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ithebookhoarder · 3 days

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Hello hi ! 🤗

Can you do a "bau reacts" when they are undercover in public and about to be found out so the reader just starts making out with them to pretend they are just a couple?

(BAU Headcanons) Making out Undercover

A/N: Mwahaha. Oh, this is a good prompt. Thanks for making me daydream all afternoon. Enjoy my lovelies 😉 Also, as a note, I'm writing the main BAU where I'm at watching it (season 13) plus Luke as he was requested previously 💕

Warnings: Mentions of threat, mentions of weapons, alcohol references, sexual references, implied cases / unsubs. (Let me know if I missed any)

Aaron Hotchner

We know Aaron doesn’t go undercover for most cases, so this would have to be a big case to get him into the field.

This man would be in shock. Let’s be real. He would freeze in place and try to argue for a split second until he realises what you’re trying to do and why - even if you were already together.

As soon as they’re gone though, you’d glance up and see his usual steely glare that tells you you’re in for a scolding once this is over.

However, you’d have to be blind to miss the way he lingers for a moment, holding you close for half a second longer than necessary.

“I feel I should remind you that we are in the field, and whilst it may have worked, I can’t endorse it as a tactic in future. Understood?”

“So I’m hearing that we’re leaving this off of our case report then?”

“Agreed. I don’t need to give Strauss anything else to use to go after us and the team.”

He would roll his eyes and take off after the Unsub, but you’d have to be blind to miss the way he smirks as he goes.

David Rossi

He’d be a little embarrassed but mostly quite smug about the whole thing, even if you were supposed to be undercover.

“Well, I can safely say in all my years in this field I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.”

He’d also refuse to let you apologise for your actions afterwards either.

One, because he’s kind of flattered.

Two, because he’s been around the block a few times and knows that sometimes you have to do what it takes to solve a case or protect yourselves.

Three, you were supposed to be a couple and kissing is what couples do. He’s only sour because if anything he would have liked to be the one who kissed you.

“Relax about it, would you? I won’t tell you some of the things Gideon and I had to do back in the old days. That was before all this new paperwork and guidelines, so that’s all I’ll say on the matter.”

You make a point of remembering to ask him about that at your next night off over drinks.

Derek Morgan

Derek is always up for anything so I feel like he’d be pretty relaxed about being undercover with you, even if you weren't together romantically. He has no issue playing your pretend boyfriend for one night, and is quick to wrap his arm around you.

Which is why it would be such a surprise to him when it’s you who initiated the kiss.

Derek would freeze for like a second, but only out of shock. However, you know he wouldn’t fight you on it.

The second his brain catches up to his body he would be kissing you back, doing everything in his power to match your energy and sell this kiss.

If anything, you’re going to have to be the one to break away once the coast is clear and remind him you’re still technically in the field and that your team is probably wondering where the hell you are right now - and why you stopped responding to your comms.

“I’m just saying, if we get to do that then we need to be partnered up more often.”

“Yeah yeah, Morgan. Let’s just hope Penelope didn’t see that else we’ll never be hearing the end of it.”

Emily Prentiss

She’s been undercover plenty of times in her life and spent a whole chunk of time actually fake-married to Doyle for an op, so she’d be the most comfortable and understanding if you grabbed her for a kiss - especially if you were meant to be a fake couple.

She’d work it out pretty quickly and would respond in kind, pressing herself against you and running her hands all over you.

“Quick thinking with the kiss,” she’d whisper as she brushed a kiss against your neck.

She’d also know exactly where the Unsub is afterwards too, having kept watch in her peripheral vision.

She wouldn’t even have to break eye contact with you before she informed you, “3 o’clock. He just left out the fire exit.”

With that, she’d be off.

She also probably wouldn’t even bring it up again until you’re both back on the jet. Then she’d be smirking at you across the top of her drink and chuckling to herself.

“Normally I’d insist dinner first but given that we caught that bastard I think we’re even.”

JJ knows about going undercover and it takes a lot to rattle her. She would probably go along with the action, even if she’d stay kind of stiff for a good minute or so.

However, she’s a good agent and knows about maintaining a cover so quickly catches on when you pull her in.

She’d return the kiss, shooting glances out the corner of her eye when she thinks it might be safe to check on their target. If it doesn’t look like they’re buying it, she’ll turn things up a notch and spin you around so that she could take control.

“My gun is under my jacket. Reach for it slowly if he comes any closer,” she’d warn, but thankfully you don’t need it. Eventually they leave, distracted by something else, leaving you and JJ to recover.

After catching your breath, you both take off in the direction your target just left in. You can tell JJ is trying not to laugh about what just happened, choosing to make it funny rather than uncomfortable if you weren't together romantically.

Which means you know she’d enjoy teasing you about it in front of the others, making your cheeks burn as she announces on the jet: “For the record, even though it was a ‘cover kiss’ it was pretty good. Just saying. Maybe you should give Morgan some tips. That way he might get a girl to call him back after a first date.”

Luke Alvez

It doesn’t matter if he’s ex-army or whatever. Undercover is not really Luke’s thing and even then, he is more used to infiltrating gangs than playing house.

Basically, he would be surprised by your actions, despite being undercover together. Like, I can see his eyebrows hitting his hairline so fast, bless him. He’d look like a deer in headlights.

“Woah, sweetheart, slow your roll-“

“- Luke. Shut up and kiss me. Now.”

“I - ok.”

Just like that, he’d take control, turning and pressing you against the nearest wall in an attempt to shield you from whoever was watching. He’d also be such a gentleman about it if you weren't already together romantically, keeping his hands on your waist and pulling away the minute he’s sure the danger has passed.

Even then, he’d wait a minute before letting the two of you move from your position, just in case they come back. He’s your partner and he’s returning the favour for you keeping him safe, even if in an unsuspected manner.

“You good?”

“Luke. Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I was the one who planted myself on you.”

“Potato, po-tah-to. Are they still over there?”

“No. They just left out the back.”

“Then let’s go, partner. Let’s catch this freak.”

Penelope Garcia

If Penelope is in the field then you know she is already hella nervous and out of her element. It doesn’t matter if there was a reason she was needed for this particular assignment, she would just take that as added pressure not to let everyone down.

Which is why I’m sure you’d feel worse about planting one on her - even if it does also help distract her from worrying for a minute.

All I can imagine is her giving her trademark squeal of confusion and surprise, even if you gave her a hasty warning - and apology - about what you were going to do.

She’d be stunned at what was happening and probably takes a minute to realise she should probably try and kiss you back, or at least look less visibly startled about it.

“I feel I should point out how unfair it is that this is permitted as ‘suitable workplace behaviour’ as we’re undercover, yet my flirtatious texts with Agent Morgan are not? I will be writing a strongly worded email when we get back, telling HR they can go shove their-”

“Pen? Hey, focus here. Unsub still watching us.”

“Oh, right. Sorry! Ahem… as you were?”

Also, you know that like a day or so later, once it’s all over, she sends you an email informing you that your new username on the BAU system is now ‘smoochykins’ and she will not change it until it becomes not-funny for her… which will probably be never. After all, Morgan has been ‘Chocolate Thunder’ for the last two years and is still going strong.

Dr Spencer Reid

Spencer has been undercover before and is usually quite calm about it, even if it is faking a date or maintaining a story. Still, despite having to do your jobs, you’d hate to make him uncomfortable, knowing how he feels about any kind of physical contact - especially if you're not together.

As he says, with the amount of bacteria shared by shaking hands you’d be safer kissing … guess it was time to take it literally.

He’d be blushing like a tomato as you grab his jacket lapels and pull him close. And honestly? it’s kind of adorable. As is the way he tries to kiss you back, even if he still takes a minute to remember how to even move his body.

I’m just picturing the Lila kiss in season one and how he eased into that and how stunned / embarrassed he seemed afterwards. He would pretty much be like that, but with a fake smile on his face as he rambled in your ear.

“What was that?”

“I was covering our asses. We’re undercover, remember? We’re supposed to be a couple and couples kiss. Also, I’d thought you know, genius, that kissing and displays of public affection make people extremely uncomfortable.”

“No kidding… Morgan can never find out about this.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. You got a deal, pretty boy. This is between us.”

Masterlist

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pumpkinbxtch · 3 days

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heyy! I was wondering if you could do a hc for jason x daughter of Neptune like a beach date and it end with the Neptune girl having a full collection of shells and Jason taking care of her? If that makes sense?! 💗💗

beach day w my baby | headcanons

— jason grace x daughter of neptune!reader

☆ radiostar is playing: sunburn by almost monday…!

warnings: language, as usual I think. a/n: hey beautiful person how you're doing? ofc makes sense so put your sunglasses on girl, we're having a beach day!

Jason couldn’t think of a better way to spend the day than taking you to the beach. Sure, it seemed a bit cliché for a daughter of Neptune, but you couldn’t deny that you missed being near the sea, especially when everyone at Camp Jupiter saw you as just a bad omen. Jason wished it could be like at Camp Half-Blood, where the kids of the Big Three were almost too respected.

You reached for his hand, and he put those thoughts aside. He wanted to focus on you today and have a good time.

For your day at the beach...

Jason carried the backpack with all the essentials, double-checking everything before you left:

- Sunscreen? Check. Maybe it didn’t bother you or him, but he had to protect both of your skin.

- Towels to dry off? Check.

- An inflatable donut? It wasn’t for you, it was for him. He’s a good swimmer, but he wanted to relax too (which clearly didn’t happen).

- And finally, a small net bag.

- water

- snacks

- a protector for his glasses

- a change of clothes for both.

You’d probably drag him through the sand and play with him in the water. Jason held you tightly by the waist, and you smiled in that special way you only did when you were near the water... and him.

He was sweating from the heat and also because you made him nervous. How long have you been his girlfriend? He lost count (okay, he knows exactly, but it’s been long enough for him to be used to it).

He’s a shrimp if he doesn’t protect himself, but even with sunscreen, his face had pink spots.

You took him to a deeper spot with the help of an air bubble, showing him places he could never have seen without you.

Kissing underwater.

Putting sunscreen on each other. Jason always shyly asked when he got near places that might bother you with his hands.

When you were taking a break in the shade on your towels, he would direct a breeze toward you. No heatwave would threaten you.

He kept both of you hydrated.

Then you smiled and reached into the bag for the one thing you begged him to bring: your net bag. “Be right back,” you giggled anxiously and ran off before your boyfriend could say anything. Jason tried to stay put but ended up going with you.

“Look at this!” you squealed, holding up a shell to Jason’s eye level. The comparison was clear because that shell was a shade of blue similar to his eyes. Jason framed the view with his hands.

“Are there shells that color?” You shrugged and tossed it into the net to keep searching until you had a big collection.

Tired, you sat at the edge of the shore, where the tide just touched your toes, and Jason mimicked you. He kissed your forehead and smiled warmly as the sun began to set.

You held the net up, admiring the diversity and beauty of something so simple, then hugged it to your chest, looking a bit sad.

“Something wrong?” your boyfriend asked, noticing your heaviness and thinking you might have hurt yourself.

“Nothing,” you said, standing up and shaking the sand off your legs. “I’m going to put them back where they belong.”

He found it strange. If you’d put so much effort into collecting them, why return them?

“I’m afraid my father will get mad at me for taking something so precious,” you explained, “or that guy Grover will chase me for damaging the ecosystem,” you added with a more genuine laugh.

So, Jason helped you spread out what you had collected. You didn’t feel bad about doing the right thing; quite the opposite.

“All set?” Jason called a few meters away, and you nodded. He noticed you were holding something in your hand and asked with his eyes.

You extended your hand, revealing the unusual shell with the same eye color as Jason. “I know my dad won’t be mad if I take just one,” you said, taking Jason’s hand. He smiled and carried you bridal-style to the showers to wash off the sand.

#maría's shared dreams☆｡ﾟ✧#heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #pjo #jason grace headcanons #jason grace fic #jason grace fanfic #jason grace #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #jason grace x reader #jason grace x daughter of neptune!reader #hoo x reader #pjo x reader #jason grace blurb #jason grace headcanon

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sitp-recs · 2 days

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hey liv!! my gf moves back home and away from me soon its been an emotional time in our household do you have any drarry recs that involve them long distancing/waiting for the other to come back to them ❤️‍🩹 thanks for all your work appreciate you !

I’m so sorry to hear that anon, sending hugs your way. It’s tough to navigate long-distance relationships but I know you guys will find your way back to each other soon enough ❤️‍🩹 I hope these recs can offer you some comfort:

Relic Radiation by @tackytigerfic (M, 1k)

Draco goes into space, leaving behind his son Scorpius (who has just started at Hogwarts, at least), and his not-quite-boyfriend Harry Potter. But Harry can't stop loving Draco just because he's approximately 408km up, in constant orbit.

On Your Way by @lqtraintracks (M, 2k)

Draco waits for Harry to return from an Auror mission.

Mad Blood Stirring by provocative_envy (E, 3k) - AU

It's not like they've been angrily hooking up on the sly since meeting at a Juniors skills camp in fucking Manitoba four years ago, except that's exactly what they've been doing.

Litany by thistle_verse (M, 7k)

With the wizarding world on lockdown due to a magic-draining pandemic, Harry is stuck in Grimmauld Place, bored and alone—until the ghost of Draco Malfoy shows up to haunt him.

Service Bell by @shiftylinguini (E, 8k)

Draco is: a werewolf, living in a cabin in the woods, minding his own business, and never going to buy plaid because he's not that much of a fucking cliche (yet). He's also counting down the days until he sees Harry again.

i wake up falling, orphaned (M, 9k)

Draco’s always leaving, one way or another. Harry’s usually 240 thousand miles too late.

‘Til Our Compass Stands Still by china_nightingale (M, 9k)

Harry and Draco eventually realise that things don't always go to plan, even if it's a plan they've been carefully crafting to keep themselves safe from each other.

Yours Truly by @skeptiquewrites (M, 15k)

Every single one of Harry’s exes has gone on to marry the next person they date, and with the upcoming nuptials of numbers six and seven to each other, Harry’s feeling exhausted by it all. It doesn’t really matter if he lets people assume Draco Malfoy is his boyfriend for a moment of peace. In any case, Draco’s been away for five years and there’s no way he would find out, right?

Sunseeker by @shiftylinguini (E, 15k)

Harry is a struggling writer. Namely, he is struggling with: writing his next book, dealing with his agent, finding a decent tea strainer, fielding his friend's concern over the aforementioned book, and figuring out who the cat loitering in his garden belongs to. He also has a slight liking-Malfoy problem. Okay, he has a massive liking-Malfoy problem.

Unfinished Business by cupiscent (E, 20k)

Ten years after the War ends, Harry and Draco still haven't got their act together. But maybe it's not too late.

Just Give Me a Reason by sassy_cissa (E, 24k)

It's easy to misunderstand a situation when you're in the same country – when your new boyfriend is thousands of miles away, it's nearly impossible. Toss in an unexpected pregnancy, an ex-boyfriend and The Prophet with its exaggerations and it's no wonder Draco is confused.

Running on Air by eleventy7 (T, 75k)

Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects.

Tapestry by @kbrick (E, 91k)

This is a love story that isn't perfect, about two people whose timing is never quite right, and all the moments that come together to make something extraordinarily beautiful anyway.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #long distance relationship

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julietwiskey1 · 6 months

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What if ATLA had 6 seasons, the War trilogy (books 1-3) and the Post-War trilogy (Books 4-6)?

This is a question that I think is harder then the four season question. Usually as a constraint I would want to keep the same tone and maturity level of the show. But I think an additional three seasons will need to be more mature and tackle more political questions that don’t quite fit the original show.

First three seasons are the same. Only major difference is we don’t need to speed run Zuko’s redemption at the end, we can start it and finish it in the fourth season. Then we mirror the last three seasons with the first, where it went water, Earth, Fire now it goes Fire, Earth, Water and we watch the gaang shrink down each season instead of grow.

I would start the season with a search for Ursa that fails. We see Zuko take charge as a leader and Azula’s uncertainty in the world and after her breakdown. Azula manages to give the group the slip at the end and head off on her own. Through out the season Zuko and the gaang face threats to the throne and the questions over the colonies and other conquered territory. Azula joins up with the bad guys and it’s a question of if she is truly with them. Half way through she is betrays them and saves Zuko and the gaang and rejoins the group as fully redeemed and accepted. Later half is her becoming friends with Ty Lee and Mai again. The season ends with them finding Ursa and the Fire Nation people staying behind as the gaang head to the Earth Kingdom, though they still show up for arcs and episodes in upcoming seasons.

Season five is earth and focused on Toph and Earth Kingdom politics. Toph is working towards teaching metal bending and opening up her own academy. They fight rouge Fire Nation units and the like. But also succession of Bumi’s rule of Omashu is explored and the Dai Li continued rule in Ba Sing Se. As inner turmoil still besets Ba Sing Se we see them try and help King Kuei become the leader he needs to be. Perhaps if we are feeling bold we can question the full extent of the White Lotus interest in the city and if it is for the good of the Earth Kingdom or self interest. Jet and the other freedom fighters make a return and can play the hero’s when the gaang needs them. The season ends with Toph going home, being accepted by her parents and opening up her academy where we say goodbye to her.

Season six, the final season, we are left with just Sokka, Katara, and Aang. With a focus split between Aang looking for his people and Sokka and Katara trying to restore theirs. We see Sokka become a strong leader and growing into his own and becoming ready to pick up the mantle of chief when his father is ready to move on, perhaps even taking it for awhile when his father is injured. Katara searches out for SWT bending texts and she takes up Hama as a master where we have a redemption arc for Hama (or better yet this is our first introduction to her character and other survivors of the death camps). Aang continues his search for his people with hints of them being out their but ever elusive. The climax for the season is the village being once again strong and they are able to resist an invasion by either Pirates or former Fire Navy, showing their renewed strength. But we have another episode to close off the show. Probably just an extended Iroh’s tea shop episode where we see everyone that we have been saying by to for the past three seasons one last time (happy Azula with her Mom!). For the very end we see Aang say goodbye to everyone leaving by himself only for the final shot to be of him finding a surviving Air Nomad.

Let me know what y’all think. This was just my first idea and playing with mirroring the first three seasons onto the past three seasons. Though their are probably better ways to tell a story. I’m particularly worried of not enough going on and cutting back the cast as we get closer to the end.

#Wiskey answers #anon #atla #avatar the last aribender #what if it had six seasons #might be hard to stretch it that far #i think four seasons is best #it doesn’t feel quite right that it ended with three #azula #zuko #toph #Sokka #Katara #Aang

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gremlingottoosilly · 7 months

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I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin.

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm.

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after.

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well.

— I’ll find something to eat, alright?

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged.

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you.

— Ah…your father is at home?

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was.

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you.

— You didn’t tell him about me?

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly.

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh.

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart.

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home.

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed.

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen.

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid.

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished.

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel.

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son.

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl.

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it?

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years.

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like.

— Ja. You can have it.

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it.

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you.

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him.

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home.

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you.

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom.

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you.

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet.

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz.

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce.

— What do you mean by this, sir?

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally.

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid.

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship.

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you.

König is.

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you.

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man.

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this.

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father.

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too.

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir.

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing.

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all.

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks.

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies.

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right?

You look like a good candidate.

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz.

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left.

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here.

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body.

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him.

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is.

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway.

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all.

— I don’t want to break his heart.

— He doesn’t have one.

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it.

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted.

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game.

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later.

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum.

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please”

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable.

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later.

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before.

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people.

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right.

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore.

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid.

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second.

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this.

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it.

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed.

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good.

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father.

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it?

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul.

— I’ll tell him.

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck.

— I need to return to my dorm.

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja?

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right.

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen.

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked.

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are.

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja?

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes.

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #yandere cod #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere x reader

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yanderenightmare · 3 months

Text

TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere, stalking

gn reader

There’s something very off about your roommate… something eerie that makes you keep your distance.

You can’t describe exactly what it was about the boy except that you felt it from the second you shook his hand. The way he introduced himself… you don’t know… you had this unshakable feeling as though he already knew you from somewhere.

It’s a weird thought to have of someone you’d only just met. You knew you were probably just being paranoid. It was your first time sharing your space with someone other than family, so it might very well just have been you being apprehensive.

Not that you’d ever let it show, though. You didn’t want things between the two of you to be awkward when you’d be living together for the next three years of getting your degree.

You just needed to get used to him, is what you told yourself.

So you laughed at his jokes and listened to his brags with a polite smile as though nothing was wrong, even when he continued being strange.

For starters, he had almost nothing to unpack – as though he only planned to stay about a month or two. Everything seemed newly bought as well – unused and sterile, like a movie set.

You don’t know… maybe he was a minimalist even though he didn’t seem the type.

It shouldn't really have made your skin crawl the way it did. But whether it made sense or not, you couldn’t shake the discomfort – walking around in a constant wariness of him.

Everything about him seemed like a half-assed theatre act.

You’d see him in the lecture hall, walking from here to there, buying strawberry milk from the vending machines. His textbooks remained piled on his desk in your shared dorm room – but you’d never seen any one of them open. And when curiosity and suspicion made you flip up one of his notebooks, you found it was all blank except for a few shitty doodles on the first page. You never see him cram for exams or writing any papers. You don’t think you’ve ever even seen him pull a laptop out of his bag.

It’s like he isn't a student at all…

And something about the rest of his performance just rubs you the wrong way.

It’s as though he’s practiced all his facial expressions in the mirror – as though he’s studied social cues and body language in a human behavior manual instead of having learned them naturally. It makes you uneasy – how his smile is always a bit too wide and a bit too stiff to be genuine and how all his words are like dialogue off a script.

Somehow, it feels as though he’s wearing a second skin – hiding something… something that’s not quite right on the inside.

It grosses you out when he tries flirting with you. But you do your best to hide it. Brushing him off by changing the topic, inviting other friends when he asks to eat lunch together, laughing off his attempts as though he’s making jokes – always excusing yourself when you end up alone with him for too long.

You try to avoid him as much as you can. Pretending to study when you’re in the dorm together – and otherwise going to bed early.

He tells you he’ll see you at the party later when you leave to pregame with some friends. You can only muster a smile and a curt “Sure.” before leaving.

As for seeing each other later – you hope you don’t.

But of course you do. You can’t seem to escape him. Everywhere you go, he follows.

It doesn’t help that all your friends think he’s so hot, immediately calling him over, gushing over him as though he’s some type of celebrity. They don’t understand your reservation – if they were you, they’d have fucked him the first night of moving in together.

It’s not like you don’t find him attractive as well. You admit he is ridiculously handsome, and if the circumstances were different, you’d say you lucked out being assigned the same dorm room as him.

But as it were – he gives you the same feeling as spotting a spider.

He’s got his arm slung around your shoulder as the two of you walk back together.

He had a little bit too much to drink… And despite your thoughts about him, even you didn’t have the heart to say no when he was practically hanging off of you – cheeks dusted pink with his mothlike lashes droopy, drunkenly mumbling while blinking up at you with those awfully bright eyes, asking you to take him home and tuck him in.

“Ugh...” You sigh.

It’s a struggle carrying the nearly two-meter-tall boy, almost having to drag him down the hallway before stopping short at your door. He’s drooling on your shoulder with murmurs of sleep as you search for the key – not exactly sober yourself.

When inside, his bigger body presses you against the closed door – his face buried in the grove of your neck with slurred words.

“Dude.” You state with a grimace – as if saying his name was too much of a burden – sighing as you haul him off with the same exasperation of a parent putting an unruly child to bed.

Ducking beneath his arm, you leave him kissing the door – thinking to yourself how you really should put him to bed before he can embarrass himself any further.

You open your mouth to tell him when his temper finally makes him grab your arm a little harder than intended.

“This isn't how this is supposed to go.”

You flinch instinctively, and his grip tightens in return. “Hey?”

You can’t see his face with the way he’s got his head bowed. But you don’t like the snuff growl that passes under his breath as he utters the next words.

“Why are you so difficult?”

You do more than flinch this time, yanking yourself out of his harsh grip before he can apologize for it – taking on a deliberate offensive stance.

With your feet squared and your hands up to keep him at a distance, you look ready to try fending him off.

Something about it seems premeditated – something in the wary way you eye him. You don’t even look all that surprised – as if you had suspected this side of him existed all along and had only been waiting for it to surface.

Oddly, t feels like something you’ve kept secret from him – as though you’ve acted comfortable all this time when, in reality, you’ve been clutching your mental pearls.

He realizes then why you haven’t returned his affection – why all you’ve ever given him is cold-hearted rejection…

Of course. It’s obvious now – so obvious it’s funny. Even though he’s been the one parading around like someone else, it feels as though you’ve been doing the exact same thing around him – hiding your discomfort behind a sweet smile – hiding it so well that not even his keen eyes have picked up on it…

But it’s clear now….

You’ve both been playing a game of pretend – just a pair of perfect strangers – who've now shared their hand. Leaving you both feeling naked – raw out in the cold – just waiting for the next move.

“I guess the gig is up, huh?” He rasps, fingers twitching at his sides – looking ready to pounce.

You couldn’t defend why you'd kept the pepper spray in the drawer of your nightstand – but you were glad you had. Rushing for it, hands shaking as you pulled the handle and grabbed the bottle – twisting around and spraying it right in the face of your roommate.

He cries out from the attack, clutching his face with both hands – staggering back with a series of gruff curse words.

Still, he guards the door – preventing your escape.

The groaning turns to croaks instead, and you think he might be crying. It’s tough to see through the hands covering his eyes – but when he looks back up again, despite the red burns left by your pepper spray on his puffy teary cheeks, he’s got a smile on his face.

He’s not crying – he’s laughing – as the hand covering his face slowly drags down the crazed expression – over crazed eyes, bloodshot and wet, staring at you through the gaps between his fingers.

The look alone is enough to give you goosebumps.

But when you try to make a run for it, he grabs you again – and this time, you’re not able to shake him off. It feels as though the tight grip splinters your skin as he pulls you back – shoving you down against your bed.

“Can’t say it hasn’t been fun, roomie. But I’m not completely satisfied yet.”

He’s on top of you before you get a kick in – pinning your wrists above your head as he leans over you – bright eyes gleaming with that sickness you’d almost convinced yourself you’d been imagining. You opt to shout, but he’s soon got his other hand clasped tight over the bottom half of your face before you get a sound out.

“You were supposed to fall in love with me, you know?” His voice is airy as though he’s confessing – but also on the brink of laughter as though he’s telling a joke in class. “That’s how it goes in the movies.”

You swallow beneath his hand – eyes peeled, heart beating so hard it hurts.

His eyes wander – roaming your neck and chest. It’s awfully quiet before he speaks again. “But I suppose we can act out a different plot line...”

You whimper at his suggestive tone – already feeling the weight of his intentions bearing down on you, crushing you free of air.

“I like romcoms, but horror stories have their charm, too...”

You shudder beneath the warmth of his breath, screaming into his palm once his warm lips mouth your throat, sucking on the tender skin with tongue and teeth in between words.

“An unfortunate college student finds themself moving into the same dorm as their unhinged stalker…”

There’s a thrill in his tone – something crazed and terrifying as he goes on.

“The two play a psychological game of endurance, trying to balance college and privacy while sharing the same space...”

Something hard and gross steadily ruts against your thigh. His voice gets thicker – breath hotter on your neck. The kisses turn sloppy. Tears burn your cheeks.

“Everything seems to lead up to a party held before Spring break, a fateful night on which their endurance finally runs out.”

He groans, and you sob.

“A rejected kiss, a can of pepper spray, a shared bed. What happens next?”

JJK – Gojo, Yuta

BNHA – Hawks, Denki, Kirishima

HQ – Miya twins

CSM – Yoshida

BLLK - Nagi

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hollandsangel · 2 months

Text

voice | m. sturniolo

i had this idea a million years ago, please enjoy!!

summary: chris wonders if you can tell his and matt’s voice apart

warnings: super fluffy!! a bit suggestive at the very end, i’m questioning if it’s good or not

wc: 1.6k

gif by @mattsturnioloarchive !

“i call shower first!” you exclaim the second the garage door is open, sprinting past matt up the stairs to his bathroom.

“there’s three showers,” chris says matter-of-factly as you blow past him on the steps, holding a hand out in confusion.

matt sighs and follows behind you, passing chris as well, “yeah, but you don’t have to share,”

you’re already on the mainfloor, running into matt’s bedroom to grab the change of clothes you’d left earlier.

“i’m so glad i don’t have a girlfriend,” chris mutters, earning a smack upside the head from nick, “jesus, fuck, what,”

“you’re just annoying,” nick says, deciding it’s a good enough explanation and getting a laugh out of matt.

“agreed,” matt’s still chuckling when they reach the kitchen table, setting down the take out the four of you had gotten on your way back to the house. he hears the water turn on in his bathroom, accompanied by the soft sound of your voice as you sing along to your music.

“oh she’s a nicki fan,” nick says to no one in particular, referencing the tik tok sound when he notices you’re listening to a nicki minaj song.

matt looks up from the bag of food and laughs.

chris sinks into the couch but looks over at matt, arm slung over the cushions, “i wonder if she could tell our voices apart,” he says after a second.

“what?” matt asks, thinking the question is mildy rediculous.

“like do you think she could recognize your voice?” chris explains, wandering into the kitchen now. opening a pepsi and leaning up against the counter.

nick chimes in now, having been fiddling with the vlog camera and battery, “like compared to you and me?” he asks chris, glancing back at matt as if to say ‘is this guy for real?’

“yeah,” chris nods.

“yeah, obviously she’d be able to tell my voice apart from yours,” matt is looking back at the food again, tone matter-of-fact, as if what he’d said was absolute common sense.

chris is quiet for about half a second and matt thinks that’s the end of that absurd conversation. it isn’t, of course.

“should we test it out?” chris asks through a sip of soda.

matt officially gives up on trying to set the food up, throwing his hands up in mock surrender before turning to chris, “and how are we gonna do that?”

chris shrugs, but nick has an idea, “chris, you could like, just go ask her for something, if you left something in the bathroom—“

“absolutely not,” matt shuts it down immediately with a shake of his head, “you're not going in the bathroom when my girlfriend is showering,”

“i won’t even go all the way in!! i’ll cover my eyes,” chris promises, but matt is still skeptical. “i’ll just like poke my head in the door and ask if i left like..a belt or some shit in there,” is chris’ next offer.

matt sighs and thinks about it, weighing the pros and cons. of course you can tell his voice apart from his brothers…right? he’s making himself nervous, pysching himself out and worrying they all sound the same to you. it upsets him for some reason, he can’t quite decide why.

“fine,” he agrees after a beat of silence, convincing himself you know whis voice well enough to separate it from chris’, and if you can’t, he thinks he might actually feel a sick twinge of unjustified jealousy.

“yes,” chris mutters under his breath, always excited to pull a prank on anyone.

“this is definitely going in the vlog,” nick says, still messing with the camera and coming to sit at the kitchen table where matt is now.

“i can’t believe i agreed to this,” matt mumbles, rubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath. he stands from his seat and walks over to the wall where he can see the bathroom door, feeling some what protective, like he needs to supervise chris to make sure he doesn’t wander too far into the bathroom.

“what should i say?” chris turns back arms pulled in close to his body as if he’s nervous. he’s already grinning and trying to keep from laughing.

“ooh, call her sweetheart, matt always does that,” nick suggests, wiggling his brows in matt’s direction to tease him.

“oh my god,” matt groans softly, rubbing at his eyes, “i fucking hate you guys,”

“okay, i’m going in,” matt drops his hands at that, eyes on his brother immediately. chris puts a hand over his eyes, just as he said he said he would before knocking on the door. nick has the camera out to record and is trying to stifle his laugh in the collar of his hoodie.

at the sound of the knock matt hears your voice, calling out for him, no doubt thinking it’s him at the door. he has to cover his mouth, partly out of nerves but also to keep himself from saying anything.

“yeah,” chris starts, needing to take a second before continuing because he’s already making himself laugh. “yeah, sweetheart, did i leave my belt in here?” he asks, barely stood in the doorway of the bathroom.

“uhh, i think it’s in your bedroom?” you say after a slight pause, about to poke your head out from behind the shower curtain, but chris has already mumbled a ‘thanks’ and essentially sprinted out of the bathroom, closing the door and crumbling to the floor in giggles.

“you’re not fucking real,” matt shakes his head, laughing softly himself and pushing off the wall to go back to the kitchen table. he’s a bit bummed that you didn’t realize it wasn’t his voice, but he keeps that to himself.

nick pans the camera over to matt’s face, which seems expressionless, even with both his brothers cackling outside of the frame.

you come out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, heading into matt’s bedroom to drop the clothes you’d changed out of. matt is instantly sitting back up, the legs of his chair scraping along the hardwood floors.

“ooh, someone’s pissed,” nick turns the camera to himself, eyeing the now closed door.

“that was too fucking good,” chris says after a deep breath, still recovering from laughing so hard. he pulls a chair out next to nick and the two start to explain what had happened to the camera, eyes flicking up to matt’s door every few seconds.

in the bedroom you’re putting your dirty clothes back into your bag when matt comes in, looking a little bit pouty, “hey baby,” you turn towards him, laughing at the slightly pathetic look he gives you, “what’s up?” you wonder.

“m’ tired,” he tells you, slumping up against you for a hug. you wrap your arms around him and rub his back, letting him lay his weight into you.

“we’ll eat and go to bed, yeah?” you give his back another little pat when he nods against you, “mkay, let’s go,” you kiss his cheek quickly, only to have him turn his head in search of a real kiss. you oblige of course.

nick and chris have already started eating and updating the vlog on their day when you and matt come out of the bedroom. matt joins them at the table but you head for the fridge to grab a drink. “oh, did you find your belt?” you ask matt, still digging around.

“what?— oh yeah” he mumbles, gaze turned down to his fries.

“okay good. by the way you sounded so much like chris when you came in— it freaked me the fuck out” you say with your head in the fridge, still searching for the diet coke you know you left inside the door, “did one of you drink my coke–”

“wait what?” matt’s head snaps up, food forgotten.

“hmm?” you turn around to find all three boys looking at you. nick’s mouth open in a half smile and chris clearly trying not to burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. matt’s just staring at you with eyes a little bit too wide before he speaks up.

“what do you mean i sounded weird?” he asks, leaning forward. you notice nick’s shut up about whatever he was saying to the camera earlier, pointing the lens at you now.

“i dunno, when you said sweetheart it just sounded super fucking weird— why are you guys looking at me like that–” you have to ask, feeling slightly weirded out by the intensity of their gazes

“i knew it!!” matt cheers, punching the air and doing a silly little dance as nick doubles over and starts hitting the table.

chris’ jaw drops and he presses his fingers into his eyes as he laughs next to his brother, leaning on him.

matt bounds over to you with a grin, arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the ground slightly.

“whaaaat,” you giggle, clearly confused by their reaction.

“it was me,” chris manages to say between bouts of laughter, “we– we were trying to see if you could tell our voices apart.”

“of course i can tell your voices apart, especially your voice,” you turn towards matt, saying it like it should be obvious, like it’s silly they doubted you for even a second.

matt’s just grinning at you, feeling a strange sense of pride swelling in his chest, “i knew you could,”

“bullshit!” chris exclaims, both him and nick still leaning against each other as they laugh.

“he’s right, you were freaked the fuck out,” nick manages to say between giggles, “you watched chris like a fucking hawk when he opened the bathroom door,” he looks over at you, his smile contagious, “he was definitely freaked the fuck out,”

matt groans and drops his head against your shoulder. you brush your fingers through his hair and chuckle to yourself, “awe matt,” you coo, “i definitely know your voice, i’ll probably be hearing lots of it later anyways.”

tags ! @st4rswrld @urfavvev3lyn @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears @its-jennarose

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt struniolo x you #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo

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vroomvro0mferrari · 1 month

Text

LN4 | Panic at the Disco

Summary: When you call your brother to pick you up from the club, it's his best friend who answers.

Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader

WC: 1.3K

Warnings: Maybe slight panic attack, insinuated sexual harassment/assault

Part 2

Masterlist

You rush through the club in a hurry, bumping into God knows how many people as you search for the exit. The hot, stuffy air makes it even more difficult to breathe as you keep pushing through the crowd. You can feel the wetness of your tears run down your cheeks as you reach the exit, nearly running into the bouncer checking IDs outside. You stand close to him as you wipe your cheeks and sniffle, trying to calm yourself down while you rummage through your purse in search of your phone. Taking a deep breath, you call your brother.

You wait impatiently as the phone rings. He doesn’t answer, so you call again. And again. Eventually, after three tries, the phone is picked up.

“Hello? Max?” You say rushedly.

You hear some noise on the other side. In your frenzy, you don’t realise it’s not your brother, not from the mere grumpy hello the phone is answered with.

“Can you come pick me up? Please?” The sheer panic you’re experiencing is clear in your voice. Lando can even hear your sniffling through the phone as you wipe your hand under your nose.

“Y/N? Is that you? Are you crying?” He asks, much more awake now as he sits up from his position on the couch.

“Who’s this? Lando?” You realise now that you hear him speak; it's your brother’s best friend – to your frustration.

“Yes”

“Why are you answering my brother’s phone?” You ask annoyed.

“We were just hanging out, he fell asleep and-”

“You know what – it doesn’t matter. Can you tell him to come pick me up please?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m not sure, uhm, it’s called Palace, I think.” You sniffle, “You’ll send him to get me?” You ask hopefully.

“I’ll come get you myself. I’m just putting my shoes on, I’ll be there in a bit.” He says, putting your brother’s phone on speaker mode and stepping into his shoes.

“Lando you don’t have to come, just tell Max to come pick me up, please. I need him right now.” You say, frustrated that Lando wants to come. He’s not who you want and need at this moment; you need someone who you can trust, who’ll protect you and make you feel safe after what just happened. You need your brother, a close friend, or maybe even your father, but not Lando. Why can’t he understand that? You can feel your tears welling up again in frustration.

Lando ignores you, however. “Are you safe right now? You should try to find a group of people or something, stick to them until I get there, okay?”

“Lan-” He cuts you off, in a rush to get to you.

“Do you want to stay on the phone? I’m getting in the car right now, I’ll be there in, like, eight minutes.”

“Lando, just send Max, please.”

“I’m already in the car. Do you want me to stay on the line, or not?” You hear the car revving in the background.

You sigh. Nevertheless, you’re relieved he’s on his way and you don’t have to stay here much longer. “That’s not necessary, Lando. I’m with the bouncer right now. Just come quick, please?” You’ve given up on the idea that your brother might come, Lando’s very much set in his ways.

“Of course, I’ll be right there.” Lando says firmly before hanging up.

Although you and Lando aren’t the best of friends, you get along well enough. Regardless, you get caught up in discussions quite regularly; both of you are passionate and stubborn in your opinions – it rarely happens that you and Lando do not end up being separated by your brother or a mutual friend. However, that you know exactly how to push each other's buttons doesn’t mean Lando doesn’t care about you. In fact, the opposite is true. Although he would never admit it, Lando has liked you for quite a while and cares for you deeply, even though he doesn’t generally show his feelings. And so, when you call him (well, not him specifically, but that doesn’t matter) crying and upset, he worries about you. He could’ve woken up your brother, who you obviously would have preferred over him, but he wants to be the one who’s there for you. He wants to be the one who protects you and keeps you safe – better yet, the one who makes you feel safe, if he could ever accomplish such a thing.

Lando exceeds his own expectations when he arrives at the nightclub in under five minutes. Already spotting you standing with the big, bulky bouncer, arms wrapped around yourself in an attempt to keep yourself warm in the cold, late night (or early morning) breeze. He carelessly parked his car on the side of the road, barely turning on the hazard lights before exiting the car.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” He jogs towards the club entrance, concern showing on his face.

You lifted your head at the familiar voice yelling your name. Quickly thanking the bouncer who kept you company, you rushed over to the familiar boy. You had never been so happy to see Lando.

He pulled you into his arms as soon as you were within his reach. Cradling your head and brushing your hair with one hand, while the other pulled you closer by your waist. Although you initially wanted your brother to come, this was good too – you’d even go as far as to say you were enjoying it. Despite your differences, Lando’s presence (more specifically, his strong arms holding you tight) made you feel at ease and calmed you down. He relieved the tenseness of your body and you relaxed in his hold. Hiding your face in his neck and fisting the fabric of his shirt, you nestled yourself comfortably in Lando’s body and exhaled the breath you had been holding.

He buried his nose in your hair on the top of your head, breathing in your scent and smiling at the feeling of you snuggling into him. It felt right, so right, to be holding you like this. He whispers, “Are you okay?” You merely nod your head, not wanting to leave his embrace. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” He questions further.

You stay silent, enjoying Lando’s strong hold on you. It makes you feel safe. Safe enough to share what happened in the club. “There was some random guy who thought he was entitled to my attention.” You mumble into his neck.

“He didn’t touch you, did he?” He continues, already fearing the answer.

You let a silence fall before answering, “He did,”

Lando squeezes you tighter at the revelation. He’s not surprised a man ruined your fun night out.

You continue quickly, “But there were some girls who helped me, and I think they kicked him out. I’m not sure though, I left as soon as I could. Then I called Max, but he didn’t answer, and now…”

“I’m sorry,” Lando says, a pained expression on his face. “Men are shit.”

You let out a small laugh and Lando can barely avoid shivering at the feeling of your warm breath hitting the sensitive skin of his neck. Nevertheless, he smiles in accomplishment when he hears the sound, glad he could cheer you up.

“You want to go home? To my place, I mean, Max is there…”

“Yes,” You say into Lando’s neck, sighing before distancing yourself from him.

He kisses the top of your head before letting you leave his hold, “Let’s go then.” He says, pulling you along to his car, still tucked into his side.

– – – – –

Part 2

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syoddeye · 19 days

Text

john price x f!reader thing. unedited. ~600 words.

john price finds a dent in the driver’s door and a note tucked under a wiper.

sorry i can’t afford to pay, please forgive me x

and he’s angry, of course. who wouldn’t be? piece of shit. then he registers the looping handwriting and the little heart in the corner. interesting. he pulls the cctv. lo and behold, there she is. the culprit. some stumbling drunk buffoon.

you probably shouldn’t have nabbed an e-scooter when you were three sheets to the wind, but you did, and fuck, you’re paying for it. you genuinely feel bad about the dent you left in the parked car last night, but you think a broken wrist and three stitches in your lip is more than enough punishment, thanks. you groan, remembering how you tossed the scooter into a bush and hiked a few streets away before calling 999. having to clock in for an opening shift added insult to injury.

he imagines it’s rough going, working an espresso machine with a busted wrist. he supposes the manager didn’t want her as the cashier given the lip. pity, the swelling and stitches aside, she’s quite cute. but serves her right.

he wonders how she’ll react when he picks up his coffee and procures the printed still of her face, clear as day, fleeing from the scene of the crime.

he should feel bad, considering her injuries and what a barista job pays, but. it’s the principle of the thing.

“rough night?” he asks, hovering at the end of the bar.

“huh? oh, yeah. could say that,” she smiles tiredly. it’s a little strained, but still warm. “pity partied too hard.”

john’s smirk flattens. “pity party?”

“yeah,” she shrugs. “series of unfortunate events.”

like running into my car?

“what, bad date?” he jokes carefully, hiding behind a friendly grin.

“ha, guess so. it was supposed to be an anniversary dinner.” she explains dryly, looking all the more defeated as she tamps the grounds.

“supposed to be?”

she glances up, locking in the portafilter with a crank of her good arm. she finally looks a little suspicious of him. smart. “yeah.”

“i don’t mean to pry. you just seem like you could use a vent.” solid recovery.

it works. she considers a moment, shrugs again, and nods as she pulls the shot. “guess so,” she licks her lip and looks back, evidently deeming him harmless. not smart.

“found out he was cheating, called him on it, and he stormed out. after we ordered.”

that’s. that’s not what he expected. but it stirs something oddly protective. john’s a bit old-fashioned, he’s the first to admit it, so to hear about a man carrying himself so poorly? a man running around on a pretty thing like her?

it doesn’t sit well with him. car be damned.

“so how’d you…” he prompts, nodding at the cast.

“oh, yeah, we ordered some fancy wine. i drank most of the bottle alone, sobbing,” she cracks a self-deprecating smile and it dislodges something in his chest. “but the server didn’t charge me for dessert. i, uh, fell on my way home.”

crashed. you crashed into my car.

“sounds terrible.”

“it was. the whole night was. anyway.” she pauses to slide a pen from her apron to write on the cup. “americano to go?” she asks, pushing the drink over the counter, eyes floating to the next order.

john spots the same little heart, the looping letters. he looks back at her, plugging along despite the clear heartache and injuries. he sighs, crumpling the print out in his pocket.

“think i’ll have it to stay, actually,” he mumbles, knowing she doesn’t hear him as she makes the next drink.

he camps out at a table where he can watch her. there’s a dent in his car, but he’s decided there’s a barista-sized hole in his life.

#john price #price is right #price x f!reader #price x female reader #no I don’t know what this is either #self-indulgent tbh #why can’t I have met john price when I was a drunk barista #we love readers taking Ls around here #also I bet cctv footage is ass but in fic land it’s not pls forgive me

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pucksandpower · 2 months

Text

Just a Taste

Max Verstappen x best friend!Reader

Summary: you quickly learn that there’s more to the chocolates you devoured than meets the eye

Warnings: 18+ content, dubious consent (thanks to aphrodisiac chocolates)

You knock on Max’s front door, balancing a tray with four large lattes in your arms. “Max!” You call out, “It’s me!”

No response. You frown, knowing he’s usually back from his morning run by now. Shifting the drinks to one arm, you pull out your key and let yourself in.

“Max?” You call out again as you kick the door closed behind you. Still no answer.

You make your way to the kitchen and put the coffees down on the counter. Every Sunday morning you and Max have brunch together, a tradition you’ve kept up for years, ever since you became friends as kids.

As you take a sip of frothy caffeine, your stomach rumbles loudly. You glance at the clock — you’re a bit early today, so Max probably hasn’t returned yet.

Looking around, you spot a pink box on the counter that you don’t recognize. Curious, you open it up to find a dozen chocolates inside. A small note card reads:

For when you finally meet someone special - Lando

You chuckle to yourself, trust Lando to tease Max about being perpetually single. Popping one of the chocolates in your mouth, you savor the rich sweetness that melts on your tongue. Before you know it, you’ve eaten three more. They’re just so good! Max won’t mind if you have a few, right?

You’re nibbling on a fifth chocolate when warmth blooms through your body. You feel … tingly all over. And is it just you or did the room get brighter? You blink a few times then shake your head, trying to clear the sudden haze that’s settled over your mind.

Just then, the front door opens and Max calls out, “Y/N? You here already?”

“In the kitchen!” You reply, your voice coming out breathier than normal. You feel hot and flushed now, your skin ultra sensitive. What was in those chocolates?

Max enters the kitchen and stops short when he sees you leaning against the counter, breathing heavily. “Whoa, are you okay?” His brow furrows in concern as he takes in your disheveled appearance.

You stare at him, suddenly unable to form a coherent thought beyond how good he looks right now, sweaty from his run in just a compression top and shorts. You’ve always thought Max was cute of course, but now an almost uncontrollable urge to touch him overtakes you.

“Y/N?” Max prompts again, stepping closer and seeing the open box of chocolates beside you. “Did you … oh no. You ate from the pink box, didn’t you?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Max runs a hand through his hair. “Those were from Lando, they’re infused with … let’s just say they have special effects. I told him it was a stupid gift idea.”

He moves towards you but you back away quickly. “D-don’t,” you stammer out, worried what might happen if he gets too close right now.

Understanding dawns on Max’s face. “It’s alright, just try to stay calm. Come on, let’s go sit down.”

He gently grasps your arm and leads you to the living room couch. You sink down onto the soft cushions, resting your head against the back and closing your eyes. Your skin is on fire, you shift restlessly as desire coils hotly inside you.

Max sits down on the other end of the sofa. “This will pass, just ride it out,” he says soothingly.

You crack open your eyes to look at him. His face is etched with concern and something else you can’t quite place. “Max,” you breathe out his name like a plea.

He swallows hard. You’ve never wanted someone as much as you want Max in this moment. Scooting closer to him, you reach out a hand to touch his cheek.

Max inhales sharply at your contact but doesn’t pull away. His eyes search yours questioningly.

“Please Max, I need you,” the words fall desperately from your lips before you can stop them.

Max’s eyes widen in surprise before darkening with unmistakable desire. He’s silent for a long moment, emotions playing across his face as he struggles with indecision. You hold your breath, heart hammering in your chest.

Finally Max moves, shifting forward to close the small gap between you. His hand comes up to cradle your cheek tenderly as his eyes lock with yours.

“Are you sure?” He asks softly.

You answer by surging forward to capture his lips in a heated kiss. Max responds immediately, mouth moving urgently against yours. His arms wrap around you, pulling you against his strong chest.

You sigh into the kiss, hands tangling into his hair. His lips are even softer than you imagined. You swipe your tongue along his bottom lip and Max parts them with a low groan.

As the kiss deepens, your desperation mounts. You need more, need to be closer. Straddling his lap, you rock your hips against his, feeling his growing arousal.

Max breaks the kiss with a gasp. “We should stop, the effects will wear off soon,” he protests weakly.

“Don’t want to stop,” you murmur, trailing kisses down his neck. You nip at his pulse point and Max lets out a strangled moan, resolve clearly wavering.

His hands grip your hips tightly as you continue to move against him. “We shouldn’t, not like this,” he tries again, but you silence him with another heated kiss.

You pull back just enough to meet his gaze. “Max, I want this. I want you. Not just because of the chocolates. I’ve always wanted you.”

Max’s eyes widen at your confession, before a vulnerable smile spreads across his face. “I’ve wanted you too, for so long,” he admits softly.

Cupping your face in both hands, he kisses you tenderly. When you eventually break apart, foreheads resting together, Max asks “Are you sure this is what you want? I don’t want you to regret anything.”

You smile and take his hand, rising from the couch and pulling him up with you.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” you tell him sincerely. “Now take me to bed.”

His eyes darken and he laces his fingers through yours. “Gladly,” he murmurs, before leading you towards his bedroom and kicking the door shut behind you.

As soon as the door clicks closed, Max presses you up against it, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His hands roam your body eagerly as your own fumble to push his shirt up and off him.

Breaking the kiss, Max trails his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. You gasp and arch into him, nails raking down his bare back.

Needing more, you reach for the hem of your own shirt but Max stops you.

“Let me,” he says huskily, grasping the fabric and lifting it up tantalizingly slowly to reveal your skin inch by inch. He pulls the shirt over your head and tosses it aside before returning his heated gaze to you.

Reaching behind you, Max deftly unhooks your bra, letting it slip from your shoulders to the floor. He hovers over you, grey eyes burning with desire as they rake over your newly exposed skin. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers reverently before ducking his head to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck and chest.

Leaning in, he kisses down between your breasts before capturing a nipple in his mouth. You cry out, hands coming up to grip his hair tightly. He lavishes attention on your breasts until you are squirming against him desperately.

Sensing your need, Max scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the bed. He lays you down gently against the rumpled sheets before settling over you, the hard planes of his body pressing deliciously against your own softer ones.

You kiss feverishly as you fumble with the drawstring of his shorts, shoving them down impatiently. Max kicks them off before reaching for the button of your jeans. Soon the last barriers between you are gone.

Max trails heated open-mouthed kisses down your stomach until he reaches the apex of your thighs. He looks up at you questioningly and you nod eagerly. You arch up into his touch, gasping and tangling your hands in his hair.

“Please Max,” you beg desperately, needing more.

At the first touch of his mouth on your most intimate area, you cry out his name, hands twisting into the sheets. He takes his time exploring you with his lips and tongue until you are writhing and gasping beneath him.

When you feel yourself teetering on the edge, you breathlessly beg Max to be inside you. Needing no further encouragement, he moves back up your body, positioning himself at your entrance.

He pauses, meeting your gaze. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he says huskily before finally joining your bodies in one smooth motion. You both moan at the feeling of completion.

Max sets a steady rhythm, angling his hips until he finds the spot that makes you see stars. You feel the pressure building rapidly within you. Sensing you’re close, Max increases his pace. His thumb rubs tight circles over that sensitive bundle of nerves until you shatter around him with a cry. He follows right after, burying his face in your neck and groaning your name as he finds his own release.

You cling to each other as you come down, trading soft kisses and whispers of affection. Eventually Max rolls off of you, gathering you close against his chest.

“That was incredible,” Max murmurs, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. “You are incredible.”

You smile up at him adoringly. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He grins and squeezes you tight. You drift off curled safely in the arms of the man you’ve always loved, happier than you’ve ever been.

***

The next morning, you wake up to find your legs tangled with the man beside you. Last night had been incredible, even better than your wildest fantasies.

You feel Max begin to stir. Turning in his arms to face him, you meet his sleepy gaze.

“Morning,” Max smiles at you, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His expression turns serious. “How are you feeling?”

You know he’s asking about more than just the effects of the chocolates. You lift a hand to caress his cheek reassuringly.

“I’ve never been happier,” you tell him honestly.

Max’s face breaks into a radiant grin. He kisses you softly before pulling you tightly against his chest. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent.

“I’m so glad you feel the same way,” Max whispers into your hair. “I’ve wanted to tell you how I felt for so long but I didn’t want to risk our friendship if you didn’t feel the same.”

You lift your head to meet his gaze. “Well you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” you say, leaning in to kiss him languidly.

When you eventually break apart, Max smirks at you. “Remind me to send Lando a thank you card.”

You laugh and snuggle back into his embrace, making a mental note to pick up another box of those chocolates. Just in case.

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xxsabitoxx · 4 months

Text

Okkotsu Yuta NSFW A-Z

Part of my 20k follower celebration (past due)

Warnings: if it isn’t abundantly clear, this is smut :)

A/N: in honor of hitting 20k followers a while back, I’m going to be posting 10 NSFW alphabets for JJK men - here is scheduled post number 13 :)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Yuta’s aftercare is perfect in every possible way. This man puts so much effort into making sure you are comfortable, clean, and happy after sex. He’ll usually always run you a bath, even if you are exhausted. He’ll carry you into the bathroom and get in the tub with you. He takes the time to fill it with epsom salts and calming aroma scents like lavender and eucalyptus. He’ll massage your body wherever you say you’re a bit tender and he’ll make sure to scrub you clean. Yuta feels energized after sex so it’s not surprising that he has so much energy to take care of you. He’ll make sure to dry you off thoroughly and help you dress in the softest of pajamas. He’ll dry and brush your hair for you, get you water and even pain relievers if he thinks you’ll need them.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Yuta is totally infatuated with your chest. He adores everything about it, big, small, flat, doesn’t matter, he’ll spend hours sucking on your chest. Yuta loves to spoon with you, his hands under your shirt and cupping your chest happily, he isn’t even doing it to initiate something with you, he just adores the warmth and softness they offer him. When he’s fucking you, he loves watching your hands scramble to hold your chest because he’s rutting into you too damn hard and causing your whole body to recoil because of it. Which, of course, only makes him work harder.

Yuta is quite shy at first, finding it hard to pinpoint a part of his body that he favors. But, over time, Yuta finds he has a lot of confidence in his arms. Specifically his forearms, because of the way they bulge when he uses his strength to keep you in place. Or maybe when he’s fucking you in front of a mirror and can see the way his arms look wrapped around your waist.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s filthy, in every way possible. Yuta loves seeing you ruined and fucked out, but he also loves seeing you covered in the sticky mess that his cum makes. Honestly, he’ll cum anywhere you want him to. Even then he can’t make the promise that it’ll end up where you want it, he could aim for your chest but end up on your face, he could aim for coming inside and accidentally pull out and spill his load on your sex. It depends how lost he is in the moment.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Yuta really likes when you degrade him and call him mean names. He doesn’t even have an explanation for why it turns him on the way it does but he loves it. That and the fact that he finds you so unbelievably hot when you’re mad at him… which is really rare cause he doesn’t do many things to piss you off. But fighting is inevitable in relationships, and for the two of you it usually ends in marathon sex so he can’t say he doesn’t like arguing either. He tries not to piss you off on purpose… unless he’s really horny and in the mood to get fucked stupid.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Yuta doesn’t have a ton of experience but you’d never guess it. He’s had maybe two or three partners max and only one instance of a one night stand. Still, he’ll get texts from blocked numbers begging for him back because nobody can fuck them like he did. He’ll show you the messages when they come in and let you handle them how you please, he has all he needs right in front of him so he couldn’t care less about texts like that. Needless to say, Yuta not only knows how to make someone feel good, but how to leave a lasting impression.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary, and if you find that boring clearly you’ve been doing it wrong. Yuta adores missionary, I mean he enjoys fucking you in just about every position but there is something so intimate about missionary that drives him up the wall. He loves how close you are, how he can feel your body moving against his, how his weight is making you wheeze and squirm and just produce the prettiest noises he’s ever heard. He loves how he can still kiss you, bite you, and suck hickeys on your neck even when you beg him not to. He loves how he can hear you so perfectly, watching your face contort as you try and hide your cute noises. It’s perfect.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Yuta can be a bit humorous during sex, cracking a few smiles at you and sly comments. It just feels weird for him to be completely serious when with you, even if he’s mad or worked up. Yuta will never fail to pull a smile onto your face as he says something so sweet it nearly makes your teeth ache. He’s such a love bug, especially when he’s being intimate with you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Yuta has a love-hate relationship with his hair down there. He likes to keep it short and neat but sometimes life gets away from him and his hair grows out more than he would like it to. You, for one, don’t care about his hair down there but Yuta can get a bit shy if you’re getting intimate and he hasn’t had time to clean up his groin lmao

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

If you couldn’t tell by his favorite position and his humor, Yuta is very romantic during sex. But romantic in a shy way when you’re first getting into things, as he lets loose, so do his words. You swear Yuta is telling you he loves you every time his hips connect with yours… it’s because he is. He’s nearly lovesick for you as he ruts his hips into you, doesn’t matter if he just saw you this morning, that man misses you and he will make sure you know it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Yuta’s frequency can vary depending on his mood and work schedule. Before meeting you, he would get himself off once a week minimum. Most weeks he’d jerk off a healthy two-three times. Now, the only time he’ll jerk off is if he’s away from you for too long or if he really needs to do stuff and he can’t get it to go down on its own. Yuta also isn’t shy about using toys to get himself off – that means vibrators, pocket pussies, butt plugs oops-

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Master/Slave kink, I will not go into detail on this one I just… I just think he’d like it if you ordered him around and called him a good boy. He’s heavy on dom/sub but he’s easily a switch and enjoys being in either position. Yuta has a mild breeding kink, one that only comes out when he’s really upset… like if you get injured. I’d also say Yuta is into somnophilia because there have been times he returned from a mission and you’re already passed out but he’s worked up. You’ve discussed it before so it’s completely consensual and he finds it so cute when you start making noises in your sleep as he buries his fingers inside to prep you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Yuta loves fucking you on just about any surface but he’s grown quite fond of bathtub sex. Something about the steam filling the room, the hot water, the intimacy of the moment, the urge to be careful in order to not make a mess of the room. There are so many factors that go into fucking in the bathtub that Yuta almost views it as a challenge, which is part of the enjoyment. Yuta is also an avid lover of car sex, for similar reasons to fucking in the bath, he likes the risks that come with it. He finds the possibilities of getting caught or trying not to make an absolute mess to be very fun… plus watching you try and keep quiet is amusing for him.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He’s a sucker for non-sexual intimacy just as he’s a sucker for sexual intimacy. Yuta has absolutely popped a hard-on because you cuddled into him while sitting on the couch. He’s mildly embarrassed about the fact that some of the most innocent touches get him worked up, but he just can’t help how in love he is with you. Yuta is also very obsessed with lingerie, he’ll never expect you to wear it for him or always be wearing cute undergarments. But it’s a real treat for him when you decide to “dress up” in that sense. You may notice him being a tad more handsy with you when you tease him with a lacy waistband peeking above your pants.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hateful, mean, spiteful sex. Anything along the lines of hooking up just to put someone in their place if that makes sense? He can certainly be rough, but it’s out of love and adoration for you. He’s never liked the idea of hook-ups or one night stands, he’s much more into emotions and really caring about someone when sleeping with them.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Yuta is all about your pleasure so it’s not surprising that he has a preference for giving oral. Not to say he doesn't love receiving it, he definitely adores it, but going down on you is almost like a guilty pleasure for him. He’ll go down on you to relieve his own stress, spending hours between your thighs until he is satisfied with how many times you’ve come. His skills came naturally, somehow knowing exactly what to do when he got down there. If you were his first? You’d never guess it, Yuta is very skilled with his tongue… something else that’ll make him blush if you mention it. He’s still shy somehow.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Yuta can and will adjust his pace to your liking, but naturally the man is pretty eager and can start off faster than intended. He learned over time that it is much more gratifying to work his way up to the rougher and faster paces, especially since you’ll start to whine and beg for him to go faster or be rougher. The way you plead with him drives him absolutely wild. When he’s sleepy, worn out from a day's work and still needs to satisfy his cravings of you, Yuta’s hips take a much more languid and sensual roll. He’ll press his lips to your ear so you can hear his breathing struggle as he whispers his love and adoration for you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yeah but also no… he’s conflicted mostly because he can never keep a quickie… quick. Even car sex can span on for twenty minutes if he’s not mindful. He just gets so lost in you and your body, how is he supposed to speed things up when he feels he has all the time in the world?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’ll experiment with you for sure but he will shamelessly research what you want to try before even bringing it into the bedroom. He does this because he wants to make sure it’s safe and something he will also enjoy. But he also does this to make sure he does it properly for you, buys the right things, has the right idea on the concept. He wants you to enjoy it properly of course.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Bless you honestly, this man can go all fucking night and even past the sunrise if he really wants to. He’ll wear you out and make sure you need to call out of work the next day because he swears he’s not done with you yet. Yuta is an avid lover of marathon sex and he has the stamina to keep up with it. Usually he can go as long as ten minutes per round once he gets inside of you but he will not hold himself back from coming, so he’s not usually one to stick out the full ten minutes unless he’s just trying to tease you. He knows going longer can sometimes become painful.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yuta loves toys, both on you and himself. He thinks they are incredibly fun to use in bed with you and just by himself. He’s not opposed to any toys really, he’ll buy/use whatever he feels like or whatever you express interest in wanting. Nothing is really off limits in that sense.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Yuta can tease you but he’s not really unfair. He’ll edge you unintentionally and make up for it seconds later. He’ll praise you until you’re squirming, roll his hips a little slower to hear you whine, but he’s never dragging on his teasing. He’d rather see you crying from pleasure than desperation cause he’s holding back.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Yuta. Whimpers. Yuta. Whines.

You can’t tell me anything different. Yuta will not restrain his noises… mostly because he’s incapable of doing so. He’ll moan and curse, babble on and on about how good you feel, thank you over and over for letting him have you. He’s learned to not be embarrassed by his noises because he realized how much they seem to turn you on. He takes it as a compliment now.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

One of Yuta’s biggest guilty pleasures is cock-warming. He loves being close to you, cuddling you tightly as you both try and sleep. So why not take it a step further and just… slip inside. His only issue is that he can never promise it’ll remain cock-warming. His hips or yours turn restless at some point and you’ll easily get carried away. But, on nights where you’re both able to control yourselves, Yuta will knock out within seconds of slipping inside of you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

When soft, Yuta is sitting at 5.2 inches. Once hard, Yuta is 6.3 inches and curves upwards. He’s got a good girth to him, the kind that requires some getting used to but doesn’t hurt if he prepares you correctly. He’s got a pretty cock, which you’ve mentioned before just to see his face turn a shade of scarlet as you kept reassuring him that you meant it. He’s paler with a pretty flushed pink tip and some light veins running along his shaft.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Man he could fuck you every day of the week, all hours of the day, if he had the time. His sex drive is unbelievably high, this boy was touch starved and now he can’t get enough.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He will not fall asleep until he assures that you have been properly taken care of. Yuta also feels pretty energized after sex so he may not come right back to bed after he’s sure you’re comfy. Depending on the time of day, he’s actually gone for a run after or cleaned the house before accompanying you in bed again. You like to tease him and call him an overachiever for doing more cardio after all the cardio he just did. Typically though, if you fuck before bed, he’ll be asleep within thirty minutes or so.

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tender-rosiey · 11 months

Text

“ETERNITY IS IN YOUR EYES LIKE YOU’RE IN MY HEART”

— the moment when gojo, geto, nanami, sukuna, and toji knew they wanted to spend their entire life with you

a/n: I will upload a bsd version of this soon! <3

GOJO SATORU: when you held him after suguru’s death while pressing soft kisses to the top of his head. vulnerability was something gojo despised, but the way it was so easy, so comforting to show it in front of you held his heart in a special type of way. you always know how he feels and you somehow always say the right thing. even if you don’t say something, your presence alone grounds him.

he feels exposed around you and it doesn’t scare him. instead, he finds himself getting lost in your embrace, his safe place, time after time. he yearns for it and he knows and accepts that his heart belonged to you from the start and till the end of time. so when he does get released out of the realm, he doesn’t notice nor question that he teleported right between your arms.

GETO SUGURU: when he found you cuddling mimiko and nanako. the three of you were fast asleep, but there is no mistaking the protective hold you have on the girls, even when you’re asleep. no wonder they look so content and safe like nothing can touch them in your arms. he still remembers how you didn’t hesitate in welcoming them to the family and as time went by, you were their joy and someone they adored, not more than he does though.

he can’t help the smile that creeps onto his face as he chuckles helplessly. he walks towards you and covers you and the girls with the blanket, but not without pressing a loving kiss to your forehead with a gentle whisper of an “I love you” and caressing your ring finger. he has to know the size after all.

NANAMI KENTO: when he came back home and found you trying to bake something for him as a surprise. you’re moving around the kitchen with such determination and concentration that you don’t notice him. so he is left to admire how you work, your delicate hands, your small smile as you think of how it will turn out, and your endearing reactions to certain things like the batter getting on your nose.

he also finds himself admiring every single part of you—till this day he doesn’t know how he got so lucky. it also brings into light just how much you work and that fact that you do it with love does it for him. it doesn’t feel forced; it’s genuine and full of tenderness. so he decides with a smile that your finger has been bare for far too long.

RYOMEN SUKUNA: when you stood up for him against the people who cursed him out even when they had every right to. he is no good man nor does he need someone—anyone—to defend him. but he didn’t feel as irritated as he thought he would. instead, he felt prideful but confused. why? he asks you later and you tell him that it just happened; you didn’t think twice before responding to them. 'it just happened' he repeats in his head.

he is a terrible guy, rough and cruel. he is someone who lives solely for his own desires and self so he is surprised when he finds his head on your lap that day and his hand is holding onto your own, not to keep you from running but to ground himself. it’s pathetic, he thinks, when he realizes that he can’t live without you anymore.

FUSHIGURO TOJI: when he was going to get a glass of water, but your sleepy form held onto him with a soft plea of ‘don’t leave’. even though the action is so simple, it tugged at his heart strings and he realized just how much of a hold you have on him. almost instantly, he got back to bed and pulled you close into his chest.

he murmured, “never leaving you, doll; that’s the last thing you gotta worry ‘bout.” he always denied having a soft spot for you, but the fact that you want him and need him as much as he does for you affected him more than any other. he thinks that being wrapped around your pretty little finger isn’t something bad like he initially thought so he is okay paying quite the sum on the ring so he can see your smile.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso

do not copy or plagiarize or i will send my cat after you

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lightseoul · 1 year

Text

endearment

synopsis. first, second, and third instances; it's official, there's something going on with bakugou and you're determined to find out.

cw. fem!reader, pro hero!katsuki, aged-up (26 yrs old), established relationship, a lot of cursing

word count. 1.9k words

The first time it happens, you don’t think too much about it.

“Bakugou,” you call out from where you’re snuggled on his corduroy sofa. “Can you pass me some tissue?”

From the bathroom, you could hear a faint ‘tch’.

The sound of house slippers colliding with the tiled floor grows louder and louder until he finally emerges with a roll in his hand, which he promptly tosses to you.

You catch it—barely—and grin when you feel the thickness of the 3-ply roll, no doubt a staple in Bakugou Katsuki’s pristine apartment unit.

Go figure.

He’s circling the coffee table and plopping down next to you when your phone rings.

Confused, you pick up your phone to see a picture of you and Kirishima from your last get-together—his caller ID. Curious, Bakugou peers over your shoulder, frowning upon seeing his other best friend’s name.

“Isn’t he on patrol right now with Midoriya?” you ask.

Bakugou shrugs. “Answer it.”

Humming an okay, you click the accept button.

“Hey, Y/N! Is Bakubro with you right now?

You eye Bakugou, who’s pretending to be disinterested and not at all eavesdropping. “Yeah. What’s up?”

Kirishima laughs, “Can you tell him to check our group chat? Limited edition All Might merch just dropped.”

At that, you chuckle. “Got this Ei. He’s actually just beside me right now. I’ll make sure to tell him. And tell Izuku I said hi.”

You can practically hear the smile on his face when he says: “Thanks, bro! You’re the best.”

With that, you press the end call button and turn slightly to regard Bakugou, who’s now staring at his hands on his knees, what looks like a scowl etched on his face.

You poke at his side, trying to be playful.

“Aren’t you curious about what he had to say?”

He shakes his head before standing up and heading—again—to the bathroom.

Huh.

The second time it happens, it leaves you and your friends bewildered.

“And so that’s how yesterday’s patrol ended up with me getting a special interview with TBS,” Mina says proudly.

You chuckle, amused. “That’s amazing, Mina.”

From where she’s seated beside you in the booth of your favorite bar, she grins. “Yeah, well I try!”

Kirishima, who’s sitting opposite the both of you, chimes in. “You have to tell Bakubro that story.”

“Where is he, anyway?” Mina asks.

You squint, looking through the glass windows of the bar. “I think he’s still searching for a parking space.”

At that, Mina cocks her head to the side in confusion. “But it’s been a while since you guys arrived?”

“Yeah…”

You pick up your phone, thumbing through the contacts until you arrive at the one marked with the red asterisk.

Emergency contact.

You’re in the middle of quickly typing out a where r u when Mina, the ever meddling Mina, peers over your shoulder unbeknownst to you.

“You named his contact…Bakugou?”

Attention divided between texting and talking with your friends, you retort lamely with: “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” Kirishima pipes up. “It’s just that couples usually save each other’s contacts as sweet pet names.”

Mina nods in agreement. “For example, I have Ei saved as baby, with a red heart.”

Before you can even defend yourself, let alone playfully gag at the nickname Mina has given Kirishima, Bakugou appears at your table, sitting down at the booth next to Kirishima and in front of you, uncharacteristically quiet.

When you lock eyes, you raise your eyebrows ever so slightly— denoting a question: everything okay?—but he doesn’t sustain eye contact.

Instead, he stands up again quite abruptly.

“Restroom,” he explains curtly, stuffing his hands in his pockets before walking away, leaving the three of you speechless.

The third time it happens, it happens in his childhood home.

You didn’t expect to meet his parents this early on in the relationship; you haven’t even been together for a year. Yet Bakugou was determined to introduce you to them, said something about his sharp intuition telling him something or whatever.

Which is how you now find yourself in the living room of the place where he grew up, poring over photo albums like how dehydrated animals in hot climates pore over water.

With his mother, of all people.

“And this is him when his quirk first manifested,” Mitsuki explains, speeding through the pages of the album whilst grinning. You can’t help but grin back.

She points to a rather old photograph on the last page. “And this one is him playing baseball in 8th grade.”

Intrigued, you move closer to see the picture, smiling when you spot him, crimson eyes and ash blonde locks sticking out like a rose amidst the thorny bushes—impossible to miss.

Wanting to fill the air, you offer: “Bakugou was a very cute kid, Mitsuki-san.”

In a flash, she looks up at you, a puzzled look decorating her beautiful features, instead of the look of gratitude you were aiming for.

When you look back at her with confused eyes yourself, she asks, “You still call each other by your last name?”

“Oh—I—uh…”

You eye Bakugou who’s in the kitchen, chopping fresh vegetables for the salad, as per his mother’s instructions.

You convince yourself that he’s got to be out of earshot.

Stumbling over your words again, you scramble for purchase. “Well—”

To your relief, Mitsuki only laughs good-naturedly in response, cutting you off.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I know my Katsuki can be a bit intimidating sometimes, but inside he’s a real softie who appreciates the little things.”

You could simply nod in response.

From the kitchen, Bakugou announces: “I’m going to the restroom. Start eating without me.”

A fourth time does not end up happening.

Instead, you find yourself riding the elevator to the rooftop of Bakugou’s apartment complex, where he’s already waiting for you.

‘I’ll just go ahead’ is what he said after both of you finished cleaning the dishes from dinner. ‘Make sure to catch up’.

Before you know it, the elevator doors slide open and you step out, suddenly becoming acutely aware of the heavy feeling now sitting in your stomach.

Will you finally figure out why Bakugou’s been acting a bit off lately?

You immediately spot him, back turned against you, and arms folded across his chest, resting on top of the railing.

Slowly, you walk towards him, ultimately situating yourself to his right.

A tense—albeit not uncomfortable—silence falls upon you.

Neither of you says anything until you pipe up with: “Is there bad news?”

At that, he finally turns his head to look at you. “Hah?”

You school your expression into a pensive one. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“What?” he exclaims, his entire body now facing you in a frantic hurry. “No!”

You chuckle. “Then what’s with the bad news face?”

“Bad news face?”

Nodding, you continue. “The face you make when you hear or are about to deliver bad news. It’s the more solemn iteration of your scowl.”

“What—” he scoffs, although he sounds pleased, “—You’ve fucken memorized my expressions?”

You shrug sheepishly.

When he doesn’t say anything in return, you prod further. “How bad is it?”

He huffs, breaking eye contact. “No bad news. Just—it’s…shit, never mind.”

“It’s just me,” you remind him. “It’s okay.”

With your reassurance, you can see his body relaxing a little bit, though he still refuses to say anything.

A few more seconds of tense silence pass before Bakugou finally looks you straight in the eye.

“Why the fuck do you call me Bakugou?

You stare at him. “...because it’s your name?”

Whatever he wanted to hear from you, it sure wasn’t that.

He scoffs. “Yeah? Well, why do you call shitty hair Ei or shitty deku Izuku? Have I failed some fucking test to qualify for first name privileges?”

“What are you talking about?”

This is what made him act weirdly the past week?

“Don’t make me say it again, woman,” he spits, although there’s not much venom coating his words.

“God,” he combs through his hair in frustration, “this is fucking humiliating.”

“I call you Bakugou because that’s what I called you back when we were just friends,” you try to reason. “Also, I…I didn’t want to start calling you Katsuki out of nowhere.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to,” you finish, voice small.

“Who said I wanted you to call me that?”

You shoot him a knowing look.

You stare at each other for a few more seconds before he groans in defeat, turning to face the city skyline instead of you. You follow suit, opting to look up at the stars that seem to be twinkling extra tonight.

Moments pass with neither of you saying anything.

You gently bump his shoulder with yours.

“For what it’s worth,” you start, “I don’t think there’s anything to be embarrassed about.”

He only grunts in response. You press on.

“The fact that you just told me all this…I don’t know. It makes me happy. It’s sort of like saying you care enough about our relationship to communicate even the most ‘humiliating’—your words not mine—of concerns.

“Of course I fucking do, dumbass,” he retorts. “Wouldn’t have confessed to you if I was just gonna chicken out at some point like a loser.”

You smile at him and his words, and you hope your adoration translates to your face, because the thing with Bakugou is that sometimes you have to deliver the message without having to utter the words—all to preserve the moment before it’s adulterated by shame.

“Right,” you look at him, “why don’t you call me by my first name?”

“Figured I haven’t earned it yet,” he says bluntly.

Amused, you push forward. “And how were you planning to earn it?”

He shoots you a glare. “By being the best fucking boyfriend, that’s how.”

At that, you cannot help the delighted laughter that erupts from you.

He side-eyes you, annoyed, though a smile manages to crack through the facade.

“Stop laughing at me.”

And when you don’t: “Hey.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you exclaim, trying to catch your breath. “I’m just happy.”

He studies you for a beat, eyes fluttering across your face as if he’s searching for something. You feel yourself grow warmer under his piercing gaze.

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally says: “Call me Katsuki.”

You grin, “Okay, Katsuki.”

At your mention of his name, the scowl plastered on his face eases a little into a neutral—borderline happy—expression.

“And I’ll call you by your first name…” he declares, “if you’re fine with it or if not, just forget I said that.”

You take his hand and squeeze it before he can ramble some more.

“Sounds good to me, Katsuki.”

bonus:

“I swear,” you argue while putting on your shoes, “I can ride the subway, Katsuki.”

“At this hour?” he snorts.

“Best fucking boyfriend, remember?” he sneers as he obtains his car keys by the doorway. “Just let me do this for you.”

You relent, knowing better than to fight with Katsuki on the matter of your safety, when suddenly a brilliant idea dawns on you.

Straightening up, you say: “I don’t think I saw you drinking water after dinner, Katsuki.”

“What?”

“Go hydrate yourself,” you command.

At that, he grumbles but submits to you anyway, walking back to his tidy kitchen.

Once you see that he’s in the middle of chugging down a bottle, you call: “Katsuki?”

He grunts—the best he can do while downing a bottle of water—in response.

“Can I call you babe?”

Bakugou chokes on his spit.

tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik @beabe19

#as i said #we love an emotionally constpiated bakugou <3 #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bakugou angst

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messylustt · 11 months

Text

A HUG? / MAYBE MORE? — miguel o’hara + reader: you make a decision that miguel isn’t too pleased about. miguel doesn’t like this ‘someone’.

marks includes fluff :(( bit of angst (ends well). mentions of cheating (not miguel or reader) — pls let’s just ignore the comic miguel (coz he may or may not have cheated) and focus on movie miguel. thank you. wc 1.4k.

pt one. pt two. pt three.

you walked alone, head muffled. you've found taking one step in front of the other helps focus those muffled voices. maybe then you could make sense of them. maybe then your heart wouldn't feel so heavy.

so, toe after toe you ventured around HQ, humming a soft tune to focus on your breath rather than the voices you found you couldn't make out. but then there was a clearer one, a deeper one, getting your attention.

you look up to see miguel eyeing you and your distracted self. you smile. "miguel, hey."

miguel's eyes dart. ever since the news of your hug had circled the spider society every spider-person had made their own assumption. lovers? close friends? related?—that was a strange and short lived one to circulate. but people could just not fathom how miguel would ever want to hug anyone. you being a family member seemed more plausible at the time.

but now everyone has circled back to potential lovers. but you have someone. had someone... you aren't too sure. because the reminded tug at your heartstrings earns your smile to slightly drop. miguel notices. his inspection of you turning more detailed. "you don't look annoyingly happy." he states monotonously.

you focus your gaze and push away your heart, placing that smile you always seemed to bear back on. "what? you mean how you don't look everyday?" you tilt your head.

to outsiders you would seem normal, fine, happy. but to miguel you seemed far from it. to miguel you seemed troubled, not yourself. and it sets an uncomfortable feeling low in his stomach. he didn't like not seeing you as your bright, bubbly self. Because slowly you had become his rock, his comfort of sorts. and if you weren't stable, how could he ever be?

he steps closer, tapping your chin to raise it up, as you had begun to get distracted in the slightly shiny floor. you meet his gaze, forcing that smile back on. but Miguel places two clawed fingers against your cheeks, drawing that smile down. "don't smile unless you mean it." he muttered.

you were quite surprised by how intensively he had begun to take note of you. you had caught him always eyeing you in briefings, or in the cafeteria (if you can call it that). it now kinda makes sense the whole assumption of 'lovers'. but you weren't. and you personally didn't think you'd ever be. miguel wasn't the type.

you step backwards, away from his close hold, and miguel has the urge to pull you back, his hand slightly moving with you to hold your wrist. "are you free?" he asks quietly. and now you could spot the slight bags under his eyes, proving his need for "comfort".

but you had been thinking. though it's been nice, and you haven't minded it. miguel's hands have begun to drift more permanently around you. the hugs had become to feel far more intimate. you have someone...had someone...someone who you still liked, and someone who you hoped still liked you.

that's where the confusion settled, and the tug of your heart. you couldn't carry on this...whatever this thing was with miguel. it wasn't right. because your feelings had began to not feel right. you have/had someone.

you take your hand away from his hold and miguel's eyes narrow, quickly darting up to your face again. you place that forced smile back on and miguel's lips twitch in a snarl. He didn't want you to be fake around him.

"i'm sorry...not this time...I'm...busy." you space the words out far too randomly and of course miguel takes notice.

"this time?"

you gulp. "and maybe next time."

miguel grinds his teeth. "and the time after that?" he speaks a fraction harsher.

"...and the time after that." you confirm, looking away from his gaze, because you did feel bad. but it wasn't right being that alone and intimate when you have…had—god, just whatever this 'someone' was, point blank you felt it was wrong.

you stand straighter, finally meeting his gaze. and you almost flinch. not because of an expected hardness, but because of a soft...desperation? That couldn't be right... miguel didn't need your hugs like he does air...no.

yes. miguel has been forced to realise that himself. he does need your hugs, he craves them. and in all honesty he hadn't had the chance to think of himself without them. but here you stand, telling him 'that's it'.

"that's it, then?" he asks slowly.

you slowly nod. "i am sorry. but I know for a fact that peter is a great hugger. plus his pink dressing gown makes everything fluffy—“

miguel cuts you off. "peter? you really think i want a hug from him?"

you shrug. "as i said: great hugger."

miguel opens his mouth then pauses. "how do you know that?"

"uh...well, cause I've hugged him before?" you lightly chuckle.

maybe miguel had also noticed the 'intimacy' that had grown between your hugs. because now his chest is aching with a form of...jealousy? over peter? and not in the way a lover feels jealous necessarily. but in the way he wanted your hugs for himself.

yes, that made him selfish, and probably unreasonable. but he liked the thought of something so special as a hug from you being something for him. and now you were saying no, and offering peter up as a substitute? no one could substitute you. no one.

so, miguel began to shake his head. "do you really think that peter's hug could suffice for yours?" he narrowed his eyes, seeing if you truly believed that.

you again shrug. "it's just a hug, isn't it?" because if it was something more than you were right to stop this. miguel's jaw clenched. it was supposed to be, wasn't it? a bit of relief.

maybe that relief has turned into an addiction? maybe the term 'a simple hug' has turned into so much more? all miguel knew was that he didn't want to stop this. he didn't want to not be able to have your body pressed against his.

a voice suddenly calls your name, making you spin. your heart thumps, seeing that 'someone' walk up. a 'peter' spider-man variant. generic, so you chose to call him by his middle name, 'jessy'. named after his childhood dog.

"jessy..." your smile was the brightest miguel thinks he's ever seen. and that seems to only dampen his already soured mood. "finished a mission?" you eye his heaving chest.

jessy nods, looping his arms around your waist and giving your cheek a kiss. miguel almost flinched at the visual, his gaze getting caught up in jessy's hand. it's placement somewhere miguel had used quite often. but then miguel looks back to Jessy's face. and then back to your bright smile.

you two couldn't be...because that would mean...jessy had cheated.

miguel remembers passing by a room, moans and whimpers piercing the otherwise silence. miguel had pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering in annoyance. he banged on the door, not daring to look in. "this is communal space...you know that right?" he growled out, as he heard the moans quiten, as voices muttered together. "get out of the office." and then he left, but not before his gaze caught the sight of jessy's face and the girl that certainly wasn't you.

miguel would probably have reacted differently if he'd seen you there, pressed against jessy like that.

miguel now hardens his gaze on jessy, because then he leant forward and pecked your lips, making miguel's claws cut skin. your bright smile showed that you were oblivious to jessy's "secret" doings. but that's why your heart tugged so hard. you knew. those muffled voices were your subconscious trying to drown out thoughts of reason.

things like 'you deserve better', 'don't let him kiss you'...'end it'. all those sensible thoughts getting shoved into a basin of water, left to drown and die. you hated to admit to yourself that someone had cheated on you. it made more prominent thoughts circle the top of the water, free from harm. 'am I not good enough?', 'did I do something wrong?'...'it's probably my fault'.

miguel speaks your name, making you shift your gaze to him. "a mission. you're needed." he says, beginning to walk away. a mission? but you follow anyway, waving jessy goodbye as you slipped into miguel's office.

"sorry, i didn't know i had one today. i would've been more prepared—"

"jessy..." miguel is turning back to you, brows furrowed as he thinks of how to word this. "how long?"

your brows furrow a moment, before the lines smooth. "...a decent while. why?"

miguel grinds his teeth. "there isn't...really anyway to put this..."

you lightly chuckle, trying to ease the settling tension. "you...okay?"

no. he wasn't. because you had said to 'stop this'. but now wasn't the time... "i caught..." god, this was a lot harder to say then he had initially thought.

but when he had said that you had begun to clock on. it's not a surprise someone else had seen them. they were being rather loud. your smile had begun to fade as you muttered. "i...i know..."

miguel immediately looks up at this. "what?..."

you lick your lips, avoiding eye contact. "i appreciate you trying to tell me. that must have been annoying to hold." you lightly chuckle. but this time its void of any happiness. "but just...can you please forget you saw anything?"

you finally meet his gaze, fiddling with your fingers, as you try not to produce a sad expression. but miguel catches it. he always does. his chest is beginning to heave. because jessy cheated on you, of all people. and you knew about it. and you still let him touch and kiss you.

miguel wasn't having any of it.

he stalked forward, making you slightly stumble back. "i'm sorry...did i catch that wrong? you knew? you fucking knew, and you let him..." he's breathing hard, and you don't know why he's so worked up.

"it's...complicated, alright?" you say. "and if that's all, i think i'll go." you move to turn but miguel is grabbing you back, forcing you close to him, because he was pissed.

"you let him touch you...kiss you. after he touched and kissed someone else?" miguel's words are harsh and they bite at your heart.

your face has actually fallen to a scowl. "i again appreciate the concern, or whatever. but you have no place to say that."

you'd hugged a few times. that's it. miguel isn't blind to that fact. but he can't be blind to the one that is making him want to tear jessy to shreds. "maybe it's not. but i'm making it my place. because you aren't doing anything about it. you can't just let him touch you after—“

"he's touched someone else. yeah, i got it, miguel." you try to get out of his tight grip again, but to no avail. "miguel." you say harsher. because all this talk about jessy feeling up someone else is making your heart crack wide open, leaving tears to well in your eyes. you didn't want to cry.

crying would mean that the basin full of water would drain, leaving you to the dead carcasses of your reasonable thoughts. you don't think you could face yourself after seeing that.

"let. go." you say slowly, willing the frog in your throat to just hop away. miguel's grip only tightens, because he's noticing your glistening eyes, he's noticing your crumbling stature. and in all honesty he wants to catch you. this time be the one to comfort you.

so, he brings you closer, lifting your arms to wrap around his neck, as he engulfs your waist in a hug. and that's when you finally break, tears spilling as your hiccuped sniffles meet miguel's ears, only making him hold you tighter.

you were crying into his neck, that basin now draining as you tightened your hold around miguel like a lifeline. after a while miguel had begun whispering things in your ear, as you took note of the empty basin full of your dead reasonable thoughts. "you deserve so much better...he doesn't deserve any bit of you...por favor."

you had never heard miguel sounding so sincere...so vulnerable, even though you were the one crying. then his lips were grazing your ear, drawing you even closer if possible. "don't let him kiss you...don't let him...touch you..." and then as his hands had begun to find solace under your split suit by your hips, rubbing your warm skin, he whispered "...end it".

he had spoken all those dead thoughts of yours. given his own voice in turn for your faulty subconscious. he wanted you to listen to him, seeing your hesitance in leaving ejssy. through sniffles you say "i don't know...if i can..."

"why not?" miguel's tone had entirely softened, your breathing—even though shaky—still your breathing against his neck, calming him.

"i...don't know." you finally say. because you didn't. maybe in truth you felt you couldn't get much better. you didn't want to lose someone that had been so prominent in your life. and miguel seemed to read between the lines, or maybe you head said that out loud?

"you can get anyone...cariño...really anyone." miguel muttered, open mouth dragging close to your ear. "and i..." he drifts off, making you lean your head away, brushing your tear stained cheeks as you met his gaze. miguel tightened his hold around your waist, scared you were going to step farther away, and so he rushed the rest out. "i can be more prominent."

you stare at him, eyes widening a fraction. miguel licks his lips. "can...i be more prominent?"

your mouth is opening and closing. "prominent?" you ask, feeling stupid.

miguel actually feels nervous as he stares down at your slight red eyes and nose, his hand moving up to brush more tears away. "or be just...more."

"more?"

"mhm." miguel hums, the air feeling calmer. your muffled voices now gone in replace for miguel's. "please end it."

you gulp. miguel hasn't stopped caressing your face and waist, not until you agreed. maybe not even after that. "por favor...please."

then you found yourself nodding, and miguel doesn't think he's ever felt so...happy. In a very long time at least. and then he was drawing you back in, this time with his breath tickling your neck, his lips actually drawing in an almost kiss. "gracias, mi cariño....gracias.”

you had always liked his hugs. maybe they had brought you comfort too. maybe they give you more solace then you think you needed. and as miguel actually began to lift you, placing you on his desk, he found a new position, with your legs widened around his hips, his hands circled around your waist, his head in your neck, and the faint brush of his lips that you could quite possibly call a kiss.

more. this provided you two with more.

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charliemwrites · 5 months

Text

Okay, okay, part 2 of the angst. A little fluff amongst the angst.

(No content warnings)

You let yourself cry only once. Tucked up in the back of the transport plane, just you and your duffel. If Nikolai notices, he politely ignores it.

After the 141, it takes you a long time to invest in your new SpecGru team. You do your job, of course. Work hard — harder than you ever have in your life. Use all the skills you learned… learned before. Seem to make a good impression.

Your new captain is gruffer than Price right off the bat, but he’s fair. Tells you what needs improvement, but is honest about what he’s impressed with.

The rest of the team is… fine.

Just fine, you tell yourself. Keep it professional; keep it distant.

Even when Keegan goes out of his way to bring you snacks and remind you to hydrate. Even when Nova helps you with a bad jam on your gun. Even when Nikto of all people sits next to you in the gym. Not touching, not even speaking. Just there.

They respect your distance. Respect your baggage. Don’t give you shit when you decline invitations to go out. You wait for your new captain to say it’s not working out. To tell you that you’re not a good fit, he’s concerned about your teamwork with the rest of the squad.

The ice only starts to thaw when you fuck up again. When you nearly die. You wake up to the entire squad in your hospital room; even Nikto is there, leaned up against the wall across from your bed.

Your captain gives you a couple harsh words for stupid sacrifices, but he chucks you under the chin when he’s done. Keegan presses a kiss to your forehead just as the pain meds are kicking in and you’re too loopy to do more than ask him if he even likes you.

The answer, apparently, is yes.

He likes you quite a bit. So much, in fact, that you start letting him into your room when he knocks. Tell him about the 141. Start joining him for training and seeking him out for tips on the sniper. You like him, dammit.

Then Nikto starts joining you two. Shocks both you and Keegan; he’s not close with anyone. If you’ve got a suitcase worth of baggage, Nikto has a bloody moving truck. You can count on two hands the number of words he’s said, with fingers left over.

Yet he’s become your new shadow. Reminds you of… a certain someone, in a lot of ways. Except Nikto pulls a knife on someone for making a gross comment about you. And starts teaching you how to throw knives and jumpstart just about everything. Seeks you out — constantly, it seems.

So now you’ve got Keegan and Nikto, flanking you almost constantly. And then you have Nova, teaching you hacking skills and makeshift bombs, her thigh pressed to yours. And your captain, patting you on the ass after a job well done.

You agree to go out with them for the first time. End up with Nova in your laps for an hour. Then find yourself in Keegan’s for another. Have Nikto’s hand on the small of your back on the way out of the bar, and your captain’s hand on your thigh during the drive back.

“Fuck you,” you nearly sob, bouncing on Keegan’s cock that night.

“That’s — fuck, baby, ngh — that’s the idea?”

You nip at his jaw and grind down, squeezing your eyes shut. His hands are firm but reverent on your hips, thumbs stroking old scars, guiding you just right when you start shaking.

“Fuck you for making me care,” you sniffle, squeezing down, delighted in the noise he makes. “Goddammit.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” he coos in your ear. “It’s alright. I love you too.”

And fuck if that doesn’t make you cum right then.

As you’re panting in the afterglow, you feel a rough kiss against your neck. Freeze as you see a gloved hand covering Keegan’s eyes.

“Love,” Nikto whispers in your ear. Your eyes sting, a sob caught up in your throat.

“Okay,” you whimper. “O-okay.”

Three months later, Laswell calls your captain for a joint mission. With the 141.

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #angst #sad fic #specgru reader #former 141 reader

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whoahoney · 1 year

Text

Unbelievable

Eddie Munson x friend!Reader

Summary: reader has a crush on eddie and plans to confess her feelings at the bar, when she finds him sitting with a gorgeous girl, she doubts herself… what will she do?

Warnings: minors DNI, unwelcome advances, drinking, jealousy, anxiety, making out, allusions to smut

A/N: dedicated to the lovely @easy-peasy68 and this awesome request she sent in! I hope you love it, darling! 💖😌

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tonight was the night—you were certain.

Tonight you’d worn your best clothes and redone your makeup twice. You prepared to drink until you were drunk of sorrow or happiness, one of the two.

“You’re not allowed to say that.” Robin chided over the phone as you walked to the bar and roll your eyes, “Think positive! He’s your friend, if he doesn’t return your feelings, how mean could he be about it?”

“I know he won’t be mean, Rob, he’s perfect!” You whine. “If he’s gonna let me down I know he’d do it in the sweetest most earth shattering way.” You watched the sidewalk pass beneath your feet and tried not to imagine the look of disappointment on his face.

“I have it on good authority that people can still be friends even after one rejects the other! Just look at me and Steve. We’ve been sailing this platonic love boat for years now! His dorky love confession is just a blip in the past now—“

“Whoa, wait, my love confession was not dorky—“ You hear Steve in the background and roll your eyes as you come to a stop before the sticker covered door that you’d grown quite fond of, this being Eddie’s favorite spot.

“Alrighty, Rob. I’m here.” You mumble and lean against the building.

Robin gasps, “Okayloveyou, call me after please, byeeeeee!” She almost sings as you end the call.

You take a deep breath and pull the door open. You’re so distracted looking for Eddie that you nearly blow right by the bouncer, sat at his laptop watching Lord of the Rings as he checked IDs.

You roll your eyes as he shoots you a questioning look, comparing your birthdate to your face before handing it back to you. You mumble a thanks and let your eyes scan the seats along the bar, where Eddie always sat.

You wondered if you beat him here for once, if you could be the one with two drinks waiting in front of you to be shared when he sat down like he’d always had with you.

You wonder if he’ll compliment your outfit, if he’ll even notice it. He typically always had a little compliment at the ready for you, about your hair or perfume, simple words that made you wanna shudder and savor the feeling forever.

A group of people grabbing drinks from the bartender caught your attention. They laughed merrily with each other and grabbed two tall glasses each to take to their awaiting table of friends, but when they moved, they also revealed a scene you never wanted to see; Eddie sat at the bar, and a gorgeous girl in your spot next to him.

Your heart ached and sank in your body, the beating of it suddenly so powerful it thudded in your chest. You wanted to swallow the lump in your throat, but your mouth was so dry you couldn’t, it just added to the sandpaper feeling prickling all the way down.

You wanted to cry at the way Eddie’s shoulders shook with a chuckle, facing the wall of bottles while she faced him, leaning closer on her hand and letting her ample cleavage show. She wore a red dress, one you wouldn’t even dream of wearing. Her lips were painted the same color and her eyes were lined with black so thick it reminded you of the music videos that sometimes played at the music store Eddie worked at.

She was perfect. And you suddenly felt as if you were not.

You feel someone bump into your shoulder and realize you were standing in the middle of traffic, grabbing a place at the bar with shaking hands, on the other side of three large old men that frequented the bar too.

Your mind was reeling and spinning without any alcohol to fuel it, so you opted for a water to collect yourself. When the bartender sat the tall glass in front of you, you take three big gulps of it and then some deep breaths. “Just go on over there, honey.” A gruff voice said.

“Yeah, that’s your spot!” Another said.

You turn to the right to see the old men looking at you, their leather vests, fading tattoos, and bald heads usually intimidating you, but when you saw them now, looking at you, you only saw concern in their eyes. You shake your head, “I don’t know what you mean.”

The men chuckle kindly, “Sweetheart, we know that’s your boy over there. And that broad has been buggin him for the last ten minutes about buying her drinks.”

Your brows push together and you lean over to view the two down on the other side of the man that spoke to you. Eddie had a tense smile, one he used when he didn’t wanna be rude.

“He could be nervous. She’s awfully pretty,” You think.

Another one of the men notice the skeptical look on your face, “He’s here to see you, ain’t he?” He asks incredulously through his thick mustache.

You shrug and nod, “We come here every week. W-We’re just friends though, so I should leave him alone.”

The men chuckle again before the third one pipes up, “Uh-uh! We gotta pool goin on how long it’ll take you guys to kiss. Poor boy always looks like he’s gonna make a move and doesn’t.” He rolled his eyes and his friends agreed.

Your jaw dropped, amusement on your face, “He does not!” You quietly chide before sneaking another glance at Eddie’s almost cowering figure as he kept his body facing straight, barely turning his head to respond to the girl.

“Between you and me,” the man closest to her almost mumbled, “if y’all kiss after this week, I lose—so it’s now or never.” He tsked and took a swig of his bottled bud light. You blush crimson and close your eyes. “If you go over there and plant one on loverboy, I’ll give you $50.” He held out his hand for you to shake.

You try not to chuckle when you notice these old men have you almost convinced. You take a deep breath and shake his hand, “I have to right now?” You ask.

“You just have to go over there right now, okay? And if it don’t work out, you gotta seat right back over here.” He nodded and gave you a firm pat on the back that almost knocked you over as you picked up or water and climbed off the stool. As you pass by them, you hear their rumbling cheers while they no doubt watch you.

You keep stepping towards where Eddie and the girl sat, Eddie’s hair practically a curtain between himself and her.

“You’re just shy, aren’t you?” She purred when you got close enough. She reached out to stroke Eddie’s hand that rested on the counter only for him to drag it away into his pocket.

“Nah, no, I-I’m typically not.” He said with a dry chuckle.

The girl tsked and leaned forward as you stepped up right behind her, still undetected, “Aww, so you just act this way for little ole me? All cute and shy?” She flattered herself and giggled in a way that you figured was supposed to be alluring.

As Eddie turns his head to face her, you step over next to him and put a hand on his shoulder, “Actually I think you just make him uncomfortable.” You remark, as you look her over and school your face to look unimpressed with the girl before you, as if you hadn’t envied her at first sight.

You look at Eddie, who stared at you with brown eyes wide with awe. Your lips twitch when they attempt to smile at the two waiting glasses in front of him, sips yet to be taken. “Can I have my seat or do I need to sit in his lap for you to understand?” You look back at her coldly.

She scoffs and looks between you two as she stands with her purse and returns to her table of friends in the corner.

You exhale deeply and look over at your biker friends who had heard the whole exchange. They raised their newest glasses to you and drank with hearty laughter.

“Friends of yours?” He asks with a uneasy chuckle, checking out the old men skeptically before he spotted their patches and smiled.

You shrug, “New friends.”

He nodded. You lingered by Eddie, your hand still on his shoulder before you move to sit in your spot, “My lap, huh?” He chuckled, amused and impressed at your display of courage he’d never seen before.

You plop down, the seat pleasantly warm from the bitch that previously occupied it. “Yeah, sorry about that, you just seemed…” you shook your head as he nodded gently.

“Thank you.” He looked you over, his eyes growing large again when they paused at your chest. “You look… fantastic, wow.” He says with a dumbstruck smile as he took you in again.

You chuckle and shake your head, “Oh, this old thing. Just threw it on, y’know, but, uh, I’m-I’m glad you like it!” You smile at him, feeling the difference in the air between you tonight. It felt good. Full of possibility.

Eddie clears his throat and slides your drink over to you. “A toast— to my best friend;” he started as you lift your glass with a quirked brow, “The bravest, wittiest ….” He hesitated, peering into your eyes, “…prettiest girl I know.” He nodded as he finished.

“Here, here!” The familiar gruff voices echoed behind you in agreement, lifting their shots before throwing them back. You guys chuckle and sip your beers, your nose wrinkling at the first taste as you usually did.

Eddie chuckled at you as you set the glass down, foam on your upper lip. “What?”

“You got a little…” he pointed at your mouth, but didn’t give you a chance to clean it yourself, bringing his thumb up to wipe it off with one gentle swipe. “There… much better.” He said softly, his face inches from yours. His touch sending pins and needles where he touched. He’d never touched your face before—not to mention your lips.

You look down and blush, finding your knees between his and his body leaned close to yours. He looked so much more like himself now, that ornery glint in his eye, his boyish smile that always said ‘trouble’ when he flashed one your way.

You watch his ringed hand rest on your knee, stroking in loving circles before you look up at him, his gaze more serious, yet not stone. Something else was hidden in the look he gave you, something that felt familiar to you.

He whispers your name, “—Tell me something.”

You cock your head and give him a single nod, “What’s to tell?”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes before taking a drink, “S’gonna be like that, huh?” He looks at you again, playful smile on display as he leans closer to you again.

“Like what?” You chuckle, enjoying this game. Eddie rolls his eyes with a smile and goes to turn back forward when you catch his knee, “No, no,” you pat him before turning him to you by the knee in your grip, Eddie’s gaze darkening as his eyes flicked back up to yours. “No need for that.”

You go to withdrawal your hand, but he catches it., “Were you jealous?” He asked, his hand stop yours.

You can’t help but balk, your mouth opening and eyes widening before you can pinch your brows together and shake your head, “N-No,” you find yourself in the lie, “I just—“ you shrug, finding his eyes on yours expectantly, obviously working hard to keep his mouth straight and resisting the smile that threatened to curl up at the corners.

“Just?” He prodded.

“Like—ugh, the way she was touching you. And looking at you—”

“And… that’s not jealous?” He broke a little, one side of his smile lifting as he bit the other cheek.

Your cheeks blossom into magenta, your avoidant smile rising up on your face as you grab your drink as a buffer, not daring to move your other hand from his grasp. Eddie watches you as you gulp the brew and set down the glass, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Okay, maybe a little..” you shrug before looking up at him from under your lashes, your eyes darting back down when you saw his smirk.

Oh, great. It’s a joke to him.

“But if it was a guy, okay,” you start, “And if I was you, and I was looking the same way you did, you’d do the same thing, wouldn’t you?” You shrug in question. “You’d wanna protect me from an unwelcome conversation, right?”

Eddie nodded, “Yeah, absolutely.”

“See?” You go to move your hand from his, turning to face the bar when he catches you again.

“To protect you, yes.” He said, hidden urgency in his eyes as he squeezed your hand gently, “—But also because I’d be jealous.” He smiles at your hesitance to believe him as you gently shake your head in disbelief.

“So.. now would be a good time to tell you about my feelings?” You ask quietly.

“Feelings?” He asks in feigned incredulity. You fight the blooming smile as he teases you. “Feelings about what?” He mocks you at your own game.

You roll your eyes and push at his chest, smiling when he caught your wrist and released your other, turning his hand to face palm up, his fingers lingering on yours in the hope you’d wind your fingers through his.

And you do, just as he’s begun stroking his thumb over your hand, the one he caught on his heart.

“Tell me.” He says just above a whisper despite the chaotic barroom.

You nod, “I… I like you. A lot. An embarrassing amount, actually— since the day we met.” You stumble, looking down at the rings on his hands you’d never brought yourself to play with, though you thought about it a lot.

You’d never held hands like this before, always sure to stay in your own bubbles. But tonight, everything was different, and you both knew it wouldn’t ever be the same.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He said casually.

You look up at him in surprise, to find him leaning forward and releasing your hand to hold you steady as he pressed a kiss to your lips. Your eyes melt closed and you kiss him back, not shying away from the urge to touch his face and neck.

You barely hear the cheers behind you until Eddie breaks the kiss to glance at your friends a few seats down the bar. You turn shyly to find them paying their tabs and handing cash to the man that convinced you to come over here in the first place.

He saunters over to you, cap on his head and a new dip in his mouth, the lump bulging beneath his bottom lip. “Here ya go, darlin, take your new boyfriend out on a date.” He dropped a fifty in front of you and shoved his winnings away in his pocket.

Your jaw drops and you go to hand it back to him, “Sir, I can’t take this—“

“The hell you can’t!” He said as his friends joined him, one of them taking his free hand. “I’m $200 richer because of you, let me share the wealth!”

“Gary, you leave them alone.” The man chided. “Congratulations, you two,” he said when he turned to you, “Seeing you guys here these last few months had us thinking about our old times—Gary and I have been coming here with our friends since ‘82.” He beamed at his partner and it was only then you noticed the pride flag patch, beneath the Satyrs Motorcycle Club emblem, along with a BACA patch to boot.

You smiled warmly as Eddie took your hand again and swiftly pocketed the $50 for you. “Well, we owe you fellas drinks the next time we meet!” Eddie said.

You smile at his heart and nod in agreement, “Thank you, so much.” You smile at Gary who nodded.

“We wish y’all the best—treat her right, pretty boy, she knows where to find me.” He pointed a thick callused finger in his direction with a teasing wink and a final pat on the back as they departed, hearing the unmistakeable revving of their friends preparing to leave.

Eddie looked back at you as you sighed, the tension from the last couple weeks finally falling away with each careful stroke of his thumb over your hand.

I could get used to this, you think.

“So…” Eddie said, in the way he always did when he had a new plan of action, “How about… we blow this popsicle stand, grab some food and then.. maybe spend the night at yours.” He said, looking down at your hands as he spoke, the way he did when he was shy.

You smile and think about the advantages you have now that your best friend might just be your boyfriend, how well you know each other already. How easy this felt since you said the words that felt like wire bristles coming out of your throat.

“Spend the night?” You ask with a hand pressed to your chest. Eddie blushes as he meets your eye, not bothering to clarify the sentiment of spending the evening at your place like you’d done plenty of times before.

But never spending the night.

You bit your lip before letting it slip out of your teeth, “You wanna?” You ask quietly.

His eyes shift again, that darkness taking over again as his mischief fell and lust took hold of him. He nodded.

“And before our first date!” You say in a theatrical gasp that had him giggling and shaking his head before taking a drink.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to—“

“Who said that?” You scoff, taking a sip of the water you brought over with you as Eddie chuckled into his now free hands, shaking his head and groaning, “you’re unbelievable.”

“I bet it won’t be the last time you say that tonight.” You say daringly.

Eddie’s mouth drops open before he lurches off his stool to pay your tabs. As he stands in line his gaze keeps drifting back to you, knowing you’re watching him with a coy smile he’d never gotten to see before now. He figures now you must’ve been too nervous and it makes him chuckle as he looks you over again.

You notice this and shoot him a look, narrowed eyes and a suspicious smirk, only able to guess what he’s thinking about you.

Your eyes shift behind him to find the girl from earlier still sitting in the corner, her eyes on you with curiosity. You wonder if she saw your kiss, or how Eddie held your hands. Before you can think too much about it, Eddie’s obstructing your view as he approaches and holds out his hand for you, something else he hadn’t done before.

You take it gratefully and smile as you fix your purse. You step forward and feel his hand at your lower back, almost bringing you to your knees at first. You gathered yourself quickly and smiled when you saw his hand shoot out from behind you to grab the door, ushering you through into the warm night air.

His hand slips into yours and he pulls you closer to him. His smile is set on you and he wraps his arms around you, staring at you for just a minute.

“Thanks for my drink.” You smile, finding a hand on his chest and the other stroking the column of his neck.

He chuckles, “Of course. More than happy to cover my girl’s drinks.”

“Ooh, your girl.” You sing teasingly.

You feel him stroking your back at the edge of your shirt where a sliver of skin was exposed. “Yeah. Unless your mind has changed about me in the last five minutes—“

You’re quick to cut him off with a shake of your head and a “Mm-mm, nope!” That sends him smiling wider as he pulls you over to his car.

“You didn’t drive, did you?” He asks as you approach the Kia. You shake your head again and catch his smirk.

“You dirty dog.” He tsks and puts his hand against the passenger door you leaned against.

“What??” You ask through a giggle.

“You came here with a plan didn’t you!” He leaned in close, til his nose brushed yours and you could smell the alcohol on his breath. You thought he was going to kiss you before he pulled back and appraised you. “What—plan A I’m your ride, plan B, you Uber?” He asks.

You nod.

“I’d never let you get into an Uber.” He scoffs and opens the door for you, guiding your body around the door and into the car.

He watches you buckle up, and waits patiently til you look up at him in question, wondering if he asked something you didn’t hear.

“What?” You ask softly, trying not to melt at the way he looked at you.

He shakes his head gently, “Nothin,” he leans closer to you, “Just… glad I don’t have to pretend anymore. Feels nice.” He smiles again. You nod in agreement. “Plus I need a kiss from my girlfriend if she wants a ride home.” He pauses right in front of your lips waiting to you to close the rest of the distance.

“Is that how it’s gonna be, Munson?” You ask.

He nods, “Oh, yeah, I’m capitalizing on it. I’ll do anything for you if it means I get a kiss.” He looks down to your lips and back up again.

You smile and push your lips to his, with more fervor than you did in the bar, his lips warmer and wetter than before. Eddie practically drops to his knees to keep the kiss going, internally debating on climbing inside the car this way until—

“Excuse me? Excu—Excuse me!” A voice said from in front of the car. You’re the one to pull out of the kiss, Eddie following you before following your gaze and finding the girl from earlier, her friends behind her as she holds her keys in her hand, “Can I get into my car please?” She asks in uncomfortable calm.

Eddie stands up, “Oh, yeah, for sure!” He shuts your door and jogs around the front of the car without another look in her direction, scrambling inside the car and starting it just to turn to you and pull you in to continue your kiss.

You crack your eyes open to find the girl’s friends opening the back doors to her car and piling in, as she remained frozen to the spot, her mouth dropped as she watched how Eddie kissed you. You close your eyes and open your mouth just a bit more and feel Eddie’s tongue slide inside, and you hate that you hoped she saw it.

You moan into his mouth and let him explore before tangling your tongue with his. His taste was intoxicating, even after the beer. Kissing him in his car was a different feeling than kissing in the bar, this was more private—special even.

You’d spent a lot of time in the passenger seat of his car, smoking, telling secrets, singing together, crying after hard days, eating take out when neither of you feel like cooking, it was another one of the places that was special to you because it was somewhere you shared with Eddie. And now you got to share this in here too.

Eddie let out a savoring groan before parting his lips from yours. “Now that, was unbelievable.” You said as he smiled in the same goofy way he always did.

You giggle and look away as he turns up the music and put the car in reverse. “Bet it won’t be the last time you say that tonight.” He says before sticking his tongue out. You look over at him with a glimmer in your eye and a smirk that had him driving 15 over the speed limit and kissing your hand every few seconds, like he had waited for this just as long as you had.

And just in case you’re wondering—Eddie had you calling him unbelievable (and a few other things) by the end of the night.

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