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sanguineterrain · 8 months

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Feel like I’m so basic but Jason Todd with a crush and him having zero social skills and just being super clumsy despite being highly competent when he’s in the field. Crush is like real sweet and kind maybe a service worker ✨

anon u are so true and real for this bc jason is definitely an unsocialized cat when he has a crush 💓

jason todd x gn!reader. shyish/anxious jason with a big fat crush. baker reader. annoying customer. the duality of jason todd. 1.6k words.

also i fully believe that silently leaving huge tips as a way to flirt is like. a wayne trait. 100% that family does that bc of bruce.

prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

****

Business has been slow.

It's not like you expect your cafe to be packed to the rafters all day long, but you've had a grand total of four customers today. One of them only came in to ask where Starbucks was.

Frankly, you're not sure the cafe can afford to stay afloat for much longer. Gotham isn't known to preserve small businesses, and the conglomerates (cough, Wayne Enterprises) are taking over the world anyway.

So today is a reading day. You might even close early.

You're at a table in the back, so absorbed in Poirot's sleuthing that you don't hear the door open. It isn't until you turn the page and look up that you see your resident lurker waiting quietly at the display case. You flinch so hard that you spill iced tea on your jeans.

"Shit," you murmur, grabbing a wad of napkins and patting yourself dry.

Jason (as is written on his coffee cup) looks up from the pastries, teal eyes wide. You smile briefly at him. For such a big guy, his footsteps are astonishingly soft.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, voice rough like he doesn't speak much.

"Yeah, fine. You just startled me—I didn't hear you come in. Were you waiting long? Sorry about that."

"Oh. No, I wasn't. Sorry." He shifts weight between his feet. "You seemed pretty engrossed in your book. I didn't, uh, want to disturb you."

"Oh, hey, don't worry about that! It's literally my job to be here," you say, though you can't help but melt over how freaking sweet that is.

Jason visits you a minimum of twice a week. He's been coming for a couple of weeks. You know a whole three things about him: he's a university student, he pretty much only dresses in red or black, and he's unfairly cute.

At first, you were reasonably wary of him because it's Gotham, and he's so damn quiet. It's a little scary. You thought maybe he was an undercover spy casing the joint. Now you know he's just awkward.

"Slow day?" he asks.

"Slow year, more like. How are you? How was your exam?"

He blinks. "Exam?"

"Didn't you have an American lit exam last week?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Wow. Yes, I did. It was okay. Got an A."

"That's great! I knew you'd ace it."

His cheeks turn pink. Okay, you actually know four things about him: he blushes a lot.

You go to start the coffee machine. "Do you think you'll—"

"I-I have to go."

You watch, stunned, as he hurries out the door. That's when you notice the fifty dollar bill in your tip jar.

You don't know if you should bring up yesterday. Jason's back; that probably means everything's fine, right? You're not sure if you said something wrong, though. You've gone over the interaction a hundred times since and you can't figure out why he's so skittish around you.

"Hi. Hibiscus tea, please," he says, stoic as always.

You prepare his order, yesterday's interaction still fresh in your head. You should say something, shouldn't you? Or...

"Sorry about yesterday," Jason blurts, so fast you almost miss it. "Running out, I mean. I was, uh—I forgot something."

Well. Looks like he's going to bring it up for you.

"Oh, you don't have to apologize! If I said something wrong..."

Jason shakes his head fervently. "No, God no. You're perfect."

Your eyebrows shoot up. He turns red this time.

"I mean—not perf—well, you're amazing, don't get me wrong! Except, like, what is perfect, y'know? My brother has gotten into the habit of calling everything perfection like some kind of sitcom character. Alfred will make pie, and Dick'll go, "Alfie, that was perfection." And I feel like it's such an exaggeration—"

Jason's mouth snaps closed. He rubs his forehead.

"Um, I actually have chronic foot-in-mouth disease. It gets really, stupidly bad. Sorry."

You're trying hard not to giggle. You want to smother him in frosting and take a bite.

"You're really sweet, you know that?" you say.

"I'm really not," he says with a sigh.

"Not true. Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

You go into the kitchen and return with your latest experiment: matcha cream puffs.

"Do you mind trying these for me? You're not allergic to anything, are you?"

Jason's shoulders hunch. "Are you sure you want my opinion?"

"Of course I'm sure," you say happily. "I trust you."

"You trust me," he repeats quietly.

"Yup!"

Jason takes a puff and bites. He starts to nod.

"It's really good. You're really—all your creations are—yeah. It's good."

You squint. "No notes? Really?"

"They're perfection, as my brother would say."

Fuck, you like him so much.

"Have another one," you say, pushing the tray towards him.

"I shouldn't—"

"Wait! I'll pack you some!" you interrupt, flitting back to the kitchen to get a Tupperware.

Jason helplessly accepts the container of puffs you shove into his hands.

"Let me pay-" he tries to say, but you shake your head.

"Nope! I won't accept payment for these. Not from my favorite customer."

"Your favorite?"

"My favorite," you confirm, grinning.

"Oh." His ears turn pink as he walks to the door, cream puffs in hand. "Uh, right. Thanks. See you tomorrow."

"Jason? Don't you want your tea?"

"Shit. Yeah." He returns to the counter and takes his drink. This he insists on paying for, so you let him, because you do have rent to pay, after all.

"So nice to see you!" you add, because the stiffness in his gait is kind of throwing you off.

He just nods, slipping out the door as quietly as he came.

Today, Jason's in a red workout tank. You have to make the conscious effort to not ogle his arms.

"Hey, Jason!" you say cheerily.

"Hi," he says softly.

"The usual?" you ask, and he looks up in surprise.

"You know my order?"

You gently roll your eyes. "Of course I know your order, silly. Favorite customer, remember?"

"Oh." He looks away, brow furrowed. Then he turns to you and his expression smooths over. "Yes, please. Thanks."

"Sure. Give me one second? I just have to finish decorating some sugar cookies."

"Take your time," Jason says, then goes to skulk by the window.

The door is suddenly swung harder than necessary, thumping the glass.

"Hey!"

You look up from the cookies. A man in a suit is waving his phone impatiently.

"I ordered a dozen muffins. Where are they, huh?" he demands.

"Oh, right! Well, you called ten minutes ago, so they won't be ready till six, sir. Can I get you something while you wait?"

He scoffs and stomps to the counter. You almost back down, but you don't; that's exactly what these bullies want.

"This is exactly why no one eats at dinky cafes like yours. You can't even do this!" he fumes, shoving a finger in your face.

"Sir, like I said, the muffins are baking..."

"I know the city's health inspector personally," the man spits viciously. "One call, and I can—"

"Say one more word."

You blink as Jason is suddenly between you and the customer, stood at his full height. He's all muscle and broad shoulders, looming over the guy. You peek around him.

"What the fuck, man?" the angry customer squawks. "Move!"

"No, you move," Jason says, tone lethal. "Sit quietly at a table and wait for your muffins to bake. Then you can thank the nice baker for waiting on your sorry ass and you're not gonna come back. They have far more patience for entitled fucks than I do."

"Fuck you," the man spits.

Jason calmly closes the distance between them and whispers in his ear, hand like a vice around the jerk's shoulder. You watch as he turns pale, eyes growing wider.

"Sound good?" Jason asks pleasantly, all teeth. The man gapes at him.

Wow. Yeah. This is really doing something for you.

The oven dings. You go to retrieve the muffins, packing them as quickly as possible. You give him the box and the man nods.

"Thanks," he mumbles, then scurries out of the store.

Jason turns to you, and it's like looking at a completely different person.

"You okay?" he asks, posture stiff like he's still prepared for a fight.

You nod, a little dazed.

"Yeah. Wow. Jason, I... you didn't have to do that. I mean, thank you for doing it, but..."

"Hey, that guy was a jackass. And if you have trouble with him or anyone else, call me, okay?"

This side of him stuns you. If you didn't know better, you'd think he had this exchange regularly.

"Call you?" you ask, smiling. "How will I call you if I don't have your number?"

He freezes, eyes wide. "Oh. Uh. Um..."

You lean over, elbows on your counter. He watches you. You cup your hand around your mouth, pretending to divulge a secret.

"This is where you, the cute guy who frequents my struggling cafe, gives me your number."

"You think I'm cute?" he asks.

"Devastatingly so," you say, grinning.

He's quiet for a long moment. Your smile starts to dim.

"Did I read this wrong?" you ask. "If I came off too strong..."

"No!" he says a little too loud. Jason winces. "Sorry. No. I... you're... fuck, I'm not good at this. I don't even really drink tea or coffee, to be honest. I just come in to see you."

"You do?"

Jason sighs. "Yeah. Shit. That's creepy, isn't it?"

You laugh and he visibly softens.

"No, Jason," you say warmly. "It's sweet."

"So can I still ask you on a proper date? Not coffee."

You grin. "That would be perfection."

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #batman fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #jason todd fanfiction #coffee shop au #bakery au #dc fanfiction #inbox #blurb

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coolprettyleo · 19 days

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we can't be friends (wait for your love) - luke hughes

luke hughes x reader

wc: 1.5k

tw: angst. fluff. arguing. breakup. no happy ending. not really proofread, got tired lol

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

your life had been going good, a little too good. you should have knew all too well that the daydream you had been in weren't going to last much longer.

luke hughes. the man who had stolen your heart and gave you the best memories a boyfriend could give a girl like you. for someone who's thought themselves to be the biggest hopeless romantic, meeting luke had been the light in your life.

you had met the younger hughes brother at a frat party. he had been running off a high after a good game and his normally reserved nature had cracked due to the adrenaline from the win, it gave him the confidence to flirt with you.

initially, you had thought he was going to be a casual hookup. you were taught the hookup culture early into your freshman year, when you thought the frat guy you slept with at your first ever party the night before was going to give you the time of day, once the cloths came on.

news flash you learnt something that day. men are sluts.

so when the star hockey player started flirting with you, you had thought it to be just another guy who wanted a hookup. you ultimately decided to live out your fourteen year old selves Wattpad dream and entertain the cute curly haired boy.

you were surprised when you opened instagram the morning after to find he had requested you and from there on out, the rest was history.

it didn't take long for you guys to become the golden couple of the university. you attended his games wearing his jersey, met each others friends and families, and most importantly fell in love with one another's nature.

everything was going perfect for the two of you, until the real world decided it wanted to slap you both across the face. hard.

luke's passion was and will always be hockey. you knew that when you met him and ultimately decided to jump into a relationship with him. you loved every part about him, including hockey; it's what made him, him.

the sport didn't come between the two of you until he moved over six hundred miles away to play it.

you knew it was coming, you've both talked about it but unfortunately talking about it and actually saying goodbye is two very different things.

you loved the curly haired boy but you were beginning to wonder if it was all even worth it anymore. it was clear long distance was not working in your favor.

it had been almost a year since he started with the devils. a year since it all went to shit. a year since this 'rough patch' as luke liked to call it started. surely a rough patch couldn't last this long?

long distance usually makes a couple or it breaks them. it seemed to be breaking the two of you.

you rarely got to see your boyfriend due to the fact he's glued to the team during the season, so it was up to you, to fly out and see him.

you hated flying. so almost every time, your stress levels shot through the roof causing the worst headache known to man kind to come across you. automatically putting you in a sour mood when landing.

flashback

"i don't understand why you're being like this, this whole thing is planned around the fact that the team wants to meet you!" luke said exaspertly as he helped her load her bags in his jeep. he talked about you so much that when jack opened his mouth about you coming to visit, the wags were quick to plan a get-together, and you had just said you weren't up for it.

"i'm sorry luke but I feel like crap. i dont want to put up a character and meet new people right now"

"then don't put up a character, be yourself. that's who I fell in lov-" he said as you rolled your eyes, wincing; seeing as it didn't help the slamming feeling in your head.

"I don't want to Luke!" you cut him off. luke took a deep breath and texted jack to let them know you guy's wouldn't be making it.

looking back at it now; it wasn't that serious. but that headache couldn't make you think straight. that had been the first fight between the two of you. you're pretty sure thats when all his friend deemed you to be the villain and told him he deserved better.

you began to believe that and you knew luke did too. you just wanted this story to die, you knew you'd be alright.

luke on the other hand was clinging to every inch of you he could get; while you clinged to your papers and pens; writing about your misery.

you loved to write so of course you were going to pour your emotions into these stories. hoping the book would understand better then Luke ever could.

you two were laying in his bed, cloths sprawled out across his bedroom floor.

you had landed in jersey last night, ready to pretend and be the picture luke painted of you.

the two of you had the best night, it had been a while since you last seen him and an even longer while since you last seen him and everything felt... right.

you should of known a storm was brewing.

you were leaning your head onto his bare chest, legs tangled between each other as you played with his curls, looking up at him. he was growing into being the most handsome man.

"im so happy your here" he said tracing down your arms.

"me too. I missed your face" you said as you leaned up and kissed his jaw as he blushed. moments like these made you want throw away all the doubts you had about the relationship.

"me too. i can't wait to wake up next to you everyday" he said as your blood ran cold. you were tired of tiptoeing and hiding around the fight you knew was to come.

he'd been wanting you to move to jersey since he moved, the only problem being, is that you didn't want to.

"what's wrong" he said as you moved away his heart falling too his stomach.

"remember how I told you I wanted to graduate first?" you said nervously. he knew you were going to graduate early and the excuse of school was soon going to expire.

"yeah, thats pretty soon. we need to start looking for a place, by the way-"

"luke-" you started, wanting to stop it before it got any further.

"I think it'll do good for jack and I to get space" he said jokingly as he kept rambling,

"I know you've always wanted to live in manhattan, we can get a place there, i can commute-"

"im not coming here after graduation" you said with watery eyes.

you were the villain, at least in this story.

you wanted to experience life. you were only twenty one and the idea of that part of your life ending before you even got to begin it made you want to spiral.

"im sorry?" he said looking at you like you just killed his childhood dog. he would wait for your love a million years, if thats what it took.

"luke- im sorry, but I want to experience things. i want to live this life and know every corner of it-"

"i don't understand. why can't we those things together?"

"im sorry" you said standing up, not really sure what to do anymore.

"are we breaking up" he said with a straight face. you knew he was holding back tears.

"for now, yes" she told him as he put his head down.

you weren't heartless, so you took a seat next to him as you wrapped an arm around him.

"hey, look at me luke. this isn't the end, I'll still always care about you, I want to see you succeed hughsey" you told him as he remebered the night he met you and you called him that.

___

future

luke had been doing amazing; breaking records in the NHL and living life like anyone his age should be. his life was going good.

he obviously missed you but he soon learned he was going to be alright, even though a part of him waiting for your love. your love to like him again.

the smarter part of him knew better, the story was over.

he got home from a game that had went amazing for him and set his stuff down as he opened instagram.

the very first picture being, one of you and your new boyfriend. he knew you moved on and moved to nyc. he's actually ran into you before, both of you acting like you didnt break each others heart into a million peices. acting like old friends.

the reason the picture made his heart drop was due to the fact you were holding up a ring as you looked into the eyes of another. another who wasn't Luke Hughes.

he couldn't do it. he tried, he really did. he wanted to see you succeed and live like you wanted, he just couldn't bare to see it without him in it.

he clicked on her profile as he hovered over the unfollow button. he oh so desperately wanted to pretend to be this daydream but he was reminded of the fact their story had ended. he hit the button and knew he'd be alright.

we can't be friends (wait for your love)

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

this was inspired by an edit I saw on tiktok, and obviously the song too lol. I can't find the edit but like yeah!

#nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey fic #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #new jersey devils #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #jack hughes #hughes brothers #njd #jack hughes x reader

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osaemu · 6 months

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KAMISATO AYATO: BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME!

.ೃ࿐ modern!au: you run into your ex-best friend's brother after a long time

contents: fem!reader. use of she/her pronouns. ayaka's a little ooc. this was supposed to be 800 words but ended at over a thousand..

author's note: comm'd by @/kruinka, thanks for the trade!!

"shit, i'm so sorry—"

you look up sheepishly at the man in front of you, wincing when you see the dark, coffee-scented stain on his crisp white shirt. your face burns in embarrassment as you trip over your words, coming to a halt when you see his face.

a name registers in your brain, but you don't actually connect it to him until he clears his throat and starts to speak. "ah, don't worry about it. i have a lot of these shirts," he says awkwardly.

kamisato ayato.

your ex-best friend's older brother.

ayato tilts his head, soft blue eyes surveying the brown liquid dripping down his chest before looking at you. thankfully, there's no sign of recognition in his face as he offers you a comforting smile. "really, there's no need to look that horrified. you're fine."

"i'm so sorry," you mumble, setting the half-empty coffee cup on a table nearby before snatching a couple napkins and stiffly handing them to ayato. "i should go."

you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and start turning around before he calls "wait," essentially forcing you to stay back. ayato studies your flustered expression intently, and unfortunately, luck doesn't seem to be on your side today.

"you're my sister's friend, right?" he asks, looking down at you thoughtfully. you bite the inside of your cheek and force yourself to shrug. it'd be rude to leave now, especially since ayato's made that connection between you and his sister.

he dabs one of the napkins on his shirt, but it only makes the brown spread from his shirt to the cuff of his sleeve. you curse profusely in your head, but common courtesy forces you to take another napkin and help him out.

"so," ayato continues, "what did that mean?"

you pause, looking up at him with a confused look on your face. ayato smiles ruefully and clarifies, "why'd you shrug?"

shit.

"oh," you say nonchalantly, busying yourself with folding another napkin and soaking the coffee from his shirt into it. "nothing."

"really," ayato deadpans, slipping his hands into his pocket. "am i supposed to believe that?"

"really!" you insist, pressing the napkin into his chest a little harder than you meant to.

the truth was that it wasn't nothing — in fact, far from it. you and ayaka had a pretty bad falling out, and worst of all, it was over him.

just under a year ago, you had offhandedly told another friend that you sort-of liked ayaka's brother (even though he was older than you by a couple years). it wasn't supposed to be a big deal, but of course, word got around that you found you had a crush on your best friend's brother. naturally, ayaka was pissed, but in your eyes, it wasn't a big deal and it wasn't even a real crush.

but rumors change stories, and what once was said to be a crush was now viewed as true love. people told ayaka that you wanted to marry her brother, and as word got around more and more, the stories just kept getting worse.

you never did find out if ayato heard the rumors. maybe ayaka told him, or maybe she didn't see the need to bother her big brother with matters as trivial as you.

"it doesn't look like it was nothing," ayato presses, a soft lilt of amusement coating his words. "tell me, pretty please? i'd love to get some dirt on my little sister."

ayato grins, widening his eyes playfully as he begs you to tell him. "c'mon, you just ruined my shirt. the least you can do is tell me what happened between you and my sister."

you shake your head, and ayato groans stubbornly. "you owe me," he tries, but you still don't reply. "please? it can't be that bad."

"oh, it's bad," you say dryly, flicking two soiled napkins into a nearby trash can. "i wouldn't want to ruin your opinion of me this soon."

ayato scoffs, removing his hand from his pocket and grabbing your chin. a little hm? escapes from your lips, and it makes ayato laugh. he eyes you pleadingly, and although you know enough about him to know that this is all just a means to an end, your heart still skips a beat at the way his cool fingers grasp at your skin.

"what are you—"

"tell me," he breathes, cutting you off as he leans in teasingly. ayato knows exactly what he's doing, and the way he sees it, there's no reason why he can't make his sister's friend (or not) blush just a little. it's cute, really, the way your breath catches in your throat. and maybe the way he can practically see the gears turning in your head makes him smile.

"ayato," a familiar voice calls from the coffee shop doorway. "what's taking you so lo— what is going on?!"

you stumble back from ayato, eyes widening in surprise at the all too familiar voice of your ex-best friend. ayaka pauses for a second, surveying the scene before narrowing her ice-blue eyes at you.

"so, ayato," she says, resting both of her hands on her hips. ayaka turns to her brother and glares at him. "wanna explain why you're flirting with her?"

ayato laughs and gestures at the coffee-colored stain on his shirt before turning to you and offering an apologetic smile. "looks like i'm the one who should get going. we should do this again sometime."

he waves bye, and you nod in response. ayaka gives you a suspicious look before looping her arm in her brother's and sweeping him away. they gradually fade into the distance, and you eventually leave.

a couple hours later, you recieve a text.

hey it's ayato, got your number from ayaka

you wanna treat me to boba tmrw? then you can tell me everything ;)

#osaemu #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #ayato x reader #ayato x you #ayato x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x you #kamisato ayato x y/n #ayato kamisato x reader #ayato kamisato x you #ayato kamisato x y/n

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mitsies · 7 months

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❊ ikea kitchenettes & everything in between - aki hayakawa . . aki's going to break your new oven before you get a chance to use it.

warnings: very suggestive because let's bffr that's what we all want

men are too proud for their own good, you think. and to your misfortune, your fiancé is no exception.

beep. beep. beep.

the sound of buttons being furiously smashed picks up, to the point where you can hear it from beyond the shiny new kitchen island. it's a new apartment, full of shiny new appliances, which clearly are causing the love of your life a fair amount of strife.

from your position slouched onto the pillows on the floor (a substitute for a couch, before yours comes in) you can see silky black hair, a little bit creased by the hair tie that usually holds it in place, and hands carding through dark locks in frustration. you have to bite your lip to hold back a smile.

"everything good back there, aki?"

at your voice, his full face pops out from above the kitchen island. amber kitchen light shines dimly from bulbs yet to be replaced. he looks disgruntled, to say the least. you can't hide your amused expression when he states, "i think the oven is broken."

"but it's brand new?"

he sighs and places his hands on his hips. "they must've given us a defective one."

you're more than skeptical. he's more than certain. with a sigh, you rise from your seat on the make-shift couch and walk to the opposite side of the kitchen island, leaning over it to see what he was doing. a tray of vegetables sits on the middle rack of an unlit oven, and the screen on the side reads blank.

"it's fine. i'll figure something out; finish your reports," he says, watching as you come over to the oven's side and bend to check it out. you turn to him. "no, don't worry. this won't take long."

it's with great amusement that you press the big, obvious, glowing white 'power' button on the side of the oven's interface which illuminates the inside and turns it on. and it's with even greater amusement that you watch aki's face go so, so sour, as if he's just taken a bite of the biggest lemon set to be roasted on the tray.

"yeah," you muse, standing back up, "i think it's broken too."

you can't help the laughter that escapes your throat at his expression. you allow yourself to lean into his side as his eyes are narrowed and fixed onto the fully functional oven. wordlessly, his arm moves to accommodate you with an arm loosely draped around your waist. a natural reflex, at this point.

"i'm sure you'd have figured it out eventually." aki finally looks at you, breath ghosting your forehead.

"mhm. you knew all along. do you enjoy messing with me? watching me struggle?"

"what— hey!"

it's weird, to think about how a little over a year ago, you'd never even considered being here, in this position. if you told past-you that only six seasons in the future, you and your work crush would be a couple, living in a new apartment, with a new oven, and a kitchen so empty but somehow so, so full of love, you'd never believe it. if someone told you that the aki hayakawa would be comfortable enough to hold you so close, to plant a ginger kiss on your forehead like he's doing now, to joke around with you, to smile with all his teeth around you, you would laugh.

but that was then, and this is now. and this— this is real.

his lips are warm, if a little chapped, as they plant a gentle kiss to your forehead. his hold on your waist tightens, just a little, but enough to make you wish your bed was fully assembled. what you do have, though...

you beam at him. "how long will those vegetables take?"

he glances at the oven. "root vegetables'll take maybe 25 minutes. why?"

your smile gets bigger. "that's enough time for me."

"time for what?"

you don't answer, opting to take his hand and pull him to the empty space outside the kitchen that should be a living room. well, empty save for a stack of papers and a set of very big, very soft pillows.

his face goes red. "no. you have paperwork to do. i have dinner to make."

but his grip on your hand tightens. and you know him well enough to be able to tell that he's hiding a tiny little smile.

"it's our apartment. our rules. and i want you to kiss me."

men are too proud for their own good. and even though aki is no exception, you find that his resolve is easily destroyed— only when it comes to you.

flowers chosen: sunflowers (small and tall) & yarrow . . adoration, haughtiness, and everlasting love

❊ send a request! ❊ 5k masterlist ❊ event info ❊

#aki hayakawa x reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #aki x reader #hayakawa aki #csm aki #aki #hayakawa aki x reader #chainsaw man #csm fanfic #aki fluff #chainsaw man fluff #chainsaw man fic #reader insert #mitsies 5k

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lovebugism · 1 year

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Some blurb with grumpy fem reader and sunshine eddie?

He's constantly flirting with her and she only teases him or talking him down.

One time some cheerleader trying to flirt with Eddie and reader is so possesive, taking his hand and walking away. Eddie is wide-eyed, big smirk on his face and going after her with jumpy steps full of joy.

✶ ┄ SHE'S SO UNUSUAL !

summary: eddie's pretty sure he's loved you since the day he met you. you're pretty sure love is a neurochemical con job pairing: eddie munson / f!reader word count: 2.8k warnings: none? maybe just the faintest hint of angst? a/n: let's play a game of spot the steven universe reference because a clip popped on my tiktok fyp a couple days ago and even though i've never seen it, i simply haven't been able to stop thinking about it <3 anyways thanks so much for your request! hope you enjoy!

( BLURB SLEEPOVER ) | ( MASTERLIST )

Eddie’s pretty sure he’s loved you since before he understood what the word really meant. He didn’t know a lot of things, really, especially not as a lanky-limbed teenager trying hopelessly to navigate puberty in a world filled with assholes and uncertainty.

The only thing he could be certain of was all the love he had for you.

He’s seventeen and hopelessly stupid and you’re beautiful and eons out of his league. He concludes that having the majority of your gen-ed classes has to be fate and that making fun of you is the easiest way to talk to you without feeling like he needs to throw up.

So he takes to bothering you every day before class and sitting at the table beside you — despite the fact that it had been assigned to someone else at the beginning of the school year — until the teacher ultimately gives up and lets him sit next to you. He pokes fun at your Blondiemerch and how the same She’s So Unusual Cyndie Lauper cassette has been in your walkman for a week straight and the way you dot your eyes with pretty little hearts.

Every joke is sprinkled with the faintest hint of truth, though.

He tells you that he hates Blondie but that the shirt looks good on you, because everything you wear looks good on you. He says it’s hilarious that you can’t seem to listen to anything other than Cyndie Lauper but that he understands because he’s been obsessed with Metallica lately — and that he’d love to show you some of their music sometime. He says only children put hearts over their i’s, but that it's real cute when you do it, when you do anything.

“You’re so annoying,” you inevitably tell him with the roll of your eyes when he tells you exactly that. He can’t tell if the way the corner of your lip quirks up is from a half-concealed smile or a look of disgust.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he shrugs and knocks his leather-clad shoulder with yours. “It’s not my fault that I’ve been in love with you since the moment I saw you. Actually, now that I think about it, it’s kinda your fault.”

He says it all with a playful lilt to hide how much he means each word. That he’s in love with you and has been since you were in middle school, when he had a godawful buzz cut and loving Rocky Horror Picture Show was your entire personality — at twelve.

“Love at first sight doesn’t exist,” you argue while you mindlessly jot down notes from the textbook spread open between you, dotting every i with a practiced heart. “Love takes time and work. At the bare minimum, you should at least probably know the other person — and you don’t have a single clue who I am.”

He’s momentarily knocked asunder at your words, at how profound they are. It’s like a century-old philosopher is using a pretty highschool aged girl as a mouthpiece, and it only makes him love you more.

“Well, I could get to know you,” he retorts with a frown. “You just won’t let me.”

“Did you hear anything I just said?” you squint over at him.

“Yeah. That love takes time,” he echoes and a grin pulls slow at his lips. “Good thing we’ve got all the time in the world, sweetheart.”

When two years fly by, and you’re finally a senior (and Eddie’s repeating his last year of high school over again because the one before it knocked him on his ass), you realize that he wasn’t kidding around. He still tries hopelessly to get to know you and jokes that he’s a second-year senior only because he “didn’t want to leave you behind.”

“Couldn’t just leave you by yourself, sweetheart,” he says with a defiant shake of his head. “No way. Not with Jason Carver and all the other freaks roaming around here.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they’re the freaks here, Eds,” you monotone as you put in the combination for your locker.

He immediately notices the use of the nickname. It took you a year to call him anything other than Munson, and now he’s moving into Eds territory? It feels like his heart might burst. But you don’t seem to notice it so Eddie decides to keep it to himself, like sunshine in his pocket, lest he brings it up and he never gets to hear it again.

He presses a hand to his chest and leans in next to you. “Ouch, babe. I’m wounded. Truly. Sorry for wanting to protect a sweet little thing like you.”

You scrunch your nose and swat his hand away when he tries to squeeze your cheek.

“Some would say I actually need protecting from you.”

“I am capable of pretty dangerous things, sweetheart.”

“Like what?” you scoff.

Eddie only grins. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You ignore the chill that his words shoot down your spine and pretend to be unbothered by the way they make your heart race. You choose to roll your eyes at him and stuff your arms with textbooks. “You better have a massive dick to back up that attitude, Munson, or people are gonna be real disappointed.”

“And by people you mean you, right?”

“Obviously not,” you monotone.

“Well, joke's on you, I’ve already disappointed everyone I know.”

“That’s not true, Eds—” you shoot back but then swallow the words when you realize you were about to say something too sweet. “There are billions of people in the world you haven’t met yet. There’s still plenty left to disappoint.”

“You’re real sweet, you know that?” he jokes with a smile. “Besides, if you’re really worried about the size of my dick, we can always break out a ruler and, you know, test your theory.”

“Ooh, sorry,” you wince. “I left my magnifying glass at home. Maybe some other time?”

“How about tomorrow?” he answers quickly and easily falls into step with you when you shut your locker and head towards your next class.

“I have a date tomorrow, actually. No can do.”

His heart stops and his throat swells and he forgets what words are for a moment or two. He can only blink at you for a few seconds. “A— A date?”

“Uh-huh. Jason Carver. He asked me out this morning.”

“You’re kidding,” he retorts bitterly with a scowl on his face. Then you start laughing at him and the world starts spinning again. He starts laughing too, but it’s more of a sigh of relief than anything else. “You— You are kidding?”

“Obviously I’m kidding,” you shove him. “Hell will freeze over before I am willingly anywhere around that guy.”

Eddie’s freshly beating heart starts to swell. It feels like more of an honor than it already has been, for you to want to willingly be around him.

“Oh, so you were just trying to make me jealous, then?” he squints over at you.

This time, you’re the stuttering mess as you try to figure out what to say.

He chuckles at you. “Because it worked, sweetheart.”

A couple of months or more go by and graduation nears — well, for you. Eddie’s still hellbent that he’s going to have to repeat another year, but you’ve made it your mission to get him to pass English.

He doesn’t even mind that it means he actually has to do the homework, as long he gets to spend time with you in the Hellfire room after school or share a snack with you at the picnic tables at Forest Hill.

It’s got him living in a state of grandeur. He’s hopelessly deluded, not only that he’s in love with you, but that you’re in love with him. And, for obvious reasons, you know that can’t be true.

Neither of you can be in love because you’re kids and you’re stupid and you don’t know a single damn thing about anything, let alone something as trivial and philosophical as love. It’s a neurochemical con job, everyone knows it. It’s not real.

Everyone thought Nancy and Steve were in love at one point, and then she called him bullshit at a party before fucking off with Jonathan Byers.

Everyone thought Jason and Chrissy were in love, too — that they would be everything Steve and Nancy couldn’t — and then she dumped him in front of the entire school after catching him being an asshole to a bunch of Hellfire club freshmen.

So, obviously, no one knows what love is.

And by that logic, they can’t know when they’re in it either.

So you chalk up the butterflies and burning cheeks you always get around Eddie to being a dumb teenager who’s lonely and touch starved. Because it’s not love. It just can’t be.

Eddie begs to differ, though, and he swears he’s got the test to prove it.

It’s the spring assembly at Hawkins High, which means everyone’s gathered in the gymnasium on bleachers that are not nearly big enough to accommodate everyone, doing fuck all and grateful for not having to do any actual work.

The cheerleaders do a couple of dances, the basketball team prances around the court — it’s all hopelessly pedestrian as far as you’re concerned.

You and the rest of Hellfire are located at the very top of the bleachers, as far away as you possibly can be from whatever the hell is going on below you. It checks out, though, because everyone else opts to keep their distance from the lot of you, too.

And you’re not exactly sure how the conversation started, but somehow you end up talking about crushes, and Eddie makes the too bold proclamation that you’ve got the fattest crush on him of all people.

“Leave her alone!” Dustin scolds him over the band, the only one actually trying to stick up for you. “Maybe this is something you should discuss, I don’t know, in private?”

You roll your eyes. “There’s no need. Because I don’t have a crush on you, Eddie Munson,” you tell him, stern and unwavering, as you squint over at him. Your glare follows the boy as he paces up and down the bleachers, two levels below you. “Sorry to bruise your ego.”

“Oh, so you won’t care if I tell Chrissy that I wanna take her on a date?” he asks you with a knowing grin.

“Why would I care?” you retort, then grumble. “It’s not like she would say yes anyway.”

“Well, she did ask me first.”

That quietens you instantly “…You’re lying.”

“Wanna bet?” he teases and leans down, resting his weight on the seating in front of him, until his face is level with yours. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the mint gum he smacks between his teeth.

If you were alone — and in some godawful teenage drama — you might’ve pulled him in for a kiss right there. At least, that’s what your brain tells you to do because your lips have started to tingle just thinking about it.

You hope Eddie hasn’t noticed the way your gaze falls on his own pink, plump, and very kissable ones. But the grin that paints his features then tells you that he has.

You play it off with a stoic expression and crossed arms. “Chrissy going from dating the captain of the basketball team to the town’s local freak would be an unprecedented low.”

“I’ll be sure to tell you all about our trip to Lover’s Lake tomorrow morning, sweetheart, don’t worry your pretty little head,” he promises before rising and spinning on his heels. He makes the trek to the lower level of the bleachers — a feat made more difficult by the crowd and the distance between it and him.

He makes sure to turn and look back at you every now and again, to make sure that you’re still watching him. You are. Of course, you are. And you hope the seething anger in your chest doesn’t show on your face.

“He’s not actually gonna ask her out, right?” Mike wonders.

“No way,” Dustin denies with the shake of his head. “The president of Hellfire can’t date a cheerleader… Right?”

Gareth shrugs. “He’s obviously bluffing.”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t do that,” Jeff agrees. He turns to look over at you. “He’s been in love with you since middle school. He just wants to upset you.”

“Well, it’s fucking working,” you grumble under your breath. Your heart races and your vision swims as you watch him near the group of cheerleaders sitting on the floor of the gym.

You want to believe that he’s bluffing, you really do, but you don’t doubt that Chrissy’s asked him out.

After she dumped Jason, she’d gotten strangely protective over the Hellfire club — constantly making an effort to talk to them all, ensuring that the rest of the school wasn’t acting total assholes around them. Hell, she’s even started being nice to you and you weren't even in the damn club.

She’s been hanging around with Eddie a lot more lately, catching up in the library and ranting about tests between classes. Everyone’s seen it. You’ve seen it. And it’s made you unbelievably jealous.

Maybe you never noticed it before now because you used to be the only girl interested in talking to Eddie. But now he’s got the head cheerleader around to keep him company, to ask him out on fucking dates, and it leaves you seething in your rage.

And if love is anger, then you’re head over heels for Eddie Munson.

You rise suddenly from your seat and shove your way through the bleachers, muttering lackluster excuse me’s under your breath as you go and elbowing those who refuse to get out of your way.

You reach Eddie just before he’s about to tap on Chrissy's shoulder. You take that hand and nearly jerk it from its socket the way you pull at him. Eddie is stunned, for all of half a second, thinking it must’ve been a fuming Jason Carver at the force of the grip around him.

But it’s just you, all but dragging him out of the gymnasium with the strength of ten men in one angry teenage girl, and it makes him smile so hard it hurts.

He traps the grin between his teeth and locks eyes with the rest of Hellfire from across the room. He brings two fingers to his forehead in salute before he’s pulled out of the gym entirely.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he teases as you lead him down a long hallway. “Thought you didn’t give a shit if I asked her out?”

You don’t respond to his teasing. You just keep tugging him by his wrist through the empty school. He’s not even sure if you’re even breathing just now, or if you’re moving strictly on autopilot and rage.

You shove him into Mr. Kamisnky’s vacant classroom and lock the door behind you.

Eddie’s chest rises and falls with the heavy breath he exhales. “Well, shit, sweetheart... If I knew making you jealous was all I needed to do to get you alone, I would’ve done it a long time ago—”

“Say you didn’t mean it,” you interject, less than amused at his teasing.

“…What?”

“That you wanted to take Chrissy on a date,” you elaborate with arms crossed over your chest, protecting yourself, your heart. “Say you didn’t mean it.”

And Eddie laughs. He fucking laughs. Like everything’s a joke to him, like the mere thought of you being heartbroken over him liking Chrissy is funny to him.

It’s not. Well, at least not that bit. It’s laughable to him that you would even think he wanted anybody but you after he’s spent so many years fawning over you.

“Of course, I didn’t mean it,” Eddie scoffs. He tries to take a few steps closer to you, but you back away, not believing him. He softens. “I just wanted to make you jealous, sweetheart. I didn’t wanna… hurt your feelings.”

“Well, you did,” you monotone.

The boy’s brows furrow. “Hurt your feelings or make you jealous?”

“…Yes.”

A smile pulls slow at his lips. He tries to hide it but fails miserably. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I just wanted to see how you would react. And I am very pleased by this reaction… Even though my wrist feels like it’s broken.”

“Sorry,” you murmur to yourself, already embarrassed at how angry you’d gotten.

“Don’t be sorry,” Eddie declines with the shake of his head. This time when he walks toward you, you don’t back away from him. You even let him take your elbows in his hands and rub his thumbs over your warmed and jealousy-prickled skin.

“Actually, you know what, do be sorry,” he corrects playfully. “And make it up to me by taking me out. Somewhere fancy.”

You purse your lips to the side in attempts to hide your smile.

“Benny’s Burgers?” you offer after a moment.

“Ooh. Burgers, fries, a milkshake, and a hot date?" he lists with a nod of approval. "You really know how to get a guy to swoon, don't ya sweetheart?”

#published by bug #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie spaghetti drabble #st drabbles #bug's blurb sleepover

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billthedrake · 1 month

Text

WINGMAN

I generally had a clean lifestyle, at least lately, but it was Mike Gelson's bachelor party, and we five dudes were partying it up in Nashville. I may have been doing my goody two-shoes Brendan Peters thing and getting club soda every few rounds, but my tolerance was down and I was getting good and truly wasted.

My best buddy James Carducci noticed, too. Like me, he was a big guy, a former tight end who carried a lot of muscle on his 6'5" frame, but unlike me he could hold his liquor.

"You gonna get laid tonight, Peters?" he growled in my ear as we entered the room we were sharing. "It's fun to see you let your hair down."

I gave him a scowl but knew he was just ribbing me. It's what buddies did. "Why can't we have the bachelor party in New York or something?"

Carducci knew what I meant. He plopped on one of the beds, his big frame taking up most of the double bed mattress. "Bro, you could have all the gay dudes around you and you'd still be too fuckin' picky."

I lay down on the other bed, looking over at my best friend. We'd both moved to the same city after graduation. Coming out had been a big messy process for me, and James had been the most supportive of my college friends. He was enthusiastically bisexual - not advertising it or anything, but we quickly realized we could switch from teammate-buddies to guy talk and back.

Still, we were opposites in a lot of ways. "Dude... it's easy for you. You just want to get your dick wet."

We'd had versions of this conversation before. He grinned. "Bro, maybe you should get your dick wet for a change. It'd keep you from being a cranky bitch." Yeah, Carducci could get away saying stuff to me no one else could. Then turning his meaty body on his side, he looked right at me. "I get it, Peters. But maybe while you wait for Mr. Right, you can have some fun. I mean, Kevin Murphy's not gonna suck your cock."

"What the fuck?!" I played dumb. Kevin had been the kicker on our D1 team and was Mike Gelson's best man. He was my type to a T... shorter than me and leaner, boy-next-door cute, tight body and a bubble ass.

James lay back again and put his arms around his back, arms knotted and pumped. If I was into big dudes like myself, there might be sexual tension between us. "Bro, it's all over your face. Remember, I know your fuckin' type."

"C'mon, JC," I pleaded, using my nickname for him.

He grinned. "Don't worry, Peters, I'm not gonna say anything to anyone. You know that. Crush out on Murphy all you want. You're just barking up the wrong tree."

"Yeah," I sighed. "It's majorly against the bro code." I was starting to get resentful of how being a horny gay dude and an ex-jock living by the bro code were not exactly compatible.

That got a deep laugh from JC. "So's fucking your buddy's dad."

I sat up, the alcohol and quick movement making my head dizzy. "What?!?!" Normally I'd write off the comment as Carducci being a jokester but the way his words came out made them seem real.

He now sat up and reached down to paw at his crotch to rearrange his junk. "This stays between us," he warned.

"Scouts honor, man," I replied.

My friend got a wild look on his face and a leer as he said, "I banged Gelson's dad."

"Mike Gelson," I clarified. "The fucking groom."

He seemed annoyed. "What other Gelsons do you know, dumbass? Yeah, Mike Gelson's father. It was a couple of years ago, when Mike invited a couple of us to his family's lake house." James was closer to Gelson than I was, which only made what he was describing seme more transgressive.

"Dude, isn't Mr. Gelson like 45?" I'd briefly met the man once but he didn't make too much an impression on me, I guess.

Carducci leered. "He was 50 then, and it was fucking glorious. A whole week, both of us enjoying sneaking around." I knew JC had a bit of a kink for married men. We didn't overshare, but I'd very occasionally hear about a hookup or, more often, I'd unload about a date that didn't go like I wanted.

I had to rib him now. "What, you going for the daddies now, JC?"

Without missing a beat, he looked at me with his brown eyes. "Abso-fucking-lutely, Peters. Exclusively even. You should try an older dude for a change."

I didn't think I was easily shocked but the turn of the conversation had indeed rattled me. I went silent before I said quietly, "Man, I couldn't date a guy my dad's age. What the fuck?"

He laughed. "Dude, who's talking about dating? You're a hot fucking dude, you should be having sex nonstop... " He paused. "Can I be honest, bro?"

I nodded, bracing myself for the barrage of criticism. But this was Carducci, I knew he was looking after me.

"Well," James started. "You always go for the unavailable ones like Murphy, or for the stuck up ones who think they're the shit for having an Insta following." For all of our odd-couple conversations, Carducci had never spelled it out for me quite like this. But he was totally right. "I dunno, maybe you should go outside your type just to see. There are so many daddies out there who'd be so fucking appreciative to make it with a guy like you.... You could use the ego boost, bro."

I thought it over. "Is that what older guys are to you?" I asked. "An ego boost?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I have a pretty massive ego already, bro, I don't need help with that. I just love sex with an older guy." I watched as he pulled a spare pillow down to cover his crotch. I knew why: Carducci was boning up talking about sex, and while we shared a lot there still was the bro code between us. "Some of em have a wild side, like a drunk sorority chick."

I shook my head. "Jesus, JC."

I knew the alcohol was getting us both to open up to this conversation. "It's not like that, Peters. I mean, you know you're with a dude, a real masculine dude at that. But there's that wild, naughty streak beneath the surface. I fucking love it."

He reached over and picked up his phone.

"What? Are you gonna show me a picture of one of your conquests?" I asked.

He looked up and winked. "Perv. No, bro, I'm lining up a blowjob. There's gotta be a horny daddy staying in this hotel."

I blushed. "You serious?"

"Sure, I'm serious," he said, now not taking his eyes off the app as he scrolled through. "Jesus you can be such a fucking prude."

I lay back, feeling insulted but mostly angry that he was right. I'd set up a Grindr profile and used it some but then swore it off over the last year. "Well, you're not bringing him back here," I said.

JC now looked up. "Like I said. Cranky bitch." There was teasing sure, but I think I'd actually pissed off my buddy. I almost apologized but I was stubborn.

Anyway, he was now getting off the bed and putting his shoes back on.

"Already?" I asked with astonishment. JC hadn't been on that app much longer than five minutes.

He laughed. "What can I say, bro?" He smiled. "Daddy wants this..." he used his hand to gesture to his tall muscular body. "I'm in Nashville, I'm gonna have a little fucking fun." He had his phone and key card and seemed good to go. "You should too, Peters. For real."

I didn't say anything but I gave a look that was my attempt at an "I'll think about it."

And like that, I watched my best friend leave our room.

***

The lamplight was still on when I woke up. I'd conked out in my drunkenness. I was massively hungover but I always wake up pretty quickly. Light was coming in and the clock said a little after 8.

Carducci's bed was still made and still empty. The fucker.

I got up and pissed and popped a couple of aspirin, hoping they'd help. My head pounded. And we still had another night of this fucking bachelor party weekend. I wondered if these dudes would want to come to mine when the time came. Hell, I wondered if I'd have one.

I brushed my teeth to get the stale beer taste out of my mouth. My hair was mussed up and I did my best to comb it down.

Fifteen minutes later, after a trip to the lobby to get some coffee, I was feeling more alive. Hungover still, but better. I didn't feel like eating anything, but the aspirin was helping.

I picked up my phone. I'd uninstalled Grindr but it was easy enough to re-install it. It took me a second to remember my login, but I used one of my common passwords. One of these days, I'd need to choose something more secure for my shit.

There were some hot guys in Nashville, but I'd gotten spoiled by the city I lived in now. There was a certain type I was seeing here - either bigger, beefier guys, or else younger thinner twinks. My type was always in between that. I wanted more Dierks Bentley and was seeing a lot more Garth Brooks types, even among the 20-somethings.

I'd been replaying my conversation with JC in my head. He could bust my balls, and maybe in a way I didn't like. But I told myself, I'd give this a try. I changed my profile language to make it less picky and judgmental and adjusted my looking-for age range.

It was early and I didn't see any hits in this hotel, but there was a good looking older guy in the hotel on the next block. Kind of average looking, balding hair, 49yo, but his pics showed off a very fit body, lightly hairy, probably trimmed. Looking for now. If I had to make it with an older dude, this was probably as good a match as any. I'd focus on his body if need be.

"Hey," I typed in a chat. "You're up early."

"Hi man." Then. "This is early?"

"In Nashville it is," I replied back.

"True, ha."

I was never great with the quick hookup thing, but one thing I'd mastered was the art of messaging. Some guys were too direct, not flirty enough, but some guys were too passive and conversational. My style didn't work with everyone, but it was working now, I knew.

"What brings you here?" I asked.

"Business. I thought I'd tack on an extra day for fun. And you?"

"Bachelor party."

"Of course, ha." Then, he added. "You're quite the hunk."

"Thanks man," I typed. "You're hot, too." I wasn't sure how much I thought that. It's not that he wasn't hot, because he was in a way. But in my fucked up way, I knew he wasn't Brendan Peters-worthy hot. Not in my league. But I tried to embrace the Carducci way. "You say you bottom, right?" His profile had read vers-bottom.

"Yep. You wanting to fuck?"

After my conversation with JC, I'd initially been thinking of a blowjob. Baby steps. Something to take the edge off. But now I realized it had been WAY too long since I'd fucked a guy. "God yeah. You able to host?"

"If you can give me fifteen minutes."

I pawed my crotch now. I was getting boned good. "Make it twenty?" I wanted to shower up.

"Sounds good, man."

***

The profile had sold the guy short. He didn't look hotter than his pictures but as he ushered me in, he had a deep sexy voice. Almost gravely, with a New York accent. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and I could see how dense his muscle was on a frame that was about 6 inches shorter than mine.

"Looks like I hit the jackpot, huh?" he smiled. Then as his eyes swept up to my face, he added, "Don't worry, I'm not gonna gush. You know you're smoking hot."

OK, maybe JC was right, I could get used to the ego pump. With a grin I stepped up to the guy and wrapped my arms around his naked torso, drawing him in.

"I wasn't sure..." he started to say in his deep voice befor I cut him off with a kiss.

He was a good kisser. This was a hookup, just a hookup, and our making out wasn't romantic, but I really enjoyed this part of sex, and this man knew how to respond to my groove. His hands felt up my chest as he did his best to match my tongue work.

Maybe it had been so long since I'd had sex, but the feel of his bare skin and hard back muscle under my fingers had me rock hard. This guy wasn't my type, but he was masculine and real and he wanted me. I pulled off his towel and broke the kiss so I could reach down and paw at his thick ass. It wasn't a young bubble ass, it wasn't Kevin Murphy's kicker's ass, but this man went to the gym regularly and had for years.

"Yess.." he hissed.

I kneaded his ass for a minute longer then stepped back, in full ready to fuck mode. As I reached down and started undoing my shorts and kicking off my shoes, my trick looked at me with horny anticipation, his daddy dick hard and leaking, a solid six-incher that stood out from his trimmed but hairy crotch.

"I guess we didn't talk about specifics," he said, stepping back to the bed. "You a missionary or doggy position kind of guy?"

God, this was 180 degrees from my normal Grindr experience. I always met freaks who'd get real porny and weird, or I met guys who were bossy about their needs. This man had a fun laid-back vibe, even as we were getting to brass tacks.

Usually my answer would be missionary. "Doggy," I leered, letting my thick long cock fall out as I pushed my underwear down.

"Fuck," the daddy hissed. "You didn't exaggerate the measurements. Take it a little easy at first, then I'm good to go." I watched as he got onto the bed, on all fours. It was clearly the body of a man in his late 40s, but I was going to enjoy it all the same.

I got up on after him, letting the mattress sink with my weight. I'd hit almost 240 in college ball, and while I'd leaned down a little since then, I still was 230 pounds of tall muscle.

I remember one time I'd started eating out some model looking guy I'd hooked up with and he about freaked out, telling me he wasn't into getting rim. But as I kissed along this man's lightly furred ass cheeks, one side then the other, he spread his legs in an unmistakeable green light. I dove in and licked.

Fuck, this daddy loved it. I thought about what JC said. Masculine dudes with that drunk sorority chick worthy wild streak. He was some regular guy on business, and he was enjoying me eating him out and munching wildly at his clean pucker.

"Holy fuck, dude!" he growled, the deep voice making his words seem more sexual. "Eat my fucking hole."

I did. I wasn't even expecting an extended rim session for this. I almost thought it would be a pump and go, but I now rode the experience, gripping his cheeks, pulling them apart and tongue fucking this man who indeed was old enough to be my father.

I could have kept at it, too, but I needed to fuck. I leaned up, wiped off the spit from my chin and reached down to wet my cock.

"There's lube and condoms," he said, nodding to the night stand. "I'm on PREP so do what you want, man." Again, that deep voice had my balls twitching.

I slathered on some lube and lined up my bare prick. Daddy was gonna get raw dogged. I gave a two-mississippi pause then pushed to enter him.

There was some snugness at the ring but otherwise no real resistance. I popped in, making the man grunt a little, but he braced his upper body, took a deep breath, then nodded. I pushed my way all the way in, deep into his hot tightness. I forgot how amazing a good fuck felt. Bottoming out, I gripped his waist and began a slow pump.

"Jesus, you're a big boy," he grunted, excitement in his voice.

"6-four," I teased, now fucking him with firmer strokes.

"I meant your cock," the daddy said.

"I know," I hissed. "You're taking that big dick."

"Christ, man," he replied. "Fuck me! Fuck me big guy!"

I did. Getting more and more into it. I was enjoying this position of holding his waist and using that leverage to pull his leaner muscular build onto my hard pistoning cock as much as I was pushing into him. But as I got more excited and more into the mounting pleasure, I felt a need for something more animalistic. Leaning forward, I covered his back with my muscular chest and torso and just started hammering him with hard short strokes.

"Oh fuck oh fuck," he hissed. Loving it, but feeling the challenge of taking me that way, given my strength.

It wouldn't take long though. I now supported my weight with one arm while the other one wrapped around him, pulling his hard body next to mine for maximum contact and steady penetration.

He too was braced on one hand now while the jerked off to my inward strokes.

He came a second before me, but it was a photo finish. I let out a deep heavy growl and enjoyed the most amazing orgasm I'd had in a LONG time.

He finally withdrew his hand and let my weight push him down into a flat lying position.

"Am I too heavy?" I asked as I kissed his neck softly. I didn't want to pull out just yet, the aftershocks felt pretty amazing.

"I'm good," came that deep voice. "I like it, actually."

I kissed him more, along his neck. It's a weird thing of mine. Some guys lose interest after getting their nut, but I get in a real romantic headspace after cumming. It's freaked some men out.

Daddy picked up on it. "I thought you'd be a fuck and go kind of guy," he said with a soft laugh.

"Sorry," I said, pushing myself up off him some.

"Don't apologize, it's nice."

I ran my hand along the man's arm. Strong, not as big as mine, but there's something about an older man that meant more seasoned muscle. "I know this is just a hookup," I said. "I just like talking with a guy I have sex with. I'm weird, I guess."

He got quiet, but his reply felt calm and measured. "We can grab brunch if you like. I can learn more about the guy who just gave me the fuck of my life."

"Yeah," I said.

Now as we uncoupled and rinsed off in the bathroom before getting dressed again, I was having second doubts, and maybe I was leading him on too much. I absolutely didn't want anything serious with this guy. After today, I'd probably half forget him. This was just my hormones talking.

He seemed to read me. "You OK, man?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

He gave me an empathetic look. "Don't worry, I know I'm just a piece of tail to you. But I'm starving... why don't we get a bite and then you can get back to your bachelor party duties?"

I smiled. "Sounds good," I said. I stepped up and kissed him, softly. Wrapping my arms around his waist and enjoying the height difference.

"My name's Curt," he said.

"Brendan," I said.

#drakestories

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oceantornadoo · 12 days

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hii! can you do what it would be like asking price to put pads on the shopping list?? and then when price goes shopping he has to call you to ask for what size ?? 😭😭 btw i love love your work, hope u had a good day💞.

im pretty sure you're referring to this post but i decided to make this price x reader so :) enjoy!

bsf marriage pact!price x reader, he's slightly creepy but he's sweet (this is actually a bit dubcon but its in good spirit)

you had had a shit day. actually, make that a shit week. emotional the whole time, feeling lonely, depressed, and with the weirdest cravings. right when you were about to call your best friend and rant about how terrible you felt, you had went to the bathroom and- oh.

that explains a lot.

and now here you were, sitting on the toilet for the past ten minutes, contemplating. you were completely out of all period products and your flow was so heavy there was no way you were making it to the store free bleeding or with toilet paper as a makeshift pad. of course, that's when john decided to call you (let's be real, who doesn't take their phone to the bathroom. don't judge.)

"evenin', duckie."

"ugh john, i told you not to call me that. its so annoying."

john grunted a chuckle into the phone, swiping a hand over his beard. "you love it." silence. he could practically hear your eye roll. "dinner tonight?" he was pacing his apartment, uncharacteristic for a man like him. calm, cool, collected. never when it came to you.

"can't, sorry. maybe in a few days." he grunted. "could order a takeaway?" you sighed in his ear, the sound a melody he craved to hear over and over again. on lazy saturdays and in-between small fights over laundry. baby steps, though.

"its just not in the cards tonight, john, i'm sorry." you were never like this, withholding information. even when you cancelled on him, it was with a long-winded explanation with the names of about seven people he didn't know and plans you didn't want to go to. "'s wrong, duck? got a hot date or somethin'?" he mentally crossed his fingers, not allowing a physical expression. he wasn't that whipped. not yet.

"no, im just sick. and tired." his muscles relaxed. he started putting on his boots and grabbed a fleece, something gaz insisted was not too tryhard for someone like him. "i'll run to the store and grab ya medicine, hm? what'dya need?" you sighed again, rubbing your fingers to your forehead. he obviously was not giving this up and you did really need pads...

"ill text you a list when you get there. thanks john."

"anythin' for you, duckie."

list: pads, advil, that one chocolate candy you know i like, something for dinner

shit. price had been with a woman or two, but had never had to buy her pads. of course, he'd never let it get to that stage, not when he had you to take care of. but now here he was, staring at playtex and always and what the fuck was a diva cup? he'd better call you.

"all ok, john?"

"ya didn't give me a color on your pads, duck." you giggled. of course he paid attention to the green versus orange pads.

"its pretty heavy so some of the overnight and extra daytime ones would work." silence.

"...there's numbers." your cheeks warmed. you couldn't believe you were talking about this with john of all people.

"god, john. this feels so embarrassing. so weird to talk about with you."

"why? gotta know this for the rest of my life, duckie." shit. he was referring to that night a couple weeks ago, when you confessed to him you thought you'd never find love. when he said he'd marry you in a heartbeat, just say the word. when you compromised by telling him if you were still single in two years, you'd go to the courthouse then and there. when you didn't see him turn and write the date in phone, just as a reminder.

"5, john. there should be a moon symbol or something. and then 3. should be green, i think?" he grunted an affirmation, putting the respective pads in his cart. he turned around, having said goodbye and ended the call, and was subsequently greeted by three women, staring. paused in their product selection, staring openmouthed at how nonchalant he was about buying pads.

30 minutes later he was at your place, groceries and takeaway in hand as he used his spare key to let himself in. "duck?" all quiet. he stalked through your place and noticed the light on in the bathroom. one, two, three quick knocks. "john?" "'s me. can i come in?" "no i- need you to get me something." he waited patiently. "can you go to my dresser and grab a pair of underwear. something ugly, lots of coverage." who was he to say no to a free invite to your underwear drawer?

john dropped the pads outside your bathroom door and headed to your bedroom. finding your dresser, he had to give himself a second. calm down, old man. they're all clean.

that didn't stop him from sniffing a few, reveling at the scent of your laundry detergent. he almost groaned at the scent, imagining you in them. even in the "unsexy" pairs, your curves clothed in cotton and elastic, wrapped up in a lovely package. all his.

john selected a pair with "lots of coverage", whatever that meant, and headed to your bathroom. he opened the door with ease, setting your pads down on the counter. you shrieked.

"john! im half naked, you need to knock." obviously, the sight of your bare thighs and the top of your mound peaking out was most welcome, but he was more concerned about getting you off the toilet and putting food in your belly. "jus' me, duckie. come on, show me how to do it." he gestured at the pads. he couldn't be serious.

you slowly unboxed them, taking care to cover your naked body as much as possible. even while moving slowly, your shirt still shifted and he caught glimpses of your pretty pussy. an image for another day, when you weren't in pain. he focused on your fingers, deftly putting the pad on your underwear with years of practice. he memorized how you placed the pad, ensuring it stuck to your underwear before tearing the paper off the wings and tucking them on the other side. you looked up at him and he nodded, mission complete. "thank you, by the way." he kissed your forehead, so quick you could have missed it in a blink.

"turn around, i have to put it on." he sat back on his haunches, staring. "go'on. 've gotta learn somehow." you were too tired to care, ready to devour your dinner. you missed his hungry gaze as you revealed your cunt to him, wanting even though it was covered in blood. you missed his fingers twitching as you slowly pulled on your underwear, fabric caressing your skin like he yearned to. you got up, flushed, and washed your hands, missing how he tucked his fingers in belt loops and leaned back into the wall, a move he'd done many times in his tac vest.

"thank you, john. truly." he gave you a grin under the muttonchops, all satisfied. task finished, mission accomplished. you had asked him to do this, a husbandly duty. after you dried your hands, you made a move for the door, but he stopped you with a hand to the jaw. he brushed his beard against you, feeling the shiver in your bones. his mouth hovered near your ear, accent coming out low and sultry. "anythin' for my future wife, duckie."

ngl this got a bit weird but i like it??? had to struggle to not lean into my simon riley weirdness tendencies as im still learning john as a character.

#john price #price #cod price #captain john price #captain price x reader #price x reader #john price x reader #captain price #price imagine #price headcanons #price one shot #john price x you #captain johnathan price #john price x y/n #tornadothoughts

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ih34rt-alphatxuri · 3 months

Text

Read Your Diary

table of contents/pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: he needed to find a way to get inside of her, for ever and ever and ever.

warnings: obsessive behaviour, emotional manipulation, borderline stalking and an overall toxic dynamic with an oblivious Y/N, use of explicit language, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids), p in v, breeding kink if you squint. I absolutely do not condone any form of emotional manipulation or toxic relationships. This is a work of fiction and most definitely not a reflection of this person's real actions or personality.

message from A☆: Hey !! So recently I've been reading a lot of dark fics so I wanted to try and write one of my own. This fic has the same structure as Chewing Cotton Wool, and this (Read Your Diary) is one of my fav Måneskin songs, and I put A LOT of effort into it. Btw, I didn't use the whole song ! I only used the lyrics that I felt resonated with the storyline I wanted. (I fully went in and edited the smut part I AM SORRYYY) I hope you enjoy...

P.S, try and spot the song references throughout the fic !!

Brought you some roses, you didn't take them So I shed a tear

He was just trying to be nice. That's what Y/N thought. She'd been working as Christian Horner's secretary for only a couple months now, and his star driver had quickly taken a liking to her. But who could blame him? She was young, a few years younger than him, and absolutely gorgeous. Max would send her a bouquet if her favorite flowers every single race weekend, and in the beginning she'd never take them. How did he know what her favorite flowers were? He had his ways...but she always refused them. Little did she know, Max was watching from down the hall, sometimes he'd shed a few tears over it. After what was probably the millionth time he'd left her flowers, she finally took them. She figured he was just trying to be nice, make her feel welcomed, that's what she kept telling herself. And in that moment it was like something snapped in Max's head: he had to have Y/N, and when he did he'd keep her forever and ever and ever.

Pouring some champagne over your panties So that we can cheers

They were at a party after the race, she was getting absolutely shit-faced drunk. Y/N was wearing a short, sparkly party dress, the light catching every fleck of glitter as she moved. She danced the night away, downing drink after drink. That's when she bumped into Max, his glass of champagne pouring all over the front of her dress.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry schatje (little treasure)...let me help you." Max grabbed a napkin, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her in closer to wipe her off. He knew this was a bit risky, but Y/N wasn't refusing his touch.

"Maxie...hi!" She giggled drunkenly leaning into his touch. This was perfect. Max tried his best to wipe her off, but her dress was still sticky with the fizzy fluid.

"Y/N, darling, you should get changed...your dress is in no condition to stay on your body." He smoothed her hair over with one hand, looking into her eyes as she spoke.

"No, im fine Maxie!" She whined. She clearly wasn't, and Max wasn't going to skip out on the chance to be her knight in shining armour; even if in reality he was a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Counting the hours, counting the seconds 'Till I can feel your bones

"Oh, but Y/N, liefje (darling), you're too drunk to think straight." His tone had the slightest hint of mockery, but she was too drunk to tell.

"No, Max...I'm perfectly fine to be alone.'' She spoke between hiccups, trying not to stumble over herself as Max led her back to her room.

"No you're not, come on...let me take care of you." There was a certain darkness in his eyes as he spoke. As he led her into her hotel room he had an almost malicious smirk on his face. He didn't want to take advantage of her though, even if he was counting the hours until he could feel her bones beside him. All he wanted was a chance to get closer to her, to get inside her head.

Dance in your shoes, read your diary to Get inside of you, you, you

This was Max's chance. As she peacefully slept he got up and began to go through her things. Her suitcase, her clothes, her purse, everything he could find. That's when he found it: Y/N's diary. He flipped through the pages, taking photos, drowning himself in her words. He knew it was wrong to read her diary, but this was perfect. It was all her emotions, written out in front of him. This was the way, he thought, the way to get to her. Infect her with his love, rot her mind with his sugary sweet lies. He needed her in the palm of his hand.

Forever and ever and ever.

I'm not a coward, I'm not a hero But I can be your toy I'll be the pill that you wanna swallow When you're looking for the joy

Reading her diary had been like dissecting her brain, he learned everything about her. What she liked, what he hated, the things that made her weak in the knees and swoon, and the things that turned her off. He knew just the way to have her at his will, have her wrapped around his finger. And that's exactly what was happening. After weeks of tedious yet discreet manipulation, he almost had her. Max was the one Y/N would go to first when she felt down, when she needed to get something off her chest, when she was excited about something. It was almost like he was her drug, little did she know it was all his fault. But she was too oblivious to realize it. Her friends tried to warn her, but it was no use. He was already getting to her, he'd already turned into her joy-pill.

Cried on your nudes, wearing your perfume Now I taste like you, you, you

This was wrong, so wrong. He knew it. But Max would go to the ends of the earth to even have a small taste of her. He sat quietly outside her apartment building, phone in hand. What a stupid, oblivious girl. She'd left the window wide open as she got changed, Max snapping pictures of her naked body without her knowledge. Once back in his own home, he pulled out his phone to flip through the pictures. Such a pretty, ignorant girl. He felt himself getting harder and harder as he looked at her body in each picture. Max could cry over her nudes, he needed her so badly. He grabbed a small bottle from him bedside drawer: a small travel-spray of Y/N's perfume. Max sprayed his pillow with it every night, craving her scent and body beside him. He decided to take a shower to get his mind off things, but now he practically tasted like her. There was no taking his mind off her now.

Forever and ever and ever

Oh, why don't you give a little love now, baby?

Alone, in the shower Using my left hand so it feels like you

Max had been alone in the shower for about an hour now, jerking his cock to the thought of her. The smell of her perfume still lingered, the mental image of her naked body driving him insane. He needed to have her, he couldn't wait much longer. But he almost had her, she was just within reach. He came with a loud groan, his release coating his own hand. He could only imagine how much better his cock would feel elsewhere; in her hand, her mouth, her pussy...but he had to wait just a little longer.

So please, I'm begging To feel something new

It had been like a predator circling its oblivious prey; she had no clue he already had her in the palm of his hand. She was under the impression that this was what she wanted, this was all out of her own volition. But that was far from the truth. Max was behind it all, meticulously puppeteering her feelings. But she'd never know, he'd make sure of it. As she entered his apartment, the feeling of his hand on her lower back was sending chills through her body, Max smilled maliciously to himself. But he had to make her think she was the one in control, that this was her choice. They walked to his couch and both sat down, their bodies mere millimeters away from each other. He had already brought out a bottle of wine and two glasses for them. They sipped on their drinks and just talked, but behind his blue eyes he was waiting for the perfect window to strike. About 4 and a half glasses in, she'd scooted closer to him, leaning her head on his shoulder subconsciously. Now was the moment, thought Max. His hand slipped away to her thigh, slowly rubbing up and down and driving Y/N mad.

"Max..." she whined his name, it was like music to his ears.

"What, liefje (darling), what's wrong?" He had to hide his smirk, the slightest hint of mockery and possibly pity in his tone.

"Fuck...I think I need you..." She was too drunk to think before she spoke, her thighs rubbing together slightly as she yearned for some sort of friction.

"Aww...you need help darling?" He lifted her chin, pulling her in closer. All she could do was nod, letting him pull her in for a kiss.

One thing led to another, and they ended up in Max's bed. She'd practically been begging him to feel something new the whole way there, it's ironic how she thought she was the one in control. Max put her down onto the bed and reached under her skirt to remove her panties. He ran a finger through her folds, collecting her wetness.

"You're desperate me, huh schatje (little treasure)?" He brings his fingers up his mouth, licking them clean. All she could do was whine out a reply, she was desperate. With than Max knelt before her, leaving a trail of kisses up her thighs as Y/N squirmed with anticipation. The feeling of his tongue over her pussy, he ate her out like a man starved. Every moan that rolled off her tongue only riled him up more, he licked every inch of her center and sucked her clit like it was his last meal. As she begged him to let her come, her words caught in her throat with a squeal as he plunged two fingers into her entrance. She wanted to cry, it was all too much. "Aww, you wanna come liefje (darling)?" He smiled up at her and spoke in an almost mocking tone as he worked his fingers in and out of her and rubbed greedy circles on her puffy, overstimulated clit.

"Please, Maxie, please, please let me come...fuck!" She gasped out, her hands tangled in his hair.

"Since you asked so nicely, darling, I'll let you...come all over my fingers..." He sucked her clit and pumped his fingers even faster, pushing her over the edge. He came with a loud, straggled moan, her slick leaking out over Max's fingers and palm. He licked his fingers clean once again, then pulling himself back on top of her.

"You wanna taste yourself schatje (little treasure)? Hm?" He grabbed by the neck, with a rough gentleness, while taunting her with his patronizing tone. He kissed her roughly, Y/N whined at the taste of herself on his tongue and his hand gripping her neck, she needed more. Max was her drug, and she was too far into her addiction.

"Max I fucking need you...please." She reached up and pulled his face back down for another heated hiss.

"Anything for you, liefje (darling)." He smiled down at her, their foreheads touching. This was the moment Max had been waiting for for months, dreaming, fantasizing. He wouldn't wait another minute to make her his. So, he stripped himself of his clothing and Y/N removed whatever was left of hers. He cautiously got on top of her, like she was the most delicate creature on the planet, and aligned the hit tip with her hole. But he wanted to draw this out, so he slowly dragged the tip of his dick along her slit, rubbing it on her clit and then back down. Max could've died a happy man right there, his body hovering over hers as she begged for his cock and trembled.

"Please Max, stop teasing, I need it so fucking badly..." She said in a whiny, needy tone. Seconds later Max was pushing his cock into her, stretching her out as she moaned. He didn't waste a minute, not even allowing her to adjust. It's like a switch kicked off in him, he was feral. He thrust in and out of her at a fast, rough, yet delicious speed. Within minutes of him fucking her she was already a babbling mess.

"Aww, Y/N darling, already too fucked out to speak?" He mocked, deriving a little too much joy from seeing her at his will.

"Maxieee- fuck- 's too good...fucking fuck!" She moaned out, but Max was far from done yet. She felt her walls fluttering around him as his dick twitched, a tell-tale sign they were both gonna come.

"Need to come, liefje? Aww, I'm gonna fill you up so fuck- fucking good. Gonna claim this fucking pussy..." He groaned, feeling his climax reaching.

"Please, Maxie- fuck- need to come so bad, 's too much, fuck- please" She moaned out breathlessly, but she was already gone. The knot in her stomach had already snapped, spilling her slick all over Max's cock. He soon followed suit, his dick twitching inside her and the painting her walls with his come. He took a look down at where their bodies met, smiling maliciously down at the sight of the mix of his and her release leaking out on his cock. He then collapsed on to her with a loud groan, propping himself up on his elbows to look at her face.

"You're mine now...you get that? Or are you still too cockdrunk to understand me?" He spoke in an almost patronizing tone, running a had over her hair; all she could do was nod in her fucked out state. After catching his breath, Max got up and ran over to the bathroom. He came back minutes later, picking Y/N up from the bed. She whined into his neck.

"Come on, darling...gotta get you cleaned up..." With that, he dropped her down into the tub, and he practically worshiped her body. He ran his soapy hands over her whole body, washing off the sweat with the utmost caution. He used a washcloth to wipe the come off her sensitive center, she whined softly at times. But Max was extremely gentle, and when he got her out of the bath and sat her on the counter wrapped in a towel, he took a quick rinse. He then took them both back to the bed, giving her one of his t-shirts to sleep in. She drifted off peacefully in his arms, not knowing what she'd gotten herself into. Now Max had her, he was inside her head. He was going to keep it that way, forever and ever and ever.

#f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #dark max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut

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modernimpressionism · 1 month

Text

a higher power compelled me to write this

Swann Arlaud x Reader Fluff

(First meetings, art museums, slight awkwardness)

1285 Words

• ───── ୨୧ ───── •

Like the work of art she was, he first saw her at a museum.

More specifically, at the Musée d'Orsay. Standing in front of Olympia. He had wandered in on a walk home from a meeting with his manager, feeling a little stressed and pretty annoyed. He assumed a walk around an air-conditioned maze would calm his mind a bit, and this one was just the closest when he googled 'museum'. He recalls visiting it as a boy because being a child in Paris meant field trips to insane historical monuments and world-famous museums.

She stared at the painting as if trying to memorize every brush stroke, occasionally adjusting the tote bag on her shoulder or tucking her hair behind her ear, but not moving onto another piece. The relaxed nude figure seemed to entrance her like the woman was communicating something secret and sensual and womanly through 150 years of dried pigment.

This gave him plenty of time to memorize her as well, to notice the hair falling gently on her back. Her fingers, the nails neatly painted but the skin around them picked and chewed to bits. She wore a watch on her left wrist, a real watch that ticked silently with the seconds, he thought higher of her because of this but couldn't place why. Her clothes looked nice, but not excessive. He imagined her being picky with what she wore, and not caring about brands or fashion houses, which felt rare in Paris. The tote bag on her shoulder was obviously full, and he yearned to hold it for her, to take the weight off if only for a moment. She obviously carried it every day and thought little of the weight anymore, but he was willing to take it.

He paused his study for a moment to look around the gallery. He noticed the similarity between all of the paintings, and with how long she was staring at the one, he assumed she must be a fan.

Shit

He leaned over to check the name of the artist on a few of the paintings, Manet, Manet, Manet, ok. He pulls his phone out and quickly searches for him. If he's going to talk to this woman, he should at least pretend to have a reason to.

He was starting to regret not paying attention during those field trips.

He slipped his phone back into his back pocket and ran his fingers through his hair. It seemed like he was eternally trying to fix it, and if there was ever a time for it to behave, it was right now.

He took one confident step before she started moving and he lost all of his nerve. He snapped his head around before finding a random painting to pretend to stare at, hoping she didn't notice his extended and possibly creepy staring. He shoved his hands in his front pockets to try to look calmer than he was.

He heard the slight tap of her shoes against the stone floor but didn't dare to look where she was going. This is disastrous, he thought, deciding to leave as soon as she stopped moving. He was counting down the seconds when he felt a slight shade move on his left side and heard her movements more closely.

She stood right next to them, looking at the same painting.

His plan to abandon ship quickly dissipated, knowing this was the only opportunity he had to talk to her. If he ignored her now and followed her around the museum to talk to her later, he would look mental.

He scanned the painting in a panic, trying to understand 150 years of art history before opening his mouth. To him, it just looked like a couple of people standing on a balcony but he felt like it meant much more to her. He thought that if he waited any more, he would lose his nerve, so he opened his mouth and...

"J'aime le chien"

"Oh, I. I'm sorry but I'm still learning French, I'm not sure-"

"You're American!"

Shit!

In his anxiety-ridden brain, he forgot to shut his mouth and his words bypassed any filter he possessed. It's over, this was a total failure, he thought as he felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

But instead he heard her giggle gently, before responding,

"I am! All of my life actually"

Oh god, and she's funny...

He smiled back at her with his signature goofy lopsided smile, too engrossed by her face, her mouth, her eyes to actually respond to anything.

"I like the dog too", she replies after a few silent seconds.

They both stared at the small animal painted in the bottom left corner, tucked into the petticoat of a figure. His eyes weren't visible beneath his fur, permanently hidden from the world. Looking at the animal and hearing her approval gave him the confidence to keep their conversation going a bit longer.

"So is he your favorite?"

"He's one of my favorites, i just love the choice of subjects, how average they were."

He's entranced by her voice. By the way her lips move to make the words, by the way her eyes light up as she speaks about art. He realizes that he must look silly, staring at her speak with a dumb smile, but he can't bring himself to care.

"Have you ever seen where he painted? In Giverny?"

She tilts her head slightly at that question, slightly confused.

Shit.

"Do you mean Monet? With the lilies? He painted in Giverny. This is Manet."

SHIT!

His mouth opens and closes like a fish, feeling like a deer in headlights, he can't possibly save this now.

So he just starts laughing. A genuine belly laugh, full of joy at his own stupidity. And then she starts laughing just as hard.

"Did you just google him a minute ago?", she asks, in between giggles.

"I did, it must have been uh... vérification orthographique.. spellcheck"

They look at each other earnestly, both admiring the other.

"I'm Y/N", she says, reaching out her hand.

He grabs it and is astounded by how comfortable he feels in hers

"Swann"

*One Year Later*

"Love I told you, I didn't want anything for our anniversary, just to do things together"

"Well this is a together present, sort of, it's for uh.. l'appartement"

He pulls a large, flat, wrapped present from the back of his closet, lifting it and placing it in front of Y/N, who's sat on their bed. He sits down next to her, leaning one hand on the bed behind her, subconsciously wanting to be close to her.

Her hands reach for the paper and start tearing, she makes a mental note of his gift-wrapping skills, assigning him that job in the future. Her were always horribly crumpled, but he was neat and untarnished, and she almost felt bad destroying it.

She quickly uncovered a gold frame with a glass pane, something familiar peeking out from inside.

"It's the Manet painting, The Balcony. A print of it, I mean. I thought it would be nice to hang out here since it's ours." he says, almost shyly... No matter how confident he was, he always felt the risk of gift-giving.

"Swann, I love it, It's perfect"

She places the framed print on the bed behind her, safely, before throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him with as much love as she could muster. It was such a quick transition that he was almost surprised, but he soon caught up and reached his arm around her and grabbed her waist, pulling her tighter. After a while, he placed a hand on her cheek to pull her away and leaned in to kiss her lips gently and with love.

"Joyeux anniversaire chérie, I would get you the real painting if I could.

#swann arlaud #swann arlaud x reader #fluff

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pablitogavii · 9 months

Text

Happy Family Pt. 1

Summary: You're an exchange student who came to live with the Gavira family for a year all the way from America. Let's just say things don't go as planned between you and your fake 'brother'.

This is going to be a series so be patient with me guys :)

Warnings: all of it hehe SMUT/ANGST/FLUFF

Pablo and You were both traveling from US to Spain at the same time- him with his teammates returning from the summer tour and you for your exchange program.

When you heard that the infamous Gavira family agreed to take in the student, you were pretty shocked but also kinda excited. This is going to be your year, you could just feel it!

When you arrived to the airport, you looked through the crowd finally seeing charming looking brunette girl carrying a piece of paper where it was written GAVIRA.

"Um..hola..I'm Y/n" you say and the girl smiled brightly already pulling you into a hug like you were her real sisters. She was very beautiful and you quickly started to like her company.

"Welcome querida. I am Belen and this is my husband Pablo and she is your sister Aurora" older woman introduced everyone and you smiled thinking that they were truly such a sweet family. Speaking of family, someone was missing..the infamous Barça Golden Boy.

"Pablo is a cabrón whose flight got delayed last minute so he couldn't wait for you.." Aurora said and you chuckled at how easily she was insulting ehr younger brother.

"Aurora, cuida tu lenguaje! Pablo will be here for dinner so you can meet him. Let's get home now.." Sr. Gavira said taking your suitcase like a true gentleman as you walked with Aurora towards the car.

"You gotta meet my boyfriend Javi tomorrow! He's just the cutest!" Aurora was showing you all their pictures while you were sitting on the back of their expensive car driving towards an even more expensive house.

"You guys are a cute couple!" you say and she smiled with blushing cheeks nodding her head starting to ask me questions about my life until we finally arrived.

"That's so cool! Have you heard mamá!? She wants to be a doctora! Isn't that amazing!?" Aurora said and Belen smiled nodding her head while showing me inside.

"And this is a kitchen. Please feel free to help yourself whenever you want something, querida. This is your house now as well" woman said kindly and you smiled looking around the giant rooms that were defiantly having you in awe.

"You have a beautiful home Mrs. Gavira.." you say while walking towards the staircase where the bedrooms were on the second floor.

"Please call me Belen, querida..I really hope you feel comfortable with us for a year" she said before Aurora volunteered to show me the upper floor until we finally ended up in the room they gave me.

"You should shower and get comfortable before dinner hermanita. My room is right down the hall, don't forget" she said leaving you on your own and you sat on the comfortable bed looking around. This was your new home for a year.

When you got cleaned up, you decided to call your parents and let them know everything was better than alright. You really clicked with the Gaviras and thought this was going to be an amazing experience.

"They are all very kind mom, don't worry. I will make sure to call every night..I gotta go now. It's dinner time" you said when Aurora peeked through your door to call your downstairs.

"Um..your brother's not home yet?" you asked truthfully a little nervous to meet him. She just rolled her eyes saying he probably forgot and went out with his friends instead.

"Ah, esta vez me escuchará?! ¡Le contamos esto hace una semana! ¿¡Donde está ese niño!?" [Ah this time he will hear me!? We told him about this a week ago! Where is that boy!?] Belen was trying to call him but there was no answer.

"Está trabajando duro Belén. Deja que el chico disfrute de su tiempo libre cuando lo tenga.." [He's working hard Belen. Let the chico enjoy his down time when he has it..] Pablo Sr. defended his son and when the two of you joined they changed the subject.

"The dinner was very delicious. Thank you Mrs.." you said but before finishing that sentence you caught yourself "Belen." and the woman smiled nodding her head.

"You should go get some rest, and get ready for the school orientation tomorrow morning querida.." she said and you nodded getting up and excusing yourself to your room.

Part of you was kind of disappointed that you haven't met Pablo today but you knew that will happen sooner or alter. Little did you know, it would be the most awkward meeting in your life history.

When Pablo arrived home, it was late and he avoided the kitchen trying to sneak straight into his room to get some sleep. He knew he didn't show up for dinner like he promised but he didn't feel like hearing about it right now. He was so exhausted, he just wanted to lay down and sleep.

He walked into his room surprised with the sudden flowery scent but deciding to ignore it taking off his shirt and trying to removed the cover only to see you curled up underneath. Why were you in his bed..and in those panties??

"Joder!" he said rather loudly that you woke up jumping and sitting up. You completely forgot you were barely wearing any clothes trying to figure out who the hell woke you up in the middle of the freaking night!?

"Ai! Qué mierda estás haciendo aquí!?" [Hey! What the fuck are you doing here!?] you said angrily really needing your sleep that he so rudely interrupted. You could be quite mean when you're tired like this and Pablo was no different.

"No sabía que hablabas español?" [ I didn't know that you speak Spanish??] Pablo said a little shocked with this whole situation but that didn't stop him from looking your from head to toe especially interested in the little red panties you were wearing. He felt his shorts tighten but he knew that he had to keep calm!

"Y no sabía que no sabías tocar! Capullo!" [And I didn't know you don't know how to knock! Asshole!] you spat and now Pablo was getting more frustrated.

"And why the fuck would I knock to get into my own room huh!?" he said and now you were the one who was confused what he was talking about. Was this his room really? So you were sleeping in his bed then..shit! It really smelled masculine first time you laid down.

"Wait..what? They said this is my room now.."you say and Pablo's jaw clenched at that new information he never got until now.

"Of course they gave you my fucking room just to annoy me more!? Joder!" Pablo said and you rolled your eyes at his cocky attitude. Did he really think the whole world revolved around his big head!?

"Fine then I'll leave! Whatever!" you said about to stand up but he stopped you smirking and getting even closer to the bed so that you had to look up into his dark eyes.

"Not in those red panties you won't...hermanita" he whispered the last part like a sin and you looked down finally realizing what you were freely wearing covering yourself and feeling your face heat up. Fuck! First night and your 'brother' already saw you in your underwear!

"Give me my shorts cabrón!" you say angrily showing him the small pajama shorts on the sofa and he took it dangling it in front of you but not letting you grab it just yet.

"Mmm..you know hermanita..red is my favorite color..so I might want to see you in it again..how about you stand up and grab it yourself huh??" he was cockily teasing you and you hated it although your body was telling different story.

"Pablo? What are you doing here?" Belen walked in and her son completely shirtless quickly hiding your shorts behind his back definitely in a very uncomfortable situation.

"Le diste mi habitación!?" [You gave her my room!?] he said dropping the shorts and you grabbed it putting it on quickly while Belen nodded her head walking inside trying to reason with him.

"Tiene un escritorio que necesita para la escuela hijo.." [It has a desk she needs for school son..] she said and Pablo rolled his eyes of course in a way she doesn't see it. But you definitely did.

"Esta bien, lo que sea! Cogeré mi ropa." [It's fine, whatever! I'll grab my clothes] he said and she smiled petting his back and wishing you a goodnight before leaving.

"Hey..um..I'm sorry for taking your room..is there something I can do to make up for it?" you said trying to make peace with your 'brother' because you did have to live under the same roof for a whole year.

"Hm..well you could do something" he said after grabbing his clothes and walking close to you. He was still shirtless and the heat was radiating off his fit body. You used all your strength not to look at his abs.

"You could tell me if you're wearing a matching red bra.." he smirked and you slapped his shoulder angrily walking back to bed. He was defiantly asking for war!

"Fuck you capullo!" you say getting underneath the covers and he chuckled while walking towards the door.

"Mm I'll be seeing your around..hermanita" he winked his voice sending shivers down your spine as your legs closed on instinct. You hated that he had such a profound impact on you..something you couldn't control.

For the rest of the night you couldn't sleep..all you thought about was his voice..the way his sharp jawline clenched when he was angry..how all his muscles contracted...that wink he gave you before leaving especially using that sinful word 'hermanita' ;))

Suddenly Pablo Gavi was all around you and you felt breathless..<3

I hope you like the first part of this story. Let me know in the comments in you're hungry for more ;))

#pablo gavi #fc barca #pablo gavi icons #fc barça #pablo gavi x reader #gavigif #pablo gavi x y/n #gavi #pablo gavi x you #fc barcelona #gavi x vini #gavi x yn #gavi x you #gavi x reader #pablogavixreaderfluff #pablogavixreadersmut #pablo martín páez gavira #pablo gavira #gavira

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jayke0 · 6 months

Text

Bite Me

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem reader

Summary: You and Steven wanted to go to a Halloween party, but your costume makes you both a little distracted.

Rating: 18+, smut

Warnings/Content: reader talks about sucking his blood in a kinky vampire way but idk the name of it, mommy kink, odaxelagnia, chubby reader, jealous and desperate Steven, nipple play, boobjob, fingering, drunkenness (just some word slurring), p in v, unmentioned protected sex, small bit of fluff, creampie, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).

Word count: 2,771

Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.

…………………………………………….......................

"Wow, you look amazing!"

Steven stares at you with wide eyes, a big smile spread across his face and making his eyes crinkle at the corners in that adorably charming way.

You'd both agreed to dress up as a vampire couple for Steven's Halloween party at work, and you'd picked a particularly beautiful dress that admittedly shows off your best assets… maybe more than you'd expected.

"Yeah? I was a little worried about this area–" you gesture towards your tummy. "–but as long as you think I look ok, then I'm happy." The wrinkles in your dress spread out as you run your hands over your stomach.

"No no, you look beautiful, love!" He stands and walks towards your position in the doorway, running his hands over your arms with his soft fingertips while the smile stays plastered on his face. "Quite frankly, I feel like I'm a bit underdressed now." His giggle makes you smile, and you bring your hands up to his cheeks. "You still look handsome, baby, my handsome vampire husband."

Your nose bumps his as you lean forward, brushing your lips just barely over his. The fake fangs make cute little bumps under his top lip, giving him a cat-like look, not to mention a bit of a lisp.

"Are you… uhm… Are you gonna bring a coat, though?"

As you pull away, you notice your boyfriend's eyes have moved from being in awe of your make-up, down to the exposed part of your chest. The dress is a little tighter than you'd seen online, so your boobs are spilling out, making it easy for a "happy accident" to happen.

A chuckle leaves your lips and you snake your arms around Steven's neck.

"Why? Are you getting jealous?" There's a flirtatious tone in your voice.

"No, of course not. I just don't want you getting cold!"

"Bullshit." You giggle and pat his chest, leaning towards his lips again enough to feel his breath hitch.

"Aaaalright. Yes, I'm jealous." He huffs and leans forward to close the gap between your lips for a brief moment. "Can you blame me? You're all on show and you look bloody amazing…" You feel him press against you a little, and notice the bulge growing in his pants against your thigh as he noses your neck and the plastic fangs tickle your skin.

"Well... we have a little time before the party, right?" You trail your hand up and down his back to feel the muscles tense under the thin fabric of his cheap halloween costume, his curls bouncing against your skin with a nod.

"We can do a little roleplay, would you like that, sweetheart?"

A whimper from Steven raises goosebumps on the back of your neck. Your hand travels up to the back of his head to grab a fistful of brown locks, making the man tilt his head back with a wail.

"My poor helpless victim…" You purr, part of your tone being sarcastic incase he doesn't like it, but the soft whimper that sneaks past his lips has you regain your confidence and butterflies flutter in your groin. "I won't drain you just yet, just gonna have a taste," you kiss his neck affectionately. "Then I can have some fun."

The years of watching vampire films is seemingly paying off as you feel your boyfriend turn to jelly in your hands, giving in easier than you'd ever expect; maybe this was the real reason he'd suggested it, because ever since he'd seen Elvira on the TV, he'd wanted a 'vampire mommy' of his own.

Slowly, you lean closer to his neck, taking in the soft and sweet smell of his cologne as if you're really taking a whiff of your favourite meal. He seems to be shrinking smaller and smaller in your grasp as you graze the teeth over his neck to dance along the nerves there, before you poke your tongue out and lick a long strip up from the beating pulse on his neck to his ear.

Steven stumbles forward and puts his hands out to balance himself on the wall, leaning over you. With his (or more so Marc's) height and build, he could easily overpower you and throw you on the bed to fuck you into oblivion, but instead he has to use the wall to steady himself as you slowly tease his silly little vampire fetish, pulling it inch by inch out of him till he's panting softly and his legs are squeezed together.

"God, this is embarrassing, can't believe I'm getting so worked up over noTHING–"

You stop his complaining by finally pressing your mouth against his pulse and digging the fangs in as far as possible. Of course, they're simply blunt plastic and barely graze the surface, but the noises that Steven lets out would make you think you'd squeezed the tip of his cock unbearably good.

"Please… please please, mommy." He moans out, rolling his hips desperately against your thigh as he struggles to keep himself stood up.

"Go sit on the edge of the bed baby, I know something you'll enjoy."

You'd think the man is an adult virgin with the way he scrambles towards the bed and sits on the edge eagerly, undoing the top two buttons of his costume to let his flushed cheeks and skin cool down.

Swaying your hips a little,you saunter towards your boyfriend and hover over him just to see those pretty puppy dog eyes. "Good boy, what a precious little look you've got. A perfect piece of meat for me."

Honestly, you're not even sure where this is coming from at this point, maybe Steven's tapped into some morbid kink that you had locked away deep down in the pits of your belly; either way, you're both enjoying it.

"For you, mommy."

You pat his cheek, if a little condescendingly, before sinking down onto your knees and parting the man's legs, his thick thighs bulging through the thin fabric and making your mouth water a little as if you're really going to take a chunk out of his flesh.

Instead, you work his trousers open to pull his poor neglected cock out, teasing the tip in a way that has Steven squirming and his brows raising pathetically. "God..." he murmurs desperately.

You leave his cock for a minute as you pull down the front of your dress, your tits spilling out at the freedom from the constraints as your nipples harden with the cold air suddenly hitting them.

"Oh please, let me suck them." Steven's bottom lip sticks out pathetically, dents being formed in the pink flesh as the fangs dig into it.

"No, sweet thing, I've got something better for you." You gaze up at him and spit down your cleavage, rubbing the soft skin together before you lean towards him and engulf his length between your boobs. The action has him squirming and whining softly, already bucking his hips against you as he tries to fuck his arguably favourite feature of yours.

"Hey!"

His eyes shoot down to yours as his hips immediately stop. "Oh f–fuck I'm sorry, mommy, I'm sorry, I'm sorry–" He rambles on, knuckles turning white as he restrains himself from fucking your boobs again.

"That's better, good boy." Your lips brush his tip and you give him a small kiss over his slit, a loud, sharp gasp being drawn in through his teeth.

"Alright, sweetheart, now you can."

Steven doesn't waste another second before he's thrusting up into you again, the pillowy flesh enveloping his tip each time he drags his hips away. Your tongue waits at the end of each thrust for him and makes wet, sloppy sounds fill his ears as his hips lift further off of the bed, his head tilted back so that his adam's apple bops in his throat.

"Mommy, mommy– Oh God, holy shit.." his moans are even lewder than the sound of his tip hitting your tongue, short pants followed by long drawn out whimpers and (for the lack of a better word) slutty moans are all that can pass his lips, besides the odd 'mommy' and 'shit, fuck, God'.

The poor man only lasts a few minutes before you feel him suddenly jerk and his hips stop altogether, warm ropes hitting your tongue and spreading over between your boobs as he slowly but shakily rolls his hips back and fourth, working the orgasm out of himself with soft whimpers.

You wrap your lips around the pulsing tip of his cock to milk a few more drops from him, with the strange feeling of the fangs making him jolt a little in surprise.

Rewarding him with one last lick, you stand back on your feet, still holding your tits in your hands as you lick your lips and lean towards him.

"Go on then, you said you wanted to suck them."

Steven's eyes dart over the mess splattered over your chest, his face flushing in embarrassment before he closes his eyes and replaces your hands with his own to thumb your nipples, mouth meeting your hot skin to lick his own seed off of you. You run your hand through his hair affectionately and moan quietly while he cleans you up and moves down to your hard buds to roll and circle around them, teasing you as you'd done to him earlier.

"Oh darling..." A breathy pant leaves your lips as you rock your hips towards him, and before you can even say anything, you feel his fingertips slipping underneath your dress and into the pool between your legs, making your grasp tighten in his hair.

"S–teven— we don't have enough time, honey..." Is what you try to warn him, but it just falls on deaf ears as his calloused fingers sweep through your folds and run over your clit in the same way his tongue is teasing your nipples.

"Bite me again."

"What?"

"Bite me again. Please, mommy."

Another moan is tugged from your chest and makes you buck your hips against his perfectly calculating fingers. You curl over him, your mouth resting above that beating nerve till you sink your teeth into him as he presses his thick fingers into your needy, wet hole and drags them along your sweet spot. His groan only makes you bite onto him and grip his shoulders harder till you're driving yourself down on his fingers with muffled moans, his tongue flicking your sensitive nipples.

"Can you cum for me, love? Please cum for me mommy, use my fingers."

Those words send waves of pleasure through your body as your thighs shake and clamp around his hand to stop you from collapsing on the floor, long groans tickling Steven's skin while you ride out your high on his fingers.

You sigh softly and pull your head from his shoulder after you've calmed down, tracing your fingers over the dents on the man's neck.

"Now I've got a real vampire bite, haven't I?" He grins and nudges your neck with his nose.

"Yeah.." you giggle softly and stand up shakily, using his shoulders to hold yourself up as he puts himself away. "Lemme get some new underwear… then we can head out."

"Or you could just wear no underwear–"

"Steven!" You swat his shoulder playfully, "Don't tempt me."

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By the time Steven's whisking you off to the museum toilets, you're both 3 drinks down. Your skin feels all warm, like it's buzzing under the surface, and you can tell that Steven feels the same based on the flushness of his cheeks and the way his words slur together at the ends. Throwing open the women's bathroom door, he guides you into a stall while his mouth sloppily tries to kiss you back, soft whimpers escaping when he can't latch onto your lips in the way he loves too the most.

"Mmnnn, ssstupid bloody fangs..." He grumbles, hands roaming all over your body as if he's a hungry predator toying with its prey.

"You weren't saying that earlier, baaaby." A grin spreads across your lips before you pat his chest to make him stop. "Take them out if they're pissing you off that much, silly billy." You giggle and reach for his mouth to wiggle a finger between his soft lips, your boyfriend automatically wrapping his lips around it and sucking a little as his eyes flutter shut. He chokes when he feels you press down on his tongue.

"Hey!!" A pout replaces his goofy grin.

"I wasn't tryna make you suuuuck it, just trying to get these things out–"

"No, no time; need you now, want you now, love." You feel his fingers start to wander again and slide under your dress and over your naked hips; you'd taken his suggestion of not wearing anything underneath.

He groans, and before you can argue back, he's turning you around and bending you over. You have to hold the walls to balance your dizzy head as you spread your legs apart further for him, looking back at your disheveled, sweaty boyfriend while he fumbles with the zipper of his costume. It doesn't help that he didn't bring his glasses, since they're quite helpful when slightly inebriated, but eventually he manages to pull it down and palm his clothed erection.

"Been teasing me all evening, right, dove?" His large hand splays across your ass and grips the flesh so he can watch how it squishes between his fingers. "Been wanting me to do this since–" he hiccups. "–since we got here."

A simple nod from you doesn't satisfy him, and he reaches down to thumb your clit. "Right, pet?"

God, drunk Steven is going to be the death of you.

"Of course!... Yes honey, wanted this all night." You whine softly and push back on him to feel his clothed tip press against your hole.

"Knew it..." The man giggles a little to himself and leans over you, his fingers clasping over your mouth in a semi tight grip. "Can't be making noise now though, yeah love? Gotta stay nice 'n quiet fffor me..." The thick digits run through your wet folds before pushing his boxers down so his cock can spring out and he can grip the base.

Slowly, he presses into your warmth, groaning softly and resting his head on your spine as the feeling overwhelms his pretty, drunk head. The stretch of him is always admittedly your favourite part, whether it's Steven slowly stretching you out like this, or Marc ruthlessly fucking his shape into you, either way it's the best feeling.

His hips draw back, and then thrust forward again, his cock sliding in and out of you perfectly as the natural curve of his length rubs something inside you that makes it hard for you to stay quiet.

"Oh Steven –ah!– baby–"

"Shhh, keep quiet, love… being sssuuch a good girl." He mumbles in your ear, soft pants and quiet moans building and escaping his own lips. You can't see it, but you can tell his brows are furrowed together in that delicious expression, the one he always does when he's concentrating on fucking you… especially when he's tipsy.

Despite your thoughts wandering for a second, Steven draws you back with a particularly harsh thrust, making you gasp into his hand and your nails drag down the cubicle walls as he continuously hits you with those hard thrusts, albeit a little sloppy and out of rhythm.

"Oh, shit– ssshhit, dove, Imma cum. Lemme cum in you. Please, pet."

His pleading is simply met with a whine and nod from you as your hand dives between your legs and rubs that bundle of nerves in just the right way to make you take in a sharp breath and push back on your boyfriend, enveloping him in your pulsing, wet heat as ropes of hot white paint your walls and Steven's soft moans fill your ears.

Now gripping onto the toilet paper holder, you slowly come down from your high, your thighs still shaking a little as the love if your life takes in staggered breaths.

"Love you..." You hear him mumble from the position in your back that he had his face pressed into. "ssso so much."

"Love you too, baby." You reply, despite the rather unromantic setting of the museum cubicle finally setting in.

"We ssshhould get outta here though, pretty sure Donna was eyeing me when we came in here."

"Eh… fuck her."

Steven's confidence makes you laugh, and you reach your arm behind to pat his head gently, enjoying the silence for a bit longer.

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Tagging people 🖤: @boredzillenial @cowboymarcs @chichimisaki @faretheeoscar @fanofstuffidk @minigirl87 @marisferasiop @red-hydra @summonthesoups @steven-grants-world @queerponcho @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ominoose

#moon knight #moon boys #moon knight smut #moon knight system #steven grant #steven grant smut #oscar isaac characters

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athenaswrath · 2 months

Text

Until I found you - Chapter 4

Quinn Hughes x reader

Word count: 851

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

When you said you wanted to be on Quinn's good side, you never thought you were going to be on his best side. A couple of days after the accident in the kitchen, he kept helping you around, probably still feeling guilty about making you hurt yourself, but it was so easy to get close to him. Way too easy. Whenever you said you're going to do something for the guys, call it food or bring stuff out to the lake, he was immediately by your side. And while it usually takes you long to trust someone, you felt as if you had known him for years, and his calming presence had you feeling comfortable around him soon enough.

The first days consisted of him telling you every single embarrassing story about his brothers (which evened things out due to the fact that the other Hughes told you all his embarrassing moments already, not that you were going to let him know); he even told you about some things his parents never learned about, like that time he made Jack's nose bleed when they were around 7. It was so nice to hear him talk about his family, especially his brothers. You could easily tell how proud he was of them and how much he loves them.

Quinn was so similar to his brothers, and yet, he was not. Well, it didn't feel that way, and it scared you. The Hughes are sweet, kind, funny and caring, but while you see Jack and Luke as brothers, Quinn just seems to be effortlessly beautiful, and you couldn't deny the funny feeling you get whenever you're near him. So no, being close to him and on his best side wasn't exactly a good thing.

One night you were all sitting around a fire, and Quinn by your side was telling you about his teammates when you caught Zegras glancing between the two of you with that smug look of his, and you decided at that moment that you had to get away from Quinn, cause you tried to deny it, but truth be told, you were falling for him. And you were sure there was a rule book out there for this kind of situation, and rule number must be the one that tells you in big, blinking neon letters that you should under no circumstances fall for your best friends' brother.

You noticed how Quinn didn't pay a lot of attention to you when Luke was close, so you spent two whole days by Luke's side (which wasn't weird on a daily basis, Nico is always telling you how you two were platonic soulmates).

On the third day, you were watching a movie with Jamie when Quinn entered the room and sat between the two of you. Jamie offered him some snacks, and the only answered he received was a hard glare and a barely visible shake of his head. After a couple of minutes, Jamie stood up, probably not being able to stand the tension pouring from Quinn's pores, so he just let us know that he was going to catch up with the boys before he closed the door.

"So, why are you ignoring me? Did Luke say something to you?" he asked, never looking away from the screen. "I'm not ignoring you, and what would Luke had to do with that anyway?" he didn't answer, so you turned to keep watching the movie, or try to at least, he was so close that you could clearly hear his breath getting heavier.

There are moments, despite your best efforts, when you still let yourself think about what it would be like to be with him. Like when he lets his gaze find yours after he's made a joke, or when he's telling you something only the closest people to him know. But you know better than to fall for it, you know better than to let yourself fall for him freely.

You were grateful to hear the boys outside the house, and you knew there were seconds before the chaos entered through the door, so you placed your hand on his knee, and you felt him tense next to you. "I don't want you to get tired of me that soon. That's it. I promise." He turned to look at me, but he had furrowed brows and a strange look in his eyes, and I wondered if he could see my real worries, but before he could say anything, the chaos arrived at last.

There were plenty of reasons why you two would never work out, so whenever you caught yourself thinking about him, you started listing them. 1. He's your best friends' brothers, 2. You would never have time to be together, 3. He's way too focused on being captain, 4. You're not girlfriend material.

You barely had any relationship experience, it was so hard for you to trust someone, basically everyone and everything you had was the team. So you were scared of getting attached to anyone for them to dump you or eventually getting tired of you.

Tag list: @coldheartedmar @adore-u-ls

Author's Note: Let me know what you think about this or if you have any suggestions!

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x y/n #qh43 #hughes brothers #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl fic

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oliveisme533 · 3 months

Text

My dad's neighbor is a dilf

Chapter 2

Joel Miller x you

Summery: You had decided to spend your summer in Austin with your dad. You used to spend almost every summer there, but hadn't spent a summer there since you were a teenager. Which means you hadn't seen a certain Joel Miller in years..

Warnings: Verbally abusive boyfriend. Talks of mental health and self harmI will put a sign for what paragraph to skip if you want to avoid that content

Of fucking course Ben would call you... your rub your temple and groan. "It's too late for this shit" you mutter to yourself and flick off the light with a little more force than you intended.

Sunday morning you slept in. It wasn't until about 11:00 that you heard your dad banging around in the kitchen downstairs. You drag yourself out of bed, highly motivated by the smell of coffee making its way to your nose. As your feet hit the landing toilet freeze, the fog of sleep dissipates instantly and your insides turn to liquid. "It's really no problem! I can have it fixed in a couple hours, plus you don't want to wait around with that kind of shit. It can turn into a much bigger problem real quick if you don't take care of it soon" that was Joel's voice. What is Joel doing in your kitchen at 11am on a Sunday?!! Especially when he was just here..last night? Do him and my dad really spend that much time together?? You contemplate running back upstairs but then your dad catches a glimpse of you before you can execute your plan. "Well hey babydoll! Didn't know if you were still alive up there" you offer him a grunt in response as you make your way to the coffee pot. "Good morning to you too" he laughs. "Oh hey, the water is going to be shut off in a bit because there's a leak in the water pipes upstairs. Joel said he would take care of it so water should be back on in an hour or so." "Do you just call Joel instead of a plumber these days?" You question your dad with a raised eyebrow. He chuckles "no, I basically sent him a text this morning asking for his opinion on whether or not this needed to be fixed asap or it was no big deal. I was going to call someone on Monday, but he insisted". Your dad lowered his voice slightly as he then said "between you and me...I think he's trying to stay real busy these days. I know having Sarah with her mom for the summer has been a really hard adjustment for him" that seemed logic enough to you and you said as much to your dad before Joel came back through the front door carrying several tools.

"Well good morning sunshine" he said with a smile that stirred inside of you. "One of these days I oughta teach your dad how to be useful around the house so he can carry on without me" "yeah you two are like a married couple" you joked. Joel chuckled "mmm well who could resist this handsome man" he said gesturing to himself. You rolled your eyes "you're old" it was a cheap shot, but also you secretly would admit his age because you were curious. He laughed and said "yeah Sarah says the same to me" but he didn't say anything else. He walked out of the kitchen and began up the stairs towards the leaky pipe or whatever the hell he was here to fix. As soon as he was out of sight you flung your head back "why...why couldn't dad just call a freakin plumber" you resolved to deal with the Ben situation after you had some breakfast in your stomach. It was not something you were particularly looking forward too, but you knew he wouldn't let up until you responded. Sure you could block him, but it wasn't like he was some tinder date gone wrong. You two had spent years together, not to mention you were adults who needed to handle the situation like adults and not take the easy way out.

After breakfast you found an outfit that wasn't an old t-shirt and shorts with little owls on them. You were still mortified that Joel saw this look. "Okay you can do this" you breathed, picking up your phone and tapping Ben's name." Of course he picked up almost immediately. "Hey.. how are you?" You responded politely, but quickly veered the conversation to what he really wanted to talk about. "Well, I've been thinking. I really think you and I are meant to be together. It just feels right, and I know I haven't always been the best at showing up or just being a good boyfriend in general, but now I really feel I'm ready for that level of commitment" there was a short pause

"listen, Ben ... I just don't see it that way. I've spent too much time over the years being disappointed by your actions. I've broke my own heart so many times because I convinced myself you were really going to change and then to I didn't. I can't do that anymore. We're too old for this. I'm glad you feel like you're ready to commit and I hope you find a girl who is too, but at this point in my life I just can't offer you that." You had feared he would be angry, but weren't prepared for what came next. ⚠️CW⚠️ "Are you fucking serious?? Like after all these years you're just going to throw all that away?! Like honestly I didn't need to come back and give you another chance but I did and" "GIVE ME another chance?!! What the fuck Ben..HOW do you even see it that way??" "WHAT DO YOU MEAN??" He shouted back "babe I have put up with so much of your shit over the years and now I'm saying that it doesn't matter and I'm going to stick around regardless of all that!" Oh now he has crossed a line "MY SHIT?! WHAT, PRAY TELL ARE YOU REFERRING TOO?!" "I have had to do SO MUCH for you like when your mental health is bad you just shut off completely. It's like trying to be in a relationship with a fucking wall! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD THAT IS...WHAT KIND OF TOLL THAT TAKES ON ME." Hot tears of anger were streaming down your cheeks. "I CANNOT believe you said that! Did you ever consider how hard it is FOR ME in those times?! Like honestly Ben you only think about yourself." "Oh really is that why I took off work so I could drive you to the hospital when you slit your wrists and you called me, crying?? Obviously that shows I care for you! You cannot tell me I only care about myself when I had to do that kind of shit for you!" Your chest was now rising and falling very rapidly. You certainly were not thinking about how loud you were being right now, but luckily your dad was outside mowing the lawn, well out of earshot. "Ben that is the bare MINIMUM A PERSON CAN DO. Like you're really hanging that over my head??! fucking grow up! God FORBID YOU TAKE THE TIME TO DRIVE ME TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM DURING THE WORK DAY. How about we talk about all the shit I've done for YOU over the years." You could now hear him laughing. A hollow laugh, but a laugh all the same. "Oh DONT EVEN. What could you POSSIBLY have done to compare to me being your GODDAMN NURSE when you're a grown adult." It was all too much. You were all but sobbing at this point. "You are such an ASSHOLE Ben! Don't EVER call me again! THIS IS OVER. I will NEVER love you and you will NEVER speak to me this way again. If you so much as text me...I'm going to get fucking restraining order!" You choked out. "A RESTRAINING ORDER ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?? My dads a literal LAWYER you know that right babe?! I'm NOT going to let that happen!" "Do you even hear yourself right now??! LEAVE ME THE. FUCK. ALONE."

End of CW

You hang up the call and crumple to your bed with heaving sobs. You are interrupted by a knock on your door. Presuming it's your dad you walk over to open in and all but fling yourself out the door way knowing he's standing right then ready to hold you. Hug you and tell you everything will be okay like you're 13 or something. The blurred your vision and it was not your dad on the other side of the door. Your head hit his chest and you flung your arms up around his neck. "Dad I hate boys!" You sobbed. But then you realized the height wasn't right, the smell wasn't right, the arms and chest weren't right...

you practically jumped backwards and to your horror saw Joel Miller standing before you. His soft puppy dog eyes heavy with concern and care. "I-um sorry. I assumed it was my dad or I never would have" Joel held up a hand to cut you off. "It okay, you don't need to apologize...I've got a daughter of my own don't think I haven't had the same hug and those same tears." His voice was soft and gentle, and he smiled at the last comment. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay." You could only nod. "It's none of my business, but this guy sounds like bad news and it's a matter of your safety...does your dad know about all this?" You nodded again. "Yes he knows about Ben...although I'll need to update him on the new low that Ben stooped to today. But my dad knows and I feel safe...and in blocking Ben's number." Joel's brows were knit together. "Okay...I don't need to know about but your dad does and it sounds like you've got a good thing going there." You felt awkward and more than anything wanted to disappear and forget this interaction ever took place. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other and picked at your fingers "um yeah I think everything with be fine now" you said awkwardly. "Alright well I apologize for intruding into your private life, but I'm glad you're safe and under your dads roof." He started to walk away when you heard yourself say "Thank you Joel..I really appreciate it."he smiled at you and said "don't mention it" "You better finish up fixing that leak before my dad finds something else to break." Joel laughed "don't worry I'm just about done and I'll be out of yalls way in a jiffy." What a day... and it's only noon

#lovers #joel tlou #joel miller #smut #fanfic #joel and ellie #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff

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siena-sevenwits · 4 months

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As a recovering reader myself, I am here to remind you that if you want to read more but are struggling, you have full permission to do any and all of the following:

Read the ending first, or look up the big spoilers.

Read a summary first, or scene by scene.

Skip around passages/come back to them when you're more ready

Watch the movie/read the graphic novel/look at the fanart first to pique your interest

Write/draw/highlight/scrapbook in the book itself (YOU ARE ALLOWED, assuming the book is yours! THIS MAKES IT A LOVED BOOK! You can also tip in pages specifically for this if you want more room - literally run some glue along the edge of a piece of paper, wedge it as deep as you can between two open pages, close the book and let it dry for a couple of minutes, and voila! Blank pages! I promise you ,you will not accidentally glue your book shut.)

Take the book up again even if it's been "too long" and guilt is telling you that you need to start over for some reason.

Listen to audiobooks only - it's real reading!! Reading is absorbing the words the author wrote, whether through a page recreated by a printing press or a page recreated by the sounds of a human voice!

Speed up or slow down the audiobook

Read at your own speed without regard to challenges or comparison

Use a device

Read the words out loud or under your breath

Have fifteen books on the go at once, or just one

Give up on a book that's not working for you at all, and find a fresh one that works better

Never track your reading

Track your reading meticulously and become addicted to your stats

Make reading more social by reading aloud to someone else, blogging your reading, obnoxiously talking your friend's ear off - whatever you like!

And yes, you can also keep your experience spoiler free, read straight through, keep your book in pristine condition, track your stats meticulously etc. etc.! Those are wonderful too. The point is, don't sabotage your reading with "shoulds," be gentle with yourself, and set yourself up to enjoy it. I'm three years into my recovering reader project, and I still have to be gentle with myself about habits I want to embrace but am not quite there yet.

#recovering reader #coreander's old books #Some of these I have done and others are just things I think it might be useful to consider #reading #books

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icannot3 · 9 months

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"Apologies and Tire-Swings"

Jimmy Darling x Reader

Word count: 3.1k (another long one wooo I'm on a roll)

Warnings: there's arguing? Idk if that should be a warning or not lmao. It ends on a good note!!! So no worries hehe

Taglist: @taintandviolent @lilthbunny @quickandsilvers @kaismanwich (comment if you'd like to be added!)

....................

The humid summer Florida air is where you find yourself feeling most at peace, among the many you love. There's nothing extravagant about your lifestyle, yet there's a deep level of contempt that radiates through you with warm, fuzzy delight that's hard to beat. Blood relations are irrelevant. Your family has always been within the circus, among the socially unacceptable that are all bonded by the oppression they face in the real world. It sparks a deep level of understanding and trust that can never be broken.

Being born and raised around the same people for eighteen years, you only found that Jimmy could hold such a special place in your heart, different from the others. A friendship that roots deeply into your childhood, flourishing through your teens and carrying now into young adulthood. Jimmy, your partner in crime, your sanction. Hell, your soulmate and other half. He was there through all of the good and the bad. There to wipe your tears when you were still scared of stages, there to cheer you on, there to beat up shitty ex-lovers and remind you how you always deserved better.

Truly, you have no clue what you would do without him.

Nothing brings up the pleasant feeling of nostalgia every summer like the first show of the year. You've been practicing your act since last season. As a contortionist, learning flips to impress the crowd in different ways is a necessity. You take pride in the fact that you managed to learn how to gracefully aerielle across the stage during the cold winter months. Jimmy, of course, was a big help, always spotting you and never letting you fall. He himself learned a couple more juggling tricks. Despite his talent, he still gets unbearably shy about showcaseing it every season.

Performance night is finally here after your long anticipated await. Jimmy is before you, which is how it's always been. Elsa is a woman of order who wouldn't dare to switch up the original line, even despite Jimmy's pleas against going first immediately after her opening. You hold one of his large hands between your own two. He's shaking but trying to play it off, yet another tradition before every show. You stroke his thumb, trying to ease his worries.

"Jimmy, I just know you're gonna do great! Just like every year. You've never disappointed." Your voice comes out as an encouraging whisper in order to not be heard over Elsa's singing. Jimmy swallows harshly, his breathing coming out in deep, shakey exhales. It's a method he's used since he was young to calm himself, something his mother taught him.

Elsa's singing comes to a grand end, colorful confetti exploding everywhere. Her beautiful performance brings an inspired uproar from the crowd. You release Jimmy's hand, stepping in front of him. He quickly grabs his props, the small box full of them almost slipping from his trembling hands. "You say that every year."

You chuckle, fixing his hair back to perfection by readjusting his curls. "And every year, I mean it just the same. Blow their minds, Jimmy. There's a reason you go first." Before he can even argue against your statement, his name is called onto the stage. You cheer behind the stage with the crowd, giving him one final push of encouragement. He's good at hiding his panic, smoothly proceeding to the middle of the platform and reciting his lines. He only stutters once but is quick to get back on track and play it off. You couldn't be more proud.

His hands work magic, although you can hardly see the shadow figures he uniquely creates with the florescent lights, the crowd gasps in awe, which tells you enough. He ends the first part of his act with a joke that makes many in the tent chuckle before moving on to the part he stresses over most. His worries are pointless. He takes three balls in his hands to start, tossing them skillfully in the air.

Jimmy is sweating, deeply concentrated on his task. So much so that he stood no chance when a foreign object in the crowd strikes him in the face. It's luckily not enough to hurt him, but the balls he once held fall to the ground and roll off the stage. You gasp, stunned by the ignorance of the act. Jimmy's concentrated face switches from that to one full of rage. He clenches his fists so tightly his knuckles turn white.

"Do something entertaining, freak!"

It's a deep masculine voice from the crowd. You share Jimmy's rage, wanting to scream at whoever dares to speak to him in such a manner. Part of you panics when you see Jimmy walk to the very front of the stage, his murderous rage clearly radiating across the room. "The fuck did you just say to me? I'll kick your ass!" Jimmy's shout booms intimidatingly across the room. Everyone knows that his threat is far from empty. You hear Elsa run across the stage, the hurried clanking of her heels being easy to distinguish. She makes an apologetic remark before escorting Jimmy away. He doesn't do much to fight her, but his piercing eyes never lose sight of the man in the crowd.

You take the backstage route off of the stage and search for Jimmy outside. Your act won't take place for a good while, so you know you have time to spare. He's mumbling something under his breath in a frustrated manner. You trot over to him, immediately placing a hand on his shoulder. "Jimmy, I'm so sorry, are you okay?"

He doesn't respond, flinching away from your touch instead. Jimmy continues to quickly trudge forward, eventually meeting a tree. He punches it hard. The bark crumbles away from the place of impact as he grabs his red knuckles. You once again run back up to him, putting yourself between him and the tree. "Jimmy, stop! You're hurting yourself."

"I can't keep doing this. I won't be treated that way - it ain't right." He sounds so hopeless, like the fire within him has been put out. His hot rage has simmered down to defeated ashes that fall to the ground. His eyes are red, and the sight brings you pain. You try to bring a hand to his cheek to wipe away the moisture, but he pushes it away. "Jimmy, you can't let this stuff bother you so much. It's not worth it."

He scoffs, taking a step away from you. "Like you would ever fucking know what it feels like." Jimmy looks away, his annoyance clear in his movements. "You're not a freak. You never have been. You have no clue what it's like to be looked down on. When you walk through town, no one says a damn thing or stares at you like you're a monster. You don't ever have to worry about goin' into a diner and being denied service because of how you look." His words are true. You were adopted into the circus only because you were dropped off and abandoned next to one as a baby of only a few hours old. It just so happened that you were born with the skill of extreme flexibility. But his statement hurts like a knife twisting inside of your chest. "I know, I'm not taking away from what you go through at all. I'm just saying that at the end of the day, none of this matters. No one in that crowd matters, Jimmy! Nothing bad they say about you is true, that just comes with this career."

"Well, maybe I'm not like you, and I don't want to be cooped up in some dead-end circus where I get disrespected the moment I walk on stage." Jimmy delivers his final blow before stomping in the opposite direction. "Go back to your fucking show." Immediate rage fills you whole. He's never spoken to you in such a way. For that matter, the two of you have never even argued. You feel wronged, and the shock leaves you infuriated. You can almost pull your hair out from frustration. It was only your intention to help him, and he took it to the extremes. Instead of arguing more with him, which feels like speaking to a brick wall, you head back to the tent to finish the night and hopefully blow off some steam. When you return, no one dares to utter a word about your disappearance once they see your agitated state.

Even weeks later, you couldn't help but wonder if Jimmy had always perceived you in such a foul manner. You feel judged and betrayed when thinking back on it. The stubbornness you both share in common has left things silent between you both, not a single word uttered about the matter. Even Ethel was beginning to grow worried, as the two of you before were inseparable. Eve stopped you the one day, appearantly she tried to pry the issue out of Jimmy first but he refused to even discuss the matter. You simply told her that he needed to get over himself without much further explanation, which left anyone invested in the drama all the more confused.

Jimmy, out of rebellion, decided to stop performing in shows. This did little to keep the peace between he and Elsa. She would push him, but with that, Jimmy would shove and dissappear for days on end. Everyone was growing increasingly concerned, and you wouldn't have agreed to speak to Jimmy had Ethel herself not come to you personally; worried sick for her son. She explained how she believes you're truly the only one who can talk any sense to him. And how could you say no to the woman who practically raised you?

You decided to leave a note on the door on Jimmy's camper, which was a request to meet you at a nearby lake. You inquire that it would make you feel better about meeting him if he shows the mutual effort of trying to reconnect by coming. The spot holds a special sentiment between you two. Each summer in your youth was spent there for hours each day until the sun went down, having the time of your lives. Your heart flutters when you immediately find the old tire-swing still up on the same tree. You don't dare to touch it, scared the weakened rope would snap. All of the pleasant memories would be shattered. Jimmy was always such a gentleman when he was younger. He'd push you on that swing for hours if you asked him, never requesting you do the same in return.

You wait for an hour, maybe two. With night approaching and the soothing sound of the frogs chirping, you nearly fell asleep. Until you heard the quiet rustling of greenery behind you. There Jimmy stood, for a moment you almost entirely forgot about the dispute. A shred of happiness sprouted from seeing him in this place again after many years of abandonment. Although he'd grown into a young man, you could still make out the softness left in his cheeks and warmth in his smile that remained from all those many years ago. Jimmy wordlessly seats himself beside you. This is the closest you two have been to each other in a while.

"Can't believe that tire swing is still up." Jimmy opts to break the silence. "It was hardly even hangin' on when we were kids." You melt, finally realizing how much you missed just talking to him. It puts your soul at ease. "Yeah, I wonder how skinny we must have been to be able to both squeeze in the center of that thing." Jimmy chuckles with you, the night air causing the swing to flow with the wind. Another string of awkward tension fills the silence. So many things fly through your mind as you try to think of what to say. Jimmy himself seems lost in his silence. You wonder if he's thinking the same thing.

"I'm sorry about everything. How I came off wasn't my intention. I don't fully understand your struggles, and I don't have a right to act like I do." You scooch closer to him, allowing his body to block some of the chilly breeze. "But because I don't understand what you go through, I just want you to know that you can always talk to me, okay? I want to understand so I can help. You know you can tell me anything, right?" Jimmy stares at you, his eyes traveling from your eyes to the ground.

He stretches his arm out, allowing you to fully lean in as he surrounds you with his warmth. The hug is comforting and fills you with relief. "Well, I acted like an ass. So, really, I should be apologizing. I didn't mean anything I said, I was angry and lost control of my words, and I just - I'm sorry." He rubs over the goosebumps on your arms, smoothing them out with his warmth. "I should have just told you what was botherin' me." You cock a brow in his direction, urging him to go on.

"Honestly, I feel so trapped here. It's like I have no choice over what I do with my life. Sometimes I think about runnin' away, somewhere that I can get a house and a real job. Have a family, a wife. Hell, maybe even a dog." This makes you giggle, Jimmy's always wanted a dog. Once, he tried to take in a stray until his mother found out he was hiding it in her trailer. She came home to discover her new pillows torn to shreds on the ground. It's safe to say he was not allowed to keep the poor sucker. "Point is, I wanna see what's out there. Maybe with you. I just took it way outta proportion and hurt you in the process when you had no clue."

You lean into his shoulder, pulling him in tightly. "Oh, Jimmy... There's absolutely nothing wrong with that." You shake your head. "I want you to be happy, and I'll support you every step of the way." His breathing halts for just a few seconds. You would have missed it if your head wasn't pressed against his chest. He's shakey, a lot like how he gets before a performance. You can tell something else is bothering him. But instead of prying him for a reason, you sit in silence, waiting for him to share what he's comfortable with. A few minutes are in silence, just the two of you basking in the affection of one another.

"Every time I think about runnin' away, I think about doing it with you." He's quiet, his words slow and calculated. The thought makes your head spin and chest feel tight. Except it's not a bad feeling. You embrace it like a warm blanket. "There's another thing I haven't told you."

Jimmy pulls you a little tighter, as if he's scared that if he lets go, you'll escape. "Truth is, I'm so damn in love with you it hurts. I have been since we were kids. I've been threatening your boyfriends for years to make them leave so that I could have you all to myself, as terrible as that is to say." His hand strokes your hair as he places his chin over your head. You can feel his heart rate accelerate, but you're confident that it isn't nearly as fast as your own. "I've loved you since we were too young to even know what that word means, all the way back to when we'd play tag in these fields unsupervised and laugh together for hours." He takes one final deep breath. "I don't ever wanna live a life without you, and I'll stay here forever if that's what you want because you mean the world to me. And if having you means that I gotta get up and sing or juggle on a stage every now and then, I'll gladly do that."

You're stunned, flustered beyond the point of recuperating. You begin to question every idea of friendship you've ever had with Jimmy. And you come to realize that you've been in love with Jimmy from the moment you met him. It was just seen as a forbidden thing you wouldn't dare to explore. But really, there was no use in that because he already had. This entire time. Jimmy Darling loves you in more than just a platonic way, and you couldn't be happier sitting between his arms in this moment knowing that fact.

His hand, his beautiful perfect hand, traces along your jaw. He motions for you to tilt towards his face. You allow him, letting his thumb graze over your bottom lip so delicately you could cry. His nose grazes against your own, the playful sentiment making you smile. Jimmy takes this as an opportunity. His lips capture your own tenderly. It's addictive, like the sweetest liquor in town that you just can't get enough of. He's caressing your cheek, taking his time melting into your touch. By the end of it, he has you completely breathless, but then he eagerly continues for more. He nibbles your lower lip, deepening the longing you feel for him. You wrap your hands around his back. Without a word, he's laying you on top of the soft grass and hungrily having his way, trailing an assortment of kisses and teasing bites down your neck. It's heavenly, a feeling you're sure you couldn't experience with any other.

A loud crash frightens you, followed by the harsh splash of something colliding with water. Jimmy covers you with his body, scouting the area of any danger. Pinned underneath of him, you're unable to see what's going on. Until you hear his hysterical laughter before he rolls off of you. Sitting up, you see for yourself what is responsible for the sound.

The damn tire-swing. Its time had finally come to an end, the rope seems to have snapped, and there it went, rolling into the lake. You found yourself not as upset about it as you thought you'd be, laughing along with him. Once you finally come out of your hysterics, you roll over and lay against Jimmy's chest, throwing a leg over his own. He rubs small circles into your back, savoring every second.

"I knew that thing was gonna fall."

#evan peters #fluff #ahs #american horror story #jimmy darling #jimmy darling x reader #jimmyyyy #jimmy darling fluff #angst

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