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cawcawbeech · 25 days

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SIX OF CROWS AND KISSING !!

(Welcome to this silly but intricate guide nobody asked for)

Just so everybody knows and is fully aware, I literally never kissed anybody in my whole damn life. I dont much care to try (for now) unless your name is Amita fucking Suman (jkjk, or not), but that doesnt mean I didnt do some very extensive research on the topic just so I can write what are hopefully non-generic scenes where all of my favorite characters make out till the following sunrise without a single other thought plaguing their empty little minds (exception being if the said thought is used to deepen 'the plot').

Before I say much else, I would like to note that THIS is just a very detailed bullet point list on kissing for all of my boys and girls separate of their partners assigned to them in canon or by the fandom. We will get to how it would actually go in different scenarios with different ships a bit later on if I decide it wont be a waste of my time. PS: No, not every kiss / kisser has to be extraordinary or unique or have whatever traits I ended up slapping on these characters here, Im just extra like that. And its not like anybody can stop me. Deal with it and simply enjoy (whatever this may be)!

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JESPER LLEWELLYN FAHEY

Jesper has had his fair share of practice in this particular field, we all know it. That is no reason to say that he is a perfect kisser, there are many who have done way more, constantly brag about it, and yet still leave you disappointed. But, this is Jesper we are talking about. Kuwei has said that he is a great kisser too, I choose to trust him on that. That joke he made to cheer up Wylan at Olendaal, the one about kissing Nina / Matthias 'with tongue', it doesnt have to mean anything, but I like to think he is a tongue kind of guy. I also like to think that he is adaptable to any type of person though, he aims to please through-and-through. It saddens me to look deeper, to think about how that may be a result of his low self-esteem, but in moments like these, it makes him happy most of the time, and it is all I could hope for when it comes to my boy.

The first relationship he had been a witness to, the one his mother and father shared before her death, had been a very healthy one. I wouldnt call Colm the perfect father, certainly not after his wife was gone, albeit he is significantly better compared to the hands the rest of our favourite characters have been dealth with, but he was good to Aditi. Most kids, including myself, were the type to be grossed out by PDA, especially when its between their parents, and while thats not in any way a bad thing, we can clearly see that Jesper was not of that type.

Despite his many faults, he was raised fairly well. He knows how to make a comfortable environment, to recognize a clear invitation, what to ask and what not to ask, what is acceptable and what he shouldnt do without a more in-depth discussion. He knows how to create and opportunity where one could deny him if they so wished. I wouldnt say its some overly high bar to jump over, if anything it is the most basic standard any and all should hold themselves to, but I call Jesper 'the consent king' for a reason.

Its said in the book that his mind empties when he kisses the right person, that thinking of methaphors clearly means something is wrong, but hes still pretty descriptive in his POVs if you ask me. Its also very clear that he likes to kiss deep, slow, and involve other sensations throughout which is the part where Id like to include some of my very own hcs (slight temperature / texture play where he drags his rings over skin, hair pulling is a given but I can see him also liking to touch peoples ears a lot, talking in between and whispering during the few subtly initiated pauses, etc). Jespers favourite type of kiss would probably be those he iniciates as soon as he wakes up in the morning. It rains often in Ketterdam, its normal, so he would also probably be one of the rare creatures among the regular Kerch citizens who finds kissing in the rain romantic.

KAZ BREKKER (RIETVELD)

Kaz will have to go through some major healing first, no doubts about that, but Id say he would probably be one of the elite members of the 'Im keeping my eyes open for this' club (until he isnt). I doubt he does much analyzing during, mentally he is on another planet thats probably many lightyears away as he tends to do with a lot of other even remotely intimate things, but theres lots of squinting, eyelid fluttering... Kaz is basically a personafication of that cliche 'when did I close them' quote. In my own experience, I can barely hold eye contact when talking, but I dont really see this as a bad trait. I also dont see it as a trauma response either like some would assume it would be for Kaz, I think its just a him thing. If this man didnt want to kiss somebody, you would not be kissing him, end of.

He likes to focus on teeth, whether by unconsciously (or consciously) biting his partner, having your teeth bump into each other, or licking his own after youre done. Theres lots of shuddering, youll feel him there more than youll hear him, but he is not completely silent either. I dont think he would like beeing cornered, picked up or lifted in any way except on very rare occasions. Just like the pulse thing where he feels for it on the wrist (or neck once he is more comfortable), feeling his weight including the pain of his leg serves to ground him. Perhaps he might also like feeling of you breathing through your nose on his face for the same reasons? He doesnt like leaving things unfinished, even if its just a peck, he will make sure it feels 'complete', I dont know how else to put it. If anybody could overuse the words "Again?", it would be Kaz motherfucking Brekker.

Im in no way saying he will be good, in fact, theres lots of traits here that many wouldnt like, but he tries when he wants to (and again, you would not be kissing this man if he didnt want it), he will learn and he will remember the smallest of details (so that he can ponder over them later). The only thing we hear about Kazs appearance related to his mouth is that there is a scar running through his upper lip. I never got it when people talked about kisses having a taste, but Kaz seems to often call people light-weight, so clearly, he handles his alcohol well, perhaps having developed such a habit to settle down his own supposedly non-existent nerves. It might not be the main reason, we heard about him being on the receiving end of many fights that in certain circumstances and with the ways they are handled lead to similar results, but liquor does leave one dehydrated and with chapped lips.

WYLAN VAN ECK (HENDRIKS)

Unless he is particulary fired up, Wylan likes to start slow and chaste no matter if you are the first, the thousanth person he has kissed or just a person he has kissed a thousand times. Unlike Kaz, he has some experience, sheltered kids know how to have fun in secret (and Im the last person who would ignore that 'lie' about him being kicked out for bedding the tutor, theres some truth to everything), but he is also nowhere near the level of Jesper or Nina or Matthias. We know he likes when his partner feels calm and like they are actually in their body before he goes in for the kill, we saw it with Jesper, but we also see that he isnt the type who needs to ask every time and will just do it when 'the time feels right'. Look out, he just might squeeze into your shirt while youre wearing it and do a makeshift 'surprise attack' from there if he is determined enough for it.

From that, we could say he might have some other habits, including but not limited to the familiar one of guiding his partner through breathing patterns. Maybe sometimes he likes to hold onto your forearms more tightly than necessary (not forcefully though), have your knees touch and bump into one another, straighten his own / your items of clothing, compare hand sizes while making weirdly-intense eye contact, use his thumb to subtly rub at a random tensed muscle, touch foreheads if he is tall enough or rub his face along the side of your neck, anything that would focus your attention to him and the moment... Ironically, as a follow up to the last point and as the kiss drags on, he forgets that he is an actual person who has a weight to them and has to lean back against something with the help of his partner before he falls down and cracks his goddamn skull open.

He likes to leave an effect on whoever he is kissing, but he also likes to 'clean up after himself' as much as possible after its done, which once again serves to bring both of you back down. So yeah, he would probably do something like twirling a stay peace of hair around his finger before neatly tucking it back in place, running that same finger across a brow, down the nose or along the jawline, nudging you playfully with his shoulder, hips or elbows, swaying a bit to slowly return the atmosphere back to relaxed as he secretely links your pinky fingers together. Lips would be his main focus, and he especially likes the soothing effect it has when he is sleepy, but he could also grow to like eyelid, nose, tummy or thigh kisses when it comes to placement.

INEJ GHAFA

Inej has had many men kiss her throughout her life, and unfortunately, theres no need to debate whether she truly enjoyed any of them. Oh how I would love to say that every shitty person is also shit at every other skill they try to master, however, that doesnt have to be the case. The fact that she was a brothel girl doesnt have to mean all of her kisses were bad (to specify, that refers to the technique). That being said, I think she would appreciate the message more than the way its done. It also might result in her not exactly caring about the placement of a kiss, palm, knuckles, hair, cheek, neck, lips, any of them would be equally as intimate to her, platonic or otherwise. Its somewhat similar to what Wylan also likes, but very different too once you look further.

As is with Kaz, you would not be kissing the Inej we know now unless she didnt want you to. I probably should have said this earlier, no, I dont mean that any of the other Crows would enjoy a kiss that was not what they wanted, they wouldnt ignore the signs and will fight the person off if needed, but I hope you understand why Im emphasizing it for these two in particular. I think her kisses would be short, but sweet, a petite little package that can deliver a punch under a right set of conditions, just like she can, the same going for her ship. Physically, we know her lips have an upturn to their shape. As is true with alcohol, salt water has the same drying effect that is only made worse by licking.

One other feature that might make Inejs kisses unique is a possibility of her aquiring more jewellery during her travels. I always imagined that the Suli find piercings to be very meaningful. Perhaps she had some since a very young age, perhaps they were taken from her too during her time at the Menagerie, maybe the holes closed naturally over the long months, maybe she got more whilst working for Kaz, and although it was not put there for such a reason, a lip ring (just as an example) has quite a pleasing effect for either side.

She holds a special appreciation for people who remember their first kiss, or at least remember their first kiss with her, a courtesy she will offer in return as well. It takes special kind of brave to get close (she knows better than most) and never lets the feat of overcoming fear go unappreciated. For some reason, I can see her counting the seconds, not for any reason at all. I wouldnt say its something particulary good nor bad, but Inej doesnt give me the 'let me kiss your words away' signals no matter the situation. The phrases that would fit more would be "We will get through this", "Stay strong, for you", "Lets face it together" or "We shall see each other once more". She seems like the type to keep her affairs secret, but at the end of the day, I also dont think she would mind PDA all that much.

KUWEI YUL-BO

I know the fandom likes to joke that Kuwei is the bad kisser between the two, seeing as to how Jesper was left 'disappointed' even before knowing the truth behind who he was actually kissing... But I dont think that had to do much with the kiss itself. We were told that Jesper liked Kuweis body plenty enough, but even if it were really Wylan (both in shape and spirit), Jesper wasnt in the right space, and Kuweis silence and mannerisms didnt do much to help.

Now, this is a personal headcanon, but one of the habits I think he might pick up in the Little Palace would be scratching his nose or covering his mouth before he goes in for a kiss. Or well, I like to imagine that being his tell among all the snarky comebacks, vicious flirting and sly glances. And seeing as to how playful he is with his powers and how much he grows to use them for mischief and otherwise in KOS, I like to think that his face is always warm to the touch as Kuwei himself is constantly touching it. Random instert, this man unironically likes lemons and you will without a doubt taste quite an assortment of teas while with him.

Some people care about the emotional setting, some like keeping it casual, and some like having that perfect mix of both. Kuwei might acknowledge that in different ways and act accordingly, but I also think he might care more about the physical setting and connect good actions with places rather than specific people or mutual feelings. This man is a certified tease, unless you pull him towards you which is exactly what he wants, he is 100%, absolutely ready to keep a partner on the edge of their seat, kiss the corner of their mouth, or maybe with the lips barely touching. Instead of licking his own lips out of habit or to seduce, he would lick yours. Kuwei being a tease might also be a way for him to set up walls? In a sense that hes reminding both himself and the person hes kissing that this is just a kiss and it doesnt mean anything. And when hes kissed by someone he loves and trusts, hes downright pathetic, super soft and annoyingly sweet about it.

I dont know where else to put it so it will have to be here, but I like to think he chewed on his lips a lot as a child and whilst in captivity, leaving him with barely visible indents once he reached adulthood. When it comes to the type, Id say he could end up enjoying goodnight kisses next to the fireplace or lit by the flame in his own hand more than he would like doing anything in the early morning. Kuwei tends to get frustrated and bored easily so that might lead to certain effects as well, more specifically the speed, angle and desperation. He has hid for long enough and doesnt much care about who sees what, only whether they got a nice view from wherever they were standing at the time.

NINA ZENIK

Nina has practiced CPR from a very young age (I wouldnt call any of those a true kiss by any means, but it will make slightly more sense in just a moment), we see her perform one on Kaz in the books without hesitation, so I doubt her first 'kiss' was particularly enjoyable or wholly consentual or that she even remembers it. Perhaps from that, her kisses would grow to be particulary breathy in the future, although that doesnt mean its some kind of rule or that its not just a result of her personality being put into how she goes about it. We already know temple kisses are her thing among some other stuff, but she also doesnt seem to have a similar kind of bond with any other type that is not at neck level or above. Shes fine with them, but always seems to go to certain spots herself when she has a choice, singing and laughing through all of it. As Matthias tends to say a lot, the chase is a game to her, whether on top or beneath, she still wins.

Her skin is said to be soft, and supposedly so are her lips, plus the girl is a Heartrender and that surely results in many privileges. Surprisingly enough, I wouldnt say she is particularly experienced in the world of romance, even if her talent at sweet-talking might suggest otherwise. Perhaps shes had flings, one or two, maybe even a relationship at some point, but I dont see much more in my visions of her backstory. "Dont you want to play with me?" and "Cant you handle it?" are some of the repeating phrases in her vocabulary, but oh, it only gets worse once she feels well and truly romanced, swept off her feet as one might say, and that takes lots of effort. Its a good thing we know Nina has some high expectations, that way all of us can be her personal wingmen.

If anybody could obtain the famous movie achievement of leaving a string of saliva to connect her lips with her partners for just a few more moments, it would be Nina. Speaking of such things, she may also be the only one for who the 'let me kiss you against this wall so that they dont spot us' scenario might actually work (in theory), or at least give her enough time to incapacitate them during their confusion since she tends to be quite loud appearance wise. Likes being attended to and coddled, and no kiss has a chance without a firm grab or two. Will die if you do a tango dip with her in your arms. She is one of the biggest fans of mistletoes and finds it extremely romantic. Sometimes, when she is invited to watch a play or show, she will turn around and kiss her partner whenever the actors do. "Consider me madly in love. With the kisses, not you. ... But maybe also you if you did it again."

MATTHIAS BENEDIK HELVAR

And finally, we have our romantic-at-heart of the group, Matthias. Now, his and Ninas romance is the most obvious and out-in-the-open throughout the whole duology, and frankly he is the one I had the most trouble with writing, but the difference between seeing their first kiss from Ninas perspective and the one of Matthias is that theirs was his first kiss ever. All of his actions leading up to it, as well as those after, are a promise in some way or another, and Im not only talking about his vow to her. Nothing could have prepared me for when he lifted Nina straight off her feet and held her there as he kissed her, yet it was also the most in-character thing he ever could have done.

Matthias will absolutely, every time, start an hour long conversation on what led him to this moment, if it is the right time, the right place, the right everything... He will continue up until he himself is basically internally shouting at his own mouth to shut itself (he has very low patience despite everything mentioned above) or his partner takes the initiative themselves. The second option is prefered by both parties and a 5-star whine is the expected plus-one to excellent service. He is the type to gulp when you get too close. Will go mad if you can tell when he is holding on by a thread despite his lack of many facial expressions, especially if told something along the lines of "Just lose control, love".

He is particularly sensitive for textures. All humans are to some extent, the lips have more nerve endings in them than fingertips, but Matthias is the one who is fullfilled by it the most and frequently says stuff related to it like "Are you wearing chapstick?" or "I can feel the dip of your scar". Often acknowledges indirect kisses. Matthias has once said that kissing isnt about romance, that it should be proper and only done as a follow up to a conventional Fjerdan courtship, and while lots about him has changed during his canonical relationship with Nina, I think he might still enjoy going through at least some of these with somebody who might appreciate his efforts. Matthias is still highly religious even if he is now seeing the world from another perspective and there are some cultural things that for him go deeper than just tradition. In a very specific headcanon of mine, he has grown up fantasizing about having to lift up your chin to do it, and so now he does so even with taller partners who can reach his mouth just fine.

He would 100% take the 'Will you love me if I was a worm' jokes way too seriously. "How am I supposed to handle a worm? I could hold a butterfly, maybe kiss you if you were a wolf (but thats after a very extensive inspection of your molars)". Kisses the back of your neck after putting on a necklace. Pretends that lipstick stains dont turn him on to the highest setting.

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#six of crows #grishaverse #jesper fahey #kaz brekker #wylan van eck #inej ghafa #kuwei yul bo #nina zenik #matthias helvar #kisses #character analysis #*screams into the void*#hope you enjoy #feel free to share your thoughts #💚🖤🧡💜💛💙❤️#fandom ships #writers on tumblr #fanfiction

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captainpoopweinersoldier · 1 year

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With Compliments | Jake x FReader

18+ Only; Smut; Quickie both literally and figuratively. Holidays do me in so here’s a thing in which a certain hot bartender helps you cope; Established relationship.

Words: 2.3k

Link to AO3

In retrospect, if there was one silver lining to the evening, at least it was discovering this new brand of coping mechanism. Even if a total lapse in rationale could be blamed; patience all but out the window mere moments after arriving at the restaurant on a goddamn holiday. Your family was unbearable, constantly bickering, superficial. So passive aggressively judgemental that you’d gone as far as keeping them in the dark over the fact that you actually waitressed here.

What luck they decided to splurge on an outing to the fine dining location on your one rare day off rather than settle for the traditional turkey dinner at home on Long Island.

The rapid rise in volume between patrons and the inlaws and the cousins and their children - made you wince, and the second glass of wine was barely doing much to help.

Yet just as you take the last sip, a third drink is set in front of you. You raise a brow at the flaming old fashioned and glance up to see Will with his usual boyish smile.

“With compliments.”

All the staff know the truth of course. Thankfully they keep the secret quiet, even if the bartender is a little less subtle.

Ignoring your family’s dramatic remarks, you eye him across the large expanse of the room, finding his equally frustrating and endearing smug smirk as you set your palm on the glass to put out the flame.

Naturally, that’s about all it takes for you where Jake is concerned. The light’s a touch too dim and the bar a foot too far away to see him perfectly clear amid the crowd, but the effect is still there in those narrowed up-to-no-good blue eyes, the amused purse of his lips as he gazes steadily back.

You take an all too unceremonious swig of your drink, its burn barely registering as you rise from the table in the next fluid motion. Without explanation or sensibility, you're crossing the floor. Shooting him a look so pointed that - were it any other day, any other circumstance where you weren't so clearly tense with angst - maybe he'd show a little more restraint. Instead he tells Nicky to cover him and keeps an inconspicuous distance as he follows you to the second floor.

Said circumstance is far from your mind a moment later. Jake's body a welcome distraction as he keeps your back pinned to a shelving unit, kissing you until your lungs gasp for air and you feel weak in the knees.

You're in a storage room somewhere between the lockers and Howard's office. Some boxes and Tupperware clatter to the floor amid the heated exchange, but all that really matters is that there's a lock on the door granting you this moment of privacy.

His chuckle rumbles at your jaw as you all but snatch at his apron, the noise low and reverberating through his chest in a way that spurs goosebumps on the nape of your neck.

"Seriously?" he prods dryly. And while sex in the workplace isn't something you ever considered, his reputation proceeds him and you figure it's a safe assumption he's done this before.

You try to mask the neediness in your voice, a fruitless attempt from the way his apron is flung aside, fingers hurrying as they latch onto his belt next. "Are you turning me down?"

His gaze finds yours and you're thankful the lights are switched on, able to see him clearly, his eyes shades darker as he looks down at you with cuts of breath rasping through his flushed pink lips.

"No," he says firmly. He brushes your tangled hair back, his hands trail down your ribcage, then his lips part suggestively and he grabs your ass. "Just don’t like having to rush with you.” He easily hoists you off your feet and the feel of his trim figure nestling between your thighs is relief enough to make your contented sigh sound more like a choked sob.

You’re considerate of his shirt, not wanting to muss or wrinkle the stripes while he’s only halfway through his shift. Instead you settle for his hair, fingertips nestling into the black mess of it as his mouth finds yours in another kiss so bruising that you find it lucky you opted against lipstick for the outing. Jake tastes good, leaves a trace of lemon on your lips, and you moan around his tongue as it licks into your mouth.

Luckier still is the outfit you’re wearing. The tunic blouse makes for easy access. Jake’s hands roam, cool on your stomach, forceful when one shoves beneath a cup of your bra, clenching roughly around your nipple till you’re squealing.

You break away gasping, urging him on faster, rapidly growing more and more impatient. Only to swoon at his look of determination, a pinch set between his brows as he moves just as briskly to yank at your leggings with his free hand. The fabric is just stretchy and malleable enough that he can tug them past your ass to mid-thigh and still keep you parted for him; the audible strained tear of panties follows shortly after.

Strapped for time, any chance of foreplay ends there. Jake presses against you impossibly closer, finishing the job of undoing his belt, and it’s a combined effort that has you untucking his shirt as he rucks down his pants.

“Jake, please,” you urge again breathlessly. And for a second he dares to tease you; slicks his swelled head along your aching heat, and the effect is instant. Your hips lurch and your back arches, a shelf digs into your shoulders eliciting a hissed curse while Jake keeps you steady. A quiet shush tickles your skin, but when he fills you with his cock, it takes your all not to shake the room with your voice.

He readjusts, lithe hands glued to your thighs, and the next thrust has strength enough to make your jaw clatter. “Quiet, quiet,” he murmurs at your throat, voice deep and thick, a groan seeping into his words as he sets a haste pace. The abrupt, delectable pain evens into something that shoots sparks behind your eyelids; it’s a harder feat now, keeping from tearing at his shirt, and you settle for wrangling the knot of his tie. “Feels good? Better?”

“Let’s see how far you get first,” you manage to sass, though the slur of your tongue gives you away. Really, all you can think is finally. Having what you were suddenly so desperate for - Jake providing distraction and solace in equal measure to the deeper feelings you already have for him.

For a moment your eyes meet and there’s the glint of adoration alight in his gaze, and you both barely manage to share a laugh with each other when Jake’s mouth crashes on yours again. Hungry and devouring, with little finesse but enough to swallow the pathetic sounds you make.

It hardly even lasts - quickly reverts to harsh panting as he fucks you harder. The shelving at your back rattles unsteadily, something else falls to the floor. But where typically you might fret over it, now your mind is only fervent bliss, reeling each time he fills you completely with a satisfying stretch. He knows how to hit just right and it shows in the quake of your thighs, the steady rise of pleasure blooming in the depths of your gut. You think he can make you come like this alone, tell him as much with a begging whisper at his lips.

He moves then - your own resolve keeps your thighs locked around his waist - lifting a hand to clasp your jaw with his thumb toying at your lips. The other joins it with altogether different purpose - his middle and index fingers prod at the seam and you open. Let the digits slip along your tongue. His eyes narrow at the sight, and when your hollowed cheeks eagerly suck, his breath hitches in his throat. His hips stutter sharply and off rhythm, as if the supple motion nearly finishes him on the spot.

Quickly he withdraws, and the hand disappears between your bodies. Slinks through the tangled mess of bunched fabric where those long fingers deftly find your clit.

“Jake, Jake -”

“I said - quiet,” he says slowly. And though there’s a shaky edge to his voice, that low vibrato that sends you about as much as his body does, there’s a playful upturn to the corner of his mouth. Watching you fall apart as he rolls your clit between the pads of his fingers in perfect harmony with his unyielding thrusts. The caustic coil lashes at you inside; bursts and trickles through your limbs and you almost can’t hold back the loud moan threatening your lungs.

Jake can feel it as you come undone, revels in your hoarse cry. His face burrows into the crook of your neck to stifle his own noise as your cunt throbs and shudders around him. He tears at the neck of your blouse, his teeth find your bared shoulder and he clamps down as he follows. Tensing with a final snap of his hips, unmoving with his cock pulsing and buried deep, and finally he melts. Spills himself into your tight heat with a guttural exhale.

Break time is most assuredly over, cutting short the much preferred option of drinking in the moment to stay wrapped up in Jake just a second longer. Instead, it’s back to business as you both gather yourselves and right your clothes. The panties are a lost cause and you think that the trembling in your hands will stop by the time you get back to the table. But other than that, there's hopefully no other evidence as to what you’ve been up to.

“You always act out when they’re in town?” Jake teases eventually. He’s still catching his breath and you try not to focus on the way his chest heaves in his snug shirt as he fixes his tie.

“And to think I almost forgot they were here…” you tell him dryly.

“Guess I’ll have to try harder.” He moves close again after collecting his apron, slides his hand over the curve of your neck. But it’d likely make things easier if he didn’t touch you at all. The small gesture is enough to make you want to be smothered by him, and there’s too many hours to go before he’s off work and you’re unburdened of relatives.

“I think I like it when you use me,” he adds, and you try not to combust. He leans in for a kiss, but you stop him just before it lands and his brows furrow in question.

“It doesn’t bother you, does it? That they don’t know about you?”

“Well then that’d make things serious.” His eyes briefly widen as he enunciates the word.

“Jake.”

He sobers up and considers it. With a deep breath, sets his forehead on yours, running his knuckles across your skin. “It doesn’t bother me. I can stay the fuck out of it until you say so.”

It wasn’t intentional, not like the secret of your current place of employment. But it was nice to feel like Jake was just - yours. And not to be inspected under a microscope like some sort of science project.

“I gotta go,” Jake says, and kisses you like he intended. Short but sweet, those soft lips make your eyelids flutter. “You look nice. Walk me home later?”

You smile fully for the first time that night. “Of course.”

It’s late by the time you make it back to the restaurant. Shift drinks well underway, and while it’s half-tempting to join in, you don’t exactly have the stamina. So you hover by the side door near the bar, opting to wait outside in the cityscape of neon lights and wet sidewalk busied with passerby. It always seemed a little weird how night life thrived for Thanksgiving, of all things…

Ari spots you first as you peer in - cigarette in one hand, drink in the other and makes a show of it in a bid to get you inside. Soon enough, the others take notice and it becomes an absurd raucous group effort that makes your face grow hot with mortification, just knowing they’ll bust your balls after serving your family.

You’re about to step back - wait at a smidge further distance when the door flies open and Jake swarms your vision.

He’s out of uniform now, donned in jeans and a leather jacket and even if the stripes don’t look half bad on him, this is a much more welcome view.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” It comes out playfully, but honestly, all you want to do is paw at him.

Jake takes your hand and you just manage to catch the blush land on his cheeks when he holds up a large takeaway cup.

“I made you something.”

You eye it warily, but you take it from him and have a sip from the straw.

Its chill hits a little harder in the cold air, but it’s bubbly, and just the right amount of sweet, with something rich in it that immediately heats your belly. It’s delicious. And you can’t help but feel a little sheepish over licking your lips while Jake stares intently.

“What is that?”

With a small tug, he leads you down the sidewalk and in the direction of his apartment. “Champagne.. A little raspberry. And gin.”

“Oh, so we’re getting fucked up tonight.”

You almost pout when he lets go of your hand, but it’s only so he can drape his arm over your shoulders; keep you snug and tight against his warmth as you take a few more sips. “How else am I gonna take advantage of you?”

“It’s yummy.”

“You’re yummy.”

“Shut up.”

#jake sweetbitter #jake sweetbitter x reader #tom sturridge #sweetbitter #my fic

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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 6 months

Note

Silly little cafe job anon again !! I did actually see Buff Guy "Changbin" and Dark Academia "Seungmin" again! With different friend this time. They were in a group of four and "binnie" had definitely come from the gym this time. He still had on that sinful black compression shirt but this time he had a dark gray zip up like half zipped over it and these black joggers on that I think we're just a little bit too small bc when he sat down I could See His Thighs Very Well iykim. "Seungie" still had on the trenchcoat and the button up and the slacks but he also had on a cute lil chunky knit sweater vest on too. I'm ngl he looked like he would become a young hot professor like he had those vibes yk. The new third guy fr looked like he just woke up but like,, in a hot way. Like he had the just rolled out of bed nicely tousled hair, a random dark blue hoodie I think and the worst/best part was he had on The Gray Sweatpants... yeah... But he basically came in and ordered w his friends and when they all sat down he put in some headphones and started working on his laptop. Basically he screamed chan to me. The last fourth guy was my favorite tbh. He had on these cute straight leg jeans w like butterflies bleached onto them, a long sleeve mock neck white shirt, and a light blue button up on w daisies on it I think? It has some kind of tiny like garden print. So yeah very jinnie to me.

So "binnie" started the order train with "this might be a bit odd" and tbh he was right. He ordered a frozen lemonade w watermelon and strawberry in it. Now the cafe I work at is pretty chill abt ordering off the menu as long as you're willing to pay the extra for us staff having to come up w how to actually work it out, so a frozen lemonade w some extra fruit wasn't that hard. I think he also got a blueberry scone so he def likes fruit lol. "Seungie" got another flat white w an extra shot + cinnamon and one of our seasonal pumpkin spice muffins. "Channie" got like,, the oddest drink imo. He ordered just like a plain oolong tea, but when he got his drink he walked over to the little stand w all the sugar and creamer and I watched him pour literally 6 packets of sugar in there. Absolutely wild. "Jinnie" got a mint hot cocoa w extra marshmallows and a brownie I think.

So the way this cafe works is that if you order a pastry or a drink that can be made quickly we'll just give it to you at the counter but otherwise we'll make it and then bring it to wherever you've decided to sit. So I gave them all their pastries and they went and sat down while me and my coworker made the drinks. Now we used to have these metal trays you could use to carry large orders, but people kept stealing them or dropping and denting them so we got rid of them. So now I have to figure out how to carry these four drinks to this table without spilling anything bc I'm not gonna shout thru the cafe for them to come get their drinks right. As I'm staring at the drinks trying to figure out a good way to do this, "jinnie" comes up and asks if I need help. I guess either he or one of the other guys noticed my struggle and he came to help. Literally would have kissed him right then and there if I were braver. Anyway we both carry over their drinks and they all immediately thank me like idk maybe the bar is too low but I thought they were really sweet. So yeah I love my silly little cafe job bc then I get to see fine men who are also nice <3

God fucking dammit.

Of course Changbin man would get fruit lemonade. THAT TRACKS BECAUSE ITS CANON (Yuzu anyone?)

I love this.

Please always update us on your universe.

Cafe anon is now your handle unless you want something else! <3

#skz #stray kids #inbox #reply #stay #ask #moots #mutuals #anon #cafe anon #anonymous #sweet nonnie #my submissions #submission

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lucysweatslove · 1 year

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(Tw ED related stuff under the readmore, this time talking about purging too)

(Don’t worry I’m safe/fine and didn’t engage in any disordered behavior)

So y’all know how I went on a hike yesterday and saw beautiful foresty sights?

Well idk how many calories I actually burned because fuck that, but I was out for a while, about 2.5 hours of actual moving but that involves very slow going on snowy patches. I spent maybe half an hour total with taking pics or stopping for a snack midway, some of that time getting low underneath trees to get closer to the creek (which was very active!).

Anyway, I was SUPER HUNGRY yesterday which is totally fine because 2.5 hours of activity requires fuel.

But today I’ve been having like a really hard time feeling full and satisfied, which is probably also related to hiking. Doubly annoying is that my body doesn’t want protein. Like I had a protein heavy breakfast but needed to pair it with potatoes (which, like carrots, are absolutely not a vegetable 😉) and toast because alone the idea of eggs and a vegan sausage like. I felt nauseated thinking about it.

Now I believe my body is trying to replenish its glycogen and is like “feed me carbs so I can continue to take you on hikes through knee deep snow!” which is fine but I don’t make carb heavy meals. Like they just aren’t in my repertoire of things to cook. And the few I do make that are carb heavy are also still protein heavy- like a turkey bagel sandwich is carb heavy because carbs in bagel, but I also put goat cheese (maybe with avo) and deli turkey on it and have vegetables and dip which I like with yogurt. Even my pasta is more protein heavy because I use lentil pasta (I honestly love the taste). Anyway most of the meals I know how to make and can do without much executive planning will have 25-35g protein in it.

And my body today is just not wanting it. I try, and the moment meat is being cooked, or cooked meat is being prepared, or I even smell the yogurt or milk, I literally feel so sick.

I could just eat carby things alone but something about it ALSO felt wrong- like just a bagel? Boring. Bagel with jam? Also boring. Also, snacky. I couldn’t bring myself to actually make a meal- even like, cutting up fruit I just couldn’t do. It didn’t make any sense to me. So after breakfast I finished an older protein bar I had forgotten about from last week, and then just didn’t eat.

Husband made (quite large) garlic knots tonight to use up old pizza dough. THIS smelled divine. I ate one- still hungry. Second- still hungry. Third- why tf am I still hungry? He only made 6, 3 for me and 3 for him, so I couldn’t have another one. So I was rummaging through the cabinets and remembered all the candy and treats we got on Sunday. I still had some of those, so I finished off the licorice and hello panda cookies (maybe 1-1.5 “recommended servings” left for each), have a couple pieces of fruit mochi, even have some coffee candies and a lychee gummy because they sounded super good. I was sipping water throughout too, as I do throughout the day.

But nope, still hungry. And now I’m craving something salty. Like great I satisfied my need for carbs, but my body is still hungry and is now wanting salt. So I have a couple handfuls of cashews. Keep in mind this is all spread out around 3.5 hours. It’s not all at once. I’m giving myself time to eat, to get it in my body, have my hormones adjust to the new fuel, etc.

Finally, after the cashews, I feel ACTUALLY satisfied and full. Not sick full but like, appropriate full. The full that means I won’t be hungry at an inappropriate time but I’m not over full. No more cravings. Like “move on with your life” full.

But what does my brain decide to do with this? It’s like I’m 19 or 20 again and my brain is saying “nope we can’t feel full, hunger is good, get rid of it.” (Note: I primarily exercise purged, so this little voice isn’t just like throw it up or abuse laxatives, which I also have done, but also “count up all the calories, try to estimate, and then go to the gym and burn it all off, you haven’t gone since Tuesday!”)

It’s just this small little instinctual urge which is likely coming up because stress and new scholastic endeavors and being forced to have people perceive me. Just got me in that old headspace again because of situational similarities.

Also: the fact that it was cashews that did it at the very end is killing me. Like not even after the mochi or the lychee gummy. Something with micronutrients and very very much needed salt because I DO get dizzy without it. Something traditionally considered “healthy.” THAT is what turned ED brain on. It’s literally about how full or empty I feel and how many calories I believe I’ve eaten vs burned in a day. Doesn’t matter where it’s from. Oats or chocolate or molasses or fucking carrots or nuts.

I’m just annoyed that even this far into/past recovery, my brain still goes back ten years when my body literally just feels NORMAL. Ten years into recovery and my brain is STILL triggered sometimes just by *actually feeling fully and completely satisfied.*

Anyway: I’m totally safe, not going to do anything, it was just like this little whisper of old times which I can easily tell to stfu now, but these moments are so rare I forget they exist and when they come back, it’s just a reminder that I will likely always have them trying to peak through stressful times.

#tw ed discussion #tw purging #tw purge #ed recovery

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atlfics · 2 years

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Save Me From Myself- All Time Low Fanfiction

Unable to shake a feeling of concern, Alex goes home with Jack after a night out. Word Count: 3465

TW: alcohol, suicidal thoughts, referenced self-harm

More notes at the end.

“I can’t believe that we were at this bar for three whole hours, and you only had two drinks, Jack!” Rian exclaimed, stumbling out of the bar he’d spent the evening at with Alex, Jack and Zack following him.

“I just, um, I thought I’d take it easy tonight,” Jack replied, wearing a smile that was supposed to be reassuring.

Alex could tell his friend’s smile was forced, even through his alcohol-induced haze.

“Well, this has to be, like, a new record low for you. I’ve literally never seen you drink so little while out!” Rian continued.

Jack tried to discreetly roll his eyes, but Alex still noticed.

“Hey, let’s not make Jack feel weird for drinking responsibly, we don’t want to deter him from doing it again in the future, right?” Alex lightheartedly said, hoping Rian would back down since he was clearly saying something that Jack didn’t like.

“I guess you’re right, Alex. Anyway, tonight was really fun, I wish it didn’t have to end!” Rian exclaimed, almost falling over but being grabbed by Zack at just the right time.

“It was, but I think it’s about time you get home, man. You’ve had quite a bit tonight,” Zack said, laughing as he put his arm around Rian’s shoulders so he wouldn’t fall over again.

“Maybe you should Uber back with him, just to make sure he doesn’t pass out on his doorstep,” Alex suggested to Zack, earning a confused look from both Jack and Zack.

“Why are you volunteering Zack? Why don’t you go with him, Alex?” Jack questioned.

Alex could tell that Jack knew he was working an angle, he just hoped that Jack wasn’t totally sure as to what that angle was.

“Nah, I’m going with you back to your place. I left a, um, a shirt there last time I was over, and I really need it back,” Alex replied, hoping what he’d said sounded the least bit believable.

Zack gave Alex a weird look, and Alex turned away from Jack, only facing Zack and a blacked-out Rian, then gave him a look, trying to say ‘just go with it’ without actually speaking.

“Oh yeah, you should do that, Alex. I’ve got Rian, I think it’s my turn to take care of a severely inebriated friend, since you’re usually the one doing that with Jack,” Zack joked, forcing a laugh.

“Exactly! Anyway, I’ll get the Uber and pay for it, Jack. See, you’re getting a free ride home!” Alex exclaimed, pulling out his phone and quickly booking the Uber before Jack could protest.

“Okay, whatever, dude,” Jack said, before starting to stare off into space.

Zack got an Uber for himself and Rian, then the four of them awkwardly waited for their rides, saying absolutely nothing to each other. Alex knew he’d been acting weird in that moment, but in his defense, Jack had been acting weird for the past month now.

He’d grown distant, didn’t act like his normal, fun-loving self, and just seemed to have a much darker personality. Tonight, all those concerns had reached a major peak, with the lack of drinking and having fun, and he’d hardly spoken at all, every word he did say seemed extremely forced. On top of that, he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt in the middle of July, which was a red flag all on its own.

Alex wasn’t totally sure as to why he was going with Jack, or even how long he’d stay with Jack, but he had a bad feeling about tonight, and decided that being there might help prevent something that could be avoided. He did kind of lie, he was definitely going to be there longer than it would take for him to just get his shirt and leave, but Jack, and the others, didn’t need to know that, at least, not yet.

Eventually, the Ubers showed up, and after saying their goodbyes, they got into the correct cars, then started in the direction of home. In the Uber, Jack sat behind the driver’s seat, and was scooted as close to the wall as possible, he crossed his arms over his stomach, and mindlessly looked out the window. Even this was concerning for Alex, Jack normally loved to shoot the shit with the driver, normally to the point of annoying them with the amount of conversation.

Alex felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, so he pulled it out, starting to feel relieved that Jack wasn’t looking, since he had a pretty strong prediction as to who it was texting him.

Zack: Well, Rian just puked in the Uber. Going to be a long night. Hey, why were you so hellbent on going with Jack?

Alex: To be fully honest, I’m a bit worried about him. Like, he’s been so distant and not himself lately, and I have a weird, uncomfy feeling about tonight. I don’t know why, I don’t know what I’m worried he’ll do, but I want to be with him for just in case. Maybe I’m crazy, but I just feel super weird about shit right now.

Zack: Ah, makes sense. Honestly, I’ve been a bit worried about him too. Good on you for making sure he’ll be okay. Does he know you plan on staying a while?

Alex: Absolutely the fuck not. I can’t tell him that without telling him that I’m worried about him, and possibly starting some big thing that could be avoided. I’ll just play by ear and see what happens. I’ll update you if something does. Also, good luck with Rian, puking in an Uber is pretty bad, lol

Zack: You’re telling me! Sounds good, if you need anything, let me know. Love you, man.

Alex: Same to you.

As the car turned down Jack’s street, Alex put his phone away, and took some deep breaths; when he’d come up with this plan at the bar, it didn’t seem so scary, but now that they were actually within walking distance to Jack’s house and that uncomfortable conversation that was bound to happen was closer to actually happening, everything started feeling a lot more real.

“You guys have a good night,” the driver said, snapping Alex back to reality as he pulled into Jack’s driveway.

“You too, thanks for the ride,” Jack said, unbuckling his seatbelt and stepping out of the car.

“Thanks, man,” Alex said, before getting up and following Jack to the front door.

Jack quickly unlocked the door, then led the two of them inside and over to the living room. Alex took a seat on the sectional, and a confused look immediately appeared on Jack’s face.

“What’re you doing? Didn’t you say you just had to grab a shirt?” Jack asked, sitting down on the other side of the couch.

“Yeah, but I thought we could, um, hang out for a bit! I mean, if you have something you have to do, then I can go, but I’d love to spend some time together! Just the two of us!” Alex exclaimed, trying to sound excited in hopes that it would make the idea more appealing to Jack.

Jack looked away from Alex for a moment, seemingly trying to gather his thoughts and pick what would be best to say before just blurting something out.

“Oh okay, yeah, um, we can do that. I just don’t want you to have to stay out too late or anything, getting a ride back might be harder,”

“True, but I think it’ll be fine. Besides, if it does get to be too late to get an Uber, maybe I can just stay the night? Hey, that might actually be kind of fun, we could have a sleepover just like back in high school! We can make a blanket fort and watch movies and have some snacks!”

Alex felt shitty for inviting himself over; normally, that was something that he’d never even think of doing, he knew it was rude to impose on someone, especially so last minute, but he couldn’t shake the weird feeling he felt when the thought of leaving Jack by himself crossed his mind.

“Um, sure, we can do that, if you really want to. Are you sure you want to sleep in a blanket fort out here? I mean, the guest bed might be comfier,” Jack tried, but Alex could see through it; Jack wanted to do something, and he didn’t want Alex to know about it.

“Oh, I’m sure! It’ll be so much fun! It’ll be just like we’re in high school again! Come on, let’s build us a fort!” Alex exclaimed, bolting up from the couch and making his way over to the linen closet where Jack kept a bunch of extra blankets and sheets.

Reluctantly, Jack got up and joined Alex, helping him grab blankets to construct their fort. Alex grabbed some tape and a couple of the dining room chairs so they’d have something to build the fort on, then the two of them started working together to construct their fort. After a few minutes and a lot of frustration, the fort was done. It didn’t look great, their forts normally never did, but it was done, and that was what mattered.

“Well, I guess it’s done,” Jack said, lacking any emotion in his voice.

The two of them stepped back some and admired their work.

“I guess so! That was a hell of a lot harder than I remember it being, but still fun! I’m glad we figured out how to get the TV in there, too. Remember how we always had to use a laptop inside if we wanted to watch stuff when we’d do this in high school? This is a major upgrade!” Alex exclaimed.

He knew that he was being a bit over the top, and that Jack would probably call him out on it eventually, but for now, Alex didn’t care. Sure, all the extra excitement and gimmicks were probably a little too much, but he desperately hoped that some of his positivity would rub off on Jack.

“Yeah, for sure. I guess I can get us some snacks if you want to put something on. Is there anything specific you want?”

“Nah, you can pick! I’ll be in the fort!”

With that, Jack slowly walked into the kitchen, and Alex made his way into the fort then turned on the TV. Jack had made a good point, the floor wasn’t super comfortable, but that was okay, Alex decided that he’d rather be a little uncomfortable for one night than regretful about not doing something in the worst-case scenario.

Eventually, Jack crawled into the fort and put the pile of snacks he’d brought between the two of them. Their backs were up against Jack’s sectional, and there were pillows behind them, softening the area where their backs were. They each had a blanket over top of them, and there was a thick mattress topper on the floor, making it so that their butts wouldn’t go numb after sitting for too long.

“I grabbed some sweet stuff and some salty stuff, so hopefully there’s something in here you’ll like,” Jack said, opening a bag of Doritos.

“That sounds good to me! I was doing some channel surfing and saw that the first Hangover movie is on! Is that cool with you?” Alex asked, grabbing a couple of the Oreos that Jack had brought out.

“Sure, that’s fine with me. I haven’t seen that movie in forever,”

Alex put the movie on and turned up the volume some. The roof of their fort hung in a bit and blocked part of the TV, but neither of them got up to fix it. The two of them watched the movie, and Alex felt more concerned when Jack didn’t laugh at the parts he normally lost his mind over, he just silently watched and ate some of the snacks he’d brought out.

Occasionally, Alex would glance over to Jack and try to see if he could figure out what was going on just by looking at his friend, but he couldn’t tell anything. He knew that he should just let it go, he was with Jack, making sure that he was safe, continuing to investigate almost felt invasive, but he couldn’t help it. Eventually, Jack reached for the TV remote, and muted the movie.

“Is everything okay?” Alex asked, feeling that anxiety from earlier pool in his stomach; he was certain that the uncomfortable conversation he’d been dreading was about to happen.

“Alex, why are you here?” Jack bluntly asked, catching Alex off guard.

“What do you mean? We’re hanging out,”

“No, why are you really here? You always plan to hang out, like, a month in advance, and now you’re wanting me to believe you just had this spontaneous idea to sleepover?”

“Um, well, I thought of it when we were out, I thought doing something would be fun!”

“Are you sure that’s what it was? You just wanted to have fun? Are you positive you weren’t trying to help something that you don’t know anything about?” Jack continued, his tone a bit harsh.

“Well, are you implying that there’s something that needs helping? I’m just wondering, because I never said that there was,”

“Okay, true, but you’re being overly positive, and super cheery. I know you’re a generally happy guy, but this is a lot, even for you,”

“Do you want to know the truth, Jack?”

“Um, yeah, that was kind of the point in asking you,”

Alex took a deep breath; he wasn’t sure what to say or where to start. Of course, there was a reason that he was being super cheerful and had decided to stay at Jack’s place that night, and he wanted to just be honest and say it, but he didn’t want to overstep or say something that he maybe shouldn’t. At this point, though, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to produce an answer that Jack deemed ‘right’ or ‘okay’, so just going for it would probably be for the best.

“Okay, look, here’s the thing. Lately, I’ve been a bit concerned about you. Like, you’ve been kind of distant, you’ve not really acted like yourself, and you just seem kind of down. I don’t know why, but I had kind of a weird feeling about you going home alone. Like I said, I don’t really know why, I don’t even know what I thought would happen, but I still had that gut feeling. I’m sorry if I’m making you feel weird by saying that, and I’m sorry if I’m totally wrong and looking at this incorrectly, but that’s what it was,” Alex confessed, word vomiting out of anxiety.

The stern look on Jack’s face quickly softened, and tears started to fill his eyes. Before Alex could say anything, Jack started to cry, burying his head into his hands as he attempted to suppress his sobs. Not knowing what to do or say, Alex moved the pile of food that was between them, and put an arm around Jack, hugging him tightly to his side as he cried.

This went on for a few minutes, Alex really wanted to say something to fix whatever was wrong, but he didn’t know what that should be, so he settled for hugging his friend and rubbing his back until Jack’s crying started to dwindle.

“Jack, I’m sorry if I said something-“

“Alex, I was going to try to kill myself tonight,” Jack confessed, catching Alex totally off guard.

“Wait, what do-“

“I was going to try to end my life. Shit has been so fucking hard lately, I’ve been so depressed and have felt so hopeless and nothing has felt okay for a while now. If you hadn’t been here, I probably would have gone through with my plan,”

“Jack, holy shit,” Alex breathlessly said, unsure of what words he could say to make this situation feel better.

“I guess your intuition, or whatever it was, was correct. I was fully planning on trying to ending it all, that’s why I was so put off when you said you wanted to stay the night; obviously I couldn’t go through with anything like that while you’re here in the house, y’know? I was kind of mad at you for a bit, but now, after what you said and hearing how much you care, I just- thank you. Alex, thank you so much,” Jack continued, his voice wavering since he was still crying some.

Alex wrapped his other arm around the front of Jack, pulling him into an even tighter hug, at a loss for words again. Sure, he’d been concerned about Jack doing something, but he didn’t think that his suspicion would be confirmed true. Jack buried his head into the area between Alex’s neck and shoulder and tried to take deep breaths as more tears spilled from his eyes.

“Jack, um, I don’t even know what to say. I guess that this is all kind of hard to process,” Alex eventually said, continuing to rub Jack’s back as Jack kept his head buried.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to have the answers or try to ‘therapy’ me,” Jack replied, slightly muffled by Alex’s shoulder.

“Well, I wouldn’t even know how, to be honest. Speaking of therapy, are you still seeing your therapist? You know, the one you were seeing before our last tour?”

“Honest answer? No, I haven’t been. I was seeing her virtually for the first half of tour, then decided that I was okay enough to stop, at least temporarily. After we got back, I started spiraling pretty bad, like, I felt like I had no purpose. I was really depressed and even hurt myself; only, like, twice, but I know I shouldn’t have done it at all. I kept telling myself I’d call her and start seeing her again, but I never did, and I got to a point where ending it felt easier than reaching out and trying to get better. I went back and forth on that idea, I know that it isn’t the right solution, but the urge has been really strong. That’s why I was going to do it tonight, I would see you and the other two one last time, then that would be that,” Jack admitted, sounding as vulnerable as he felt.

Hearing all of this scared Alex, obviously he was glad that he had stopped Jack from going through with his plan, but just knowing what could’ve happened if he’d not been as attentive was a heavy weight to bear.

“Well, maybe in the morning, we can both call your therapist and ask if she can start seeing you again. Or, you can do it alone, whatever feels the best for you. Jack, I still kind of don’t know what to say, and I don’t want to say the wrong thing, and this might not even help or anything, but I love you so much. You’re my best friend, and I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’m sorry that I didn’t realize how bad things were until now, when it was almost kind of too late. I promise that things are going to get better, and I may not be able to help like a professional, but I’ll be with you, supporting you, every step of the way, I promise,” Alex stated, doing his best to maintain his composure for Jack’s sake.

“You’re a really good friend, Alex. Hey, are you okay? I know that this is probably kind of a lot to hear,”

“Um, I’m a bit shaken up, but more than anything, I’m grateful to be sitting here with you, taking the first steps to figuring this out. At the end of the day, I just want you to be safe and happy,”

“Well, I may not be happy yet, but you definitely kept me safe tonight. You saved my life, Alex,” Jack stated, causing a nervous laugh from Alex.

“Nah, I think that’s a little dramatic,”

“Don’t downplay, dude. I seriously would’ve tried something if you hadn’t been here. Maybe I wouldn’t have been successful, but at the very least, you prevented me from doing something stupid that could’ve caused me to get hurt. Thank you for caring so much, it really does mean a lot,” Jack said, a grateful smile starting to form on his face.

“Of course, you’re my best friend. We’re going to go through this together, okay?” Alex assured, hugging Jack closer to him.

Jack shifted some so he could wrap his arms around Alex and finally return the hug. They stayed like this for a bit, everything still felt heavy, but they knew that they didn’t have to bear the weight alone.

A/N: Hi guys! So, I had my last final today (of the semester and undergrad as a whole) this morning, which means I have a lot more time to write now! I do still have a job and everything, but I can spend a lot more time writing now that I won't have assignments until August, when I start my doctoral program! So, I want to start posting more this month, and have a lot of the fics I post be mental health related, like this one, since it is mental health awareness month!! As always, feel free to send in requests (they don't have to be MH related, send in whatever you want to see written!!) I love writing requests for you guys! -Liv

#Alex Gaskarth #Jack Barakat #Rian Dawson #Zack Merrick #ATL #all time low #Jalex

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clarrissanewt · 2 years

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Shipping on Bus?

Pairing: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

Warnings: reader literally falling for peter, fluff, fluff, fluff

Summary: when you literally fell for peter parker, it was time to teach him something- shipping.

Peter wouldn't mind dying in Paris, but dying in a lane of Queens, yes, you would mind very much.

The bus rattled as if to spill his bel sangue without even hurting him and he winced as the bus jostled against some ridge on the road.

1. University

2. Being a friendly neighborhood spidey

3. A bus ride to nowhere

Ah well, just a 'bucket' list about things that were killing him.

Now listen here, half of the words made no sense; like bucket for a list when the list never went to the bucket, cult when you can literally call it something which was actually understandable, and hey, what the hell does this 'y/n' mean??

He'd admit he tried wattpad and gOD SAVE THE NOBLE PETER, BUT WHAT WAS THIS GRAVITY ALL ABOUT?

He read 'y/n' as yes or no for a week before he decided to quit the hyped world of fanfics.

Yes or no (y/n) leaned forward, slowly, watching the freckles of their face, freckles as if a constellation of hazels, shimmering with countenance.

No way in the heaven or hell for spiders, he could continue further.

There was a sharp screech! and the bus came to an abrupt halt, and fuck, he saw with horrified eyes as a girl, as old as him (on the second note, he's not old) tumbled forward, her eyes wide open in horror and if he had been sitting in one of those leather fitted seats and not hanging in these bus money bars, he'd actually want to summon popcorns for the awaiting scene.

Now he wasn't a bel esprit since birth, but as soon as the girl toppled straight into his arms, he didn't have any reign over his tongue and the words naturally fell off his tongue.

"Like you... literally fell for me."

The girl blinked at him in disbelief, and even though she had this abhor expression plastered on her face, she managed to give out a tiny smirk.

"I hope you are single then."

There were low whistles from around, and as a couple (or at least Peter's single ass thought that) strode out of their seats, giving him thumbs up.

"I ship you both!" The lady number one chirped with a toothy grin as she waded out of the bus while the lady number two had an airy expression on her face.

Now why the heck he needed to be shipped? He could go to home himself, thank you very much!

It was only when the bus started its bouncy gait again that he realised he was still staring into void while the girl was still hanging in his grip, her arms crossed and a bored look on her face.

"Oops," Peter said sheepishly, and he might have even dropped her then and there if it wasn't for his spidey senses.

"Seats," you pointed at the two empty seats behind you both, and though the feel of his taut, flexing arms felt like paradise, you decided that perhaps sitting would feel better.

"Yes, seats." You watched Peter Parker, or at least that's what he told his name, bounced his knees with an unspoken clumsiness.

"Any way i can help?" You raised your brows in intrigue.

"Uh well, the thing goes like... ship? Why people would ship me? I can walk on my own to my house!"

You smothered a laugh at his dilemma, patting his vein coursed arms in sympathy.

"Well it's a different ship," you tried, moving your arms viciously in an effort to make him understand. "Shipping is the...uh a desire by followers of a fandom for two or more people, well, either real-life people or fictional characters to be in a romantic and um sexual relationship?"

"Hope you aren't asking," Peter quipped and you flashed your palms in denial. "Like ship?" He pantomimes a ship from a flat palm, a pout on his face as he moved his hand.

You sighed in internal panic. No way he could understand?

"But I think," you looked at him in eagerness as he tapped you knee, "its cute how people try to see love even though it's not, not officially there?"

"So, you ship someone?"

"Ah well, I ship my aunt and uncle- WAIT! Hey, do you mind coming home with me?

You doubled back at the proposal.

"You have some work?" As you opened your mouth, he cut you off again. "Forget your work, just come. I know Aunt May would ship us!"

"Are you asking me out?" You laughed nervously at you bold question.

"Are you saying yes?"

You didn't have anytime to actually say yes before the bus had stopped and Peter took your arm and already rushed to wherever he was planning to.

So much for being shipped on bus.

Join the taglist!

#andrew peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #tasm peter parker x fem!reader #tasm andrew garfield #tasm peter x reader #tasm spiderman #spider man x reader #spiderman x fem!reader #peter parker fluff #tasm!peter x fem!reader #tasm!peter parker fluff

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hotwings0203 · 3 years

Note

fighter kirishima who doesn't like it when other people even stare for one second at his partner, so then he just kills anyone who dares to stand less than 2ft from his darling 😌👍

Tw:noncon implication, implied murder

“Why’re you standing so far away babe?”

You’re not, he’s got his arms wrapped around your waist to the point of crushing your hips.

“‘M not, just couldn’t breathe.”

“Oh good, for a moment there I was worried you were looking at that guy again.

That guy referring to the blond haired weirdo who kept laughing and pointing at the losers of the ring like a maniac.

Right, like you were totally head over heels for the one weirdo in the entire basement.

Except your “boyfriend “ maybe. He could definitely take that title.

Well, maybe not weirdo. Maybe Possessive Controling Freak would be a better name for him, instead of Kirishima.

And just to drive the point home, he soothingly rubs his calloused hand up and down your arm while the next match rages on in front of you both.

It’s not soothing, on the contrary it seems like a threat.

He just amps it up from then on any time he feels like your attention is elsewhere or if he feels like other men are looking at you for a second too long.

First it’s taking on arm and tightly squeezing it. Then, he puts one leg of yours over his thigh much to your embarrassment.

Eventually he just picks you up and plops you on his lap. While he thinks he’s keeping other men at bay with this tactic, it’s doing the complete opposite.

Because these testosterone filled savages are quite enjoying the scene with your limbs being toyed with and thrown over a man like the rest of them, your ragdoll-maneuvered body a promise of something they might be able to one day get a taste of.

The entirety of the fight goes by dreadfully slow because all you can focus on is how long Kiri’s hands dip in and out of the crevice of your legs way too casually. His hands settle comfortably under your shirt and across your boobs, which can be seen by literally everyone when they catch a glimpse of an evident hand on your chest.

He prevents you from squirming too much with his limbs tightening around you and disapproving grunts to your discomfort. So you sit there, stewing with rage and humiliation.

Until a distraction appears.

In the midst of the next match brawling in the ring, a smaller fight breaks out amongst the raging spectators.

It only catches both your attention when the yelling starts getting close to your area and men start throwing fists and yelling until their faces tie beet-red.

Kirishima and you both crane your heads around to see the source of the commotion, but you realize quickly that it’s getting way too intense around you, so much so that men begin lifting chairs and falling over themselves in their own battles.

You try to get up but Kiri’s hands are wrapped so tightly around your midriff that you barely manage to dislodge his arm. He’s distracted and looking around curiously at the dangerous setting and you have to frantically tap his arm to indicate it’s time to go.

But he snaps out of it too late, and a body gets punched your way, his large mass descending on your weaker frame.

You shriek and try to lift your hands up to protect yourself, but it doesn’t work. You’re slammed into and knocked clean off Kirishima’s lap onto the floor laced with blood and bits of torn clothes.

There’s a loud ringing in your ears as you blearily get up and take in your surrounds, which seem to love in slow motion around you. You belatedly think that you must’ve hit your head on the concrete floor when you fell.

Your arms ache as you groan and lift yourself up on shaky elbows, the sounds around you swim in and out of your aching head when suddenly an open hand is thrust in front of your face.

“Are you alright? I’m so sorry!”

Grimacing, you tilt your head up and see the same man who knocked you down. You’re in no condition to refuse help in such a volatile area however, so you gingerly lift your hand and grasp onto his open palm.

You find yourself being pulled up easily and crushed into the man’s body. It’s hard to push back but when you see how many bloody faces and broken limbs windmill around you decide it’s best to keep close to a safe space.

The man gently starts stepping over writhing bodies and lifting you up under your arms to ensure that you don’t trip and fall again while on your way to a clearer area.

You don’t resist, only looking up at him helplessly like a kitten being dragged by its mom from the scruff. His body is warm and toned, yet plush and comfortable to lean against when you need to. Your cranium still pounds, but your head clears a bit when you look into his surprisingly concerned grey eyes.

“You alright? Hit your head a little hard, huh? My bad.”

He sets you on a perch near the office and looks around, deeming it a less loud and crowded area for your health.

He says nothing, but you don’t sense any malice from him. He doesn’t move either though, he just leans an arm on the extension and puts another hand on his hip, scanning the screaming men and casualties as if he were looking out in a snowy field.

He might be protecting you, or looking for a good place to jump in and start swinging himself, you’re not sure.

But you’re grateful for his helpful presence, nonetheless.

And then suddenly your moment of reprieve is dismantled when you hear him frantically calling your name.

You see his head hair sticking up, spiky as ever while the top of his head bobs left and right, in circles and backwards as he tries finding you.

Your head starts to hurt again.

“Y/N! Where the hell are you?”

Eventually and unfortunately he sees your figure above the fray, and he swears you look like an angel-siting above this rifraff, your body perfectly intact unlike the rest of these thugs, your expression dazed and vulnerable like it did when you were choking on his co-

He sees the man next to you, and his vision shatters like glass when he takes in the proximity of him next to you.

Kirishima sees red.

“Hey, there you are cutie! I got scared I lost you for a sec’ there. Thanks for looking out for her man,” he smiles and shakes his hand with the steel-haired guy, crushing his grip a little too hard to be deemed grateful.

“No problem. The name’s Tetsutetsu. ‘Think I’ve seen you around here, you fight pretty good not gonna lie! When’s it gonna be my turn to match that strength in the rink?” He smiles deviously and knocks shoulders with you in jest.

While you smile uncomfortably and rub your now-bruising shoulder, Kirishima’s eye twitches at the contact and his smile starts straining as well.

But this is too easy to give up.

“Hey, that’s actually a really good idea. Why don’t we have our own little practice match after the shit here clears up?” He nods around to the ongoing pandemonium.

You look at him stricken, unsure of what he’s playing at. You’re not stupid, you can tell by his off body language that he’s not at rest or relaxed at all by this conversation.

The expression he’s making, while it might fool the himbo next to you, is extremely reminiscent of the faces he pulls when he chides gently in your ear to stop moving so fucking far away from him and soothes a hand over your head.

“Sounds good, and don’t worry, I’ll take it easy on you.” The other man laughs heartily and kicks away a stray rolling body.

Kirishima merely grins gently. “For your sake, is give it my best.”

*************

He’s strapped you to the bed-check.

You’ve been spanked black and blue-check.

A lecture has been given to your sobbing body-check.

Ointment has been slathered on the bruises-double check.

And he’s out the door at exactly 9pm, jogging his way to the bar and down the steps to the basement as a light warm up. He considers calling an ambulance before-hand, but that would mean he’d give enough mercy to leave Tetsutetsu intact…and alive.

When he bounds down the rickety steps he finds that Tetsu is already there and lightly boxing a body bag that the newbies use for practice.

He has to hold back his snort and paint his usual cheery face on, but something tells him even the dim yellow light in this room would still show the dark emotion swirling in his ruby eyes.

“What’s up bro, you made it?”

“No, I’m still at home.”

Tetsutetsu laughs heartily and doesn’t catch onto the cold bite Kirishima’s words hold.

“You’re funny. ‘Wanna warm up-“

“-Nah, actually, ‘think I’m good. Let’s just get started, I’ve been waiting for this.”

“You got it boss.”

And without further ado they both shrug off their shirts in the hot basement and ready their fists in a protective stance, circling each other.

“Y’know, when I saw you next to my girl I fantasized about caving your face in,” a punch is thrown suddenly and Tetsu is thrown off guard by the surprising agility of the bully opponent and his words.

He practically eats the hit square in the nose, his head snapping back and immediately pouring blood from his nostrils.

He coughs and staggers before realigning himself the opposite end of the fighting circle. “Wha-? Why?” The victim sounds congested from the leaking blood but his focus is only on Kirishima’s change in expression.

“Yeah, and then I saw you knock shoulders with her too…maybe I’ll cut yours off and sell ‘em for a couple hundred, whaddaya think bro?”

This time when Kirishima aims for his face again he’s ready, and he quickly dodges and strikes his face fist out.

But what he doesn’t expect is the redhead to actually catch the fist in his own larger hand and hold it in midair. He also doesn’t react in time to pull his hand out and move back when Kiri’s other fist swings low and punches so hard into his stomach that he falls to the ground, hand still captivated by Kirishima’s.

He’s never seen a man with that kinda of face on while fighting. His eyes are narrowed and dark, his mouth is set in a thin like and his whole body is taut, as if holding back his own strength.

For the first time since he’s ever been in the basement, Tetsutetsu doesn’t to fight anymore.

“Look Kirishima,” he hacks and looks wildly at him. “I don’t know if you’re upset at me for something but you gotta chill out. You can’t catch my hands like that, that’s not how you’re supposed to fight-“

“You still think I give a shit how we’re supposed to fight? No ones gonna care about strategy or sportsmanship when you’re dead, Tetsutetsu.”

His last scream is so loud and so shrill that Kirishima thinks it’s a shame it wasn’t witnessed in a real match by paying spectators.

#bully kirishima #yandere kirishima x reader #yandere kirishima #tw: implied noncon #tw: implied death #yandere mha #bnha #mha #yandere bnha #kirishima #mha kirishima #bnha kirishima

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myhockeyworld87 · 3 years

Text

Under My Skin - Matthew Tkachuk

Word Count: 3,644

POV: Reader

Warnings: Language, Smut, NSFW

Summary: Matthew can be a pest but what happens when your ex, Auston Matthews get under his skin.

Notes: So I’m having a sad bitch moment and thought, why not post this. I finally broke down and wrote for this boy. Who knows if it’ll happen again...haha! At any rate hope you guys enjoy. Happy Reading!

Matthew first met you over a year ago when you’d moved to Calgary for work. You had just finished your degree and a job opportunity had landed you in the same city where he was playing. You’d been out at the bar with some co-workers and had caught his eye immediately. You were everything that Matthew was looking for in a woman, smart, funny, incredibly gorgeous, with a charm that seemed to draw everyone around you in. You were like a magnet and Matthew couldn’t resist your pull.

That first night he’d barely been able to talk to you. You’d been besotted with people left and right, and it seemed as though every time Matthew worked up the courage to speak with you, you would get pulled away. Matthew finally ran into you on the way to the restroom. Like, literally ran into you. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Matthew apologized steadying you with a hand on your waist. His hand lingered a little longer than necessary but you weren’t complaining.

“It’s ok I wasn’t paying attention.” You held up your phone in defense. You’d been so distracted by a text, that you really weren’t watching where you were going. “Did you ever have someone text you that you hoped you’d never hear from again?”

It was an interesting introduction to a conversation but then Matthew would take any opportunity he could get to speak to you. “Actually, yes.”

“It’s so annoying, right?”

“Well, there is a way to solve that problem.”

Your eyes held his with rapt attention, and Matthew could tell you were clinging to his every word. It was then that it struck him that he never wanted that look to fade from your face. “How?”

“Come have a drink with me and forgot about whoever it is on that phone.” You smiled. It was a bright, brilliant thing of beauty that Matthew swore could light up the night sky on its darkest days. He was sold right then and there, and with just that simple gesture you had no idea that you’d swooped in and stolen his heart that night.

You forgot about that text message fairly quickly and just settled into an easy conversation with Matthew. The night flew by and before you knew it, your co-workers were calling it a night and you were all heading home. Matthew asked for your number which you gave in hopes that he would call you soon. Little did you know that after you left, Matthew debated with himself on how long to wait to text you. Every unsaid rule in the code of dating said to wait for at least forty-eight to seventy-two hours before making a move, but Matthew was never one to follow convention. As he lay in bed, he decided to send you a quick message.

Had a great time tonight.

It was short and to the point, and Matthew figured if you answered then he would ask you out again. Unfortunately, for Matthew, he wasn’t the only one texting you as you crawled into bed after taking off all your makeup. You were just getting ready to reply to Matthew when another text came in. It was the fourth of the night from the same person that had messaged you before, Auston Matthews.

You hadn’t spoken to him in months, back when you were in Toronto, and you didn’t plan on speaking to him now, though he seemed to be trying his hardest to get your attention, just as he had been for the last couple of months. Your relationship with Auston had been nothing short of toxic. Oh sure, at first it was all hearts and roses in the beginning. Auston swept you off your feet with that charming smile of his, but then you were young and the flashy NHLer said all the right things, at first.

You weren’t normally one to tumble into bed right after the first date, though that’s what happened with Auston. He made it seem like you were the only one, but after dating him for only four months you’d found out that wasn’t true. Oh, he tried to brush it off, make it seem like he wasn’t cheating. That the panties you’d found lying tucked between the nightstand and the bed were some old fling and not some random hookup he’d brought home. You wanted to believe him and so you let your heart overpower your head and stayed with him until you’d literally walked in on him in bed with another woman. There was no talking his way out of that one.

It was an easy decision to break things off with him, though he kept trying to win you back. You were good for his image and he thought that he could keep you happy while he had some fun on the side. The only thing was you didn’t want him back, even though his friends tried to helped his cause. That’s when you decided to take the job in Calgary. It was an easy decision six months ago. Which is part of the reason it surprised you when he texted tonight. He was in Calgary for a game and wanted to talk. You’d honestly were debating seeing him when you’d run into Matthew.

Matthew, you sighed. His curly hair and shaved sides gave off this bad boy vibe, but as you sat there and talked to him, you’d realized he had to be one of the sweetest men out there. You hadn’t realized at first who he actually was. Auston had turned you off to the NHL scene altogether, so you no longer paid attention to the games, even if hockey was Canada’s major sport. Honestly, you wish you didn’t know he was in the NHL. It was part of the reason you were debating about answering him. Maybe you would just sleep on it and decide in the morning.

Meanwhile, Matthew was having a mild panic attack. He told himself that maybe you lived close to the bar and had already fallen asleep before you got his text, or that you’d turned off your phone the minute you got home. He constantly kept checking his, looking for those three little dots letting him know that you were sending something back. It was torturous.

You laid there all of twenty minutes before you decided that you couldn’t resist the curly-haired man that had captured your attention tonight. Grabbing your phone, you shot off a quick, I did too. You typed and erased it three times, wondering if you should add more before finally pressing the send button. There it was done, if he said something back, you’d go from there. Fifteen seconds later, you knew you were in trouble.

Maybe we could do it again sometime?

Matthew was sweating as he hit send. He’d never been this nervous before about a woman. They either liked him or didn’t, but you, you were different. He knew that from the moment he saw you. It was even more prevalent now after he’d spent most of the night with you.

I’d like that.

Was your simple reply back. One that had Matthew ready to jump up and out of bed with excitement. And so the texting went on for the next ten minutes until he finally ended up calling you. The two of you talked for over an hour, almost as if you’d known each other all your lives, and you completely forgot about the texts from Auston.

Matthew took you out three days later to an exclusive restaurant in the city. This time you told yourself you’d not make the same mistake you’d made with Auston. So, when the night drew to a close, Matthew drove you to your apartment then very properly walked you to the door and only kissed you on the cheek. It wasn’t what you expected. You’d thought he’d go for more, but Matthew wanted to do things right. He knew you were special and he wasn’t going to mess things up by sleeping with you on night one. He was in this for the long run.

That was over a year ago. Sure, it had been difficult at first to give him your complete trust, but Matthew had earned it and over time you knew that although he may be a pest on the ice, he was anything but that in your personal life. Now the two of you shared a home and were on your way to making a life together.

You’d kept your relationship on the down-low, staying off of all forms of social media to keep the wolves at bay. Which meant that no one, including Auston, knew that you and Matthew were dating. That was until he and everyone else saw you in the background of Taryn’s video for Brady’s twenty-first birthday. The picture highlighted Brady but behind him, there was Matthew nibbling on your neck and ear. Fans picked up on it right away, wondering who you were and Matthew decided he was tired of hiding the two of you. A week later he was posting a picture of the two of you holding hands on your way back to Calgary.

That was dozens of posts and months ago. Your life with Matthew was nothing short of amazing, until the Flames played the Leafs. Matthew was in Toronto while you stayed back in Calgary for work. It was an early game and you joined the other wives and significant others in a small little watch party. Drinks were flowing freely, so you really didn’t catch the exchange between Matthew and Auston in warmups.

Matthew was minding his own business as he stretched near the centerline. That’s when Auston started with the little jabs. “Nice little piece of ass you picked up Tkachuk.” Matthew was used to guys talking shit about all kinds of things on the ice, though normally it was about him being a dirty player or how Brady was the better Tkachuk on the ice; all that shit he could handle. He wasn’t used to someone taking stabs at you.

“Shut the fuck up Matthews,” he replied then skated away. If Auston was looking for a fight, he’d get one if he kept up this banter, but not until the game started.

It wasn’t until the end of the first that Auston got a chance to chirp Matthew again. “Tell me, Tkachuk, does (Y/N) still make the same pretty moans…”

“Finish that and you’ll regret it,” Matthew told him. It was the only warning Matthew was going to give. Of course, Matthew knew that you’d dated someone in the hockey world and that he’d been a verifiable asshole. He’d never pressed the issue too much as he was trying to turn that stigma about hockey players around. He never liked Auston, he was always cordial to him in non-ice settings but now that he knew he was the cheating bastard who basically used you; he liked him less.

Play resumed before anything else could happen and Matthew was sure to get in a few good checks in before heading back for the first intermission. When he was back on the ice for the second Auston picked up right where they had left off. “So, you like my sloppy seconds, Tkachuk?” Matthew saw red at the insult, and before he knew what he was doing he dropped his gloves and hit Auston. Inwardly, you cringed at the fight, not wanting to let on to the other girls that you had an idea what the exchange was about. Auston went down easy, with Matthew barely touching him, and so off the penalty box he went, while the Leafs went on the power play. You could see him just sitting there stewing, though you weren’t sure if he was mad at himself for letting Auston get to him or mad at you.

The game ended up tied in the third, and little did you know that Auston took the opportunity to get a few more digs into Matthew. “Does she get as wet for as she did for me, or do you have to work for it?” Johnny had to hold him back from leveling him after that, but Auston didn’t let up. “She was such a fucking slut for me in bed. You know I fucked every hole…” That’s all he got out before going down hard as Matthew planted a right hook to his jaw. But Matthew wasn’t done and went after Auston as he lay on the ice. Matthew was ejected from the game and the Leafs scored on the power play.

There was no interview after the game with Matthew, so you had no idea what he was feeling or how pissed he was. As soon as you got home, you tried to call him but it went straight to voicemail. You tried to tell yourself it didn’t mean anything that maybe he never turned his phone back on after the game or maybe they were already on the flight back to Calgary, as the team played at home the following day, but you just weren’t sure. So, you laid in the king-size bed you shared with Matthew, wrapped up in your favorite old t-shirt of his, simply staring up at the ceiling.

At some point, you must have fallen asleep, for you didn’t hear the door open or Matthew dropping his bag like you usually did. It wasn’t until he crept into bed that you finally knew he was home. He was laying on his back, hands behind his head when you finally rolled over letting him know you were awake. You’d thought about what to say to him before falling asleep but waited for him to say something to you. When he didn’t you simply whispered, “If you want me to go I will.”

“Go?” Matthew questioned now rolling on to his side so he could see you. “Why would I want you to leave?”

“I never wanted to be a problem for you, Matthew, especially not with other players.” It was part of the reason you’d never told him that you’d dated Auston, though you should’ve known that Auston couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

You went to say more, but Matthew stopped you. “You’re not the problem (Y/N). You could never be one.” His fingers ran up and down your arms lightly, just caressing your skin. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.” His lips found yours then, and you melted into the feel of him, savoring how his body started to relax against you.

“Auston’s an asshole.” Matthew finally said, when the two of you broke apart.

“Do I even want to know what he said?”

“Just shit to get me riled up, and it worked.” Your one hand went to the back of his neck, massaging the knotted muscles there. “I’m not stupid. I realize what probably happened between the two of you. I just don’t like hearing it.”

“We both have pasts, Matthew. We can’t change that, but you’re my future.”

He gave you a real quick peck to your lips. “And you’re mine. At least I don’t have to deal with him for a couple weeks.”

You pushed him onto his back before straddling his hips. “Don’t let him get under your skin, babe. When he starts to say something…” you looked him right in the eyes. “And you know he will. Just remind him how you’re the only one I want with me.” You flexed your hips before running your hands up his bare chest. “And in me.” Matthew’s hands went to your waist, where he played with the band of lace on your panties. “You’re more to me than he’ll ever be. Both here,” you taped your heart and then his. “And here.” Lifting your hips, you took your hand and cupped the length of him. His cock instantly hardened under your touch.

Your words spurred Matthew into action, for the next thing you knew he was ripping your panties, before shimming out of his boxers. His fingers went to your folds, where he found you ready for him. “Fuck you’re so wet.”

“Only for you Matthew. Only for you.” It was extra reassurance that you knew Matthew needed and tonight you’d give him as many as he needed. He guided your hips down onto his cock and you sighed out with pleasure as he filled you like no one else ever had.

As you grabbed the hem of your t-shirt Matthew whispered harshly, “Leave it on.” It was one of his Flames shirts; one that had both his name and number on the back. Leaning down you kissed him long and hard, before starting to ride him. It was slow at first, a pace meant to build you both up but not push you over the edge. His hands were everywhere, under your shirt caressing your breasts, wandering down your back to cup your ass, and moving up and down your thighs to quicken your speed.

Finally, he couldn’t take it any longer and he flipped your bodies so that he loomed over top of you. His thrusts were deep and hard, almost punishing if your body hadn’t wanted him so bad. “You belong to me.” He said as he flexed into you, pushing you up against the headboard.

“Yes, baby. Only you.”

“Who?” He asked again and you realized that he was not in the mood to hear any pet names.

“You, Matthew, you,” you answered knowing that he owned you both body and soul, just as you owned him.

“That’s right, baby.” Matthew's thrusts were deep and sure, as he knew what would bring you pleasure, and with a few more flexes of his hips, he sent you spiraling out of control, screaming his name.

“MMMAAATTTTTTTTTTHHHHEEEEEWWW.”

That was all he needed to catch his high and follow you down, your name on his lips. He rolled onto his side taking you with him; your breaths mingling together as you both calmed. Your nails skimmed down his spine aimless, something you tended to do after sex. Matthew always said he loved the continued intimacy it brought, and tonight it felt like you both needed that. His lips found yours, the kiss loving and tender. “I love you, (Y/N),” Matthew whispered while brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “And I promise, I won’t let Auston get to me next time.”

“Good, because you’re the only man I love Matthew, and the team doesn’t need you getting ejected from games because of me.”

“It won’t happen again.” You truly hoped that it wouldn’t but with Matthew’s temper you never knew.

It was a little over two weeks later that the Flames were taking on the Leafs, this time at the Saddledome, where you were in attendance. Admittedly, you were a bit nervous on the inside as to what would happen between the love of your life and the once lowlife that you'd briefly called boyfriend. You tried to shake off your nerves with idle chatter with some of the girls, but your eyes always seemed to drift back to where Matthew and Auston were on the ice.

Matthew for his part stayed away from center ice for warmups, just like he told you he would. It wasn’t until the second period after a blown whistle that Auston finally decided to poke at him. “How’s that girlfriend Tkachuk? You know if I told her I wanted her back she’d leave you in a second.”

“I doubt that Matthews. She told me you couldn't satisfy her in the bedroom. Something about cumming too soon.” Anger started to radiate across Auston’s face. “You should see a doctor about that.” Matthew skated away, completely ignoring anything Auston would be able to say back.

The game was tied late in the third once again when Auston tried to rile Matthew up again. Considering he had two assists you understood why they wanted your boyfriend out of the game. “It wasn’t me who had the problem Tkachuk, (Y/N)’s pussy was wider than the Grand Canyon.”

“Hmm,” Matthew taunted back. “Must be your small pencil dick, because she’s so tight it’s like a vice-grip around me.” Auston took offense and cross-checked Matthew into the boards right as the play began, earning him two minutes in the penalty box. Matthew laughed at him as the ref took him over. Auston wasn’t there for long, as Matthew scored the game-winning goal forty-some seconds into the penalty. You jumped up out of your seat with the rest of the girls cheering and screaming.

Even though they pulled the goalie, the Leafs couldn’t seem to find the back of the net before the buzzer sounded ending the game. You made your way down to wait outside the tunnel with the rest of the significant others. Most everyone was gone before Matthew finally came out, scooping you up in his arms. “Did you see that baby?”

“I saw Matty,” you told him, kissing him on the lips. “That goal was impressive.”

He finally set you back down on your feet. “No babe, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t let him get to me.”

“Yeah, I saw that too. I’m so proud of you.”

“Well, he can’t get under my skin about you, when I get to be all over yours.” His hands slid under your sweater and inside your jeans to cup your ass. “Speaking of your skin…let’s go home so I can get you out of all these clothes and see you.”

You kissed him, long and languidly, before pulling back. “I like that idea. I like it a lot.” The two of you left the arena hands interlaced just as your bodies would be as soon as you got home.

#Matthew Tkachuk #Matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk imagines #matthew tkachuk smut #matthew tkachuk fanfic #nhl smut #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey smut #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fanfic #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Losing You Twice / 1: If I Hated You

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day weekend, and it turns out Y/N isn’t the only one struggling with the breakup. Category: Smut (18+), Angst Content Warnings: Language, drinking/getting drunk, penetrative/unprotected sex (If I missed anything, please let me know!) Word Count: 5,538

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

“My bedtime is the darkest, that’s when I’m brokenhearted. The nighttime is the hardest. It’d be easy, if I hated you.” —FLETCHER, If I Hated You

FEBRUARY 13th

It was Valentine's Day weekend, which sucked this time around. Every year for the past three years Y/N looked forward to Valentine's Day, but that was when she actually had someone to spend it with.

Well, someone she actually cared about, anyway... Whether or not Spencer actually knew it, she did really care about him. She was just stupid and didn't say it when he needed to hear it the most.

And now Valentine's Day was on Saturday and Y/N was still without him. Not alone, but still without the man who'd spent the significant holiday with her for the past three years. Memories of their dates and 'afterparties' flooded through her mind as she got ready for work like a montage, a cheesy love-song playlist she'd found on Spotify acting as the soundtrack.

Eventually she sighed and turned it off, opting for something more loud and obnoxious, and therefore not tainted by Spencer's memory. She applied what was left of her makeup and added a pair of earrings before turning the music off altogether and shoving her phone in her bag alongside her keys and other necessities.

Even though she wasn't emotionally prepared for all the cheesy Valentine's things she'd see and hear and experience throughout the weekend, it was still kind of nice to see that things in the bank never changed during the holidays— Everything in her life was so severely different at the moment, that if Marjorie had somehow decided to throw out all her elaborate decorations for each holiday, no matter how small, Y/N would have thought the world was truly ending.

Speaking of, she was met with Marjorie's brighter-than-the-sun smile almost immediately once she set her things in the breakroom.

"How's my little macaron this morning?" she chirped, Y/N chuckling slightly at the nickname— She brought macarons from the bakery down the street on her first birthday she spent at the bank, and ever since then, the older woman had adorned her with the namesake.

"She's alright, Marj... Better now that she's seen you..."

"That boy still on your mind, hon?"

Obviously Marjorie's intentions were good, but Y/N couldn't stand to think about the situation at all, least of all at work... So, setting her jacket on the rack, turned away so that her coworker wouldn't see the visible discomfort on her face, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and cleared her throat. "So, what are your plans with Geno tomorrow night? Anything special?"

There was a brief pause before Marjorie cleared her throat as well. "Nothing short of our usual dinner plans, my dear. He's been so caught up with work at the Mill lately, I think we're just going to spend the night relaxing."

"Hm," Y/N said shortly, finally turning around and giving her the best smile she could. "Maybe I should take a page from your book and stay in..."

"You weren't going to?"

"No... Britt's been nagging me about getting out there so we're going out tomorrow night. We both haven't been single in a long time, so... Should be fun."

Marjorie didn't look convinced. Either way, she nodded with a smile and walked over to Y/N with something glittery and bright red in her hand— A cheap beaded necklace to clip her nametag onto. She draped it over Y/N's neck and patted her shoulders. "Well, I want you to have fun. And remember that you still have to come to work on Monday. Whatever shenanigans you get into should be reserved for Saturday night only so you can rest properly on Sunday, got it?"

Y/N laughed, thankful for the playful tone in Marjorie's voice. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Oh, I joke, I joke," the older woman said with a bright laugh, turning to walk out of the break room. "A little..."

The smile on Y/N's face only really lasted until after Marjorie was out of sight, then she went into her bag and clipped her nametag onto the red beaded necklace with a sigh.

Was she excited to have a good night out with Britt? Of course. Hell, had it been literally any other day of the year, she would have been practically bouncing off the walls with excitement at the idea of going out to a bar, letting men hit on her until she finally let one of them take her back to his place for the night.

But it just felt like it was too soon.

Either way, she was glad that she'd get to see Britt again, after she'd been on vacation for Christmas and New Year's to see her family and only got back a few weeks ago. She'd seen her on Facetime of course, and they met up once for coffee right after Britt got back from her trip, but a well-needed night out and quality time getting ready together was something that had been missing from their friendship for almost a year.

Y/N knew Britt would most likely spend her time trying to hook them up with end-of-the-night dates, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad...

Even still, sleeping alone the night before was probably one of the worst spells of loneliness she'd ever had. It was normal to be sad spending the first Valentine's Day in years away from a significant other, but knowing how things ended between them—bitter and stained with words left unsaid—this time was just... cold.

And that was putting it lightly.

Y/N laid in bed that night, her eyes wide open and staring at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars that adorned the ceiling. They used to give her comfort, but now they just reminded her of all the nights she'd spend with Spencer, listening to him tell stories about the constellations. They were some of the most peaceful memories she had.

And now those, too—those stars that had grounded her pretty much all her life and reminded her of the better days—were tainted by her inability to properly communicate.

She almost thought about taking them down.

But if she was really going to get over him this time, for good, then she'd have to learn to make new memories with the stars. Even if it was painful. Even if replacing those memories and writing new ones over them absolutely tore her soul to pieces.

And, as if that pain wasn't enough, that night Y/N dreamt of him, making love to her amongst the stars in every galaxy, only to wake up the next morning cold and alone.

FEBRUARY 14th

She promptly decided that she hated his guts.

It was Valentine's Day, Y/N was respectfully buzzed, and courtesy of two beers and four shots of tequila, she'd just deleted Spencer's number from her phone.

"I'm done," she said, waving a hand at Britt and shoving her phone in her purse. "He doesn't deserve my wallowing."

"Yeah!"

Britt was significantly the more drunk of the two, resulting in a fit of giggles after gaining some stares from the people around them at her sudden outburst.

Y/N smiled, finishing off another shot and shaking her head. "We need more!"

"More shots!" Britt hurried off to grab them, leaving her friend behind with a half-drunken smile that also only felt half-genuine.

Sure, she decided she hated Spencer's guts, but her heart didn't exactly agree well with that sentiment. Even after deleting his number from her phone, after downing all that alcohol, her heart still ached.

Y/N knew deep down that getting over him was going to take some time. A lot of time... But maybe one night of distraction would help.

So the shots kept coming, and by the end of the night, Y/N was just about at her limit.

Which was near black-out drunk. And when you're that drunk you tend to make decisions you wouldn't soberly condone.

Britt got into a cab, and she begged Y/N to come with her, but she assured her friend that she had someone to come pick her up. Eventually the cab driver got tired of their inability to decide, and when Y/N told him to go, he did, leaving her alone on the side of the street at 1am.

Unfortunately, it was incredibly cold, and she didn't really have anyone to come pick her up. And that's where the bad decisions started.

Y/N pulled her phone out, a long sigh escaping her as she dialed the number by heart.

Would he even pick up? He hadn't answered any of her calls or texts before, so why would it have been any different now? Not to mention it was Valentine's Day Weekend. With her luck, he was probably in bed with someone else. Someone who wasn't her. As she listened to the dial tone repeating in her ear, images of him wrapped up with somebody else—sleeping in the bed she'd slept in many times before—clouded her drunken brain and made her more angry than anything.

Her gut twisted, and she almost hung up.

But then the low buzz of the dial tone abruptly stopped and in its place came his voice.

"Y/N?"

Her name on his lips, even through the phone, was grounding, the anger in her system melting away and revealing a coat of drunken relief.

"Spencer! You answered!"

"Yeah... Are you— Is everything okay?"

"Pff, yeah, 'm-fine. Just really fucking cold."

"You're not outside, are you?"

"Duh, I'm outside... I wouldn't be cold in-side... Besides, I didn't call t'alk bout the weather, I need you t'come pick me up."

There was a brief pause, and for a moment Y/N didn't think he was going to say anything she wanted to hear. She swayed on the sidewalk, shivering and praying that he would throw her a bone, even if she'd regret it all in the morning.

"Where are you?" he said finally, and despite herself, she smiled.

FEBRUARY 15th

Spencer couldn't believe he was picking her up at near two in the morning.

Honestly, he'd initially thought about ignoring her call again, but remembering the day it was and taking note of the time, he figured she was most likely in some type of inebriated trouble.

His instincts were right, of course, but he wished that he could have been wrong. He wished she'd only been calling to drunkenly ramble on about how she missed him or maybe how he was stupid and she never wanted to see his face ever again, because that was normal. At least then he could have hung up after she was done and never thought about it again— it was a normal step in any relationship that helped move things along. They could have gotten on with their lives and it would have all been over.

But of course it was never that simple.

Y/N was never that simple.

He pictured her on the street near some bar, alone and cold and drunk, and of course he would have been the only one she could call to rescue her. After all, he'd been pretty much the only thing she'd ever known to make her feel safe.

Still, he wished he was capable of only giving her a ride home and then leaving.

But again, it was never that simple.

It was easy getting her into the car— that wasn't what he was worried about. Rather, it was the fated moment where she'd ask him to stay after he finally got her tucked safely into bed that worried him. Because it was bad enough that it was Y/N... It was her in all her alluring glory, and he'd never been able to deny her anything no matter how badly he tried or wanted to.

Now add on the fact that she was drunk, and most likely sad on their first Valentine's Day apart, and it was a recipe for disaster.

Even if she'd broken his heart, Spencer still cared about her.

Which is why he inevitably agreed to stay, at least until she fell asleep.

He knew her well enough to know all the ways she'd try to get him under the covers with her, so it was a familiar amusement that settled in his being when he was finally able to get on top of the covers with her underneath. But as he entertained her silly little questions with the right answers until she fell asleep, Spencer noticed something else accompanying that amusement.

Guilt.

And then anger for feeling guilty about her sadness— sadness that could have been avoided had she just gotten over whatever was holding her back and either returned his "I love you" or told him she wasn't feeling the same way just yet.

All she had to do was talk.

He had a right to feel upset about Y/N holding back when he'd been nothing but patient, spending almost every year of their relationship trying to make her see that she had nothing to be afraid of. He'd given her every chance to talk about what she was feeling, whether it was happy or not, and every time she pushed it all away in favor of sex.

That wasn't what he wanted in a relationship, so he ended it. And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.

So why was he feeling so fucking guilty?

He blamed his good nature and innate need to please people, to make them feel good and happy. But he also blamed Y/N and her adorable drunken sleeping face.

He watched as she slept, willing himself not to forget the way she hurt him. She'd completely stolen his heart and shattered it at the same time, and if he was being honest, she still held some of the pieces. But he couldn't get them back, not if he didn't want to risk shattering her own heart in the process.

It felt like they were tied together by some strong, invisible force that wouldn't break unless both of them broke right along with it.

So... maybe he could afford to leave those pieces of his heart with her. He'd have to if they were going to get out of this alive. Not unscathed, sure, but alive nonetheless.

Once he was sure she was deep in sleep, Spencer quietly and carefully got off the bed and navigated through her apartment, getting her a glass of water and leaving it on the table next to her bed. And because he couldn't help it, he cleaned up some of the clothes that were scattered around her floor, depositing them into the hamper and straightening out a few more things that were out of place.

He looked over at her sleeping figure one more time, sighed, and then left, keeping her bedroom door open just a crack.

***

Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer.

Despite his better judgement, he'd plopped himself down on her couch after making sure she was sound asleep, hoping to catch his breath and sort through what he was feeling before he got behind the wheel. But of course, it was 2am and he was exhausted, and he couldn't stop himself from closing his eyes and drifting off.

And now he was sitting up, looking around the apartment through the lens of morning.

Though the curtains were sheer, they didn't provide much light, but enough of it showed him just how familiar the space was. Y/N hadn't moved anything around. The same art was on the same walls, the potted ivy plant on her mantle sat un-watered and withering, and every book and record and DVD on her shelves was in the exact same spot as they'd all been the last time he was there in December.

Meanwhile, after the breakup he'd re-arranged everything. He was so sure that they were through for good this time around that he wanted a clean slate. Not that he wanted to rid himself of her memory completely, but if he was going to move on from the hold she'd had on him, he had to do something...

And yet, he ended up at her apartment the morning after Valentine's Day all the same.

He heard the shower running faintly a couple rooms away. You didn't have to pass the couch to get there, so maybe she hadn't seen him sleeping and he could get away cleanly.

Spencer scrambled off the couch, thankful that he hadn't removed his jacket or his shoes and that he could just sprint towards the door without having to find any of his belongings.

But as luck would have it, the second he took a step, the shower turned off. He had to get out of there quickly, but if he did then she'd definitely know he'd stayed overnight. But if he went quietly, he wouldn't have enough time before she caught him.

Maybe I could hide...

He shook the thought with a roll of his eyes, settling on the clearest course of action, which was to make as quick of a getaway as he could. He'd try to be quiet as well, though the creaky door was going to be nearly impossible to get through without a sound.

His hand was on the doorknob when he heard her voice.

"You didn't think you could spend the night and then leave without saying goodbye, did 'ja?"

The pure amusement in her tone made his stomach churn, and it wasn't unpleasant in the slightest.

Spencer turned and smiled softly, avoiding looking at her completely. "Sorry. Didn't want to bother you."

"You're never a bother."

That sentiment held less amusement and more sincerity, which was what guided his eyes to meet the woman who said the words.

His stomach twisted again when he saw her, exactly like he knew she'd be— wrapped in nothing but a thin towel with near-dripping hair cascading down her back. Her legs were bare and exposed, the towel not only thin but short, which meant that her chest was also practically spilling out of it. Despite the obvious and inevitable hungover look in her eye, there was also a good splash of that mischief that'd always been there— the kind that spelled out trouble.

He needed to get out of there.

"Well, um... I'm glad I got you home safe," he said, clearing his throat. "I should... I should go."

"You sure you don't wanna stay for breakfast?"

Spencer could have sworn she was teasing him, dangling her body in front of him like a meal they both knew he wouldn't be able to resist. But then she added, "I've got everything I need for your favorite omelet," and he exhaled with a small smile, exhausted with his own mind for convincing him that she was out to pull him back in.

Still, he declined. "No, I... I shouldn't. But, uh, thank you..."

"You sure?"

This time when he looked up at her, she was closer. She was gently striding forward to meet him, and he half thought about backing up towards the door until he realized he was already there.

"I—I'm sure. Really."

"But you drove around all night just to take me home when I was drunk, the least I can do is feed you..."

"Eh, it's alright. It's... Nothing I haven't done before."

She stopped then, her eyes briefly dropping to the floor. It was like her whole demeanor changed—just for a second—from the prowess she'd always been, to what seemed to be a woman filled with sadness and regret. It didn't last long though, just enough for Spencer to notice it before she looked back up at him with that wicked gleam in her eye and a remark right at the tip of her tongue.

"Still. I feel bad, making you do all that for me... Especially now."

He wasn't sure what to make of this... It seemed like she was sincere, but she was also alluring, calling to him like a siren leading him to his ultimate demise. And while he'd come to know that as merely a part of her nature, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that she was doing it on purpose.

She was in a skimpy towel, after all, and she definitely knew how to use that to her advantage.

It didn't help that he didn't have the courage to leave. Everything inside of him right then longed to drop that towel and indulge himself once more. Putting aside all the heartache and the differences they shared, all he felt in that moment was the need to touch her— to get lost in her and never be found again.

She was his fatal flaw, and it was painfully obvious.

Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer...

He was over to her in just three strides, throwing off his jacket and tossing it aside before cradling her face with his hands and bringing their lips together for the first time since Christmas Eve.

The small whine in her throat signaled that she hadn't expected it, but welcomed it all the same. The moment she lifted her arms to wrap around his neck, the towel fell to the floor, and there was no going back.

"What about breakfast?" Y/N breathed out once they pulled away for air.

Spencer contemplated, studying her face, seeing the way her eyes sparkled, and decided on the two words that sealed his fate.

"Screw breakfast."

Their lips were melded together almost as soon as the words left his mouth. And it wasn't long before every other part of their bodies were melded together as well.

Y/N helped him take the rest of his clothes off as they danced around the entryway and the living room. Everything was open, no walls separating the living room from the kitchen, so to compensate for the lack of breakfast they'd be eating, they migrated to the kitchen counter once Spencer had off everything but his boxers.

He trapped her against the cool marble of the countertop, her back hitting it solid and sending a shiver up her spine. Meanwhile his hands roamed her body, unsure of where to be other than on her at all times, whether it be her waist, her stomach, her arms, her breasts, or her ass. He wanted to feel all of her, and quite frankly she wanted the same.

She even told him so, in her own way, by bringing one of her legs up and wrapping it around his waist, pulling him closer to her as she wove her fingers through his hair and tasted his tongue with her own.

The action elicited a groan from his mouth, low and desperate. Spencer settled his hands on her waist and gripped it tight, silently telling her what to do.

So she jumped up and he helped guide her swiftly onto the counter. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist again, and he found himself grinding into her hips, urgent to feel every part of her. And thankfully she was feeling rather desperate herself, because she rolled her hips up into him in return, breaking their mouths apart just briefly to speak.

"Fuck me..."

There was so much he wanted to say to her in that moment— how badly he was feeling about keeping her entertained while he was slowly deteriorating inside from her emotional detachment and rejection, how much she frustrated him, and more prominently, how she was so goddamn impatient and that he was getting there...

But all that he could manage was a broken, desperate whisper of her name.

It was all he'd ever known.

All that frustration... All that anger, heartache, passion, and time apart combined beautifully into those few syllables that made up her name and tore him apart from the inside out.

And his hands were just as destructive.

Spencer deftly dropped his boxers to the ground and pushed forward, almost losing all sense of self the moment the head of his dick finally made contact with her cunt. He made his way inside of her and then used both of his hands to grip her waist and bring her closer, their mouths connecting harshly as they found one another once again.

His grip was bruising— not possessive in any way, but desperate, like he had to cling to her for dear life or he wouldn't live to see another day. He held himself inside her, sighing and whimpering into her mouth as she clenched around him. It was so familiar, so comfortable and exhilarating that he almost didn't even want to move. He thought about staying there, still inside her forever.

But as always, Y/N was insatiable.

She wrapped all her limbs around him and held on, rolling her hips and seeking friction in any way possible when she briefly tore her lips away from his.

"I need you, baby, please..."

Even as his heart started to rumble in his chest, well aware of the fact that she still probably didn't love him the way he loved her, Spencer gave her everything. He pulled out and snapped his hips forward again, setting a strong, steady pace that had Y/N's eyes rolling back, and the payoff of hearing her sigh out his name was more than enough to keep him going.

Her nails dug deliciously into his shoulders, the faint sting adding something reminiscent of gasoline to a fire. The flames grew taller and brighter the more he fucked her, and with each gradual increase of volume and intensity, it was a wonder the whole kitchen around them hadn't literally burst into flames.

That's how they always were.

Together like this, so lost in the high of each others' bodies, it was easy to forget the things that made their relationship so hard. It was easy to let all the negativity slip away into the throes of pent-up, well-needed sex. The high they gave each other was merely that— A high...

A distraction.

And while that's exactly what Y/N needed, what she preferred in most cases, it's what Spencer recognized as completely unhealthy, despite his coming back to it every time.

It's also why he dreaded the moment ending. Because once they came down from the high, all that's left would be sadness, regret... Guilt... Their fire burned hot, brightly and wildly, but in the aftermath would lay only a thick layer of deadly smoke between them— hard to navigate, and nearly impossible to breathe in without suffocating.

So they simply burned and burned and burned...

Spencer gripped her so tight he was sure to leave her with bruising. And in turn Y/N dragged her nails down his back and dug them into his ass, her palm laying firmly over the muscles that aided in fucking her into the marbled surface. She whined out curses and moans, and he cried out broken whispers of her name, pet names, and curses alike.

Even once she'd come, he kept going, willing himself to hold on as long as he could. She whined into his ear at the overstimulation. And rather than keeping her legs wrapped around his body, she decided to spread them wide, perching her heels up on the counter as far as she could go and anchoring her fingers through his hair.

And though she might not have had enough orgasms in her to keep up with him, she welcomed it all the same—She welcomed the burn just as much as he did.

Even still, no fire can burn forever.

All concept of time was lost by the time Spencer finally collapsed forward, completely spent and barely standing on weak legs after coming twice. Y/N held onto him tightly to keep him upwards, lightly massaging his scalp with gentle fingers and closing her eyes as she focused on his breathing— the way it fanned over the skin of her bare shoulder and how it sounded, perfectly in time with hers...

It was the most peaceful she'd been in a long time.

She felt him pull out of her, the both of them groaning at the feeling, and a little at the mess it would make.

Spencer gently peeled his body off of hers, sniffing once and avoiding her eyes. "Sorry... You just got out of the shower..."

"It's fine," Y/N breathed. She begged him silently to look her in the eye, but he remained still... Most likely thinking. She could practically see the cogs turning in his brain.

So, in an effort to lighten the mood a bit, she added with a breathy laugh, "Besides... It's nothing I haven't done before."

The callback to his words—and memories of all the times they'd found themselves in this position before—got Spencer to laugh a little, but he still wouldn't meet her eyes.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "I'll... I'll grab the wipes?"

"Oh. Sure," Y/N returned with a thankful smile. It was hopeful, too, though the moment he was out of eyesight, it turned rather sad.

She'd known that behavior before, seen that hesitation in his movements and that sound in his voice.

It was guilt.

Regret.

Probably a bit of self-hatred, too.

When he returned, a pile of her clothes in hand and the bag of wipes on top, she took them from him with a kind smile and cleaned herself up while he put his clothes back on.

The silence was more uncomfortable than anything either of them had ever experienced.

So much so, that Y/N couldn't even muster up the courage to ask him to stay for breakfast— and she always did after one of their post-break hookups.

Maybe this time really was different.

Spencer was just at the door again when she stopped him.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice was so small, he almost didn't hear it. "For bringing me home..."

But he paused, turned, and finally looked her in the eye.

He almost sunk to his knees right there...

Seeing her, arms crossed like she was trying to keep warm, as her head hung low and she looked up at him through sad, hooded eyelids...

It reminded him of the woman he fell in love with.

But in his peripheral, he saw the towel on the floor and was reminded of the woman who'd shattered his heart.

Spencer cleared his throat. Once upon a time he might have returned her thanks with, Anytime, but... Honestly he wasn't sure there could ever be another time. For his sanity, he'd have to avoid 'anytime' at all costs.

So, he settled on, "You're welcome."

He was glad to see her return his kind smile with one of her own, even if it was tainted with sadness, and a small wave goodbye.

Maybe this time it would stick.

Even still, as he closed the door behind him and made his way to the parking lot, for some reason it didn't quite feel like goodbye.

And some of that deadly smoke that settled in his lungs as he drove further and further away from her apartment was inclined to agree.

***

Neither of them could sleep that night.

While Spencer stared out the window of the jet, a little annoyed to be called out on a case so late but at least thankful for the distraction, Y/N laid in bed, staring at the stars on her ceiling.

The same constellation caught their eye.

Columba.

The Dove.

She hadn't even meant to arrange the stars like that, but one night after a date, they were laying in her bed and Spencer pointed out that the cluster of plastic stars right in the corner of the ceiling looked like Columba.

Y/N fondly remembered Spencer telling her about how it was originally named to represent Noah's dove, which searched for dry land during the great biblical flood and returned carrying an olive branch to make news of its recession— of peace at last.

The memory made her smile. It tugged at her heart and made her dreams of him even more vivid.

All the same, Spencer noticed the constellation outside the jet window and remembered that same night. The smile on her face as he told her the story, the feel of her fingers gliding softly over the bare skin of his forearm...

It was the first night since he'd met her that he thought it.

I love her...

He almost told her then, too, but he was afraid it was too soon. So he refrained.

Looking back, Spencer was starting to regret that— Maybe without that extra time together, breaking up would have been easier. But instead, he gave her more time. He gave himself more time to fall deeper in love with her, and in the end it still wasn't enough.

Now they were both looking at the same constellation, one made of plastic and the other of gas, wondering if their flood would ever recede.

And in the event that it did... Who would be the dove, and what would be their olive branch?

“You know I dream about getting back together in the future, I could focus on you. But if I leave right now, I hope that you don’t find someone that touches you the way that I do...”

***

SERIES TAGLIST: @reidyoulikeabook @yourmisosoup @fortheloveofcriminalminds @bellzo17 @altsvu @flipperpenguins @mcumorningstar

TAGS NOT WORKING: @reid-to-me @totallyclearwitch

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds angst #losing you twice

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sketching-shark · 3 years

Note

LMK fandom: Oh, what do we do about this guy who has nothing but hurt Xiaotian, tried to replace Sun Wukong and his crew, hurt Tripitaka and ordered servants to cannibalize a monkey? Oh I know! We’ll turn him into our little meow meow~ he’s so innocent and Sun Wukong is obviously the villain!

What doesn’t help is this idea is perpetuated by multiple fan fic writers and artists for some reason. Especially some aus they make that turn SWK into a bastard for the sake of the story rather than considering cultural context and thinking they should be respectful.

And almost everyone lets them get away with it just because the art or fanfic is good and they get so popular that no one can point what is actually wrong without feeling like they’re going to get attacked.

I'm starting to feel like my blog is the one anons go to specifically to vent their frustrations about the Six Eared Macaque in his lego monkey show form & the associated fandom lmao. But I guess this makes sense, as I’ve had fun quasi-dragging him before & will in fact use this anon submission as an opportunity to have my own, to put it academically, bitch fest about not just this fandom's favorite protagonist-traumatizing meow meow, but about the way villains are often treated in not just fanon, but increasingly in canon works as well. But same policy as with the last anon; I'll post my opinions below the cut, and as fandoms love to say, don’t like don't read if you don't want to see me dunking on the six eared simian & common fandom tendencies towards villains.

Oh man I would say where would you even begin with this but anon you’ve pretty much started yourself with my main gripe with a lot of ways that the Six-Eared Macaque is portrayed in fandom; there seems to be this unspoken agreement that his acts of violence towards Sun Wukong, Qi Xioatian, and Qi Xioatian’s loved ones are either to be framed as somewhat or totally justified, to be immediately forgiven/excused, or to simply & completely be ignored. Like friends maybe this is just me not seeing the proper posts but while the fandom is inundated with art and fanfics of Macaque as a generally decent individual & a true member of team good guy, I have yet to see one person address the fact that this monkey literally kidnapped & mind-controlled Xiaotian’s best friend and father figures & forced them to brutalize Xiaotian while ol’ Six Ear looked on and laughed (X_X). Like this kind of fandom villain treatment is definitely not something that’s solely at work for Monkie Kid, but it is kind of nutty how fandoms will swing between yelling that people should be allowed to like villains without even mild critique, and then will just flat-out not address the villainous behavior, and will even bend over backwards to frame even characters who committed genocide as just poor innocent widdle victims who need a hug. At its worst, I’ve even seen tons of people in a fandom get really angry at other people who don’t like a villain, and will even start accusing those people of hating real-life mentally disabled or abused individuals all because they don’t like the fandom’s favorite literal war criminal. The Monkie Kid fandom is FAR more chill & better than a lot of other fandoms I’ve come across in that regard, but that is an exceedingly low bar, & the tendency to woobify certain kinds of villains-- as with Macaque and the extreme emphasis on his bad boy/sad boy thing--is very much at work.

I’ve also talked before about a kind of monoculturalization of certain character interpretations and story beats in fandoms, and one of the more popular ones that seems to be applied to Macaque a lot is the “hero actually bad, villain actually good” cliche, as observable from the general fandom assumption that Mr. Six-Ears he wasn’t even slightly lying or remembering things through a rose-tinted or skewed lens when he gave his version of his and Sun Wukong’s past. Like at this point it seems the possibility that people WILL NOT even consider is that Sun Wukong never did & still doesn't care that much about the Six Eared Macaque (in JTTW they weren’t sworn brothers & in Monkie Kid the only thing the monkey king really said to Macaque before attacking him was a pretty contemptuous "Aren't you ever going to get sick of living under my shadow?," & responds to his "beloved friend" getting blown up with "You did good, bud" to Qi Xiaotian, who did the exploding), or that their original fight may in fact have mostly been instigated by Macaque. After all, to repeat what this anon summarized & what I've said before about their original JTTW context (& in an example of the things that do feel like it's often lost in translation) is that the Six Ear Macaque was a villain not just because he beat up the Tang Monk, but because he wanted to take over Sun Wukong's entire life and identity so he could have all that glory, prestige, and power for himself. To quote the macaque himself from the Anthony C. Yu translation, "I struck the T'ang monk and I took the luggage...precisely because I want to go to the West all by myself to ask Buddha for the scriptures. When I deliver them to the Land of the East, it will be my success and no one else's. Those people of the South Jambudvipa Continent will honor me then as their patriarch and my fame will last for all posterity." And in order to do this, the Six Eared Macaque had apparently made Sun Wukong's "little ones," his monkey family, his captives through either trickery or force, and gotten a number of them to take on the appearance of Tang Sanzang and the other pilgrims. It's also made clear that in very direct contrast to Sun Wukong, he doesn't care about these monkeys beyond how they might serve him. In fact, after Sha Wujing kills the monkey posing as him the Six Eared Macaque not only all but immediately replaces him with another, but also "told his little ones to have the dead monkey skinned. Then his meat was taken to be fried and served as food along with coconut and grape wines." So this monkey is not only willing to risk the lives of a lot of other monkeys for his own personal benefit, but is also a literal cannibal. And yes yes, I know a lot of people have argued that Monkie Kid shouldn't be considered a direct sequel to JTTW & that's fair enough (for example, Sun Wukong probably shouldn't be smashing anyone into a meat patty in a children's cartoon lol). And of course, it needs to be noted that there are a buttload of really out there & really cursed pieces of media based on JTTW & that were created in China. Yet the above description is the oft-ignored in the west original facet of the Six Eared Macaque's character. And it is this selfishness, entitlement, and treatment of other individuals as tools for his own self-serving ends that is, from where I’m standing, still very much present in Monkie Kid. Like besides repeatedly going out of his way to physically and psychologically traumatize Xioatian, with the last episode Macaque seemed to be going right back to his manipulative ways. I’ve seen people frame their last conversation as Macaque softening to Xioatian a little bit, but personally that read a lot more like that common tactic among abusers where even after they’ve hurt you they’ll dangle something you want or need over your head (in Macaque’s case, the promise of desperately needed training and information about a serious looming threat), with the implication that you’ll only get it if you do what they want you to, such as, in this case, Xioatian going back to Macaque as his student even after having been so terribly hurt by this monkey, which would give Macaque power over Xiaotian and probably Sun Wukong as a result. And it is this violence and manipulation that it seems the fandom at large has tacitly decided shouldn’t even be addressed, instead leaning more towards a (and this is an exaggeration) “Six-Eared Macaque my poor meow meow Sun Wukong has always been bad & has always been wrong about literally everything” reading.

And while it is the case that I am not Chinese and feel that as such it would be best left to someone who actually comes from that background to provide more context into how common interpretations of the Six Eared Macaque from China may clash really badly with the stuff the western fandom creates, it also must be noted that, as much as we all want to have fun in fandom & in spite of all the out-there versions of JTTW from China, we westerners should recognize that there is a very long and very ugly history of western countries stripping other cultures’ important religious and literary works for parts & mashing them into their own thing while implying or even insisting that what they present provides a true understanding of the original piece. And while I trust most individuals in regards to Monkie Kid are able to step back and think “this is a lego cartoon and not a set guide for how I should understand JTTW” (especially given the insistence that JTTW and Monkie Kid should be considered there own separate works) there does nevertheless seem to be something of a tendency to take the conclusions people come to, for example, about Sun Wukong’s characteristic in his lego form & then assume that’s just reflective to Sun Wukong as a totality. I imagine a good portion of this is due to people not reading JTTW & especially to not having easy access to solid information or answers about JTTW’s many different facets (like geez awhile ago I was trying to get a clear answer on what is considered the most accurate translation of the names of Sun Wukong’s six sworn brothers & got like 5 different responses lmao), but that tendency to take a western fandom interpretation & run with it instead of doing any background research or questioning said interpretation is still very much at play. As such, & as made prominent in the way people have been interpreting the dynamic between Sun Wukong and the Six Eared Macaque in the lego monkey show, tbh it does seem kind of shitty for western creators & audience to sometimes go really out of their way to ignore all of this original cultural & narrative context for the sake of Angst (TM) in Macaque's favor, demonizing Sun Wukong, and shipping the monkey king with his evil twin (X_X).

And speaking of which, even beyond the potential inherent creepiness & revulsion that can be inspired by this specific ship given common interpretations of the og classic's original meaning (again, it's my understanding, given both summaries of translated Chinese academic texts I've been kindly provided with, my own reading of the Anthony C. Yu translation of JTTW, & vents from a number of Chinese people I've seen on this site, that the Six-Eared Macaque is commonly interpreted in China as having originated from Sun Wukong himself as a living embodiment of his worst traits, hence why only Buddha can tell the difference between them & why the monkey king is much more slow to violence after he kills the macaque), I'd argue that in the face of all the uwu poor widdle meow meow portrayals lego show Macaque is, especially if you include JTTW's events, still in the role of “Sun Wukong but worse” as he is very much a violent & selfish creep. Like he was basically running around in JTTW wearing a Sun Wukong fursuit, but there he had the sole reason of wanting to replace Sun Wukong wholesale so he could have all the good things in the monkey king's life without actually having to work as hard for them. But if you combine that with Macaque now claiming that he used to be best friend with Sun Wukong in his pre-journey days (something that's made funny from a JTTW context given that that status actually belongs to the Demon Bull King lol), his original violence has now blown into this centuries long and really unhealthy obsession with the monkey king. Like he's apparently gone from wanting to literally be Sun Wukong to being so obsessed with getting revenge on Sun Wukong that he's got basically nothing else going on in his life. Like he's only appeared in two episodes but...does he have any friends? Any family? A career or even a hobby that DOESN'T center the monkey king? Anything at all outside of his "get revenge on and/or kill Sun Wukong/use his successor as my personal punching bag” thing? Like dude! That is extremely creepy and extremely bad for everyone all around! As I’ve said before, this seeming refusal to see beyond the past or to do something that doesn’t involve Sun Wukong in some capacity is a trait that makes Macaque an interesting and somewhat tragic villain--he even seems to be working as Sun Wukong’s reflection in a mirror darkly, with lego show Sun Wukong pretty clearly not being able to heal from his own past which is hinted to be defined by one loss after another, and with Monkie Kid even kind of having these two characters somewhat follow their JTTW characterizations in that in the latter half of the journey Sun Wukong often gets sad & starts crying in the face of what seems insurmountable odds (& Monkie Kid Sun Wukong does seem to be hiding some serious depression behind a cheerful facade), whereas the Six-Eared Macaque retains a worse version of Sun Wukong’s pre-journey characteristic of getting pissed and lashing out if things don’t go his way--but it’s also what would make any current friendship or romantic relationship between these monkeys horrific. Although to be fair even the fandom seems to recognize this in an unconscious way, in that a lot of the art & fanfic seems to swing erratically between them kissing & screaming at each other in yet another example of bog-standard fandom adulation of romanticized toxic relationships lol.

At the end of the day, of course, this is nothing new. You'll find versions of this dynamic across a ton of fandoms and now even canonical work. And as such, I can only look at this kind of popularized relationship dynamic with a kind of resigned weariness whenever it pops up, & my frustrated question with the popularity of this kind of pairing is the exact same one that I have for a multitude of blatantly toxic villain/hero ships, given common fandom discourse & the tendency to either ignore or justify the villain's actions & demonize the hero: if you're THAT convinced that everything is the hero's fault, if you believe THAT much that the hero is the one in the wrong for the villain's pain and their subsequent actions, then why are you so set on them not only becoming a romantic pair, but framing this get-together as a good thing? Like I know we contain multitudes but that's waaay too many contradictions for me to wrap my head around. And it definitely doesn’t help that one branch of underlying reasoning behind this kind of pairing seems to be the ever-present “you break it, you fix it” mentality, where the assumption is that if you’re in a failing, abusive, and/or generally toxic relationship (platonically or romantically), if you put in enough time and effort & attempts to compromise, you’ll be able to restore/have the relationship you dreamed of, even with someone who hurt you really badly. And this assumption isn’t limited to fandom: I’d even argue that it’s everywhere in the culture, hence why a lot of people feel like they “failed” if they have to get a divorce or make the choice to leave an unhealthy friendship. Personally, I feel like people could really benefit from more stories about how it is not only the case that the people you hurt don’t owe you their forgiveness & you can still become a better and happier person without the one you hurt in your life, & that while it can be really hard it can also be a good thing to leave a relationship, even if it’s one that once meant a lot to you.

But in all honestly, from my own perspective this kind of pairing is starting to read far less like enemies to lovers and far more like a horrible fantasy where you can pull whatever shit you want, even on the people you "love," & never be held accountable for your terrible behavior or even have to consider that maybe you were in the wrong. It's another facet that makes me larf every time I see people insist that fandom is an inherently "transformative" or "progressive" form of storytelling like friends you are literally just taking status quo toxic monogamy & rebranding it as somehow beneficial & romantic (X_X).

But as to anon’s last frustration, it is hard to know what is the appropriate response with this kind of thing...like for my own part I’m keeping my frustrations to my blog & now increasingly to posts that you would have to click on the “read more” button to see what I have to say, but I totally get the hesitation to give even a mild critique to big names in a fandom. Like I've now seen it happen repeatedly where someone who has a big name in a fandom will make something that's kind of shitty for one reason or another, someone will message them with some version of "hey, that's kind of shitty, you shouldn't do that," and the typical response is either to blatantly ignore the issue completely, or more popularly to make a giant crying circus that seems deliberately geared towards stoking emotions on both sides of the, for example, fiction does/doesn't affect reality issue so that something that didn't even have to be that big a deal gets blown out of all proportion, with the big name often framing what often started out as a very mild critique into a long crying jag about how the initial response to their kind of shitty thing was so mean/cruel and they're just a poor innocent & that YOU'RE the true racist/sexist/bigot etc. if you don't agree with their opinion. It must of course be noted that there have also been numerous instances of people taking it too far the other way & sending not just big names but smaller creators literal deaths threats over stuff like innocuous ships which like holy hell bells people that’s a horrible thing to do. But for the big names at least, the end result of all this fighting is usually that once the dust has settled they have more attention/fame/money/power in the fandom than before, and with anyone who might have a problem with their stuff feeling afraid to voice their opinion lest they be swarmed by that person's fans. In that way fandom does often seem to increasingly be geared towards presenting an “official” fandom perspective about various facets of a piece of media instead of allowing for a multitude of interpretations, and with criticism, no matter its shape or form or how genuinely warranted it may be, being hounded out of existence. I feel like a lot of this could be made less bad if there wasn’t this constant assumption & even drive to think that a different interpretation of or criticism of your favorite work of fiction or your fanwork isn’t a direct claim that you are a thoroughly loathsome individual (& maybe also if people cultivated an enjoyment of learning things about important works from a culture outside their own, even if what you learn clashes with your own initial understandings), but I guess we’ll see if that ever happens.

So these are my general thinks about the Six Eared Macaque’s current fandom meow meow status & some of my bigger gripes with fandom tendencies as a whole. I stand by my idea that the most interesting & beneficial route for Macaque moving forward would be a kind of “redemption without forgiveness from the ones you hurt” arc--as I think was done pretty excellently with the character Grace in Infinity Train--and if for no other reason than gosh dern this monkey really needs to cultivate some sort of identity beyond his “Sun Wukong but worse” persona.

#lmk macaque #monkie kid macaque #6 eared macaque #monkie kid #lmk sun wukong #qi xiaotian #lmk monkey king #sun wukong #monkey king #journey to the west #jttw #fandom criticism #lmk

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callmearcturus · 2 years

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SWDKTOWL preview: the dreamboat and the red tide

this is gonna go up by friday and tip the fic over the 100K mark. the full bonus chapter is 6k and its literally just 6k of dave and karkat having fun together.

here's the opener, before the sexy starts. well, mostly. dave is at his most dangerous.

Dave had meticulously arranged the itinerary for the evening. He'd called in favors, he'd actually planned things more than a day in advance, which was in of itself a new record for him. He was going to make dinner, have some actual adult drinks that Aradia helped him liberate from the bar, and was going to get laid.

Truly a great plan. He was pretty hyped for it. Karkat liked food with a crunch to it, so Dave was making peppercorn crusted steaks like a total fucking dreamboat. On top of that, he decided to dress like a direct attack on Karkat Vantas, with his shorts and his black tank on, draped in the loose flannel that Karkat had accidentally left a few weeks ago. He wore it open and tied in a little knot over his hips like the most State Fair Debutante that had ever hit Chi-town.

He was gonna get to ride the red tentacle train, it was on lock.

Only three people had the key to his place. One was upstairs hopefully minding her fuckin' business. One was… out on a job in Paris? And the last finally showed up right as his risotto was doing the part the fucking sea thing it was supposed to, awesome. As the door opened, he called out, "When you try this shit, you are going to be so goddamn impressed, you'll have no choice but to ravish me. Right up against the window, makin' a whole scene, getting us a citation."

He could hear Karkat's footsteps as he came around to the kitchen, and he could also hear the stop-step as he came to a halt when he laid eyes on Dave.

Fuckin' yahtzee. Grinning like a demon, Dave tapped the end of his spoon against the counter. "Don't let me doooown, sweet mama, oh I'm an hooonest man dyin' to get you in the palm of my hand," he drawled along with Cauthen, swinging his voice down as low as he could manage.

"I… uh." Karkat's voice had that fucking vibratto already going on, which was doing wonders for Dave's confidence. "Sounds like you're having a good day."

"Not yet, but I will," Dave said, and finally did his move, planting one foot firmly and tossing a look over his shoulder with as much slyness he could muster.

Karkat's face was flushed red, which was a new one. Trolls didn't blush like humans, and seeing the rich flush was startling enough Dave turned all the way around to look him over. "Whoa. Never seen you in technicolor like that before."

"Ha," Karkat said, voice already low and rumbly. He raked his hand through his hair, and Dave could have swore his eyes were doing the glowy thing? Maybe. "Just having a— it's a troll thing, don't worry about it. I'm good." His eyes raked down Dave's legs, up to his hips before he jerked them away, clearing his throat in a bumpy gravel road of a growl.

"Sure." He wondered if Karkat would be warmer to the touch if he reached out and touched him. With an truly enormous surplus of patience, he plated up food and mixed up two drinks.

With some aggressive bullying and promises, Dave had bossed Karkat into stealing one of the rolling prep tables from the kitchens to add to his own set-up. They ate there, mostly because Dave wanted to keep moving to the music and to do that thing where he leaned on the island and sloped his shoulders just so. He'd maybe tested it in front of the mirror a few times.

It was working; Karkat kept conspicuously looking away, doing everything he could not to stare. It was pretty funny to watch happen. Sipping his drink, Karkat kept growling, then thumping his fist against his chest to almost dislodge it, make it settle down.

"Problem?" Dave asked, leaning his chin on his hand. He did not flutter his eyelashes, though he was tempted.

"No, nothing, I'm fine. You…" He swallowed, and smiled nervously. "I feel like I'm being stalked by some carnivorous beast. Are you going to jump me the moment I turn around?"

"If I can get a runnin' start."

Karkat looked sharply away, grinning sheepishly.

The food was fucking great, no mistake, and worth all the work he poured into it (and the wine, obviously). "I could," Dave said as he sipped his fancy cocktail, "get into all the nuances of the sound here, because we haven't listened to a ton of country yet, and the gradients between pop country to this, which is much more bluesy. But."

"What makes the music blue," Karkat asked.

"Oh my god, don't," Dave jabbed a finger at him. "Do not distract me with your sad void of knowledge, I don't wanna be here all night educating your ass."

"Other plans?" Karkat asked, and slammed back his drink in one swallow, which: woof. Okay.

"Maybe. Might do." Dave stepped around the island to get close to him, taking his glass with three fingers and tipping it back, taking an ice cube between his lips. His tongue pressed against cool, boozy ice.

Karkat's hands caught Dave's waist, and he lifted Dave onto the island, bodily pushing his legs apart to stand between them.

Jackpot. Dave waggled his eyebrows blatantly, getting his ankles to cross behind Karkat's back.

Two sharp claws hooked into the knot of the flannel, and Karkat leaned against Dave's chest, letting out a fucking three-part harmony of purry goodness.

"Hi," Dave whispered, swallowing the melting chip of ice, and cupped his hand over Karkat's neck. "Oh, running real hot huh?"

Karkat looked up with eyes that burned like banked embers. "Yeah. I should…" He licked his lips, looking at Dave's before he straightened up. His hands rested on Dave's legs like he was going to brace himself and back away, but as he touched, he looked sharply down at Dave's bare legs and said, "Fucking goddammit, this is not fucking fair, Dave."

"Nope," Dave said, popping the 'p' obnoxiously. "I'm playin' for keeps and not pussyfootin' around with you, tiger."

#swdktowl #my fic #this is so joyously ridiculous #dave deserves to have fun

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angelltheninth · 3 years

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Hey! Can I request a fic where the reader is an angel who is here to help Charlie with the hotel and Angel dust is annoying and flirting with them nonstop just to get under their skin (and see how perfectly fake they are as angels) but surprisingly the reader is very genuine and real? Angel is caught off guard but also flattered, now wanting to get to know them better. Cue him asking the reader out in his very own special way lol😂 Thank you, I hope this isn’t too long!❤️

I think this is the most packed request yet, but sure I can do that. Sorry it took me a bit Anon! I hope you like the result.

You walk trough the Hotel with a big stack of papers in your hands on your way to deliver them to Charlie. You chuckle at the thought of that girl, how can she be so angelic and be the Princess of Hell. Definitely not what you expected of her when you can down from Heaven. You were initially there to just check things out but before you knew it you found yourself helping the Princess with her cause, as impossible as it might seem.

You knock on the door and after hearing a bit of shuffling and a "come in" you open the door. Charlie is sitting at her desk with her girlfriend leaning on one side of it.

"Charlie!" You greet her cheerfully, "Here's the latest reports. And info on some potential clients." You walk over to the desk and hand her the papers.

"Thanks. That looks like a lot, but that just means we've gotten more popular. I hope." Charlie takes the papers already looking over them.

"Vaggie." You nod at the spear wielding moth demon. That one is always on edge around you, especially when you're around Charlie. And you don't know why.

She gives you a nod in return.

You turn around with a smile before walking out of the office. Just as you close the door you feel and arm around your shoulders, "Hey handsome." Angel purrs in your ear. You groan and look to your side, the spider demon leaning onto you, two hand on his hips.

"Angel." You offer him a friendly smile. The spider demon has been flirting with you ever since you arrived.

"So..." He smiles, running a hand across your spine and one of your wings, making you shiver, "I know you angels are all about being holy and shit like that but you do fuck right? You ever fuck a demon?"

A blush spreads across your face from his words, "Excuse me?! No! Of course I haven't!"

"Would you like to?" Angel runs his hand across your cheek, slowly and gently, "Come on, you're in Hell, you can let lose here. I know you wanna."

"I... I don't know what you're playing at here but I'm not interested in having a "fuck buddy" as Husk put it one evening." You cross your arms over your chest, still blushing. The thought of you doing something sinful like that.... what would God think. You shiver at the thought of him being disappointed.

Angel seems to almost sense your discomfort, he slowly backs away now a serious look on his face, "Wait... Have you never fucked before?"

"I have! Just never with a demon, and never like a one-night stand kind of thing. It was always more... meaningful. When you started flirting with me after I arrived I thought... I... I don't know what I though. Excuse me. I have work to do." You hang your head low and quickly pass by Angel, making sure to avoid eye contact at all costs.

Angel just stands there for a while. Then makes his way to the bar, sitting down with a heavy sigh, "Fuck me into a coma." He groans into all four of his hands.

"What's with you?" Husk asks in his growly voice, as he takes a gulp from a bottle.

"I think I screwed up Husky. Get me a drink ok love cat?" Angel sighs.

"Don't call me that." Despite Husks mood he gives Angel a drink, he chugs it all, "Is it the angel?" Husk had been forced to watch Angel's flirting for a while and he wished Angel would just make a move already. It was obvious Angel had a crush.

"I think... I think they actually like me. Or might have? And I made them uncomfortable." There was genuine regret in Angel's voice, the kind Husk hadn't heard before.

"They're still here right?" Angel nods, "Then talk. Don't even worry about it. If they like you they like you. If they don't then you shot your shot."

"But... I didn't think they would actually fall for me. I mean I'm hotter then Hell itself and I give better bj's than anyone... but no one's ever liked me like that. Its kind of exciting, too exciting and I don't wanna be too excited cause I might mess up." Angel slumped into the chair.

"Oh for fucks sake." Husk slammed another glass of alcohol in front of Angel, "Just be honest you moron. You're always blunt so shouldn't be hard. You got nothing to lose anyways."

Angel's eyes widened, "Wow... Husky I didn't know you cared that much about me." Angel winked.

"I don't. I'm just sick to my stomach from your disguising flirting attempts." Angel chuckled and downed the second drink. He stood up, looking determined.

Angel took a deep breath, "Thanks for the pep talk." He shot Husk a pair of finger guns as he walked away. Husk just shook his head as he downed the bottle he started before Angel arrived.

Angel spent a few days just observing. Truthfully he didn't know much about angels or what they liked or how their kind behaved. But he wanted to learn. So he just kept his distance for a while. Sure he could just ask but that might seem suspicious, and he wanted to plan a nice surprise.

After a while he decided he formed a decent plan to ask them out.

He had it all planned out. Flowers, chocolate, good food, chocolate flavored lube in case things went really, really well and lastly wings. From his observations his lovely angel enjoyed flying, since he himself couldn't fly he figured maybe if he at least had wings they would look somewhat similar, other that part of his name was literally Angel.

He walked trough the hallways, flowers and chocolate in hand when he ran into Vaggie. She stopped abruptly and looked at him up and down, eyes narrowing at the wings, "That's so offensive."

"What?" Angel cocked his head to the side in confusion.

"Good luck." She mumbled as she passed him. He just shrugged and went on his way. He reached the door and knocked. As the footsteps approached he tugged in his bowtie, it suddenly seemed a little tight.

You were in the middle of reading a book when the knock interrupted. You don't know who to expect at this hour but you to open the door anyway. You see Angel standing there with a bunch of flowers, a big box of chocolate and... wings. You grimace at the angelic wings, "That's offensive."

"You too?! That grumpy broad told me the same fucking thing!" Angel throws his hands up in the air, "I though you'd like these, you know, cause you got a pair and I've got a pair."

"I don't know if that was an innuendo or not but... I can see the care in the gesture just don't try that again. God gave us these wings." You spread your wings before folding them again, "Don't mock them."

"Alright, alright. I got it. But uh... if you could just forget that part... maybe you could... Ah fuck. This isn't going well is it." Angel mumbles to himself, you barely hear him.

"What isn't?" You ask genuinely curious.

"I like you. I do. So I wanted to ask you out. You know since you don't do one-night stands and all that. And I thought maybe you like me. And I know you like flying so I thought maybe you'd like the wings. Guess not." Angel looks down, a sad expression over his face.

You take in everything he just told you, "Oh."

"Look, it don't matter now ok. Just forget it." Angel turns, beginning to walk away when you grab his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

"Wait. Um... I don't mind... well the wings yeah but the rest, its sweet of you. I know its not how you usually do things." You try to avoid his eyes but you can't seem to stop glancing at him, "Look I don't know if I like you like that... yet. But maybe we can go on a few dates, see how things turn out?" You scratch the back of your head.

"So... that's a yes to the date right." You nod your head, "Ah fuck yes!" Angel shouts and scoops you in a hug. You yelp and blush a deep red from the closeness, "Oh, sorry handsome. Got a bit excited. You still want the flowers and the chocolates?"

You laugh, "Yeah." Angel hands you the items, both of you blushing more as your hands brush against each others, "We can iron out the details another time? Its late and today's been a long day."

Angel grins at you, "Sure thing. Sweet dreams, maybe with me in them." Angel winks as he turns and walks away with a little pep in his step, almost skipping.

As you close the door you hear him shout cheerfully before down the hall. You look forward to your date, sure that if nothing else its gonna be memorable.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #angel dust #angel dust x reader #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fic

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