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bettyfrommars · 11 months

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I'm on Fire//biker!Eddie x fem!artist!Reader//Part 11

18+Only, pls no minors, jealous!Eddie, biker!Steve, possessiveness, mention of violence, alcohol consumption, mention of sex, rich people being rich, celebrity sighting, reader wears a dress and heels (for the sake of this story, please pretend that designers made dresses for all sizes in the 90's), dirty deeds, mention of an abusive relationship, being in love. Word count: 8.4k

Summary: As Eddie falls for you more and more, his jealousy comes to the surface. You have a scare as something reminds you of a bad relationship from your past, and you go out to dinner with a potential client, forcing Eddie to profess his feelings as he struggles with the fear of losing you. Steve is offered a new job opportunity that sounds almost too good to be true.

Series Masterlist

A/N: It's been a long time coming 🙃 I am worried that writing the next chapter might get me pregnant. Your comments/messages about this story mean everything to me, and this story wouldn't even exist without the love you've shown it. Thank you, I love you.

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I'm on Fire Part 11: No Ordinary Love

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Eddie showed up at the Velvet Hammer while you were working that night to make the non-verbal announcement that you were his girl to anyone who might not know it yet, and you took your break so he could fill you in on some of the drama with Steve. He sucked down two cigarettes in the span of 15 minutes, and you could tell that the stress was getting to him.

“Poor Robin,” your eyes glazed over a bit as you stared at the ground, your heart hurting. “She must be a wreck.”

Eddie nodded as he blew smoke to the side. “This isn’t even about Oliver, that greedy bitch just wants more money.”

You searched his face, trying to understand. “You mean, she doesn’t want Oliver in her life?”

Eddie shot the corners of his mouth down in a frown as he flicked ash to the pavement. “Hell no. Steve basically has to pay her off every now and then just so she will leave them alone,” and then Eddie’s eyes narrowed at the empty space in front of him. “No one is taking Oliver away, I can promise you that.”

Eddie stepped back to look you up and down, licking his lips, bucking his chin. “Has anyone tried to hit on you tonight?”

“Eddie…” you sighed and rolled your eyes a little.

“I’m serious,” he finished his cig and threw it to the ground. “I don’t want any of these fuckers thinking they can touch you.”

“Baby,” you wrapped your arms around him and put your head to his chest. “It’s just a job, and no one gets to touch me but you.”

“That’s fucking right,” he murmured, bending his head to kiss you. You still didn’t know that Charlene was the reason you lost the job you loved as a gallery director, and keeping that from you continued to gnaw at him.

He grabbed your chin to force your gaze up to meet his. “I’m dead serious, babe. It’s a respect thing. If anyone crosses a line with you in here, I’ll find out about it, and I’ll break their fucking hand.”

He wasn’t trying to scare you, personally, but his tone was intense, and a drastic change to how he normally spoke to you.

“I know, baby,” you answered in a whisper, suddenly feeling a damp heat between your thighs at his possessiveness over you.

The outfit you were wearing must’ve been turning him on too, because he groaned against your mouth, pulling your hips against his, not caring that the friction shot a ripple of pain into his stab wound.

“You’re gonna make me go back into work all turned on, babe,” you breathed between kisses. You slipped your hands around his ribs under the warmth of his leather.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, fingers digging into your thighs. “I’m about to take you right here. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

You pulled back to search his face, your brows knitting together. “Yeah, why have we been waiting?”

Eddie picked up the back of your skirt so that his middle finger could rub your slit over your underwear while he palmed your ass and it made you whimper. “I wanted it to be...special, I guess,” he admitted, brushing your lips with his, his finger teasing the soft skin at your underwear line.

“You just got stabbed, baby. I don’t want you to---”

“Shhhhhhh,” he said, rubbing his nose against yours. “It’s not my first stab wound baby, and it won’t be my last.”

“Wait,” you put your hand on his chest. “Is that supposed to comfort me?”

Just then the door to the bar flew open with a bang, like someone had kicked it, Sex on Wheelz by My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult blasting into the alleyway, and Eddie did quick work of moving in front of you, blocking your raised skirt from view while you adjusted yourself, and he was glaring at whoever it was.

Jackie stepped out with a Pall Mall between her lips, and paused to shoot the two of you a curious look, wiggling her brows. “What’s been going on out here, kids? None of that hanky panky, I hope.”

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A day later, there was a very familiar hunter green SUV parked outside of your place when you rolled around the corner to park in the driveway after some grocery shopping. It as a fairly popular model, and so you didn’t think much of it until you saw that the plates were from Michigan---the state you’d lived in until a year ago when you finally accepted Katie’s invitation to move in with her.

A freezing cold flush of blood burst through your veins as you sat in your car, afraid to get out.

The fear that your ex-fiance Craig would find you and come knocking on your door one day never left you, but your defenses had been lowering as you got comfortable in Hawkins; maybe you’d gotten too comfortable. Maybe you hadn’t covered your tracks enough and someone from your past had told him where you were.

Everything you’d been through in the past few weeks, and now this? You were actually too petrified to move, thinking maybe it was better to start your car up and drive away. But, if he knew where you lived, you would never be free of him. You’d have to get another restraining order, which never did any good anyway. You might even have to move again.

Tears threatened behind your eyes, as adrenaline pumped through you, but then you glanced up and saw Katie come around the corner of the house with an older woman in a floral pantsuit and a bob of gray hair.

Katie paused, and bent down to give you a questioning look, wondering why you were still sitting in your car, lurking. You watched the gray haired woman walk over to the SUV and unlock it with her key, as a gust of stale air escaped your chest with a hiss.

The hunter green SUV belonged to another teacher from the school, Ms. Olsen, and later on, once you were in the house, you told Katie about your moment of panic.

“God,” she was perched on the arm of the sofa. “You really think that piece of shit would go through that much trouble to find you? And then drive all the way out here?”

“In a heartbeat,” you said, pressing your dry lips together. “But, as far as Craig knows, I moved to Oregon to live near my mom, so Hawkins would be completely off his radar. I hope so, anyway.”

Katie stood up. “Well, thankfully it was just a scare. Holy shit, by the look on your face I thought you caught Eddie with another girl again or something.”

You huffed a heavy breath as you dropped your bag onto the side table. “Yeah, I still have the photos. Maybe we should have them framed or something. To remember the good ol’ times.”

“I’m taking Robin out for happy hour to try and get her mind off of things,” Katie called to you as she opened the refrigerator and bent in to grab a soda. She was on her lunch break and on her way back to the school. “Do you want to come with? Just us girls? Steve has Ollie at the tattoo shop with him.”

You declined the offer only because you still needed to call John Gregson, and you wanted to catch him during office hours.

It took a while to get beeped through to his personal secretary, but when she finally took your call, she told you that Mr. Gregson was out of the office, but that she would get a message to him for you. Her snobby tone gave you the feeling that she was going to throw your message in the trash the second you hung up, but not five minutes later---he called you back.

“Hey there,” he beamed. You could hear him smiling through the phone. “I’m sorry my secretary made you wait. I told her to patch you through to my personal line next time.”

“I’m surprised you even remembered my name,” you were standing at the counter in front of a pad of paper with a pen in your hand just in case you needed to write anything down.

You’d be lying if you said the first few minutes of the conversation were completely innocent and did not dabble in flirtation. Your loyalty to Eddie was deep, but kindling a bit of a friendship with John was a necessary evil for the time being. A couple thousand dollars for a painting and a chance to let Charlene know you had tricks too? Priceless.

While he was letting you know what size canvas he wanted and some prominent color choices, you drifted off a bit, wondering if John knew about Charlene’s affair. Affairs, plural? You did not get the sense that he was at all lacking in cognitive function, and since he was such a successful business man, you assumed he could read people pretty well.

“Are you free for dinner tonight?”

He had to repeat it because your mind had gone rogue.

“Dinner? Tonight?” He continued. “With me.”

You had zero romantic feelings for John—your heart was very much engaged elsewhere---so you could shrug it off as a platonic business deal. But, you also couldn’t help but wonder how your newly christened boyfriend Eddie would feel about it. Appearances aside, he had to understand that, much like the guys you were nice to at the Velvet Hammer---it was just a job. Plus, John was very openly married, and attempting a blatant affair with you wouldn’t be a bright move.

Still, it felt like he was asking you on date.

“I could come to your office tomorrow? I’m free all day.” You offered.

“I won’t be in the office tomorrow, I’m flying to Boston for the rest of the week, but I could pick you up later today around 7:00?” He sounded humble, but at the same time very sure of himself. “You see, there is this new restaurant on the lake with a collection of artwork I’d think you’d enjoy. We could talk about the commission there in a more relaxed setting.”

You swallowed. He was very persuasive, you’d give him that. You knew the exact restaurant he was talking about; Sakura Black was owned by a movie star who had a vacation home in town. It was strictly reservation only and you’d always wanted to see what it was like on the inside. There was a private airport nearby and helicopter pad on the roof for the wealthy elite to pop over from the city for dinner to enjoy “small town life”.

You gnawed at your bottom lip for a few seconds, doodling frantic circles all over the pad of paper with your pen, and then you accepted.

“Well, you just made my day,” John told you.

After you hung up the phone, your hand stayed on the receiver, and you said, “fuck,” under your breath.

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“What do you mean he asked you out to dinner? You mean, like a date?” Eddie asked gruffly.

Eddie was in his coveralls with an over sized wrench in his hand with grease smeared across his cheek and thighs. You showed up at the garage about an hour after you’d talked to John, feeling like this was a conversation that needed to happen in person.

He frowned as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the desk in the office. His new part time helper Dana had just left and Wayne was away having one of his chemo treatments. He was leaning away from you, teeth grinding, jaw muscles flexing, as he absorbed the news. He had been damn near giddy when he saw you park and walk over; eagerly pulling your mouth to his as a smile stretched his lips. “Damn, I’ve missed my girl,” he’d murmured as he nuzzled your nose, and then the three other mechanics behind him started whistling and shouting, “get a room!” To which Eddie grabbed your hand and flipped them off.

“It’s not a romantic date, baby. He just wants to talk about this commission I’m going to do for him,” you soothed, giving him space as you rested your shoulder against the green metal door.

“Sure he does,” Eddie chided. But then he sucked his teeth and tried to cool the hot emotions that were bubbling up. “What did you say his name was?”

This was the even trickier part.

You sighed and rubbed your fingers across your forehead before you met his gaze again. “His name is John. John Gregson.”

Eddie snorted and turned on his heel, rubbing his hands down his face. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, babe. Please tell me you’re joking?” After keeping his back to you for a bit, shoulders tight, he finally turned around to face you and tapped the desk with his knuckle as he spoke. “You know who he is, right? Who he’s married to?”

You nodded as you gazed at the scuffed toes of his boots and the frayed ends of his coveralls where they sat at his laces.

Eddie gave a few slow blinks, spreading his fingers on the desk to brace himself as he leaned. “I don’t feel good about this, babe. I don’t want you alone with this guy.”

You did your best to explain the situation to him, going all the way back to when John purchased some art from an outdoor festival you participated in a few years ago, to how he recognized you at the Velvet Hammer, and then Steve giving you his card to hopefully bring some money your way.

Eddie waited, but his expression of doubt stayed the same. “Listen,” he ran the tip of his tongue over his top lip and came a bit closer to you, crossing his arms again. “I appreciate that you told me. But you don’t know these people, baby. They are rich and they are mean. They don’t care who they hurt, as long as they get what they want at the end of the day. John might seem like a decent dude, but I’d bet money that he’s no different.”

As Eddie said it, he knew there was a lot of his ego involved in trying to talk you out of it. It was his fault you lost the job as a gallery director—a job that you loved---and he wondered if he was being selfish in trying to keep you from whatever amount of money you could get from what’s his name. The last thing he wanted to do was push you away, and if anything could, it would be his jealousy. He was sure it had pushed people away in the past.

Eddie bowed his head, and you moved into his orbit, tugging his crossed arms down so he would lower them and let you in. “I’m fucking filthy, baby,” he said as you put your head to his chest and wrapped your arms around him. He placed his cheek on the top of your head. You nuzzled him, inhaling the scent of car exhaust and motor oil and the earthy soft undertones of his warm skin.

“Oh, god, don’t I know it,” you teased, pinching a handful of his ass.

He barked a low laugh despite himself and tightened his arms around you. “You make me this way.”

You swayed there together for a bit before he huffed out a heavy breath. “So, what time is your date?” He bit out the word ‘date’ so hard, his jaw clicked.

You pushed off of him, exasperated, and slightly offended. “Baby, it’s not a date. He doesn’t mean anything to me, it’s just like a…business thing. You know how much I love---”

But then the rest of it kind of choked in your throat, and you doubted yourself, and you clamped your mouth shut to keep any more from escaping. You didn’t doubt your feelings for him, but you doubted that blurting it out in that moment was the right thing to do.

Both of you were simultaneously paranoid that you’d scare the other one off by being too blunt about your feelings. Why? Because any time you had confessed your feelings to someone in the past, they either ruined your life or left you; there was no happy medium.

“Yeah? You love what?” Eddie waited, searching your face, interlacing his fingers with yours, anticipation burning in his chest.

You started to fidget under his intense gaze, shifting your attention around the room. “I-I love your stupid face.”

He squeezed your hand, and leaned in to press his lips flush against your ear, his warm breath making you shiver. “Ditto, babe.”

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Eddie was not smiling when you left the garage. You told him all of the details, including what time you were being picked up, the name of the restaurant (he rolled his eyes), and you told him you’d call the second you got home.

“Or, call me from the restaurant if he gets handsy or some stupid shit,” he added with a frown. “It would be my pleasure to go to jail for bouncing that clown into next week.”

You did all you could to comfort him, but at the end of the day, he was a grown man who needed to understand that you were excited for not only the money, but for the opportunity to be doing what you loved again. You felt like you’d lost your spark lately and you were anxious to get it back.

It was around 4 o’clock when you pulled up to the curb at the chocolate brown duplex with white trim that you shared with Katie. From behind the wheel, you spotted what looked like a big, flat white box with a string tied in a bow at the top. As you got closer, with your keys and bag in your hand, you realized there was a fancy note card on it addressed to you.

You put it on the island in the kitchen and started at it while your tongue slid across your teeth in contemplation. The store on the tag was from a French boutique in Chicago that you had never heard of in your life.

The inside of the card said: “I forgot to ask if you had something casual but elegant for tonight. See you at 7:00 -- J.”

Once you opened the lid of the box and pulled the tissue paper back, you let out a small gasp at the Dolce & Gabbana label staring you in the face. It was simple black dress with red lining, knee length but with a high slit up the leg, strapless, and there was a black choker and heels to match.

You hated to admit it, but perhaps Eddie’s read on John had been a tad on-the-nose.

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“Whoa there Julia Roberts,” Katie joked as you walked out to the living room at 6:45, trying to steady yourself on your new heels. “Is Richard Gere picking you up or what?”

Robin was there too and she spun around on the couch to whistle at you. “Good god, woman, Eddie should see you now. He’d blow a gasket.”

Under your breath you responded, “maybe, but not for the reason you’d think.”

Katie rested her hip on the back of the couch and combed her fingers through Robin’s hair as she raised her eyebrow at you. “Where are you going looking like a stick of dynamite? You look too nice for the Hammer.”

You opened your clutch to make sure you had the necessities. “I’m going to dinner with a potential client who wants to commission a painting,” you were withholding the bigger truth because you wanted to avoid getting into a discussion about it. “It’s not a big deal, I should be home in a few hours.”

Robin and Katie exchanged a look.

They did make sure to peak through the blinds when your ride arrived, though, and saw that it wasn’t just any old ride: it was a sleek, black Rolls-Royce, complete with chauffeur, and the man who got out to open the door for you was unarguably handsome and dapper. Salt n’ Pepper hair that was thick and a little wavy on top, tan skin, and what appeared to be an expensive, tailored suit. Once you had slipped into your seat behind the dark tinted windows, the man actually glanced up and caught the two girls watching, to which he gave a charming smile and a wave.

“THAT’S the client she’s going to dinner with?” Katie balked, realizing there was a lot you weren’t telling her. “He looks like Robert fucking Redford.”

“Oh, shit,” Robin whispered, her chin on Katie’s shoulder. “I think I know who that is. I can’t remember his name, but his face is always in the paper. Pretty sure he owns most of this town.”

You braced your hands on the smooth leather seat on either side of your hips as John found his place next to you and offered you a glass of champagne. “Or sparkling water, or gin, if you prefer?”

“Champagne sounds great,” you said with a quiver on your lips. You were too intimidated to admit you’d never been in a Rolls-Royce before, or any car worth its value.

He popped the cork and poured you a glass flute, his eyes covertly flashing to your legs as he worked. “I’m happy to see the dress fit. It looks like it was made for you.”

You cleared your throat as he passed your beverage over. “I’m nervous to spill on it. I think it costs more than my car.”

John smiled against the rim of his glass as he spoke. “If anything happens to it, we’ll just buy you another one,” he assured you with a wink.

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Around the same time you found the dress on your porch earlier that day, Steve picked up the phone at the shop after three rings, just before the machine was about to get it. He was in the middle of working on matching ankle tattoos for two sisters, and Oliver was at his special kid-sized plastic desk in the corner scrawling with crayons in a coloring book. Molly, the tattoo artist he rented a chair from was deeply absorbed in getting the lines in for a huge back piece on a client and she begged him to get it while Feel the Pain by Dinosaur Jr played in the background over the buzzing of a tattoo gun.

“Cutthroat Tattoo, this’s Steve,” his voice was a bit gruff, but he didn’t mean for it to be. It had been nonstop all day and the phone was ringing off the hook.

“You’re a hard man to track down,” the confident woman on the other end cooed. “Do you have a second? Is this a bad time?”

“Yeah, it is a bad time. Who’s this?” Steve frowned, running his thumb along the edge of the counter.

“I’m the one who bailed you out of jail,” she answered, with a hint of laughter in her voice.

Steve frowned even harder, walking further away from the customers so that he as at the corner of the desk against the wall. His mind was racing because he didn’t recognize the voice. Was it someone he fucked recently and forgot about? In that case, it was the least he could do to remember her name, but nothing was coming to him.

“Sweetheart, I’d love to thank you properly, but I still have no idea who you are,” he braced his hand high on the wall, his back muscles and tattoos visible under his thin wife beater. “Can I have a clue?”

She continued to ignore his question. “If you’re interested I might have a job for you. It pays well, and it will only be a couple hours out of your day.”

He dropped his hand from the wall and slipped it into his arm pit. “How much is ‘well’?”

She told him it would be a couple grand for a few hours, and he almost said yes before he even asked what the job even was.

“What’s the catch, baby?” He was still under the assumption that this was someone he had carnal knowledge of, and not a complete stranger. “Cause my days of being a high paid assassin are behind me.”

“Oh no, nothing like that,” she purred. “It’s just that I’m going to an event in a couple days and I need to hire a body guard to be my escort.”

Steve scoffed at the simplicity of what she was asking. “That’s all? Sweetheart, I’m your man.”

“I knew you were the right man for the job,” she praised.

“Hey,” he turned to give the woman in his chair a silent wink and thumbs up to let her know he’d be right there. “You still haven’t told me your name. I’m good with faces, darlin’, but voices? Not so much.”

“You can call me Char,” she told him, giving him her phone number. He took the cap off a pen with his teeth and ripped out a page from the phone book to write it down. “Give me a call when you’re done and we can work out the details.”

Char...Char...Steve’s mind raced with who that might be. But, damn all he could think of was how nice it would be to get his hands on that money. They’d been living paycheck to paycheck for a while now, and it would be nice to put a little extra in the bank so he could breathe for a fucking second. Body guard gigs were a piece of cake, and hell, if she wanted to pay him to have sex with her he might even agree to that as well, depending on what she was offering. Now, with Tina sniffing around again, he was on edge every second, and not sure if she really wanted to be in Oliver’s life, in which case he’d need to pay out the ass to hire a lawyer, or if she just wanted to squeeze his balls for more dough.

He couldn’t wait to brag to Eddie how mysterious women were stumbling over themselves to pay his bail and his bills.

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John made small talk with you as the driver, who was behind a black tinted partition, maneuvered the car up through the woods toward the lake. You passed a few MC members cruising along with the wind in their faces, and your heart stuck in your throat, hoping one of them were Eddie. Even Steve or Thumper would’ve been a welcome sight in that moment.

John was a gentleman, from what you could tell, and he was doing everything he could to make you comfortable, but you still felt terribly out of place; both in body and soul. To make matters worse, you were already missing Eddie. You realized that you could’ve gone to be with him that night instead, and the weight of your choice made your heart heavy. The song No Ordinary Love by Sade dripped softly from the speaker near your leg and it drowned out John’s voice for a few seconds as you thought about the beautiful, loving man you’d left waiting for you at home.

A magic, purple dusk exploded over the lake, between the trees as John came around to open your door and extend his hand for you to take.

“I don’t think I said it yet,” the side of his mouth lifted in a grin. He smelled like spices and expensive, Italian leather. “But you look absolutely stunning tonight.”

You rolled your shoulders and did the best to put all of your weight on the balls of your feet as you adjusted to the heels. He extended the crook of his arm to you and you took it, feeling like you were on some strange prom date.

Ahead of you was a walkway that led through a Japanese-style garden with a large Koi pond, on the way to a long, wide ranch-style building with gold lanterns dangling from the roof.

Sakura Black was known for it’s Japanese and Asian fusion cuisine. You’d only read about it in magazines, of course, and so it was a treat to see it all up close.

There was tight security from the time your chauffeur let you out at the curb to where you entered the building. A handful of muscular guys whose shoulders looked too big for their suit jackets, and whose necks were wider than their heads, talked to each other through ear pieces with dramatically serious faces, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think they were with the FBI or Secret Service. John didn’t even have to acknowledge them; they instantly ushered him through because they clearly recognized him.

You knew it was no secret that John was married, and you wondered what people thought your relationship was with him. Did they think you were one of his mistresses? Or was it a regular occurrence for him to bring young women there for dinner to talk over business deals? You honestly had no idea if you looked like a lucky girl or a fool to them.

Inside, the décor was warm tones and sharp edges; industrial design, with a pristine air of perfection and minimalism. You were a bit shocked when you realized that it made you miss the chaotic, clammy, nicotine saturated air of the Velvet Hammer.

The host with the wire rimmed glasses saw you and John coming, and got a bit flustered, before he stole himself for a proper greeting. “Your table is waiting, Mr. Gregson,” he extended his arm, encouraging you both to follow him down three steps to the main dining floor. There were solid windows along the back wall for a view of the lake at dusk, and the place was dimly lit, almost too dim for you to see if there were any celebrities in the crowd as you tried to scan around without moving your head. Soft murmuring voices heard over metal clinking on ceramic as waiters brought flaming dishes out on rolling carts.

John’s table was down close to one of the windows; there were two tealights burning in glass bubbles, and a bottle of red wine at the ready. You slipped free of John’s arm so that the host could pull your chair out for you, and you just so happened to move back two steps too many and you bumped into someone.

You both turned around at the same time to gush your apologies, and that was when you realized that the person you’d just smacked into was, in fact, the actor Richard Gere himself.

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Eddie was restless. He took a shower, and then nearly wore a hole in the floor from pacing.

He should’ve told you he didn’t want you to go. He should’ve told you...how he felt about you. God, was it too late? What if you realized that having an affair with with a rich dude was just what you needed? It would take away all of your stress, and you could stop working your ass off at the Velvet Hammer. It would help your art career, and you’d never have to worry about money. Surely, John Gregson was intelligent, well-spoken, successful—the type of man you deserved to be with. Since you met Eddie, your life had fallen into chaos and damn near poverty. In fact, the more he thought about it, what the hell did you even seen in him anyway?

He fully intended to wait by the phone until you called, but the minutes felt like hours, and he decided to take a ride over to Steve’s house for some company. Steve was still at the shop, but Robin had just arrived home after picking up Oliver, and it was a much needed distraction from his intrusive thoughts.

He read Oliver a bedtime story (it was coincidentally also one of his favorites: Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs) while Robin put away the dishes, and then the two adults had a beer out on the patio under dim yellow light where insects tapped and buzzed.

One sip and Robin sat up in her chair, regarding him with wide eyes. “Hold on, I almost forgot to tell you how hot your woman looked tonight. Wowza!”

Eddie’s beer paused halfway to his mouth and his smile dropped.

Robin licked her bottom teeth as she grinned, bending her knee to put her foot on the chair. “She was gorgeous, but also very sophisticated and elegant. Total show-stopper. You would’ve been on your knees.”

Eddie was gripping his beer can so tight, he crushed it a bit, forcing liquid to spurt out of the top.

“Yeah, how long ago was that?” Eddie asked in a mumble.

“How long was what? When I saw your girl? Um, maybe an hour ago. I left right after to pick Ollie up.”

Robin started talking about the whole mess with Tina, and a few minutes in, Eddie got to his feet. “I gotta go, Rob. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Thanks for the beer.”

“You have to go...right now? Seriously dude?” She balked. But Eddie was already grabbing his leather and taking long strides around the house to where he parked the chopper.

Robin sighed heavily into the mouth of her beer just before taking a few large gulps.

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Richard Gere reached out and put his palm on your elbow. “Are you okay? I didn’t meant to bulldoze into you like that.”

You were understandably speechless for a moment, mouth agape, as you looked from his face to the other people at his table. A part of you hoped to see Cindy Crawford there, but then you remembered they’d been divorced for a couple years. There were two other people with him: an older gentleman you did not recognize, and a woman who could’ve very well been a runway model.

You were about to speak when John came up behind you, resting his hand at your lower back. “Richard,” John greeted as they both shook hands. They knew each other? John introduced you. “This is that talented painter I was telling you about. I’m commissioning a piece for our lake house.”

Richard regarded you with invested interested. “A-ha, that’s right. I’d love to see your work. Do you have a card?”

“I don’t have one with me, but I---” you stammered, disbelief clouding your cognitive functions.

John’s hand made circles on your back as he spoke. “I’ll have my secretary send over her information tomorrow,” he told Richard.

Once the two of you were finally scooting into your table, John raised his eyebrow. “Richard’s a good friend, and an avid art collector. He loves finding new talent, that’s why I told him about you.”

Your heart raced as you put your napkin in your lap. Your seat faced the entrance where you’d just come in, and the side of Richard. He turned and winked at you as he put his hand onto the leg of the supermodel next to him.

The menu items didn’t have any prices on them, except for the wine list which had some going for hundreds of dollars. It made you gulp. You could probably live for a month on what these people were paying for one dinner.

“Is it okay if I order for you?” John asked, small, tortoise shell readers as the end of his nose. You were more than grateful for that suggestion, and he didn’t seem at all bothered when you said you were a vegetarian. Your waiter poured the wine, John started with appetizers, and the two of you proceeded to stick to the topic of business, and what he was hoping for in the artwork for his den.

It started to be less and less like a date and more like dinner with a friend, which made you feel a whole lot better about everything. You wondered what the story was between John and Charlene: how they met, how they fell in love, how they grew so far apart. There was probably someone there in the crowd who would see the two of you together and report back to Charlene. Would she even care?

Also, you really missed Eddie. You watched John hold his hands out in front of him, explaining a piece of art he bought while he was in Italy, with the romantic lake as a backdrop, and all you could think about was how you’d rather be kissing Eddie in the alley behind the Velvet Hammer, surrounded by the smell of rotting trash.

John expressly told the waiter to let the chef know which substitutions they required for your dietary needs, and he ordered another bottle of wine. You were watching him pour it when, several tables down, you spotted a waiter who you swore was your previous work colleague, Jeff. Just then, the guy with the golden blonde hair locked eyes with you at the same time and a wild look flashed across his face before he regained his composure and finished taking the order at the table he was at.

“Excuse me for just a moment?” You said to John as you got up from the table and placed your napkin on your seat. “I need to….” what was the phrase again? You couldn’t tell him you needed to use the toilet, that was vulgar. “...to go to the powder room. I’ll be right back.”

You made your way along the main floor and then up the steps, making eye contact with Jeff and motioning covertly for him to follow you. Jeff jerked his head, motioning you in the other direction, down between the bar and the kitchen. You both did good work of keeping your composure until you were hidden and out of ear shot.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jeff blurted, bouncing on the balls of his feet a bit.

“Um, I was about to ask you the same thing? Hello? You quit the gallery?” You exchanged a hug as you talked.

“Yeah, fuck that place,” Jeff adjusted the front of his shirt. “Besides you would not believe the celebrity sightings here. I’m gonna get swept off my feet soon.”

“Yeah no kidding,” you agreed in a whisper. “Richard Gere is basically sitting at our table.”

You were both speed-talking because neither one had much time.

“Who is that hot daddy you’re with?” Jeff asked.

“You’ll never believe it.”

“Try me?”

“It’s Charlene Gregson’s husband,” you said, exposing your lower teeth in a cringe.

Jeff made his mouth into an exaggerated “O” shape. “Girl, you have a lot of explaining to do. Why didn’t you call me?”

“Why didn’t you call ME?”

One of the other servers walked by and you hugged again, agreeing adamantly to meet up for cocktails as you wiggled fingers at each other to say farewell. You came up into the reception area, about to turn and make your way back down to the restaurant, when a deep voice made you freeze in your tracks.

“Hey.” It was Eddie.

---------

Eddie didn’t have a plan, he was just going. His hair flew in the wind, his hands twisting high up on the ape hanger handlebars, thundering along the winding mountain road like the devil was on his heels.

Sure, the restaurant you were at had tight security, but half of them were buddies of his. Plus, he wouldn’t have given a shit if he had to take them all on. In fact, bashing some heads in would’ve felt pretty fucking good in that moment.

He told Mick and Angus at the gate that he was there to cover for one of the guys, and they let him him right in; engine revving as the chopper crawled up the driveway and found a place right next to a red Ferrari. He ran his hand through his hair, rings clicking together as he swung his leg off the bike, adjusting his Coffin Kings leather cut over his plain white tee, exposing the tattoos from his neck to fingers. The black jeans he had on did not have holes in them but still—he was vastly under dressed for this crowd. God, he secretly hoped someone had the guts to try and throw him out; that would be fun.

He walked up to Rodney—a big dude with most of his dark hair in a buzz cut, but for the 5 inch long rat tail at the back---and offered him a smoke. Rodney had to wear his shirt buttoned at the collar and at his wrists to hide all of his tattoos. There were two other square-head dudes in suits positioned at the door, but Eddie didn’t know them.

He pointed his chin at the two in question, exhaling smoke. “Will I get any trouble from those two if I go in?”

Rodney wiped his nose with his thumb as his cheeks caved in for another drag. “Nah, they don’t mess with the Kings, man. They’re just gym bros. Say ‘boo’ and they’ll piss themselves.”

He made small talk for another minute or two, and then tossed his smoke when it was only halfway finished.

The two at the door moved immediately for Eddie, just as Rodney suggested they would. They even bowed their heads a bit, as if he were some type of mystical royalty.

The guy at the reception desk forgot to blink when he looked up at him, wondering if he should call the police or scream, but Eddie raised his hand with a partial smile, letting him know he didn’t want any trouble. “I’m just checking to see if someone is here,” he let him know. “It’s an emergency.”

“How about I check for you?” The guy in the wire-rimmed glasses asked nervously, shuffling papers. “Can I have a name?”

“No,” Eddie answered bluntly as he kept walking.

He stepped beyond a black partition to where he had a view of the lake windows and the people dining down below.

And then there you were.

Looking like a million bucks and then some. As confident as he’d been entering the building, now butterflies were exploding in his stomach and his face flushed with heat. If he didn’t know you, he’d be too nervous to even speak to you. You had always been way out of his league, but the way you looked that night really solidified the fact.

“Hey,” he said.

----------

“Eddie?” You stopped and looked around, not sure what was happening. “Baby, what are you doing here?”

You grabbed his hand and took him around the other side of the partition so that you weren’t right out in plain sight.

Eddie looked you up and down. “Did he buy you that dress?”

You only swallowed, and your silence said it all.

You took hold of his forearm, trying to meet his shifting gaze. “I promised you I’d call when I got home, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”

He’d rehearsed the words over and over on the ride there, but now they might as well have been a foreign language.

Eddie cast his gaze beyond you to all of the people eating their dinner as he shifted his jaw from side to side. “Did you tell him you have a boyfriend? Maybe I should introduce myself.”

“Baby, baby, baby, look at me,” you coaxed; one finger hooked in his belt loop and one guiding his face so that he’d look at you. His skin was hot, like he had a temperature. “I can’t do this with you right now. Please. You’re stressing me out. I’ll come by your place as soon as I’m done here, okay?”

Eddie knew he was blowing it. Internally, he tried that little meditation trick when you count back from ten or whatever the fuck, and he took a deep breath, but it didn’t help.

He kissed your forehead. “I’m sorry,” he sucked his plump bottom lip into his teeth, biting down. “You’re just...so beautiful.”

You rose up to kiss his lips, and then you squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll call you once I’m home, and then I’ll come over okay? I promise.”

Eddie nodded as you got further away from him, so far that you finally had to let go of his hand as your reach stretched to its limit. After you made your way down the couple of steps, you turned around to make eye contact with him again, but he was looking down.

Once you got back to the table, you stretched your neck up to check, and you didn’t see him standing in the same spot anymore, so you let out a relieved sigh. Your meals were on the table, and you apologized for taking so long. “I ran into a friend,” you told John.

After a bit more conversation and a couple bites of food, you glanced over to see that Jeff was shuffling his way over to your table. The smile he had pressed across his face was not reaching his eyes as he came up beside you and John.

He asked your name, as if he didn’t know it. “There is a...telephone call for you. Follow me please?”

You exchanged a look with John as you finished chewing your food and pushed your chair out. You excused yourself, again.

“Take your time,” John called to you as you followed behind Jeff.

Jeff did not take you to a telephone; he motioned for you to follow him around the other side of the bar, to a narrow hallway hidden behind a black velvet curtain. The sounds of the shouts and pans clinking in the kitchen were clear as day.

There was Eddie, waiting with his arms crossed. Jeff patted your hand as he left you there and walked away.

“Baby what...” your shoulders dropped, exasperated.

“Hold up, wait,” Eddie put his hand out. “I have something to say, and then you can go back to doing...whatever.”

You leaned against the door that said EXIT above it in orange letters. You really just wanted to get this dinner over so you could, indeed, be with Eddie again, but he was intent on dragging it out.

Eddie cast his gaze to the floor, hooking his thumbs into his front belt loops. “Listen, I know I don’t deserve you, okay?”

“Eddie---”

“Shhhh,” he whispered. “Let me finish.”

You blinked and nodded, trying to be patient.

“So, I know I don’t have a lot right now, but one day I will. I’ll be comfortable at least. I’m not going to be in that apartment over the garage forever. I’ve made investments, I have some plans,” his eyes flicked to yours only briefly. “I’ve got enough money saved right now, what if I commission a painting from you? I can pay you whatever this dickhead is offering.”

You opened your mouth to speak but then--

He put his hand at your waist, urging you closer. “I wanna be the one you come to, baby. I want to take care of you. I will, if you’ll just let me.”

You couldn’t look at him for some reason, tears pooled at your lash line, and a lump lodged in your throat, your lip quivering. You’d been taking care of yourself for so long, you hadn’t realized how nice it would sound for someone to offer such a thing

The tip of his tongue came out to wet his bottom lip, and he slid his hand up along the side of your face, urging your eyes to meet his. “All I wanna do is make you happy and keep you safe,” his thumb brushed across the side of your mouth. “You’re everything to me, baby. I just wanna know that you’re mine.”

“But I am yours,” your voice squeaked as you sniffed back pending tears.

“Yeah, well, there’s something else,” Eddie’s heart rate quickened. He stepped forward to close the distance between the two of you and touched his forehead to yours briefly.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” he continued, swallowing hard. Your wet eyes were possibly contagious because his chocolate eyes were glistening now too. “But I’m just so fucking in love with you that I don’t know what to do with myself. I feel like I’m---”

But then you smashed your lips to his, blinking tears down your cheeks, tasting the salt as it dripped down your lips and mingled with your shared saliva. Your hands wandered all over each other, begging for purchase, eager moans vibrating in your throats. His words and the sweet eagerness of the kiss threatened to make a mess of your underwear right there in the restaurant.

You blinked and sniffed as you met his eyes again. You were shaking your head, almost in disbelief at the circumstances. “I love you so much,” you admitted, relieved to say the words after they’d been living on your tongue for so long.

Eddie found your mouth again, clutching the back of your neck to pull you closer, speaking in between eager kisses. “You do? Say it again, baby. Tell me you love me.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you murmured against his lips as he wrapped his arms around and crushed you to him. The last I love you made a little laugh hitch in your throat at the absurdity of where this confession was taking place.

Eddie picked you up so that your feet were off the ground for a second, making you squeal, and then he searched your eyes, his pupils blown. “God, I want to be inside of you so bad right now,” he breathed.

You reached down to feel the outline of his cock grow stiff in his jeans, and you thought about telling John that there was an emergency and you had to split.

He rubbed his nose on yours and then took your wrist and flattened your palm over his heart. “You can finish your dinner, baby, I’ll wait for you in the parking lot, I don’t care how long it takes. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Part 12

------

@notsobubblybaby @eighty6babyyy @unfocused81 @aysheashea @truffleshuffle12 @manicmagicmayhem @etherealglimmer @dream-a-little-nightmare @rhirojo @ms1oftheboys @hellv1ra @emxcast @bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975 @lma1986 @secretdryrose @falling-solar-system @kurdtbean @whatwedontdointheshadows @miarosso @layla-loves-ed @lofaewrites @eddiemunson95 @seventhlevelofhell @stylesxmunson @chelebelletx @texasblues @michellecrusher

@dandelionnfluff @nope-thanks @kelsiegrin @eddiemunson95 @clincallyonline17 @lilpotatobean2 @hideoutside @tlclick73 @mmunson86 @sidthedollface2 @leilalaufeyson02 @tenthmoon @corrodedcoffincumslut

#eddiemunsonseries #eddiemunson #eddiemunsonfic #biker eddie munson #eddie my beloved #older!eddie #steve harrington #older eddie munson #i'm on fire #90s au #boyfriend eddie munson

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jupiter-letters · 3 months

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Dating Clark Kent would include:

Fem!Reader or GN!Reader TW: None

A/N: Felt like writing for clark lately, I'm down horrifically for this man. This can be for any incarnation of Superman but I based it off the comics and my adventures with superman

It all started with a random encounter at the library while he was researching an old historical site in Metropolis(aka busy work for the new guy). He saw you with a couple of books in your hand, eyes browsing the shelves.

He worked up the nerve to start a conversation with you and actually managed to get your number. He left the library with butterflies in his stomach and an angry call from Perry asking his whereabouts.

A good starter date for him was obviously coffee. He spends hours deciding where to meet up with you, trying to find reasonably priced coffee with a good atmosphere. He tries to come up with a bunch of different outfit combinations, making the attempt to look nice but not too dressed up. This proved difficult since his wardrobe is 90% dress shirts and slacks, he’s still gotta look casual. Clark is such an overthinker, he just wants things to go well ; v;

Of course the date goes well cause he’s so perfectly himself and he charms you so naturally. He’s surprised when you ask to see him again, the whole time he was sweating bullets praying you didn’t notice. After that the second, third, and fourth date all are perfect. Well not perfect but the time spent together makes up for the hiccups.

Now let’s get into the nitty-gritty: early days of dating Clark still tries to be perfect, he hasn’t become totally comfortable with you, yet ;) I think for him he wants to wow his partner in the early stages, he feels like trying to get a city slicker like you he has to bring his A-game.

When he sees you he tries to bring you little trinkets and flowers, he likes to spoil you every now and again.

Touching! He likes to be touching you when you’re near, a hand on your waist, brushing his pinky against your hand, pressing his knee next to yours when you’re sitting together. His love language is acts of service, words of affirmation and physical touch. He loves doing things for the people close to him. This includes: Taking out your trash, watering your plants, making your bed, putting a pot of coffee on in the morning, and fixing any holes in your clothes.

Now when you're really in it with him he tells you about the Superman stuff, he feels like he can trust you but there’s still the risk of you knowing that’ll get you hurt. He doesn’t underestimate your autonomy but there are very powerful forces out there that want him gone, and you are very precious to him.

Once you can convince him that you are willing to accept the risks and tell him how much you care about him, the last of the walls come down. You’re stuck with him forever now and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

When it’s a quiet summer afternoon he’ll take you flying just before sunset, he’ll go right above the clouds so you can see what he gets to see. However if you’re afraid of heights he won’t force you lol. He’ll make sure you’re properly dressed when he takes you to visit the fortress of solitude(He tries is the key phrase). You always underestimate how cold it’ll be and he has to go all the way back to metropolis to get your favorite jacket while you sit by a heater.

Looking after him when he gets kryptonite poisoning from fighting bitch ass Lex Luthor, seeing him sweat for the first time with dark circles under his eyes. It’s more painful than what he’s feeling at that moment, and he still tries to tell you it’s not that bad. Once he’s feeling better he has to talk you down from murdering Luthor.

“Honey don’t-” “Nuh-uh call Bruce, I want a bazooka.” “You don’t need a bazooka sweetheart, I'm fine.” “No way I’m coming for his bald ass.” “Baby I’m fine, please calm down.”

Of course you’re not serious but you still want to protect him. Nobody messes with Clark and gets away with it. You and his friends will see to that, yes sir!

Thanks for reading! Lemme know what you think. Please like or reblog if you like my stuff.

#clark kent x reader #kal el #superman x reader #maws x reader #dcau x reader #dc x reader #reader insert #~⋆｡°tales from the dreaming #my adventures with superman x reader

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mncxbe · 5 months

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Hiiii i hope you have a great day! I love your blog 🥰 been living my best y/n days lately hahaha

If you don't mind, may i request for chuuya with reader who is a photographer. One day the reader scouted him on the street, not knowing about him at all, just mesmerized by his appearance. So I'm wondering about how Chuuya would be someone's muse. Definitely got inspired by your chuuya x painter!reader one haha.

Thank you so much ^^

Ps: can be sfw or nswf up to your imagination; please feel free to ignore this request if you don't feel like doing it^^

omg anonnie this!!! chuuya's got such model vibes I cannot even he could make it to the high fashion. also tysm I'm so happy I can make your Y/N dreams come true♡♡

it's a normal thursday afternoon and chuuya's walking down the streets of Yokohama, idly scrolling on his phone when you randomly stop him and ask if he's interested in having a few pictures taken. at first, he's a bit confused and suspicious but after you tell him you're a photographer and really love his style, he agrees. after all, a few pictures can't hurt.

the two of you walk to a neraby park. getting everything in place; you tell him how to pose and all and soon enough you manage to take a few good shots.

when you show him the photos chuuya's quite taken aback. he didn't expect them to turn this good: his scarlet hair paired perfectly with the yellowing autumn leaves in the background and the warm sunlight~ engulfing him in a veil of gold. it is mesmerizing. he simply stares at the little screen of your camera, mouth agape and you can't help but chuckle.

"there's just something about you, a certain energy you give off. i'd love to work with you more, if you're interested" you propose, giving him that sweet smile of yours.

and of course he's interested. how could he say no when he has the chance to work with someone so talented?

over the next months chuuya visits your studio from time to time. due to his busy schedule, your photoshoots are quite rare but still the highlight of your week. you both enjoy working together; you are calm and collected, don't pry too much into his personal life and he's receptive, always eager to try any new ideas you might have, your perfect muse.

and oh, how many ideas you have. for those blissful couple of hours in your studio chuuya can forget about his life and become something else; a black and white 90s supermodel, a pop of colour on a white background, an angel in the garden of Eden, whatever you want him to be. with each outfit you make him try on he turns into something else, something of your making and he loves that.

despite your constant pleas he refuses to let you use his picture for exhibitions or contests; after all, his identity needs to be kept secret. so instead you hang them around your studio~ little 3:2 pictures adorning your walls, lined up like celluloid scenes in an old picture movie.

with each evening you spend together chuuya finds himself falling more and more in love with you. it's not only the way you walk around the studio with your camera hanging around hour neck, gently biting down on your lower lip as you try to find the perfect angle for a shoot or how you always offer him a glass of his favourite wine when he comes over; you're his own form of escapism. you're funny and sweet and creative and see him for everything that he is and could be, not as a mere criminal working for the Port Mafia. he can talk to you for hours without getting bored too, which is something new.

things progress and one evening, after an especially tiring day at work and a few glasses of wine, chuuya finds himself entangled with you on the plush couch in your studio; worshipping every inch of your body just like you do with his on camera. it's heated and messy and he loves it so much he just can't get enough. and neither can you.

from then on, you two meet for reasons unrelated to work too; he drops by to bring you little gifts or flowers as a sign of gratitude, takes you out to dinner, visits art galleries with you and takes you on weekend get-aways. and so your muse becomes your friend and your lover. your one and only.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #chuuya fluff #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya

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stop-talking · 2 months

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Working on the last chapter of a Mike fanfic, so in the meantime:

Mike Schmidt Headcannons

☆ He listens to total loser music. (Weezer, Everclear, Radiohead, Green day. Mostly 90s stuff.)

☆ ABSOLUTELY had an emo phase where he tried to be "punk" but just ended up looking sad. Refuses to talk about it now.

☆ Uses silly made-up curses when he's around Abby. "Aw, shucks!" kind of guy.

☆ 3-in-1 shanpoo/conditioner/bodywash (and still smells clean somehow.)

☆ Likes simple chores like folding laundry. He finds it relaxing. Malewife energy

☆ Once brought a girl over and struggled to explain the goddamn NEBRASKA poster on his ceiling. He stopped trying with women after that.

☆ Used to get really defensive when people mistook him for Abby's dad, doesn't really care anymore. Accepts it.

☆ Hasn't bought himself new clothes in years. Abby gets a new outfit every Christmas & birthday, and at the start of a new school year. Usually secondhand.

☆ When he doesn't respond immediately in conversation, there's a 99% chance it's because he's insulting you in his head.

☆ Made no effort to reach out to any of his old coworkers after losing his mall job. Self-isolating.

☆ DEFINETLY develops trust issues after the end of the movie, if he didn't have them already.

☆ Surprisingly good cook, when Abby first started eating less his first thought was "damn my food must suck" so he bought a cookbook.

☆ LOVES his recliner. He would sleep there if he hadn't already made a routine of torturing himself with the memory of his brother's disappearance every night.

☆ Pet names. Pet names. Pet names. Call him baby and he melts.

☆ Absolutely DREADING the day Abby gets her first period. He's terrified he'll explain things wrong; plans to eventually get Aunt Jane to talk to her about it.

Throwing in a few NSFW headcannons (18+)

☆ Absolutely a switch. He's a bit socially awkward, yeah, but once he's comfortable with you he has no problem taking the lead.

☆ (but also you can easily make him whimper and beg.)

☆ he's a munch. end of story.

☆ Tits > ass. Not always even sexually, he just likes to lay his head down on a nice pair of tits and rest.

☆ Absolutely REFUSES to fuck without a condom, even if you're on birth control. The few times he's either lost control of himself or been convinced to try cumming inside, he nearly had panic attacks. (Because he knows if he DID get a girl pregnant there's no way he'd abandon her or the baby.)

That's all I got, what about y'all?

#mikeschmidt #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson #jhutch #fnaf movie #fnafmovie #headcanon #mike schmidt headcanons #micheal schmidt

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ach-sss-no · 10 months

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I feel weird giving out unprompted permission statements because I'm making a big assumption that anyone's going to want to use my work. That said I also know people do like to build on other people's art and can't always work up the nerve to ask, so: Anyone is free to use this design if they want to for any reason- I don't own this character anyway. (Although I am hopeful that you do not, you know, monetize it, because i cant do that and if you do that its not fair ;_; ) Feel free to remix, improve, use as basic inspiration, etc. I would appreciate a tag/mention if you use it so I can see what you did!

This design has evolved a little since I first started drawing it, and I will see people reblogging the original design notes and think 'oh no! those are out of date and I don't have new/accurate ones!'

Reblogging the old one is still an honor- and the first take on a design just sometimes has a different appeal because it's less refined and more chaotic (especially with a character that should be chaotic), so I suspect some people will just prefer the older drawings & they'll still get shared, which is great! But I felt as if the project was a little bit incomplete without an update, since I think I've reached the point where if you see that old post & then come to my blog and look at my current content, there's a noticeable difference.

Also I kind of like making design notes.

If anyone's wondering why things changed, the answer's really simple- 90% of it is just the result of him settling into having more consistent anatomy and facial structure so that I can keep him looking accurate across different angles and poses. If you look at the old drawings you may notice that Gollum has an inconsistently shaped squishy head. That's fine for a concept post but doesn't work as well for maintaining him across different comic panels or in an animatic, at least not the way I work.

In the same vein, while my art is still & will always be heavily stylized, I started giving him more structured semi-sorta-realistic anatomy so that he wouldn't look entirely out of place next to less bizarre-looking characters such as Aragorn. (I feel that's also helpful in nudging Gollum into the uncanny valley where he ought to be, rather than leaving him so abstractified that there's a risk you won't see anything wrong with him having noodle arms.) He also acquired the new-style 'garbage bag' outfit because I found a reference in LOTR to his arms and legs being bare/exposed (it's in one of my favorite passages, the 'an eagle would think Gollum was dead if it came by right now' passage in The Two Towers):

Not even an eagle poised against the sun would have marked the hobbits sitting there, under the weight of doom, silent, not moving, shrouded in their thin grey cloaks. For a moment he might have paused to consider Gollum, a tiny figure sprawling on the ground: there perhaps lay the famished skeleton of some child of Men, its ragged garment still clinging to it, its long arms and legs almost bone-white and bone-thin: no flesh worth a peck.

#long post #blobart #lotr #lotr gollum #lotr fan redesign #i really do love that passage because it says so much and implies more #sam and frodo are sitting there invisible because they are being protected by the gift of love and honor galadriel gave them #gollum who has been busting his butt to hide all of his life #issplatted out there like a frog entirely exposed. he has nowhere to hide and no protection- not even proper clothing #and even a carrion bird would think he was 1) dead 2) of no value #...and then we have tolkien drawing the allusion to a starved/abandoned child #it's eerie and deeply empathetic at the same time #It's also funny. why would there be an eagle here pondering gollum #same energy as 'a fox wondered why these hobbits were bobbling around in the woods' and then the fox disappears forever #also same energy as 'there was a thrush nearby. bilbo was in such a bad mood that he tried to kill it'#body horror #eye horror #unsanitary/#bones?....#tw: gollum #there #I will be doing a morning reblog of this because i only do this once every two years so postblock it if once was enough

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liyawritesss · 10 months

Text

ᴄᴏʟʟᴇɢᴇ!ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ ᴍᴏʀᴀʟᴇꜱ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

Characters: College!Spider-Verse!Miles Morales

Type: headcanons

Synopsis: What would our lovely boy Miles be like as a grown up college student? Does he change or does he still keep his dorky, boyish demeanor?

A/N: HAPPY JUNETEENTH TO MY FELLOW NEGROS!!! In honor of Juneteenth and the release of ATSV, I'm dumping some headanons on yall, and I'm so proud of how these turned out. I was talking with my friend how we heavily believed that we would see a grown up Miles but when we found out only a year passed in Miles’ timeline for him, the topic of college!Miles came up. So these headcanons are pretty much a product of how we thought miles would be as a college student around our age.

Note: the first pic is of Shameik Moore, I just used a cartoon filter over it to try and make it look like the art style in the spiderverse franchise. The third one is not Shameik Moore but I use the same cartoon filter over it for the same effect

Warnings: Some cursing but that’s about it. KEEP IT CUTE PG-16 CUZ THIS IS NEPHEW WE TALKIN' BOUT HERE!!!

Tags: @6-noir @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @jacuzziwaters @venusdraco @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @lulu-network @niyahwrites @pantherheart @marsfunzon22

College!Miles isn’t a complete one-eighty of his mid-teen self, but rather, he builds on the defining attributes of his youth and matures them. He’s still pretty self-effacing, modest and humble, but he’s more confident in himself and the man he wants to become. He’s selfless and courageous and loving to a fault, and anyone who’s anyone who has been in his presence can say that Miles is a great person all around.

College!Miles ends up going to study in New Jersey, majoring in Physics Engineering, but also minoring in African Psychology on the track for social work. He knows that he can only do so much good behind his Spiderman mask, and believes that he should also be putting in the work when he isn’t wearing it. It’s an obligation for him to put his best food forward for his community and his people.

College!Miles who mixes his style with 90’s black streetwear and modern day. He’s a sneakerhead, so his dorm room gradually accumulates with boxes upon boxes of shoes damn near reaching the ceiling. His room back home is much worse though (Rio can’t even clean his room anymore because everywhere she looks, it’s a box of shoes chucked somewhere. Mama has given up lmao). And similar to the first outfit we see him in in ATSV, he loves the sports-jersey-over-solid-color-shirt combo, but has a decent amount of hoodies and tee’s both graphic and plain, that he likes to throw on with a pair of jeans and shoes. He knows how to dress, and he knows that he looks good in what he wears too.

College!Miles who never steps out the house without a chain on. He’s got two specific ones that he wears primarily - a silver cuban link his parents got him for his eighteenth birthday that he wears daily, and a gold snake chain that he bought for himself with his first check from his first big boy job. There are other necklaces that he has that he’ll throw on it he wants to switch things up. He’s not a big fan of things on his wrist (he’s gotten too used to the web shooters that everything else just feels funny or wrong), but he has a watch that he only wears to be fancy and a couple of rings that go on his middle or forefingers. He also has a few pairs of studded earrings he switches between every now and then to keep up a fresh look.

College!Miles who starts to take special care in his appearance as he reaches his late teen years. He can only go to his mom when he’s on breaks or vacation when he travels back to Brooklyn, but he’s learned enough from Rio to do his own line-ups and touch ups to make him look decent. It took him a minute to get used to doing it on his own, but he was adamant on learning because he was firm on not letting anyone else into his head besides his mother. He’d recently gotten into cutting slits into his eyebrows too, as they make him feel super cool

College!Miles who knows he’s got girls & guys coming left and right waiting for the opportunity to get with him, but as much as he’s a loverboy, he’s also very intentional with how he moves and is very perceptive of people (his Spidey senses enhance it a lot more than what he wishes sometimes) that he peeps that a lot of them are only attracted to his looks. He doesn’t date for the first few semesters of college, and when his parents ask if he’s gonna bring someone home soon, he tells them that he’s too busy making gateways to dimensions to open the gateways to dating

College!Miles whose love for hip hop never dies over the years. Instead it seems to grow. He adds a few new artists to her playlist - JID, Young M.A., Tobe Nwigwe, & Kendrick Lamar from the hip hop and rap scenes (Miles uses many of Tobe’s songs as hype music to gas himself up). Though he’s also found an appreciation for other genres, like R&B and Neo-Soul. Some of these artists include but are not limited to: H.E.R., UMI, Ari Lennox, and Bryson Tiller.

College!Miles who still holds on to his art as a hobby and destresser from his many classes and double-identity. His street art follows him wherever he goes, tagging new places that have people wondering who the hell made it all the way up there to tag that. There’s a secret pride that swells in him when he sees passersby admiring the artwork.

College!Miles who, when the world gets too much and he feels like everythings going wrong, he climbs the tallest building he can find and just watches the sunrise or sunset. He lets the breathtaking view ease his mind and the warm sun soothe his worries away. Being so high up and away from people allows him to actually think about the troubles that plague him, so when he comes back down, he can address them accordingly

College!Miles who’s still very much a momma’s boy. He calls Rio almost every day, either to just talk or to rant about something silly. She’ll put him on speaker for Jefferson to hear and just looks at her husband like “Listen to your son” when he’s being silly. But it’s so sweet that Miles always has his parents on his mind when he’s away at school. He also calls his dad to have ‘guy talk’, which ain’t nothing but Miles and Jefferson either talking about sports, his academics (which Jeff is really supportive of, even if he doesn’t understand the physics part, he loves to hear his sons ideas on the psychology minor he’s taken on) or random funny shit the guys that they hang around do every day.

College!Miles who grows more confident in his Spanish and uses it more and more in his day-to-day life. He’ll speak it when he’s talking to himself, when he’s angry or if he’s hurt himself (which happens the same amount of times as it did when he was a teen), or he’ll try and surprise his mom with a conversation in complete Spanish (which he does succeed in sometimes).

College!Miles who’s barely changed from the loveable boy who we all know and love as a teen. He just grew some more and became cooler, but he still radiates the same dorky, intelligent, and loving energy he’s always had.

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thegreatstoryteller · 1 year

Text

The Great Shift: Reunion

The Great Shift is a well known event that had swapped over 90% of the world’s population! However, after the initial fallout and chaos, a few years later people began to acclimate to their lives. Though there were still moments where people were confronted with just how much they’ve changed.

“Ok Ned Nuno. No one is gonna remember you as Ned the know it all. It’s been years. People are mature and have their own lives.” Ned said to himself in the mirror.

The young man looked back at his model like reflection. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe it was him. Only a few years ago he was looking at his own bespectacled face with his receding hairline. Sure he’s what some would call cute and charming. He always had a knack for intelligent conversation. After college he embraced his intelligence even more and had the luxury to travel as he got older... but he couldn’t deny that his former body wasn’t turning any heads romantically. They’d haver to notice the 5 foot tall waifish man for that to happen.

But now... that was no longer the case. All those years ago he was traveling at an airport when the Great Shift happened. One moment he was departing his plane, the next he was in a boarding area waiting to be seated!

Needless to say it was a shock. He’d gone from a smaller and dark skinned to a clearly white and very in shape young man! He later found that this guy was named Connor Duval and was just 21 years old at the time! Still in college too. And... well those first few days he certainly had a lot to learn about his new form.

However he couldn’t reminisce any further. He needed to get ready for his school’s 10 year reunion. He wasn’t the same timid nerd that people would pick on. He was braver! He’d seen the world! And wasn’t afraid!

- One ride to the school later -

“Ok. I’m afraid! Jackie! Are you here yet? I know this is the 2nd message I left for you on your phone, but I don’t want to be the only one here I know! You were always my best friend and I’m sorry I’m so nervous and-” Ned was pacing nervously outside of the building he once learned at, waiting to go in with his friend.

“Easy there poindexter. Your bestie is back.” A deep voice says spooking Ned as he jumps.

“J-Jackie?” Ned asks nervously seeing the towering muscular figure beside him.

“In the flesh. I though I told you that I shifted into that big Ukrainian construction worker? I mean all the better for it right? None of your old bullies ever messed with you when you butch lesbian bestie was at your side.” Jackie said with a flex.

“I know. I know. You were always so open and brave with yourself It’s honestly inspiring. I’m sorry i was so shocked. I’m just nervous and it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other. I hope your girlfriend is taking it ok.” Ned offers sympathetically.

“Yeah she loves it. She swapped into this bi goddess of a woman and works out with me a lot. Good thing too! I’m still only attracted to women and I have the best one sucking me off every night!” Jackie bragged. Previously her normal crude humor always let out a laugh from Ned, but now Ned trembled a bit as Jackie sounded just like those macho straight guys that bullied him.

“Aren’t you a little under dressed without um... a shirt?” Ned asks.

“Ha! Well you know. I thought about going nude. But I did pack a polo so i can be decent. Aren’t you over dressed Ned?”

“What!? I couldn’t decide what to wear! I just chose one of my body’s outfits that still fits...” Ned blushes in his nice suit. Sure he was a 6 foot tall model with abs, but his indecision in outfits was ever present.

“Neverminded that anymore. Let’s get in there! You’re a tenured professor for Pete’s sake. And I’m a well known LGBT author. We got a lot to talk about.”

Jackie pulled Ned in with his surprising strength and they began to hear the music and mingling. Inside they were given name tags and soon saw the crowds of people that none of them recognized! One of the perks of the shift was that no one was ever mad when they didn’t recognize one another. In this case though Jackie and Ned’s eyes zeroed in on a few key people.

Stacy Skarsgaard was always known as the head cheerleader and total B. Her platinum blond hair and perky breasts getting her through life and landing her a cushy secretary job somewhere in the city, from what Jackie had heard. Now once again, as she was so many other times, she was blasted drunk and taking her top off. Only this time it revealed a powerful dark skinned chest with curly black hairs. Her perfectly shaved face saying, “And like. I”m already on my 4th husband and he totally worships me. Takes care of the kids and still tops me like a champ. Like. I totally see why gay guys do it all the time. I can’t stop. Any more martinis?”

Jackie snorts. “Where was that open mindedness when she tried to get student council to take down the LGBT Support Club? Freaking hypocrite. Their eyes then drifted to three men chest bumping and laughing.

“Are those guys Chad, Thad, and Grad?” Ned asks surprised. “Weren’t they... like the biggest guys on the football team?” Ned recalled the days when those beefy fat bodies would pound through the halls and shove him against lockers.

“Oh yeah. I heard they were working as assistant coaches at some college and ended up swapping with their respective school’s freshman swim team. They... certainly lost a lot of that freshmen 15 that we saw them with in university.” Jackie laughed admiring how they both towered over their former bullies, though Ned once again felt insecure about how much their abs looked better than his. Those three guys kept messing around but in different ways. Instead of belching and arm wrestling they were doing some handstands and showing how flexible they were.

“Ok. Ned. Stop sulking and start catching up. You wanted to prove to yourself you could stand up to your past. Now is your chance. Next person to walk through that door is gonna be a new person you have to say Hi to ok?” Jackie commanded.

Ned gulped and looked at the door nervously and was in awe of who stepped in.

“Paul Bailey?” Ned said astonished. He’d recognize that familiar leather jacket anywhere.... he could still smell it as the closeted athlete wrapped his arms around him all those years ago under the bleachers after a big game. Neither have them had mentioned the night since, but that hadn’t stopped Ned from cherishing that memory.... as well as stalking him occasionally on social media seeing who he swapped with.

Ned hadn’t realized he’d been staring that long as Paul immediately saw him and walked over. “Holy... Ned? Is that you. Wow you sure changed.” The man joked. His voice was different... but still so deep and smooth Ned nearly swooned.

“H-hey Paul. Guess we all have since the switch. You’re um... looking good.” Ned admitted, blushing. He missed his previous heritage that made these embarrassing actions less noticeable with his former darker skin.

“Thanks. I guess I traded in my older pasty body for a new more bronze kind. I wasn’t expecting to swap with an Asian bodybuilder, but hey I was at the airport. Right or wrong place depending who you ask for the shift.”

“Really? I was at the airport too when I shifted. It was kinda funny. I’d been traveling a lot since I got tenure as a professor, but the first thing I did when I shifted was trip. I guess no amount of travelling prepares you for suddenly having size 14 feet.” Ned laughs.

“Really? They do look big... dang. Those are like twice the size of your old ones.” Paul laughs too!

“Y-you remembered me that well?” The nerd felt touched.

“Of course,” Paul replied as it was his turn to blush. “Though hey! I got you beat with these size 17 wide feet. With these heavy muscle I nearly took out an entire cart of luggage.”

The two continued to laugh, comparing bodies, stories, and catching up. Jackie suddenly took her leave to be ogled by all of the female attendants.

Ned and Paul were having a great time walking around, having fun, and enjoying each other’s company.

Ned didn’t know that their bodies had met previously. That Connor was on the way to visit his boyfriend at the time... that miles away their original bodies were holding hands and laughing too... Ned couldn’t know that Paul had also been secretly keeping up with Ned after feeling bad about kissing and never calling...

But there are some things a know it all doesn’t know. Maybe it’ll be fun for him to start learning again. This time with someone both old/new.

#body swap #thegreatshift #The Great Shift #Great Shift #thegreatstoryteller #race change #racial change #height change #gender change #female to male

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luci4theminorannoyance · 4 months

Note

(Ugh I feel like I’m blowing up your inbox but my brain is overheating with all these ideassss)

what about 141 with a reader who’s a dancer? (Maybe ballet?) I just feel like price would be spoiling them with new ballet shoes and dance outfits and Flowers after every show!! (< this could also apply to other characters!)

— 🪐

a/n: sure!! I didn’t get this one done for a bit so sorry!

Price:

-has single handedly forced all of 141 to come to your recitals before and personally donates to your dance company and for your dance gear

-it still confuses him how you can do all those tricks, he’s strong of course; but not in that way

-brags about you all the time to the point people think your a celebrity crush instead of his partner

gaz:

-he took dance in middle school so sometimes he likes to tease you by doing moves (very basic ones of course but still)

-loves seeing you happy at any event so he of course has tickets for like everything your in or you like

-his poor instagram posts are like 90 precent you doing dance

soap:

-adores just watching you practice, wide eyed and zoned out just enjoying watching you do something you like

-just lets you use his credit card for dance stuff. It’s always worth it to see you, plus it’s not like he’d know what to get you

-when he’s gone on mission he’ll try to explain it to ghost or gaz by doing the moves but really badly

-golden retriever boyfriend to the max

roach:

-literally the best for ballet. He’s adored it since he was little since in ballet you don’t need to talk to tell a story. But he never took it because as a kid he had other things to do

-loves silently sitting and watching your performances, or sometimes signing little messages to you while your preforming, knowing you can’t respond but that you most likely saw it

ghost:

-whenever he’s off his missions or work in general he always gets the best seats to just sit down and watch you do your favorite hobby/job

-doesn’t brag as much as the rest of 141 would, but did learn an awful lot of ballet dad jokes to tell around you or around his team even if it’s just a simple one

-the only thing he hates about ballet or dance is how uncomfortable those tights look, always gives him the ek when he thinks about himself in them

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harrieatthemet · 1 year

Text

Vulnerable

in which Harry’s sensitive and you’re completely undressed.

He’d prefer if you stayed.

It’s his ideal perception of comfort; the warmth oozing from the usually unoccupied side of his bed, a faded essence of vanilla perfume tied in with a bit of rose oil shampoo, the amenity of another body lethargically intertwined with his.

Bouncing back and forth between one place to another, one city to the next; it’s inconsistent. And for a while, inconsistency worked. He had nestled himself comfortably into the odd routine of inconsistency. That’s what the bulk of his foundation in larger areas of life was built off of, and you were no exception.

“Casual,” and he used the word exactly months ago, “let’s keep it casual.”

He knows what happens when he puts his hand to the flame; he gets burned. He’s learned that lesson the hard way once. And again after that, and once or twice more after that. Casual meant there wasn’t any real need for consistency. Keeping a relationship with you as casual as possible seemed like the best fit; one that made sense.

At least, back then it did. All that coming and going, late night text messages, sporadic sleepovers after over indulging on wine and really shitty romantic comedies, it became consistent. 2 minute phone calls every now and then turned into one, sometimes two hours at least once a day. He’s caught himself checking his phone so that he doesn’t miss a text. He’s not used to consistent. This, however, is the type of consistency he’s becoming quite fond of.

“5 more minutes,” he’s barely gotten his eyes open but his hands are awake, pulling you a little closer to him, “s’all we need, yeah? Just 5.. maybe 10.”

There’s a content flutter purring in his chest when you hum in response, your body readjusting as he slinks an arm over your waist. He’s not ready to draw the blinds yet. There’s a straggling strip of outside light that's fighting it’s way through the gap in the drapes. It’s got to be well into the afternoon by now, but he doesn’t wanna check his phone to confirm. Instead he just pulls you closer; he’d rather stay here, like this, instead.

“Mm,” the scruff from his chin brushes up against the back of your neck when you hum, “I wish I could.”

“Don’t wish,” he giggles, “just do.”

He frowns when he feels you peel your body away, a small gust of cool air hitting his bare stomach when you tussle the sheets off and sit up. And he watches forlornly from his spot; admiring the way he his shirt hangs on you.

“I can’t,” you’re whine is playful as you snatch your pants up from the floor, “I’ve got a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Mhm,” you assure, “a date thing.”

It’s like a punch to the gut. The words coming out of your mouth put a bad taste in his. He doesn’t even wanna talk about it beyond this point. Ignorance really is bliss, but the curiosity will eat away at him if he doesn’t try to dig a little deeper.

“Been seein’ him long?” He’s glad your back is to him because you can’t see the worry in his face.

“Oh yeah,” that’s one more punch to the gut; he was hoping you’d say no, “we’re getting married on our date tonight.”

“What??”

“Harry,” your laugh is muffled as you tug your shirt over your head, “m’fucking with you.”

His shoulders drop a bit before he sits up in the bed. Watching you get dressed has always been one of those things he enjoyed; teasing you about outfit choices, making remarks about how he should take it all off again. 90% of the time he actually does end up taking everything off again. But this time just fucking sucks. You’re not getting dressed to go back to your place; you’re getting dressed to go back to someone else’s place. At least, that’s where his mind is taking him.

You’ve still got him all over you; a little bit surely still lingering inside of you. This no-named competitor might get to touch you like he did just minutes ago. He wonders if he knows all your best spots, whisper in your ear, hold you while you sleep. Is he gonna kiss you the way you like, run fingers down your spine until you hum in content. Can this guy please you like he can? Does he know that the the little indent above your right knee is from when you fell off your bike as a kid? Does he know you sleep with two pillows and not one? You can’t sleep with one pillow; Harry always keeps an extra one freshly fluffed for you when you spend the night. Which, evidently enough, has become more frequent than not.

“So deep in thought, eh?” You tease, “What’s going on up there?”

He smirks briefly when you extend your pointer finger towards his head, swirling it around as though you’re mimicking his jumbled thoughts. He’s got no right to pry. After all, the groundwork of the terms regarding the dynamic between the two of you were his idea. God is he regretting that now. The idea of another man knowing you at all makes his stomach hurt, let alone knowing you the way he does.

“Oh m’not,” he shrugs, idle hands twirling the loose sheet on his bed, “s’nothing.”

“Going once.. going twice.. give me something, Har.”

With your hands on your hips; expression playful, eyebrow cocked and breath baited in anticipation, he’s realizing that now might be better than ever to speak up. The answer to every unasked question is no, after all.

His mind is racing with the worst of thoughts. He doesn’t want you to leave at all. Especially if you leave now to meet with the embrace of any other man except him. It’s not a possessive thing. Part of what makes him so feral and drawn to you is how open and genuine you are with the everyone you know.

“This guy,” he trails, “I mean- like is this a date?”

“You writing a book or something?” You chuckle.

“No.”

He knows that was a joke. It wasn’t his intention to answer so seriously and he wishes so badly he could take that knee jerk reaction back. The look on your face falls and so does his heart; right into his fucking stomach. The energy of the once playful banter is ripped right out from beneath the both of you and now it’s just uncomfortable.

“Yeah..” Your tone wanders as you look for your socks, “3rd one, I’m pretty sure. Why?”

There’s about an infinite amount of ways he could match that question. One of them being just high pitched screaming from frustration. Not even with any words, just endless agonizing groaning on a loop. Christ, the thought of it all just makes him want to melt into the mattress and become nothing. In theory he should’ve just kept his mouth shut and suffered in silence while he waited for the next time you texted or called. But he’s dug himself so deep playing 50 questions with you that there’s no point in retreating. He’s doubling down now; all or nothing.

“Know him well?” He spits out.

“Well enough.. still getting to know him a bit.”

“S’good,” he feels it coming, the word vomit and he just can’t stop it from pooling on his tongue, “knows you like I know you?”

If he was religious he’d start praying to God, any one of them, that you answer with a firm no. How could anyone know you like Harry knows you? He’s convinced that it isn’t possible. This morning, when he was wrapped up with you in a fresh set of linens sheets, he’d be so sure that nobody else had intimate access to you like he does; sexually and emotionally. Right now though, he’s starting to do something he seldom does; second guess himself. Maybe he was naive to be so sure before.

“Not gonna put all my cards on the table just yet,” oh how badly he feels like dying when you talk all confused like that at him, “but yeah. I mean, I guess.”

You think of how silly that question is. Why would he ask that? Everyone you know gets the same version of you; honest, open, and real easy going. You’re an open book and your relationships are all reflective of that. You are who you are, proudly and comfortably. So yes, of course he does.

And all he’s thinking is how desperately he wants to rewind to 15 minutes ago when he wasn't the only naked person in the room. He just wants you to get back in bed; stay with him a little bit until he feels like the only one again. Turmoil and anger coincide with one another as it bubbles in his stomach, metastasizing before it becomes so unavoidable that he can feel it in the pit of his throat.

“Hm,” the sarcasm and bitterness in his tone is so goddamn thick, “lucky him than, yeah? Have fun, m’s real happy fo’ you.”

“Ok...” and he can tell by your voice that you’re offended, “I’d say thank you but that felt more like an insult.”

Your jeans still aren’t buttoned and now that you’ve slid your shirt back on, he notices that your arms are folded over your chest as well. He doesn’t like the look on your face. It’s like you’re accusing him of something. And he really doesn’t like that the shirt you slept in, his shirt, is in a ball at the foot of his bed.

“Can take it however y’want,” he answers flatly, “not sure how that’s my problem.”

“Well what is your fucking problem?”

You’ve never taken that tone with him before. In fact, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you this cross before in general. He knows for sure you’ve never been this cross with him. It’s frustrating that you’re lagging in an attempt to catch up to the very obvious point he’s trying to make. The only easier route to take would be to flat out tell you how he’s completely hooked on you. He doesn’t want to do that though, not right now.

What’s his problem? Are you genuinely that dense? Oblivious? His problem is you and how, against all odds, have become a crucial influence on whether or not he’s having a good day. His problem is if he doesn’t hear from you after a while, he gets grumpy. He hates waking up and rolling over to the left side of his bed made up and untouched. That’s where he wants you to be sleeping. All the time.

His problem is you’re leaving to be with someone that isn't him.

“He knows you like I do?” he reiterates, “Fat fuckin chance.”

“Harry you of all people know that I’m-”

“Shy?” he’s talking over you now because he’s completely lost all motor control between his mouth and his brain, “I know y’shy. Know that y’do tha’ little thing with y’lip, when you’re reading or real focused on something. Y’hum in the shower and, I never said this but it’s bloody fucking annoying sometimes ‘cos it’s off key. S’off key ‘n I almost like it.”

You blinked; face flat and arms fallen to the side. All you could do was blink. And he wants to stop. God, he wants to stop talking so bad but this is your fault. You got him started so he has to keep going.

“I know y’favorite pair of socks- those hideous fuzzy green ones with th’hole in ‘em.”

He’s standing upright, now. How he got here, two feet planted on the ground with less distance between the two of you than two minutes ago; he’s not sure. There’s no specific expression on your face for him to pinpoint, so he considers edging himself a little closer towards where you’re standing. Until he’s right in front you, about to wave his white flag when he manages to break your blank stare and lock eyes

“Knows how y’like to be touched?” he’s brought his voice down a few octaves now, his index finger grazing over the undone button of your jeans, “knows.. how to get y’off? Like I do?��

His eyelids are low, pupils blown as he peers down at you. A finger of his tucks away a stray piece of your hair before it embarks on a mindless journey; grazing your jaw before before he places it strategically under your chin. Then he lifts it. He’s giving you no choice but to look at him when he asks you.

“Do y’wanna know him,” he sighs, “th’same way y’know me?”

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wavypotatochips · 1 year

Note

Hey I love your imagines sm and I was wondering could you do a jealous mbappe x reader so like kylian brings the reader (his girlfriend) to go meet the psg team and neymar is flirting with her and kylian gets really mad? Thank you

𝙎𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚 | 𝙆𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙈𝙗𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: Kylian Mbappe x Female Reader

Word Count : 2k

𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: NOT YOU MAKING ME WRITE ABOUT MY POOKIE BEING THE BAD GUY OF THE STORY <//3 haha jkjk ( NeyNey is my babygorl tho) Im glad you like my imagines, thank you so much for the compliment !!! And as always, thank you so much for requesting & I Hope you like how I represent your idea ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚!!

[ TRANSLATOR USED SO DIRECT TRANSLATION MAY BE WRONG]

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ REQUESTS ARE OPEN, currently covered in college work so as of now uploads MAY mainly be on weekends. Thank you for your patience c’: ♥

You've been dating Kylian for a few months now, and you couldn't be happier. Spending time with him always brings you joy, and he never fails to be sweet and attentive to your needs. Tonight, you have a special event planned - you're going to meet the PSG team for the first time, and understandably, you're feeling a little nervous. It's important to you to make a good impression on Kylian's friends, who are like a second family to him.

The event is a party hosted by one of his teammates, and you've dressed to impress. You're wearing a black two-piece set, which fits you perfectly and accentuates your curves in all the right places. Your black crop top showcases your breasts, while your 90s low-rise Ruched Flare Legging Pants flatter your figure and allow your belly piercing to peek through. To complete the look, you've chosen a pair of stylish wedge heels. You've let your hair fall naturally, and you've applied smokey eye makeup to match your outfit, now feeling way more confident and ready to make a great impression on Kylian's friends. As you approach the front door and put on your earrings, you call out to Kylian, "Babe, I'm ready!" When you arrive, you see that he's already waiting for you, with a wide smile on his face. "You look absolutely gorgeous, my love," he says, wrapping his arms around you and giving your butt a playful squeeze. He suggests that it might be okay to be a little late, with a wink and a hint of something more suggestive. You laugh and playfully slap his chest, "Kylian, no! Let's go!" He pouts, but eventually relents with a playful "Okayyyy." You smile and give him a kiss on the lips, to which he eagerly responds. He opens the door for you, and the two of you step out together.

As you mingle at the party, you find yourself having a surprisingly good time. You've met and chatted with most of Kylian's teammates, except for Neymar Jr. Although you're familiar with him from the headlines, you haven't had a chance to formally introduce yourself yet. Besides that, you've clicked instantly with a few of the other WAGS and have been dancing and enjoying the fantastic vibes all around. It's turning out to be a fantastic night. You are conversing with one of the WAGS and enjoying your drink when you feel a hand on your waist unexpectedly. When you look around, Kylian is standing behind you.

"Hey, babe," he says, leaning in to give you a kiss.

"Hey," you reply, smiling up at him.

As you turn back to your newly founded friend, you notice someone else looking at you. It's one of Kylian's teammates, Neymar, and he's giving you a flirty smile. You make an effort not to analyze his glance too much because you suspect he may be gazing somewhere else. You try to ignore him and focus on your conversation, but you can feel Neymar's eyes on you. Neymar did not see the kiss you and Kylian shared, so in his eyes you are a free woman. You glance over at Kylian, who is now standing beside you, and you can see that he's noticed Neymar's attention.

"Hey, Neymar," Kylian says, his voice cold. "What's up?"

"Nothing, man," Neymar replies, still grinning at you. "Just admiring this gorgeous lady here," he winks at you, “What's your name?”

Kylian's grip on your waist tightens, and you can feel his body tensing up. "She's not just any girl, Neymar," he says, his tone low and menacing. "Ela é minha namorada. Então observe-se (She's my girlfriend. So watch yourself)."

Neymar raises his hands in surrender. "Hey, man, I didn't know.. just relax."

Kylian glares at him for a few more seconds before finally letting go of your waist. You can feel his anger radiating off of him, and you're not sure how to calm him down.

"Let's go outside for a bit," he says, taking your hand and leading you towards the door.

Once you're outside, Kylian turns to you, his expression softening a bit. "I'm sorry about that, babe," he says, his voice apologetic. "I shouldn't have gotten so angry."

"It's okay," you reply, trying to reassure him. "I know you just care about me."

"I do," he says, pulling you into a hug. "I just don't like other guys looking at you like that. You're mine, and I want everyone to know it." Kylian regards you as his first love, despite the fact that he has had a few women prior to you. He loves you more than words can express, which explains why he occasionally exhibits some possessive behavior.

You smile up at him, feeling a warm feeling spread through your chest. You know that Kylian can be a bit possessive, but you also know that he cares about you deeply.

As the night goes on, you and Kylian continue to have a good time, dancing and laughing with your friends. But every now and then, you catch him glancing over at Neymar, his jaw clenched tight.

Eventually, Kylian excuses himself to go to the bathroom, and you're left standing by the bar with some of the other WAGS. You are admiring the bar and remarking on how nice it is to have a home bar. That's when Neymar comes over to you.

"Hey, sorry about before," he says, his tone contrite. "I didn't mean to upset Kylian like that."

"It's fine," you reply, trying to be polite. "He just gets a bit jealous sometimes," you let out a small laugh.

Neymar nods. "Yeah, I can tell. But, you know, he doesn't own you or anything. You're free to do what you want."

You frown at him, feeling a bit uncomfortable. "I know that," you say

Neymar leans in a bit closer to you, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath. "I'm just saying," he says, his voice low and suggestive. "If you ever want to have some fun on the side, I'm here for you."

You take a step back, feeling a surge of anger and disgust. "Excuse me?" you say, your voice sharp.

"I mean it," Neymar says, his grin widening. "I can show you a good time. Better than Kylian ever could."

You feel your face flush with anger, and you're about to say something when you hear a voice behind you.

"Get your hands off of her," Kylian growls.

You turn to see Kylian standing there, his fists clenched at his sides. His eyes are dark with anger, and you can see the muscles in his jaw working.

Neymar backs away from you, holding up his hands in surrender. "Hey, man, I was just joking around."

Kylian takes a step forward, bringing his face just inches away from Neymar's. "Do you think it's funny to hit on my girlfriend?" he says in a low, dangerous voice. Neymar responds defiantly, "Oh yeah? And what if I do? Que porra você vai fazer sobre isso? (The fuck are you gonna do about it?)" You feel a wave of fear and tension wash over you, knowing that things could turn ugly fast - and to make matters worse, they're teammates. Both of them have been drinking, which has only heightened their anger levels, but you're hoping that things won't escalate any further.

Quickly, you nudge some of the other WAGS for help, and they promptly move to help you push in between the boys. Both Kylian and Neymar back away from each other without trying to push any of you aside, which is a relief. As Kylian steps back, his hands still clenched into fists, he calls out, "Apenas dê o fora daqui (Just get the fuck out of here)," his voice cold and unforgiving. The loud music drowns out anything Neymar might have been saying as he walks away, and you hope that he didn't hear what Kylian said or else he might have come back looking for a fight. Nevertheless, you're relieved that the situation has been diffused without any physical altercations.

"Are you okay?" Kylian says, turning to you and taking your hand.

You nod, feeling a bit shaken. "Yeah," you say, your voice a bit unsteady. "Thanks for coming to my rescue." In theory, he did save you when Neymar started to bother you, so you're not sure whether to lecture him or not. You simply decide that thanking him is best.

Kylian pulls you into a hug, holding you tightly against his chest. "I'll always protect you," he says, his voice low and reassuring. "No matter what."

You feel a wave of gratitude and love for Kylian, knowing that he truly cares about you. But at the same time, you can't help but wonder if his possessiveness feels a bit suffocating. When you are around, you don't want others to be on edge.

As the night wears on, Kylian stays close to you, his eyes constantly scanning the room. You try to let loose and have fun with the other WAGS, but it's difficult to fully enjoy yourself knowing that Kylian needs constant reassurance. You can't help but feel like you're missing out on the fun as you focus on keeping Kylian calm and avoiding any further conflicts.

Finally, as the party begins to wind down, Kylian pulls you aside.

"I'm sorry about earlier," he says, his voice soft. "I know I can get a bit jealous sometimes."

"It's okay" you say, giving him a small smile. "I appreciate that you care about me, but I don't think threatening people is the best way to handle situations like that. While I'm grateful you came to my aid, it's important to remember that you're a public figure and your actions have consequences. I don't want to see you get into trouble because of me."

Kylian sighs, nodding in agreement. "You're right. Sometimes I forget that my actions have a bigger impact than just the immediate moment. I'm sorry for putting you in a difficult position, my love." He sounds regretful because he knew that before the mayhem erupted, you were having fun.

You reach out and gently caress his cheek to reassure him, "Thanks for understanding where I'm coming from….But of course, thank you for sticking up for me… and I still did have a lot of fun tonight."

Kylian grins, "Of course, anything for you. And just so you know, I'll always stand up for you. You're not just some girl to me, you're my girlfriend and I want to protect you."

You chuckle, "I know that. And I appreciate it. But let's try to avoid unnecessary confrontations in the future, okay?"

"Okay," Kylian agrees. "I promise to be more mindful of my actions if people try to talk to my soon-to-be-wife.”

You roll your eyes but can't help but smile at his infectious enthusiasm, “What am I going to do with you Kylian?”

“I don't know, maybe kiss me?,” he says in a playful tone causing you to let out a small laugh.

You lean in to give him a quick kiss. "I love you, Kylian."

"I love you more," he replies, gazing at you with adoration. "And I'll always strive to be the best partner I can be."

You could see Kylian's mood lighten up as he realized that everything was going to be okay.

You two walked back into the party and only stayed for an extra hour-or so before leaving. As you two are walking up to your house, Kylian leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, "Thank you for being patient with me. I promise I'll make it up to you."

You smile, feeling grateful for the amazing man by your side. "You don't have to make it up to me, Ky. I just want you to be happy."

He squeezes your hand, his eyes shining with affection. "I am happy, because I have you."

Kylian stops and faces you as you both approach the front entrance of the house.

He leans in and kisses you, his lips warm and tender against yours. "You are my world, Y/N I love you so so much,” he murmurs before sighing, “What am I going to do with you?"

You smile cheekily, “ I don't know, maybe kiss me?,” you say, mimicking him from earlier.

He smiles, nods, "Glady," and presses his lips once more against yours.

Love and affection filled the air as you both kissed each other, and you both realized that no matter what the future contained, the only thing that mattered was that you had each other.

398 notes · View notes

ykwrites · 1 year

Text

Fired- Ukai x reader

Pairing: Ukai x fem!reader.

Warnings: Descriptions of sex, no use of protection.

Rating: NSFW

MASTERLIST

Evenings at the store were... uneventful, just a few highschool students passed by to get drinks or snacks before heading to the library after class.

It wasn't your dream job by any means, but it lasted only about three hours long if your boss didn't take too long coaching Karasuno's volleyball team and it paid okay (as okay as it could, being so easy and giving you the freedom to even study if you had no costumers)

You were in college, this little job helping you buy the few useless things your family rightfully refused buying for you.

It was a thursday evening, 5pm to be exact, your stupid economics book lying on the counter in front of you, so boring it could kill.

As background noise there was Shoyo, rummaging through bags of chips like a desperate child, making it impossible for you to concentrate.

''Hinata, pick one already''you urged.

''Sorry!''he said, peeking from behind the snack shelf with an enthusiastic but still apologetic smile.

''What are you doing here anyway? I can´t imagine you missing practice on purpose''

Shojo was obsessed with volleyball, passionate.

''There wasn't practice today, and the team wanted to go home already''putting three bags of chips on the counter, he explained, a pout clear on his lips.

Huh, weird.

Ukai said he WAS going to practice that day, he wouldn't have asked you to go to work if he wasn't.

Maybe he had plans he didn't want to tell.

A date?

The sole thought sent cold shivers down your spine, hopefully it wasn't for a date.

I should explain now, that the money this job paid wasn´t the only reason why you decided to work there. Maybe Ukai's presence had a bit to do with it.

''Y/n?''Shojo shook his hand in front of your face, making you snap out of it ''You okay?''

''I just... spaced out''you explained ''4,50''

Nodding, the little tangerine searched his pockets for the money, getting distracted when the door opened.

The smell of smoke instantly filled your nose, followed by a very deep and stoic voice.

''Hinata, what are you doing here?''

''Coach!''Shojo responed, smiling ''I'm buying chips''

''Go home, it's late''the blonde spoke, demanding, his presence making you melt with every step closer he took.

Instead of saying anything back, Shojo nodded, put money in your hand and quickly left, running out like he was scared for his life.

For a moment, the store fell silent, Ukai calmly walked around to check that everything was okay, and you decided to pretend you were extremely concentrated on your book, because otherwise you would be eyeing him down.

He was so ridiculously hot, blonde hair tucked back with his signature black band and a loose white shirt on, the first few buttons undone. This outfit was... too formal for him, he usually wore hoodies with the store´s apron on top.

Did he really go on a date? why else would he lie about where he was going?

Even more so dressed that way...

''Whatchu' looking at, kid?''he asked.

O shit, you were eyeing him down.

Pretending not to care, you rolled your eyes, annoyed at the stupid nickname he always used. He was only four years older and acted like he was 90.

''Just how ugly you look''you lied, making him laugh.

''You're the only one who said that today''he sat on a small stool near the soda fridge, fixing his hair.

If it wasn't impossible, you would think he was trying to make you jealous.

''Someone told you that you look good? tell them to get their eyes checked''

''Will do, I don´t think she'll change her mind tho''

SHE?

Definitely a fucking date, and you couldn't demostrate how much it bothered you.

Knowing you had no right to be even sligthly mad about this, but still being furious and annoyed, you closed your book and started gathering your things to leave. Trying to look as calm as you could, if he was there, your shift was over.

''How was the day?''he quickly changed the subject, his tone still playful ''Lots of costumers?''

He knew the answer to that.

''The usual''your voice was dry but careful not to express emotion.

To be honest, you had never shown Ukai any romantic or physical interest, but he was so out of your league it scared you to confess or make advances. Also, he always called you ''kid'' and pointed out how young and naive you were.

After a while of working with him, you got used to the idea of admiring him from afar, but didn't consider the obvious possibility of him getting a girlfriend.

You just had to get over it, leave your crush in the past and see him as what he was, your boss.

''I´ll head out, you need me to come back tomorrow?''you said, putting on your coat,

''As always, why you ask?'' he looked confused.

''Nothing''

''Okay, see you tomorrow then''

''At what time? wouldn't want you to be late for your date''you thougt, but didn't say it.

Your footsteps towards the door were extremely loud, a tense feeling of jealousy and embarrassment flooding your senses.

As soon as cold air hit you, you cursed in between your teeth. The walk home felt longer than usual, with more overthinking than actually walking.

Of course, your feelings towards Ukai were destined to end or be kept in your fantasies forever.

You couldn't complain, you weren't entitled to anything and you were too much of a coward.

That night, you closed your eyes wondering how that woman he was dating must've been feeling, how she felt when his hands touched her, rough and sweet at the same time, demanding.

And his lips... probably soft, tasting of cheap cigarettes, leaving marks to dominate and show she belonged to him.

Oh, what wouldn't you give to feel all of that yourself.

The next day your alarm ringed too early, leaving you plenty of time to overthink while you showered, had breakfast and tried to study for a few hours before having to head out to work.

Before leaving, you looked in the mirror, fixing the short, black pleaded skirt you put on because it was warmer outside.

As always, a short glimpse of hope made you wish he would notice your outfit. (too revealing to work in a small convenience store)

On your way, you crossed paths with a couple of Ukai's students who greeted you enthusiastically, dressed in their sport's uniform.

A couple of them went out to buy drinks for the whole team before friday's practice every week, so it wasn't weird seeing them walk back to the school with bags.

What was weird that day, was Ukai sitting behind the counter with his apron still on, crossed legs up on the counter, leaning back on the chair while lazily smoking instead of ready to leave quickly.

''Hey''he greeted, still not moving.

''Hey''you said, walking past him to leave your things in the back, assuming he would leave right when you got out.

''We have to restock the gum''

''Okay, I´ll get to it after cleaning''

And, he was in the same exact position when you appeared with the broom in hand.

''Don't you have practice?''

''The boys wanted to have a day for themselves''

''And you let them?''you asked, even more confused but trying to look uninterested.

''Well, I have more interesting things to do''

''I thought the interesting plan was yesterday''

''Yesterday?''

''Mhm''avoiding his gaze, you started cleaning the first aisle ''I would think that going on a date is way more exciting than being here, or at practice''

A small laugh escaped his lips, choked.

''If you consider having lunch with my grandma a date, I guess you´re right''

Upon hearing his words, you froze in place.

His grandma?

Before your brain could elaborate, or even realize how stupid and out of proportion your reaction was, he said something, something you would never have expected to hear from him.

''Is that why you got so mad yesterday?''he asked, playful ''because you thought I went on a date?''

This shit had to be a joke, not real, so you promptly ignored him, back turned to pretend you didn´t hear anything.

''How rude of you, not responding to your boss''

What the fuck was happening? Why was he acting like this?

''It was a stupid question''desperately trying to control the situation, you spoke, turning to look at him.

Ukai´s face was easy to read, showing how much he enjoyed himself, arms crossed and a smug smile on his lips.

''Then answer''he dared, standing up.

''I don't care what you do on your free time''

''What a bummer''

He huffed and you looked at him wide eyed, what did he mean by that? This was certainly new, and it didn't make any sense, bizarre and out of place, because in the couple months you had worked for him, he never acted this way.

Ukay was usually a serius, kind of dry and tired man, he probably had cracked two or three jokes in the time you had known him, but never this way.

''Ukai, what do you mean?''you asked, now seriously wondering if the man in front of you was a clone and not the actual Ukai.

Your question seemed to break his facade, making him look away and nervously fix his hairband, letting out a frustrated curse that you couldn't quite hear.

''Nevermind, I was messing with you''he said, quickly getting in the back.

Intuition told you he was lying, and with the urge to find out what all of this was, your feet moved on their own, following him.

Ukai stood with his hands resting on the small table he had full of bills and random paper, cheeks furiously red, even more when he saw you there.

''How rude of you, not responding to your employee''you joked, trying to ease his nerves(and also yours)

''I...played a dumb prank on you, it was inappropriate''now he acted like himself ''I´m sorry if I made you uncomfortable''

''You didn't make me uncomfortable, but I am extremely confused''

''Forget it, kid, a prank doesn't need that much thought''

For some reason, you still thought he was lying, so in a desperate attempt to clear things up and annoyed because he used the little nickname, you walked towards him with an intimidating gaze, resting your hands on the table right next to his with a loud and determined thump.

If this was a prank, you had the right to get him back, and if it wasn't...well, you would NOT miss a juicy chance.

''Seems like you tried to make me jealous''squinting your eyes, you got real close to his face.

Ukai almost jumped back, but after a few seconds of hesitation, he stood his ground, eyes turning dark.

''What if I did?''he said, that tone of enjoyment from earlier coming back mixed with dominance.

There was no going back now, you had to take the fucking chance.

''Didn't take you for a man who gets all scared when a woman doesn't get that he is flirting''you teased.

''Stop trying to piss me off'' he was so close that the familiar scent of his perfume mixed with cheap tobacco flooded every inch of you,

''And what if I am? are you going to do something about it?''

In seconds, his left hand held your chin up, bringing you close to slam his lips against yours with such force it could leave bruises, however you didn´t care if your lips fell off after this, because you kissed Ukai.

This was the kind of kiss that leaves people gasping for air, panting for more touch.

''I knew you liked me''he said, smug, still holding your chin.

''Who said that?''you challenged, walking around the table to bump against him on purpose.

Ukai didn´t flinch but smiled, confidently placing a hand on your waist and the other just at the edge where your short black skirt met your thigh. Instinctively, you shivered, melting under his touch.

Before responding, his lips attacked yours again with burning hunger, getting you desperate on purpose.

''I know you wear these little things just to tease me''his hand traveled up your thigh, teasing.

''Took you long enough to notice''

''Oh''he chuckled, voice deep, his digits moving up to meet the edge of your underwear ''I noticed, every time''

Almost shivering from excitement, you kissed him again, biting his bottom lip to earn a delicious groan and a more adventurous hand placed on your clit teasingly. He didn´t put pressure but smiled down at you, sinister, waiting for you to beg.

His name fell from your lips like a silent prayer and he took it upon himself to make you suffer a little bit, moving his digits only a couple of times.

''What?''he asked, still smiling, aware of how he had you in the palm of his hand with such little effort ''why don't you tell me what you want?''

Waiting for a response, Ukai placed a slow kiss on your cheek, the closest he could to your lips without touching them. It was a clear way of demostrating how he could make you moan so easy, melt under his touch.

''Touch me''you asked, panting.

''Mhm''he nodded, devouring your lips one more time and finally moving his fingers against your heat with a rythm.

Small moans filled the room while he worked his magic, leaving your panties a soaking mess, sticky and warm.

A small knot formed inside you, brain going fuzzy and shockwaves travelling up and down your body. Desperate to feel closer to him, to feel more, you needed to kiss him again and palm his growing bulge. As a response he groaned again, grinding against your hand for a few moments until he unexpectedly took a step back.

''Get on the table''before you could protest, he spoke ''take off your panties first, leave the skirt on''

You more than happily obligued, throwing away a couple of papers and sitting, legs immediately open for him.

Ukai observed the mess he made, proud to see your blushing face and eyes asking him to fuck you senseless, his dick was about to explode, so before going back to kiss you, he took off every piece of fabric in the way, leaving just his shirt on.

Your eyes shoot open at the mouth-watering sight, thick and veiny, slightly bent at the tip, but he didn´t let you look much before he was already kissing you,left hand on your neck while the other teased your folds.

''You are such a good girl''he spoke, inserting a finger slowly ''Your pussy is clenching so much, like you want to cum just now, and I didn't even move''

His words were like a drug, addictive, tempting and a great way to make you go crazy when he finally moved his finger, bending it with the sole purpose of finding the sweetest spot inside you.

At this point you couldn't even kiss him, head thrown back at the pleasure and hips grinding to follow his movements.

Just when you thought things couldn't feel better, he added another finger without warning, making you gasp loudly as he scissored his fingers to stretch your soaking cunt.

''Ukai''you managed to say ''Oh god''

Concentrated on you, he just listened to your sweet and lewd sounds, leaving marks on every piece of skin his lips could find.

Tears pooled in your eyes, the pleasure being too much for you to handle, one hand gripping Ukai's arm for leverage when you finally unleashed with a big, breathy moan, almost a scream.

''Fuck''breathless, you spoke, feeling his hand slip out of you.

''You did so good for me''he said, stroking your cheek with a passionate kiss.

This moment as you came down from your high, your heart swelled up, because he was being so sweet, loving almost, clearly giving you time to recover and breathe before moving any further.

For a bit, Ukai just kissed your face and your lips gently, touching your body in more of a caring way.

''You wanna keep going?''he asked, not pushy but relaxed, the dominance in his voice now gone.

''Ukai''you said, propping yourself up enough to tangle your hands behid his neck and pull his face closer until his ear was next to your lips, close enough to whisper ''I want you to fuck me, hard''

This time, you were the one smiling playfully when his face turned all red and desperate, welcoming the furious slam of his lips against yours. It was inevitable, you lit a fire in him and he still took his sweet time kissing and touching you all over until he couldn't take it anymore and guided his member with your entrance, bottoming out in a sharp thrust that took every bit of air out of your lungs.

It definitely felt better than his fingers, and that's saying a lot.

Ukai wasted no time and with a low moan, he held your hips and moved fast inside you.

''You feel so good, fuck''he said, squeezing hard where he had his hands and desperately searching for your lips.

Hardly, you kissed him, back arching at the pressure and feeling of him inside you, reminiscing every time you had touched yourself thinking of this very moment, even more turned on now that the fantasy was way better than you imagined.

Ukai was good, rough just how you liked it, extremely good at finding the places that drove you both crazy.

Soon after you were clamping down on him, earning more of those deep moans you loved so much.

''Fuck, pretty, I´m going to cum''he warned, movements getting sloppy.

''Cum inside me'' you pleaded.

''You sure?''

''Please''

That's all he needed to hear, and in the blink of an eye, he bottomed out one last time to release his warm load inside your walls, hazily slipping out after.

Between shaky breaths and the sweaty mess you both were, you could feel his cum dripping out of you and onto the table to wich he gave a lazy smile.

''You look so pretty like this''he chuckled, setting himself between your legs again, hands lovingly on your waist.

''Well''you laughed, heart almost exploding at the sight of him all fucked out and also very pretty ''You look like a mess''joking, you fixed his hairband.

''All because of you''

''Mhm, if you say so''

''We should go out together''he said, leaving small kisses all over your face.

''Should've asked me out before this, I think you skipped a step''

''Are you rejecting me?''Ukai laughed.

''I can't reject my boss, wouldn't want to get fired''

''Not in a million years, baby, you could punch me and I still wouldn't fire your fine ass''

#ukai scenario #ukai x reader #ukai smut #hq smut #hq scenarios #hq headcanons #hq imagine #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!!#haikyuu smut #haikyuu imagine #ukai keishin

602 notes · View notes

wildemaven · 1 year

Text

The Secrets We Keep…

Pairing: Dave York x F!Reader

WC: 5284

Warnings: 18+; self doubt, asshole friend, cheating, divorce, failed engagement, food and alcohol, hotel hookups, hot and heavy make out session, a little angst I think, secretly in love with friend’s husband, I think that’s it.

A/N: This has been sitting for so long! I’m glad to finally get this off my WIP list! I struggled through some parts of this so I hope it flows well!! I feel like Dave is misunderstood and just wants to be loved, so this is me trying to give him that… Anyways hope you enjoy! Likes, Comments and Reblogs are appreciated, helps me know you enjoy and helps me to stay motivated so I can write more.

Shout out to @gnpwdrnwhiskey getting me in my Dave feels and talking through this with me!!

Masterlist / Main

“I’m going to tell him tonight!” You told the reflection looking back at you.

You give yourself a once over in the mirror, admiring the way the black dress drapes over your body, the way it hugged every inch of you. This slip dress was outside your realm of comfort, especially for tonight. You lived in well-worn jeans and buttery soft t-shirts outside of your 9-5 work attire, sandals or sneakers depending on the weather-- You chose comfort over dressing up 90% of the time.

But tonight you decided to throw caution to the wind, opting for something on the sexier side in hopes for a little confidence boost. The dress, simple jewelry and strappy heels were definitely doing it for you in this very moment. Taking one last spin, your phone vibrates on our dresser. Noting the time, you already know who it is—your longtime friend Carol.

*Ding*

Carol: Are you on your way yet?? The sooner I can get out of here the better!!

*Ding*

Carol: Dave is hovering and it’s pathetic

You were already dreading tonight and it hadn’t even begun.

*Ding*

Carol: I need a drink! The sooner the better!

You: Hi! Sorry!! I got sidetracked picking an outfit, but settled on the 5th option I tried on! Just grabbing my purse and heading out the door. Be there in 15!!

Carol. Carol York.

Your longtime friend of many years. You’d met when you both attended the same college in this very town. Both graduating at the same time and starting your careers together. You considered her one of your closest friends. You’d both had gotten engaged around the same time too. Her to Dave, who you always found to be very reserved but polite—could be his government job. And you to Jason… Jason who worked in accounting and loved to crunch numbers at all hours of the day— thrilling.

But as the years went on it was apparent that Carol didn’t value the friendship you shared as much as you had.

The digs were what you first started to pick up on throughout the years— the backhanded compliments, at your expense. Always pointing out things she thought you could fix about yourself— “You shouldn’t wear your hair like that, it’s not flattering” “I don’t know why you keep wearing that color, it horrible” “Why do you always just stand there when we go out? You would probably have more friends if you actually talked to other people”

You always brushed them off as Carol’s way of being a “good friend”, and as years went on you found yourself believing most of what she said too. She wouldn’t say them if they weren’t true… right??

When your engagement to Jason ended, Carol was there for you— sort of.

She and Dave had been married for a year when you and Jason had called it quits, deciding you were better off as friends and not romantically.

While you weren’t that heartbroken over the break-up, you still wanted your friend to lean on as you began to navigate through this new chapter of your life. Carol let you sulk for about 2 days before she was letting you know everything you could have done better and why Jason was better off. And once again, you took her harshness as just being a good friend—because that’s what good friends do… right??

It wasn’t until the affair began did you start to look at Carol differently.

Her and Dave had always seemed rock solid in their marriage. You never heard about fights or disagreements. Carol never complained about him outside of the normal annoyances. Dave was always the outstanding husband everyone adored. And while he was ever the dutiful husband, he was equally handsome. Carol knew women looked at him too. But that wasn’t enough for her. He wasn’t enough for her.

She met Glenn through work, you assumed some young intern wanting work his way up in the ranks. Carol kept it hidden as much as she could. But as they got more serious, the quick fucks in the office weren’t sufficient for them. So Carol had to think quick on her feet, come up with something that could get her more time with Glen.

In comes Girl’s Night.

Who would suspect anyone would be cheating, if they were meeting with their dear friend every Wednesday for a regular Girl’s Night? That’s how you found yourself getting thrown into this mess of a situation. Carol confided in you about the affair, said she was bored to death with Dave and needed something more exciting in her life— a complete shock to you. You had tried to tell her to just explain to Dave where she was coming from, maybe they could seek counseling to try and mend whatever Carol thought was lacking.

But Carol wouldn’t budge.

You became third wheel to her extra-curricular marital activities. Picking her up every Wednesday and driving to the fancy hotel across town where she would meet up with Glenn at the room he booked for them weekly. You would sit at the bar in the lobby for close to an hour by yourself, wishing you were literally anywhere else but there.

You felt icky letting this carry on for as long as it did—almost as if you were the one doing the cheating too. You didn’t deserve to be put in this position.

Dave doesn’t deserve this! I have to say something. I can’t be a part of this anymore! You thought to yourself as you drove the few blocks it took to get to their lovely two-story home. He deserved to know who his wife was and how she was when he wasn’t around.

Dave was a great guy. Always attentive to Carol and her lavish ways. Her wanting to look the part of the successful wife. Top name brand clothes and accessories, top of the line cars and dinners at the fanciest restaurants for no special occasion other than to just be seen. Dave just let her be, never complaining or showing any sort of annoyance at her ridiculous behavior.

Dave was the perfect husband if you were being brutally honest. And perfectly handsome. His dark locks were always brushed just right, never out of place. His eyes, while dark in color, held so much lightness to them—especially when he smiled that gorgeous smile of his. Your gaze instinctually would gravitate towards him without even realizing it sometimes. Imagining what it would be like to have someone as dreamy as Dave was.

You had even imagined what it would be like if it was you who Dave came home to every night. How you would take care of him—preparing his favorite meals, making sure he had a few snacks tucked away in his briefcase just in case there wasn’t time for lunch. Dave was worthy of being taken care of everyday. But this wasn’t reality.

Reality was Dave is married to your friend who doesn’t love him the way that you could—the way that you deeply wanted to.

You pushed those thoughts aside as you pulled up to their home. Checking yourself in the mirror once more before making your way up to their front door.

You knocked several times, waiting on the front step, hoping it would be Carol to open the door. You weren’t sure you could see Dave in this very moment. You wanted to wait until after you dropped Carol off at home, knowing she would be indulging in a few drinks too many and wouldn’t be up for conversation once she was safely home for the evening.

The creak of the door opening pulls you from your thoughts, and staring back at you is Dave. Dave in his grey fitted work slacks, baby blue dress shirt with its sleeves rolled up exposing his beautiful taut forearms. Your breath hitches in surprise, trying your best to conceal any sort of desire you have for this man.

“Hi..” His voice trailed off as his eyes scanned your body from head to toe, no words needed to convey the look of desire he tried so hard to make look less than obvious.

“Hi Dave. I.. umm.. Is Carol ready??” The words manage to fumble from your mouth. The look he’s giving you is hard to read but it’s enough to send a yearning want through your body.

“Yes…Yeah! She said she would be down in just a second. Just finishing up. Would you like to come in and wait? I can get you a drink??” Pulling the door open and motioning for you to come in. He seems nervous too.

“Thank you, but I’m good. I don’t plan on drinking tonight but I appreciate the offer.” Stepping through the door and planting yourself in their entryway.

There’s a heaviness in the air as you both stand there in silence.

You avert your eyes as much as possible but you can’t help but look at the man standing before you, they way you’re so drawn to him as he stands there with his head down and hip out, hands resting on his narrow waist line.

The sound of Carol bounding down the stairs has you standing taller, hoping your awkwardness isn’t noticeable.

“Alright don’t wait up for me Dave. I’m sure we’ll be late like always.” Grabbing her purse off the stair railing and shoving her phone and wallet in to it.

“You’re wearing that?!” She points at you. Her expression shows distaste and a sense of jealousy if you had to guess.

You look down at yourself, embarrassment ticking the back of your neck. Looking up you see Dave staring at you, his face hard to read, he must agree with her and you wish you could crawl in a hole and hide away forever.

“Do I look bad?”

“Well it’s not the worst thing you’ve worn. But maybe this will the thing that catches someone’s attention finally.”

“Carol..” Dave’s eyebrows arch up at her comment, his jaw ticking to the side as Carol continues her onslaught of badgering, shifting his stance in the uncomfortableness that now surrounds the three of you.

“We’re late. Let’s go.” Clapping her hands together to announce her departure. Dave goes in for a kiss or a hug but is met with Carols retreating back as she makes her way to the car.

“Have a good night Dave. I’ll make sure she comes back in one piece.” You smile at him sweetly as you begin your journey to the car.

“Just so you know she was wrong. You look nice.”

You stop just before you’ve made it outside, turning to see Dave staring at you, his gaze has softened bit with Carol now out of earshot.

You can’t help but feel giddy at his comment, a smile tugging at your lips as you look at him.

“Thanks, Dave.”

You can feel your palms begin to sweat as you try to think of how to bring up the subject to Carol, knowing it won’t be received well.

You turn the volume of the radio down so you’re not competing for her attention.

“Carol, we need to talk. When are you going to tell Dave about the affair? You can’t keep this up forever. Just tell him you’re unhappy and I’m sure he’ll understand or something.”

“Ugh! Can we talk about anything but Dave.” Rolling her eyes and avoiding the topic all together.

“Carol I’m serious.” Your grip on the steering wheel tightening as you continue to question her. “This needs to end. And whether that’s you telling Dave you’re done and want a divorce or you stop this secrecy thing you’re doing and fix your marriage.”

You’re adrenaline is peaking and you can feel yourself questioning whether or not you’re doing the right thing.

“You couldn’t even keep a man long enough to get married, let alone keep an actual relationship— you think I’m going to take advice from you? Ha! That’s real fuckin’ rich coming from you.”

“This is the last time Carol. No more girls night out. No more me covering for you. I’m done— I don’t want to be a part of your lies any more.” Putting your car in park, finality dripping from your voice.

“What are you going to do, tell him yourself.” Swallowing the last bit of confidence you had as she continues. “You don’t think I see the way you look at Dave? That I don’t see the way you make eyes at my husband? You sound like a hypocrite.”

You can feel the heat as it spreads across your face. Are you as horrible as she is? You’d never act on your feelings towards Dave— he’s married, and he loves Carol. You would never involve yourself in someone’s marriage.

“Here, get yourself a drink or two, loosen up a bit. And while you’re at it, take out that stick you have lodge up your ass— might help you get laid.” Venom pouring from her mouth as she exits the car, tossing a few $20 bills on the seat before slamming the door shut.

The bartender keeps the drinks coming, Diet Coke on the rocks is as good as it’s going to get. You’ll pour yourself something stronger the minute you get home. You’re going to need it after tonight’s disastrous argument with Carol.

You’ve been sitting here nearing two hours now, an hour longer than normal and turning down several unwanted advances from inebriated hotel guests who clearly thought they were being slick as they slurred their words.

The bartender silently places another glass in front of you, a pity nod to your pathetic singleness. You’ll be sure to leave him a decent tip for the somewhat non-judgmental service.

A staggering figure heading your direction catches your attention. Carol being helped by who can only assume is Glen— you’d never met him prior to this evening, only been told of him by Carol.

You’re taken aback by him, he’s not what you expected at all. He’s short in stature, pointed features and what you can only assume is a poorly glued on hair piece.

Your brain trying to figure out the how and the what behind his appeal. He is everything Dave is not by appearance standards— you have to stop yourself from comparing this guy to Dave, he’s not yours.

Glen, who’s one bum hip away from an AARP subscription, is edging exhaustion as he tries his best to keep Carol upright as he tries to prop her up once they get to the bar.

Carol attempts to say something, but she is too far gone to make any sense.

“She finished two bottles of champagne, barely touched dinner so she’s a little drunk.” You’re already annoyed by his voice and you’d just met him.

He asks for your help and you both all but carry Carols half limp body to the passenger seat of your car.

Buckling her in, cause you still care for her safety, he mumbles some gross lovey nonsense to her and kisses her with his chapped crinkled lips. Thankfully they’re both unaware of how confused and semi-grossed out you are at their whole interaction.

“I’m Glen by the way.” Leaning further into the car extending his crepey hand over Carol to you in the driver’s seat.

You can smell the champagne on Carol’s breath, definitely smells expensive and nauseating, as she slurs through tries her best to introduce him to you, telling you how Glen is the CEO of her firm and how much money he has— it all making sense now.

You look at his hand then back up to his face. “So I’ve heard. Please close the door.”

He slinks out and closes the door as you start the car, promptly backing out of the space to set out on your drive back to the York’s home.

You were looking forward to washing this night off of you. Hoping a hot shower would strip away the guilt and shame of being an accomplice to Carol’s affair, as well as the what you can only assume the ending of your friendship.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting in Dave and Carol’s driveway. Carol’s snoring the soundtrack to you weighing the pros and cons of telling Dave.

Pros:

He wouldn’t have to suffer Carol’s charade of being the perfect couple to keep up with the Jones’

He wouldn’t have to deal with Carol being insufferable when she doesn’t get her way

He would be happy

Cons:

He might think you’re making things up to break up their marriage

He might tell you you’re meddling

He might hate you

The odds seem pretty even as your brain continues its spiral trying to convince yourself to just tell Dave the truth. The possibility of never seeing him again weighing heavily on your heart.

There’s a knock on your window and you nearly have a heart attack. Dave is bent down trying to get your attention, you’re not sure if he’d been standing there awhile or not.

You roll down your window, the cool air hitting your face, a slight chill creeping over your skin.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” You melt at the sight of his smile, he looks so happy when he does.

“She might have gotten a little carried away tonight.” Looking over at Carol still completely passed out, trying to decide what you should share about your evening.

“That’s okay. I can go ahead get her out.” He’s still looking at you, his gaze is enveloping and sincere. “Would you like to come in for a bit?”

“Umm, yeah— sure. I’ll grab her purse for you.”

Some how Dave makes into the house with cradling her sleeping body, you following on his heels. Even in her drunken state, he’s still an attentive husband.

You set her purse down on the entry table and shuffle about, not really sure what to do with yourself. You’ve been here plenty of times but you all of a sudden feel like a stranger within these walls.

“Go ahead and help yourself to water or snacks if you’re hungry, just going to put Carol to bed and then I’ll be right down.” Looking down at you from the top of the stairs.

You admire his broad shoulders, his T-shirt pulled tight across them and his flexed biceps bulging as he carries his cheating wife to bed.

A drink of cold water was just what you needed to calm yourself down, now the glass sits heavy in your hand as you stand in the kitchen, trying to not let your mind wander off too much.

“Sorry about that. Got her all tucked in for the night. She’s going to hurt tomorrow.” Dave says as he enters the kitchen.

“Mhmmm..” Taking one last sip of water, your throat suddenly dry at the sight of him— a comfy relaxed t-shirt and a pair of dark wash jeans.

“Yeah…So, you ladies must have had a fun night then??”

You watch him move about the kitchen, grabbing dishes from varied spots on the counters and placing them in the sink.

“Yeah… W-we always have a great time.”

You place your now empty glass on the kitchen island in front of you, trying your best to sound as convincing as possible, but you’re not really sure he’s buying it when he only hums in response.

“I have some of that wine you love in the fridge if you want a glass?” He says pointing over to the fridge behind you as he settles up against the island counter next to you, actively trying to keep some distance between the two of you.

“I didn’t realize you like it too?”

“I— actually I don’t.” A nervous laugh huffs out of his chest, his hands settling in his pockets as he looks down at his feet for a few seconds, then back over to you. “You always bring it over and seemed to really enjoy drinking it. I keep a bottle, you just in case.”

“Oh..” His admission has you reeling.

Why would he go out of his way to do that for you? Carol doesn’t even like the wine, and you know this because she makes a point to tell you how cheap it is compared to the vintage Cabernet any chance she gets, which is usually in front of her other friends and colleagues.

And then it hits you like a ton of bricks out of no where, Dave has been more of a friend to you over the years than Carol ever has been. Always making sure you feel comfortable when he’s around and doing these small little things for you, like a normal friend would.

“Dave… There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Yeah?” His brows furrowed as he looks at you with concern.

“Umm, these Girl’s Nights aren’t really that…” You take a deep breath before you continue to share your truth. “Carol…” The words seem to get caught in your throat, but you decide it’s now or never. “Carol’s been having an affair with her boss. She came up with this weekly night out thing so she could meet up with him and I some how got caught up in it. I told her she needed to tell—“

“I know.” You think you hear him laugh as he says it.

“What? You know about the affair?!”

“Yeah. Known for awhile actually.”

“And you never said anything?!”

“I work for the government and she’s really not as subtle as she think she is. Plus I needed to quietly collect all the information to help my case when we go to court. Knowing Carol, she’ll try to twist everything.”

Your hands planted firmly on the countertop to hold yourself up as you process what he just told you. You don’t know if this is a relief that Dave knows, or makes you look even worse that you hadn’t said something sooner, your head spinning in circles.

“Wait! What do you mean when you go to court?” Your attention snapping back over to where he’s still standing.

“I filed for divorce last week. The paperwork is waiting for her on the nightstand next to the Advil and water she’ll need when she wakes up.”

You can’t help feel relieved and happy Dave knows but also a little sad that he now has to deal with this. Divorces can be messy and knowing Carol, she isn’t going to go down without a fight.

“I’m so sorry Dave. I should have told you sooner. I can’t believe I just let her think she could use me for her own gain.” Your head hangs down a bit, you wish you had stood up for yourself all those times Carol was anything but kind to you— but hindsight is always 20/20 as they say.

Dave must sense your emotions as he slowly places his hand on yours, his thumb drawing small delicate circles over your wrist.

Your eyes are glued to where his hand is, it’s warm and tender. The tiny movements have your heart pounding, you’re not sure if he realizes the effect it’s having on you.

“Hey..” He leans back a bit to get your attention back to him. “You have nothing to be sorry for, this isn’t your fault at all. Even with out the affair, I think this would still be our outcome.”

“What do you mean? You seemed so in love with her.”

“I mean, yeah, I do love her— did?” His jaw ticks to the side a bit, trying to gather his thoughts. “We’ve both been distant for awhile now. I’ve been sleeping in the guest room for a month— we’ve essentially been separated under the same roof.”

“Carol never said anything.”

“I’m sure she wanted everyone to still think she had this perfect life outside of these walls.”

“Doesn’t really seem fair to you.”

He shrugs his shoulders, looking at you with a slight grin. “I could say the same about how she treats you.” And he’s right.

“You look really beautiful tonight.” His voice is shaky, his smile soft as he takes you in again. Pushing himself off the counter he inches closer until he’s standing directly behind you.

“Th-thank you.”

His fingers toying with yours as his firm chest meets your back, heat radiating from him as he cages you in.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful, always wanted to tell you how beautiful you are.” His breath fanning hot against your ear. Your breathing heavy and rapid as he confesses his thoughts to you.

“Tell me to stop and I will…”

You turn so you’re facing him, your body giving in to what it has so desperately been craving, your hands seeking out more of him as they slide up his chest to his broad shoulders.

His eyes flitting up and down, your lips and eyes his main focus as he waits for a response.

“Don’t stop…please.” Ever.

It’s magnetic the way his lips collide into yours, a moment you’d only ever dreamed about in private, never thinking it would ever become your reality.

His strong hands work over your body, grabbing, pushing, pulling—taking advantage of having you this close to him.

Dave is a force, a heady mix of carnal desire and affection— a man starved of love.

The minute your lips part, his tongue is seeking out yours, heavy but sweet as he devours your mouth— you try your best to give him the same energy he’s pouring into you.

Your hips will themselves towards his, a slow deliberate grind against him, your fingers accentuating your need for more— and more he’s willing to give.

He pats your hip, signaling for you to hop on the counter, his hands grabbing the backs of your thighs helping you up.

A wet sensation has you nipples perking, Dave taking the weight of your breast in his mouth while he gently pinches and rolls your other nipple. The feeling of his warm mouth and the cool fabric of the dress against you sensitive skin elicits a small whimper, your head falling back and back arching into his touch.

“Dave..” You’re not even sure what you were going to say, your chest heaving and head clouded by lust. You’re putty at the hands of this man.

“Yeah, tell me—tell me what you want.” Kissing his every open space available to him— the top of your exposed chest all the way up your neck. His hands pushing your dress higher as he pushes your legs apart, prompting you to wrap them around him and pulling him in close.

“You. Always wanted you!”

A moan rips from his throat and he kissing you like he’s not sure if he’s ever going to again, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to him. Your own hands moving about, gripping his hair and caressing his face as your mouths work together.

Arousal thick and swarming, fueling the sexual fire that’s about to burn this fucking kitchen down.

At some point the reality of what is happening cracks through your brain and your body goes rigid— guilt washing over you like an ice cold bath.

Dave senses the shift in your demeanor and pulls away, brows pinched in concern as he tries to read your expression.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay— did I hurt you?” He’s breathless, his hair a mess from your doing, his lips full and he looks so beautiful in this post lustrous haze.

“N-no. I’m fine, I promise. I just— I can’t do this. I mean I want to, trust me I do. But it feels wrong.” You close your eyes and let out a deep sigh, leaning forward to rest your forehead on Dave’s. “You’re still technically married and I’m no better than Carol if we let this continue with where this was headed.”

You can feel Dave nod in agreement before he pulls away, a brief kiss to your temple before he’s helping you off the counter and righting your clothes.

Your heart sinks at how quiet he is when he walks you to your car, you’re not sure what to say or how to feel.

You want to kiss him one last time, fearing this is it for the both of you, but you opt for a hug instead. His arms holding you close, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in one last time.

“Good night Dave.” Emotions high but you do your best to keep them hidden until you’re in the safety of your car.

“Night.” A subtle nod to you as you approach your car.

The drive home is bleak, ending a long time friendship and then turning down the man you’ve been in love with can conjure up a lot of emotions.

Time will tell whether you made the right decision.

Several Months Later…

Your work life has been hectic to say the least. But it’s kept your mind busy following that evening at the York’s house.

You hadn’t heard from Carol since that night, and you can only assume she thinks you told Dave which prompted his filing for divorce.

You wish you could say you were sad to lose your friend, but the truth is you feel lighter with out her in your life. You didn’t realize how miserable you were and how much she had made you feel unworthy of so many things in your life.

It felt like a blessing in disguise.

Then there was Dave. You hadn’t seen him either since leaving his home. You’d replayed that evening in the kitchen over and over again, which made you long for more than you should have. You’d both let feelings get in the way of what was right, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t wish things were different.

You think of him often as you go about your days and hope he’s doing well.

“Hi, what can I get you.” The sweet barista asks as you walk up to the counter in your neighborhood coffee shop.

“I’ll take a Latte with an extra shot and an everything bagel, to go please.” You have a few meetings today, so you need as much energy as possible.

“That’ll be $10.50.”

You begin to dig out your wallet to pay, only to realize you’d forgotten your wallet at home on the counter where you were paying bills last night.

“Shit! I—I forgot my wallet at home. I’m sorry, you can cancel—“

“Here. You can add it to my order.” A stranger with an oddly familiar voice steps up and hands the barista his credit card. “I’ll take an Americano and the same bagel order.”

As you go to thank the man for the kind gesture, you realize that this stranger is not in fact a stranger.

“Dave?”

“Hey!” His smile seems brighter and more relaxed. “How are you?”

“I’m— I’ve been good. How have you been?” You stammer over your words a bit, he was the last person you were expecting to see this morning.

“Can’t complain really. Work is, work and being a single divorcee isn’t all that bad.”

“Hmm. Single?” You try to contain yourself, but you’re just slightly giddy at his singleness.

“Yeah. Officially for about a month.”

“Congratulations— I think.” That makes him laugh.

“Thanks. Hey, do you want to sit for a bit.” Pointing over to an open table. “If you have time, I don’t want to interrupt your day.”

You glance down at your watch, your first meeting isn’t for 2 hours. You smile, grateful for your scheduling for the day.

“Yeah. I have plenty of time.”

#Dave York #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #dave york x you #pedro pascal #wildemaven writes

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