arms and wrists comfortably, there’s no getting out. 

The two women come back around the bed to face you and you squirm under their direct attention. 

“What do you think we should do with our naughty little plaything?” Rio asks, tongue pushing against the inside of her cheek, eyes lighting up with possibilities. 

They fall into these roles so well and you can only imagine what it’s like when the two of them have sex. 

“I think we should fuck her until she can’t take anymore and she’s begging for us to stop,” Agatha muses with a smirk. Your breath catches at her idea. 

“I think the slut likes that sound of that,” Rio says and Agatha nods in agreement. “Maybe we hold the vibrator against her until she cries. What do you think, doll?” She raises an eyebrow at you. 

“Whatever you want, please just touch me,” you beg. 

Agatha bends over to run a finger up your thigh, watching how you shake. “Be careful what you wish for, angel.” She crawls onto the bed so she’s kneeling in front of you and once again, pushes two fingers forcefully into your dripping pussy. She’s not gentle at all, curling her fingers and scraping her nails against your insides, but it’s perfect. 

You struggle against the handcuffs, wishing you could touch her, but Rio tuts, takes off her pants and underwear, and moves to straddle your stomach, blocking Agatha partially from your view. 

Your breath hitches as she pulls up the crop top from the party last night and lowers her wet cunt onto your abs and lightly grinds. Her head falls back and you think you could cum from the feeling of her against you like that.

And then she starts moving faster just as Agatha does, her fingers filling you and fucking you just how you need it, and Rio’s right hand comes to clasp around your throat. You throb around Agatha’s fingers and you had no idea that would be such a turn on for you. 

Agatha’s thumb presses down so hard on your clit that it almost hurts while she keeps her merciless pace and your hips start to buck against her fingers. Rio squeezes harder and the lightheadedness you feel only drags you closer to the edge. Her nails dig into your skin and you think you might die from how good it feels. 

“Are you going to cum for us?” Agatha asks from behind the woman riding your stomach faster. 

“Yes,” you manage to choke out, seeing Rio’s delighted face on top of you. 

And then Agatha pulls her fingers out of you and you whine loudly, only for her to slap your pussy hard. 

You can hear the wetness. 

And then you can hear buzzing. 

Agatha presses something against your clit and you almost jump out of your skin. 

It’s the vibrator and you’re guessing she turned it up to one of the highest settings. It’s so intense on you and you can’t help but cry out as it sends you straight into an orgasm. Being breathless from Rio’s hand around your throat only increases the pleasure and you’ve never felt anything like that before.

You expect some relief from the assault on your clit but it never comes. Agatha holds it against you while Rio slips a finger down to her own pussy to get more direct stimulation where she needs. The woman on top of you is beginning to fall apart and it only heightens your own sensitivity. 

The vibrations have your hips rolling and you quickly cum again, and this time, you try to close your legs or scooch up the bed to get it off, but Agatha doesn’t let you. 

She rakes her nails on your leg and then you feel her roughly bite your inner thigh. You gasp and your hips buck up, almost throwing Rio off. 

Rio finally takes her hand off your throat and bends down over you so she can suck marks into your collarbones as well. 

Both their mouths on you and the vibrations still on your clit throw you right over the edge again. 

This time, Agatha does move it away from you and you can finally breathe.

But not for long, because Agatha slides a finger back inside your sopping cunt and lazily fucks you. Rio’s panting on top of you and she finally buckles with pleasure as she cums for the first time. It’s the hottest thing ever, the way she tosses her head back and seizes up, small sounds falling out of her mouth.

Once Rio comes down from her high, she gets off you, smirking at the glistening wetness on your stomach. You gape down at them as she joins Agatha to watch her fuck you. 

And then your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back in your head when Rio pushes a finger into you too. 

Fuck. 

You have both of them inside you. 

They move in sync, dragging their fingers out and thrusting back into you at the same time, and you groan loudly. 

“How does it feel, angel?” Agatha says, voice thick and low. 

“Feels so good,” you babble, sweat breaking out on your forehead as you raise your hips to meet them. 

“Does our little slut need to cum over both our fingers?” Rio taunts. 

Your head falls to the side, blissed out with the feeling of them both curling and pressing on that spot inside you that you can rarely get to on your own. Your stomach is almost cramping and your arms are aching from pulling so hard on the cuffs. “Yes, please, fuck, wanna cum, so close.” 

And then they pull out of you at the same time like they planned it and you clench needily around nothing, your hips still undulating. 

“Wait, what, why?” You wail and they start laughing at you. “No, no, come on, please.” You pull at your restraints like that will do anything and Agatha harshly slaps the inside of your thigh where she bit you earlier, and it makes you jump. 

“Stop being a greedy little slut,” she scolds. Rio walks over and unlocks the handcuffs from you so you can sit up. “You already came twice. Maybe you’ll think twice about using our house for an orgy next time.” 

“It wasn’t an orgy!” You protest and Rio rolls her eyes and grabs your jaw roughly. 

“We don’t care if it was your fucking church group,” she snarls. “You made a mess and hopefully you’ve learned your lesson.” 

You slouch, still feeling desperate. You can still feel both their hands in you, twisting and fucking you so well, and you don’t think you’re bound to forget that anytime soon. 

“Well, angel, did you learn your lesson?” Agatha presses and you petulantly nod. 

Not exactly beating their young and immature allegations anytime soon. Who cares though. 

“You better get home before your mom starts to worry and thinks we’re torturing you,” Rio says, playful glint in her eye.

“Cause that would be so far from the truth,” you mutter and Agatha swats your leg again. 

“Get out of here,” she says. “Maybe next time we go out of town, we can see if you were actually paying attention.” 

All you know is that next time they leave, you’re going to throw an even bigger party. 

[verstappensrealwife]

So not cool - Lando Norris x Reader

[lando norris masterlist  / f1 masterlist]

ʚɞ in which... lando tries to seem cooler to the girl he just met... badly. ʚɞ fluff, angst  ⋆⭒˚.⋆ 1000 words ʚɞ warnings: drinking, tiny mention of sex

-୨♡୧-

The first time you met Lando, the sky was a heavy shade of grey, with a biting chill in the air that made it feel later than it was. The overcast clouds loomed low, casting an early darkness over the street as you made your way into a small coffee shop. Just as you reached for the door, someone else was coming out, and you collided head-on.

"I—oh—sorry," you both stammered at the same time, awkwardly stepping left, then right, trying to dodge each other. After a clumsy shuffle, Lando finally stepped aside, letting you pass with an apologetic smile.

"Thanks," you muttered, squeezing through the narrow space between him and the door. You couldn’t help but notice the way he unabashedly glanced you over as you moved past him, his eyes lingering a beat too long.

As you walked inside, he hesitated at the doorway, replaying the words of his friends in his mind—how they constantly teased him about meeting women on dating apps like Raya or Tinder. He sighed, feeling a sudden urge to break that cycle.

"Hey—wait!" he called out, letting go of the door and quickly stepping back into the café after you. You turned around, surprised. "Sorry if this is, uh, too forward," he began, slightly out of breath, "but... can I get your number?"

Normally, your answer would’ve been a quick "no." But his boyish charm, combined with the memory of your friends’ recent teasing about how "painfully single" you were, gave you pause. He wasn’t bad looking either. You found yourself nodding. "Sure."

He blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting you to agree, but quickly fumbled for his phone. Handing it to you, he watched as you typed in your number, saving it under your name with a small coffee cup emoji. You smiled as you handed it back, and he flashed a relieved grin.

"Thanks!" he said, almost sounding a little too eager. "I'll text you," he promised, before excusing himself and heading out, leaving you standing there, wondering if you'd just made the right decision—or an interesting mistake.

And he did text you! Not even 30 minutes later…

It was simple. Plain. Almost a little boring…. “Hello.” 

Very formal…

You shrug it off, typing back “Hiii”

-

After a week of texting back and forth, filled with playful banter and a surprising amount of chemistry, Lando finally asked you out. He suggested a fancy restaurant downtown, but made it clear he couldn’t do the weekend because of “work.” The vagueness of his excuse gnawed at you a little, but you brushed it off, agreeing to meet him on a weekday evening.

When the night arrived, you showed up at the restaurant dressed in one of your favorite outfits, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves. The place was elegant—vines curled along the walls, the lighting was soft and low, casting a warm glow over the intimate space. You were seated by a window, the perfect spot to watch the city outside as you waited. Checking your phone, you noticed you were ten minutes early. No big deal, right? He’s probably just running a bit late.

… Now it's 6:00 p.m. on the dot. Any minute now, you think, tapping your fingers lightly on the table.

… 6:15 rolls around. Maybe he’s stuck in traffic, you reason, trying to push away the creeping doubt. You decide to order a glass of wine, glancing at the entrance every few seconds.

… 6:30. That sinking feeling starts to settle in your chest. Maybe I’m stupid for even coming, you think, swirling the wine in your glass, staring at the door like it might open any second. But it doesn’t.

… 6:40. You’ve had enough. You flag down the waiter, pay for your single glass of wine, and gather your things, your heart heavy with disappointment.

Shrugging on your coat, you step out into the cold evening, the once-anticipated night crumbling into frustration. The sky is dark, the clouds heavy and brooding, as if reflecting your mood. Then, as if to make things worse, the heavens open, unleashing a torrent of rain. You huff in annoyance, pulling your coat tighter around you as the rain soaks through the fabric.

With your head down, you walk the short distance home, the city lights blurring through the downpour. The night feels darker than it should, and by the time you reach your door, drenched and exhausted, you can’t help but wonder how you ever let yourself get caught up in the idea of this date in the first place.

It’s 19:10 when you get a text

He was already there when you arrived, waiting. You had taken your time on purpose, dragging out your arrival as a small act of petty revenge. When you finally showed up, he seemed almost jumpy, as if someone had slapped him across the face. His expression was a mess of nerves and tension—until his eyes found you. Instantly, the worry melted away, and relief washed over his features.

"Thank god—hi—I’m so, so sorry," he stammered, words tumbling out in a frantic stream. He couldn’t stop apologizing, his voice hurried and almost desperate. You just stood there, silently watching him flounder through his rambling until he finally slowed, realizing you hadn't said a word.

"Are you done?" you asked, your voice cutting through the air like a sharp knife. He nodded, speechless, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Good."

An awkward pause hung between you two before he spoke up again. "We can still get food... I’m sure there’s a good takeout place nearby," he suggested, his voice unsure.

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head slightly. "You’re not from around here?" you asked, genuinely puzzled.

"I... travel a lot for work," he replied, hesitating like he wasn’t quite sure how much to reveal.

You couldn’t help but laugh. "Like a pilot?"

He hesitated again, his lips twitching into a half-smile. "You could call it that..."

Shaking your head with a soft chuckle, you turned on your heel. "Well, I know a good spot." Without waiting for a response, you began walking away. It took him a second to process what had just happened, and then he scrambled to catch up with you, hurrying to fall into step by your side.

You take him to the takeout just by your house, “I’ll pay,” you say simply, taking your card out but he literally snatches it from your hands and puts it back in your pocket. 

“I stood you up- kind of- im paying.” he says, “They dont have seats in here…” He says quietly, wondering where exactly theyre going to sit.

“Oh, thats fine my house is only close, we can go back to mine.”

Now in Lando’s head, from the many dates he’s been on, he prays that means sex. 

With you though, he prays that means you forgiven him.

------

<3

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! Congrats on 7K, and happy late birthday!

I would love to req an apple pie with Spencer (the way you write him is soooOOO cute) and ²⁸⁾ dark lipstick smeared on a cheek, possibly also along with ¹⁴⁾ laddered tights if it makes sense to you, but just the first one is ofc totally cool <3

Thank you for all the fics, the way you write is so so gorgeous and gives me a lot of comfort

Thank you angel!! I'm glad to have you here :)

cw: mention (implied mention?) of alcohol

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 578 words

Spencer finds you on the floor below his. You’re standing dejectedly outside a closed door with your arms folded across your chest. 

“Hi,” he says. 

You turn, your mouth falling open in surprise and glee. “Spence!” You start walking to meet him. “I was just talking to you on the phone!” 

“I know you were.” He accepts the hug you offer him. You smell like the lotion you use before going out, and it overpowers the smell of bar. “You were upset I wasn’t coming to the door.” 

“Yeah, because you weren’t.” You seem to remember your upset now, pulling away so you can frown at him. 

Spencer tucks away his smile. “I don’t live here, honey. I’m one floor up.” 

Your gaze moves away from his face, your brows furrowing. “Oh.” 

“But I can take you back there now,” he offers. 

Any trace of a frown vanishes. You’re simpering up at him. “Spencer Reid,” you say in a voice like honey, “you wanna take me back to your place?” 

“I—uh, isn’t that why you came here?” 

“No, it is.” You bite your lip, trying and failing to tamp down your grin. “It just sounds extra fun when you say it.” 

“If you say so.” Spencer laughs, and it comes out sounding more awkward than he would’ve liked. 

Your smile softens. You put your hand in his, letting him lead you back to the elevator. Your touch feels warm and sure. 

“Did you have a good time out?” he asks, pressing the button for his floor with a knuckle and then using his thumb to wipe at a bit of lipstick that’s smeared onto your cheek. Clearly at some point during your night out you’d forgotten you were wearing makeup. There’s also a long tear stretching up from the knee of your tights. 

“Yeah,” you reply, your cheek dimpling under his touch. Spencer lowers his hand, and you watch it go. “I missed you, though.” 

“I’m glad you came over. Did someone give you a ride here?” 

“No, I walked.” You’re still watching his hand. Spencer thinks about putting it back on your face, even though he has no excuse to anymore. Maybe you need two points of contact. 

“I would have come and gotten you,” he says. 

“I like walking. The air felt nice. It’s getting cooler out at night.” 

“Yeah, it is nice.” You’re close enough that he can reach down and lightly graze your laddered tights with his fingers. It’s a chaste tough, just above your knee, but still you shiver as if the chill outside has followed you in. 

The elevator dings. 

“Thanks for letting me stay,” you say as he lets you into his apartment. He didn’t lock the door for the short trip downstairs, though he knows several members of his team would have something to say about it if they knew. “Maybe tomorrow we can go for coffee or something. Let me get you a hot drink to celebrate the cool weather, and to say thank you.” 

“You can stay here anytime,” Spencer says, just to know that you’ve heard him say it. It’s not the first time he has. He watches you go straight for the bedroom, for the drawer in his closet where your pajamas are kept. “But coffee would be good, yeah, if—if you still want to tomorrow.” 

You laugh, turning to look at him over your shoulder. “Of course I’ll still want to. I always want to.”