#the hand catches up. and then it falls behind again. and then it catches up. it's cyclical.

[cerisereids]

a/n: tobias hankel when i catch you… (divider from @reveriesources !!)

warnings: extreme angst, it’s hurt/comfort but it’s rly sad, basic spencer trauma, blood, showering together but it isn’t sexual, i watched the tobias hankel eps and i just wanna comfort him so here this is

going home with spencer reid after the team figures out where tobias hankel had taken him. once he’s been medically examined, he’s wrapped up in a jacket, tucked under your arm in the backseat of the suburban. he’s trembling under your touch, and you muster every last bit of your courage not to break down. you’re determined to be strong for him, he needs it.

it’s normally him cradling you like this, especially after tough cases, in your bed, or the couch, or even in the conference room if you can sneak a moment alone. it’s not to say that you’re weak, you’re just a bit more outwardly emotional than spencer. maybe a lot more outwardly emotional. it’s a hard job. it’s an impossible one right now, as you sit there, cradling your man as he shivers in your arms.

you’re practically on top of him, your arms coiled around his neck while your legs sling over his lap. his arms squeeze your waist, weak, deft fingers leave wobbly imprints on your plush skin, like he was trying to absorb you through his fingertips. your fingernails gently scrape his scalp, your body on overdrive as you so desperately try to comfort him, to calm him. anything to stop this godawful shaking you don’t think your heart can handle it much longer.

“i’m sorry…” your head snaps up at the sound of his voice, your heart dropping to your stomach.

“spencer?” you struggle to find your breath as his name passes your lips, your voice is hoarse from crying.

“i’m sorry…” he whines in a far off tone, eyes half shut, “imsorryimsorryimsorry-”

“spencer!” you cut him off, cradling his jaw in your hands as you get him to look at you, lightly tapping his face to force his eyes open, “spencer, it’s me. you’re safe.”

you see it in his eyes when it clicks, when he sees you. the relief is palpable, it’s contagious. you stay in each other’s arms the entire ride home. the second you get in the elevator of his apartment building, he breaks. he collapses into you, a sob escaping his lips.

“oh, spencer,” you gasp out, lightly kissing his lips, testing the waters.

“i thought of you the whole time,” he sobs, kissing you again, deeper this time. you move in time with each other until the ding of the elevator breaks you apart.

your heart just aches at the sight of him. his brows are furrowed, his eyes screwed shut as tears flow like a waterfall down his sweet, sweet face. you hastily wipe at his wet cheeks, it’s the closest thing you have to being able to take his pain away.

“i thought of you, an-and my mom,” he chokes out even more sobs at the acknowledgment of diana, and you kiss his salty cheek as you prepare him to exit the elevator.

he takes a deep breath to try and quiet his sobs as you walk through the hall to his apartment. he all but falls through the door, just barely holding himself up on the side table next to the entrance. you hastily wrap your arms around his middle from behind, cuddling into him when he relaxes in your hold.

“let’s get you in the shower, then you can sleep. okay?” you whisper, your cheek pressed to his back.

“okay,” he mumbles, and his garbled tone breaks you even more, which you didn’t even realize was possible.

once you’re both under the hot stream, you dedicate yourself to soothing him. you rub some of your body butter up and down his arms, along his back, massaging the skin until his muscles begin to relax. little whimpers slip past his lips as he loosens up under your touch, and it makes you feel on top of the world.

you revel in the pure intimacy of the moment- grasping for silver linings like they’re needles in haystacks- as you stand here, washing the lotion off his reddened and bruised skin. you catch a glimpse of the blood stained water swirling the drain, and you almost lose your composure. you falter in his arms, just a tad, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as your eyes glass over.

“hey,” spencer whispers, oh so soothingly. he takes the body butter from the shower rack and dips his fingers in. the cold lotion on his deft fingers massages into your skin, and you finally let your eyes fall shut, “you were so brave for me today, hm? hotch told me all about it.”

the fact that he’s trying to comfort you is the trigger that unleashes the waterfall of tears you’ve held in since late that afternoon. memories of being in that godforsaken house flashes through your mind- seeing spencer so scared and frail on that computer screen, the adrenaline of sheer panic bursting from you like a fireball, hotch having to carry you from the room, your white knuckle grip on the kitchen table, the violent chattering of your teeth as you sobbed and heaved.

“i’m sorry, i need to stop,” you bury your face in your hands, desperately wiping at your tears as if the past 24 hours could wipe away with them.

“what? no you don’t,” he states matter of factly, “why did you say that, honey?” his brows are furrowed, and he looks so earnest, so unbelievably spencer. a small ray of light shines through the cracks in your heart, you just adore him.

you smile weakly, “becaaaauuuuseeee, my love,” you nudge him as you whine, almost childlike, “i want to be here for you. i need to be here with you, to make you feel better. i can’t do that if i’m blubbering like a whale!” you let out a wet gasp and turn your face into spencer’s large hand that’s cradling it.

“i don’t care what you’re saying,” he whispers out breathlessly, planting a sloppy kiss to your lips, “i don’t care what you’re doing,” another kiss, his hands roaming hastily around your body, like he needs help believing you’re real, “just as long as you’re here,” kiss, “as long as i have you, i’ll be okay. we both went through it, honey. cry it out, we’ll get through this together,” his voice breaks at that last word, and you grab him by the cheeks for a desperate, messy kiss.

you spend a few minutes like that, his lips devouring yours, tears streaming down both your cheeks. the messy, desperate press of his plump lips on yours is enough to erase the horrors of your day, just for a moment. he’s always had the power to do that to you, to make you feel like you’re on a different planet when you’re with him, no matter what is going on.

when you break apart, you press your forehead to his and attempt to regulate your breathing. he follows suit, so you grab his shampoo and work your fingers through his scalp. you’re so gentle, scrubbing lightly along his scalp to shed the dirt and grime from his hair. you study his every move, especially the way his head tilts back slightly as you scrub, eyes falling shut. he lets out a low string of air when you move his head under the stream of water, and you can’t help but plant a kiss to his sudsy neck.

once you lathered his body with just as much love and tenderness, and he so eagerly returned the favor, you two were finally ready to sleep in each other’s arms. you hand him your fluffiest towel, and allow him time to dry off before you insist on moisturizing him before bed. he whines about it at first, a small little pout forming on his split lip. you kiss it, and it curls upward in a cheeky smirk.

“your skin needs it,” you promise, “plus, i kind of just want to touch all over you,” you wiggle your eyebrows flirtatiously. your first genuine smile all day appears on your lips at the blush on his cheeks. you never get tired seeing the effect you have on him. just like you did in the shower, you tenderly massage lotion into his skin, also applying an antiseptic to any minor scrapes or cuts, kissing them when he hisses at the sting.

you sit him down on the bed when you get back to your room, and grab a fresh pair of pajamas for him. he brings you between his legs, fingers intertwining with yours. “i love you,” he murmurs, and you smile.

“i love you more,” you reply against his lips, placing a quick kiss to them after, “let’s go to bed my love, let me hold you while you fall asleep, hm?”

you knew he could never say no to that.

#this was so sad idk why this came from me #once again this wasn’t proofread #bon appetite #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader

[brainrot-of-a-thot]

Hello! Could I request some fluff?

If you would, could you write this for Suo, Umemyia and Togame?

What is something that their crush does that makes them short circuit? Like something that makes fall even hard, that makes them exe.stopped moment please?

Thank you!

cuteness overload.

or, sometimes you’re just too cute, featuring: jo togame, hajime umemiya, suo hayato

a/n: uwu fluff i love fluff~ makes me feel so giddy when I write it. suo’s is actually kinda long wtf it’s a blurb damnit

c/w: fem!reader, crushes, fluff, pining?, headcanon blurb format, language, soft!boys, lovey dovey~

note: also, thank y’all so so much for 150+ followers. like that’s just insane, gwaaaaah. it’s like my blog grew overnight and I just ToT!! thank you thank you thank you!!! it’s all thanks to you sexy babes!!

jo togame is absolutely enamored by the way you have to look up at him to talk to him.

it’s a consistent thing you do — you pretty much have to, considering the height difference between you two. but it never fails to make his heart skip a beat.

but, of course, you have to make it a thousand times cuter by adding your own little quirks to it; such as bouncing on the balls of your feet, or standing up on your tippy toes to ‘reach him better’, or the cute little head tilts you do when you ask a question or couldn’t quite catch his words.

but what stalled his engines, killed his brain process, and completely rewired his chemical balance was the day you surged your hands up to pull him down into a chaste kiss. even with him slightly bent to reach you, you still stood on your very tippy toes to slot your lips to his in the most comfortable way.

it lasted all of two seconds, but it was enough to leave togame feeling giddy about it for months after — and even after experiencing it hundreds of times within those few months, it still made his brain short circuit when it happened.

hajime umemiya simply adores the way you try to keep up with him.

he’s got long legs, and it’s all too easy for him to scale many feet with just a few steps — but for you, it’s an endurance battle. even umemiya’s casual strides seem more like a dash, and your legs have to work overtime to keep up with him.

he doesn’t mean to be cruel or unsympathetic; he just can’t hold back his urges at times. umemiya always feels warm when he ‘accidentally’ leaves you in the dust and you scramble to catch up to him, a pout on your lips as you loop your arms around his and force him to match your pace. it makes him feel wanted and needed — and when he’s wanted and needed by you, it’s a feeling akin to heaven.

but the day that all came to a stop was the same day that you caused him to short circuit.

umemiya was doing the same thing he normally did (usually at least once each day) and you reacted in the same way that you had each and every time; except when you looked up at him, you weren’t wearing your signature pout — instead, your brows were scrunched up and your eyes welled with fat tears.

“ume, don’t leave me behind again…” you whisper-croaked, and umemiya was torn in half by the sudden onslaught of ‘oh, no’ and ‘too cute’ that ravaged his brain.

it was cute because you were so distraught by the idea of him leaving you behind, but it was also terrible because you were so distraught by the idea of him leaving you behind.

after that, umemiya never walked ahead of you — he always walked beside you, or behind you; but never ahead.

suo hayato had never entertained the idea of falling in love. it wasn’t that he was objective to it; he figured that at some point it would happen, and he’d just roll with it when it did. but he certainly didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

suo couldn’t quite help it, though. you were a magnetic force, bubbly and sweet and outgoing. you didn’t know a stranger, and showing affection was just second nature to you. you had this (slightly irritating) ability to make someone feel like they were the center of the universe when you interacted with them — and left them feeling incredibly jealous when you did so with another person (or maybe that was just suo who felt that way.)

but what suo loved the most about you was your enthusiastic optimism towards the future. your views on that were a near contrast to suo’s; suo preferred to live in the present, leave the past behind, and simply wait for the future. he felt that focusing too much on the past or the future would take away the sensation of being in the present, so he blocked both of them out in order to fully immerse himself into where he was now.

but you… you talked about the future constantly. passionately. and, contrary to most people who daydreamed about the future, you strived in your present to secure that future you were so passionate about. suo would listen to you ramble for hours on end, never losing interest or falling tired — your voice was simply magnificent.

and that was what he was doing on that particular day, sitting across from you in a quaint little resto-cafe, chin in palm and slowly stirring his quickly cooling coffee as you rambled. you were talking about interior design, something you were highly fervid about, when you said the words that made his heart skip a beat.

“…and I think we should open a tea-house together. I mean, your tea-steeping skills are amazing, and with my eye for design, we could get really popular!”

you were still rambling, but suo had stopped listening. not that he wanted to stop listening — but his mind was stuck on a loop right now.

we. we. we.

you’d spoke of the future many times, but that was the first time you’d included him in it. suo’s heart was completely palpitating in his chest, snippets of a future with you crashing into one another while that little word repeated itself in his mind — courting — we — dates, — we —, buying a house, marriage, kids…

it all splayed across his mind like a movie reel, and before suo could put much conscious thought behind it, he was smiling at you and whole-heartedly agreeing to your idea.

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #windbreaker #windbreaker x reader #jo togame x reader #hajime umemiya x reader #hayato suo x reader

[likedovesinthewindd]

Ex bf art donaldson seeing reader for the first time in a decade and forgetting the meaning of personal space. That man would not take his baby dear eyes and manly hands of you until you fall for his submissive aura.

I'm actually going crazy wtff I'm obsessed!!!

He's the last person you had expected to see in a place like this, but you'd suppose you would've never imagined yourself in a place like this either. Loneliness drove people to strange places, it seemed.

He looked good. He still looked good. He's visually grown and matured, no longer the coy college boy but a refined man, yet he still looked boyish when he smiled or laughed. It warmed you to see he hadn't lost that light behind his eyes after all these years – life could be cruel, after all. You had half a mind to ask him how Tashi was doing, but the slight tan line on his finger being the only indicator of said marriage told you to leave the subject unscathed for now.

You didn't say anything when he chose to move in next to you in the booth instead of across, or when he insisted on buying you a drink, or when he looked at you as if you had been the answer to an unheard prayer. You didn't say anything because you, in return, had relished in the feeling of being seen, desired after so long.

He talked about how he's retired now, about how much happier he's been since he put the racket down and about his daughter, and you listened dutifully, watching his eyes lit up in that same boyish way when he talked about about Lily.

In return, he asked you about your life and what you've doing, all while his thumb rubbed over the top of the hand grasped in his. "We probably look like some happy couple to other people right now," you had commented, looking down at your hand clasped in his but making no move to pull it away. He had laughed, thumb still across your skin, and replied with a huffed, "yeah, we probably do." Not pulling his hand away either.

It was so strange to you; after all these years things still felt so natural with him. A part of you still wanted to be bitter about the way things had ended back then, but you couldn't find it in you to be. Not when it still felt so right.

"What?" you asked after a silence a little too long. He just smiled, and your chest clenched at the sight. "I'm really glad we found each other again," he replied softly, almost too soft for the noisy atmosphere of the bar. You wouldn't be able to hear anything anyway with the way your heart was beating in your ear at his words.

The two of you sat like this for hours, catching up and laughing at each other's awful jokes until you realized how late it had gotten. He offered you a ride home which you had accepted gratefully, and now as tge both of you stood infront of your door, you wished the night didn't have to end. You weren't even sure of you would see him again.

It was great seeing you again, Art. Thank you," you spoke as you opened your arms in an offered hug which he accepted gladly. Your arms wrapped around each other, your hands rubbing against his back and taking the moment to savour his cologne. He still managed to smell the same, and you nearly sobbed at the thought.

You pulled away from him with a sigh, finding a pensive expression on his face. "You okay?" you asked. The furrow in his brows relaxed slightly before he answered. "Yeah, it's just," he breathed before continuing, "I think that's the most intimate thing I've experienced in a while."

His confession hit you like a ton of bricks, and you hadn't realized you hadn't said anything until he spoke up again. "That makes me sound a loser."

You laughed at that, not because you agreed but because there wasn't a world where you could think Art was a loser. He could be a total washout, the worst tennis player on the ranking, and you'd still think highly of him.

"I don't think you're a loser, Art," you told him as your hands rested on the sides of his face, taking a moment to appreciate his pretty face. Still as pretty and sweet and funny as all those years ago.

The kiss felt like a reunion between two hearts. Like this very moment had been exactly what you had been looking for for the last ten plus years. It felt like home, and when you pulled away, you felt homesick.

He rested his forehead against yours, breathing in the moment before his head lifted to kiss your forehead. You couldn't help but smile. You were finally home.

#challengers #challengers x reader #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson #likedovesinthewindd

[icallhimjoey]

i really loved the magic of joe hanging out in the bookstore, being his anonymous little self, just reading a book in his armchair, happy to be allowed a warm beverage...................... can we have more of him?

jfc stab me where im softest, why dont you Wordcount: 2.1K

---

Little Spoon Reversed

"Please, before you leave," you spoke to Anne who slung an arm into her jean jacket. "Never forget your headphones ever again, please?"

You couldn't finish the question without laughing already. It earned an eye roll from Anne, who then turned to Joe who was sat in his armchair, book in his lap, but eyes on the two of you.

For a short moment Anne gave Joe a look as if to say, this bitch, am I right? But then before she fully committed, she remembered that Joe would likely take your side on this, like he would take your side on... well, anything, basically.

"I'm aware you don't enjoy... people, but–"

"If I can follow your whole conversation about how you enjoy being a little spoon over being a big spoon, you're talking too loud to be allowed on public transport." Anne stated matter of factly.

She stared into space a second and the shuddered. Joe gave you a look of wild concern, smile playing just underneath, and you laughed.

Anne was being Anne and you loved her, and Joe was being Joe and... well.

You liked Joe.

Joe was funny.

Joe made you laugh.

And Joe looked nice. Sat there.

He looked nice sitting there, in your bookstore.

He just... he did.

All soft.

Hair unstyled. Clothes mismatched. Blue of his denim jacket somehow doing something for the colour of his skin.

Nice. Joe looked nice.

The look of him kind of completed the room just by sitting his ass down in your granddad's armchair. You'd make him a coffee in a second. Keep him there for longer.

When Anne turned to look at him, he immediately dropped the facial expression and just gave her a tiny nod. Dryly said, "Nice jacket." which made her notice how they were both wearing a similar one.

Anne scrunched her nose to that, absolutely grossed out by it.

Joe gave you a small smirk that Anne pretended she didn't catch.

"Headphones!" you made big eyes at her, and she dismissed it with a wave of her hand as she turned to leave the store.

Anne's neutral was already negative to begin with, but when she'd walked in that morning, she'd basically carried thunder in her aura and you'd had to stick her in the back to do admin because she couldn't stop going on about her bad morning.

You couldn't take it too seriously though; the reason her morning had been bad was because she had to listen to people talk on a bus.

She was fine.

But Anne was Anne, and after a very ranty first thirty minutes of her shift, throughout the rest of day she would have moments where she'd suddenly shudder, grimace and mutter "Little spoon," under her breath, like it was the most disgusting thing she'd ever heard people talk about in public.

Intimacy? Vile.

You and Joe shared knowing smiles, and Anne already had one foot out the door when Joe called her back.

"Hey, Anne?"

She paused, barely turned her head, and waited for Joe to talk.

"Which one are you?"

Joe saw her frown in confusion, which only made his smirk grow. He was about to piss her off so bad.

"Big spoon or little spoon?"

He was right. You barked a loud laugh as Anne raised her middle finger up at him before the door shut behind her.

"She's so lovely." Joe smiled, and that only made you laugh more as you found your spot behind the counter.

You were never going to tire of how bitchy Joe and Anne could be to each other, all bark no bite.

"She really is." you agreed, laughter turning into a sigh, eyes falling onto clutter left beside the till.

You had work to do; there were piles of books that needed to find their way onto display tables and up onto shelves.

Your eyes flickered from work to Joe, and you noticed he was still looking at you. Sort of dopily staring, still grinning. You liked that denim jacket on him.

Joe looked good.

"What are you reading?"

Joe's eyes lingered on you a moment longer before he fully registered that you'd asked him a question.

"Oh!" he seemed startled by the book in his lap, like he'd forgotten his hands had been holding onto it for the brief moment of distraction. He lifted it up to show you the cover.

You knew what he was reading already, but any excuse for some small talk whilst you sorted through some paperbacks.

"Do you like it?"

"Yea, actually... it's good, it's– it's... relatable? Even though it's not, because none of these things have ever happened to me, but, you know what I mean? Like, I–, I don't know, I get it, I guess... it's... it's just, it's interesting."

Joe stumbled through finding the right words to tell you that, simply, the writing was good, and it made you purse a smile as you sorted through some novels.

"That's good," you stuck a pile of books under an arm. "I'm glad you like it."

"Yea," Joe said, eyes on a page that he then turned, scanning his eyes over the words, but not reading any of them. He was glad he liked it too, but even if the book hadn't been as enjoyable to read as this one was, he still would've enjoyed his time there just the same. It was never about the books for him.

Which was why it was so easy to put it down when he saw you getting ready to climb up a ladder with an armful of them.

He didn't even have to say anything.

Just put his book down on the small sidetable, got up and walked over, hands already held out to take the pile of books from you.

"Sorry," you said, like this was an inconvenience to Joe.

It wasn't.

Joe got to be close to you, fingertips grazing the skin of your arm as he helped you out. Got your hands free so you could actually hold onto the ladder. Safety first.

"I should've maybe done this whilst Anne was still in."

And then he got a close look at your ass as you ascended the ladder just next to him, which wasn't his fault, mind you. You literally hauled it up right into his line of sight.

It had never been about the books for him.

"Are these new ones?" Joe turned his head to read the title of the book on top of the pile before picking it up and handing it to your awaiting open palm.

"No, just ones people take down to have a look at and then leave around. Thanks."

Joe did that a lot.

"Sorry." he said jokingly, taking all blame for the mess.

That made you laugh.

"That's okay. Part of running a bookstore."

It was quiet then for a moment. Just Joe handing you books that you put back into their places. When he passed you the last one, you were about to climb down, but Joe decided he could help for a little longer.

"These ones too?" he rounded the counter like he wasn't allowed to step behind it and pointed at another stack of them.

"Yea," you smiled. "Thanks."

You'd gone well past feeling uncomfortable for accepting a little bit of Joe's help. Joe knew his place when Anne was in, or when there were other customers browsing, but when it was just the two of you inside these shelf-cladded walls, Joe could lend a hand.

You'd tell yourself it was just Joe being nice because you gave him a lot of free coffee.

Joe knew better.

"So, what about you?"

"Hmm?"

You looked down from your spot up on the ladder, and saw how Joe read the title of the book he was about to give you before he outstretched his arm and made eye-contact.

"Big spoon or little spoon?"

Your fingers grazed as you took the book from him and you nearly let a smile escape you, but Joe wasn't smiling and dressed it as casual, but serious question. Like he genuinely wanted to know.

"Um," you pretended to give it a good think. "I'll go for... little spoon I guess."

It helped that you got to faff around with a bunch of paperbacks on a shelf and didn't have to look him in the eye when you asked, "You?"

"Oh," Joe said, frowning like the answer was obvious. "I'm a big fan of both."

This was information that you couldn't Google.

You kind of loved it.

"Yea?"

Another book got passed.

"Oh yea, sometimes, you want to cuddle someone. Other times you want to be cuddled, you know?"

If Anne had still been in, she'd have made a request for someone to shoot her by now.

"Well," you started, feeling brave. "Can I introduce you to," you paused for effect. "Little spoon reversed?"

You were about to reach down for the book Joe was holding up, but he slowly lowered it, staring up at you with big bulging eyes.

"Little spoon what?"

"Reversed." you easily said, smiling and taking a step down to grab the book from Joe's hands.

"Please elaborate." Joe acted like you'd just told him the most shocking piece of information ever.

"It's all in the word. It's being the little spoon," you held up two cupped hands, one turned so the back rested in the other's palm and then turned one, so your palms faced each other. "But reversed."

Joe looked a little mesmerized.

You shrugged and dropped your hands. "Best of both worlds."

"Best of both worlds..." Joe repeated. "Huh."

"You get to hug and be hugged," you said, holding a hand open for another book.

Joe stared into space as he passed it. Thinking.

"Kind of... equal spoons, then," he mused.

"Well, no. Not exactly. There's still a big spoon and a little spoon."

You glanced down and smiled at how Joe seemed to be honestly interested, not at all making fun or being silly about this topic. He was learning.

"Please, elaborate."

"The little spoon is whoever gets to press their face into the neck of the other. Of the big spoon."

Joe's knees nearly gave out at that. It was a crime how casually you'd just said that.

"Yea... no, yea." Joe cleared his throat. "That makes sense."

The bell above the door rang, and you both turned your heads like you'd just been caught doing something you shouldn't be doing. Which was exactly right. Joe didn't work there, you had no business having him help you out like this.

"Good afternoon!" you cheerily exclaimed at the customer that had just walked in, and accepted the last book from Joe's hands.

Joe felt a little silly with how he felt his neck flush at the thought of having you in his bed to cuddle up with. Have your face pressed into the crook of his neck. Or, worse - have his face pressed right into yours.

God.

He was fantasizing about cuddling, getting all hot and bothered.

Was he fourteen years old?

You gave the shelf in front of you a last look before making your way back to the floorboards, ladder held sturdy in place by Joe's hands, and when you were back at eye level, you gave Joe a nod and a smile.

"So...? If you had to choose one?"

Joe tried to hide a smile and looked at his feet for a moment.

"Big spoon or little spooon?"

"I think you've sold me on little spoon reversed."

"Yea?"

"Best of both worlds." Joe said proudly, like he was the one who'd drawn that conclusion himself.

"Hmm. It's a good choice."

"Yea?"

"Yea."

You looked at each other a moment too long, both still with hands on the ladder you were stood next to. In a true moment of weakness, you let your eyes flick down to his neck. To the skin in between the collar of his jacket and, yea all right, so you were imagining it. Like that was your fault. How could you not, exactly?

You saw Joe's throat work as he swallowed, and when your eyes moved back up to meet his, something had changed there.

Maybe Joe shouldn't wear that jacket again, because you felt how your body wanted to sway forward.

Little spoon reversed.

A loud scraping of someone's throat broke the spell.

"Excuse me, um, do you work here?"

Joe smirked just before you pulled your eyes away from him.

Little spoon reversed.

"Yes ma'am, how can I help you?"

---

The Taglisted

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taglist currently full, sorry

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x reader #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x Y/N #joe quinn x Y/N #icallhimjoey #bookstore!joe #like a poem #little spoon reversed

[capquinn]

Still The Same | Q. Hughes

summary: it’s the day after the canucks playoff elimination and quinn doesn’t want to think about it at all. based upon this quote from quinny's year-end interview :(

pairing: fem!reader x quinn hughes

content: fluff, v mild smut but mainly hot and heavy kissing, sorta sad quinn

word count: 987

note: this came to me at 2am last night so its scattered and a lil wordy and doesn't have v much dialogue but nonetheless here it is. godspeed! <3

___

It’s still the same sun shining through the kitchen window.

It’s still the same hazy sky.

Still the same city with the same bustling streets and his same apartment with the same smells and the same comforts.

The world hasn’t ended.

There is still the same familiar embrace that comes from behind when he stands over the coffee machine bleary eyed and trying to keep his mind from wondering. The same squeeze around his middle and the same kiss to his shoulder.

“You OK?” You whisper, following his lead as he shuffles around and brings you close to his chest. Strong arms circle around you and hands rest splayed against the small of your back.

Still the same person he always wants and needs staring back at him. Still the same eyes and pouting lips. The same hands rubbing his back in the same circular motions. The same smell of vanilla body soap and floral laundry detergent that always reminds him of home.

The world hasn’t ended, he reminds himself. The other team were better and his team was eliminated but things could be worse and life goes on. At least the world hasn’t ended.

Everything is still here.

Quinn shakes his head and buries his face in the crook of your neck. “Don’t wanna talk about it,” he mumbles. “Don’t even wanna think about it.”

And the same as always, you take care of him.

After breakfast, you’re both curled up in the same spot on the sofa watching the same comfort movie that you always let him pick just so he didn’t catch a glimpse of the news.

“I won’t fall asleep this time,” he promises, laying his head down in your lap.

You roll your eyes and give him a knowing look, and just as he always did, he smiles sheepishly because, yeah, even he knows it’s a lie.

But there’s the same anxious bouncing of his leg and the same pursed lips as he bites the inside of his cheek that lets you know he’s less than okay.

“Hey,” you murmur softly, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “I love you.”

The world hasn’t ended, he tells himself and relaxes into your body again.

There are still the same fingers carding through his hair lulling him into oblivion and the same slow breaths when he finally falls asleep.

He’s not thinking about hockey so you let him sleep for as long as he needs. 

After he wakes, you beg him to teach you the same card game you are never able to comprehend because you know he is unable to resist a challenge and it ends the same way it always does.

“Baby,” he groans. Same bewildered blue eyes fixing you in a stare.

Your inability to grasp the concept frustrates him beyond belief, and it doesn’t help matters when you’re laughing every time he sighs and mumbles when you get the rules wrong each and every round which makes it difficult for him to stay mad with you. After all, he’s still the same lovesick man.

“How aren’t you getting this? Can you be serious for a second? You need to create groups of three of a kind—,”

“I don’t even know what that means,” you cut him short.

“Well if you stop interrupting me you’ll find out,” he tells you, exasperated. It’s still the same bickering.

The world hasn’t ended, and he bites back a smile.

Fuelled by sheer determination, he reiterates the same rules and is even kind enough to demonstrate it all again but when you repeat the rules back wrong for the hundredth time and interrupt the game with the same bout of laughter…

“You’re lucky I love you,” he tells you as he packs away the deck of cards, finally admitting defeat. But he hadn’t thought about hockey so it wasn’t all bad.

And it’s still the same agonising existential dread that keeps him up at night. The same bouncing leg that wakes you. The same tossing and turning. The same sighs and deep breaths. If you didn’t know any better, you would have believed he was doing it on purpose.

You mould your body around his and everything falls back into place. The hurt starts to leave the room.

The world hasn't ended.

Quinn wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Sorry,” he whispers hoarsely, hand nestling in your hair. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I wish you would,” you tell him, desperate to be there for him in any way that he needs.

When he doesn’t respond, you’re angling your body enough so you can search his eyes for a truth. Quinn pushes the hair out of your face and cups your cheek in his hand. A thumb brushes over your pouting bottom lip. He’s unwilling to say anything at all and he hopes you don’t ask him to either.

But you’re still the same woman with the same ginormous heart that worries about him.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

He shakes his head. “Not yet,” he mumbles, and cranes his neck to kiss you with the same passion as always. And so the same butterflies flutter around in his stomach and the same hammering of his heart in his chest returns.

He’s kissing you slowly, pillowy lips savouring every moment. Cold hands wander over too hot skin as Quinn drags you closer and now you’re straddling his waist, clawing at the hem of the cotton that covers his body, and when your hands meet his bare shoulders, he finally pulls his lips away from yours. You muffle a moan and paw at his back, trying to pull him closer against you again. He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth and pecks your cheek until his head dips to place spongy kisses against your neck, tongue swirling against milky skin.

Your fingers curl around the hair at the base of his neck. “God,” you moan. “I love you.”

Having almost succumbed to despair, he’s reminded that the world hasn’t ended.

#ugh i just love the allstar quinn content bc he was the embodiment of cosy <3 #but ofc this is post-playoff elim #and this is how i envision him during this <3 #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #fem!reader x quinn hughes #hockey fic #my writing

[philistiniphagottini]

Helloo! Hope you are having an amazing day!

Are you taking requests for the domestic prompts? If so, could write jing yuan taking care of sick reader?

Take your time and have a wonderful day 😊

Hi! Yes, I'm still taking requests for Domestic Bliss. Thanks for dropping by, I hope you like this.

cw. fluff, female reader

Domestic Bliss

You awoke in the middle of the night to a searing headache throbbing behind your eyes. With a soft groan falling from your parted lips you sat up in bed, the blankets falling off your shoulders and pooling into your lap. You slowly peeled your eyes open, squinting into the darkness as your headache grew worse, your pulse droning in your ears like the loud beat of a drum. You swallowed thickly, immediately regretting the decision as it felt like shards of broken glass were sliding down your throat, sticking like barbs as a horrible cough wracked your entire being. The bout made you groan again, head spinning as it felt like you were going to cough your lung up. Your stomach felt uneasy and the throb behind your eyes was telling you that you were going to throw up.

Your partner finally stirred beside you as a miserable whimper crawled out of your throat, nose starting to run and throat itching like you had been bitten by a thousand, angry fleas. Jing Yuan slowly sat up, hand blindly groping the night stand until the little bedside lamp flickered on. The light did little to soothe the terrible ache of your eyes, only making the strain worse as your eyes threatened to slip close. You felt the heat of his bare skin as his arm circled around your back, the palm of his hand coming to rest on your thigh as he rubbed along your leg.

“Dearest, what's wrong?” Jing Yuan asked, his voice raspy with sleep.

You sniffled, your nose already starting to clog up as your oncoming sickness started to get worse. The heat of Jing Yuan's body was almost stifling pressed against your side, your body heat coming to a slow simmer as your head continued to spin. You had to swallow the rising bile in your throat as it burned like Hell.

“I'm going to be sick” you said.

Jing Yuan yawned, blinking owlishly at you as a soft hum bubbled in his chest.

“Hm?”

You really needed to get to the bathroom. Without a second thought you threw the blankets off of you, untangling yourself from the sea of fluffy blankets as you stumbled your way to the bathroom. Jing Yuan was quick to jump to his feet when he realised that you were serious, his mind quickly turning and waking him up. You almost tripped over your own feet, managing to catch yourself on the door frame as you hung off of it. Jing Yuan was only a few steps behind you and you were quick to raise your hand and dismiss him.

“Don't come in” you warned.

You really didn't want Jing Yuan to witness what was about to occur. He held up his hands to placate you, a soft smile tugging on his lips.

“It's nothing I haven't seen before” he mentioned.

He had already seen many sides of you. This one would make no difference.

“You can check on me if I don't come back in a few minutes” you argued.

Jing Yuan didn't want to relent, but he yielded when he noticed the miserable look in your eyes and the way your nose scrunched up as you pleaded with him. A small sigh blew past his lips.

“Okay.”

You offered him a small smile as you thanked him, letting yourself into the bathroom and shutting yourself inside. While you were in there, Jing Yuan decided to busy himself with fetching the pain medications and a glass of water. He found them in the usual spot, in the small cabinet in the kitchen above the fridge. Once he had fetched them and a glass of water he made his way back to your shared bedroom. By the time he had arrived back from his small journey, you were fumbling your way out of the bathroom. You really didn't look any better and the dark circles under your eyes made you look even more sickly. With a weary sigh you trudged your way back to the bed, collapsing back into the nest of blankets as you crawled under the sheets. Jing Yuan placed the items he was carrying on the bedside table and helped tuck you back in, your voice scratching your throat as you thanked him again for his help.

“Do you feel any better?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No.”

Jing Yuan slid back into bed, coming to cuddle up to you as his strong body naturally curled protectively around you. Your sudden sickness had caught him by surprise. You were fine a few short hours ago when you both retired for the night. Perhaps a little more tired than you usually were, but nothing out of the ordinary. Jing Yuan made sure you had your medicine and that you were laying back down before he switched the lamp off. He settled in beside you, arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you tight against him. The silence lasted for no more than ten seconds before you stirred again. You suddenly shot up in bed, a disgruntled noise rumbling in your chest as you shook your head.

“Nope, laying down hurts more” you said.

Jing Yuan rolled over and switched the lamp back on again. He slowly sat up as you started to rub your temples, eye struggling to stay open as the tips of your fingers grew numb.

“Does sitting up feel better?” Jing Yuan asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, a little.”

Without another word he started to stack the pillows behind you, moving himself until he was sitting directly behind you. You faintly heard the bedroom door creak as it was nudged open by a fluffy, white snout. Mimi’s nostrils twitched as she languidly strolled into the room, her bright eyes glowing in the dim light as she stalked closer to the bed. A soft meow stirred in her throat as Jing Yuan pulled your trembling body against his, wrapping both his arms around your waist as he held you close to his chest. You were now shaking like a wet leaf and you could just feel your flu symptoms getting worse. A soft smile tilted your lips aa Mimi decided to pounce onto the bed, the mattress creaking in protest from her sudden weight.

“Mimi” Jing Yuan cooed, “Have you come to check on our sweet girl?”

A noise akin to a purr rumbled in the hollow of her throat as Mimi flopped down in front of you, spreading herself over your lap as she lay her head on your torso. You appreciated the gesture. Mimi always knew when you were sick and the loin would always come and check on you to make sure you were okay. You wrapped your arms around her thick neck as you buried your face in her soft fur, placing a gentle kiss to her head as you nuzzled your face between her ears. She eagerly lapped up the attention, tail flicking idly as Jing Yuan threaded his fingers through her wild mane and petted her. Jing Yuan nudged his nose against the nape of your neck, squeezing you around the waist as he continued to soothe you.

“Looks like we'll both have to take care of her, won't we?”

You didn't have the strength to argue with Jing Yuan. If he decided that you were sick enough that he needed to be by your side, then you were terribly sick. You were crushed further under Mimi's weight as she snuggled up to you, bunting her head into the warm touch of your hands as you placed another lazy kiss between her ears. You could feel sleep tug at the edges of your mind again as your eyes slipped close. Despite the awful feeling of being sick, you could feel the affection that both held for you and it was very comforting.

“Thank you.”

#my writing #request #follower milestone #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan #hsr jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x reader #x reader #fem!reader

[harmshake]

Melt

Roman Reigns & Fem Black Reader | 18+, NSFW, fluff, a hint of birthday smut | 939 words

a/n: Just a little something I whipped up because it's his day. 😍

Happy reading! Read my other Roman stories here, if you'd like. ✨

The lights were low to let the candles on his cake be the only glow in the room. But once your husband made his wish and blew them out, you flipped all the lights back on and Roman's smile glowed even bigger. He looked down at the strawberry cake you did your best to bake, the oven behind him still hot as you had pulled the cake from it and frosted it too soon—rushing to finish it before he got home. 

His brown eyes watched the strawberry frosting as it melted and dripped down the sides of the cake and pooled on the plate it sat on, threatening to spill from the sides and onto the marble counter. You looked up at him from his side, then the cake, and then him again, seeing his eyes crinkle with that glowing smile that wobbled into a tiny laugh.

"This is beautiful," he said but then you both burst out laughing together. The candles that you wedged into the cake were slanting into the icing, flopping like your entire attempt to surprise him. You had dimmed the lights, decorated the dining table with birthday gifts, and thrown on your cutest dress and stilettos so you could hold the supposed-to-be-cute cake and greet him at the door after you made him run to the store for ice cream as a distraction to set up. You both laughed so hard at the little disaster that was your cake that a tear slipped from your eye and you wiped it away before you felt his hands cradle your face with his wide thumbs stroking your cheeks, that glowing smile spreading his cheeks as his deep voice became softer. "Baby, no, seriously. I love it. I love you."

"That's a relief. Happy birthday, baby. Love you, too." You reached your hand up to hold his as he leaned down to give you a kiss that was as soft as his tone. You didn't bake very often but when you did it usually came out edible. If only he hadn't gotten back from the store so quickly. "Guess I should run back out and get a real cake, huh? Still want strawberry?"

Roman shook his head before he swiped his pointer finger in the puddle of icing that dripped onto the marble, slipping it between his lips to taste. "Naw, this is perfect. I'mma eat it as is," he said with another dip of his finger in the goopy mess. 

"Want me to grab you a plate at least or you just gonna eat it straight from the counter?" you teased as you turned to grab a kitchen towel that hung from the oven door to clean the counter. When you tried to switch around, Roman's arms were suddenly around your waist to pin your backside to him, his bearded chin on your shoulder when you went to look at him before his lips were on yours, sweet like the frosting. "Don't tell me...you trying to eat me, too, huh?"

That made him chuckle, especially since you could feel every inch of him in his joggers as he pressed himself to you. You pushed your butt against him to make him rumble a sigh in your ear and squeeze your hips in his hands as he said, "You know I always gotta taste for you...but psssh. I thought today was my birthday."

Roman shifted you to face him then, his hands still on your hips but his eyes on your juicy lips that glistened with your lip gloss. He bit his bottom lip as you nodded, catching his drift as you caught his gaze that grew hungrier for more than cake. You rested your hands on his massive chest in his white tee shirt before you slowly let them fall to his waistband that you tugged. 

"Didn't I spoil you enough with a homemade cake?" you asked with a grin as you pulled him by his waistband to the dining room where you pushed him down into the seat at the head of the table. Roman licked his lips as he watched you sink onto your knees between his burly thighs. He didn't have to answer because you could see from the greedy look on his handsome face that he wanted to be spoiled a little more—and you wouldn't deny the birthday boy on his special day. "Better be glad I love to spoil you..."

"Don't I spoil you on your birthday?" Roman wanted to tease but all that bass in his voice simmered into a heated sigh when you ran your hands up his legs and over his thick bulge until they reached his waistband again, pulling until it and his boxer briefs settled around his ankles. 

"You sure do..." you purred as you eyed his pretty, brown, thick piece of flesh that spoiled you almost every night and extra on your birthday, studying how it twitched for you before you could even touch it. You loved the way it felt hard yet smooth in your palm when you did...and loved the way your husband stirred with another sigh when you massaged it. You couldn't wait to hear the beautiful sounds he'd make when you wrapped your lips around it. "I love you, baby."

And you knew Roman couldn't wait, either, when he cupped your chin as you kissed his head with a flick of your tongue to catch his pleasure that tried to trickle from it, making him twitch again and making you tremble to taste him melt in your mouth and down your throat... 

"Mm, you love me, baby?" Roman softly growled to you, his eyelids low with his glowing smile shifting into a seductive smirk as his thumb grazed your bottom lip. "Show Daddy how much with this pretty mouth."

.

.

.

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[indigosunsetao3]

"Don't you dare," you warn as you roll over on the the towel to look up at Gaz. He's dripping wet after having just climbed out of the water, water pooling at his feet on the bow of the boat where you have set up camp. He smirks as he flicks water at you causing you to flinch and glare at him.

"You're going to cook," he admonishes as he moves to stand next to you, blocking your sun and dripping cool salt water all over you.

"That's the goal," you answer simply as you stretch back out on your stomach. "After the last trip to the mountains and I didn't feel my toes the whole time, I deserve a little baking time."

"I'm not going to deal with you complaining about sunburn for the next four days," Gaz says with a grin as he squats down next to you.

You tilt your head back up off your hands to look at him, squinting a bit at the sun behind his head. Each droplet of water that comes off his skin onto yours is a small pinprick of cold, enough to send goosebumps along your back.

"I put on sunscreen," you scoff. "I seem to remember you taking extra care in the application," you tack on with a grin.

His hands had wandered to more than just your back where you had asked for assistance. His fingers moving to slide between your breasts and down your stomach before disappearing under your bikini. You had sweat off that whole first layer within twenty minutes without even making it out into the sun.

"When you're topless I have to make sure everything is covered," he says with a grin as his hand moves to slide down your bare back. Being on a boat, alone, in the middle of nowhere afforded you a bit more freedom.

"I think you would have done it even if I wasn't topless," you reason as you push up on your elbows to look at him. You notice how his eyes narrow in on the small glimpse you're giving him between your arms in this position.

"Can't be too safe," he argues as you laugh. "At least take a break," he reasons as he looks at your slightly flushed face.

"Fine," you say as he stares at you expectantly. You push back up on your knees and can't help but grin to yourself as his eyes track every single movement. How he pushes up onto his feet to and extends a hand to you, yet his eyes never leave your body as he moves. "I guess I could use something to drink," you state as you take his hand.

He's not listening. His eyes are devouring you as he yanks you up effortlessly. You aren't much better though, your eyes roving over his chest and stomach where water is still glistening on his skin. How the sunlight catches droplets emphasizing the hard lines of his stomach and the soft curve of his biceps as he pulls you closer.

You step to him easily, shivering as his cooler skin connects with your overheated body. His hands are not shy as he grabs your hips and yanks you tightly against him. You let your hands slide up his chest, over his shoulders and behind his neck, arching into him a bit.

He grins leaning down to kiss you, slowly letting his hands slide to your backside. You sigh into his mouth as he palms your behind, his fingers digging into the plush skin and tugging you to grind against him. You can feel his body reacting to yours pressing up against him, how your hot skin is like a match to his desire.

But the grin you feel against your lips is not that of need, but instead mischievous. And you know what he is about to do a split second before he does it. He had lured you in with his charm and goddamn abs like he always did; he knew your weaknesses too well.

You squeal as he picks you up effortlessly and takes two steps back to slip off the side of the boat. The fall is short but still enough to make your stomach swoop before you connect with the water. The temperature change makes you gasp into his mouth as he captures your lips again before you both sink below the surface.

Gaz keeps a tight grip on you as your feet gently collide with the soft sand. One of his hands at your back to keep you flush to him, the other on your leg. You let him guide the way as you gently hold at his neck before he kicks to propel you both back up. The water where you had anchored wasn't deep and you are back above the water a moment later.

"This is not what I had in mind," you say though you are laughing as you cling to him, kicking your legs lightly to help keep you afloat.

"Had to get you in the water somehow," Gaz answers lightly as he leans in to kiss you again. "Needed an excuse to rub you down all over again."

#call of duty fanfic #call of duty #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #the gift of gifs #answered asks

[unluckilyimnot]

Listen, sooo...

I just saw a really cute tiktok and what would you say about the furin boys buying flowers, a little heart and this stuff as a suprise because she/they/...(?) Often baked something for him for example and when they give the gifts to their partner they start crying but like happy tears.

Like the previous partners didnt care enough for romance and this gesture is making them like really happy.

Hope you have a nice morning/day/night ♡

Gifts - sakura, suo, nirei, umemiya

m.list | rules

Note: hiii you're the first person to ask with them I'm so happy hihi that's very very cute and I like those kinds of base thank you so much!! Suo is maybe a bit ooc I'm sorry

Sakura

Sakura spent a lot of time in front of that stupid flower shop before finally getting in and finding what he was looking for.

For the past few weeks, his mind was busy with you and all the things you do for him without getting anything in return. That's when Suo and Nirei suggested to get you flowers as a gift, to show that he cared as well.

But Sakura never had to do anything like this and he was now waiting outside your school, a few meters away from the entrance, with a small but cute bouquet.

He could feel the gaze people were sending him and did his best to ignore it, reminding himself how it's important for you, so he doesn't have to be embarrassed of it.

When he finally catches sight of you walking out, he rushes to you. Trying his hardest to hide it behind his back to surprise you. Your eyes widened when he tended to you, looking away shyly, urging you to take it already.

"For the cookies you make all the time... We all love it. And, wait hey !"

The time his eyes fell on you again, tears built up in your eyes and were almost falling down your cheeks. He almost lost his grip on the bouquet in the rush to check on you, panic rushing through his body.

Why were you crying suddenly? Wasn't it supposed to make you smile?

He felt betrayed for a second before he noticed the smile on your lips. Shaking your hand to him to try to calm him you ended up giggling at his reaction.

"It's nothing, don't worry it's beautiful !" You said, as if you read his mind. "My previous partner didn't really care... so I'm just emotional."

His face softened and he got closer, pushing it into your hands this time.

"You shouldn't cry over this. I'll get you something better next time" he speaks his mind with a blush all over his cheeks. He looked away, not bold enough to stare at you after saying something like this. And you're reminded why you fell I'm love with him.

Suo

Suo notices for sure all the efforts you put in baking, or even cooking for him, and the gentleman that he has to pay you back. And make you feel as loved as he does every time he realizes the time you spend just to make him happy.

That's why on this Saturday, he arrived at your grandparents' place for your usual date with gifts in a bag.

You smiling at him makes his life easier and he's scared he's not doing enough to show you that. Keeping your pace with you, he still greets your grandma in the living room before going to your room.

As you sit on your bed, ready to tell him to join you, he tends you the bag with both hands.

"It's for you." He smiles, taking a close look at your reaction. "For all the things you do for me."

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but seeing you crying as the emotion got complicated on your face and you opened all the small gifts he got you wasn't on the list for sure.

You mumble something he couldn't get, about your ex but that's the only words he heard. Finally taking a seat next to you, he took your hands on his while brushing away your tears.

"I didn't hear you, my dear, what did you say ?"

"My ex never cared about that, so I'm just a bit overwhelmed," you sniffed why leaning slightly in his touch. You swear you could see his eyes softened as if he was already looking at you like the most precious things in the world.

Leaning in to kiss your lips, you could feel him smile, before he rested his forehead against yours.

"I have to make it up for that then."

 Nirei

"(Name) !" You jolted in surprise by the loud voice you know too much suddenly screaming.

Nirei has been looking for you all day, not remembering you mentioned you were busy helping Kotoha today. When it came back to his mind, you were on a break, taking a coffee with her. Both of you turned surprised to him but soon smiled at his relaxed expression. He must have run around the town just to find you.

“What are you carrying Nirei ?” asked Kotoha, laying a bit more on the counter. “It seems heavy. It’s from the citizens ?”

“Not at all ! Well, part of it no.” he giggled, a small blush showing up. He walked to you who hasn't spoken a word for the moment and handed the small, white bag to you. “It’s for you !”

Your eyes widened and you looked at him as if he was some kind of alien. For you ? 

“Me ?” The look in your eyes tells him all he has to know but he only nodded at you. 

“Yep, for all the time you baked for me !” 

Carefully taking the bag, you found all types of little things, from candy, charms for your phone to a new necklace and a card with a small note on it. As you looked at all those things you like so much, you felt tears coming to your eyes, burning a little, before your eyes fell on the note. You choked on your laughter and looked up to not ruin your makeup. 

Covering your face with your hand, you finally got up to take the very much puzzled Nirei. He was probably thinking of what he had done wrong, even though you were just so happy about it. 

“Thank you so much, Nirei. I never thought you’d love it so much.”

He couldn’t bring himself to ask anything, simply holding you closer. His heart’s lighter now that he heard you laugh.

Umemiya 

Since Umemiya heard you talked about your ex with Tsubakino, he was thinking of a way to make it up for you. He’s still upset that you were treated so poorly compared to what you do for others and desperately wishes to make you feel appreciated this time. 

He already had, what he thought, an idea, but he didn’t want you to guess so he had to organize it all somewhere you know. Not that he minded much. 

That’s why when he heard the rooftop’s door open behind him, he couldn’t wait to see your reaction. 

“Hajime ?” you looked around for him. “Why did you make me come this late, nobody’s there and- oh.” You stopped, a rather blank face at first as you looked around all the things he made up. 

Garlands were falling around the small space he used to eat with his friends, all kinds of food you liked on the table from what you could see and a small bag on the corner as well. You stayed silent for a second, mouth agape. Blinking a few times, your eyes finally fell on him. 

He had a huge, satisfied smile on his face, almost making you blush at the fondness dripping from it. He was patiently waiting for you to open your mouth to talk, rather than eating mosquitoes. 

“You prepared all of that ?” 

“Yep!”

“What for ?” you giggled nervously as you got closer, amazed, looking more carefully to what was on the table.

“Thank you. Because you’re always there for me, helping me, even cooking for me.” he explained calmly as he followed you around, half a step behind you. “You deserve it.” 

You choked on your laughter, feeling the tears coming to your eyes as he kept talking. “I don’t.” 

“Yes you do.” Before you could turn around, two strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you to his chest. Resting his head on yours, you muffled you cried in your hand but you could tell he was smiling. He must feel proud of himself, and he should. 

“That’s perfect, Hajime. Thank you so much.” your voice cracked, but you didn't really care. The ffelingof his hug tightening around you was enough.

Let me know if you liked it !

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

#wind breaker x reader #wind breaker satoru nii x reader #wind breaker hcs #wind breaker fluff #wind breaker #sakura haruka x reader #sakura x reader #sakura fluff #suo hayato x reader #suo x reader #suo hayato fluff #suo imagines #suou x reader #nirei x reader #nirei fluff #umemiya x reader #umemiya imagines #hajime umemiya

[wellionlybroughtthree]

spilling amaretto 'cause of previous joints - matty healy

[ok so danny writer debut, huh. literally no one asked for it but here we are. huge shoutout to @abouttofillhisshoes for dealing with my countless mental breakdowns and constant useless apologizing, also all credit for the title goes to them as this is actually called "if you like pina colada dadadada getting caught in the rain" in my head, so thank you again <3]

wc: ~5k

cw: poor use of the english language (i tried), unnecessary ramblings about cocktails, there's like a tiny bit of storytelling if you squint but it all just leads to; smut, they shared one drink but they aren't like drunk and it's all consensual ofc, excessive use of the word 'darling', knife play! but for like 15 seconds nothing too crazy, brief mentions of blood, bj, like mild face-fucking??, subby matty but then again not really as i couldn't decide on what i wanted to write, it's all over the place tbh, he begs her to fuck him tho, oh and they do anal (hides in corner) like he sticks a finger up her ass sorry, reader apologises a lot, and that's kinda it i think

here goes nothing

Red neon lights hanging from the ceiling, hardly illuminating the space. The floor is sticky from the drinks people must have spilled during the previous night. Nervous, but excited you make your way to the far back, towards the bar. Checking your phone, you realise you’re 20 minutes early. Probably explains why you can’t find Matty anywhere. Or anyone else for that matter. It’s quiet, almost too quiet and you just stand there, fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt, not knowing what to do.

The squeak of the bathroom door opening makes you still and your eyes focus on the figure coming towards you. Matty.

His steps radiate confidence, his sharp hand features illuminated by the neon red lights as he reaches you. His broad shoulders are covered by a leather jacket. You gulp. He’s even prettier than you remembered.

Probably because you were fucking hammered last time, idiot.

This is going to be hard, but you try to keep it professional and reach your hand out for him to shake. Matty just laughs and pulls you in for a hug instead. “None of that nonsense, darling. We are all just normal people here, no need for formalities. How’s your day been so far?”

The nerves in your stomach swirl as you see his intoxicating smile break out across his face. That has got to be the most captivating man you’ve ever seen. Scared of him being able to read your thoughts, you look to the ground. 

“It was great, thank you. Sorry for being so early though, traffic is a nightmare at this hour so I-” 

Matty cuts you off with a chuckle. “Punctuality is one of the key features I look for in my employees, you’re fine darling. Don’t stress.” You follow him towards the bar and behind the counter.

“I know this lighting is all cool looking and shit but you might need to shield your eyes for a second.” You stare at him with a questioning look but squint your eyes two seconds later as bright, white lighting fills the space. “House lights, magic. Can’t teach you anything if we can’t see, isn't that right?”

You nod as your eyes adjust to the new brightness. Your eyes immediately fall to the endless amount of liquor bottles under the counter. How are you going to remember all the different kinds and when they’re used? Seems impossible at first sight.

Matty catches your worried expression. “You are going to be fine, I’ll go slow and try to explain everything as simply as possible. Go sit on the counter, I’ll go over the theoretical stuff first, and then we’ll get to mixing and I’ll see if you’re any good, yeah?” He smirks as he gestures to the counter. You hop on, immediately cursing yourself for wearing a skirt. The marble counter feels cold under your thighs and you shiver, crossing your legs.

An hour goes by, as Matty shows you all the different kinds of glasses, telling you when to use each one. Then going over the ridiculous amount of liquor bottles. You have never seen this many different kinds of tequila in your life.

“So if someone just asks for a shot of vodka, for example. Unless they specify which brand they want, you just give them this.” He points to the liquor bottle on the far left. “That’s the house vodka, the cheapest one.” You nod, hoping he doesn’t catch the way you’ve been staring at his lips the entire time. God, he’s making it so hard to concentrate.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to remember everything right away. You won’t be standing here alone for your first couple of shifts anyways. Before we get to the fun part which is making cocktails and possibly getting drunk, I’m going to teach you how to pour.” Matty turns around, gets a bottle of water and replaces the cap with a weird looking one you’ve seen before but don’t know the name of. Then, he reaches behind himself and grabs a small cup that’s kind of shaped like a cone. You fiddle with your hands, not sure what he was expecting you to do, scared of messing it up. Matty notices your nervousness and puts the bottle down.

“You’re alright darling, please stop worrying too much. You’ve done a great job listening to me so far. I'm sure you’ll do great. And even if you mess up the first time, which is likely to happen considering you’ve never done this before, we have at least another 5 hours before opening, so plenty of time to mess up and try again, alright?” He gives you a comforting smile. You sigh in relief. “I just really want this job, you know? I just want to be good for you.”

Matty gives you a look you can’t quite decipher. “Oh I’m sure you’ll be perfect for me, darling.” You visibly swallow, hopping off the counter.

Matty reaches for the water bottle again and begins explaining.

“This is a jigger.” He points to the cone shaped cup. “It is used for measuring ounces of liquor. But using a jigger takes too much time and I’d rather teach you how to count your pours so you don’t have to use that thing alright?” You nod and watch intently as Matty gets another cup from behind him. He counts to four and pours the water into the cup, then sets it on the counter beside him. “Every bartender has a different count system, I suppose. But the easiest way is counting to four for one ounce, so you can count to one for a quarter of an ounce and so on.” He gets the cup and pours the water into the jigger. It hits the one ounce mark perfectly. “See? And now you do it.”

He takes a step towards you and hands you the water bottle. It’s the first time that day you properly take in his intoxicating smell. Which is mostly cigarettes to be fair, but also something uniquely Matty. Your head spins as you take the water bottle from his hands, brushing his calloused fingertips slightly.

You stand up straighter, wanting to appear more confident than you are. Closing your eyes to avoid Matty’s piercing stare, you start pouring into the cup.

1, 2, 3, 4…

“Can I just do it again? I think I overpoured I’m sorry I’ll try again-” You go on to spill the water into the sink but Matty catches your wrist quickly. Your breathing hitches and you hope he doesn’t notice so you quickly look to the ground. “For fucks sake. Stop being so-" He doesn’t finish his sentence, instead releasing your wrist from his grip, throwing his head back and running his hands through his curly hair.

Great, now he’s annoyed.

“Look, the pour looked near perfect actually. Stop doubting yourself too much, okay?” He grabs the jigger and pours the water in it. One ounce. You hit the mark perfectly. Holy shit.

You try to suppress your proud grin, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“None of that, darling. Look you smashed that, okay? Be proud of yourself.” Matty smiles and rubs your arm. “I honestly thought we would be here for half an hour at least, you should’ve seen some of my other employees on their first day. No one could get it right the first try. I guess you’re just a natural.”

Not knowing how to deal with the compliment you wave your hand awkwardly. “Oh, I’m sure it was just good luck.” Matty sighs dramatically and shoves you backwards. Stumbling backwards, your back hits the counter. You giggle and cross your arms. “Hey, what was that for? Way to treat your future employees.” Matty rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Shut up.”

Mixing cocktails is really fun, you realise. You are also having a way less hard time remembering all the different kinds of liquors than you thought. You really hope Matty thinks you’re good enough. Because you want to get the job, of course. No other reason. Not because the way he’s staring at you is making your head spin. Not because his praise is making your stomach turn. Not because staring at his hands is making you think about how they would feel on your skin. Not because staring at his lips is making you think about how they would feel against your own. You want to be good for him. Because you want to get the job.

You snap out of your thoughts as Matty asks you a question. “Do you want to take a sip of the martini? You did a good job, tastes perfect.” He takes another large sip and hands you the glass. You look at him unsure. “Are you sure? We aren’t done yet, are we?” Despite knowing this is probably not a good idea, you take the glass from his hands. Maybe this will help you loosen up and be less self conscious. Or maybe it’ll make your brain go mush and act stupid. Taken the fact that you've never had a martini before, you don’t actually know how strong it is. Tilting your head, you gulp the rest of the drink back in one hit, cringing at the fire that coats your throat from it.

Fuck, that’s strong.

You cough slightly, as you feel the warmth spreading across your body. From the alcohol, but also from Matty watching you intently. He must be thinking you’ve never had a drink in your life. This is embarrassing.

You squeeze your eyes closed, waiting for the burning in your throat to die down.

“You alright, darling?” Matty asks with a concerned expression on his face. Your face grows red in embarrassment. “Yeah, it’s fine I think. I’ve just never had something with gin before. That was stronger than I expected, sorry. ‘S all good though. I think I can continue without tripping over my feet and embarrassing myself in front of you.” You try and joke, hoping Matty will let it go and just continue talking cocktails to you.

“Alright then, let’s just continue with-” Matty’s eyes search for a specific bottle and finally reaches for a Bacardi Carta Blanca. “This one. We haven’t done white rum yet.”

“Mojito is done with white rum, isn’t it?” Mojito is your best friend’s favourite, you hope you didn’t get it confused and say something incredibly stupid but Matty’s eyes light up. Thank God. “That’s right, darling. Mojito consists of white rum, soda, mint leaves, a lime, and brown sugar. Most people use simple syrup to substitute the brown sugar because it blends into the drink more nicely, but I prefer to do it the old fashioned way. Tastes better, too.” Matty points to a big drawer behind me. “There’s our fridge, it has all the fresh ingredients, like fruits and all that. If you could just get me a lime, please?”

You nod and turn around. You silently thank the alcohol for your new found confidence, as you bend over, purposefully hiking your skirt up a little in the process. You hope he notices, judging by his coughing while you take longer than needed to search for a lime, he definitely did notice. Grabbing the lime, you turn around and shoot him an innocent smile. “This one good enough?”

Matty’s eyes narrow as you place the lime on the counter. He coughs again and then nods. “Yeah, that one will do. Let me get you a knife, hold on.” He rummages in one of the drawers and goes to stand next to you, handing you a small knife. “Cut it up into six equal parts and then put them in a glass with the mint leaves and brown sugar, go on.” He instructs. You cut the lime in half, letting out a sharp breath. You aren’t really able to concentrate with him standing so close to you. His smell occupies your nostrils and his- “Woah there, easy with the knife, darling.” Matty chuckles as you almost cut yourself, too lost in your thoughts.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” You giggle. Matty doesn’t respond right away so you turn around. The look on his face is one you can’t quite read. It’s calm, but there’s something else and it’s making your stomach turn. He raises his left eyebrow.

“Scare me?” He echoes, picking up the knife and bringing it between us. You grow nervous, not being able to grasp what’s going on. Is he mad? “Uhm, look I didn’t mean it like that, I don’t know why I said that I’m sorry, let’s just get back to-” Matty cutts you off as he reaches for your hand and places the knife into it. You know you should be scared shitless at this point, but you’re beyond excited, if anything.

“You think you can scare me? Go on, then.” Matty gives you a challenging look. You don’t respond straight away, not knowing what to do. Running away seems like the best option at this point, but you don’t trust your body at this state. Your legs feel like jelly, so realistically you’d just fall over and embarrass yourself even more. Your heart rate accelerates as Matty puts his hand on top of yours, bringing the knife up to his throat, moving the blade to press right under his jaw.

“Do I look scared yet, darling?” You gulp, now feeling like you’re definitely going to pass out any second. Holy fuck. The words are stuck in your throat, not being able to process what you’re seeing, let alone the feelings it’s eliciting in you. To think about the fact that an hour ago you couldn’t even look this man in the eyes and now you’re holding a knife to his throat and enjoying it? Talk about character development. Matty moves his face closer to yours, applying more pressure to the blade. It sends your body into a nervous shock, silently thankful he has a hold of your hand because you wouldn’t trust yourself to do something like that sober, let alone when you’ve had a drink.

“And now, do I look scared yet?” You shake your head, staring at the blade against his neck and then his eyes. “No, just a little mentally unstable and like you’re lowkey enjoying it, if I’m honest.” 

Matty lets out a small laugh. “Because I am.” He keeps the hold around your hand and starts to trace the knife down his throat, between his collar bones. “Are you?”

Are you enjoying it? You know you shouldn’t, that’s for sure. You want this job after all, and if you keep going any further, that’s going to be off the table 100%. But you can’t deny the warm rush this entire situation sends through your body. You feel like your legs are going to give out. In the best way possible. Is it the alcohol? Who knew you would enjoy holding a knife to someone’s throat. Might as well buy a straight jacket at this point.

Matty’s eyes stay trained on yours as he waits for an answer. You look down in slight embarrassment and exhale a small “yes.”

Matty’s body flinches as he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and cusses a “shit” under his breath. Your eyes shoot up to his neck, seeing he’s accidentally pressed the blade down too hard and cut himself. You immediately pull the knife back, panicking. “Holy shit…Matty you alright? See, I knew this wasn’t going to be a good idea. All I wanted was this job and now I’ve cut my potential future boss in the neck, holy shit. I am so sorry, I should be leaving, see? This is why you don’t drink and play with sharp objects.”

Matty looks at you with a smirk. “Please stop panicking, darling. I’m totally fine.” You look at him confused, you have just injured your potential future boss, how can he be so calm? You were expecting him to yell at you, at least. Your body freezes as he brings your hand holding the knife back to his face, moving it up to his mouth. Slipping his tongue out to slowly lick up the flat side of the now bloodied blade, he gives you a challenging look. “See? I’m just fine, darling.”

There is a devious spark in his eyes, and it makes you clench your thighs together involuntarily. You’re glad he’s fine because you sure as hell aren’t after seeing that.

You don’t trust your voice so you just stare at him, not saying anything. He takes the knife from your grip and places it on the counter behind you.

Something about the energy in the air between you feels deranged and unhinged, but in an exciting way.

Matty takes your hand, asking you if you’re okay. “We can just, you know, forget that shit happened, I get that that’s not what you signed up for, darling. Just, get back to making cocktails, alright?” You’re not sure what comes over you but you feel like a switch in your brain flips and you dip your fingers into the top of his jeans to tug him in towards you by his belt, holding the back of his neck and crashing your mouth against his.

Matty, though a bit taken aback by your sudden action, matches the heated kiss immediately. He shrugs off his leather jacket, revealing a plain white t-shirt underneath. Pinning you against the counter with his hips, his centre is rocking against you and you realise how hard he is. Holy shit.

A deep moan travels up Matty’s throat as you drag your nails down his back which makes him thrust harder. This feels so familiar, yet so foreign, like you’re embracing a sinful part of yourself you haven’t discovered up until now. Matty tears away from the kiss, searching your eyes for permission. Too far gone, you’d let him do anything to you at this point so you nod, giving him a small smile. Matty tugs you forward and spins you around so your body is bent across the counter. You suck in a sharp breath, the sudden movement and the cold marble counter against your body making your head spin.

Matty’s fingers are rough with hoisting up your skirt to your waist. “This what you wanted isn’t that right, darling? Wearing that skimpy skirt and purposefully bending over so I could almost see your underwear? Staring at my fingers the entire time when all I wanted was to explain cocktails to you. Filthy girl, playing all innocent. You wanted to be good for me? Now’s the time, darling.”

You clench your thighs involuntarily at his words. Matty pulls down your black lace underwear, tossing it somewhere behind him. Your body jolts when his hand cracks down hard against the skin of your behind. Barely giving you any time to react, he laces his fingers into your hair, pulling your head back. You moan quietly at the sharp pain on your scalp.

“Get on your knees for me, come on. Let me ruin that pretty lipstick.”

Excitement fires through your nerves, and you oblige, slowly turning around and lowering yourself down, the cold tiles hard against your knees. Once you’re settled somewhat comfortably on the ground you stare up at him with innocent eyes, waiting for his instructions. Matty goes to unbuckle his belt, his biceps flexing in the process. Your eyes can’t decide where they want to look, flicking between his face and watching his hand tug his boxers down enough to release himself, wrapping his fingers around his solid length with a sigh. He teases his tip against your lower lip.

“Open up, darling.” Considering your previous makeout session and the way half of your lipstick is already smeared on his mouth, you’re sure it’s already ruined. You part your lips, letting your tongue slip out to tease him, tasting the precome and Matty nudges his hips forward to push into your mouth. As soon as your lips envelop him his brows furrow and he tilts his head back. “Fuck, that’s right darling. You’re doing so well for me.” Squirming at the praise, you’re eager to take more of him.

He starts to slowly pull his hips back, pushing forward again and then steadily thrusting as you suction your mouth around him. Taking in the sight above you, the way his muscles tense under his tattoo covered skin with his heavy breaths, the way his face is screwed up in pleasure and his hair falling into his face when his head drops forward. His fingers tighten in the back of your hair as he picks up his rhythm.

“Pinch me if it gets too much, okay?” He grunts, pushing his fingers through his damp hair, to get it away from his forehead. You nod as best as you can, pushing forward to let him brush against the back of your throat as saliva coats his skin and drips down your chin.

He picks up a fast, more forceful pace as you try and concentrate on relaxing your throat and breathing through your nose. Feeling him push further back with each thrust until he pushes all the way forward so your nose brushes against the hair of his groin.

It makes you gag around him, and Matty snaps a loud “fucking hell, darling.” before smacking his hand against the counter behind you to hold himself up. Your throat tightens around him and he whines at the feeling, snapping his hips back as he pulls from your mouth, leaving a trail of saliva dripping down your chin. His wrist wraps tightly around his base as he twitches in his hand and his eyes clamp shut as he chants a quiet “fuck, fuck, fuck” under his breath.

You can feel the intense need exploding from him, all of his movements are manic and rushed. Matty pulls you up to stand, kissing you harder and more frantically than before, only stopping to sit down on a barstool, pulling you on top of him. He stares up at you, and lets his hand slip between you to drag his fingers through your dripping core. You squirm against his fingers, feeling that throbbing pulse between your legs along with a tight pressure in your lower half.

“Shit, I nearly came in your mouth just then. Could barely stop it.” Matty says out of breath. “But I don’t want that. Not when you’re so fucking wet, I want it wrapped around me. Want you to fuck me, feel you when you come.” He is rambling, sounding out of his mind, pulling you closer so your centre is pressed against his and he grinds you against him.

A strained whimper tumbles out of him and his demeanour completely flipped as he basically begs. “Please, darling. Fuck me, ride me- anything. I wanna feel you around me so fucking bad.” You take a second to adjust to his mood swing, but then you cup his jaw with your hands. “You want me to fuck you?” Matty nods quickly and thrusts his hips up against you. You lift yourself up and wrap your hand around him to line him up with your entrance, only sinking down onto his tip and then pause.

Matty shifts under you, whining a pathetic sound as you watch his flushed face intently, raising an eyebrow at him. “Please,” he pants, sounding borderline in pain at this point. “Fuck me, I need you so bad, darling fucking hell, please-” You interrupt his pleads by pushing yourself down, feeling him stretch and fill you as Matty curses a loud “holy shit”, throwing his head back while you moan at the feeling.

The second you’re sunk onto him completely his hand finds your behind, urging you to move. Both of your skin is slick and wet, feeling like you’re running a fever as the air is burning hot and you continue to move your hips. “Shit, you’re so fucking wet, look at you already making a mess.” he grits, looking down in disbelief between us as his chest heaves, “you feel so fucking good around me, all I could fucking think about since the moment I’ve seen you, shit.”

He isn’t lying, you can feel the dampness on the inside of your thighs, feeling how easily he slips inside you and it’s only amplifying how amazing it feels. You continue fucking him, letting your hips slam down against him and listen to the symphony of pornographic sounds leaving him, which is only riling you up more. You swear you could come just from listening to him in pleasure.

“Can I try something, darling?” He pants, both looking and sounding delirious. You let your hips circle against him, feeling him hit spots that have your back arching. “What?”

“Can I fuck you with my finger here?” He asks, giving your behind a firm squeeze. “Just one finger. I’ll be gentle. Can I do that while you ride my cock?” It doesn’t register right away what he’s asking, but then you realise and pause. “There?”

Matty captures your mouth in a kiss, then teases his tongue over your lower lip. “If you don't want to, we won't. And if you don’t like it, I’ll stop. It helps if you’re very turned on, trying it. If you like it, I promise, I’ll have your whole body shaking.” You think over the idea in your head, expecting to be grossed out or intimidated. You have known this man for 3 hours max, after all. But it’s only intriguing you.

“Okay, I wanna try.” You agree, still rocking against him, finding it hard to sit still with this unbearable pleasure in your lower stomach. Matty raises his eyebrows like he didn’t expect your answer to be so quick or casual, but then his lips form a slow smile and then presses another kiss to your lips. “That’s my filthy girl.”

He moves his hand up and your heartbeat accelerates when you watch him spit on his pointer and middle finger. He watches for your reaction as he moves his hand around and you feel his finger slip between your cheeks to your tightest entrance, spreading around his saliva that mixes with the arousal that had dripped back there from your centre. “Because you’ve gone and made such a fucking mess everywhere, that helps too.” He adds, keeping his eyes on yours and you gasp as you feel him press his ring and middle finger against your hole.

“Keep moving, darling. Come on, keep fucking me, focus on that. Can you feel how fucking rock hard I am, all because of you?” He asks, circling his finger against you but not going any further. You nod, trying to follow what he says and focus on that as you rock against him.

His other hand holds your hip, starting to guide your movements and even though it’s obvious he’s struggling to compose himself and dying to finish, he doesn’t rush.

You feel him inch his finger forward, only pushing his fingertip into your rear entrance and aside from feeling a bit strange and tight, it’s not uncomfortable. He doesn’t go further, but continues to guide your hips to start pulling yourself up and sink back down onto him, coaxing me. “Keep going, go on. I can’t fucking wait to feel you come around me.”

As your body moves, and you keep that pace, gradually his finger starts to inch in bit by bit in movement with your own body, not forcing it in at all and you let out a surprised moan when you adjust to it. His finger is sunk into the second knuckle, applying pressure to spots you didn’t even know existed. Matty’s mouth is grazing against yours, whimpering when he feels your tightness around him as you move. “How are you feeling, baby? Does that feel good, yeah?” He grunts, starting to thrust his hips up to match your movements. “You wanna keep going?”

“It’s-” You gasp and another moan rips out of you as he massages his finger inside of you, and you start to bounce faster, holding on tight to his shoulders. “It’s like- Fuck it feels really good.” You can hear the surprise in your voice and Matty smiles to himself. He removes one of your hands from his shoulders to press your fingers against your clit. His mouth goes to rest near your ear, with his voice strained “You’re being so good for me darling, look at you taking my cock and my finger. Now touch yourself, come all over me. Please, darling.”

You start to circle your fingers against your clit, feeling your body shudder from how sensitive you are. Matty helps pick up your rhythm with his hold on your ass, guiding you up and down as his finger continues to fuck into you and he thrusts his hips up faster. This almost feels too overwhelming, like your body can’t handle all these sensations at once and you fall forward, burying your face against his neck. 

You cry out as Matty snaps his hips up harder each time you sink down onto him, and when his finger inside of you hits that certain place, at the same time he thrusts into you, you move your fingers faster against your nerves and you feel that knot in your lower half explode. “Matty, I- what the- oh my fucking god, sorry” You nearly shriek, unable to control the volume of your voice and your whole body starts to tremble as you are sucker punched with bliss through every nerve. As soon as Matty feels your pulse around him, he slams you down against him with a loud whine. “Fuck- I’m fuck, fuck” Both of your bodies writhe against each other, hot and covered in sweat and Matty threads his fingers into your hair to pull your head up and connect your mouths. 

The kiss is almost pointless, both of your mouths hanging open and moaning helplessly as you ride out the tsunami type orgasms that are wrecking the both of you, Matty’s legs shake as he grunts with each release as he spills into you.

You end up slumped against him, barely able to breathe and Matty wraps his arm around your back, keeping you hugged against him. You’re honestly shocked you didn’t instantly pass out and fall asleep. Matty slips his finger from you and nudges his nose against your cheek. “You alive, darling?”

“Barely.” You mumble, feeling like you don’t even know what fucking year it is.

You feel Matty smile when his cheek rests against yours and he laughs under his breath.

“You’re hired, by the way.”

#im like about to throw up #holy shit #the 1975 #matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty healy smut #the 1975 smut #fuckkkkkkkkkkkk

[takes1]

asahi x feral reader w/ a size k!nk

this was indulgent for me. asahi is def a favorite of mine. idk where the kuroo's little sister idea really stems from, but it just came to me and worked with my prompt (mostly adding conflict/humor). thirsty lead-up to some pay-off smut

warnings. asahi thirst. eventual smut. minors DNI info. lite!nsfw to future smut / gentle giant!asahi / asahi appreciation / size kink / kuroo's sister!reader / kuroo cockblocking / 860 words / multi-part smut so reply to be added to taglist! haikyuu collection. more here. more links. masterlist. my ao3. requests/submissions: open

Great, hulking muscles slammed a ferocious serve through the other side of the court. An easy point for his team.

Screams of adoration from Karasuno supporters and his own teammates echoed in your ears: Asahi.

Yeah, that was a name you could get used to screaming.

Your jaw was on the floor. Your trembly hands seized the railing to keep your wobbly body barely upright. The sigh you gave felt like it lasted minutes, so when you went to gasp for more air, it sounded like a demented groan.

"I need him biblically," You heard yourself declare.

It may have been the show of force, but there was something about a kind face attached to that weapon of a body that set your senses on fire. You were already crafting plans to seduce him after the game, making fictional arrangements to ensure you could be under him in the shortest wait time possible.

"What?" Your friend laughed at you, a hand on your shoulder to jerk you back to reality.

You were on the opposite side of the court, after all. What you could see of him was through the net.

That was not your team by any means- you were connected to the one in front of you by blood.

"Number 3," You sighed, leaning against the railing. Maybe you'd fall into the court and he could catch you in his big arms. Then, you'd start making out and--

"Yaku??" She laughed.

"No!" You made a disgusted sound, "God, not-- Karasuno number three!"

Her laughter only made you feel like talking to him was as realistic as Nekoma winning right now. With a 7-point difference, it was pretty self-explanatory.

"Yaku's not that bad," She grinned at your eyes rolling all the way back into your skull, "Hey! You've gotta calm down."

Your head was on your arms, crumpled against the railing. There was no chance in Hell you'd let this opportunity slip from your fingers.

The energy pumping through you was straight-up biological.

It was the only explanation for a need that went this deep, so strong that it carried your legs down the stands and into the hallway behind the gymnasium after the game was over.

This deranged arousal only felt out of place when your brother stopped you from moving further down, to where Karasuno was packing their gear up.

"Woahwoahwoah," Kuroo narrowed his eyes at you and spun you around by your shoulder, "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

He knew something was up. There was a sick scheme playing out in your eyes.

He glanced from you, to the rowdy group of giants the next space over, then back to you with a harder look.

"None of your business," You spat, thinking him funny to try to get in your way like this in front of people. He usually acted like you were the dirt on the bottom of his shoe in public.

You only went to his games to spot cute boys, anyway. This time you were actually successful and felt so inclined as to approach said-cute-boy.

"Let go," You wrenched your arm out of his gross, sweaty hand and scoffed, walking off towards Karasuno's beautiful, meaty Ace.

There was a muttered, 'Whatever,' and you knew he didn't care enough to foil your plans again. They did just lose.

The thought crossed your mind to remove your Nekoma school hoodie only after it was too late. Karasuno spotted some enemy colors and quieted upon your approach.

Any confidence you had gathered shrank tenfold-- but you locked in on the subject of your desire and remembered your divine mission.

Get railed. This week.

That wouldn't happen if you backed down now or fucked up the plan.

He was in the center of his team, so you had to give some small 'Excuse me's to get to who you were here for.

Shocked, silent looks were exchanged all around when you stopped in front of him at last.

You were gathered in a sea of players, trapped to carry out the reason that brought you here.

"Um," You found it impossible to look at his face, so you looked forward at his chest while you gathered the courage, "That was a good game."

You tried to swallow the growing need to scream when you looked up. He had facial hair, you realized- his eyes were deep brown, his skin dark tan, and he was one of the two tallest on the team.

It occurred to you that you picked the biggest, baddest guy in this hall.

You grabbed his hand and deposited a piece of paper inside, "Call me."

Unable to look at his face again, you decided that was enough to get your point across and sifted through the gathered crowd of Karasuno's team members.

With your back turned, head swimming with regret at your forwardness, you couldn't see nor understand the strangled sounds of teenage boys celebrating their cowardly ace getting a cute girl's number like that.

Pushing, pulling, laughing, shoving, and other celebratory verbalizations were far behind you when you joined Nekoma once again- your home team beyond curious as to what you did to make their rivals even louder.

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#takesone #x reader #haikyu fluff #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu asahi #asahi x reader #asahi azumane #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #azumane asahi #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fanfiction #hq x reader #azumane asahi x reader #asahi x reader smut #asahi azumane x reader smut #haikyuu asahi azumane #haiku #asahi smut #asahi azumane smut #size difference #size k!nk #size difference asahi

[annwrites]

fine, yeah, I'm fuckin' jealous!

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: ficlet

— summary: you & billy get lunch & he nearly commits assault. he then steals your icecream cone.

— tags: billy getting violently jealous, billy getting a boner, billy being possessive

— tw: eating, drinking, slut-shaming, sexual harassment

— word count: 2,840

— a/n: i'm not gonna lie, writing for billy is sm fun. he's such an asshole & it's hilarious to me

find my other posts concerning billy, here

When you wake in the morning, it's with a muscled arm slung heavily over your waist, and something hard pressed into your backside.

So, he'd decided to join you under the convers at some point during the night, you think.

You turn, wishing to get him off of you, but jerk in surprise when you feel a patch of rough hair brush against the side of your thigh. He was not...

You shoot up in bed, his arm falling into your lap, and he doesn't even wake.

You very slowly pull back the comforter, and when you glance down you fill with rage. "Get up!"

Billy's eyes slowly open and a lazy smile forms on his lips. "Mornin', sunshine. You sleep good? I know I did."

You get out of bed, throwing the covers back, then immediately regret that decision, seeing someone—or, rather, something—also clearly 'awake'.

Billy doesn't so much as react. He just folds his hands behind his head, not even bothering to re-cover himself, knowing what God blessed him with.

You stare up at the ceiling. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

His eyes trail along your body, your messy hair. "I don't like sleeping in clothes. Get over it."

Your hands ball into fists at your sides. "You are such a dick."

He raises a brow, glancing down to his waist, shrugging, lightly nodding. "In a way, I guess you're rig-"

You quickly walk around to his side of the bed, grabbing his briefs, and throwing them in his face. "Get dressed."

He catches them, sighing. "You're so mean to me."

You grab your backpack, heading into the bathroom, firmly shutting the door behind you as you get ready for the day.

When you come back into the room, Billy's now dressed—thankfully. A pair of jeans, his boots, and a plaid button-up...which is fairly unbuttoned at the top, showing off his chest, and leather jacket on.

He looks up to you, chewing on a piece of cold pizza. "Breakfast?" He asks, holding the half-eaten piece out toward you, mouth full.

You grab your other bag, settling the strap on your shoulder. "No, I lost my appetite," you say, making your way toward the door.

Just as you reach up on tiptoes to unlock the chain at the top, you feel him pinch your ass under your dress.

You swing around, backpack nearly slamming into him, which you then slip off of your shoulders, throwing it on the floor.

He raises his hands, laughing.

You raise an open palm toward him, his hand quickly grabbing your wrist, catching it before it even comes close to his face. You raise the other one—same thing. He pushes you back against the wall, holding you firmly in-place by your wrists, a smirk on his lips as you squirm to get free.

He places his lips directly beside your ear, his body now pressed-up against your own. "You want to take your frustrations out on me, baby? I can think of lots of funner ways to do it." He pulls back, looking into your eyes, face now utterly serious, eyes hard, his hands squeezing your wrists a bit more firmly.

"Don't ever do that again," he says, suddenly releasing you and grabbing his bag, throwing the door open, leaving you standing there seething.

Once the two of you are checked out and back on the road, Billy seems to be in good spirits, despite your little tiff that morning...which you felt incredibly guilty about.

How could you have even thought of hitting him? Especially when you knew how much it hurt. And you knew that he did as well.

You reach forward, turning down AC/DC on the radio and turn toward him.

He looks at you with a curious expression. "You need somethin', baby?"

Always with the pet names...

"I'm sorry...for...for trying to slap you. I shouldn't have done that. You're right: it won't happen again."

He's silent for a moment, staring at the road ahead. Then, "Don't worry about it." He shrugs. "Just trying to get you to lighten up a little, sugar. You know, you are allowed to have fun."

You shake your head. "Could you please stop with the pet names?'

He smirks. "Not likely, honey." Then, "So, about that having fun-"

You turn the radio back up, Highway to Hell blasting through the speakers.

A couple hours later, the two of you finally stop for lunch at a roadside stand that serves burgers, hotdogs, fries, and a few other items.

The two of you pay separately this time, you opting for cheese fries, and Billy a burger.

You sit at a picnic table with an umbrella overtop the both of you, and you watch as he opens his soda can, taking a sip.

You eat a couple fries, and feel a jean-clad leg brush against your own under the table.

You glance up to him from under your lashes, but he just continues eating.

And then you feel his boot knock against your ankle.

"Would you stop that?"

He looks up at you, swallowing. "Eating?"

You roll your eyes, lightly kicking him under the table.

"You want to play footsie, darlin'?"

You shake your head, ignoring his leg softly rubbing against your own. Every time you react, you're giving him exactly what he wants. He's just pissing you off to amuse himself.

A few moments later, his leg stills and you look up, seeing that his eyes are now trained elsewhere: on a pair of girls around your age perched atop a picnic table diagonal to where you sit, giggling and talking amongst themselves, glancing to him every few seconds. You turn back around to continue eating.

Billy shoots them a wink. "Hey, dolls," he calls flirtatiously.

You roll your eyes, but remain silent.

"Is that your car?" One asks, looking to his Camaro.

He grins—it always makes picking up chicks so much easier. "Sure is, sweetheart. You want me to take you for a spin?"

She goes quiet for a moment, you imagine she's debating it with her friend, then, "Can we both come?"

He stands. "Hell yeah you can, baby."

He doesn't bother looking down to you when he says quietly, "Be right back."

You watch as his car speeds out of the parking lot, hoping he comes back simply because all of your things are in his trunk.

Once you've finished eating, you stand to throw your trash away, until a soft breeze blows one of your napkins away. You groan.

You plop your paper bowl on top of the table and crouch down on hand and knees, reaching underneath the table to grab it. You go to stand, then hear someone catcall you from behind, and you slam the top of your head against the bottom of the table.

You reach up, placing your palm over the spot you were sure would have a bump forming on it soon enough.

You look behind you, and a group of three guys are watching you. Two of them standing, talking to each other, glancing to you every few seconds with smirks, the third seated on the hood of what you assume is his Mustang.

You turn around, throwing your trash away, then you seat yourself at the table again, leaning back against it, watching for Billy's car, now feeling uncomfortable.

The one on the hood slides off, making his way over to you.

You ignore him, glancing around, pretending not to notice, hoping it'll discourage him from trying to talk to you. You don't get so lucky, however.

He comes to stand in front of you, forcing you to look up at his towering form. He's older, but still handsome. Mid-twenties, maybe? Short, dark hair that's slicked back, a goatee, and dark eyes. He sports a plain blue t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. "Sorry about that. My friends...they, uh," he looks to them and smiles, then back to you. "Can be real assholes."

You smile nervously. "It's ok, no harm done."

He cocks his head to the side. "Your boyfriend do that?"

You reach up, hand hovering over the side of your face, then lower it back into your lap. "No. It's...a long story."

"I've got time," he replies with a kind smile.

You remain silent, not exactly interested in giving a stranger your life-story.

He nods. "I get it; you're shy. That's cute," he says with a chuckle.

He glances down to your bare legs, then back up to your eyes. "You're pretty."

You swallow nervously, blushing. "Thank you," you say quietly.

"Sweet too, apparently."

Your heart starts to pound from nerves. You then begin to worry about how long Billy is going to be gone. A few minutes? A couple hours?

Suddenly, he leans down, planting his palms atop the table behind you, boxing you in as he leans down, his face mere inches from your own. "You like fast cars, cutie?"

God, they really are all the same, aren't they?

You clasp your hands together to keep them from trembling from nerves. "Not really. They...they kind of scare me."

He smirks briefly. "What if I promise to take things slow, just for you?"

You know he is most certainly not talking about cars now.

Before you can reply, you hear the rumble of a familiar engine pulling back into the lot, and as you go to turn your head in the direction of the sound, he presses a kiss to your cheek, causing you to jerk your head back in his direction.

He laughs lightly. "Not exactly where I was aiming for." Then, "So, what's your name? Mine's Tyler."

You hear a door being loudly slammed.

"I-"

Suddenly, Tyler is being pulled away from you by the back of his shirt. Billy throws him on the pavement, the look on his face that of utter rage.

You glance to the Mustang, and see his two friends heading in your direction.

"Touch her again and I'll beat your fuckin' ass! You hear me, asshole?" He points down at him, his other hand in a tight fist.

Tyler goes to get up and Billy steps overtop of him, legs on either side of him. "Stay down, if you know what's fuckin' good for you."

"Hey!" You hear called from the parking lot and your eyes widen. His friends do not look happy.

You step over to Billy, gripping the leather of his jacket in your hands, pulling him toward you. "Billy, we have to go. Now."

He glares down at Tyler for just a moment longer, shoulders squared, rapidly rising and falling, jaw set, eyes hard, then steps away, grabbing your forearm, pulling you around to the passenger side. "Get in the fucking car," he orders, shoving you inside.

He quickly makes his way around the front of the car, turning the engine over and rapidly pulling away, leaving the three angry men in the rearview.

Billy swerves into traffic when he goes to merge, forcing the car in his lane to also swerve into the next one over, laying on their horn.

He just angrily switches gears, ignoring the now-angry driver, going faster.

You buckle yourself in, still shaking.

When you glance at him, he looks anything but pleased. Why was he so angry, anyway? Had the girls he'd given a quick ride to ticked him off? And thus made Tyler the target to take his anger out on?

"Did you not have fun, then?"

He looks at you with an irritated, but also confused look. "What?"

"With the girls from the food stand. Did they-"

He scoffs, shifting gears. "Are you fucking stupid, or something?"

Your hands ball into fists. "Excuse me?"

"Who even was that prick, huh? I leave you alone for five goddamn minutes and that's what I come back to? You letting him kiss you, and touch whatever-the-fuck-else while I wasn't there to-"

Angry tears sting your eyes. "I didn't let him touch anything! He came onto me! Maybe, if for once, you thought with the head on your shoulders, instead of the one in your pants, it wouldn't have happened in the first place!"

He picks up speed. "It's not my fuckin' job to babysit your ass. So, is that it, then? Huh? That you really are some easy slut who puts out for everyone except me?"

You're shaking you're so enraged now. "Fuck you! You-"

"Yeah, probably the only guy you haven't!" He throws at you with a mocking laugh.

He swerves into the next lane over as a poor excuse at merging.

"God, you are such an ass! What's your problem? I mean, how many girls have you slept with, anyway? I talk to one guy—one guy—and I'm a slut? Are you serious?"

He sneers. "None of your business how many I've had. Don't be such a fuckin' prude. Not like it meant anything, anyway. It's just sex. It doesn't mean shit."

"And that's exactly why I won't let you—any guy—so much as touch me: because that is what sex is to all of you. Thanks, but no thanks. I'll save myself for someone actually worthy of me."

He looks at you then, expression unreadable. "You're a fucking virgin?"

You clench your jaw.

He looks back to the road.

"Like you said: none of your business."

He leans back, dropping speeds, upshifting. "So you didn't let Harrington crawl up there after all, huh?"

You want to break something inside his car, but know for your own safety that you better not.

"Why? Are you jealous if I did?"

He looks at you. "Did he?" He asks, completely serious.

You shrug. "I don't know. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. Sound awful jealous to me."

He downshifts again, anger climbing, along with the speedometer. "Answer the fuckin' question."

You stare out your open window, hair whipping around you.

"Fine, yeah, I'm fuckin' jealous! That what you wanted to hear? Huh? So, did you-"

"No, we didn't even hold hands because it wasn't a date, Billy! I'm not even attracted to him in the first place. Halfway through Nancy showed up, and they talked for the rest of the evening, while I sat with a girlfriend of hers chatting."

He grows quiet for only a second before saying "fuck this" and turning the radio on, blaring Black Sabbath.

It's an hour later before either of you speak again, you breaking the silence. "I have to pee."

He rolls his eyes. "Why didn't you go back at the food stand? Oh, wait, nevermind. I know why. You were too busy-"

"Either you pull over soon or I'm going all over the seat."

He takes the next exit, and once he's parked outside of a McDonald's, you slam the door behind you.

"Fuckin' watch that shit!"

You ignore him as you go inside, in search of a restroom.

Once finished, you sit there a few extra minutes, trying to calm yourself down. You consider going back out and trying to calmly explain to him that there are other ways of expressing emotions than through violence and unabashed anger, but you know exactly how such a conversation will go—it won't. He'll put a stop to it before you can even start.

So, you instead wash your hands, then go and get yourself an ice-cream cone.

When you come back out to the car, Billy has a pair of sunglasses on, head leaned back against the seat, Led Zeppelin now playing.

You get inside, buckling yourself in with one hand, then take a lick of your ice-cream that's in the other.

He turns his head in your direction. "What, nothing for your chauffeur?"

You look at him, licking your lips. "You have two feet and a heartbeat, go get one."

He watches you lick a few more times, vanilla sliding down your tongue.

He doesn't even try to hide it when he reaches down, adjusting himself.

You ignore it, licking again.

"Let me have some."

You look at him, considering, then hold it toward him.

And he bites half the thing off, swallowing.

"You-"

He then tosses the rest out the window, splattering against the pavement, rainbow sprinkles going everywhere.

"What'd you do that for?!" You yell.

He puts the car in reverse, backing out of his parking spot. "Don't need you making a mess in here, or distracting me while I'm driving."

"You just wasted thirty cents of my money!"

His hand circles the wheel, turning toward the exit of the parking lot. "More like fifteen once I was done with it." He looks at you again. "If you need somethin' else to lick, I know where you can put your tongue at, sweetheart."

"You're so disgusting."

He glances to you. "I think you like getting those perfect feathers ruffled."

He then revs the engine loud enough as he drives away that he doesn't catch the vulgar statement you throw his way.

He'd like to think you agreed with him.

#fic: stranger things (billy hargrove x reader) #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x fem!oc #billy hargrove x female reader

[q1ngqve]

hello! I like your fics, can u do Mikhail smut? 🥹 that npc man is making me feel things a gurl shouldn’t. Any for, is fine, be it from the LC’s Tomorrow’s Journey or the old form ♥️🥺

🪷🫧💭 — sorry if it’s ooc… i tried (also requests are closed!)

CW; sex. no other warnings 😜ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

"do we really have to?"

you shoot him a glare as you adjust your necklace, the jewelry shiny and cool against your skin. "yes, because you reserved it." a tiny yelp escapes you at the sudden warmth on your nape, making your hair stand on end as you elbow him in the ribs.

he chuckles at your reaction to him appearing behind you without warning before parting your hair to one side and plants soft kisses on your skin.

"do you have to wear this specific dress then?" his arms snake around your waist, "you know it's my favorite." mikhail takes a step back as you remove his arms, spinning around to face him and draping your arms on his shoulders.

the corners of your lips curve into a soft smile as you lean closer, pecking a kiss onto his lips, staining them light red with your lip-gloss.

"I guess you'll have to wait till we come back," you shrug, "I don't wanna waste all the effort on doing my makeup."

his smile matches your own as his hands roam to the small of your back and nape, pulling you closer. "a quick one?" your eyes narrow at the feeling of his bulge against your stomach. "please?"

"fine."

"you're so good to me, my love."

his lips come fervently, sucking all the air from your lungs, desperate to taste and feel you. he walks you backward, hands and mouth never leaving you until you hit the wall with a thud. you push at his shoulders, trying to get him to release you so you can get some air.

soft gasps fill the air as he pulls away, his hands continuing with their ministrations. while you try to catch your breath, he already has your dress bunched up and you held up against the wall with your legs wrapped around his waist.

"mikhail— need you..."

his kiss comes again, harsher this time, as he undoes his belt, muttering an "mhmm" into your mouth. a soft hit lands on his shoulders at your disapproval when the sound of lingerie tearing fills the air. "we'll get you a new one."

your arms wrap tighter around him, gripping on for dear life, knowing how hard he goes when he's in a rush. whimpers of his name spill from your puffy lips as he nibbles on them, thrusting into you at the same time. the stretch has your back arching and legs tensing, and you hear him chuckle.

"love, you gotta relax—" mikhail hisses as his free hand slides between you two and draws circles on your clit. "you're so fucking tight."

deep grunts sound from the man before you as he finally bottoms out. he manages to pull another yelp from you as he pulls back and thrusts back in almost immediately, not giving you the time to adjust.

"wait— slow down!"

his chest reverberates as he laughs. "slow down? you told me to be quick, did you not?"

your head falls on his shoulder as you hang limp in his arms, body tensing at each rub of his tip on your gummy walls. you find yourself coming undone too quickly in this position, especially with him coaxing you on with each drive of his hips.

mikhail plants another kiss on your lips as you start shuddering and clenching against him, body tensing up at the knot building in your lower stomach. goosebumps litter your skin as he kisses down your neck, the warmth of his pants and groans urging your impending orgasm.

under the influence of his soft "cum for me"s in your ear, you cum with loud whines of his name, nails digging into his suit for support. he doesn't stop his movements, guiding you down from your orgasm as he reaches his own.

warm spurts fill your insides as he holds you up, hugging you close as you both ride out the high. when he senses you've relaxed, he sets you down and cups your face, kissing your blood-flushed lips gentler this time.

you lean against him as he smooths down your dress, a bright smile on his face as he holds out his hand.

"shall we go then, my love?"

#🀥 lan’s writings! #mikhail hsr #hsr #hsr smut #honkai star rail #mikhail x reader #mikhail hsr x reader #mikhail hsr smut

[her-power]

Fixation on the Darkness (Part Four: Dark Romance! e.m. x fem! reader)

‼️🚨 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🚨‼️

Trigger/Content Warning: Dark! Somewhat Souless! Eddie! Strong sexual content, blood play, unprotected p+v, choking, hair pulling, rough intercourse, fingering (f receiving, m receiving), masturbation, oral (f receiving *for now*), fight or flight responses, grief, thoughts of unaliving self & others, manipulation, violence, smut, some fluff, angst.

Summary: Full summary on Part One.

Word Count: 4.2k

Eddie Munson Masterlist

A/N: You guys are awesome and I love you and I’m so sorry this took forever. This is gonna have two more parts before it’s completed so it’s not over yet!

It had been a week since you saw Eddie. He didn’t come to your house, or make it known that he was there. You were getting worried; he had left your house so fast that night. You did what he had asked and told Dustin everything. Had explained to him about his soul, about how he made a deal with Vecna just to return to you. Dustin couldn’t believe it at first, and then started asking questions that you couldn’t answer. He asked why you hadn’t said anything before, and he wanted to tell Wayne, but you told him not yet. Not the way Eddie was now, you told him. He was too dangerous.

Another murder was committed, in the woods where Will Byers went missing all those years ago. It was a female, older, she wasn’t from Hawkins. The police said that she might’ve been a hitchhiker. It was the same scenario, barely any blood at the scene, body mutilated but her skin was pearly white. The police issued a curfew for everyone to be inside their homes at sunset, lock all the doors and windows. It was still Winter, and it got dark earlier, so your boss made you go home at two o’clock everyday.

It was freezing tonight, the heating system in your house was older than dirt and the highest it would get was maybe 70 degrees. You bundled up in a large sweater, wool socks and leggings. You stare blankly at the television, a rerun of I Love Lucy was on, but you didn’t pay attention. You were too worried about Eddie.

You didn’t know why, the Eddie who loved you and who you loved was most likely trapped inside his torture chamber in another dimension, and soulless Eddie was most likely roaming the town feasting on not so innocent individuals who maybe did deserve to die.

He was mean; he was dangerous, he was…

He was still yours.

A loud thump from outside startles you from your thoughts. You freeze on your spot on the couch, your eyes fixed on the front window. The thump is heard again, and you sprint off the couch. Stupidly, you go to the window and peek behind the curtain to get a view of your porch. The porch light was dim; the bulb needed to be replaced, but it didn’t stop you from a shriek escaping your lungs as you catch the silhouette of a person hunched over on your steps. The soft light reflects of the eyes and your heart is in your throat.

Eddie.

He’s moaning your name.

“…open…the fucking door!” His voice is muffled, and the only reason you sprinted to the door so fast was because he sounded like he was being maimed from the inside out. He was in so much pain, and you can see just how much as you open the door. He’s bent over your front steps, his fingers gripping at his stomach, a stream of blood was falling like a river through the gaps in his fingers. He’s paler than normal, he looks gaunt, monstrous.

“Please.” He begs, meeting your eyes and you run to him, practically dragging his body into your house, slamming your door shut. He collapses in the foyer and your eyes widen at the severity of his injuries. He’s covered in dirt, scratches adorn his cheeks, his neck. His shirt is ripped to shreds and dark with dried blood. He’s still gripping his stomach and you kneel down in front of him, trying to pry his hand away.

“No.” He groans through his teeth.

“Let me see.” You tell him, pulling his hand free and you gasp. There is a three-inch long gash across the middle of his stomach, any deeper and his insides would be on your floor. “What happened? Why aren’t you healing?”

“I don’t know.” He groans as you gently lean his back against the wall, looking more closely at his wound. “I think it was an animal, or some…thing. Just out of nowhere. I couldn’t see what it was it dashed through me like lightning…ow! Fuck! Don’t fucking touch me, you—“

You grip his chin hard in your hand and he flinches, almost smiling as you stare into his eyes with a hard stare. He was too weak to fight you back, and you used that your advantage. “I could just leave you here to bleed to death or do myself a favor and take that knife from my kitchen and slit your fucking throat because you’re already half dead, but I’m not gonna do that. You came to me for a reason, do you want my help or not?”

He grins, his teeth stained with blood. “I like it when you’re rough, should I bend over so you can fuck me too?” Your grip tightens on his chin, a low chuckle rumbles in his throat.

“Why aren’t you healing?” You ask him again.

“I don’t know.” He mumbles again and you pull your hand away. He’s skin was almost gray, you get to your feet, find a dishrag and soak it in water from the faucet. You kneel in front of him and his hand snaps up to grip your wrist hard. His eyes stare into yours, and you can almost see the pleading behind them.

“Let go of me.” You tell him.

“A rag soaked with water isn’t gonna heal me, princess.”

“It’s so you stop bleeding on my fucking floor, let go of me.”

You pull your wrist out of his grasp and he growls but doesn’t fight you. He flinches when you place the rag on his wound; you gently wipe his skin, and blood continues to pool from the gash. You’re worried now, what could’ve caused this injury?

You meet his eyes again, your heart racing. “Will my blood heal you?”

His eyebrows come together. “What?”

“My blood. If I give you some of my blood…will that…help you?”

He smirks at you, flinching again as a wave of pain hits him. “Won’t…know…until we try.”

You sit back on your bottom, moving your hair away from your shoulder, exposing your neck, your heart racing. He carefully moves towards you, and you tilt your head to the side. You close your eyes, feeling his breath close to your neck as his cold hand cups the side of your face. He startles you when you feel his lips press lightly against yours. It was a gentle kiss, a kiss you were more familiar with when it was your Eddie. He pulls away from you, and stares into your eyes. You have no words.

His fangs grow as he smiles and the peaceful feeling you had was now gone, replaced by some fear…excitement. His teeth graze your neck and you shudder. Before you have a second to think, he bites down and you feel your entire body become hot. He grips your hair, slowly moving on top of you as he continues to drink from your vein. You were trying to speak, but all that came out was a soft moan as an unexpected wave of pleasure forms in depths of your lower belly. He was grunting softly as his tongue laps the blood up from your neck. 

He was taking too much, you realize. Your head was buzzing, your fingertips were numb, you couldn’t feel your legs. “Eddie…”

He doesn’t hear you, he’s too busy enjoying this. Your nails dig into his back and you try to find as much strength as you can to get him to realize. You lift up your foot, and kick him hard in the leg, and you scream out his name. He flies off of you, you’re certain it was reflex because you’re not that strong. His back hits the cabinet doors, and you can’t move. Everything was getting dark. He says your name, and you try to focus.

His eyes are brown again.

“No. No. Oh no. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” His hands lift your head up and you blink back tears. “I’m gonna fix this, I’m gonna fix this.” You focus as he bites into his wrist, and you see the crimson fall from his veins.

“I don’t want to be…like you…”

“You won’t.” His voice sounds so far away. “Just drink, drink baby.”

You feel the blood against your lips and you weakly open your mouth, feeling its warmth drip slowly down your chin. He’s gently angling your head back so the blood goes down your throat, everything was still getting dark and you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

“Stay with me. Stay with me!”

He came back, your Eddie. He came back to you, but how long would he stay this time? How long until the monster that wears his face comes back to finish the job? You could already feel the affects of his blood, it was almost unbearable and it made your stomach churn but you couldn’t move.

“Are you…healing?”

“Yes.” His voice is shaky. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s okay.” You mumble, your eyes flutter and smile. “I can rest now.”

“Your color is coming back…”

“Eddie…”

“I’m here baby.”

“I can’t kill you…”

“Sweetheart…”

“There’s been more murders…curfew…what attacked you?”

You couldn’t hear his voice anymore, you were so sleepy. You felt lighter as you drifted off, calmer. You were Princess Aurora who just pricked your finger on the spindle, in a deep sleep; awaiting a kiss from your true love.

When you awoke, the sun was rising. Your body was sore; was last night a dream? You sit up, throwing the covers off of you. You feel your neck, there was no feel of a mark, or bandage.

“Finally, she arises.”

You yelp, almost falling off the bed but Eddie catches you. You stare at one another deeply, his discolored eyes staring into yours. You want to scream, wishing they were that beautiful brown again. Although, there wasn’t anything menacing about this stare; it was almost like he was studying you, like that good part of himself was slowly filling himself back up again as he looked at you.

He smirks at you.

“Boo.” He says and the breath from his lips causes your hair to move. You rip out of his grasp, pulling the covers back over yourself.

“You almost killed me.” You snap at him.

He grins, pacing around your bedroom, running his fingers along the top of your dresser. “But I didn’t. Your little boyfriend was there to save you. I was trying to figure out the blocks in my memory at the most random times, and then I realized it’s because of other me. He really gets bent out of shape when it comes to you, it’s gross.”

“Must suck, not being able to love someone that deeply.” You narrow your eyes at him.

He growls and he’s in front of you, you didn’t have a second to blink. His breath is against your lips as he leans in close to your face. “I know exactly how to love deeply. You have been unconscious for three days, if I wanted to kill you I could’ve. And if you haven’t noticed, sweetheart, your Eddie lives in the deep, deep depths of my dead heart so I can feel his love for you.” He almost looks pained as he’s telling you this, you hold his stare. “I could never kill you, and if you died... That’d be the end of me. Of us.”

You blink and almost smirk. “Bring him back then.”

“What?”

“Bring back my Eddie. If you really love me, you’ll bring him back.”

He laughs. “I’m not made of magic.”

“Aren’t you?” You counter. “He seems to pop up in stressful situations, he knows how to get out of that trap Vecna holds on you.”

His eyes narrow. “Don’t say his name.”

“Why not? He’s weak, practically dead, right? Why are you afraid of him?”

“I’m not.” His tone changes, it scares you and he smiles. His hand reaches up to smooth out your messy hair, he moves his mouth closer to yours. “I’m afraid of you.”

You tilt your head up to meet his eyes, awkwardly leaning back on the bed. “Why me?”

“So many fucking questions.” He sneers his lips barely grazing yours. “No matter which way this ends up, you will be the death of me.”

“Bring him back.” You whisper.

“No.” His cool fingertips glide up your neck and you shudder, your eyes fluttering closed. You feel his lips against your chin. “Tell me…” He kisses your skin gently and heat floods your cheeks. “How did he make love to you?” He moves behind you, his hands gliding around your throat before resting on your shoulder. He kisses the back of your shoulder, and you gasp quietly. “Was he soft? Did he worship every-“ you let out a moan as his fingers grip your hair in a ponytail and roughly pulls you back against his chest. “Inch of this beautiful skin?” You feel his tongue dance along the vein at your throat, his grip tightening its hold on your hair.

“Get your hands off of me.” You say through clenched teeth. Your nails digging into his thigh, but he doesn’t release his hold on you. His free hand glides over the fabric of your t-shirt, under the covers that shields your lap, and you hold your breath as you feel his fingers dance against your clit. He moans softly against your throat, and you lean your head back against his shoulder as he moves your lips apart, feeling the wetness that pooled inches from his fingers.

“Did he whisper that he loved you? Telling you how beautiful you are?” He rubs faster on your clit, and you moan loudly. The grip you had on his thigh loosens, and you knead at the fabric of his jeans gently.

“Y-yes.” You breathe out.

“Mmm.” He coos in your ear, and you turn your head towards his. His presses his lips against yours, kissing you sweetly as his other hand cups your cheek. You open your mouth with his, his tongue like silk against yours. Your hand moves lower to his crotch, and he lets out a breath into your mouth as you rub his erection through his jeans. You deepen the kiss, turning your body so you’re straddling him, his hand still not leaving in between your legs. He tries to pull away from you, but you pin your body closer to his. Your hand finds his zipper, and you miraculously expose him with just the flick of your fingers. And before he could object, you push his hand away from your clit and lower yourself onto him, feeling every inch of him burying in your cunt. He moans loudly, and you rock your hips. His hands grip your thighs hard as you pick up your rhythm, your skin was prickling with a sensation you couldn’t quite make sense of.

“You are one dirty girl.” Eddie whispers against your cheek, his breath hot. “Show me how you’d make him come.”

You groan, your head falls back and sweat forms behind your neck. You reach behind you, cupping his balls in his hands and he lets out a small laugh, his knocks his head off of your headboard as you continue lower and lower until your finger is at the opening of his ass. He gasps as you slide your finger into him. “Oh…my…”

“God?” You say, leaning forward to bite his lip. “I thought he didn’t exist.”

He whispers your name, and a low growl starts in his throat as you pump your finger faster, the angle causing him to rock his hips faster into you, causing you to scream out. He pushes his mouth to yours roughly, his fingers curl in your hair as he forces you on your back. He slams into your hard, your nails claw at his back through his t-shirt. Your blood sang, your entire body was vibrating, you wondered if maybe his blood was the cause of it. You feel your orgasm approach your core, and you feel him trembling.

A sudden thought pops into your head as he continues to move above you. If he wouldn’t bring your Eddie back himself, there had to be a way for you to bring him back. He seems to come back during stressful moments, but what if you could get him out of the upside down for good? Pull him out by using dark Eddie’s mind. You needed help though. You glance around your bedroom, your eyes fixing on the ceramic lamp that sat on your nightstand. His blood gave you a superhuman strength that he doesn’t even know about, and you knew if you used all the strength, especially while he was vulnerable, you could knock him out. His head was buried in your shoulder, and you carefully reach your hand towards the lamp. You realized how morbid this was, knocking him out while he was buried inside you.

Could be worse, you thought.

You are able to get a good grip on the base of the lamp, you turn your head to the side, squeeze your eyes shut and bring the lamp down as hard as you can onto his head. The lamp shatters in your hand and you knew immediately you had cut it; he goes limp on top of you.

Holy shit, it actually worked.

You wiggle out from underneath him, pushing him off the bed and onto the floor. You poke him with your toe. He didn’t even budge; you were relieved when you could see his chest rise and fall. You zip him up in his jeans, for his modesty. Blood drips from your hand as you stand over him, just watching him.

The taste of copper hits your tongue and you realize you’re licking your blood off of your hand like a starving dog.

What the fuck.

You rush to the bathroom, rinsing off the blood from your hands and wrapping it with a small towel. You get yourself dressed in decent clothes and go back to your bedroom where Eddie still laid unconscious. You pick up the receiver of the telephone and dial a number, you keep your eyes focused on him, your heart pounding in fear that he will wake up.

The person picks up on the other end.

“Dustin. I need your help. Bring bungee cords and duct tape.”

***

Dustin stares at Eddie’s unconscious body, he’s been staring at him with his eyes wide and puppy like for the last five minutes.

“Dustin?”

“Yeah?” You startled him, and he meets your gaze. “Sorry, it’s just…he’s…alive.”

“I know…well, partially, I guess. We have to get him downstairs.”

Dustin nods, you go by Eddie’s legs, and Dustin goes by his head. You both squat, grunting and you feel your legs almost give out as the two of you lift him off the ground. You didn’t think this through, Dustin scolds you as you awkwardly make your way towards the stairs. It was a struggle getting halfway, Dustin had lost his footing and the two of you squeal when you end up dropping Eddie down the rest of the way. The two of you just stare at the ground where he laid.

“Well, if he was waking up. He isn’t now.” Dustin says with a chuckle, and you groan, awkwardly dragging Eddie into the living room. Dustin gets a wooden chair from the kitchen, and you sit him upright. Dustin wraps the bungee cords around the chair legs and Eddie’s, continuing to look up at him to make sure he was still there. Your heart broke for him, for so long Dustin held onto a guilt that he couldn’t properly explain. Now, he still felt that guilt, and it was because Eddie didn’t come back as himself.

After the two of you had securely and tightly tied Eddie to the chair, you weren’t sure what to do now.

“Do you think this is gonna work? Do you think you can bring him back?” Dustin asks you.

You move Eddie’s hair from his face, his breathing coming out in soft waves. “They don’t like heat, right?”

“Right.”

“I have space heaters in the garage, go grab them.” You peel off your sweatshirt, going to the thermostat, turning the heat up to 90 degrees, it might work, it might not. It was a wait and see. “If he kills us, at least we know that we tried.”

“He won’t kill us.”

“You don’t know who he is now.” You look at Dustin. “He’d kill me out of love if it came down to it.”

“And you still love him?”

“Always.” You look back to Eddie. “Go get the heaters.”

You sit on the couch across from him, watching his chest slowly rise and fall. You hear the side door slam as Dustin goes into your garage.

You had a realization.

If this didn’t work, you knew you would have to kill him.

You didn’t want to admit that to yourself or to Dustin.

But you couldn’t do this anymore.

You missed Eddie. You missed the boy who walked into your life when you were fourteen years old who made you a flower out of guitar picks. You missed the man who carried you home from a house party when you were too drunk to walk. You missed the way he’d take strands of your hair between his fingers, tucking them behind your ear. You missed the way he would give you a certain look when you knew you were being crazy and unreasonable whenever you got into an argument. You missed the way he would kiss you. Really kiss you.

If you had to survive another minute with this Eddie, you’d rather suffer with the grief all over again than have to deal with a monster.

You take in a deep breath when you hear Dustin walk back in, and you feel the sweat pool behind your neck.

This was suicide.

But sometimes, you have to do crazy things for love.

The house was scorching, it had taken only fifteen minutes before the heat started to take full effect and Eddie began to move. Dustin was bopping his leg, the nerve settling in as Eddie groans. You had a knife next to you on the nightstand, ready to use it if needed. He lifts up his head, his hair falling into his face as he realizes his hands are tied tightly behind his back.

“What the…” he struggles in the restraints and then meets your eyes, and then Dustin. He laughs, a squeaky chuckle. “This is kinky, tying me up like this. Are you gonna watch?” He asks Dustin, his eyes lifeless and cold, a smirk on his lips. Dustin doesn’t move, his words are stuck in his throat. You move closer to Eddie, squatting in front of him.

“Bring him back.”

“That’s what this is about?” Sweat drops from his neck, you could tell he was uncomfortable. “You could’ve asked nicely.”

“I have.” You growl. “And I’m tired of asking. I’m tired of you.”

“Aww, break my heart.” He teases and struggles again. “You think these are gonna hold me? You’re stupid if you don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“I do know what you’re capable of. You almost killed me.”

You feel Dustin’s eyes on you, but you ignore him.

“But didn’t you want a forever ever after?”

“Not like that.”

“Pity.” He lets out a groan, his jaw clenches. “Turn the heat off.”

“No.”

He goes to launch for you, his fangs out but Dustin did a good job with the knots. You laugh at Eddie.

“Scared?”

“Not even close.” He growls, his eyes menacing, his teeth bared.

“Good.” You turn the knob on the space heater all the way up, the heat blasting and he lets out a sound you’ve never heard before. He struggles more, the veins in his neck bulging, his shirt was soaked with his sweat. “Bring him back!” You scream.

“Fuck you!” He yells at you and screams in pain. “Ughhhhhh, turn it off!”

Dustin jumps back. “It’s hurting him!”

“Don’t you fucking dare touch that!” You snap at Dustin who had reached for the heater.

Eddie lets out a psychotic chuckle, his fangs still exposed. “You’re both dead when this is over.”

You grab him by his hair, making him look at you. “I thought you couldn’t live without me?”

You take the space heater and push it against his chest. He screams, loud, painful, and he thrashes so hard he falls back to the floor. The chair breaks underneath him, but he’s still screaming. You push Dustin into the kitchen, the knife in your hand as Eddie struggles to break free. You keep Dustin behind you as you walk backwards when Eddie gets to his hands his knees.

He gags.

And then he vomits.

Black liquid spills out of his mouth and onto your floor, you both watch with wide eyes as his body heaves and it kept coming and coming.

Until it stops. 

His body is still heaving but he’s not moving, not trying to attack you, not screaming anymore. You couldn’t see his face; his hair shielded it like a blanket. You move towards him, but Dustin grabs your arm, fear in his sweet eyes.

You free yourself from his grasp and walk closer to Eddie. Your hand still gripped the hilt of the knife as you walk closer, hearing him breathing heavily, catching his breath.

His head whips up to you and you jump back.

His eyes.

They were brown.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fluff #eddie munson x smut #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson series #Spotify

[miradelletarot]

Sorry you’re having a bad time!

Write about Gale giving Tav (either Sagora or my Gale with Auroria bc multiverse) a flower for the first time 🌸

ok, I can't help it. This is gonna be a little Sagora x Gale moment. There's a time in the series when she gives him flowers so why not make a little treato where he gives her flowers! (After-story-was-written note: This REALLY got away from me, but clearly I am obsessed with these two, and I don't think there is any cure for me lolol.) *this is gonna be sappy, self-indulgent, sfw fluff. You have been warned.* It wasn't long after Gale showed Sagora the Weave when things started to change between them. He recalled the gentle brush of their hands as he marveled at her ability to channel it so easily. His cheeks burned as the Weave connected them, and he saw her thoughts. Thoughts of a shy, tender romance, and holding hands with the hope of something more. *** He followed her lead, leaning on her natural instincts to help navigate them through the unfamiliar landscape not far from the crashed Nautiloid. "Gale? Are you alright?" She noticed him falling behind occasionally. This time with his back to her, bent over into a cluster of shrubberies. Her face contorted into a concerned gaze. Hesitant - as if she worried her concern for him would be too intrusive. "...Is it the orb again?" He straightened immediately as he registered her soothing voice was directed at him, and hoped he was sneaky enough to conceal whatever he was holding behind his back without her noticing. "Hm?? Oh!" He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his empty hand. "Perfectly fine. The orb appears to be sated...for now." Sagora smiled as a breath of relief washed over her. "Good. I'm glad. Just...try to keep up, ok? It's not much longer 'til we reach the Mountain Pass." Gale nodded. "Apologies. Please forgive a wizard for being curious in an unfamiliar land." She flashed a shy smile before turning back to the front of the group, and forging ahead. He heaved a heavy sigh, grateful she was too far ahead to see the longing in his eyes. He looked down at his hand, and what he had gathered and smiled. *** The adventurers made camp before nightfall. The sky was clear with twinkling stars and the occasional stray feathery cloud drifting by. Everyone retired to their tents for the most part, nursing aching muscles, sharpening weapons, or catching up on old tomes pillaged from nearby ruins.

Sagora sat by the fire, staring into it as if she searched for meaning within the flames. "Am I interrupting anything?" Gale tilted his head down, examining her vacant stare as the fire reflected in her eyes. She looked up to see the face that matched the warm voice that snapped her out of her reverie, sighing with relief. "Sorry. No. Just lost in my thoughts. Well...if they're even my thoughts anymore." She paused, gazing back at the fire once more before looking back up at Gale inviting him to sit as she pat the ground next to her. Carefully, Gale lowered himself down to the ground, being thoughtful of his already aching knees. "Beautiful night tonight, isn't it?" He craned his head back to gaze at the endless sea of stars that hung overhead. "And I believe..." he drawled out, pointing towards the sky, "That's the Arrows of the Gods. Though it's...hard to make out from here. If we were in Waterdeep I could show you so many more constellations, and the story behind each one." He leaned in, playfully nudging her shoulder. "If you'd let me, of course." Sagora chuckled, smirking as she nudged him back, trying to make their dismal situation seem more lighthearted than it really was. "If we live long enough I might take you up on that, wizard." They laughed softly together as if they shared a secret before falling silent, and an uneasy tension floated between them. "I uhh...I got you something." Gale's face burned brightly as he fumbled with the bundle in his hands.

"For me?" He nodded, the luminescence from the orb peeking out over the collar of his velvety sleep shirt as his heart began to race. "I'm sure you could conjure these in your sleep. It's nothing really...I just...well, I thought these would cheer you up." He timidly handed her a small bouquet, one of each flower from the area, neatly arranged, and wrapped with a strip of leather he found among his spell components. She gently took the spray of wildflowers in her hands, gazing at them as she bit her lip, tears brimming, and threatening their descent.

"Gale...they're beautiful. Thank you." She smiled as their eyes met, the flicker of the nearby fire dancing in their eyes, mimicking the warmth they felt within. Sagora placed the flowers in her lap and whispered an incantation that blossomed a small, white daisy. The purple glow of the orb reflected off her skin as she leaned in and tucked the small bloom into Gale's hair. It took all of her willpower to resist the temptation to kiss him right then and there. Instead, she shifted her body closer to him and leaned her head on his shoulder, relishing in the comforting scent of parchment that seemed to be permanently nestled in his clothes. After a moment, she looked up at the sky and pointed at a different cluster of stars. "I think," she whispered. "I think that one is The Harp." He leaned his head over, resting it on top of hers. "Hmm...I think you're right."

<3

#i stg #These are my forever blorbos #I could write about them all fucking day #this was WAY longer than I expected #but I just couldn't. stop. writing. #LOL #sorry not sorry? #mira's ask box #ask mira #thank you for the ask! #writing prompt #bg3 writing #gale x oc #sagora x gale #gale romance #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gale #bg3 #bg3 gale #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate gale #baldurs gate

[krizariel]

Stripper jason dating CEO Timmy :X

Big thank you to @galkyrie for indulging my midnight jaytim brainworms, helping me make sense of them and adding more to it. This is basically me putting together our convo, so not much of a fic.

FYI, for those who care about this: This AU ended up being switch because we can't help ourselves hence why I tagged both jaytim and timjay. Generally my AUs are more vague on that regard but on this one there's mention of both dynamics so figured, fair warning on this one.

They met at a small party thrown by Dickie and Kory (dating or married idk, whatever fits your fancy) for Dickie’s birthday. Tim is like a little brother to Dick and by extension, to Kory. Jay is close friends with Roy and Kory.

Somehow Tim and Jay had never crossed paths before; with Tim taking over higher responsibilities at the company because his father is ready to retire and leave it all up to him - he is proud of his son and despite whatever Tim says, Jack knows his son is more than ready - Tim has been busy and barely had time to socialize and well, have a life out of work.

They start talking, they hit it off pretty well. Somehow what they do for a living didn’t come up in their conversation because they were too busy talking about their hobbies, Star Trek, AngBang (Sauron has a ship and Jason couldn’t stop talking about it) and  whether or not smore’s count as dinner.

They exchanged numbers but Tim never got to call him again until one night he saw him performing at the club. It was Tim’s birthday and as a surprise, his friend dragged him to a popular stripclub. Roy worked as a bartender there so he’d slip them free drinks every now and then.

When the show started, the room went crazy. Apparently, Jason was very popular and indeed, he was amazing. At some point Jason actually noticed him and even waved at him while he was spinning on the pole.

Steph: I’m sorry… did Mr. Beefcake actually waved at you!? 

Tim: Looks like it

Steph: YOU KNOW HIM?

Tim: Well, remember that guy I told you about that I kinda liked, mayyyybe had a little crush on?...

Steph: YOUR CRUSH IS A STRIPPER?

Tim: I DIDN’T KNOW THAT PART!

Tim was a bit embarrassed and figured it was probably for the best that he never called him to ask him out, as he saw Jay work and all his audience ogling over him… he didn't know how he felt about dating a stripper. Plus, who knows if he’d even be interested… he must have many people behind him and flirting and looking like a sin incarnate is part of his job.

They met again out of work but Jay didn't even want to talk to him again because he figured Tim was just another uptight asshole who just judged Jay for his job so he didn't call him again and avoided him. Tim felt like a real asshole and figured it didn't harm to be friends... Jay was really cool and Tim enjoyed his time with him. Tim apologized for how he came through at the beginning.

Since then, they became friends, sometimes they would text or meet for coffee. It’s not dating - he tells himself-  and every time he’d make a stop by the stripclub to grab a drink, hang out with Roy and Kory at the bar, ~~maybe catch a glimpse of Jay as he danced, flirted and got flirted back~~ he was always reminded of it.

Sometimes he’d get a lapdance himself. What’s the harm…nothing is gonna happen anyway. But oddly enough they’d mostly talk about their day. Tim would be the kind of guy that would sit on his hands to not touch and Jason found it really cute. He enjoyed teasing the little guy.

Other times, Tim pays for a private room/dance to give Jay an hour break from being on the floor, because he notices he is tired. Jason was surprised at first because he thought Tim was finally pulling moves on him but nope, instead he wants nothing but to give him a break and spend time with him, pulling his laptop to watch Star Trek since Jason hadn’t watched it and was interested. Jason just kept falling and falling for Tim’s little gestures. He knew Tim found him attractive, it was obvious, but he was always the proper guy, never making any advances, just making Jason feel cared… which WAS WORSE! because he was starting to imagine it was Tim instead of those men or women who’d he’d dance for. Jay just wanted Tim to fucking snap and fuck him senseless in that stupid couch from the private room. Meanwhile, Tim was starting to finally stop being in denial and was working out the courage to ask Jay on a date because he knows he caught feelings hard.

The next time Tim paid for a private dance, Jay was having none of it. He was going to put on a show and was determined to make Tim snap. 

Jason, rolling his hips so his abs are almost brushing Tim's face: who'd think a CEO would be so timid … (Art here )

All the while Tim’s hands are hovering over his skin and not yet touching. Jason's kind of expecting him to get aggressive, or super eager, once he does touch him, but Tim's almost reverent when his fingertips brush along his outer thighs. Tim really -really- wanted to ask Jason out first but he is just about to lose it. And he does, eventually, snap and fuck Jason senseless on the couch. While they are cuddling Tim finally tells him he has been meaning to work up the courage to ask him out... Tim just tells him he wants to date him for real, he deserves to be dined and wined and maybe they are doing all this out of order… and Jason doesn't know how to respond because how is this man so damn cute and yet so savage. Jason asks him if he is sure… he doesn’t want this to be a on-time thing but he’d understand. Most of his previous lovers have ended quickly because they tried to pull the “savior” card, couldn’t get past what he does for a living and he doesn’t have plans to change this for anyone. But Tim is sure, he thought about what this means and he really wants to try if Jay will have him. Tim brings Jason flowers when he picks him up for the date and opens his car door for him. Just total romantic shit that Jason should be too jaded to fall for, but...it's Tim.

So it works on him, because he's already gone on Tim.

By the fourth course Jason's already daydreaming about peeling Tim out of his fancy suit and having his way with him on whatever stupid fancy couch he has at his penthouse. When they get back to Tim's place and Jason eases himself onto the couch and pats his lap like: I think it's your turn to be the one in my lap Tim: hope I don't need to dance because let me tell you already, I suck. But Jay walks him through it, gives him directions and suddenly Tim is taking orders. He finds he likes giving away control if its Jay.

For a while they were dating secretly but it was just because Tim didn't want the inevitable attention on their relationship and wanted to have privacy for them to develop their relationship first. He respected Jay’s job, he did it because he liked it and he was certainly amazing at it - but then Tim realized Jay might not be ok with Tim always introducing him as a friend even among their close friends because he thinks Tim is ashamed so he took Jay as his date to a Wayne gala. And of course people around Tim take it as a license to badmouth Jay and mock Tim by insinuating they had seen all there is to Jay (since some of them apparently went to the strip club Jay worked at). Jay was actually very charmed with Tim because unlike other boyfriends he’s had, Tim didn’t try to make him quit his job. Truly it took a lot from Tim at the beginning to get used to Jay dancing and everyone ogling over him… sometimes some men or women would recognize him while they were on a date and talk so amicably with him essentially ignoring Tim’s presence…but Tim focused on the fact that only Tim got to see how Jay sang while he cooked; how he genuinely laughed like a dork; how he screamed Tim’s name when he reached climax, how he slept like a starfish, etc, and slowly found he loved that more than any jealousy or insecurity he could feel.

and if you missed it, timjay art here

#jaytim #timjay #jason todd #tim drake #not fic