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reidbae · 7 months

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DAY 12: In For It — glove kink w/ semi-dom!spencer reid

KINKTOBER 2023: masterlist

summary: When an unexpected coworker causes you to develop a kink for gloves, you find yourself needing to take care of your dying urge as soon as possible. What you don't know, is that the same coworker finding you in the act will prove to be more pleasurable than you realize.

pairing: semi-dom!spencer reid x sub!fem!reader

warnings/mentions: mentions of blood/crime scene, implied age gap, use of y/n and sweet girl, obv glove kink and mention of latex, no lube is used which is prob unrealistic but ignore it, fingering, choking, vaginal sex, breeding kink, unprotected piv sex (no, no, and no), fondling and ass grabbing, lmk if i missed anything!

wc: 3.2k

a/n: sooo this was supposed to be semi-dom spencer but the sub in me failed miserably :,) and yes this is day 12 on day 15 shush i'm inconsistent

tags: @nalycandy @prettyboydrspencerreid @mega-kittyglitter-1

You were kneeling near the floor of the crime scene that you were at, with Spencer and Derek above you, discussing the scene around you.

You were on a case in a small town in Vermont regarding an unsub who was leaving very bloody scenes behind him. Needless to say, you and the team were getting your hands dirty.

Well, not literally.

Your gloved hand was pointing at what looked like scratch marks on the floor of the living room you were in, which you assumed to be signs of a struggle. You voiced this to the two men.

Derek, who was hovering over you, nodded his head in agreement with your idea. "Yeah, looks like it. This victim must've really given the unsub a hard time, then."

"Yeah, and he wasn't happy about that," you said pretty obviously, because it didn't really take a profiler to see that. "Hey, Spence, what do you...

...Think."

You cut yourself off as you looked up at your other coworker, Spencer Reid, who was pulling the same gloves you had on onto his own veiny hands. It took all of a few seconds for him to turn to you, raising an eyebrow at you.

Spencer was older than you, and you had always found him attractive. Who couldn't, really? Tall, handsome, brunette FBI profiler, and a nice personality to add to it.

He was flawless.

But you had never crossed that humongous line between being friends and being more. While it was nice to think about, you didn't think he could see you in that way, and you preferred to remain friends anyway for the sake of your relationship.

Which is what made the blood that rushed to your cheeks, and the feeling that ran down to your cunt, all the more confusing.

"What were you saying, Y/N?" asked Spencer as he tilted his head, looking down at you.

It didn't help that from where you were looking, you were almost at eye level with his belt.

Fuck.

"Oh, um, I was just wondering what you...Think? A- About the case? I mean, like, do you think there was a struggle?" you could barely stutter out, shaking your head at yourself. Spencer kneeled down next to you, examining the same marks you'd been looking at with his hands.

You watched as his gloves hands traced circles over the hard wood floor, then moved to nearby blood splotches on the ground.

You had never wanted so badly to be an inanimate object.

Spencer gave you a brief synopsis of what he believed. From what you could gather, he agreed with you and Derek, but you were struggling to listen to him as your eyes remained where they were.

You weren't sure how or when this newfound thing for gloves had developed, but it was driving you crazy. You had to clear your throat to snap yourself back into reality, getting up from the ground.

"We should get back to the station. I want to see if they got anything out of the fingerprint we found," said Derek, to which Spencer nodded in agreement.

When you didn't answer, eyes too fixated on Spencer's hands as the gloves came off of them, the genius spoke up. "Hey, Y/N, are you okay?" he asked in a worried voice.

The sound of your name on his lips tugged you back down to earth, and you looked up. "Huh? Wha—Yeah, I'm good. Let's go," you said nervously.

Spencer, still concerned, put a hand on the small of your back as you all walked out of the house you were in. Spencer had always been very protective of you, and you weren't quite sure why, but you liked to assume that it was because he was older than you, and felt the need to do so.

What you did know, though, was that it was not helping at all.

—

You all but leaped out of the car when the three of you got back to the police station, muttering some nonsense about paperwork and overtime as an excuse to Spencer and Derek.

When you finally got to the bathroom that you'd been longing to go to since earlier, you closed the door quickly behind you and gave a long, slow sigh.

Because the town you were in was so small, the station wasn't really the most up to date. The bathroom was tiny, leaving little to no space to walk around. Plus, it was unisex, and there was only one of them. It was probably hell on earth for the police officers who worked here on a daily basis.

But that was the least of your worries.

You leaned your hands on the sink of the bathroom and tried to slow yourself down, trying so hard to ignore the growing wetness between your legs as you closed your eyes.

And all for what? Spencer Reid's gloves? The one you'd seen him touch blood with so many times? The one you’d seen him touch blood with today?

Really?

But, God, you just couldn't deny it.

A flushed, rosy face looked back at you in the mirror, with you looking as if you had just seen a ghost. Your chest was heaving up and down at a rapid pace, your hair messy over your forehead.

There was only so much of this you could take.

It was a dumb idea. A terrible, terrible idea. But you figured, if you worked this sudden want for your coworker out now, you wouldn't have to stare it in the face ever again.

You shook your head for what you were about to do, but took a seat on the low counter, your back pressing onto the mirror behind you. Slowly, you undid your own belt, then yanked your work slacks down and out of the way.

You had to take a few seconds to really think about this before you went through with it. Could you really do this in a police station, the one coworker you'd always seen as no more than a friend on your mind?

Fuck.

Yeah, you could.

You closed your eyes and followed through, moving your hand down to your clit and rubbing yourself in slow circles at first. You began to think about Spencer and the way his blue gloves had fit so nicely on his hands earlier. God, it felt ridiculous just thinking about it.

But it was true.

A knock sounded on the door when you were just about to stick a finger inside of yourself, but the sound was so muffled, you couldn't quite process that you were being called.

"Y/N? Y/N, are you okay?"

You couldn't hear a thing over the sound of your own whines, way too far gone now to think about much else.

"I'm coming in there."

...

Now, you heard it.

You were too late in jolting your hand away from your body before Spencer's tall figure stood in the doorway, a concerned look over his face, that soon turned to one of surprise.

The view he was met with was one of your hand quickly moving away from your cunt, your undone belt and open slacks enough for anyone, let alone a genius, to figure out what the hell you'd just been doing.

While he hadn't gotten you in the act, the scene that was laid out in front of him was very much enough.

The door was already closed for the most part when Spencer walked in, and he shut it all the way so no one could see the two of you. His cheeks were red as his eyes roamed over your body, the man at a clear loss for words.

"Spencer, I—" you said with a face as hot as his, your eyes wide with fear. "I'm sorry—I was just—It's not what it looks like," you said dumbly, shaking your head at yourself.

"A- Are you sure, Y/N? Because, from where I am, what you were just doing is quite obvious," Spencer told you, crossing his arms as he did, like he was reprimanding a little kid. You sighed.

"I just needed to—Work it out before we got started with the case again. I'm sorry. I- I know it's unprofessional, and—" you began.

But he cut you off.

"It's fine, Y/N. You have needs," Spencer shrugged, like this was something people saw on a daily basis. "I was just a little, um—Surprised."

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding and nodded, the heat never leaving your face. Spencer took a step closer to you, looking at you curiously.

"I have to ask, though," Spencer chuckled, looking you up and down. You nearly missed it when he did, too bewildered by the fact that he could laugh at what was happening. "Why the sudden urge?"

You tilted your head, looking away from him and then back again, unsure of what to say. When you didn't answer, Spencer went on.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I'm just curious," Spencer said.

You took a very long pause before opening your mouth to speak again, cursing yourself for the words that were about to leave it. "Uh, well—I just—It's kind of dumb, and it's going to sound really weird, b- but, um," you were stuttering as you played with your hair, sighing. "Yourgloves."

Your words came out so jumbled that Spencer raised an eyebrow at you, giving you a confused look. You weren't sure if he hadn't heard you, or if he had, and he was just weirded out. "What did you say?" Spencer asked.

Turns out, it was the former.

"Y- Your gloves," you told him more clearly, looking away from him. "I don't know. I saw you with them earlier at the crime scene, and—Well, I know we're just friends and stuff but—God, I just don't know," you said in annoyance of yourself. Even you had no idea where this sudden need was really coming from.

"I don't know," you said again. "I just like the way they look on your hands, okay?"

Spencer took a second to think and consider your words. Then, instead of walking out of the room, or giving you a look, or calling you a mean name, Spencer just laughed again. He laughed. At you.

He seriously found this funny?

Spencer reached into the pocket of his work slacks, and pulled out the very thing that had caused you to be so worked up in the first place. The pair of blue gloves that he now had in his hand couldn't be the same pair he had used earlier, because these ones weren't covered in blood.

"These, Y/N? This is what's got you so worked up?" Spencer asked in a nearly teasing voice, smirking at you as he walked even closer to you. You furrowed your brow.

"Maybe," you said, a bratty tone behind your voice. You refused to look at him, turning your face away from him. But out of the corner of your eye, you could see Spencer putting the gloves onto his hands.

You knew you were in for it now.

Spencer tilted your chin up to meet his eyes, bottom lip in his teeth as his eyes moved down to your lips. "Most kinks are easy to develop, in case you didn't know. They usually develop when a specific stimulus is paired with sexual notions or behavior."

"Meaning, for one, that you don't need to be so shy about this. And, two, I don't have to understand it fully to please you. So," he said in a low voice, leaning in, so that your faces were mere inches away from each other. "Tell me where you want my hands, Y/N."

You were way too dumbfounded to process all of what he was saying to you. Your breath was heavy, and before you even knew it, you moved one of his gloved hands to your neck, and the other to the hem of your slacks.

Spencer nodded, and, without even a word more, pressed his lips to yours. Before touching you, he grabbed you by the ass and pulled him in closer to you, so that he was standing in the middle of your legs.

Your tongues were all over each other in your kiss as Spencer began squeezing your neck, clearly attempting to gauge how hard you wanted him to go. His gentle hold was cute: But you needed more.

You pulled away from him for just a second to whisper, "Harder. Please," in the neediest voice you had ever put on. Spencer chuckled at you again, obliging as soon as you had asked, and roughened his hold on your neck.

Now, you were happy.

If it weren't for the fact that you were already soaking wet, the latex of the glove may not have felt good, or even let Spencer's finger slip past your throbbing cunt at all. But you were happily surprised to find that his finger went inside of you with ease, causing you to moan out.

"Shhh, sweet girl, none of that," said Spencer in a teasing tone of voice, moving his hand from your neck to cover your mouth. "We wouldn't want anyone else to hear us, would we?" he asked.

You shook your head, cheeks flushed with heat, and that was enough for Spencer. His gloved hand closed around your neck again while he pumped his finger in and out of you at a quick pace.

While having a glove kink was more like a fantasy before all of this, you couldn't believe how good it really made you feel. The rough latex on your cunt provided you with a sort of friction that you had never been able to get when touching yourself in the past, and it was beyond what you were looking for.

"Is this what you wanted?" Spencer asked in a caring voice, bringing his hand to cup your cheek as he fingered you all at once. "Or is there something else I can do for you?"

"A- Ah, Spencer," you moaned out, feeling dizzy with bliss as you answered him. "Please, I just—I think I'm going to need a little more than your fingers," you whined.

Spencer didn't waste a second more and picked you up, holding you gently in his arms. You wrapped your legs around his torso for a beat, and quickly missed the feeling as soon as he put you down to your feet.

Spencer softly pushed your head down and bent you over the bathroom counter, so that you were looking directly at yourself in the mirror. You could hear the sound of Spencer's belt unbuckling from behind, and watched through the mirror as he allowed it to clatter to the ground.

"Spencer—" you said in surprise, mostly of how willing he seemed to do all of this for you.

Maybe you hadn't been the only one keeping your feelings pent up after all.

"What is it, Y/N?" Spencer asked. You were about to answer, when he then took his throbbing cock out from his boxers, giving you a front row view of how hard he was. You shook your head, mumbling to him to forget it.

Spencer pumped himself up and down a few times, and the view was goddamn mesmerizing as he groaned behind you, releasing drops of pre-cum onto your ass. You watched in anticipation, eyes looking at him with a hungry desire to feel him inside of you.

Spencer guided his tip to your aching cunt, then slowly pushed himself inside of you. Already knowing what your response to this would be, he covered your mouth, quickly stopping a moan from leaving your lips.

His other hand gripped your ass again as he moved into you at a pace that was somehow soft and rough at the same time. And then, when he was sure you would keep yourself quiet, he moved his hand back to your throat again.

"Does that feel good, sweet girl?" Spencer cooed, brushing your hair out of your face. You nodded in a little bit of embarrassment at the manner in which this scenario was unfolding.

"Y- Yes. You feel so good, Spencer. You're...So big," you admitted to him, shutting your eyes closed. Spencer's smirking reflection looked back at yours.

"I'm glad you think so," Spencer chuckled, hardening his grip on your bottom as he moved into you, now going at a slower pace. You whimpered at the sudden change of speed, causing Spencer to say, "What, Y/N? What is it?"

"I...Can you go faster? Please?" you croaked.

Spencer pressed a few kisses to the back of your neck and nodded, smirking. "As you wish," he obliged, quickening his pace once more.

"Look at you, sweet girl. All fucked out for me," Spencer whispered, moving you by your hair, so you could gaze at yourself in the mirror. "I'm going to have your legs shaking by the time I'm done with you," he rasped.

Like that wasn't already true.

Spencer pulled you towards him so that your back was flush against his front, and he took each of your tits into his gloved hands as he continued to fuck you. His thumbs ran circles over your hardened nipples as he fondled you, causing a series of broken, whiny moans to leave your lips.

At this point, neither of you gave much of a damn about who heard you.

Spencer could feel your cunt tensing around him, and he knew then and there that you were close. One of his hands roamed down your body, over your chest and stomach, before finding your aching clit and rubbing it the same way he had your nipples.

Once again, that feeling of the latex drove you wild. You felt your climax bubbling up inside of you, threatening to spill over at any given second. "Spencer, please, fuck, I'm so close, I'm so close," you muttered over and over again, biting down on your lip.

"I know, sweet girl, I know," Spencer cooed, pressing rough kisses to your neck. "Are you going to let me fill you up, Y/N?" Spencer asked, looking into your eyes now.

How could you do anything but nod?

"Y- Yes, Spencer. Please do. I want to feel all of you," you begged him.

"You will," he assured you, running his fingers through your hair. "I'm going to fill you up so good," he said. He then looked at you through the mirror, so he could watch you come undone. He finally moaned, "Come on, sweet girl. Come for me."

You didn't need much more than that.

You let yourself go, forced to look at Spencer through the mirror as he held your face in place. Your names left each other's mouths, each in a moan, causing Spencer to cover your mouth as you cried out in pleasure.

Spencer pressed butterfly kisses to your neck as you came down from your high, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you came back down to earth. Holding you like you were the most fragile thing on the earth, he then kissed you on the mouth, soft and slowly so.

Spencer chuckled, and you turned your head to look at him, a small smile on your lips. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," the genius laughed, nuzzling his nose with yours. "Just thinking..."

"...Maybe I should wear those gloves more often."

—

reblogs are very much appreciated <3

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#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fic #spencer reid imagine #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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dearly-somber · 4 months

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Because It’s Soft | j.jk

-> pairing. wolf shifter!jungkook x human! reader (f)

-> genre. slow burn, eventual romance, (domestic) fluff, found family, humor, (mutual? 👀) pining, f2l (friends-to-lovers), eventual smut, high school!au

-> rating. 13+

-> w/c. 1367

-> a/n. This is one of my favorite installments ngl

-> warnings. None!

-> collection. mini-series

-> started. Oct. 23rd, 2022 @ 21:45

-> fin. Sun., Feb. 26th, 2023 @ 18:08

-> edited. Tues., Nov. 14th, 2023 @ 12:33

-> divider credit. @mmadeinheavenn

“Have I ever told you how much I love your hair at this length?”

Jungkook hisses under his breath, narrowly avoiding death from a flank-attack and managing to get cover to recoup before diving back into the match. “No?”

“Really?” Y/N muses in a shocked voice behind him, lightly touching his shoulders. Jungkook bites his lip to concentrate on what’s happening in game, the hair on the back of his neck tingling.

Y/N was dropped off here for the day because her parents had to go out of town for some or other social gathering. Jungkook remembers waiting for her by the front door, respectfully bowing his head when her father gave him a curt nod.

He remembers how his stomach fluttered when she turned to him with the biggest grin after hugging her mother goodbye, half-jogging toward him before throwing her arms around his neck in a tight, excited hug.

He remembers the way he patted her back and smiled sheepishly at her parents from over her shoulder, hoping they were too far away to notice the blush on his cheeks.

“Yeah. I think you might’ve commented on how long it’s gotten since summer started, but otherwise you haven’t said much.” Jungkook groans and throws his head back between your knees, a frustrated sigh leaving his lips. That’s his sixth loss in a row.

Y/N gives him a pitying tut, using her hand on the back of his neck to gently lift his head, completely oblivious to the intense inner-rumblings of Jungkook’s wolf. She bring her hands up into his hair, dragging her fingers through the silky strands…gently tugging knots loose and running her nails over his scalp.

Jungkook’s shoulders relax and he closes his eyes with a breathy little sigh, his controller going slack in his lap.

Y/N giggles knowingly. “I really do love your hair at this length, you know. It’s nice when it’s long.”

“Mmm…” Jungkook hums distractedly, his eyebrows scrunching together at just how nice it feels to have her hands in his hair. “Why’s it…nice?”

He thinks she shrugs. “Can play with it better when it’s long.”

A smirk pulls the corners of his lips up. “Head out your ass, Kook.”

Jungkook can’t help but laugh. “Sorry. I’ll keep my hair at this length forever if you like playing with it, though. S’really nice,” he mumbles, leaning back into the couch and sighing contentedly.

She continues her ministrations with a quiet hum. “Can I tie it up for you later? Wanna see if I can get it into a ponytail.”

“It’s not that long,” Jungkook pouts, eyes still closed.

“Probably not, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

Jungkook hums in agreement, letting her run her fingers through his hair in relative silence. He doesn’t even notice when he lets go of the controller to instead loop his arms through her legs, pulling his arms through until his hands are resting comfortably on her knees.

“Who’s cooking tonight?” Y/N asks curiously, as if she’s only just remembered that Jungkook’s house is never this quiet.

“Dunno. Jiminie hyung said they were going out for drinks to celebrate Yoongi’s promotion, so most of them are out.”

“You mean we’re alone?”

“No?” Jungkook says carefully. “The noonas are having a bonfire out back. Why? Are you not comfortable being alone with me?” The thought makes him deflate.

She gives his hair a reprimanding tug and Jungkook has to bite his tongue to stop himself from gasping.

She says something, but Jungkook’s too focused on controlling the rapid beating of his heart and excited prancing of his wolf to hear.

“Jungkook!”

He yelps and rubs the back of his head, flipping around to glare at Y/N, betrayed. “What was that for?!”

“For not listening to me,” she snaps. Jungkook humphs and pouts, smiling satisfied when she rolls her eyes with a sigh and apologizes under her breath. “Sorry for smacking you.”

He doubts he’ll ever get tired of the way she lowers her voice when speaking to him so sincerely.

“Sorry for not listening,” he concedes. “What were you saying?”

“Can you come with me to ask Lisa and them about food?” She reaches forward to fix his glasses and mindlessly brushes a strand of hair behind his ear.

He hopes she doesn’t notice the stars in his eyes. “Sure.”

The two of them get up and Jungkook follows closely behind Y/N as they make their way to the back yard. He closes the sliding door behind him as Y/N walks ahead, joining her with a small smile.

“‘Sup.” Jennie bro-nods at him from where she’s sitting next to Rosé.

“Hi, noona.” Jungkook smiles. “You guys having fun?” He stands closer to Y/N when he notices her shiver.

“I think we should be asking you that,” Rosé laughs, lifting her head to grin at him devilishly as she wiggles her eyebrows.

Jungkook resists the urge to flip her the bird, settling for a roll of his eyes. When he looks back at Y/N, she’s watching them butcher with a faraway smile, so he nudges her back to attention.

She clears her throat. “Jungkook and I were wondering about food. Is someone cooking?” she asks, putting her hands in her pockets and leaning into Jungkook’s arm to fight off the cold.

Lisa scoffs with a dramatic shake of her head, stoking the fire with a black-burnt stick. “You brats. Always waiting for someone to cook for you.” She shakes her head in mock-disappointment.

Y/N smiles sheepishly and Jungkook glares pointedly at his sister. “Really, Li?”

“What!” She widens her eyes at him. “It’s not like I’m lying!”

Jisoo sighs, muttering something under her breath. “Why don’t you two boil us some ramen, then? The rest of the guys aren’t going to be back until much later, so just enough for us should be fine.”

Y/N nods eagerly. “Will do. Thanks, unnie. We’ll bring it out when it’s ready.”

“Thanks babe.” Jennie blows Y/N a kiss—Jungkook resists his wolf’s urge to growl at her.

“C’mon, Koo. Let’s go.” Y/N tugs on his sleeve until they’re walking side-by-side, sliding the door open and waiting for Jungkook to close it again before skipping to the kitchen.

He grabs the television remote to play some music, joining Y/N in the kitchen like it’s second nature. Which he supposes it is.

He grabs a large pot from the cupboard as Y/N turns the stove on. Fills the pot with water while she grabs the ramen packets. Sets out seven pairs of chopsticks as she puts the sauce in.

She uses a pair of chopsticks to stir everything in the pot, and Jungkook goes back to the living room to change the song.

When he comes back, she’s watching him; leaning against the counter with a small smile. He smiles back and walks straight into her arms, wrapping his arms around her back and nuzzling into the crook of her neck.

Y/N giggles, one hand on his side and the other in his hair. Jungkook will be eternally grateful for how her attitude towards affection changed after those first few months of their friendship. She had been so touch-averse, he almost cried when she kept rejecting his attempts at physical contact.

He doesn’t know when it changed, but he’s glad it did.

Jungkook breathes in her scent, rumbling deep in his chest. God, she smells so nice. So so nice. He’s convinced it’s the best smell on earth.

“Because it’s soft.”

“Hm?” Jungkook makes a confused noise, stomach fluttering at her shy giggle right by his ear.

“Your hair, I mean. I think I like it because it’s so soft.”

Jungkook grins into her neck with a small shake of his head. “Thanks, Y/N.”

She hums, scratching at his scalp until the water’s fully boiled and the smell of ramen drives her to let him go.

Jungkook watches her cook with a lovestruck smile on his face.

He can’t wait for the day that this is his norm.

The day they’re finally together the way he so wishes they could be…

Because it’s soft.

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tailschannel · 6 months

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HOLLYWOOD ACTORS AND STUDIOS ANNOUNCE TENTATIVE AGREEMENT, ENDING HISTORIC STRIKE

A tentative agreement has been officially reached between Hollywood's actors' union and studios, ending the historic labour disruption.

SAG-AFTRA's tentative deal with the AMPTP secured "above-pattern" minimum compensation increases, provisions for consent and compensation to protect members from artificial intelligence, and streaming participation bonuses.

Dear SAG-AFTRA Members: We are thrilled and proud to tell you that today your TV/Theatrical Negotiating Committee voted unanimously to approve a tentative agreement with the AMPTP. As of 12:01 a.m. PT on Nov. 9, our strike is officially suspended and all picket locations are closed. We will be in touch in the coming days with information about celebration gatherings around the country. In a contract valued at over one billion dollars, we have achieved a deal of extraordinary scope that includes "above-pattern" minimum compensation increases, unprecedented provisions for consent and compensation that will protect members from the threat of AI, and for the first time establishes a streaming participation bonus. Our Pension & Health caps have been substantially raised, which will bring much needed value to our plans. In addition, the deal includes numerous improvements for multiple categories including outsize compensation increases for background performers, and critical contract provisions protecting diverse communities. We have arrived at a contract that will enable SAG-AFTRA members from every category to build sustainable careers. Many thousands of performers now and into the future will benefit from this work. Full details of the agreement will not be provided until the tentative agreement is reviewed by the SAG-AFTRA National Board. We also thank our union siblings — the workers that power this industry — for the sacrifices they have made while supporting our strike and that of the Writers Guild of America. We stand together in solidarity and will be there for you when you need us. Thank you all for your dedication, your commitment and your solidarity throughout this strike. It is because of YOU that these improvements became possible. In solidarity and gratitude, Your TV/Theatrical Negotiating Committee.

The contract, valued at one billion USD, has yet to be ratified, but the union announced that the strike will end this Thursday, 9 November 2023 at midnight PST.

Sonic movie screenwriter Pat Casey acknowledged the announcement late Wednesday night on X, the social media website formerly known as Twitter, and said that he's "excited that everyone in this business, cast, crew, everybody, can finally get back to work doing what we do best - entertaining people!"

No word from Paramount as of yet, or the studio's upcoming production plans for the third Sonic the Hedgehog film, currently scheduled to debut in 2024.

#sonic movie 3 #sonic movie #sonic movie spoilers #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #paramount pictures #sega #shadow the hedgehog #sag aftra #unions #sonic news

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thehusbandoden · 5 months

Note

Last request I'm sending in today! Sorry if it's too much! Again feel free to skip any of these! :) I'd like to see headcannons for first kisses! Can be with anyone! I just want some fluffyness. :>

A/n: I might have gone a little overboard with Shoto's lol but I can't really help it 😅.

I hope you're well! You can talk to me if you ever need to! <33

First Kisses Headcannons (Denki, Kirishima, Shoto, and Shigaraki)

General info:

Genre: fluff, a teeeeeny bit of angst in Shiggy's \\ wc: 1,988 in total \\ posted: 12/5/2023 \\ requested

Warnings!: (Only in Shigaraki's) taking an injury for someone else, Shigaraki dusting someone, death (an enemy). Pls let me know if I miss any! <33

Kaminari Denki: (420 words)

My goodness this boy was so excited.

He had beed crushing on you since he laid eyes on you, and stopped flirting with other girls once he realized that you were his one and only.

Poor baby didn't really know how to court you so he just flirted.. a lot.

You didn't know that he actually liked you, so you teased him a bit by acting clueless or straight up ignoring him.

His pout was just so cute.. you couldn't help it.

After a few weeks of this you noticed that whenever he was around another girl he didn't flirt with her like he used to. He was polite and respectful.

After studying his behaviors you realized that he actually liked you, and you couldn't help but get really flustered.

You were crushing on him as well, and so it worked out pretty well.

You started to casually flirt back, grinning as his eyes light up and his imaginary tail wagged furiously.

After a few months of flirting back and forth Denki gathered up the courage to confess to you.

(Plus he was scared of being beaten to death by Bakugo because he was taking too long lol.)

He asked you out on a small date the following weekend. His heart was pounding against his chest and he was sweating profuesly. Little schocks ran up and down his arms and spine.

When you agreed he almost kissed you right there and then, but he knew that that wouldn't look good, so he controlled himself.

He took you out on a lovely date, and even managed to hold his hand.

While walking he accidently shocked your hand a few times, but they were so small you just smiled at his cuteness.

The two of you went on a few dates after that before finally becoming official. That night, you two were walking back to the dorms when you found yourselves outside in the middle of the cold.

Denki was grinning down at you, and you couldn't control yourself.

You leaned up and kissed him softly, your hands on his shoulders.

The kiss took him by surprise and he didn't react for a few seconds. Once he recovered he quickly kissed you back, accidently shocking your lips with his own.

He immediatly pulled back, apologizing profuesly. You giggled, watching his cuteness for a few minutes before reasuing him that you were okay, and asking him for another kiss.

His face turned red and he eargerly agreed, kissing you much more carefully this time.

Kirishima Eijiro (217 words)

You and Eijiro had decided to wait until marriage for any intimacy.

It was hard, and you almost broke the agreement many times.. but thirteen long months later, and it was finally your wedding day.

It was all perfect, just how you and Eijiro had imagined it.

You shared your vows, Eijiro tearing up as he expressed his deep and unconditional love for you, and you doing the same.

And then came the kiss.. as soon as the officiant said the words Eijiro pulled you into a long awaited kiss.

His lips were on yours as he held you in his arms. The kiss was magical, and well worth the wait.

Though neither of you had any experience, the kiss was perfect. It was filled with your love, devotion, and loyalty to one another.

After a few seemingly endless moments Eijiro pulls away, smiling down at you, tears in his eyes.

The rest of the day was filled with one another, you stayed glued to each other's side and shared many more kisses, unable to resist giving each other pecks as you talk with your close friends and family.

The day was amazing, and very memorable. Through out the years you reunited your first kiss whenever you made up after fighting, had an anniversary, or had something exciting happen in your lives.

Shigaraki Tomura (325 words)

Shigarki has major trust issues, so he wouldn't be intimate with anyone unless he really trusted them..

Shigaraki fell in love with you shortly after you joined the league of villains, but he didn't trust you.

He pushed you away for months, confused and hurt by his feelings.

Eight months later, the league was raiding another villain's hideout, not realizing that they left a few villains as defense.

One of them fired her quirk at Shigarki. You noticed seconds before it happened.

You had just enough time to push Shigaraki out of the way, using your body as a shield.

As he saw a lightning bolt pierce your chest his eyes went wide. He immediately started seeing red as he caught you, glaring up at the villainess that dared touch his y/n.

After checking your pulse, he gently placed you on the floor before sprinting towards the villainess. Unprepared, she hardly had any time to defend herself before he placed a hand on her forearm, watching her decay with a crazed grin on his face.

After she was just a pile of dust he immediately made his way back to you, demanding that Spinner go check the rest of the perimeters for more enemies.

You were in bad condition, and you would probably die in a few hours without medical attention.

Kurogiri teleported both you and Shigarki to a trusted ally, and he patched you up rather quickly.

Shigaraki stayed by your side as you rested, and he was the first thing you saw when you gained consciousness.

Not saying anything, he pressed his lips against yours. They were flaky and obviously weren't taken care of, but you didn't mind as you kissed him back.

After a few moments he pulled back, staring into your e/c eyes.

"You're an idiot." He growled, moving a strand of hair out of your face with three fingers.

"Your idiot." You grin, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Yes.. my idiot." He murmured, blushing slightly.

Todoroki Shoto (1,006 words lol 😅)

You and Shoto have been dating for a few months. Due to both of you being socially awkward, the closest thing you've done is hold hands and hug every once in a while. Both of you are popular pro heroes, and work around seventy hours in a week.

You both have Saturday and Sunday off, so you usually sleep for several hours before going out on dates and just hanging out. When you're really tired or just really missing each other, you'll come over and just straight up cuddle and sleep.

It was a very intimate thing between the two of you, and it was quite rare.

By the sixth month of being together, Shoto's family wanted to meet you.

As soon as Shoto heard he immediately shut it down.

But.. after some convincing from Fuyumi and Rei, he accepted on the condition that you stay next to him the entire time and that either of you have the right to leave whenever you desire.

The dinner was planned on Sunday night, two days later.

Shoto was very stressed, worried that his old man would belittle or judge you.

He was extra clingy, staying up an extra two hours to pick you up from your shift and bring you home. Each time was accompanied with a hug and an 'I love you', which was still new to the two of you.

He couldn't sleep Saturday morning. He was pacing around his apartment the entire time, his eyes heavy with exhaustion.

After a few hours he drove to your place, accidentally waking you up from a nap. He apologized, and almost gave up on his idea.

You reassure him and invited him in, asking him why he was awake.

He told you that he couldn't sleep and that he wanted to cuddle.. you agreed of course, blushing as you felt Shoto hug you against him.

He was asleep within two minutes, causing you to quietly giggle.

When it was time to head over he held your hand tightly as he drove, still anxious. You gently stroke his hand in an effort to calm him, which did work to a certain extent.

He continued to tightly hold your hand as he walked through the door. Fuyumi and Rei were waiting for him, smiling as they started to gush over how attractive you were and taking your hands.

Shoto trailed behind you as they dragged you to the living room, cooing over every little detail about you.

They talked with you for quite a while, putting Shoto at ease. You started to open up, smiling and blushing as they complimented you in every sentence. Rei even mentioned something about having grandchildren..

After about half an hour Natsuo walked in. He blushed when he saw you, causing Shoto's eyes to narrow in jealousy. He kept quiet though, watching you as Natuso introduced himself. You were polite, but didn't react to his obvious attraction which made Shoto smile.

Everyone sat down as Fuyumi started to serve dinner. Shoto stayed close to you as he anxiously waited for Endeavor to show up.

Everyone started eating and chatting with you when Endeavor walked in. His large build caused you to grow nervous as you held Shoto's hand under the table.

His eyes traveled his family until he targeted his cold gaze on you. He stared at you for several seconds before moving to sit down next to Fuyumi. Rei kept her gaze trailed on you and Shoto, not even acknowledging the man.

After several tense and silent minutes Fuyumi spoke.

"Y/n kun this is Enji, or as you know him Endeavor." She smiled nervously, trying to make conversation.

You didn't say anything as he stared at you, studying your every movement.

After a while he let out a huff as he started eating. Both you and Shoto let out a relieved sigh.

It was peaceful for a while as you continued eating. Shoto kept hold of one of your hands, still sticking as close to you as possible.

Dinner was eaten in silence until towards the end, when Endeavor decided to speak.

"So.. Shoto, this is your girlfriend?"

"Yes.. this is y/n. I love her very much, and I don't care what you think about her." His words caused you to blush as you squeezed his hand.

Endeavor scoffed. "I expect that she has an outstanding quirk.. yes?"

Shoto's glare hardened. "It doesn't matter what her quirk is."

Endeavor's eyes narrowed. "So you're saying she doesn't have a good one?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying." Shoto growled, his protectiveness flaring.

The tension grew as Endeavor and Shoto went back and forth on the matter. After a while Endeavor's words turned sour.

"How can I trust your judgement? I kept quiet about her appearance but I will not sit here and ignore her quirk. This is the future of my grandchildren!"

"It is not your place to be concerned about grandchildren. We will have children if we desire, and their quirks won't matter." Shoto growled.

They continued to grow more heated and they started to just straight up throw insults at one another. After a particularly nasty one towards Shoto you stood up, glaring.

"Take that back." You hiss, your e/c eyes hardened in rage.

Endeavor scoffed, and the two of you started arguing. You were growing extremely protective over Shoto, and refused to back down.

Unsure what to do, Shoto stood up as well and dragged you outside. Before you could protest he placed his soft lips on yours, completely occupying your mind.

After a few moments you pull away, smiling. "Shoto.." you murmur, caressing his cheek.

"I don't care about what that d-bag thinks.. I love you and I'm going to spend my life with you." He murmured, placing his own hand on your cheek. "If you'll let me..."

You smiled wider, choosing to answer with another kiss instead of words.

It was inexperienced and kind of awkward, but it was filled with love for one another. And that's all that matters.

~~~~~

Masterlist | Navigation | You can tip me here <3

Denki's Masterlist | Kiri's masterlist | Shigaraki's masterlist | Shoto's masterlist

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated <33

~~~~~

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way -minus reblogging.

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moonchildxoxx · 2 months

Text

A Life once wished for a long forgotten memory

A/N: You are responsible for your own media consumption. MDNI 18+ . the name comes from the idea that Tsu'tey wanted a warriors death so he could join his old love in the after life. but that was no longer a thought in his head because he was happy with his love and baby . also i realized a bit was missing so i added it that why it was edited.

Pairing: Tsu’tey x Fem!Omatikaya! Reader,

Word count: 1.296

Synopsis: tsu'tey survived the war he went on to lead the omatikaya for a decked before the threat of sky people loomed once more. it was decided that he must take a mate to secure the clan's future and ease the people's worries. he never thought he'd be so happy once more

[ Request are open]

Master List

Rules

Edit: 02/29/2023

When the war ended Tsu'tey had thought that was the end of him as well and he was at peace with that idea. But Jake sully refused to accept and do the duty of Olo’eyktan claiming that he would not lose another brother. Once Tsu’tey healed he continued to lead the Omatikaya for a decade before his life changed once more Jake sully had warned the clans that the sky people could very well return. They knew they had 12 years before they returned but if they returned it would be soon. Mo’at had come to Tsu’tey telling him that a time of great sorrow would be upon them soon once more. Once this was discussed with the council it was decided Tsu’tey couldn’t remain unmated the people would feel more assured if the clan had a secured future meaning he’d have to take a mate and have an heir. Mo’at chose (Y/N) who was a young girl, the granddaughter of one of her old friends and also one of her healing students that showed a promising future. She and him had been given a few months to get to know each other and courtship. He never thought he'd find love again, not after what happened with his promised mate.

soon they had become close. She a sweet and gentle girl and he’d later lean she was also one not afraid to put him in his place. Omatikaya had a feast celebrating their Olo’eyktan mating, late into the feast during Tsu’tey lead (Y/N) to the sacred gathering place under the great mother's watch and She swallowed nervously looking around Tsu'teys voice was calm and gentle as he took her hand and walked into the soft glow of the tree "have no fear little one no one will come looking for us until we return to the clan " he said softly stroking her arms gently

"our great mother wants us to be together I promise no harm will come to you as long as I’m here"

~ A few weeks later ~

Tsu'tey returned to their hut after a day of attending to his duties. she was crouching by the fire preparing their evening meal. a smile crossed his face. He crouched next to her she leaned over and kissed him gently

he smiled and returned the kiss then sat down by her by the fire "I have been thinking of something"

" an what would that be ?" She countered back. he sighed looking at her for a moment before speaking "there is something I would like to ask you". “ I'm listening" she hummed

a faint blush appeared on his cheeks as he looked down to his hands for a moment then back to her it was obvious that this was hard for him "I think it’s time we actively tired for a child " She laughed softly

he looked slightly confused by her laughter "I was not joking" he said with a slight frown at her reaction.

She smiled " I may have beat you to this discussion " his eyes widened shocked and then he looked at her stomach "are you saying" he looked excited and slightly nervous "are you indeed with child" She nodded yes " I wanted to make sure before I said anything" he was overcome with joy and excitement he couldn't believe that their child was already inside of her he leaned over and gave her a deep long kiss smiling at her the entire time "we are truly blessed by the great mother I cannot believe this"

~Months later ~

Tsu'tey returned to their hut after being away for the day leading a hunting party she was by the fire weaving a smile crossed his face when he walked in he was exhausted "little one l am home" he said softly when he saw her he walked over to her and leaned down placing many small kisses on her head and and neck "the hunting party was successful"

"That is good to hear" she leaned over and kissed him gently

his breath was heavy and he sighed softly when she kissed him

"I have brought back a good size kill for you and our young one “his hand moved to her stomach he felt a slight swelling that was not there when he had left for the hunting trip he smiled "our child grows strong every day"

~Months later ~

Tsu'tey had just returned from a hunt when one of his fellow warriors had told him that his mate was with the healers this immediately worried his as she was pregnant and quite far along he stormed to the healers quickly and with great concern when he entered he immediately spotted

(Y/N) laying on the bed "how long has she been like this?" he said to a nearby healer "Since last night her water broke a bit ago" answered one of the healers.

The healer next to her moved aside to let him stand next to his mate. he then turned back to his mate placing a hand gently on her cheek watching her as she struggled to keep the pain from taking over (Y/N) looked up at him with relief at seeing her mate

he could tell that she was still afraid but his presence alone had given her much needed strength " I'm scared Tsu'tey he’s to early “ his soft eyes were a stark contrast to the his normal harsh and calloused look . he spoke to her softly and gently his voice soft and low as he helped her breath slowly "our son will be strong I promise you he will but you must be strong too"

he placed a comforting hand on her cheek brushing his thumb against her cheek "do not fear my little one he will come when ready the great mother, she knows the best time for him to be born She nods gently

he continued to gently brush his thumb against her cheek as she laid there waiting for their son to make his grand entrance. She gripped his hand as she got pains "focus on your breathing" he said softly "breathe deep and slowly" he was gently stroking her hair to try and calm her more

She tired calming down "that's good that's good my little one you are strong" he gently brushed her hair away from her face as he looked in her eyes she looked at him as sweat dripped down her face "this is the most pain I have ever felt" she said through gritted teeth.

he nodded "it will be over soon my little one" he said softly stroking her hair "just hold on" she could feel the baby was almost here and her breathing was becoming shallow

as the baby was coming out of her she suddenly screamed loudly and Tsu'tey gripped her hand tightly the baby was coming out now and the pain was only getting worse

"you can do this my little one" he said as he stroked her arms and hair giving her the warmth of his hands and all his love "Push my little one!" he smiled at her as she did her hands gripped tightly around his hand and she took a few deep breaths as she pushed. their baby was born into the world the cries of a new life filling the air the baby was laid on her chest and she and Tsu'tey both looked down with tear filled eyes at the little one they had created together. "you were very brave little one" he said softly placing a soft kiss on her forehead before bending down and kissing the babies head "thank you for giving me this wonderful gift" he kissed her forehead and she could tell that he was very pleased "he's beautiful"

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

#avatar 2009 x reader #avatar 2009 #avatar movie #tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey x y/n #tsu’tey fluff #tsu’tey smut #tsu’tey fanfic #tsu’tey avatar #avatar tsu'tey #tsu’tey imagine #tsu’tey x reader #tsu'tey avatar #tsu’tey x y/n #tsu’tey te rangloa ateyitan #tsu’tey angst

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prettyboychainsaw · 8 months

Text

Gather up variants, cultists, software guys, business majors, and independent journalists alike for (the first?) Outlastober in the year of our lord, the Walrider, 2023.

I tried to get a good variety from all the currently out games. Feel free to write, draw, spatter, or whatever else you can think of for every day of October! Or every other day. Or not at all. I can't control your schedule.

Anywho, tag it with Outlastober2023 and @prettyboychainsaw so I can see it! Good luck! And remember, you're not a fighter.

Plain text under the cut.

1.) My friend, Billy.

2.) Wedding gift / something old, something new

3.) Broken lenses

4.) God?

5.) We want you!

6.) I Deserve to be punished

7.) Jane Doe

8.) St. Sybil

9.) Tongues and teeth

10.) Liver and tongues

11.) Silky

12.) Crown of thorns

13.) Trager Juice

14.) Life support

15.) Trinity

16.) Little pig!

17.) Committed

18.) Gluskin's Hell

19.) Elevator

20.) Beautiful

21.) Vulgar

22.) Frank's Kitchen

23.) Vents and grates

24.) Decontamination

25.) Nachtmahr

26.) Hope

27.) The morgue

28.) Fired

29.) Radio tower

30.) Numb

31.) Kill the snitch!

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theineffablesociety · 24 days

Text

I'd like to plan a Good Omens meetup for Saturday October 19th, 2024. Poll below!

The Ineffable Society Meetup is a thought that's brewed in my brain since June 2023 when a bunch of local GO fans chanced to meet for the first time at the King of Prussia PA screening of series 2 episode 1 and 2.

It is time to stop brewing and let others contribute.

Here's my initial thoughts:

I'm willing to organize but not alone. We'll need to work together.

I live near Philadelphia, PA so this is the area I'm willing to do what needs doing primarily in Eastern PA, Central NJ, surrounding areas therein.

I'd want everyone attending to be 18 or older, please. I encourage those 17 and under to organize something together!

Taking suggestions for type of venues to host, think like a family reunion or larger.

I'm not interested in handling money, so would seek at least 2 people to oversee financials if that comes into play. (Finances might be needed to cover renting a space, any printed materials, little swag gifts.)

As mentioned, Saturday October 19th. Because it's close to the Earth's Birthday. :3

Afternoon through evening could be good. Maybe a 3 hour window on the small end; most of the day on the larger end. Will depend on location and on how many helpers step up.

Good Omens related fun: encouraging cosplay, script book readings, discussions, games, swaps. Maybe screening an episode together (there's copyright law to contend with here though). Depending on how much time we have together and space. Simplest plan would be an informal Good Omens afternoon mixer type.

If fewer than 12 people are interested:

We could just meetup at a restaurant that has a function room! (Not super ideal for allergies, as there's probably nowhere that's good for everyone. But does it in a pinch. And would probably not be a big up-front cost. Often there's a small room fee and then the assumption everyone will eat.)

If more than 12 up to 40 people are interested:

We might consider renting some conference rooms at a small hotel. (That does make it easier for people to find accommodations: already there! At a hotel! Downside is this will require chipping in.)

Any more than 40 people and uhhh... We'll figure it out.

WHAT I NEED TO KNOW FROM YOU

There will be more questions to follow, but most important one is below.

Please answer YES if you are:

A Good Omens fan

18 or older

In the Eastern PA to Central NJ area

Or are otherwise willing, able, and interested to go there

For transparency. A little about me:

I'm North (SeedsOfWinter). They/he.

Over the past two and a half decades, I've organized or been a member of organizations that planned meetups, game nights, reunions, and nerd events for friends and strangers alike.

I've been a Good Omens fan since June 2019. I run @rareomens. I am a mod for @ineffableeraszine and @bildadzine. I was a mod for the Our Side Zines, Pin Me Up 2, and many more. I was a founding admin for the LGBTQIA+ Fans of Good Omens groups.

I've been part of convention presentations for Good Omens at The Ineffable Con (virtual) and DragonCon (in-person, Atlanta GA). I love to organize fan photoshoots and meetups.

I know that any attempt at gathering people requires a team to make it happen; and that there's pitfalls and perils to all of it, especially when you're dealing with a bunch of possible strangers meeting for the first time! But the end result (you all getting a chance to connect together as fans) is feeling pretty worth it.

#good omens #good omens fandom #the ineffable society #ineffable society #the ineffable society meetup #fan meeting #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley

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gatheringfiki · 5 months

Text

The following ficlet was written by @marigoldvance based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, T.

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)

By Any Other Name…

—

Long-haul freight trucking isn’t for everyone. Days, sometimes weeks, away from home; a lot of gas station coffee, leaky motel rooms, and diners with sticky floors and dead-eyed waitresses whose smiles reflect lifetimes of missed opportunities.

Fíli fell into it after uni.

Unlike the majority, he loves his time on the road. Appreciates the peace the job offers. Of course, he misses his loved ones when he’s away for lengths of time, but he’s always been a bit of a hermit. He’s better at listening than engaging, which is perhaps why he considers the radio perfect company.

In particular, a mid-morning radio show that he maybe-sort of-but not really schedules his day around.

“—And that was Last Christmas by Wham!. Sorry to those of you who almost made it this year!” The DJ cackles, not sorry at all. “Better luck next year.”

“You’re a menace.” The cohost snorts before introducing the next song, something from the Top 40 to keep things moving.

Kíli Oaks is an incredible radio personality who makes the time pass quickly. Fíli deeply enjoys listening to Kíli’s show whenever it’s on, be it when he’s hauling freight or at home in his kitchen. And while it could be said that harboring a crush on a celebrity is a waste of energy, Fíli is content to indulge it.

His mother worries his interest in Kíli Oaks is hindering his chance of finding someone, “what with dedicating your attention to a disembodied voice.”

It’s a point of contention between them, but Díssandra Durin is a good mum and does her best to be supportive.

Exhibit A:

“Doesn’t that man on the radio live in Pelargir?” She asked Fíli before he left.

“And?”

She shrugged as if to say not that it matters, but “Aren’t you going to Pelargir?”

“Mum, even if I lived near the radio station, the chances of ever meeting him are slim to none.” Fíli said, trying to keep his tone light despite it being the third time she’d made a remark of that nature.

“You never know.”

“Trust me, ma, I know. It would be weird, wouldn’t it?” Not that Fíli was angling for an answer. Of course it would be weird.

“Or it could be a funny story you tell your kids one day.”

Fíli eyed his mother suspiciously, “Or it could be a traumatic story he tells the police.”

He expected her to drop the issue but, instead, she jutted her chin toward the coffee table and said, “Either way, that’s for you.” and carried on knitting as if she didn’t just blow the top of Fíli’s head off with surprise.

Fíli’s stomach clenches in excitement, glancing at the envelope on the dashboard.

While his mother doesn’t endorse his crush on Kíli, she found out about a Christmas special Kíli and his cohost are putting on to raise money for a Christmas charity. In front of a live audience.

An audience Fíli now has a ticket to be a member of.

He doesn’t know how she did it, considering Kíli has more fans than there were tickets (the show sold out in minutes after the tickets went live), but Fíli’s infinitely grateful.

He listens as Kíli reads a listener’s text aloud, adding an anecdote of his own before both he and his cohost dissolve into fits of breathless, soundless laughter.

“—That’s not what I said!” Kíli wheezes after his cohost accuses him of defiling a snowman.

Their producer urges them along, trying to herd the chaos into something manageable but Kíli and his cohost keep bantering.

“Boys,” The producer says sternly, “The next song, please.”

Fíli imagines Kíli wipes the tears from his eyes and composes himself, “Right, right, right,” It seems that what’s cued to play isn’t what Kíli expects because he barks another laugh, “Nooo!’

His cohost squeezes the title of the next song out between giggles, “Here’s Snowman by Sia.” And off they go again, their laughter cut off as the song starts to play.

Fíli grins like an idiot, as if he’s part of the silliness. The adolescent, world is my oyster, everything is possible part of him would love to exchange funny stories with Kíli, watch him laugh until his eyes are glassy, cheeks ruddy and wet. The realistic, adult part of Fíli understands that such things can only happen by divine intervention. Which, in his experience, doesn’t actually exist.

Thus, he’ll go to the show, have a good laugh, respectably ogle Kíli from afar, and then end his evening reading over a cup of mulled wine.

Brilliant.

***

“He’s so … sad.”

“Are you sure he isn’t too—” Finding the correct words to say ‘serial killer’ without actually saying ‘serial killer’ is difficult. “—antisocial?” Is just as bad, really, but better than ‘maladaptive’ or ‘socially awkward’.

A long, tired groan sounds from between the other two voices. “Don’t either of you have anything else to do?”

“No.” The first two voices say in unison.

Meet Divine Intervention.

Thranduil peers into the Palantír, silvery hair curtaining his expression, though Gandalf guesses it’s one of disdain. Thranduil has a type; usually six-foot-four and Doriathen, with yodeling accents and donning colorful knitwear.

By contrast, Fíli Durin is a combination of broad strokes and blunt shapes, and a penchant for more subdued seasonal layers.

“He isn’t too far away, is he, Gandalf?” Radagast wonders, hovering over Gandalf’s shoulder to watch Fíli’s image in the milky glass, “Will he make it on time?”

“If you two leave me to my work, I can see to it that he does.” Gandalf puts as much emphasis behind his words as he can muster around the bit of his pipe.

Thranduil and Radagast are deliberately trying to sabotage Gandalf’s progress, he’s certain. It isn’t his fault he has the reputation of casting some of the most intricate and everlasting Tapestries—or as Belinda from HR, in an attempt to rebrand the realm into the 21st Age, calls them: Love Stories.

Gandalf puffs his pipe grouchily at the idea.

As long as there have been a moon and stars, there have been Weavers tasked with the choosing and care of the roses from Lorien’s garden. Each rose contains within its petals a communion, some more momentous than others, but all serving a significant purpose in the lives of those selected to sustain them. A Weaver’s sole responsibility is to match a pair worthy of a rose’s influence and have them meet before the final petal falls. If things go well, the rose blooms anew, radiant and golden, until the span of the—Gandalf shudders—Story is complete.

Otherwise…

Well, nothing happens. Some roses aren’t meant to be epic tales worthy of Shakespearean prose, mild in colour and force. Other roses burn too bright and fizzle out before a Weaver can say Tom Bombadil. It depends partially on the rose and partially on the Weaver’s capabilities.

And Gandalf’s capabilities far exceed those of many Weavers, a fact highlighted by the shelves of thriving roses encases in their glass cloches.

He has full confidence that the pair he selected are absolutely perfect for each other.

Fíli may be content in his aloneness, but he is strong and patient and has so much love to give. And Kíli? Kíli is—

***

“You’re being obnoxious, Kee.” Boromir says, slingshotting another rubberband at Kíli’s forehead.

It hits with a dry snap and falls into the mounting pile in Kíli’s lap, leaving behind a blossoming red spot right between his eyebrows.

“Am not!” Kíli wails through a wide smile, gathers all the rubberbands and lobs them in Boromir’s general direction.

He isn’t. He’s being prudent; a word his grandmother would never use to describe him, but there he is, being just that. Someone’s future happiness rests entirely in the palm of his hand and he will not risk ruining it.

“You are.” Boromir insists, ignoring their producer, Merry, as he frantically signals for Kíli to prepare for the interlude. “You’ve got that glassy-eyed look you get after a good shag.”

“I don’t like that you know that about me.”

Boromir bobs his head in consensous, “Nor do I.”

And they’re back on air. Kíli dutifully lists the titles of the songs they just played and introduces the next queue, promises he and Boromir will return for their typical Wednesday slot of Say It or Spray It—a game their old producer concoted to embarrass the shit out of Kíli on his first day hosting the midmorning show.

Needless to say, it had only fueld Kíli’s fire, and look at him now, several years later and a staple at GBC Radio 1.

As soon as their mics are muted again, Kíli whips out his phone, presses his thumb to the print verification button and opens his professional TikTok account.

Boromir rolls his eyes.

Kíli sticks out his tongue.

“See?” Boromir points toward Kíli with his hand, “Obnoxious.”

Kíli scrolls past hundreds of unread DMs to the thread he’s revisited about forty times in the last hour, swipes through the thread until he reaches the picture attached.

It’s of a man, close to Kíli’s age. Kissable lips swept into a gentle smile, square shoulders and a barrel chest accentuated by the thin, visibly loved band t-shirt worn when the picture was taken. A candid shot at what appears to have been a cookout, hinted to by the long twig he’s hold with a marshmallow speared through the tip.

He’s handsome—very handsome—exactly the sort of bloke Kíli topples head-over-heels for.

“Your love life is so tragic that someone’s mum is taking pity on you.” Boromir teases, nudging Kíli’s foot with the tip of his shoe.

Kíli wants to sling a comeback at him, but finds he can hardly disagree. Besides, Kíli wouldn’t mind taking the man’s mum up on the offer.

Tragically, she isn’t offering.

She messaged Kíli hoping to get a ticket to Kíli and Boromir’s live audience Christmas special. When Kíli asked his producer about available tickets, he was stunned to discover they’d sold out faster than a Taylor Swift concert.

“We reserved some for family, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Merry told him.

Kíli replied to the woman, Dís Durin she called herself, with the good news, happy to offer one of his personal tickets to Dís’—very handsome—son, Fíli.

“You’ve got that goofy look on your face again.” Boromir announces. “New update on your boyfriend?”

“Naff off.” Kíli kicks Boromir’s shin under the table. Boromir oufs in surprise, fixes his face into a glare and retaliates by swatting the top of Kíli’s head.

“Don’t start, you two, the song’s almost over.” Merry warns, crossing his arms sternly. He slants his gaze toward Kíli, “But Boromir has a point, Kee, you might want to work on that dopey face you make before you meet him. Bit unattractive.”

“Oi!”

***

Draped across Gandalf’s armchair, where he retreated when he and Radagast were shooed away from the Palantír, Thranduil indicates to Kíli, “I like that one, he has passion.” Then he slides a bored glance back to Fíli, “All that one does is drive around in a big truck.”

“He must have something up his sleeve,” Radagast says in defense of Gandalf as if he’s not there to do it for himself. “The old rascal wouldn’t risk losing.” That is, the bet Gandalf made with Elrond, a Spindler from the third floor who specializes in forks in the road.

A bet made because, to be frank, Weaving loses its charm after a Weaver’s third millennia performing the task. Sometimes, they need incentive, and high-stakes gambling is the motivation Gandalf requires to ensure he doesn’t wilt a rose into lost opportunity.

“Quite right.” Gandalf lifts his chin proudly and reprimands Thranduil, “How dare you question my artistic process.”

Thranduil meets his stare flatly. “So,” He says, his tone suspiciously matter-of-fact, “All he has to do is get to Pelargir by the strike of 6?”

“Yes.” Gandalf says cautiously.

“Very good. And how exactly do you plan to get him there through an avalanche?”

Gandalf whips his head back to the Palantír, alarmed. Although an avalanche is a mighty exaggeration, the scene unfolding in the glass isn’t much better. Wiggling his fingers in a rapid, deliberate pattern, Gandalf hunches over the Palantír with fierce concentration.

Fíli’s truck rumbles merrily along in the cloudy image to the left. In the image to the right is an unholy dumping of snow. Fíli’s still far enough away that Gandalf has time to maneuver a solution, but the window is narrow.

The situation may require—

Thranduil and Radagast watch Gandalf intently, look at each other and then back to Gandalf.

Slowly, his face set in determination, Gandalf raises from the ether a shovel with a wide, metal blade.

—Drastic. Action.

***

The trouble starts just as Fíli leaves Minas Tirith. Snow falls in sheets, thick and sticky, forcing Fíli to slow his speed and call Central.

“I stayed ahead of it for awhile,” Fíli explains of the weather, “But it finally caught up to me.”

Bofur snorts, “Guess that luck of yours is finally running out, ay Durin?”

“Not a chance. Just a little bit of delay. I’ll still make it by this evening.” Fíli reassures, “Just let them know, yeah?”

“I’m on it. Drive safe, lad!”

Fíli smiles, “Cheers.” and disconnects the call.

Unfortunately, Bofur might’ve been right about Fíli’s luck running out.

Things get worse by Aglarshire, a road closure forcing Fíli to take the exit into town for an impromptu break. After eight hours at the wheel, he’s due one anyway, but he’d hoped to get as far as Karaborough before making the stop.

The snow is really coming down now, and the townships between Minas Tirith and Pelargir aren’t equipped to handle removal like the big cities.

Still, Fíli tries to stay positive.

Almari’s café serves the best stew and crusty bread this side of the White Horns. Almari herself is the motherly sort; a short woman of stout figure and a kind face, somehow able to discern what Fíli needs as soon as he steps through the door.

The café is quiet apart from two men arguing about livestock. A traditional, rustic ambiance of dark wood and brass accents, mismatched tables rubbed in places of their stain and chairs that creak when occupied. An impressive oak bar stretches the length of the wall across from the entrance, hosting a row of tall stools with worn leather seats.

From where she’s polishing silverware, Almari indicates with a blunt knife to a snug corner at one end of the bar. Fíli obliges, pinching off his gloves on the way. He has to remove his coat to sidle between the wall and the counter, and plants himself on the lone stool at an awkward angle before he can maneuver his legs under the bar. Once he’s situated, he turns to hang his coat on the hook above his left shoulder.

It’s a questionable fit, but the space offers a sense of cozy privacy; just what he needs to settle his nerves after driving through nasty weather.

Almari appears and sets a steaming cup of strong coffee in front of him, smiles warmly, and pats his forearm with the affection of an old friend.

“Bit nippy out there.” She says, brushing snow from his beard with the towel she’d been using to polish the silverware. “Wouldn’t go out there for all the money in the world.”

“It’s not so bad.” Fíli assures, “At least it’s not icy.”

Almari looks skeptical, “I’m just happy I don’t have far to go when I close up.” Her apartment being directly above the café. “Would be a nightmare trying to find my car after all this snow.”

Fíli agrees. “A real archeological dig, ay?”

Almari considers him sympathetically for a moment before she breaks the news Fíli feared when he was redirected toward Aglarshire. “Make yourself comfortable, dear. The plows might not get to our neck of the woods for awhile yet.”

Fíli’s heart leaps to his throat, but he arranges his features into a neutral guise. “Yeah, I figured as much.”

Almari straightens and smooths down her apron. “The usual, then?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Never, when it comes to you, boy.” Almari leans over the bar again and pinches Fíli’s cheek softly. Then off she sweeps into the kitchen, barking Fíli’s order to the cook, Randolf, her husband of thirty years.

Fíli glances outside, brow knitted. He can hardly see the road through the curtain of snow. He slips a hand in the kangaroo pocket of his sweater and gently holds the envelope he tucked in there for safe keeping, contemplating his options.

At best, he’ll be late. At worst, he’ll miss Kíli’s show altogether and have to apologize to his mother for money wasted. Not that she’ll mind. Nah, she’ll probably take it as a sign from the cosmos that Fíli needs to plant his attention in reality.

No sense fretting, Fíli resolves and fishes his book from his coat pocket.

Whatever happens, happens.

…And say it again, with feeling.

Fíli huffs through his nose, molars grinding, and flips his book open to where he left off.

***

This is wholly unorthodox, Weavers traveling through the curtain into Arda, but Gandalf’s mind is made up. Why Thranduil and Radagast join him, he doesn’t know, their motivations none of his concern.

They land as a unit, dropping like stones into the snow from above. Gandalf and Radagast disappear for a moment beneath the plush white, while Thranduil’s head and shoulders pierce the snow, his long, dainty legs the only bit of him now visible to the world.

Gandalf and Radagast pop up, pull themselves free and brush themselves off. Thranduil’s legs kick frantically before either notice he’s stuck. Together, they yank Thranduil free and resume orienting themselves, scanning their surroundings for anything that can help them on their journey.

“Aha!” Gandalf sees it first, the depot the town uses to house their massive machines.

“That’s what you have in mind?” Thranduil sounds incredulous, “I thought we shelved your idea to shovel three hundred kilometersofroad.”

Radagast wrings his hands, worried for Gandalf’s sanity.

“Not shovelling,” Gandalf corrects with a wicked glint in his eye, “Plowing.”

“Oh my…” Radagast squeaks, as Thranduil erupts, “You cannot possibly think that’s a better solution! You’ve never even used one of those ghastly contraptions!”

Gandalf waves him off, “How hard could it be?” and trudges forward, carving a path for Radagast and Thranduil to follow.

As it turns out, it’s incredibly hard. For three whimsical beings of the Otherlands, anyway.

Once they locate the right machine, one boasting a large, yawning blade at its front, they struggle to bring it to life. Gandalf and Radagast fiddle with levers and buttons, pressing and pulling things at random.

“What about this one?”

“No, no, no, it must be this one.”

“Or this one.”

Thranduil rolls his eyes, content not to participate. No, he’s a being of acute intelligence and has a better idea than pushing and prodding everything like toddlers in an elevator.

Without saying a word, he marches toward what a sign specifies is the Main Office. He enters and slips behind the front desk to study a corkboard filled with rows of keys, all labeled neatly for convenience.

At least these Gondorian neanderthals are organized, he muses.

It takes less than a minute for him to locate the right key. Just as he wraps his fingers around it—

“Hey! Who are you!?” A man shaped like a star demands. He’s round in the middle and thin everywhere else with a head of stringy black hair. The stench of self-importance radiating from him suggests to Thranduil he’s the one in charge of the fleet of machines.

Thranduil groans dramatically, completely put-off by the whole situation, “Well, shit.” In a calculated act of defense, he grabs the computer off the front desk and brings it down on the man’s head.

He crumples into a heap instantly.

Thranduil takes the right key, steps over the man elegantly, and marches back to Gandalf and Radagast.

***

“Looks like it’s your lucky day,” Almari tells him, watching through the snow the silhouette of a snowplow thunder down the road at speed. She frowns, “Can’t always believe what they tell you on the news, can you?”

“‘Spose not,” Fíli chuckles, fishing a Ꞓ201 note from his wallet and dropping it on the bar. “I’d better be off.” He shrugs on his coat, flashing a bright smile at Almari, “Thanks for lunch, it was delicious as ever.”

“Stop in on your way back.” Almari instructs, “I’ve a special Christmas menu that I think you’ll enjoy.”

Fíli nods, walking backward a few steps, “Will do.” He salutes playfully then spins around and pushes through the door. The wind and snow hit him like a brick wall, almost forcing him backward. Thankfully, he’s made of stronger stuff, and shoulders his way toward his truck.

Though the road has been cleared, the car park is still covered in a blanket of white that reaches halfway to Fíli’s knees. Not ideal, Fíli thinks, but doable. If he leaves now, he’ll make it to Pelargir and complete his delivery by early evening, as intended with the mild delay.

He only hopes things go smoothly from here.

***

Kíli squints against the stage lights, but it’s impossible to distinguish anyone in the audience. Both he and Boromir are already in their places, microphones adjusted to their preferences, muted until the broadcast starts.

He kept an eye out for Fíli while backstage, peeking into the auditorium as often as Merry would allow (which wasn’t often, between frog marching Kíli to hair and makeup, and debriefing Kíli and Boromir on their lineup of special guests and the playlist).

Never in a million years did Kíli think he would be this dedicated to making a fan happy. Usually, that’s PRs job, fussing over giftbags and food boxes, when and where fans can meet the DJs, and so on. This time, Kíli forced his involvement, questioning Rosie about Fíli’s seating arrangement and whether or not he’ll receive a one-on-one with Kíli after the show ends.

Rosie massaged her temples, said in a clipped tone, “Kíli, please, let me do my job.”

“I just—”

She raised her hands in a gesture parents use to calm their children, “I understand this is important to you, but just worry about the show. I’ve taken care of everything. Your guest will be treated like royalty, just like the other invitees, alright?”

Kíli swallowed and nodded shortly, “Alright.”

Now, he fiddles with the ungodly Christmas blazer wardrobe forced him into. The pattern is bright green-and-red plaid embroidered with sparkly gold thread. Beneath he wears a thin sweater in a crisp white with the image of a fluffy Christmas tree on the front, and, under that, a red, collared shirt.

Boromir dons an equally as gaudy combination, though he seems far less uncomfortable, sprawled in his chair like a king at a feast, texting his wife who sits in the audience only meters away.

“Two minutes.” Merry announces, coming up to them. “You two ready?”

“Yes.” Boromir says at the same time Kíli says, “No.”

“Well, pull it together, man,” Merry insists as he grabs a handheld microphone and prepares to deliver his welcome introduction to the audience. “Don’t forget to smile!” He urges, tracing an exaggerated U over his mouth with his forefingers, before trotting to the front of the stage and signalling to the sound booth.

“Mate, you’ve never been nervous a day in your life.” Boromir reminds Kíli, “You’ve got this.” He reaches forward and squeezes Kíli’s shoulder. “Right?”

“Right.” Kíli says and, for the first time since he started a career in radio, he doesn’t believe it.

***

After abandoning the wreckage of the snowplow in a ditch for the town to deal with, Gandalf, Thranduil and Radagast stomp through the door of Gandalf’s office, dusting snow off their shoulders and shaking it out of their hair.

“That was the worst thing you’ve ever done.” Thranduil says, plopping into the armchair. “I can’t believe we weren’t killed.”

“Close enough,” Radagast winces, rubbing the lump at the back of his head.

Gandalf grins, pleased with himself. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“Fine and well,” Thranduil flaps a hand toward the Palantír, “But what about that? You want to plow through a bunch of civilians, too?”

Deflating, Gandalf watches the image shift from Fíli’s truck to the kilometers of bumper-to-bumper traffic heading into Pelargir. Construction lights and road signs herd cars into one of five lanes, the other four closed for repaving.

Because of fucking course it is.

“He’s not going to make it,” Radagast laments, hand over his heart. “Even after all we’ve done…”

“Mmm.”

Thranduil pinches the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe I have to say this, but: you are aware there’s a whole city and many hours of night at your fingertips, yes?”

Gandalf stares at him inquisitively, inviting Thranduil to continue, “They don’t need to meet at the show.”

Radagast brightens, “They don’t need to meet at the show!”

“I’m surprised how much you care.” Gandalf admits to Thranduil. “I didn’t take you for the sentimental type.”

“Oh, shut up. I just don’t want to see you lose your bet. Elrond is insufferable enough as it is.” He amends and stands, holding out a hand for Gandalf to take, “Now, let’s see this shitshow through to the end, shall we?”

“Indeed.”

***

Fíli didn’t make it.

The traffic into the city was worse than Fíli’s ever experienced in all his days hauling freight. It crawled ahead by inches for close to two hours, during which Fíli listened to the Christmas special with a broken heart.

He knows better now than to get his hopes up about this sort of thing. Not that he expected much out of the evening, at most an autograph or a handshake.

Still…

Fíli shakes his head, hellbent on turning the night around.

The delivery successful, albeit an hour later than scheduled, he takes the underground downtown and roams the busy streets. Pelargir looks like something out of a Hallmark movie, glittering under strings of gold and coloured lights. Storefronts are decorated with garland and baubles and tinsel, all arranged to evoke Christmas cheer.

It works, the chill of dismay lifting ever-so-slightly from Fíli’s chest.

Fíli plucks his way through the bustling crowd, keeping an eye out for somewhere to eat. He’s decided to treat himself to something fancier than he’s used to. Somewhere with cloth napkins and unique cutlery for each dish.

He spends twenty minutes wandering up and down the maze of streets, reading menu displays and peeking in windows at restaurant floors crammed with guests. Turning another corner, Fíli’s just about to throw in the towel and find the nearest fast-food joint when he, quite literally, stumbles upon a small sidewalk a-frame that’s chalk lettering promises Festive Fancies Within.

Fíli scans the area, hoping that no one saw him trip over the sign, and sets it to rights.

It’s as good a place as any, less busy than everywhere else, though still hosting a fair amount of people. Fíli is greeted by a cheerful looking older gentleman with twinkly grey eyes and a beard to match.

“How many?” The gentleman inquires.

“Just me.”

“Ah, for one. I can only offer a seat at the bar, I’m afraid. Though, rest assured, the service is exceptional.”

Fíli shrugs, already unwrapping his scarf and shoving his gloves in his coat pocket. “Suits me just fine.” He says and allows the gentleman to escort him to a seat near the middle of the bar.

The bartender casts him a smile, indicating he’ll be right with him, and continues to expertly shake and prepare multiple drinks at a time. Fíli watches the bartender pour the contents of one shaker into a chilled martini glass with a flourish, while bouncing another shaker from his elbow into his hand before emptying it into a rocks glass filled with a single, large cube of ice.

Fíli doesn’t bother to hide his awe, never having been anywhere the bartenders perform tricks. It’s obvious the bartender appreciates Fíli’s open admiration since he slides Fíli a drink with three discernable layers— seasonal red, white, and green—in a tall glass, garnished with a spear of dark cherries and lime, and a sugar-frosted rim.

“Thank you.” He says when the bartender approaches to drop a menu in front of him.

“My pleasure.” The bartender smirks, “Just signal me when you’re ready to order.” And off he swans, plucking a long chit from the machine behind the bar and filling its order in an intricate series of movements not unlike a ballet.

***

Kíli feels like he’s being followed. He’s not unfamiliar with the sensation. Since being on the radio and hosting a handful of televised events, a few enthusiastic encounters occurred on behalf of fans. Normally, he invites the adoration, wanting to accommodate those who support his career; they’re responsible for his success, after all.

Tonight, however, he’s not in the mood.

He wasn’t expecting to feel such crushing disappointment when Rosie informed him after the show that Fíli hadn’t been in the audience. The show itself was a resounding success, deserving of the standing ovation it received when the broadcast ended.

Only, Kíli can’t bring himself to be proud. He was looking forward to meeting Fíli, had a plan to invite him out for a drink—maybe a meal—get to know the man whose mother loves him so much, she’d slipped into Kíli’s DMs.

The tingling at his nape increases, the feeling of being followed morphing into something ominous.

Not wanting to be axe-murdered, Kíli picks up his pace, striding around a corner as quick as he can without drawing attention to himself. As he’s about to break into a full-out run, he trips and crashes into a restaurant a-frame, ill-placed in the middle of the sidewalk.

“What the shit!” He cries, hurrying back to his feet. It’s then that he notices a crooked figure rounding the corner. “Vala—” He bolts up the cobblestone path to the door of the restaurant and practically falls inside.

There are a fair few people (witnesses, Kíli thinks, relieved) conversing over expensive looking meals and bottles of wine. The place has an old-world charm about it, stone walls and exposed beams, the waiters donning bowties and polished shoes.

“Hello.” The host greets him, startling Kíli.

“Hi!” He chokes out. The host looks ancient, sort of wizardlike. “Hi, yes, sorry.” He tries again, surreptitiously glancing behind him to see if the crooked figure has followed him inside.

The doorway is empty.

“For one, please.”

The host picks up a menu, “The bar is open for full-service, tonight,” he explains, “Unfortunately our tables are reserved for parties of two or more.”

“Sounds great,” Kíli follows the host to the end of the bar, unzipping his leather jacket and pulling off his scarf. He’s so focused on getting himself sorted that he doesn’t notice the bartender delivering a pint of Guiness he didn’t order until a coaster is placed in front of him.

Kíli’s about to say something when the bartender, a dazzling man with silvery hair, informs him, “From the gentleman at the end.” and hooks his thumb over his shoulder in the direction he’s referring to.

“Oh,” Kíli slopes to the side to see around the bartender and his jaw drops. “Oh…!”

He can’t believe it. There, sitting alone, slouched over a book that has his full concentration, is Fíli Durin. Kíli can’t help the airy laugh he lets out and quickly gathers his jacket and scarf.

“Thank you,” He says to the bartender, who sports an oddly conspiratorial grin, “I’m just going to—yeah.” In his excitement, Kíli almost forgets his pint, grabs it at the last second, and scurries—not too eagerly, lest he present himself as a wanker—to fill the vacant seat beside Fíli.

Fíli, so enraptured by his book, doesn’t notice.

Kíli clears his throat, “Um, hi there.”

Fíli’s head jerks up, eyes wide, and slowly turns to face Kíli, face slackening into pure shock. Kíli’s heart is in his throat, palms suddenly clammy. Fíli is more handsome in person than in the picture Dís sent.

“I—you don’t mind, do you?” He asks about the seating arrangement.

Fíli blinks, seeming to come back to himself, “No. No, please, go ahead.”

“You’re Fíli. Fíli Durin, right?”

Visibly confused, Fíli answers slowly, “Um, yes. How did you—?“

Kíli cuts in quickly to avoid being mistaken for a stalker. “—Your mum sent me a message a few days ago.”

He’s never seen anyone look so delicious when processing the shock and horror of a mother’s good intentions. Fíli makes it work.

“Oh, Mahal, she didn’t.” Fíli drops his head into his hands, his broad shoulders shaking as he chuckles through the embarrassment.

“I thought it was adorable.” Kíli admits and catches Fíli’s gaze, holding it for a few seconds before casting his eyes downward.

Fíli barks a laugh, a sound that sends a jolt of heat to Kíli’s gut, “You did not.”

“I did!” Kíli shifts closer to Fíli and winks, “I really appreciated the picture she sent, too. I didn’t know Nibin Noeg had any fans left after their last album.”

They banter back and forth; the way Kíli doesn’t know Fíli always imagined they would. The conversation swells and eases by turns, the two slowly losing themselves in one another as the world around them trickles away.

Fíli is interesting and funny and more than Kíli assumed, and Kíli doesn’t want to be anywhere else ever again.

From the look Fíli gives him, Kíli thinks Fíli feels the same.

***

Collapsing into various seats around Gandalf’s office, the three Weavers heave sighs of relief.

“We did it.”

“Understatement of the century, Gandalf.” Thranduil retorts, summoning a cup of elderberry tea. He directs his next statement to Radagast, “I can’t believe you got him—” that is, Kíli, “—there on time.”

Radagast shrugs helplessly, “I didn’t. I lost him outside the theater.”

They allow the information to marinate between them for a minute before Gandalf snorts and then erupts into booming laughter. Thranduil joins him next and then Radagast, though somewhat less enthusiastically.

There are three things a Weaver understands intrinsically.

One, Weavers aren’t miracle-makers.

Two, Weavers can’t force love to happen where it doesn’t want to.

And three, Eternal Love is a rare gem that will bring two people together.

With or without a Weaver’s interference.

Gandalf flicks his wrist and catches a stein of lager that appears, takes a deep drink, and says thoughtfully, “What a bloody waste of time.”

“At least you get to keep your hat.” Radagast points out.

“Very true, old friend, very true…”

***

END

1 – I wanted to incorporate Castar currency, but there obviously isn’t a symbol for it so…this is what I liked best XD

#submission #Gathering 12 Days 2023 #Fili/Kili #FiKi #Durincest #the Hobbit

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absurdthirst · 7 months

Text

Kinktober 2023: October 12th

Day 12: Orgasm Denial/Control, Lingerie, Role Reversal

Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Handjobs, dom/sub dynamics, safe words, orgasm denial, begging, cum play

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

All you want for Javi is pleasure. Soft, aching, consuming pleasure. His face scrunches up, his bottom lip nearly bruised with biting and still he gives you the softest eyes that you’ve ever seen in this world.

“How are you doing, baby?” Your hand caresses his sweaty cheek and immediately the rasp of his stubby whiskers rake against your palm. Nuzzling into you and seeking more contact from you. Wanting you to touch him.

“Please, please, amore.” He pants softly, that broad chest heaving and the stretched skin showing the details of his sternum as he grips the headboard as if it is a life raft in a storm. “I need to cum.”

“Ssshhhhhhhh, Ssshhhhh.” You coo softly, the hand that isn’t caressing his cheek, squeezing his cock and slowly starting to pump it again. “You’ll cum, sweet boy, I promise.” Your thumb presses against the heavily leaking tip and you smear the wetness around to add to the lube and pre-cum that coats his cock and drips down onto his balls from his hair around the base. “Just not right now.”

He looks fucking glorious. His tanned skin seemingly even darker as the blood flushes underneath. Normally warm, butterscotch eyes darker than rich coffee as his pupils are blown wide with desire and need. Every time his chest heaves, his cock twitches in your hand, his hips jerking up to beg for more. Even as you dispense the most intense pleasure of his life.

He wants this. Had begged for you to take control and make him feel. Nothing beyond the two of you and this moment. He wants to see what it is like to be denied an orgasm. To be pushed beyond the dull ache and the gathered tension in the pit of his stomach. His mind is free of everything but the slick crevices of your hand curled around his cock as you slowly slide your hand back down from the head and to the base.

“It’s so good, so bad, oh it hurts amore.” He has been rambling for long minutes, unable to decide if it’s pleasure or pain when it’s both. Mingled together and wrapped, twisted and fused until you’re unable to differentiate if you want it to stop or last forever. The broken groan slips from his mouth as the breath catches in his lungs, sounding almost like a sob.

Squeezing the base of his cock, you let go. Watching his body melt into the bed, deflating and withering from the contact of your hand.

“No, no, no, no,” his head whips back and forth across the flat pillow behind his head, pushing his hips up off the bed as if he could reach your hand, like you haven’t pulled it towards your body. “I need it, touch me, amore. Don’t- I can’t- I need-”

His words are broken, unable to complete a single thought beyond the loss of your hand. Of the pressure that you have made him crave through the torturously luxurious strokes to his cock.

“You want a minute?” You ask gently, giving him a moment to collect himself, to cool down. Your hand still pressed down to his jaw, a reassuring, grounding presence. Letting him take a few breaths, feeding the oxygen back to his body to clear his head.

Javi might have had lovers, he might have experience, but he’s never given someone control like this. Never felt that he could. There was this image that was expected, demanded, because of his name. Because of his family. Because of who he had been born to be and wasn’t. Not really. The facade that lovers, that the world saw, was not the man that was currently writhing in your bed and begging to cum.

“I need you.” He whines, biting his lip and closing his eyes as he tries to breath through the feeling of loss and his body trying to balance itself back out. “Please, amore.”

Leaning up, you press your lips against his. Smiling when his moan is followed by his eager tongue. Desperate for what contact you will give him.

“Sweet boy.” You purr, slowly dragging your finger up the curved, thick length of his cock and wrapping two fingers around the protective foreskin to drag it down. Revealing the sensitive head of his cock to the air again. His shudder is sweet. “Does it feel good?”

“So good.” Javi is immediately agreeing, nodding effusively and almost gasping for air again at the simple squeeze of your lubricated fingers on his scorched skin. “So good, so good, please.” He begs.

You’ve kept him this way for nearly an hour. Poised just on the edge of giving in and cumming. Always managing to stop him before he orgasms and letting him calm down before working him up again. The reading and movies that he had watched about orgasm denial were no match for experiencing it for himself. Knowing that you would keep him safe and not judge him for wanting this. It’s why you were in love. There was nothing that Javi Gutierrez couldn’t share with you.

You twist your wrist slowly, letting him feel the tension of your fingers before moving back, slowly starting to guide the skin over the hardness up and down his length with sure, firm strokes.

“Oh yes,” He cries, closing his eyes and tensing his entire body. Despite needing to cum, he had told you he wouldn’t until you gave him permission. Still not using the safeword that had been agreed upon. The headboard creaks as he pulls against it, resisting the urge to let go and jerk himself to completion. “Yes, fuck, yes!”

He’s throbbing in your hand. The tattooing beat of his heart pulsing in your hand, so measured and quick that you could keep rhythm with it. Thighs shaking as you methodically work him closer to that impossible ledge again. Feeling his body jerk and spasm as he fights the urge to give in, to cum. “I- I- I can’t-” he gasps out, shaking his head again and scrunching his eyes up, entire face set in near agony as his toes curl. It’s the longest he’s ever been touched without cumming and he feels like he would cum if you just flicked your tongue over his nipple, or squeezed him again.

“You want to cum, sweet boy?” He whimpers when you ask, nearly about to cry and you swear that one tear does leak out from his closed eyes as he tries to be good for you. Tries to deny what he wants most as your hand moves up and down, up and down over his nearly oversensitive cock. “You want to cum all over your chest like a dirty boy for me?”

“Ohh fuuuuuuuuck.” He shudders out a breath, letting go of the headboard and clenching his fists as he slams them into the soft mattress, absorbing the blows with a soft thud. “I’m- I can’t-”

“Cum for me.” You order softly, immediately feeling the way that his entire body bucks and bows up, feet pushing his ass off the bed and into your hand as he starts to cum.

Shouting, Javi cums and cums, shooting rope after rope of his seed over his chest and stomach. A stray shot hitting him in the chin as he cums like a geyser and groans as his body shakes in the almost painful pleasure of release. Rocking his hips up until your grip until you have milked him dry and still, he keeps moving. Craving the relief, the pressure is gone and it leaves behind a gloriously empty feeling.

Through it all, you praise him. Cooing over how well he’s doing. How good he’s been for you, your fingers already playing in the thick, pearlescent fluid as it starts to cool on his skin. Knowing that you will be softly pampering him while he comes down from his high, much more intense after being denied for so long.

#pedro pascal #absurdthirst kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #javi gutierrez #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x you #javi gutierrez smut #javi gutierrez fanfiction #javi gutierrez imagine #javi gutierrez x f!reader

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heyidkyay · 2 months

Text

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Fourteen

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors Note: First bit is a lil messy! BUT it's just a way of moving through time whilst letting you know what's going on. Apologising anyway, tried to make it as simple as possible! Idk how I’m really feeling about this series atm ngl, hopefully I’ll find some more inspiration soon x

> Just a reminder! We left the last update with Mouse and her mum talking about Matty:) You can look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

Mirror

14:04, 26 Dec 2023

For Christmas Denise Welch reunites with..

LOOSE Women star Denise Welch had a fun-filled Christmas this year with her two sons and...

*picture: family gathering featuring Matty Healy in red beanie*

comments:

@/user1 Glasses and beanie combo>>> @/user2 He was wearing that yesterday too @/user3 I wish my family was chill enough to take a xmas pic😭

[HOMESCREEN] 11:12

Facetime now Matty:)!! Incoming Call

Messages 4m Finnleyyy So will I be seeing my best mate this nye??

Instagram 11m Trumanblack mentioned you in a private story

TWITTER: ‘75 updates @/75updateacc Matty spotted out in Manchester! *picture: long trench and red beanie*

Ugh! @/user1 Matty on new years! *with old friends // red beanie tucked into a jacket pocket* > Loveme @/user2 The beanie is spotted again.. >> Saidhello @/user3 @/user2 Been all over his ig stories too 👀 friends? @/user4 I'm sort of obsessed w it and the fact it's stirring up so many questions💀 ppl, @/user5 it's so nice to see him actually happy!! lemmebepartoftheband @/user6 WAITING ON THE NEXT ALBUMMMM

Instagram

Trumanblack Story today

The Sun

23:47, 31 Dec 2023

MATTY HEALY SPOTTED OUT FOR NEW YEARS CELEBRATIONS AFTER 'SUPPOSED' SOBRIETY

The 1975 frontman was seen out in London this evening with friends and other members of the band celebrating a...

*picture: Matty Healy all dressed up and sporting a red beanie*

comments:

@/user1 shit like this ruins people @/user2 That hat again! Was it a Christmas present? @/user3 another celeb trying at sobriety, another bullshit article @/user4 Where in London even was this?

TWITTER: ‘75 updates @/75updateacc Band's interview with Variety today, click here for the video! Will be updating later on today:) *boys all pictured: George/shades, Matty/beanie&longtee, Ross/hairdown, Adam/leatherjacket*

[HOMESCREEN] 13:52

Messages 3m Matty:)!! Just wrapping up now, should be able to call in 10 x

Youtube 9m Recommended: The 1975 - Talks of tour? | VM Radio Uk

Instagram 21m Trumanblack just added to his story

AdelineWells sent you a direct message

23 New Notifications click to open

TWITTER: Partoftheband @/user1 Talks of tour??? Are they trying to kill me? Gotabf @/user2 The beanie!! It's back!! Milk @/user3 You reckon he's washed it? People! @/user4 He wears so much designer shit, why's he wearing a hat that looks like it was knitted by my nan??

With January, came sleet and heavy rain. Forcing us all indoors and making quick regrets over arduous New Year’s resolutions.

I had half a dozen interviews lined up in the first month alone, which was a promising start to the year but also incredibly nerve wracking. I’d spent the majority of the wavering days between Christmas and the 31st fretting over each and every detail, beyond thankful that my mum had stuck around a little longer after the festivities to help keep Teddy preoccupied.

Adi, thankfully, was stuck in the exact same boat, which meant that we could both bear the burden together. Leading to a whole lot of time being spent on the phone, making plans, or down at the studio, where Teddy could roam free. We were moving up in the world, as Matty now liked to claim, and so that meant more of our time being taken up by mundane tasks such as asking Hozier’s PA what kind of drink he preferred and avoiding a couple of Podcaster's sudden opinions on us.

Still, we were forever grateful.

Though it wasn’t just the radio show getting shafted with a shit ton of toil either, it appeared that work had Finn headed off to the States for a few gallery openings, and Matty pulled in all sorts of directions whilst the band sorted out their upcoming album.

I hadn’t heard a word of it, although the singer kept on endlessly chattering away about how much he loved the songs they were now producing, suddenly leased with a newfound life. Which always left me feeling happy, even if I did have to wait alongside the rest of the world to listen in. It was nice knowing that he was enjoying it all once more. Seeing as, music made Matty and Matty made music. And all that.

So anyway, what I’d been getting at there was that the last few weeks had been all too trying. Enough so that Matty and I had hardly seen hide nor hair of each other, and our Facetime calls had been fair and few. Which was something that didn’t just sadden me, but Teddy too it seemed, who’d come to quite like the musician and all of his odd quirks.

That fact in itself had almost sent me running, in truth.

And maybe that was silly of me, but Teddy was my everything and it killed me to see him upset over someone he barely even knew. But then again, I supposed he did know Matty in a way. Whenever Matty called, Teddy was there to tell the man about his day, whenever Matty texted he never failed to ask after Teds, whenever he sent pictures and videos of the studio and whatever else he was doing they were usually for Teddy to see.

I didn’t think Teddy had ever attached himself to a person so quickly. Which really did surprise me. Though oddly enough, what surprised me much more was the fact that Matty had just soldiered on and stuck with it, instead of running for the hills the first chance he’d gotten, like I’d expected.

Which was perhaps a bit of an unfair assumption on my part, but it was something I didn’t feel too guilty over- I’d made that clear to Matty the very first day the two of them had met after all.

Saying that though, I was left to eat my words as I watched that same man galavant his way around a London Zoo with a four year old plopped atop his shoulders. Doing so without complaint, and thoroughly enjoying it too.

“There! There, Matty! You see?” I heard Teddy call out in loud excitement as I trailed my way on after them, his little fingers holding onto the red beanie Matty now often favoured. Something I relentlessly teased him about but which left me feeling all warm every time I saw it.

“Oh yeah! I do now. Wow monster, how’d you even spot him over there?” Matty replied, feigning obvious awe and grinning madly when Teddy leaned over the top of his head to poke his face into view.

“I eat carrots.”

I snorted at the simple answer Teddy gave and Matty, forever charmed by my toddler’s antics, nodded around a low chuckle of his own. “I’ll make sure to buy a couple on my way home then.”

Stepping closer, I found it strange to be in a zoo so lifeless. Which probably sounded even more peculiar, but then again, it hadn’t been my idea to go ahead and rent the entire place out just so that we could have a nose around at all the wildlife without Matty getting mobbed. What a diva, hey?

“I still can’t believe you did all this.” I murmured to him once Matty had set Teddy back down on the ground, leaving my son to run on over towards one of the caged fences, calling out to the languid lions that laid beyond it.

“It’s sick.”

That had been Matty’s only defence since having arrived and me figuring this all out, it was as endearing as it was bewildering.

“It’s mental is what it is, you idiot.”

He glanced over at me, hands tucked up in his pockets, a smug grin now painted on his face. I crossed my arms over my chest, refusing to be charmed by him and his inane antics.

“Admit it, you’re loving this. Not having to worry about losing the kid and actually being able to get a look in at this lot.” Matty argued, and if he were anyone else he’d be swaying back and forth in utter delight- Wilmslow’s very own Willy Wonka- but all he did was simply look back at Teddy with a prideful grin, who was now currently trying to lure a lioness in closer.

Thing is, he wasn’t wrong. And Matty was enough of a git to know it too.

I didn’t grant him a reply though and instead wandered over to drag my son away from the ever nearing lion. “Did you see, mama? She likes me!”

I had to grin and bite back my sudden hysteria, although Matty snorted from his place now back beside us. “I did see, lovely! How about we go look at the snakes though now, hey?” And with that, Teddy was eager to part from us (and thankfully the lion) , sprinting ahead in the direction of a lizard sign that stood not too far away, leaving Matty and I to trail behind.

“Where all the animals are locked behind glass, yeah?” Matty piped up after and I narrowed my eyes at him in return, refraining from giving him a right good shove.

“Shut it.”

He merely cackled and looped an arm around my shoulders.

–

“They should just get back together. I mean- the money alone!”

I chuckled quietly to myself, moving about the tiny kitchenette at the studio and rolling my eyes at the man propped up between a Guinness World Records book we had and the sugar tin.

“I’m not saying that they shouldn’t! I’m just saying that they won’t.” I argued back, still rifling my way through a drawer in search of a sharp enough knife. “Those are two completely different things.”

“So what?” Matty scoffed, his displeasure with the whole debate managing to seep its way through the phone. “Fucking pair of pillocks, can’t even imagine how the world would react, the industry alone!”

I smiled, all too familiar with the daily rants of one Matthew Healy. This particular tirade of his had been spurred on by a comment I’d made on today’s show, it seemed he’d been listening in.

“Oo, is there a brew going for me?”

I glanced behind me just in time to spot Adi making her way into the studio, a large duffle bag for tomorrow's shoot thrown over her left shoulder.

“Who else?” I quipped back, grinning victoriously when I finally found the trusty blade I’d brought over from mine so many years ago now that laid between a wooden spoon and a jar opener.

“What are you even doing?” She asked me next, having already tossed the bag down onto the sofa and made her way over. She waved when she spotted Matty’s familiar face upon opening the fridge, used to his presence cropping up here and there by now, “Alright, Healy? Thought you had big meetings today.”

“We do. I’m currently hiding out in a bin.”

Adi paused to blink at the absurd reply and then shrugged, not seeing the point in questioning it any further. “And you?” She prompted me, plucking a pint of milk from the fridge and slamming it closed.

“So full of questions today, high inquisitor.” I sang, already moving to slice into the whole watermelon I’d brought on my way in, having right fancied it when I’d passed by the fruit & veg stall up on the high street. “And what do you think, Ads? Exactly what it looks like.”

“Yeah, but why?”

I just shook my head in answer and Adi seemed to take that for what it was, a blatant dismissal. Matty though, ever so sweet, must’ve felt a bit bad because I heard him pipe up again, “She’s gone and brought a whole watermelon. Paid five quid for the thing, you believe that?”

“Five quid! Did he ask if he could spit in your face too?” Adi all but exclaimed, eyes as wide as saucers as she looked over at me.

“Yes, five quid.” I stressed, having already heard enough of it from Matty, who didn’t have a leg to stand on here. “Now leave off, or I won't share.” I wielded the knife between the pair of them jokingly and Adi relented easily enough, already moving to skim a piece I’d just cut from off the counter. I cast a shrewd glance towards my phone, “And besides you can’t talk, Mr. Millionaire.”

Matty snorted.

“Is it really that much?” Adi wondered out loud, sweeping over to get a better glimpse at my screen and the man hidden within it.

I rolled my eyes and smirked, already figuring that she’d try her luck with just that thought alone.

“Piss off, Wells.” Matty laughed, amused by the ever so sweet smile Adi had suddenly conjured up for him and the way she was now batting her lashes, “How the fuck did we go from watermelon to my networth anyway?”

“Extortion.”

“Nepotism.”

I stopped slicing to taste test a chunk of watermelon and heard Matty heave a heavy sigh.

Adi, though, just moved to ask, “Did you threaten the fruit & veg man then?”

“Fucking should’ve.” I muttered, but couldn't quite bring myself to regret the wasted fiver then, not when the fruit was almost heavenly.

“Can you stop eating? I’m in a crisis you know, and fucking starving.” I heard Matty complain, his voice practically petulant.

“Actually, you’re in a bin.” I corrected, taking another chunk, “So don’t be a drama queen. If you’re hungry, order a Deliveroo or fuck off home.”

Matty was almost pouting when I slid on over to join Adi by the phone, a plate overwhelmed with watermelon now towering between us. His frown deepened. “You’re proper evil, you know that?”

I simply grinned, “You love it.”

Only Adi noticed the faint hue that bloomed across the singer’s cheeks then. Seeing as I was already rambling away once again, talking about the weekend get-together we’d planned now we all had some time to spare.

“You’re still coming, right?” I then asked Adi, who was now smirking for some reason. I raised a brow.

She merely hummed around her next slice and dipped her head at me, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, babe.”

Matty’s eyes narrowed at that but I deemed it better to ignore whatever the two of them had going on, I found life to be much simpler that way.

–

It was almost gone nine and still no sign of her.

She had texted almost half an hour ago now, saying she was headed out, but Matty still kept his phone in hand, spinning it this way and that, just in case she tried messaging again.

“You’re driving me mad with that, man.” George suddenly announced, drawing Matty’s attention back to the table at the overcrowded club they’d picked out. “Stop it.” He added, swatting at Matty’s forearm when he’d barely acknowledged him the first time round.

Matty’s brow pinched but he let the mobile go with a clatter to the tabletop, “Happy?”

George exaggerated his smile in the same sense Matty just had whilst he clasped his hands in mock prayer before him, “Incredibly.” Then he relaxed back in his chair once more, face softening as Matty’s eyes shot out across the floor for the umpteenth time, “God, you’re really fucking strung up on this one.”

“Eh?” Matty immediately asked him, his head spinning back around to spare a glance at his mate.

“Just,” George began with a slow shrug, his chin dipped against his chest now in the way that he’d leaned back making his eyes appear all the more solemn. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you so invested, is all.”

“Invested, fuck’s that meant to mean?”

Goerge just huffed. “I don’t know, Matty. Just, you’re not usually the type to get so caught up on a girl you’re chasing.”

“I’m not chasing her. We’re mates.” Matty hastily defended and could feel the way his face had instantly scrunched up with the force of it.

He was gifted a short snort in return, “Yeah man, sure, and I can fly a shitting plane.” At Matty’s ever darkening expression, George sighed once more and moved to prop himself up on his knees, “Look yeah? I didn’t mean nothing by it, only curious. It’s weird seeing you all moody and pent up about somebody. Been a while.”

It had been a while since he’d last seen someone properly, but that didn’t suddenly mean that he and Mouse currently had anything going on. He’d been too focused on staying clean, working on the album, and trying to forget the last year and a half had ever happened. And Mouse… well, she had a kid and didn’t seem the type to take to anyone so easily. They were mates. Just, mates.

Matty must’ve been quiet a little too long though because when George spoke again his voice had softened, as had his face. It almost looked pitiful now, enough that Matty wanted to force him away from his line of sight. But he didn’t, only glanced back out towards the floor.

“Matty, mate. I really didn’t mean to piss you off, you know that. I’m just saying it how I see it.” Matty rolled his eyes but George only continued to talk, “It’s obvious that you like her, man. Whether it’s just as friends or something more. But do me a favour and just have a long think about it, yeah? She’s nice and all, but I don’t wanna see you hurt.”

Matty bit back the scoff that lodged itself in his throat, “If anything, G, it’d be me hurting her. Wouldn’t be that unexpected though, would it?”

George’s hand came to grasp his shoulder at that and with a firm but gentle grip he forced Matty to better face him, he leaned in so his voice would carry over the music, his forehead now furrowed. “You’re not a bad person, man. Not everyone’s expecting you to fuck up all the time.”

Didn’t that feel like a fucking lie.

The hand pressed further and George shook Matty a tad, wanting him to comprehend his words. Take them in. “You’re doing good, mate. Really good. And we’re proud, alright? We are. All I’m saying is, have a think about what you want. Make sure you’re happier for it, make sure… that you can deal with everything that comes along with it. Understand?”

Matty’s mouth felt a little dry as he stared up into George’s eyes, seeing the genuine care held within them. Almost immediately Matty felt his walls crumble down around him and he struggled to find the right words to respond with. They were proud. So instead, he just nodded and George’s hand clapped the back of his neck with a winning grin.

“Good. Now, go get her, yeah?”

Matty frowned at the words but before he could think to question it the table was moving to welcome in a couple of newcomers and he turned in his seat to meet the eyes of a smiling Squeaks.

“Hey you.”

“You made it!”

She grinned back at him, beamed actually, and Matty felt his eyes flicker down to her lips for a second, then down further to the lovely little dress she’d decided on. He hastily stood up to greet her, wrapping her up in a hug- something that had come more and more naturally to them in the last few weeks- and rocked slightly. “Get all dressed up for me, did you?”

Mouse pulled away with a laugh, her head thrown back a tad before her glistening eyes set themselves back on him, she squeezed his arm, “You wish.”

He did wish. But he didn’t voice that passing thought out loud, filing it away to stress about later, and instead shuffled nearer to whisper, “You do look gorgeous though.”

The skin by her ear prickled with goosebumps and Matty pulled away before he could get too caught up in what that might have meant. He graced her with a slow smile, “Drinks?”

She let go of a breath, then smiled brightly back at him with a dip of her chin, “Drinks.”

–

“I haven't heard a word of it!” I said, pushing my drink down onto the table. I was currently on my fifth of the night, but the guys were forever getting new rounds in and so I knew it wouldn’t take me long before I was handed another.

“You said you didn’t like our stuff!” Matty immediately answered back, his voice a tad bit higher now.

I gaped at the claim, “I did not!”

“Yes, you fuckin’ did!”

The rest of the table was watching on in ever growing amusement, Ross’s eyes were dancing back and forth between Matty and I, whilst Adi wore a grin that could probably help power Blackpool Tower.

“I said I loved your earlier work. I didn’t say I hated the newer stuff!” I rebuked, desperately trying to think back to that first show I’d mentioned Matty in. Had I really said that?

Matty went to speak but Hann cut in before he could, “You two are mental. All I asked was whether she’d heard anything we’d been working on.”

George snorted, managing to drag his eyes away from his fiance to smirk at the pair of us. “Remember she claimed the band looked spent.”

Matty jumped to point in George’s direction, pleased, whilst my eyes widened, “I wouldn’t!”

“You did, love.” George laughed, looking more amused than hurt which was the only thing keeping me from being physically sick. “It’s alright, no harm done.”

I fish-mouthed, but even with that having been said, Matty was still grinning victoriously. “Fucking told you.”

Wrinkling my nose, I turned to neck the rest of my drink. “Yeah, well. I do love your songs, alright?”

Matty’s brows upturned, as if he was about to deny the claim and accuse me of lying, but Adi cut in, “No it’s true, she's been listening to your shit nonstop since you two met. Like it’s grating at this point.”

“Harsh.” Ross dragged out and Adi gave him a coy smile when she went to pat his chest, “You try listening to his gob on repeat and then we’ll talk, yeah?” She retorted easily, dipping her head towards Matty, whose face scrunched up unhappily.

“Careful, Wells. Starting to sound like you might not like me.”

Adi flashed him a toothy smile, “Who claimed I ever did?”

I was quick to reach out and grab Matty’s wrist when he frowned, ready to open his mouth once more. The motion seemed to grab most, if not all, of his attention because he wavered in his stance before letting himself be pulled over.

“He’s fragile, Ads.” I chuckled to her, hand cradling the back of Matty’s head when he leaned in to press his face against my shoulder. “All the big rockstars have delicate egos.”

Adi snorted and I watched as she let Ross drape an arm over her shoulders, her hand finding his.

“Not fucking fragile.” Matty said, but the heat of it was lost in the mumble against my skin, I laughed.

“Sure, babe.” I murmured fondly, smiling when I felt the curve of his grin against my neck. I started to run my hand through his hair almost unconsciously, letting the alcohol dim the anxious worries that would typically cloud my mind. “You’re a real man.”

“A real fuckin’ man.”

I rolled my eyes with a shake of my head that must've disrupted Matty’s newfound peace because he pulled away slightly, hands falling to rest on my hips, keeping us close.

“You’re proper nice, you know?” He mumbled in contradiction to our previous argument, his head falling forward to press his forehead to mine. His eyes appeared so much darker in this light, the little space between us had me holding my breath. “So nice.”

Instantly I was reminded of one of the first conversations I’d had with Adi about Matty, he’d been nice then too. “Thanks.” I chuckled before swallowing, eyes trailing between his before I voiced the thought. “You’re nice too.”

He smiled, one of those lazy ones where his eyelids drooped and the skin around his mouth wrinkled. His stare dropped ever so slightly and my mouth parted on instinct.

Matty licked at his lower lip, teeth grazing it ever so slightly. “I’m glad I met you.”

My heart stuttered in my chest, squeezing in on itself so tightly that I thought it might just give out, before it finally let go. “I don’t think I’ve ever been told that before.”

Matty tilted his head at me causing the tip of his nose to brush against mine, I struggled to remember to keep breathing. “I’m glad I met you, Squeaks.” He repeated with an air of finality, either unaware or uncaring for the reaction it drew from me as he raised a hand to drag his thumb across my jaw.

I looked up into his eyes, unblinking. Aware that I’d never felt quite like anything this before.

“I’m glad I met you too.”

–

Metro News

Feb 2024 06:21

SETTLING DOWN? | ‘75 SINGER CAUGHT IN CLUB WITH SINGLE MUM

Last night it seems our local heartthrob was back out on the town again after a few weeks of silence, only this time he wasn't alone! Read more...

[HOMESCREEN] 07:59

Facetime now Finnleyyy Incoming Call

Messages 7m Adi x Babe wake up, shits going down over on twitter!! Also (very much related) did you shag Healy last night???

Twitter 11m You now have 378 notifications

TWITTER: ‘75 updates @/75updateacc The Band spotted out in London last night with the MouseOnAMic girls! *picture: a story from Adelinewells instagram//blurred group photo*

backofmyvan @/user1 Is this real?? *picture: blurred Matty and Mouse in a dark club* Funnyface @/user2 Is that the radio host? she has a kid?? Saidhello! @/user3 I woke up to chaos. On another note, how are my matty girlies doing today?

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