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#most of the time I wear headphones too but JESUS
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Request: Hey, just wanted to let you know that I loved this fic! I would love read more Sam x Reader written by you, specially one where we could see a more vulnerable side of Sam and her being taking care of! Thank you for all the content you give us 😊
Of course I can do that, I too love the vulnerable side of Sam that I picture in my head. She's so cute and loveable and just adorable in general. She's definitely protective af as per usual like "Touch her and your dead", but at the same time is like begging you to hold her hand, kiss her, hug her etc basically all of the time.
@carolcunha7 This one is for you.
This is smuttier then I intended it to be, but let me know if you'd prefer a less smuttier version and I'll see what I can do :)
*****
Make You Feel Better
Sam Carpenter x Female Reader
Word Count: 1524.
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*****
You had been on the floor of yours and Sam's bedroom, in the apartment the two of you shared with Sam's little sister, Tara, and their roommate, Quinn, painting for the past hour and a half, waiting for Sam to come back from her appointment with her counsellor.
You had nearly finished painting you were making for Sam, almost ready for it to be signed, when you heard the front door open, and then close again.
"Sam! Is that you baby?" You shouted, slightly on edge in case you had to get up from the crossed leg position you were in on the hardwood floor of the room, and hide the painting from her and not smudge the wet paint.
You heard somebody grunting and mumbling, along with things being thrown around. Assuming it was Quinn and one of her 'gentlemen friends'; as you and Tara had so graciously named them, you decided to grab your earplugs from your bedside table, hoping it would drown out the gross sounds they would most likely be making.
Just as you were about to put them on, somebody burst into the room. Quickly turning around, you saw Sam wearing her headphones, pacing up and down the floor at the end of your double bed, not noticing you were on the floor yet. You took this opportunity to slid the painting under the bed, luckily there wasn't anything under there yet.
"You're gonna wear the wood out if you keep doing that." You said, making her break the pattern of pacing and almost jump out of her skin.
"Fucking hell," Sam stated, pulling the headphone off her ears and letting them rest on her shoulders, "You can't scare people like that, Jesus. I thought you were still at Econ with Tara and Ethan" She added, wiping her face.
"Sorry, decided to come home early." You said, laughing it off, before getting up and walking over to and standing in front of her, "Wait, Sam have you been crying?" You questioned, seriously, placing a hand on her cheek and tilting your head to get a better angle at looking at her bloodshot eyes.
"It's nothing." She replied, avoiding making eye contact with you, fiddling with the seam of her jumper.
"Sam, don't lie to me baby." You mused, grasping her face gently with both of your hands making her look at you. "What happened?" You asked her, looking into her glossy, brown eyes, searching for any trace of doubt or hurt.
"I just- I," She stuttered, trying to think of an excuse, but seeing the sincere look on your face, made her realise she couldn't lie to you, "I was with the counsellor and we were talking about Woodsboro and about everything that happened in the house and about Richie, and I told him what happened, how I- how I killed him, how if I didn't I would've died, you would've died, how we all would've. And he got all bitchy about me being just like my dad and how I'm a sorry excuse for a human, just being a massive asshole. So I cursed him out, shouted at him, called him every name under the sun, and left." She explained.
You didn't know what to say, there's no way somebody could professionally talk to someone like that.
"I mean he's right though," Sam stated, breaking away from the soft hold you had on her, taking off her jumper and discarding it on the floor before turning back to you, catching a glimpse of her chest were her top had ridden up, in the mirror in your room walking over to it, "I mean look, I'm a monster." She added, keeping her t shirt held up half way, tracing over the scars where she had been stabbed just over a year ago, tearing up at the sight of how horrific she looked.
Picturing her blood dripping down her stomach and hands, with her dark grey tank top stained with Richie's blood, looking as fresh as it did the day she saw it in an evidence bag when she climbed into the ambulance with you and Tara.
"No, no Sam," You started, walking up behind her and resting your head on her shoulder, wrapping your hands around her waist, rubbing light circles into her hips. "You are many things, but you are not a monster. The scars you have, they aren't meant to be hidden, they're meant to be shown, shown to all the fuckers out there that think horrible things about you, not knowing a single thing you've been through, that you're a fighter, that you survived. Not many people can do that, not many people can say they went through all of that shit and came out the other side." You added, kissing the crook of her neck.
Noticing her gaze was still focused on the scar peaking out of the bottom of her shirt, and tears starting to pour down her cheeks, you moved around to stand in front of her.
"Hey, look at me baby," You stated, grasping the hand she had holding up her shirt in your right hand gently, and wiping the tears away with your left. "What can I do?" You asked, making sure she's looking at you.
"I want them to go away." Sam choked, indicating to her scars.
"I know you do, I know you do." You repeated, hugging her tightly, before sitting her down on the end of your bed "Can you take some deep breaths for me, darling?"
"Yeah, I can try." Sam replied, breathing in and out slowly, trying to calm herself down to stop herself from crying more.
"I can't make them go away, but I can make you feel better about them." You said, as Sam gave you a questioning look, before she could get any words out to ask you what you meant, you kissed her deeply.
"Do you trust me?" You asked as she broke from the kiss. She nodded.
"Then trust me and relax." You stated, pushing her back gently.
As Sam felt her back hit the mattress, causing her to yelp slightly.
"You okay?" You asked, towering over her stomach.
"Yeah just caught me by surprise, that's all." She replied.
"Okay, am I good to keep going?" You questioned.
"Yeah, it's fine. Do what you were doing, I don't mind." Sam spoke.
You nodded in acknowledgement, before moving up to her face and beginning to plant kisses on it, on her jaw and down to her neck, sucking light hickeys on it, before your mouth travelled down to the strap of her tank top, moving it to the side, starting to kiss along her shoulders, left to right, right to left, and back again.
After repeating this several times, your hand moved to lift her tank top up to where her bra ended, before your mouth moved to her sternum, kissing up and down it, causing her to moan your name softly and shiver slightly.
Moving yourself down to the end of the bed, kneeling in front of Sam's legs and resting your hands on her hips, made her tense up, suddenly getting insecure again unsure of what to do.
Sensing this, you moved your hands to her stomach, starting to gently trace your hands over it, to somehow communicate with her and reassure her that it was okay. You continued this for a little, until she relaxed a lot more.
This was when you continued the kissing trail down her body, and started kissing over her stomach, taking extra care and kissing them longer when your lips lingered over her scar.
This made both her hands go to the back of your head, entangling her fingers in your hair, tugging on it firmly when she felt good, whimpering occasionally, in between moaning your name softly.
"That's all you needed baby? Just needed me to make you feel better?" You asked, suggestively.
"That's all I needed- all I needed- to feel better." Sam replied, panting lightly, while scratching the top of your back lightly.
"You're so fucking perfect, Sammy." You stated, teasingly tracing your hands over her thighs, causing her to buck her hips up and moan loudly.
"Not now baby," You said, resting your hands firmly on her thighs, "Maybe later, but for now we are watching movies and cuddling." You said, standing up and planting a kiss on her forehead.
"Okay," Sam sighed, grumbling a little, "As long as we've got popcorn, cause if we don't I'm not watching." She added.
"Who do you think I am? What psycho doesn't eat popcorn when they watch movies?" You questioned, walking toward the kitchen to get snacks before turning around when you heard Sam giggling, to see her with her hands covering her face.
"I'm glad you're my happy girl again Sam." You stated, looking at her with heart eyes.
"Me too," Sam replied, "But that doesn't mean I don't still need to be made to feel better late." The brunette added, seriously, sitting up and pointing at you.
"I'm counting on it." You answered, walking out the room to get snacks.
*****
Wow okay, disclaimer my first time writing anything remotely smutty so don't judge me if it's absolutely shit, but yeah I'm gonna go bleach my eyes (for legal reasons, that's a joke).
Hope you enjoyed reading, I guess, and yeah see you in the next one.
-Harlow
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kissmetae · 2 years
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Strangers to lovers
❧ Jungkook x Reader
❧  AU: You’re a regular at the gym and today you decided to workout late. You thought you were alone, but it turned out there was one other person at the gym and you so happened to be his gym crush...
|| SMUT || 3.2k || masterlist in bio ||
❧ Rating: MATURE || sexual content, unprotected sex, public sex ||  Warnings 
❧ Smut features: Semi-public (gym), Oral (giving/receiving), fingering, Leading!Jungkook (Top/Power-Bottom), unprotected, descriptive, creampie, greedy, hickeys, on the gym bench, tongue, grunting and groaning, roleplaying
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❧ Disclaimer: This is fiction. Actions and events in these stories are often exaggerated and to a certain degree unrealistic.  Please have this in consideration when reading fiction, especially if it includes sexual content. 
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The clinking sound of weights along with the to-nobody's-taste music was what you'd usually hear while at the gym. People with their headphones on, emersed in what they came to do or aimlessly wandering around like a lost ghost without a plan staring at the clock every other minute. You were a regular at this gym and had a set weekly plan of what muscles to work on and which exercises to do. Today... or tonight rather, was a bit out of your ordinary plan.
You swiped your membership card at the doors, a green light came on and the door made a click sound. During the unstaffed hours you expected it to be a lot calmer but not empty...
The gym almost had an eerie feeling to it when it was like this. The large open floor plan space with big windows usually felt fresh and motivating. But the windows only accommodated the darkness of the late night and the open space almost gave a sense of kenophobia. Well... along to the beat of "call on me" by Eric Prydz the most cliche gym anthem ever. Completely ruining the horror movie set vibe.
You put on your own headphones and hit play on your gym playlist as you headed towards the cross-trainer to warm up.
Today was your glute day and you'd usually workout in the morning before work but today you'd swapped shifts with your co-worker and decided to sleep in and head to the gym late for a change.
However, when you plopped your phone and water bottle into the oversized cupholders of the machine, you noticed you weren't the only person here.
The gym had an L-shaped layout, thus you hadn't seen the familiar dark haired man by the weights rack.
You let out a sigh as you got onto the machine. What was worse? An overcrowded gym or being alone with 1 other person there pretending to not notice each other? What do you even do? You can't just casually say hi to them it'd be weird, wouldn't it? Well in this case it would be very weird.
Because you knew him.
Well, not knew-knew. You had no idea what his name was, but you'd seen him here numerous times before so clearly he was a regular like you.
He was built like a regular too...
His long black hair was brushed back and held secure by a headband, earbuds in his ear, curvy arms and a well-defined back.
He grabbed two free weights, wearing black lifting gloves and sat down on one of the benches. He was wearing a black tank top and shorts, making his quads visibly flex when he sat down.
In this very moment he looked up and spotted you. His brow, pierced, raised in surprise and you quickly looked away. Wow the out-of-order pulse reader on this thing sure was interesting to look at... 10:00. Your warmup was done... maybe you should just leave. It felt so awkward being just the two of you here... and the squat rack was right next to him...
You stepped off the cross-trainer and almost tripped back and fell when he suddenly stood behind you.
"Jesus ch-" You let out and clutched your bottle to your chest. Once you moved your headphone back from one ear he parted his lips to speak... the lower lip was also pierced.
"Sorry... I just wanted to ask if you could spot me... if you have time. You can say no, I just thought... since you're here. Not that I was waiting for you I just mean you as in another person..." He stuttered.
To be honest, you hadn't expected him to be shy or soft for that matter. His exterior had a very contrasting vibe... especially with the fully tattooed sleeve on his arm.
Maybe it was too soon to tell from a single sentence, but you felt a bit "mistaken" for dubbing him as a "gym-bro" aka avoid-at-all-costs-bro merely for hearing him grunt too loud that one time...
"Oh, sure. I could need a spotter too actually, I was heading to the squat rack." (Fuck why did I say that. Emergency swap to core-day cancelled... no backing out now.)
He smiled. Calling it a cute one would be an understatement.
"Nice! I'll move my bench over and we could alternate sets with rests." He said and removed his other earpiece.
Heading back, he dragged the bench over towards the squat rack and grabbed a bar for you.
You gathered your weight stacks and threaded them onto the bar and secured them. You never had anyone spot you while squatting before... but for some reason you felt the need to justify yourself agreeing to help him. Why was this so awkward? Were you the only one who felt this way?
"Wanna go first?" He asked, adjusting the strap on his glove.
"Sure. What's your name by the way?"
"Jungkook."
You positioned yourself by the rack, kneeling slightly to get the bar up from its rest and began your set.
"What's yours?" Jungkook asked, standing behind you with his hands ready to catch the bar.
You stood back up, told him your name and squatted back down again.
When your thighs began to tremble, you pushed through the last rep and let out a deep exhale. Jungkook grabbed the bar and helped you hook it back in the rest.
Well, that wasn't so bad...
You turned around and Jungkook sat on the bench, leaning down to pick up the weights. You walked around the bench and stood behind him.
"I'll do some shoulder presses, my right arm tends to give up on form so feel free to poke me back in place." He said, sounding eager.
He began his rep, pushing the weights up over his head and lowering them to a 90-degree angle, and repeated. You held your hands at the sides of his triceps, without touching. When his form gave in to the end of his rep you adjusted him slightly.
Two more and he let out a deep groan, dropping the weights down to the floor.
"Give me a minute" he panted, hands gripping the edge of the bench.
The veins at his forearms were prominent.
Maybe he was lifting a bit too heavy, but you felt like it wasn't your place to tell him.
But it turned out you didn't need to. Jungkook got up and grabbed a set of lighter weights from the rack, hiding a flustered smile.
"Ah, my plan failed." He admitted followed by a chuckle.
"What plan?"
Jungkook leaned down and grabbed the heavier weights to put them back on the rack.
"To impress you with heavy weights."
"You'll have to try harder. I couldn't care less what somebody lifts." You said playfully.
"A part of me knew you wouldn't care but... I couldn't stop myself. It's like a peacock showing off its feathers when his crush walks by." He said and let out a little laugh. "Ready for your next?" Jungkook asked and rested his arms on the bar.
"Why would you want to impress me? You don't know me."
He looked down shyly at his sneakers.
"Not completely true, I've seen you around a lot. You're kind of my gym crush... so I was really glad when I saw you walk in because I've had a shit day today."
You were his gym crush?!
You swallowed, trying to, but failing to stop yourself from blushing.
"Is that why you're here so late today?"
Jungkook nodded. "Needed to let it out somehow..."
"Understandable."
Jungkook moved aside and you took your spot in the squat rack again.
You tried to avoid his gaze in the mirror so you wouldn't blush even more and focused your eyes on the corner where the floor met the wall. Suddenly you felt a hand gently press to your back at the sweaty skin between your leggings and sports bra.
"Careful with your back." Jungkook said and you tensed your core, straightening your back more. He was distracting... it was harder to focus on your form after hearing you were his gym crush... who was currently squatting in front of him. Who knew what thoughts were swirling around his head right now...?
He was attractive, you had to admit it... maybe you supressed your own attraction to him with your gym-bro label... but groans and grunts were unbearable... coming from him.
It was Jungkook's turn again, and you didn't know if you were imagining things, but his groans just kept getting louder. He was biting his lip towards the end of his set and let out a deep grunt pushing through the last. One half of you wanted to grab the dumbbell from his hand and throw it to his gut and tell him to shut up and the other wanted to straddle him on the bench and make him groan even louder.
"Are you always this loud, Jungkook?" You blurted out, followed by an awkward laugh.
"No." Short and simple. "Do you always do glutes?"
"No."
"My bad, I thought so since you have such a nice ass."
The dumbbell in the gut sounded a lot more tempting now.
"I had a rep left but I'm afraid I'll trigger you to grunt even more now."
Jungkook leaned back on his palms and let out a laugh.
"Well, it's just you and me here. Technically we can do whatever we want and be as loud as we want too." His tone was suggestive. "What’s next after your squats?" He asked.
"It was hip thrusts, but I won't be doing them." You said, placing your hands on his shoulders, feeling his muscles tense under your touch.
"Why not?" He asked.
"You will." You smirked.
Jungkook leaned his head back and looked up at you. “But I’m doing upper body today.” He teased. You walked around the bench to stand in front of him and leaned forward, placing your hands on his strong thighs. He swallowed. The smirk was suddenly gone, and he was the one blushing now.
He was flustered but he tried to keep it together… he couldn’t deny how much he wanted you anymore. Your gaze was fixed on his hard on. He took a hold of your wrist and moved your left hand to touch him. You added some pressure, rubbing him firmly through his shorts. Jungkook’s breathing picked up a heavier rhythm and his hands tightened their grip on the bench edge.
His gaze looked up towards the entrance quickly, making sure nobody was coming in and he suddenly stood. Regardless of strength you couldn’t keep him pinned down even if you tried. He was a lot stronger than you. His arms wrapped around you, and he picked you up with ease.
“We’re going to get banned if we get caught.”
“I don’t care.” He said and laid you down on the bench.
“I don’t either.” You confessed, slipping out a giggle.
You were both too consumed by the sexual tension and excitement to stop now. Jungkook grabbed your ankle, holding it up as he slipped off your sneakers and repeated with the other. He reached towards your waist and slipped his fingers inside the hem of your tight leggings, pulling them down your legs and dropping them on top of your sneakers.
His hand pressed firmly against your crotch, adding pressure against your clit and immediately putting your nerves on high alert. His fingers pushed between your lower lips rubbing along your slit, soaking the fabric with your wetness. He briefly threw a glance back up and returned with a smirk wider than before. His confidence was growing.
He grabbed the sides of your panties and slipped them down and off your legs. A tight grip of his still gloved hands at your ankles and he pulled you closer towards him before kneeling down.
Your thighs were spread, toes barely touching the floor and his lips pressed up against your clit, causing your toes to curl. His tongue was greedy, hands strong against your thighs, stopping you from squeezing him between them. His tongue flicked up over your clit before he latched on with his lips again, sucking firmly and pressing a greedy kiss almost like a claim.
His left hand abandoned your thigh, coming to part your lips to give him more room to taste and explore. Long greedy licks… You arched your back, letting out a whimper at the overwhelming pleasure and you just barely heard him whisper “Yes, baby.” Against you.
His fingers slipped in, gently but impatiently. Two.
They curled, caressing against the sweet, sweet spot within as his tongue greedily licked up the result of his actions. He could tell you were too tight for him still and scissored his fingers, stretching you and making you moan out his name in a plead.
Maybe he’d have to solve that differently… he couldn’t handle himself much longer.
Jungkook slipped his fingers out carefully and stood back up. His knees were red.
You wouldn’t let him get what he wanted just yet. You thought and pushed yourself up to sit. His hand had already slipped in below the hem of his shorts and his gaze was darkened. The intimidating exterior was back… but it didn’t feel threatening anymore. It was tempting.
You pulled him closer by the hips, pushing his shorts and underwear down his muscly thighs and he stepped out of them with his hand firmly wrapped around his dick, stroking himself.
His gaze was suggestive but unsure. You could tell he was wishing for what you were about to do, but he unsure how to insinuate it without going against your comfort…
You replaced his hand with your own, leaned forwards and pressed the tip of his dick towards your lip, looking up first to see his rapidly moving chest before slipping your lips down over his tip and taking the head fully. He was sensitive. You began to suck, and he let out a deep sigh mixed with a moan of relief. His hand rested against your head but without trying to control, letting you be in charge of your own moves.
Your hand wasn’t moving, it was more so squeezing and caressing the base of his thickness while your mouth made him groan. He was veiny.
You allowed him to slip out and your hand took over for your mouth, rubbing and squeezing his tip as your tongue traced the veins.
Jungkook’s hands suddenly pressed against your shoulders to stop you. He was on the verge.
“Don’t make me cum yet.” He said, voice shaky.
You looked up at him, licking your lips and he smirked. His hand pinched your chin, aiming your face up towards him and he leaned down.
His tongue slipped between your lips, kissing you with hunger and greed as he slowly guided you back down, getting on top of you. He hooked your thighs over his hip, lifting your hips up from the bench slightly to meet his height. You winced as his dick brushed up against your inner thigh. Your hand grabbed the headband, pulling it off and throwing it somewhere behind him. You tangled your fingers in his damp hair to keep him in the kiss.
Jungkook reached between you quickly to position himself, spreading your wet lower lips with his aching tip. His hand returned to your hip, and he pushed in. He pushed in with the intention to get in all the way from the start, but you were tight, and he was so big… But he managed anyway. The stretching feeling was mind-blowing, and you both moaned against the kiss as he slowly stretched you deeper and deeper. You couldn’t stay in the kiss, letting out another whimper from the pleasure. He was shaky.
His hand slipped into your hair and his lips pressed against the side of your throat. He kept still briefly, allowing you to adjust and relax around him. Your arms were wrapped around him, hands slipped up under his tank top, pressing against his flexed back.
“You ok, baby?” He whispered, voice husky.
You nodded. He pulled back slightly and thrusted back in, picking up a deep slow pace with his hips.
But it quickly picked up to deep and fast as the greed took over. His hips were pounding against yours, almost as if he was in a rush. He let out a frustrated groan and slipped his hand out of your hair. His arm instead wrapped around your waist, and he picked you up, the other arm under your butt. Jungkook stood up and turned around with you and sat back down on the bench, lying down on it. “It’s easier like this.” He said, panting.
His hands were firmly pressing you down against him and he picked up his thrusts again, with you on top of him. Your face was above his, dark eyes meeting yours with gritted teeth. He looked beyond sexy like this… it was turning you on even more. He grunted, fingertips digging into your skin and his head leaning back.
You licked up the side of his throat and sucked what would become a deep purple hickey…
“You’re leaking all over me.” Jungkook said between breaths.
“Of course I am, I’m being fucked by the hottest guy in this gym.”
He couldn’t hold back the flustered chuckle.
His hand gripped your ass tighter. “Maybe we should pretend like we don’t know each other more often.”
“Shut up.” You ordered and failed to supress a moan.
“There she is.” He grinned. This Jungkook was torture, he knew exactly what that phrase did to you.
He was sweaty, hair was clinging to his forehead, and he was a moaning mess beneath you. His endurance was impressive, but he was coming to an end, both by stamina and his own release.
You were hanging by a thread, his grip was so firm and tight, he was thrusting so deep and hard. It was overwhelming to a point that made you feel high. All your senses were alive at once, the sight of him, the feel of him, the sound and smell…. It was unbearable.
“I know this expression too well to pretend like I don’t.” He teased, but he was right. Your body felt so tense and overwhelmed, toes curling, back unable to arch from his tight hold. A final hard deep thrust was enough to break you, and him. He pushed deeply, releasing in you with a growling grunt. Your muscles released in an explosion of ecstasy, tightly pulsing around him with a loud sharp whimper.
Out of breath, you gazed into each other eyes and he leaned up to kiss you tenderly, hand against your cheek and you momentarily forgot you were at the gym.
Once you regained some more control of your body, you carefully stood up, Jungkook slipping out. You reached for Jungkook’s clothes, handing them to him as he sat up and picked up your own.
“Shall we pick up some takeout on our way home, Baby?” Jungkook asked. “I’m kind of hungry after my workout.” He chuckled, slipping his shorts back on.
“That sounds amazing… should we pretend not to know each other again and hook up in the bathroom?” You said playfully.
“Nah… I want my girlfriend back now.” He pouted cutely and put his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him as you walked towards the exit.
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fineanddandy · 2 years
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A Little Too Late
Summary: Covering a press event for The Gray Man has you recollecting a very drunk night with a certain someone…a night that you both forgot about
Relationship: Chris Evans x black!photog!reader
Warnings: graphic language, mention of alcohol, drunk sex, oral (fem rec), smut, cursing, 18+
A/N: I said I’d write another Evans drabble if Don’t Run met Stay Ready numbers and it did just that and then some. Sheesh. So here is where I went with that said drabble.
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This isn’t part of your job anymore and for good reason. Standing around with some of your fellow cohorts, and some scummy paps, you shade your eyes from the summer sun and wait for the stars to arrive. You didn’t have to stay too long, just snap a few shots of some of the leads walking the carpet and dip. Thank god, because the sun was magnified by a thousand today and you looked way too cute to be melting so early in the afternoon. If you weren’t filling in for the girl who usually covers press, you’d be sitting in your well air conditioned office editing photos for the next editorial spread. But this movie was a huge deal and needed to be covered, so you had to step up.
A few alarming shrills from the fan section of the carpet let’s you know the shows about to begin. Hoisting your camera up some, you step out to see the parade of publicists and actors and staff. Good God the noise. Between the millions of camera shutters, photogs and journalists shouting for interviews and the perfect shots, the girls screaming at their favorite eye candy, your ears were ringing. Just shoot. Maybe slip your headphones on because Jesus, the screams really pick up as someone else walks onto the scene. From behind your tiny viewfinder, you mentally note each star smiling and waving as you bob your head along to Tribe. With Q and Phife, your red carpet experience becomes a little more enjoyable. Less irritating. The volume of the crowd intensifies as this very important someone approaches so you ready your camera. After this guy, you most likely will run back to the office. Point and…great someone’s in the way. Huffing an annoyed sigh, you try to mentally will them out the way. They’re blocking your perfect shot. All you can see is his side profile, his sunglasses and his shaped hair. And after a hundred moves, they finally do and click—but wait…
Your forehead wrinkles, you drop your camera. What—there’s this odd feeling twisting your stomach up in knots. Which isn’t really an odd thing when women see him…but for you, this feeling meant something more. Intimate. But with him? How…? Shit! You should be shooting instead of just staring at him like some idiot. Damn he looks good as fuck today. Perfect lighting the early afternoon sun is making him glow sheesh. Your stomach knots even more. Fuck, what is your intuition trying to tell you about Chris Evans? You’re really trying to figure it out as you watch him do his sauve well rounded guy thing through your lens. Try to focus on the lyrical styles of the Tribe and not the size of his fists in his trouser pockets. The way his tattoos always peak out the collar of all his baby shirts and his chest is always high and thick. Your cheeks are so flushed suddenly, sweating through the cute crop top shirt you’re wearing for the first time. Stomach entirely cramped. Your mind’s running, searching for the answer as to why your body is reacting in such a way. Chris Evans draws even closer, hitting everyone he faces with that cute little smirk and laugh of his and it’s like someone punched you in the back of the head.
A night buried deep, deeeeep into your ‘do not retain ever again’ files hits the back of your eyes. A blurry image of a very drunk sweaty Chris Evans on top of you. Thankfully your camera was strapped across your body. Terror struck every nerve as your camera slips from your trembling fingers. What?! Nooo—no, no how…how could you bury something like that?! A large bead of sweat trails down the side of your face as the night comes flooding back. Of how fucked up you were at this industry party. How fucked up he was checking you out on the dance floor. You almost hit the ground, suddenly shoving people out the way. You need some air.
Using your press credentials you get inside and beeline for the closest bathroom. You’re ripping your camera off, your badge, as you pace the length of the vanity, fanning yourself and freaking the fuck out. Baffled. You can’t believe yourself how could you forget something like that?! There’s still so many black spots but what you remember, fuck! That actually could have happened…what you thought was just some crazy ass dream could have actually happened…?! You fucked Chris Evans. You fucked Chris Evans?! You…fucked…did he remember that? He can’t he was just as fucked up as you so there’s no way. No way. Besides, he’s Chris Evans he doesn’t have to fuckin remember you. Jesus Christ you try to cool off, pat yourself down with paper towels and gather your thoughts. Calm the fuck down.
“Okay. So that…happened.” Your fingers grip the edge of the counter as you sternly talk to your reflection. “That was a while ago,” you don’t know that, “and he probably wrote you off as some random,” you don’t know that either, “that’s fine you’re cool with that…” you’re not of course you’d want him to fuckin remember you you idiot, “You’re at work. You’re a fuckin professional. So get your shit together and get back out there like you’ve never met him before in your life.”
Okay, fine. You’re fine. Touch up your make up, grab your camera and get back to it with the memory of his moans echoing in your ears. Because what’s life without torture. What’s life if it isn’t constantly mocking you…
Coming out the bathroom, you feel okay…considering, and decide you’re just gonna get the hell out of dodge while you still can. There’ll be another event later that you won’t have to cover. You didn’t need to see him again. Let the memory die. Looking for an exit, you’re clear to your right and as soon as you turn your chin to the left, you collide into a fragranced hard body with a smack. Camera strap snaps a loose upon impact and slips off your body to the floor before a pair of blinding white sneakers. Without thinking you fall to your knees, lunging for it,
“Oh fuck!”
“Shit! Sorry! Are you okay?”
Your arm hurts, which is fine, you’re more worried about your baby, flipping it all around to make sure there’s nothing broken or cracked or whatever. You’ve had her forever you don’t want anything to happen to your grandad’s Canon. So far she seems okay. Ripping open your bag, you detach your lens with a soft sigh. Probably should have put your camera away while you were losing your shit back there. Did you hit a fuckin wall damn your arm hurts.
“Yeah, I’m—,” but his voice registers as you shove your camera and lens away. And a new wave of panic stills your sore muscles. “I’m…fine. Whatever.”
You rip the zipper of your bag close, ready to make a run for it. Just keep your head down and maybe he won’t notice you. He doesn’t know you so fuckin be cool, be cool. As long as he doesn’t drop to his feet you’re…
Fuck…you know that hue of sapphire blue from anywhere. How many times have you seen them in your dreams. Chris falls into your line of sight, stealing your breath with a weightless gasp. The moment you guys connect, the startling realization shakes his eyes wide, slightly recoiling Chris sucks in a sharp breath.
“Oh my god.”
Your front door slammed behind you two sloppily tangled stepping out of shoes, tugging at each other’s clothes. Attached at drooling mouths, you drunkenly stumble together, giggling and moaning behind pursed lips as Chris blindly reached out for a stable surface to place you on. Tastebuds numb from all the tequila shots dance back and forth, wiggling and wet you two haven’t been able to stop making out since y’all left the party. You always figured he’d have a nice mouth but damn. Even when it tastes like nothing but bitter hops and agave. It’d been a night, a wild one. Don’t worry about how you got here, just be honored that you even are. His big strong hands felt so amazing grabbing at your waist, tugging your hips harder and harder into his. Chris wanted you bad. He made that quite clear back at the bar.
“God you’re pretty.”
You two drunk asses moaned out in unison, then busted out laughing as Chris picked you up and plopped you down on your kitchen counter, spreading your knees wide apart. Kissing and licking up on your neck, his splayed hands pushed up the skirt of your dress, his antsy fingertips gunned for your damp panties. Inserting himself between your gaped legs, he yanked you closer to grind his hard on against your crotch. You’re so warm everywhere he can’t get enough, burying his into the crook of your neck, squeezing you so tight to his muscular frame.
“Fuck,” you croaked fisting his hair, shoving his mouth even closer, eagerly rolling your hips against his cock, “hey do me a favor…”
Chris faintly whispered, “Yeah baby…” skating his pouty pink lips back up the slope of your throat.
“Get naked.” You whispered back, biting back hungry moan from Chris sucking at your spot. “I wanna see all of you…”
You’re already clawing his shirt up his back as he hummed a little chuckle into the hull of your jaw. “Done.” He unlatched with a flirty smirk, reaching over his shoulder as he backed away. “Want me to do a little dance for you?”
You knew better than to take him seriously but he can do anything as long as he’s taking his clothes off. Sing Diamonds and Pearls again if he wanted, just show you that insane body…but you get a funny little idea. Bouncing on the counter counter you were so excited, eagerly nodding and biting down harder on your bottom lip. “Yeaaah…do a little tap while you take your shirt off…”
And he actually gave it the good ol college try, the goof, showing off a few steps as he pulled his smedium shirt over his head. Dork laugh and all he tripped up a little, tossing the shirt across your place as you drunkenly clapped.
“Woooow, you’re so talented.”
Chris flicked his eyebrows, unbuttoned his pants, hooked his thumbs into the waist of his boxers. “Let me show you what else I can do.”
Your drunk ass almost shrilled an excited giggle once he shoved down his bottoms and his beautiful dick sprung free. Seeing him there, stark naked, and big…everywhere, you can’t help the desperately loud sigh you heaved as you took him in. He’s fuckin breathtaking. Chin held high, staring at you gawking at his rippled muscles, Chris kicked away his pants and proudly sauntered back over to you. Softly placing his hands on your thighs, he lowered his chin and asked,
“Did you like my routine?” Then stole a slow sensual kiss, sucking in your bottom lip with a hushed moan, pinching your shaky muscles as he jerked you to the edge of the counter. He left you wanting more, falling to his knees as he held your sultry gaze.
“You’re an idiot.”
Your cute little giggles turned into an orgasmic moan. His tongue reached as far as it could go between your throbbing walls. Chris relished in your reckless mewls, sucking at your pussy. Sound so damn good he didn’t want to stop but Chris wanted to take his time.
“Don’t distract me…” he mumbled as he stroked his long middle finger over your soaking wet folds, licking up your juices as it dripped out your contracting hole.
You’re going to lose it, shuddering a weak moan. “What happens if I do…” You yanked on his hair and released the sexiest growl/groan you’d ever heard come from a man. A hard shudder cascaded down your spine as you tried not to moan back…pussy wildly throbbing in his awed face. Glaring up at you with a saucy lopsided grin, he ran the pads of his fingers up and down your contracting folds.
“Keep pullin on my fuckin hair like that you’ll see.”
Chris took another long lick between your legs and they shook with delight. You were tempted to find out, running your fingers all through his soft fluffy hair but the way he toyed with your pussy convinced you to behave.
“Mmm…maybe later…” You gasped and fisted his hair, almost pulled away from his lethal mouth. His tongue was back wiggling around inside you, and he moaned when he felt your walls clench. He didn’t want to stop making you do that. You arched your back, tossing your head back as Chris fucked you with both his tongue and his thick fingers. And you rode his chin as you howled his name over and over. He held you open with one heavy hand on your trembling thigh, and held your attention as you climbed higher and higher. Those blue eyes burned in thrill, the corners of his mouth peaked up as if he was smiling. And you couldn’t stop staring, admired the way he ate your pussy.
“Oh my fuck you’re a monster!” You cried, on the edge of breaking, so out of your mind you wound up yanking on his hair again, bucking your hips against his open mouth. Monster…you didn’t even know the half of it yet… “Shit!”
Chris tightly locked his big swole arms around your hips and foolishly you tried to squirm away anyway, gasping for air, messing up his hair. Eyes anxiously wide. There was nowhere you could go, squealing, “oh my god!” as he assaulted your clit with pleased hums. And Chris wouldn’t let go until your cum coated his tingling tastebuds. An absolute beautiful mess down there on his knees, licking and sucking at his fingers and swollen lips. Dick raging hard and sticky between his beefy thighs. A spark flickered behind his glossy baby blue eyes. Never forget the sight of this man on his knees covered in your cum, you told your drunk self. Never.
“Is that it?” You huffed with a breathless chuckle.
Chris frowned as he hovered over you. “Are you being a smartass right now? Really?”
“Just wondering if there’s more to your…talents…”
You nonchalantly shrugged as you both sinfully grinned. Just couldn’t help yourself. Chris rested his forehead against yours and shook his head with a little laugh.
“Plenty more…” he pecked at your top lip, nuzzled the tip of your nose, “hope you don’t have plans later…” Chris whispered caressing your breast over your dress, brushing his lips over yours. Cock nudging at your trembling folds, ready…
“…why?”
“Because you won’t be able to walk straight after I’m done with you…”
Holy shit…Chris can’t believe his eyes, can’t believe you’re sitting before him after that crazy ass night. He really thought he’d never see you again after he slipped out the way he did. As soon as he looked into your brown eyes he knew who you were. You still looked good…a little different than he remembered. Maybe because you’re sober and working and not half naked and sloppy drunk. Still pretty as hell, your eyes still pierce his soul the same. They’re what attracted him to you in the first place. Oh yeah Chris remembered you.
“So you’re a pap?”
His brash accusation sends you reeling. Your eyes narrow. “Wow. How rude of you to assume.” You tut digging around in your pocket for your card, pulling it out to reveal your legit position at a black woman owned media company. “Just filling in for one of my freelancers.”
Reading it over he winces, feeling even more like a jackass for coming at you like that. “Oh shit…I’m sorry…” Finally he gets your name. He doesn’t think y’all even did that much when y’all met. “I shouldn’t have assumed…” Chris rises and takes you by the hand to help you stand, slips your card in his pocket as he stares intently down at you. What could he even say to you after all this time? He felt a little foolish. “Um…I don’t even know…know where to begin…”
You shrug him off. Didn’t want to even go there after bumping into him like this. If this never happened, y’all wouldn’t be having this conversation. “Hey it’s cool man we don’t…”
Chris can’t stop the words from falling from his nervous lips. “It wasn’t because…y’know…like you were bad or…any…thing…”
Another stupid comment that throws you. “Well that I definitely remember so…no fuckin shit.” There was nothing bad that went down between you guys that night. Nothing at all. If anything, if he didn’t have to leave, you would have had woken you up with his fingers on your clit. You uncomfortably adjusted your strap on your shoulder as silence fell between you two awkwardly staring at each other. Everything Chris had to say sounded so dumb but he felt like he should say something. Apologize? Or is it too late for that he doesn’t know he’s never had to deal with this before.
“…and I shouldn’t have left like that. Should have gotten your number or—,”
“You weren’t worried about it then so don’t worry about it now that you’ve randomly bumped into me.” You cut him off. None of that mattered now. Remembering that he left while you still slept had you mad all over again. And that’s why you had buried it away the way you did. Finding him gone like that really fucked with you. Thought he would be better than that.
“Look I can explain.” Chris really wanted to, because it wasn’t like that, why he abruptly up and left wasn’t about you and all about work. But you aren’t trying to hear his excuses, checking your watch like you have somewhere to be. Yeah, anywhere but here looking at him with these glossy puppy dog eyes that must get him out of trouble always.
“I’ve gotta go. Nice to see you again I guess? I don’t know.” You pull your phone out to distract you, to ignore him trying to stop you from turning on your heel and retreating. “Congrats on the movie,” you call back over your shoulder, leaving him there completely speechless, stunned by your actions. Guess he deserved that, but he’s not going to leave it like that between you two.
Burying yourself into your work is easy to do because there’s always a deadline to meet. A shoot to edit. Ever since you ran into Chris you’ve been plagued with memory of that night more than before. If you weren’t swept up in work, a clip would flicker across your mind, and you’d shake it away. You hadn’t even developed that roll of film yet. Too afraid to recollect that jarring sensation all over again. Just glimpses of that outfit sends you shuddering. You do every and anything not to think about him, or that night, but you can’t avoid the inevitable.
There’s a knock at your office door.
“Come in.”
Your assistant pokes her head in with an uneasy smile and you look up from your iPad with an arched brow.
“What’s up why are you being weird.”
She takes a step in, nervously glancing back over her shoulder and your brow sets even deeper.
She whispers over from across the room, “Um…I didn’t know you knew Chris Evans…”
Your stylus pen slips from your fingertips. “I don’t.”
“Well he’s outside saying he knows you.” She motions back to her desk trying not to freak out that he’s here and asking for you. “What do you want me to do? He’s so pretty.”
Fuck you don’t know yourself how did he even find out where you—your card dummy! Scoffing you fall back in your desk chair, astonished that he would show up like this when you thought you made it clear you didn’t want to see him again. But then again, he showed up like this when you thought you’d never see him again…and that’s got to say something right?
“Guess let him in.” You instruct your nervous assistant, sitting your iPad down on your desk as you prepare for him. Straighten up your blouse and tidy up your desk some before your assistant is back knocking on the door, alerting you that he’s actually here. You beckon them to come on in and there he really is, Boston cap and t-shirt, pulling his Ray Bans off to reveal his dazzling blue eyes.
“Good afternoon.” He greets with his big blinding smile, hooking his glasses to the collar of his shirt. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Nope. Looks like I have some time for you. Please.” You motion for him to sit all that big body in front of your desk.
“Surprised to see me?” He asks with a coy smirk, straightening out his shirt as he takes a seat.
“An understatement.” You lean onto the edge of the desk trying to keep an edge about you but his quiet confidence was pulling a little smile at your lips. “Is there a reason that you’re here?”
Chris just smiles at you, skimming his simmering gaze over you behind your desk glaring him down like that. That’s how you were looking at him at that party. Playing hard to get with those eyes but calling him closer with those lips. He hasn’t stopped thinking about you since that press event. He wanted it all over again, wants you and correctly this time.
“Let me take you out. Make up for everything.”
Hmm could be a little too late for that…too much time has passed. Maybe you’re over it? Maybe…
Chuckling to yourself, you fall back into your chair and smile with a small shrug,
“Do a little tap…and I’ll think about it…”
527 notes · View notes
banannabethchase · 8 months
Text
Screamer - also on AO3
~
Nick and Lucha get caught having sex at the venue, and it makes him wonder what Lucha thinks of their arrangement.
~
Schrodinger's prompt fill. Oops. For Sarah's "lyric prompt during my own title search: "'Cause I'm a screamer, baby, make me a mute" (any nickship)." But I did not - I went a weird - this - alright. Well. Have this…thing.
~
Technically, it’s not Nick’s fault.
He relays this observation to Luchasaurus as they pull on their clothes.
“Are you really trying to suggest that you’re not the one who was screaming?”
Nick’s eyes linger on Lucha’s abs as he pulls his shirt on. He says a silent goodbye. “What?”
“You were the one screaming,” Lucha says. He adjusts his hair and mask. “Therefore, it was your fault.”
“Well, you made me scream,” Nick says. He’s antsy and uncomfortable from the interruption, the feeling of getting so close to what he wanted and losing it crawling into his spine. “Maybe next time do a better job of making me be quiet, then.”
Lucha’s grin goes devilish, enticing. Nick’s hard again in a second. “For next time, little bird. You and I both know Stokely is running straight to Tony to tell him he ran into someone fucking in the closet. You don’t want him to have the chance to confirm it’s us, do you?”
The answer is an emphatic no. Matt and Christian are the only ones who know Lucha and Nick are together. Nick thinks Matt alone is the only one to know they’re official.
“Right,” Nick says. “Right, yeah. But I’m still sure it was your fault.”
Lucha walks up to Nick and tilts his chin up. “I would be more cautious where you place blame, sweetheart. Karma will come to get you.”
Nick closes his eyes for a kiss, but it never comes. His eyes open to see an empty room and a wide open door.
~
“That’s why Mox and I only have sex in the hotel,” Matt says, mid yoga move. Nick is trying to figure out how his legs are working, where he’s holding his weight. “Less of a risk.”
Nick glances around to make sure nobody is listening in. “Jesus, be louder, will you?”
“We’re in a gym with millennials and gen z, Nicholas. You point out one person without headphones or ear buds and I’ll quiet down.”
A glance around the room proves Matt, annoyingly, right. Hook’s got his earbuds in as he wails on a heavy bag. Hangman is running at horse speeds on the treadmill, wearing the Boze headphones Nick had bought him for Christmas. Even Skye and Kyle, right next to each other, have their own headphones in as they compete to see who can do the most squats.
“Okay, yeah,” Nick says. “Fine. But now I’m worried Stokely’s going to be on the prowl, you know?”
“The easy solution is to stop fucking your dinosaur boyfriend at work.” Matt folds himself backward and over until he’s bending in a bridge on his toes and hands. “How’s my bridge? Do you think it’s good?”
“Mox’ll fuck you even if you couldn’t stand on one foot,” Nick says. As bendy as he is, his bridges never look like that. He’s suddenly hit with how much time Matt has been spending with the BCC. He’s even invited brought Adam with him once or twice, for reasons Nick hasn’t been willing to ask about. Yet.
“You don’t think Lucha’s the same?” Matt flips over and jumps to his feet, stretching to the sky. “He seems pretty obsessed with you.”
“Hasn’t even invited me to stay in his hotel room,” Nick says. “Maybe he only agreed when I called him my boyfriend because he wasn’t planning on saying it at all.” He deflates, flopping back onto the dirty hotel gym mats. “Maybe that’s why he won’t tell anyone.”
“None of that,” Matt says, and suddenly Nick’s breath is knocked out of him and there’s two hundred pounds of his old brother on top of him, smothering him in a hug. “You’ll figure it out. Don’t freak out.”
“I would love to be able to breathe.”
“I love you too, Nicky.”
“Not what I said.”
~
Nick flips his phone over for what must be the thirtieth time.
“Oh, my god, just text him,” Adam groans.
Nick jumps. “What? Who?”
“Your secret sex buddy,” Adam explains. “Don’t act like you’re surprised. We usually room next to each other.”
“You can hear me?!”
“Yeah,” Adam says. He doesn’t look disgusted, exactly. More confused. “Like, every time. You are loud as hell with whomever that is.”
Nick lets that sink in. His best friend has heard him have sex. Multiple times. Through hotel walls. It’s not a great revelation. “Oh,” he says quietly. “Great. That’s great.”
“Whoever you’re with is quiet as hell, though,” Adam muses. “He’s gotta be the only reason your weird secret relationship thing is working.”
“How do you know it’s a relationship?”
Adam’s eyes go soft, sweet. Knowing. “Because you’re Nick Jackson, and you fall in love with pretty much everyone you meet.”
“I’m not in love with him!” Nick argues. “I – okay, he’s my boyfriend, but, like –”
“You don’t have to explain it to me, Nick,” Adam says, his smile in the corners of his lips. “Just – tonight, try to keep it down. I’m exhausted. And tell your guy I’d love to meet him.” He reaches down and squeezes Nick’s shoulder. “Stay safe, Nicky.”
Nick nods as Adam walks off, more confused than before. His phone, textless, rests in his hands.
~
He fidgets for an hour backstage as the crew sets the ring up. He’s not going after Luchasaurus tonight. Lucha can come find him.
It’s agony.
“Alright.” Kenny sits down in front of Nick. “Talk to me. What’s your deal?”
“I don’t have a deal,” Nick says, adjusting his headset. “As you can see, I’m very busy.”
Kenny sighs. “The green light’s not even on and it’s, like almost an hour from show time.”
Nick shrinks. “Okay, fine, but there’s nothing to talk about.”
“You get dumped or something?” Kenny asks. “Did somebody tell you you’re not the prettiest boy in the universe?” He grins. “Someone say they like Matt more than you?”
“That happened once in 2016 and I made sure it would never happen again,” Nick quips back. “And no. I actually. I have a – a romantic issue?”
“They in a different promotion?” Kenny asks, making himself comfortable. “Bad service or something?”
Nick shakes his head. “No, they’re here.”
“Like, in the building?”
Nick nods.
“Then what are you waiting for!” Kenny exclaims. He leaps to his feet and slings a giant arm under one of Nick’s arms and hauls him to his feet. Like Nick is a rag doll. “Come on, let’s go find him.”
“I – no, I can’t talk to him!”
“Why not?” Kenny asks, yanking Nick along with him, “Is it somebody who speaks Spanish? Japanese? Don’t be racist. I can interpret for you.”
“I am not being racist – what the hell, Kenny?” Nick finally manages to wiggle out of Kenny’s grip. “Also, you don’t speak Spanish!”
“I’ve been practicing my Duolingo,” Kenny replies. “What language do you need to brush up on?”
“Dinosaur is not a language!”
Kenny’s smile goes softer, more calculated, and Nick process what he’s just said. “Oh, I thought that would work on you. So you are sleeping with Luchasaurus.”
Nick blinks. “I – no?”
“Liar,” Kenny says, skipping down the hallway. “What’s the problem? You catch feelings?”
“Not – okay, yes,” Nick says. He has to hustle to catch up with Kenny, still skipping. “But I can’t figure out if he thinks this is as serious as I do.”
“You talk about it?” Kenny asks, pulling open the door to the EVP room. “Contrary to popular opinion, communication is key.”
“Oh, don’t you dare start with that, of all people,” Nick says, rolling his eyes.
Kenny flops down in a chair. “Hey, guys. Did you know Nick is banging Luchasaurus?”
“Yes,” Matt says, yawning.
Adam, on the other hand, is currently dribbling water down the front of his shirt. “That’s ‘Daddy’?!”
Kenny slowly turns to Nick, who can feel himself blushing. “Um.”
“Daddy?” Matt asks, looking horrified as he stares at Adam.
“Look at your brother like that, not me!” Adam says. “Sorry for not enjoying being woken up to people screaming Daddy over and over again.”
Nick wonders how hard it would be to dig a hole in the floor and bury himself.
“Well, that’s a detail,” Matt says, a bit huffy. “Did you mean to tell Kenny, or was that -”
“He tricked me,” Nick says. “He tricked me into telling him.”
“Oh, don’t say it like that, Nicky.” Kenny’s smile is infuriating. “I outsmarted you.”
“That’s not better!”
Kenny shrugs and shuffles so he can get his head in Adam’s lap. “Tell us everything, man. We’re here to help.”
Half an hour later and fifteen from when they’re supposed to be getting ready, Nick’s no more clear on what to do than he was before Kenny says, “So just ask him to take you on a date.”
“I’ve told you,” Nick says. “It’s not like that. We’re – we’re boyfriends, but he doesn’t want to tell anyone, so it doesn’t count.”
“Did you ask him?” Adam asks.
He tits his head. “Ask him what?”
“Did you ask him why he’s not mentioning you to anyone else,” Adam shuffles until he’s sitting up, and Nick catches Kenny’s startled expression. “Or are you freaking out because you’re not communicating.”
“Okay, first off, you’re not allowed to say that because of how little you communicated for years,” Nick fires off. “Second, no. I have not.”
“You could go talk to him,” Matt suggests. He stands, pushing at Nick’s back. “After the match, you’ll talk to him.”
“But –”
“You will talk to him.” Matt’s staring at Nick like he’s trying to bore into Nick’s soul. “Just don’t screw up our match with the BCC, first. I have to prove to Mox we’re better than him. It’s a bet.”
“Noted,” Nick says, rolling his eyes. But he feels better, now that Kenny and Adam know.
The match goes off without a hitch – Adam gets the pin and Nick didn’t break any bones, so it’s pretty much as good as it goes. Mox spends the whole match and aftermath staring at Matt like a wolf stalking a sheep, and Adam and Yuta have a few too many moments that Nick wishes he hadn’t seen.
They stumble backstage, a bit bruised but nothing major.
“I’ll, uh,” Matt says, bright red all over. “I have to – ”
“You don’t have to tell us,” Nick says with a sigh. “Just go have sex with Mox and don’t make me hear it.”
Matt looks like he wants to argue, to say something, but he huffs and stomps off without another word. Adam snorts. Nick decides to ignore that.
“Alright,” Kenny says, patting Nick on the back. “Go talk to your dinosaur.”
Nick looks up to fight, but then Adam and Kenny fold their arms across their chests.
“Don’t look at me like you’re my dads,” he grumbles, but he finds himself walking toward the TNT champion locker room and knocking before he can think better of it.
He knocks, and feels the anxiety build in his chest.
Christian opens the door and rolls his eyes. “Dinosaur! Your little boyfriend’s here.”
Nick shouldn’t feel all fuzzy at that, but he does. It’s the first time anyone but him has said it.
Christian shoulders past him and Nick stumbles just a little bit, righting himself just in time for Luchasaurus to step to the door.
“Hi, there, little bird,” Lucha says. He plants his hands on Nick’s waist and pulls him in, kissing him so intentionally Nick’s brain goes a bit fireworky.
“I – wait,” Nick says. “I want to talk.”
He didn’t think he could see another person’s face fall so completely. “Oh,” Luchasaurus says. He drops his hands from Nick’s waist. “Yes.”
“Yes?” Nick asks. “Yes what?”
Lucha shrugs. “I knew you would reconsider one day.”
“Reconsider?” Nick says. “What would I reconsider?”
Luchasaurus guides them to the little couch in the room and sits them down. “Our arrangement.” He’s strangely controlled, careful.
Nick tries to piece together the words, the context, something to make it make sense. “What about our arrangement?”
“About how this is a fling for you.”
Nick doesn’t miss the clarifier – for you. It takes a second, but, slowly, the realization sinks in. “You think I consider this a fling?”
Luchasaurus shrugs. “You’ve thrown the word boyfriend around, but only in the heat of the moment.”
“Heat of the – you thought I asked you to be my boyfriend in a horny fugue state?” Nick’s baffled. He’s baffled and delighted and spinning. “No, I asked you because I want you to be my boyfriend!”
Luchasaurus blinks behind the mask, then steps to the door and locks it. “You’re saying you’d be interested in a real relationship?”
“I thought we already in one.” Nick fiddles with his fingertips, feeling like his skin doesn’t fit right. “Just – one that you didn’t want to talk about.”
Luchasaurus pulls his mask off, and Nick has to adjust to it. His face is soft, free of paint. He looks more human than Nick’s ever seen him. “Nicholas,” he says gently, making his way to sit on the couch. “I would cry your name from the rooftops if I thought you wanted me to.”
Nick can’t help it. He dives in and kisses Luchasaurus, unable to put into words what he wants. Lucha seems to get it though. He wraps his arms around Nick and holds him tight, like he’s scared to let go.
He pulls back first, leaving Nick’s head spinning. “Little bird, are you sure about this?”
“Am I – of course I’m sure!” Nick exclaims. “Lucha, the first night we had sex I had to call Matt freaking out because I knew I had fall – I knew I liked you too much.” He pauses. “The only time this was a fling was before we kissed.”
Lucha pulls him back down for a kiss, this one quicker, and pulls away. “Does this mean we’re telling people?” He brushes Nick’s hair over his shoulder. “Are we – official?”
“We’re official,” Nick says. “I – I want to – I want to go to HR and fill out stupid paperwork and ask you to get me soda from the fridge when we hang out.”
Lucha nods, a smile spreading across his face. His features without the mask are so much softer, sweeter. Nick shivers, thinking about how this version of Luchasaurus is all his. They don’t have the time for anything – Lucha’s got a title match at the top of the hour and Nick won’t be the one to make him late – so Nick leaves with a lingering kiss as he goes back to gorilla, floating.
“You look happy,” Matt says, adjusting something. A call sheet, probably. “You finally talk to your boyfriend?”
Nick nods. “I’m gonna watch him for Rampage. We’re – it’s for real now.” He has to control his breath to make sure he doesn’t get overexcited, doesn’t hyperventilate. “We’re boyfriends.”
Matt sets down his papers silently. Before Nick can do anything, Matt’s wrapped him in a giant, bone crushing hug. “I’m so happy for you, Nick,” he mumbles into Nick’s neck. “Also, now you can stop calling me in the middle of the night. I can sleep!”
“It would be great if you could be not a bitch for, like, five seconds.”
Matt pulls back, smiling. “Impossible.”
Luchasaurus wins his match, obviously, and Nick watches from the side of the stage as closely as he can. They’re official, sure. But he’d rather be the one to tell the press than for somebody to catch him staring and put the puzzle pieces together on their own.
He’s nearly vibrating as he meets Luchasaurus backstage. “You did great,” he says, breathless. “You did amazing.”
Lucha leans down and kisses him on the top of the head. In front of Tony. In front of Doc. In front of Matt, Kenny, crew members. Despite how innocent it is, it almost feels illicit.
Then he leans down and presses his lips to Nick’s, so gently it feels like a habit. “I’ll see you later at our hotel room.”
Nick nods as Lucha walks off.
“Dude,” Kenny says. “Dude, he loves you.”
Nick beams. “I think he does.”
~
He doesn’t realize until he gets back to the hotel that Luchasaurus meant ‘our’ literally – he’s left a request at the front desk to close out his own hotel room in favor of staying with Nick.
“Sure, he can have a key,” Nick says, eyes flicking over to Lucha. He’s not smiling, exactly, but his expression is mild. Nick thinks he likes Lucha best without the mask, somehow.
“Wonderful,” the desk clerk says, clicking some keys on her computer. “We have to check, of course. Never want to give a requested key to a person with ulterior motives.” She looks up and catches her eye on Lucha’s tattoos, his braids.
Nick fights the urge to say that he likes Lucha’s ulterior motives, and instead takes Lucha’s hand as they go from elevator to the hallway to the door.
“I need to go collect my things from my other room,” Lucha says, lips right by Nick’s ear. “I expect you naked and ready for me by the time I return.”
Nick’s response is a high pitched whine, and he’s suddenly incredibly glad he’d showered before leaving the venue.
He sprints into the bedroom and rips his clothes off, throwing himself down on the bed. The anticipation feels like another layer of clothing he can’t peel off, so he grabs the lube off the bedside and gets started.
He’s two fingers deep inside of himself when the door swings open.
“Nicholas,” Luchasaurus says. “I hope you’ve followed instructions.”
“I – oh – I have,” Nick says back. “Come see.”
Luchasaurus turns on the light. Nick hopes he looks good, spread out on the bed fucking himself on his own fingers. The way Luchasaurus licks his lips and pulls off his own shirt makes him think he does.
“God, you’re such a pretty thing, aren’t you?” Lucha dives onto the bed. Nick begrudgingly pulls his fingers out, leaving himself empty, but it’s worth it when Luchasaurus kisses Nick hard enough to make his head spin.  When he pulls away, his eyes are burning hot into Nick’s. “I need you.”
Nick nods, hands scrambling to the bedside table. He pauses as he closes around the condom packet. “Do we – it’s been no one but you for months,” Nick says. “Only you.”
Lucha’s face turns sunshine sweet. “Only you as well, little bird.” He takes the condom and sets it on the bedside table. “I look forward to feeling all of you.”
Nick nods. “I’m ready. I opened myself up for you, like you said.”
“I want you to know I meant naked,” Lucha says with a low chuckle. “My, my, aren’t you an obedient little thing.” He leans down, sucks a mark into Nick’s neck that has him arching into it.
“Yours,” Nick gasps. “Yours.”
“Mine,” Lucha agrees. He gently pushes Nick’s thighs apart and slides his hand to Nick’s hole, finding him open and, god, just one finger is good but not good enough. “So good for me.”
Nick wiggles his hips. “I’m ready, all of you,” he pleads. “Fuck me.”
“I will, baby,” Luchasaurus says. He arranges Nick’s legs, and guides himself inside of Nick. “God, you always feel so good.”
Nick nods, head spinning. “You too,” he mumbles. “I – please.”
“Can’t be too loud, though,” Lucha muses, the drag of his cock out cruelly slow. “Don’t want to wake your friends.”
“Screw it,” Nick says. “Make me scream. I don’t care.”
“Be careful what you ask for. You just might get it.”
Get it he does. Lucha fucks him so hard he has to brace his hands on the headboard, careful to keep his fingers away from the wall as the headboard slams into the wall. He cries Lucha’s name, Daddy, and even once baby, which surprises even himself. Lucha kisses him so long at that Nick’s head spins in need of oxygen, but he doesn’t care. He wants and needs and makes all the noise he wants, because this is his. It doesn’t matter who knows. It doesn’t matter if they hear him saying Lucha’s name, or if they hear Lucha saying his.
This is real.
He comes with a final scream of, “Daddy, yes!” and feels Luchasaurus fill him up not to long after. It feels like a mark, a brand, a claim, like this is real. Like this means they’re going to last.
Lucha half collapses on top of Nick with a hard exhale, arms bracketing Nick’s head. “Calling you my boyfriend is quite the change,” he says. He winds some of Nick’s hair around his fingertips, eyes glancing from Nick’s lips to his eyes. “I can’t wait to tell everyone.”
“We’ll do it tomorrow,” Nick says, trailing his finger up and down Lucha’s chest. Lucha rolls to the side.  “First thing. But, tonight, let’s just rest.”
“Of course.” Luchasaurus kisses the top of his forehead.
Nick’s cozy and comfortable. He’s trying to convince himself to go clean up in the bathroom when there’s a banging on the wall.
“Are you guys done?!” Adam shouts through the wall. Lucha’s eyes go wide as he meets Nick’s. “Because I’d really like to sleep.”
“We’re good,” Nick yells back.
“Congratulations, by the way,” Adam yells back. “Hi, Luchasaurus.”
“Hi, Hangman.”
Nick dissolves into giggles. “Oops.”
“You sing a little too loudly, little bird,” Lucha chuckles, and they laugh into each other’s skin.
~
Mini Playlist: Claws - Kim Petras Lock Me Up - The Cab I Could Get Used to This - The Veronicas Flesh - Simon Curtis
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Dreamers — Eddie Munson
eddie munson masterlist
summary: after returning from the upsidedown and almost dying to do so, eddie needs to tell you how he feels
a/n: i don’t know what this is, i just know it’s not good. but it’s written so might as well put it out lmao
content: mentions of eddie’s near death, fluff, gender neutral reader, reader has a sibling, uh acquaintances to lovers (if that’s a trope)
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“Y/N Y/L/N!” You didn’t notice the shout from behind you, too entranced by your Walkman to hear. You just kept walking on your normal route home. But you didn’t make it far before a soft tap on your shoulder and an even softer “Hey” brought you back to reality. It was, however, not a very soft transition, the sudden touch causing you to jump away and pull your headphones off,
“Holy fucking shit,” your eyes moved up from their gaze on the sidewalk to see who your “attacker” was and let out a sigh of relief, “Munson. Jesus fucking Christ, you scared the shit out of me. Do not sneak up on people when they’re walking alone.” He took a small step back from you and scratched at the back of his neck as he avoided your eyes,
“Yeah, that was an oversight on my part. But, to be fair, I did shout your name a bunch. It’s not my fault you weren’t listening.”
You sighed and looked him over, noticing the slight heave of his chest that he tried to steady and the small beads of sweat pricking at his nose. It was summer, but Eddie refused to wear anything besides a t-shirt, long jeans, and at least one jacket. It also probably didn’t help that running was never really his thing. And he just got out of the hospital.
“Sorry.” He scoffed,
“Nothing to be sorry about, babes. It’s good you carry your music with you. You know, to stay safe.”
“Uh-no. No, I don’t know. If anything you just proved my parents right, it makes me vulnerable to kidnappings.”
They especially were worried about you being kidnapped by Eddie. While he might’ve technically been cleared by the police, murder accusations tend to linger. Especially when devil-talk was used to fear monger the overwhelmingly Christian town of Hawkins Indiana.
But you knew Eddie. Not well, but you knew he was just another kid like you, someone who dreaded school and never really fit in. He was no murderer, no kidnapper, just a bit eccentric at most.
“Right.” He felt like an idiot. Of course you didn’t know music was the only thing that could save you from a Vecna attack. You didn’t even know who Vecna was. He wasn’t even sure he knew who Vecna — Harry? 001? — was outside of his D&D campaign. “I’m not trying to kidnap you.”
Oh how he wished he could hit his head into the pavement. But, he was pretty sure that would just make everything worse.
“I appreciate that.” It wasn’t the most reassuring sentence, but it calmed his nerves nonetheless. He hasn’t seen you since before the whole Vecna mess and had no clue what you’d think of him now. You were always friendly with him before but a nagging voice in his head told him that it was more out of pity than anything else. “Is there… something you wanted?” His eyes widened and he stood up straighter,
“Yeah! Yeah, there is.”
Steve’s voice rang out in his mind, Just tell them. Worst thing that could happen is that they don’t feel the same. Eddie argued with that, because that was the worst thing that could happen to Steve The Hair Harrington, not Eddie The Freak Munson. What could happen is that you laugh in his face, sneer at him, accuse him of trying to persuade to join a cult. Besides, Steve was pretty used to rejection at this point. Eddie never told anyone that he likes them.
But he almost died. He almost died knowing that he never even tried to tell you how he felt. And you deserved to know that someone loved you as strongly as he did because this godforsaken school couldn’t see what was special about you. You were never really there, always consumed by music or a book, a lot of the times, both. He didn’t think you heard what they called you. A nerd who didn’t have a life, someone who couldn’t make friends, an antisocial loser. But one day while you were sitting at the edge of Hellfire’s lunch table, far from the group and head in a book, some asshole walked past and scoffed at the sight of you,
“Can’t even make friends with the freaks.”
He saw your body lightly shake, thinking that you were about to cry but instead you lifted your head, watching the person walk away and laughing. Someone just insulted you yet you laughed at them. You were laughing to yourself and it was one of the best things Eddie’s ever heard. If only Henderson could’ve shut up for a second so he could hear better.
Yeah, you were something special. A dreamer, Eddie thought. Eddie was too, just in a different way. He constantly dreamt about leaving this town and getting as far away as possible. But your dreams were already taking you away. Sure, you were here, but mentally you were in whatever world you wanted.
You deserved to know these things. And what he considered a selfish part of him also just wanted to get it off his chest, maybe even hear that you felt the same way.
“What is it?”
“I, uh, I wanted to tell you that…” You’ve never seen him for a loss of words. You placed a hand on his shoulder and caught his eyes with yours,
“Hey, it’s okay. If you don’t wanna say it, don’t feel pressured t—”
“I really like you,” he blurted it out, immediately feeling much better. It didn’t matter what happened next anymore, he got to say it. You blinked a few times, questioning your ears before you asked,
“Say that again? Didn’t quite catch it.”
Okay, so maybe it did matter what happened next.
Somehow any confidence evaporated from his body.
“Can you help me?” You knew that wasn’t it. He drastically changed his sentence. You didn’t doubt yourself any longer. You knew what he said. “I want to tell you about my planned D&D campaign, see what you think. You seem like you’d be really good with that,” his eyes flickered to your school bag, knowing that it held at least two fiction books in there, one just incase you finished the first. You smiled,
“Yeah. I’d love too. It’s pretty cool, you know. Being Dungeon Master. You’re like an author of your own chose your adventure story.”
He nodded, not sure what to say to that. You pulled a pen out from your bag, taking his hand into yours and looking to his eyes. He gave you another nod, a smaller one this time. You wrote your number on the back of his hand,
“It’s normally busy after school — my sibling’s got too many friends to count — but try whenever.” When you let go, he looked at his hand, immediately skipping over the seven digits to the words written underneath. I really like you.
Those words were seemingly weaved into his soul now.
Now it was your turn to be shy, not even waiting to cap your own before staring to walk backwards,
“Talk to you later.” He nodded, only looking up to catch you right before turning around,
“Yeah, later.”
Soon, his dreams would change. And they’d come true too, a future full of rock and tours and you, by his side with matching tattoos of “I really like you,” his almost exactly like it was in pen and yours with a wonderfully sharp scrawl.
———
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fizzingwizard · 9 months
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Funny little thought.
From the time I was six till I was about fifteen, my family was entrenched in evangelicalism. From age 10, I started going to the school at my church, which meant I was inundated with religion six out of seven days a week. Only Saturday was free of it. And some days I would get religious lessons at school, go home, then go back to church, which was the school, for evening youth group and stuff. Looking back it just feels like a lot, but.
Somehow I still wiggled out of that mindset and I think a lot of my peers did too, tbh. After all, church is where I learned what different sex acts were and about homosexuality. Not from people saying how evil they were - of course there were plenty of adults doing that, but the kids were all totally unconcerned and eager to shock other kids with what they knew hahaha.
Anyway, there's lots I could talk about, but what I was thinking about today was pretty innocent effect of being required to think of religion and only religion as a valuable pursuit for such a big chunk of childhood. It was about music. I was allowed to read and watch anything that was age appropriate, regardless of whether it was "Christian" enough. My parents would have objected if there had been sex or homosexuality (or rather if they'd known there was those things >_>;), but for the most part it wasn't hard to keep those things private.
Music was different because I played it in my room. On a stereo. Without headphones x'D I did have an mp3 player which I took with my on walks, but the things I liked to dance in my room. Not conducive to wearing headphones. So I would blast music pretty much constantly when I was home. And my options for acceptable music were pretty much: secular music my parents had grown up with and couldn't see anything unacceptable in it, or Christian Contemporary Music (CCM).
Well, I didn't hate my parents' favorite bands, but they weren't very now. So my favorite musicians were artists no one but my best friend had ever heard of. He and I would belt their songs whenever we felt like it, so just imagine two nerdy kids biking up and down the road screeching "JESUS IS THE WAY THE TRUTH THE LIGHT" off-key because we keep going in and out of each other's ear shot xP
These were some of my favorite artists:
Point of Grace
Third Day
Avalon
Rachael Lampa
Casting Crowns
MercyMe
Skillet
Steven Curtis Chapman
ZoeGirl
Rebecca St James
Mark Schultz
V*enna
And so many more that I've forgotten. And I loved them whole-heartedly. I just went through the wikis for some early 2000s WOW Music CDs and literally my heart clenched with nostalgia seeing some of the song titles and artist names that I haven't thought about in so long. It brought back an era of my life that I feel so out of touch with now. It's not that I miss it exactly, but I suppose I miss that naivete and security I had at that age, which was mostly due to being a kid with a pretty decent childhood. It's similar nostalgia that I feel when I think back on high school, or non-school memories before that.
Music gets so wrapped up with memory that no matter what, I can't dislike these CCM artists. Nor can I forget about them. I still listen to a few favorites, especially songs by Point of Grace, which seems like such a weird group to become the favorite of a 10 year old, but me and my best friend were obsessed, like obsessed with them at that age. Bought ever album and knew all the words.
When I listen to those CCM songs now, as an adult, a lot of them don't hold up. We used to get told that "Christian content usually falls short when it's literature or movies, but music is equal to secular stuff." I don't think that's 100% wrong, but it's certainly not as clear a success story as we were told it was. My main beef is with the female artists, many of whom just leaned in so much on purity and abstinence, even while some of them pandered a lot to secular audiences. But it's not just the themes but the lyrics and music itself. V*enna, which as far as I know had only one CD, is just some of the worst music. I liked their album as a kid, but when I listened to it a while back I was just cringing. Really amateurish, so no wonder it didn't go far.
But there's a lot of fun to be had with CCM too, like Audio Adrenaline's rock cover of Little Drummer Boy which still splits my ear drums while making me ask "Why?" And there's the nonsensical conundrum of groups like Skillet or Creed, which some fans who only knew their secular stuff are stunned to learn they were included in Christian music stores. Or Jump5, a tween bobby group which sang about God, made money by putting tracks in Disney movies, and overall existed to make money.
Speaking of money. When I was fourteen, our youth group decided to start a band and I was a vocalist. The band only had one performance. You know why? The pastor at my church LEAPT on the idea because he thought we would get famous and... make lots of money for the church...?? Honestly, we were VERY amateurish, the lead singer I think was decent but very much did not want to be in the band long term, the musicians were so-so, and I was definitely so-so. But the pastor got involved and pressed us to be amazing and to have an amazing band name which I can't remember anymore and well we just flopped. None of us were into the idea but him. If he hadn't gotten dollar signs in his eyes we might've had a bit of fun, which was the only intention. But this was a pastor who was bent on his plan to make the church a mega-church and becime famous for his Idk pastor skills or whatever.
Back to music. So I do still love those artists from my childhood, regardless of how good they are objectively. But I got to wondering, what kind of music would I have been a fan of at that age (early teens) if I hadn't felt like secular stuff was off limits? I did somehow become a fan of Avril Lavigne and I am not even sure how that happened. One year my dad bought me Hilary Duff's first CD, which told me that he had no idea what my music tastes were or that we didn't even pay for the channel her shows were on so I didn't know who she was :P (But I appreciated the effort at bonding lol) That's much cleaner than Avril, at least.
Aside from Avril, I think I probably would have been a My Chemical Romance girl. Honestly, I probably would've been annoying into them if I found them at the right age. But I never heard "Helena" until this year. Fall Out Boy maybe, Green Day? Snow Patrol, Pink, Bjork, Nightwish are some groups I became fans of later, once I was out of the church. Best friend introduced me to Vienna Teng and Tori Amos. I like rock and metal now, but as a teen I didn't much, and I'm trying to think what was popular when I was in high school. I would go to the movies and not recognize any of the songs in them haha.
I just had the funny thought that I could have been so different as a teenager if I'd listened to different music... I bet I'd have been more emo or something lol. Idk, the groups that pop into my mind seem emo.
super nostalgia now whoa
/conversation with teenage fizz haha
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headcannonxgalore · 1 year
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☾☾☾Hello! Hope you enjoy what you’re about to read, I would appreciate if you like, and reblog my work here on tumblr. Please do not share my work anywhere else, and if you see it has been, or someone is claiming the work as their own please tell me. My master list is pinned to my page if you wish to see more! ☽☽☽
Parings: Matt Murdock x Black!oc
Genre: Dark, Drama, action
Word count: 4k
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Chapter 2- Matt Murdock
My alarm woke me up at 6am, I set it to snooze, and I rolled over to go back to sleep. The phone alarm blasted again at 6:15, and again at 6:20. At that point I just got up, and started my day. I blasted my morning playlist to somewhat help me keep track of time, as I stood in the shower, I thought of what I should wear. I googled Matt Murdock last night, and apparently he has quite the reputation in the small communities.
I decided to go for a quiet business casual style, not too much, but still cute. I pull off my bonnet, then untie my headscarf, and I start to comb my hair out of its wrap. I apply light makeup, a thin layer of lip gloss, and mascara. Then I load up my bag with all my essentials: laptop, phone, taser, small pack of baby wipes, and some gum. I grab my iced coffee, and double check everything before I leave out. I turn to lock the door to the apartment. The sound of shuffling footsteps approaching catches my attention, looking up I see—the resident junkie—Malcolm stumbling down the hallway.
He looked a mess as usual, I feel bad, but there really isn’t any way to help him. He doesn’t notice me standing there as he barely makes it to his apartment door, he fumbles with his keys for a moment. I was about to turn to help when Jessica suddenly snatches his apartment door open from the inside. Initially I was confused, but that quickly turns to shock when she grabs onto the junkie by his jacket collar. My phone buzzes, when I look down I’m reminded that it’s now 7:40am, and that if I keep standing here being nosy I might be late for work. I quickly turn to get on the elevator, as the doors close, I see Jessica holding up some printouts of pictures to Malcolm’s face questioning him.
I shook my head trying to clear my thoughts, I threw on my headphones, then hit shuffle on my music. The sidewalks are riddled with people, most of them in a rush, but I weave my way through them with ease. By the time I made it to the building it’s 8:28am. As I stand to wait for the elevator, I bop a little to my music. I haven’t listened to gospel since I left home, but when Lauryn Hill started her soft melody in my ear, I was compelled to join.
“You have a lovely voice.” Someone said from beside me, I squeaked a little, nearly jumping out of my clothes. The man chuckled lightly, a smile creeping onto his face, I recognized him when I turned to the right. My eyes landed on his walking cane as he held onto it firmly, a breif case underneath his arm, and his tie half way up his button up.
“Jesus you scared me, thank you though. You’re going up?” I asked as if I didn’t know, he smiled nodding his head, I can somewhat see his eyes through his red shades. He wasn’t directly looking at me, but he wasn’t off by much, which was a bit creepy.
“I’m Matt Murdock by the way, are you the new assistant Foggy hired?” He stuck out his hand for me to shake, I took his larger hand in mine. He was gentle with me, and I couldn’t help but grin a bit. Matt is kind of cute, then I remember he’s my boss which makes me sober up some. Our hands lightly caressed each other as I let go of him, I nodded my head in response giggling a little. My heart was pounding, and all I wanted to do was run all the way back home.
“Yea, I’m Andrea, I met Foggy on the train yesterday.” I said, the elevator came to a halt, as the doors slowly creek open Matt steps off first.
“First day jitters?” He asked, to my surprise he’s right, but I can’t tell what gave me away.
“How can you tell?” I asked, and we came to a pause at the office door in the apartment building.
“I can just tell, call it intuition.” Only the left corner of Matt’s mouth turned upward giving me a half smile. That felt like an inside joke to himself, so I just let him have it. He opened the door to the office, and let me in first this time, stepping aside to make room for me. I could have sworn I heard him sniff me, I wonder if my perfume bothers him, but if he doesn’t say anything neither will I.
“Oh hey Andrea! See you met Matt, did he flirt with you on the way up here?” Foggy jokes, he pops his head out from one of the office rooms, I press my lips together trying to hold back my blush. Matt scoffs lightly, a slightly embarrassed expression on his face, he goes to sit his briefcase down in the other room.
“I don’t flirt with every woman I see Fog, thanks for that.” Matt says sarcastically.
“Yea only the pretty ones, anyway, glad you made it on time. It might be slow for a while since we swept through the majority of the cases here in Hell’s Kitchen.” Foggy fully steps out of his office, and comes to sit in one of the chairs in the middle of what looks to be the living room.
“And since Daredevil put everyone behind bars.” I mentioned, I remember hearing a lot about him during my time at Julliard.
“Mmhm, he’s something…” Matt mumbled, he turned with a hot cup of coffee in his hand. Foggy doesn’t say anything, the room falls silent, and I feel like maybe I hit a sore topic.
“Do you guys not like him? I mean I know he’s a vigilante, but I think he’s great. The cops can only do so much, and obviously a lot of them were in with the bad guys. Actually he’s kind of hot if I’m being honest.” I say trying to be transparent, if I was going to be the only woman here, I should get comfortable.
Matt chokes on his coffee, Foggy cracks up a bit, I look at them both, I shrug my shoulders.
“So you’re a fan huh?” Foggy asked, Matt turned his head in his friend's direction, his lips pressed together.
“I guess I am, I think it’s pretty amazing taking justice into his own hands. I feel bad when the police gives him such a hard time, I have this dumb joke with my friends. Whenever someone has done us dirty, we ask what would the devil do?” I chuckle lightly, Foggy’s eyebrows raised, I paused for a second.
“Too much?” I asked, Matt just sipped his coffee, and Foggy cringed a bit.
“A little bit, but it’s fine. So, you’re gonna be sharing an office with Matt, is that cool? That’s been the original setup since our last assistant.” Foggy says, a small smile on his lips.
“Cool with me.” I grin brightly, Foggy nods his head leading the way to the other office. I sit my things down getting comfortable, and I try to think of where to put my MacBook.
“Oh yea let me get that out of your way, I’ve been meaning to throw this Dinosaur out.” Foggy kindly picks up the old monitor, and takes it out of the room. He comes back briefly to pick up the keyboard, and mouse. I smile at him, and thank him for clearing my side of the desk for me. As I get my computer started I take a sip of my coffee, just then Matt walks in, a grin on his face.
“Iced coffee?” He asked, I just knew he was gonna tease me for that.
“I’m a bit impatient, I need my caffeine to be ingested the second it hits my cup.” I say, Matt lets out a laugh as he takes a seat across from me.
“Well that intense, I can’t say the same. Some things are meant to be enjoyed slowly.” Matt said, his voice a bit softer, and the way his head is angled it’s hard for me to tell where his eyes are looking.
“Hm, I can agree on that.” I spoke, I wasn’t really sure where to take the conversation from there.
“Do you have any questions?” Matt asked. I opened my mouth to speak, and he lifted his eyebrows waiting for me to talk.
“Is my perfume too much?” I blurted out.
“No I think it’s lovely, I mean the scent is a bit loud for me but that’s not a bad thing. It’s not your fault.” Matt said thoughtfully
“Okay, and how did you know I was drinking iced coffee?” I asked, which felt like a dumb question.
“I could smell it, you like a lot of creamer hm? Me too.” Matt said smiling.
“Um.” I said dumbfounded, it’s not like I’ve come across that many blind, or deaf people. I didn’t want to say anything stupid.
“It’s okay, most people are shocked by others who have heightened sentences.” Matt informed me, that made me feel a little better.
“Can you read minds?” I joke, Matt chuckles a bit, but shakes his head.
“Ah, I wish. I can shoot webs though.” Matt says, I was a bit shocked. Like the doofus I am, I fell for it.
I gasped dramaticly, “really?”
“Of course not. Why would I be able to do that, that makes no sense.” Matt laughed deeply at the sound of me sucking my teeth in disappointment.
“Wow you suck, why would you lie to me like that?” I wiped away a fake tear from my cheek.
Foggy pokes his head in, a smile on his face.
“Sorry to ruin the fun, but we’ve got people lining up outside the office. They all look to be returning from last week, so Andrea you won’t have to do too much right now. All I need is for you to file the paperwork after we’re done, and keep up that wonderful humor.” Foggy says. Matt takes his suit jacket off, and rolls up his sleeves. I chuckle a bit at his complement, he gives me a thumbs up, and leaves.
“Time to make donuts.” Matt smiled, and I couldn’t help but laugh at that out loud. I sighed and went back to my computer, a moment later Matt had came back in and sat some files on my desk. Sometimes Foggy would pop in to check on me, and that’s how most of the morning went. By the time 2 pm rolled around, things slowed significantly, and I was finally able to take a break.
“So who wants treats?” I asked whipping some sweat off my forehead, the sun had been shinning in my office all morning.
“You’re going down to the store?” Matt slightly turned his head in my direction, the morning heat had really swept through the office. His top four buttons were undone, his tie is off, and his sleeves are rolled up.
“Yes, how else are we gonna get treats?” I asked.
“I’ll go, it’s a special beer I like to drink, and I don’t wanna send you through the trouble.” Foggy said. He stood in front of the freezer door letting the ice cold air blow on him. He too looked disheveled, his button up untucked, and his sleeves rolled up as well. This is how I met Foggy, looking like a mess.
“Oh, well okay then, I’ll take some gummy worms.” I requested, Foggy nodded his head making note of what I asked for.
“I’m good thanks, I was gonna order Chinese for dinner, so don’t load up too much.” Matt shouts in Foggy’s direction. He throws a hand up in repose to which I giggle because it’s clear Matt didn’t see that.
“So where are you from again?” I came and took a seat next to him. His head turned in my direction, and I could now see his eyes through his shades again. Eerie how spot on he is, but I ignore it looking down at my hands.
“Detroit, in a way New York reminds me of home…just way more crowded.” I joke, there is actually a stark contrast between New York, and Michigan.
“Ah, how was your adjustment?”
“Well, when I found out y’all didn’t have no Coney Islands’, I was devastated.” I fake cried a little, Matt tilted his head confused.
“Did you say Coney Island…like the theme park?” Matt’s head tilted in confusion; I cracked up laughing harder than I should have. He looked a bit shocked by my sudden outburst of laughter.
“No, the fast food chain, we have them literally all over the state just about, but there’s hundreds of them in the city. It’s like diner food.” I explained kindly, he nodded his head and chuckled a little.
“I’ve never heard of that ever, that’s interesting. What made you move all the way here? For college right?” He asked, I assumed Foggy must have filled him in a bit before I showed up.
“Yea, I went to Julliard, made it in with Parsons Dance Company, and it was great. Then I fucked up my knee, and toes one too many times.” I hung my head a bit, I still haven’t emotionally recovered from that, it’s hard to deal with broken dreams.
“Wow that’s amazing though, not everyone gets into Julliard, and gets into a top tier company. Just be proud of that, sometimes one dream ends, so that another can begin.” Matt spoke quietly, he hummed a bit in content.
“Yea I guess you’re right, but boy did I love the stage. I used to sing in choir too, so that’s how I would get my fix of performing.” I chuckled thinking of those Sunday mornings I’d have to stand in that thick hot robe.
“Are you religious?” He asked me, that seemed to have peaked his curiosity a bit as he sat up more.
“Uh, I used to be in church quite a lot when I was in high school, but I didn’t really like going to church after a point in time. I really only went to satisfy my parents. Then when I came here, I kinda just forgot about it, and New York is flooded with Catholic Churches.” I huff leaning back in my seat.
“What’s wrong with that?” Matt quirked his eyebrow.
“Well I was Baptist, and I don’t know about singing anything other than gospel.” I said, my parents' faces flashing at the back of my mind.
“I’m sure Father Scott will be more than happy with new members, you should swing by Clinton Church on Park Avenue between 21st, and 22nd street. Tell him Matt sent you.” His lips turned up into a warm smile, then he said something that shocked me.
“You’re very beautiful Andrea, don’t forget that.” Matt says, his eyes almost looking right into mine.
“How– how do you know that?” I asked, he had no idea how his genuineness is affecting me right now. Dancing, and performing puts so much pressure on how you feel about yourself. Sometimes hearing a real compliment means the world.
“I can see somewhat, more like dim shadows, but I don’t need to actually see your face. I like your personality, you’re kind hearted, and sweet.” Matt spoke softly, tears started brim my bottom eyelids. I sniffled a bit, as I played with my fingers in my lap.
“Of course Foggy told me what you looked like, he couldn’t keep it to himself to save his life.” Matt confessed, I laughed not expecting Matt to be so honest. By the time Foggy came back with the snacks a few more clients stopped by. Most of them were dropping off thank you desserts, and dinners. I stored all the food in the freezer, and in the refrigerator in the office to keep them cold. By the time 7:47 pm rolled around Matt did order Chinese food for all of us, which I was grateful for because I was starving.
“So how do you like the job so far?” Foggy asked, he stuffed some fried rice in his mouth.
“Ya know…not as bad as I thought. I mean this is the first time I’ve ever gotten paid in pie, which is probably the most interesting thing I’ve experienced while working a job.” I said jokingly, but it was the truth, I really like working with both of them. They’re both easy going types of guys, and I was a bit worried at first.
“Love to hear it, by the way, I know it’s been a bit hot in here. I’m working on getting an Ac soon so hopefully we won’t have to suffer for much longer.” Foggy informed us, Matt nodded his head, he seemed to be deep in thought.
“Oh thank god, I’d hate to have to get naked.” I said wiggling my eyebrows suggestively, Foggy nearly died choking on his fried rice. Matt laughs so hard he starts wheezing, he’s trying to stop laughing long enough to swallow his food.
“Alright enough of you, for the rest of the night.” Foggy warned me and pointed a finger in my direction.
“I was kidding! Gosh.” I chuckle a little, both the boys finally sober up after a moment. The next hour or so went by with us finishing up some documents that we were done for the night.
“I can walk you home if you want Andrea.” Matt offered, Foggy looked a bit shocked by it.
“Sure, I don’t mind.” I said not wanting to be rude, but I do wonder how he would defend himself if something did happen. I’m sure we’ll be fine though. I say a silent prayer to myself before we leave the office
“Alright let me grab my stuff, and we’ll be on our way.” Matt said, he went to drab his suitcase from the office room, and I stood quietly and waited. Foggy had already said his goodbyes, and left a moment ago.
Matt, and I decided to take our time on the walk home. The mid summer heat continues to stale the air even at ten o’clock at night.
“I’m really glad you decided to join us Andrea, you’re personality is like a breath of fresh air to the office.” Matt spoke honestly. Our arms intertwined with each other as we walked through the hot New York streets. There were a lot of people outside, and hanging out of apartment windows.
“Thank you, honestly you guys are life savers. My mom had just got done chewing me out on the phone when Foggy offered me the job.” I rolled my eyes as my mind goes back to that conversation, but I’m pulled from my own thoughts when Matt chuckles a bit.
“It seems fate keeps following me around.” He said it out loud, but it seemed like he is more so talking to himself.
“You believe in that fate nonsenses?” I was really joking when I said that, but Matt’s sudden mood shift suggested he is dead serious.
“Fate is a strong force of nature, and I believe the more you avoid a path, the more agressive fate becomes to put you right back on track.” The voice that came from Matt just then didn’t sound like him at all, which spooked me a bit.
“Matt…everyone is in control of their own life, their own dreams, and their own fate.” I didn’t realize that we had made it to my apartment already, and as we stood outside the rotating doors he took my hands in his. Matt looked me right in my eyes, at moment I questioned rather, or not if he’s actually blind.
“I don’t know what it is, but something about you feels familiar to me, like something I loss a long time ago.”
I am utterly shocked by his revelation, I just stare back at him, a hint of a smile on his lips. For a second I thought he was just fucking with me, but when I pulled away from him, Matt gripped my hands.
“What am I even supposed to say to that?” I felt winded, like we had ran instead of walked all the way here.
“You don’t have to say anything, but a small suggestion…start looking into who you really are. For the both of us.” Matt finally let go of my hands, without another word he turned me in the direction of my apartment building doors.
“Are you gonna be okay to walk home by yourself?” I asked frantically, which is probably insultive, Matt is a grown man. It’s not like he just became this way over night.
“Lived in New York my whole life, nothing to worry about. I walk these streets with my eyes closed.” I pause my movements to turn around a look at him, my facial expression not amused…that that we could actually see that.
“Matt–
“I will be fine I promise, if I don’t show up to work tomorrow…that’s when you worry.” That statement did not make me feel any better. After some more fussing on my end, I finally went into the building and onto the elevator door. Matt stood, and watched from the lobby. I watched him back as the elevator doors creeked closed.
To my surprise, Daisy was home when I came through the threshold, the apartment smells like one of those Mexican restaurants on the east side. You could hear La India blasting through the whole apartment. In the kitchen my bestie of 2 ½ years can be seen swaying her hips to the rhythm of the music.
“Shit I feel like I’ve been transported back in time.” I mumbled to myself, I walked over to the stero and turned the music down. To which Daisy was still hollering the lyrics
“Pregúntale a la no– what the hell?” She cursed turning around, a frying pan in one hand, and spatula in the other. A pissed facial expression on her face, and her bonnet looped to one side. As beautiful as Daisy is, she consistently walked around the apartment looking like a crazy auntie.
“What is wrong with you? You do not touch a Spanish woman’s La India!” Daisy shouted, her accent thicker than ever, and she wasn’t done dramatically chewing me out either. It went on for another 3 minutes, most of it was her just making up shit that I didn’t even do. Daisy swore she didn't know Spanish, but she sure did know a lot when the time counted.
“Me vistes como computadora” (You dress me like computer) She gasped, I rolled my eyes. You'd think I’d be as affluent as her, but after 3 years…I still don’t know what the hell she’s saying to me. I stand there with my hand on my hip letting her continue for a moment more.
“Dame un sándwich de jamón y déjame en paz!” (give me ham sandwich and let me be!) This time she squeezed out a singular tear from her eye, and clutched her chest. I wish I could roll my eyes harder, there’s no one more dramatic than Daisy, and I love it.
“Are you done?” I asked as she was taking a deep inhale, a childish grin creeping onto her face.
“For the moment…yes I am. Now tell me about your new job. Do we like them? Do we hate them? Give me all the tea.”
So I spent the rest of the night telling Daisy about Matt, and Foggy. I told her about how cute Matt is, to be fair Foggy is cute too, but I felt like his heart is else where. Eventually we talked so much, Daisy, and I both passed out on the couch. That night I dreamed of Matt, but the voice I was talking to him in…didn’t feel like my own.
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stevethehairington · 1 year
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I posted 11,951 times in 2022
That's 5,130 more posts than 2021!
1,165 posts created (10%)
10,786 posts reblogged (90%)
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I tagged 10,094 of my posts in 2022
Only 16% of my posts had no tags
#stranger things - 6,115 posts
#eddie munson - 4,034 posts
#steve harrington - 3,695 posts
#steddie - 2,741 posts
#robin buckley - 884 posts
#stranger things 4 - 761 posts
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#succession - 483 posts
#joseph quinn - 384 posts
Longest Tag: 139 characters
#to everyone who reads my fics andeaves kudos and comments and reblogs them and everything: i love you thank you you are so wonderful 💕💕💕
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
There's a guy that frequents the same park that Steve takes his morning jogs through. He always sits at the same bench, with the same little journal in his lap, bent over it and scribbling furiously away at its pages. Sometimes he'll have headphones on, sometimes he won't. Sometimes he'll be wearing a full on leather jacket, despite the weather. Sometimes he'll just have a t-shirt on, with cut off sleeves that show off his glorious, tattooed arms. Sometimes his long curly hair will be down by his shoulders. Sometimes it'll be tied back out of his face.
But if there's one constant, it's that he is always there.
And he is cute.
Steve wants to talk to him, but he doesn't know what to say to the stranger. Doesn't really know how he would approach him either. Just walking up feels too weird, and forget sliding into the empty space on the bench beside him. Asking about the journal feels way too personal, too. And just saying "Hi, I've seen you around" feels sort of creepy (even though Robin assures him it isn't — it's just a conversation starter).
So instead of outright acknowledging him, Steve decides to be a bit subtler about catching his attention. He surreptitiously alters the course of his jog so that he runs directly past the guy, and if he starts wearing his old shorts from high school that are a little too tight, a little too short, well. Thats for him to know and this guy to notice.
It goes on like that for a few weeks. Steve jogging his new path, right past Cute Guy, trying to sneak a peek from his peripherals as he passes to see if Cute Guy is looking back. And either Cute Guy is really good about timing his looks, or he's just not looking.
It's kind of a total bummer. A real shame. But who knows, maybe Cute Guy already has someone at home. Or maybe he's not into guys. Or maybe he's just not interested in some random, sweaty stranger at the park who stares too much.
Oh well, Steve thinks. Even if Cute Guy isn't interested, he at least gives Steve something nice to look at on his run that isn't a tree so. He'll take what he can get.
And then one day Steve jogs past, not really paying Cute Guy much attention this time.
Only then he hears, "Excuse me! Excuse me, hey, dude, you dropped something!"
Steve slows to a stop, patting at his chest and pockets as he turns back. He has no idea what he could have dropped — he doesn't bring a whole lot to lose on his jogs in the first place, but there's no way Cute Guy is talking to anyone else.
But also hello Cute Guy is talking to him. Who the fuck cares if he didn't drop anything?
So Steve jogs back towards the guy, who is on his feet now, and jesus his jeans are tight. Steve approaches slow, tries to keep his eyes up, and comes to a stop in front of him. "Oh?" He asks. "I did?"
Cute Guy nods. "Yeah," he says, and holds out a little scrap of paper. He lets a grin (a dimpled grin, be still Steve's heart) spread across his face, tilts his head a little, and goes, "You dropped my number."
Sure enough, right there on the little scrap of paper, are seven digits and a name.
Eddie.
Steve looks back up at Cute Guy— at Eddie. Then he folds the paper back up and makes a show of tucking it safely into his pocket, pulling the zipper across so it won't fall out. He pats his pocket and grins back at Eddie. "Wouldn't want to lose that," he tells him. He sways forward on the balls of his feet, lifts a hand to his mouth like he's telling a secret. "Rumor has it that's going to get me a date with a very cute boy."
Eddie's eyes sparkle and his smile brightens. "I can assure you, that is no rumor."
3,232 notes - Posted November 17, 2022
#4
Accidental Kiss Goodbye Part 1
Part 2:
Steve isn't so sure how he makes the rest of the drive to Family Video without crashing. It's all kind of a blur, how he manages to operate a whole entire vehicle in the state he's in once it hits him. Because after it does, his brain is just one big broken record of IkissedEddieMunsonIkissedEddieMunsonIkissedEddieMunson — absolutely no regard for speed limits and traffic lights and other cars.
He enters the store with his eyes glazed over and a faraway look on his face. Robin, of course, clocks it immediately, and she's worried for all of thirty seconds before Steve just blurts it out:
"I kissed Eddie."
Robin raises an eyebrow, the rest of her slowly relaxing when she realizes it isn't actually anything life or death (even though it certainly feels that way to Steve). "That's good, right?" She asks. "You've been crazy about him for months, Steve. It's actually kind of painful how head over heels you are."
Steve scoffs and ignores the dig, but he fixes his wide eyes on her. "It's not good, Rob," he grouses. "I didn't mean to."
Robin scrunches up her face. "Huh? What do you mean you didn't mean to?"
"I mean it was an accident," Steve tells her.
"An accident?" Robin repeats, amused. "Like — like you accidentally tripped and caught yourself with his mouth?" She laughs. "I don't—"
"No," Steve hisses. "An accident like I wasn't thinking and I just did it." And then Steve explains it to her, tells her exactly what happened this morning. How Eddie had grabbed him, how Steve had gotten so caught up in the moment, how he hadn't even hesitated, just leaned right in for a kiss like it was something they did every day.
When he finishes, Robin is quiet for a moment. Two. Three. Then she laughs. Hard. Like, doubled over, clutching her stomach, wiping tears from her eyes hard.
Steve smacks the back of his hand into her shoulder and whines her name. "Robin, be serious! I'm freaking out here," he says.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Robin says, swallowing down the rest of her laughter and schooling her face into something more sedate as she gathers her wits. "Look, Steve," she starts, grabbing his arm, just above his elbow. "I really don't think there's anything for you to worry about. It'll be fine. You just need to talk to him."
Steve frowns. "I don't even know what to say to him."
Robin narrow her eyes at him. "You could always, mm, I don't know, try telling him how you feel," she suggests gently. Tilts her head and smiles a little playfully. "I mean, accidentally kissing him goodbye is a pretty good excuse to finally get around to it. Y'know, since you've been putting it off for so long." She shrugs. Grins.
Steve huffs out. He knows she's right. She usually is. "Okay, but how do I even do that?" He asks.
Robin sighs softly and shrugs again. "You're asking the wrong person for that," she says. "I'm hopeless. You know that. But you're not." She knocks her shoulder into his, snatches up one of the tapes from the counter and gives it a little shake. "And you've got the next eight hours to figure it out."
It's going to be a long shift.
The second Steve's shift — his long, tortuous shift — is over, he's out the door. Hurries straight to his car and drives right back to Eddie's place.
He parks, kills the engine, then just sits there. Staring at the door of Eddie's trailer. Psyching himself up.
When he finally gets out and walks the short distance across the dirt and climbs those few front stairs, he stops on the doorstep. Hesitates again. His stomach feels like it's twisted itself into knots, but he pushes past that and knocks before he can talk himself out of it.
It feels like years before the door finally swings open. And there's Eddie.
"Steve," Eddie says, and he sounds surprised to see him.
"Eddie, hey. Uh, can I— can I come in?"
Eddie just nods and steps aside so Steve can shuffle past him.
They sit on the couch together, side by side. It's a little awkward, a little stilted, the slip up from this morning clearly at the forefront of both of their minds. Neither one of them seems to want to be the first to acknowledge it.
But the silence is unnerving, and it grates on Steve enough that he finally just blurts out, "I kissed you."
Eddie snorts, but instead of making some brassy comment like he usually would, he just parrots back, "you kissed me."
It gives him nothing, is the thing. Eddie has been very stoic, since letting Steve in. His face, usually so open, so expressive, has been carefully blank. Not giving anything away. Like maybe he's just as nervous about how this conversation is going to go.
See the full post
3,356 notes - Posted October 17, 2022
#3
Steve spends the night at Eddie's place. He hadn't planned to, but they'd smoked too much, and he and Eddie ended up falling accidentally, uncomfortably asleep on the couch about halfway into the movie they'd put on. When they wake, it's to static on the television screen and knots in their backs.
One glance at the clock and Steve realizes he's running late for work. He barely has time to get dressed and shove the piece of toast Eddie, so graciously, made for him (crisp, but not too crunchy, and definitely not burnt, with just the right amount of butter spread thin across the top) in his mouth before he's running towards the door.
He's about two steps away, hand already reaching for the knob, when Eddie catches him by the belt loop and pulls him back. Steve stumbles, bumping into Eddie, and tries to twist around to see what Eddie's doing. But then he feels one of Eddie's hands at the small of his back, trailing lower and lower, and he freezes, his already racing heart beating faster. His breath is caught in his throat, all protests dying on his tongue as Eddie's hand creeps down past the hem of his jeans.
Steve has enough sense left to croak out a "Wha..." before he feels a tug on his shirt, and it only takes a second for him to realize that Eddie is just tucking the tail of it into his jeans, because he'd been in such a rush that he'd missed it himself. Oh.
Eddie's hands ghost up Steve's back again and land on his shoulders. He gives them a squeeze, then spins Steve around and reaches for his collar next, fussing with it until it's straightened and flat. He pats Steve twice on the chest and gives him a smile.
"Have a good day at work," he tells him.
Steve, at the complete whim of his scrambled brain, smiles back, tells Eddie thanks, glances at his watch, curses under his breath, then leans in to kiss Eddie goodbye.
Then, just as quickly, he's out the door and in his car and on his way to work.
It isn't until halfway there that it hits him what he's just done.
He kissed Eddie Munson.
(now with a Part 2)
3,824 notes - Posted October 16, 2022
#2
Eddie doesn’t tell the Corroded Coffin guys about his relationship with Steve. Not at first.
He knows they wouldn’t bat an eye at the fact that he’s got a boyfriend; they’re cool like that. But telling them who his boyfriend is? They're cool enough to accept Eddie being gay, but dating a jock? Dating Steve Harrington? Eddie isn’t so sure how they’d react to that. 
So he keeps that little detail to himself.
Not too carefully, though, as it turns out.
Eddie shows up to Wednesday band practice with a new ring on. It’s big, just like most of his rings are, but it’s a whole different breed of gaudy, with a huge emerald gem right in the center and thick lettering circling it and embossed onto the sides.
Gareth is the first one to clock it for what it is.
They finished up their first run through of their latest track (something new about a totally badass warrior who's beaten and battered and bruised, but won't let that stop him from throwing himself intro the fray) that Eddie just finished penning the lyrics for, then broke for a quick break and some water. Eddie stands across from Gareth, right hand wrapped around a water bottle, new ring on display. Gareth is close enough that he can make out some of the smaller details now — a paw print, the word ‘Hawkins’ right above it — and then it clicks.
“Dude,” he says, smacking his hand into Eddie’s arm. “You got a class ring? Since fucking when?”
Eddie’s face seems to go through several emotions all at once — confusion, surprise, a brief flicker of panic. It smooths over pretty fast after that, settling into something much more controlled, something much more collected after.
He switches the bottle to his left hand and flattens his right in the air, admiring the ring for a moment. “Oh, this?” Eddie asks with a chuckle, flashing it towards Gareth and the boys (who have all perked up in interest and shuffled closer), too fast for any of them to really get a good look at it.
“Holy shit, that is a class ring, what the fuck, Eddie?” Archie asks, face twisting up.
Jeff looks surprised too, squinting at Eddie’s hand, curiosity painted across his features.
Eddie doesn’t deign any of them with an answer, just sort of shrugs and drops the water bottle, replacing it with his guitar. He twists at the tuning keys on the head of his baby, ignoring it as Gareth and Archie erupt into a flurried back and forth of reasons why in the hell Eddie would be wearing one of those monstrosities.
Jeff is the only one to jump to his defense. “It’s weird, sure, but, like, is it really that bad? I mean, he spent six years there, so what if he wants to, like, commemorate it or something?”
Gareth and Archie turn twin what the fuck looks on Jeff, who just shrugs.
He doesn’t look too convinced of his own argument either — which is pretty merited. Eddie getting a class ring goes against, like, everything he stands for. He’s pretty sure he’s ranted about how stupid class rings are. How pointless they are. Plus, those suckers are expensive as fuck and Eddie has plenty of other, more important things to put that money towards. All things considered, they have every reason to be suspicious of it.
They all turn back towards Eddie, looking for confirmation or contradiction, but Eddie doesn’t offer them either.
He just gives the ring another short look, shrugs, and says, “So are we gonna get back to playing or what?”
And that’s that.
Except it isn’t.
Because at some point Eddie must have been playing with the ring, and he must have slipped it off, must have spun it around, must have stuck it back on his finger with the other side exposed. The side with the “1985” on full display. Big and bold and hard to miss.
And, of course, they notice that.
“Does that say ‘1985’?” Gareth asks, eyebrows pulled together and mouth curved down into a confused frown.
“‘85? Eddie, dude, isn’t that the year that you were supposed to graduate the first time?” Archie asks, just as baffled.
Jeff elbows him. “No, that was ‘84,” he corrects. “But he didn’t graduate in ‘85 either.”
“So why the fuck do you have a class of 1985 ring then?” Gareth questions. It’s hard for him to look menacing with that floppy hair of his, but he crosses his arms over his chest and fixes demanding eyes on Eddie anyways.
Eddie, once again, does not answer any questions. In fact, the only acknowledgement he does give them is a very casual, very nonplussed “Oh? Does it?” when they keep pointing out that the ring boasts “1985” instead of “1986”.
It’s pretty amusing, actually, listening to them trying to figure it out. But none of them come close to the truth. And Eddie certainly isn’t going to be the one to hand that over to them.
It goes on like this for a few more practices. The mystery of who Eddie’s class ring actually belongs to (because the boys have decided that there is no way it actually is Eddie’s. Not with the 1985.) continues to plague Corroded Coffin — before practice starts, during their breaks, in the aftermath of their jam sessions.
Eddie doesn’t stop wearing the ring, despite it, though. And he always finds a way to change the subject when Gareth, Jeff, and Archie bring it up, or he gives them stupid nonanswers instead that make them huff and puff.
See the full post
5,050 notes - Posted November 12, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
in school, the teachers always said that there is no such thing as a dumb question. no such thing as a bad one either. all questions were good questions, and students should be a asking them often.
but steve's not in school anymore, and he learns pretty quickly that those teachers? they weren't right. in fact, they were very very wrong.
he asks questions, more questions now than he ever did back in school, but he rarely ever gets any answers. instead, he gets an "oh, steve" and a pitying look. or he gets a sharp laugh, an eyeroll, and a "dingus" thrown his way. or he gets a snarky remark and a stare from a child that says duh.
and the thing is, steve knows no one's doing it on purpose. they're not trying to be mean; they're his friends. he's just not on the same level as them, he knows that, and it becomes quite evident whenever they find themselves in these kinds of situations. he gets curious. he gets confused. he only ever asks so that he doesnt end up screwing anything up. but no one takes him seriously. not as much as they should, anyways. and they just sort of expect him to know better. to know, period. and they get frustrated when he, well, when he doesnt.
so when eddie munson lands himself in the middle of their little group, with his punk rock attitude and his musical superiority, and his big huge nerd brain, steve thinks, here we go again.
only — no.
"ozzy osbourne? black sabbath? he— he bit a bat's head off on stage—"
"no, i don't—" steve stops himself from finishing that thought. stops himself from asking who? because, well, it's probably someone he should know. just like everything else is something he should already know too.
except eddie doesn't scoff. he doesn't roll his eyes. he doesn't make some snide comment or even laugh.
instead, he says, "doesn't matter."
instead, he explains it to steve.
instead, he lets steve in on it without making making him feel bad for being on the outs in the first place.
and it's— it's surprising. it's refreshing. it's so nice.
and it keeps happening.
steve asks questions, and eddie answers them. steve expresses his confusion, and eddie explains, as best he can. steve flashes eddie a puzzled look, and eddie gives him his own clueless shrug too.
because not knowing isn't a bad thing. needing clarification isn't a bad thing. asking questions isn't a bad thing.
and eddie makes sure that steve knows that.
___________________________________________
(having lots of thoughts and feelings and emotions about this gifset)
5,098 notes - Posted November 8, 2022
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journalofsorts2 · 1 year
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i was thinking about this just now, i think my communication issues stem from my dad (my mom too but i'm focusing on my dad rn cause it's more fresh in my brain). but every time i actually like open up about something that's bothering me it goes one of three ways with him. 1. is he turns it back on me with some backhanded comment about how the problem he's creating is actually caused by a problem i'm creating for him, this one's most common when i tell him about something that he did to upset me (which i rarely do nowadays). 2. is he goes on some long winded spiel about something that has nothing to do with my problem and ultimately makes me shut up because i just want the conversation to be over with and it makes me feel like opening up was pointless. and 3. is it turns into an argument and i feel worse than i did before. but i feel like the backhanded comment one happens the most because i'll try and tell him something that he's doing that's causing me stress in some way but i'll try to mention it subtly because if i tell him 'hey i want to talk about an issue i'm having with you' then it's guaranteed to turn into a fight with him yelling at me (despite the fact that i try my hardest to keep my voice level and i've told him numerous times about his yelling and my ptsd, but hey me crying because the overwhelming stress of trying to communicate with him wears me down makes him feel like i'm manipulating him so it's totally okay for him to yell, he's not in the wrong don't worry.) but like tonight he was like 'oh are you cleaning up your cat's trash?' (it was lighthearted and she likes to tear up cardboard) and i was like 'no actually i was plugging my ears cause the sound of *sister* taking out the trash is too loud for me and then you turn up your duolingo to out-do that sound and it's a little much' and then he was like 'well actually i turn it up because you two are right here fighting (he likes to say we're fighting a lot but we really don't and we've explained that to him numerous times) and i'm trying to actually listen to my lesson' and it's like jesus christ i'm sorry i brought it up at all, like sorry i tried opening up a little about my problems. when i broke down sobbing one time to him because the noises downstairs were too much he was like 'well why don't you just ask me to wear headphones? and i'm trying to fix my allergies sorry' (he has a really bad problem with heavy breathing and allergies and it really overwhelms me sometimes but like ik he can't help it, just like i can't either) but he basically came at me with a 'why didn't you tell me sooner' attitude when actually i did tell him like a year prior and his response was yelling at me to the point where i had a panic attack and then he continued yelling at me until he realized what was happening and provided as little support as possible. but like every time i've opened up to him about an issue i have with him lately that i discussed with him before he has a completely different attitude. and maybe it's because i've been better about keeping my cool, i've been better about not crying while trying to get my point across, maybe it's because pushing down my emotions has only gotten easier over the years, and so i don't start crying when i talk to him and so he doesn't see me as my mom, he doesn't see me using tears as a weapon of manipulation, cause she does that, and it's valid for him to have a bit of trauma with that because she's an abusive person. what's not valid is for him to take that anger he has with her out on me. that's not okay and i know that. and so just like he has to walk on eggshells to talk about serious stuff with her, i have to walk on eggshells to talk about serious stuff with him. idk to summarize this rant, he has problems communicating and that's made me more capable of withholding my true feelings about something when they aren't exclusively positive. okay rant over
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fullycompletely · 3 years
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me frantically googling “how can I tell if I’m a loud neighbour” despite the fact that I keep my tv at volume 5
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for @bend-me-shape-me 's SPN advent calendar 2020. prompt: phone calls and late night texts.
Cas isn't a serial texter.
And Dean's a-okay with it.
But for all that's worth, they sure seem to have a ridiculous amount of emotionally significant conversations via, or starting off as, texts. And most often, in the middle of the night.
*
>>> hello, dean. [12:07 am]
Dean jolts up at the sound, realizing he fell asleep still wearing his headphones, with the laptop on his lap (and a new episode of The Good Place playing) and rolls his eyes at himself, hitting pause before he can see what’s happening (because he has good reflexes, and because screw spoilers that’s why) and rummaging for his phone.
At this hour of the night, it has to be something important.
It doesn’t really strike him that Mechanical Engineering majors whose only other selfprofessed skill is air guitar aren't exactly the frontline warriors for midnight emergencies.
Cas's name shows up when he squints at the too-bright screen, and he sits up a little straighter.
<<< hey [12:09 am]
<<< you OK? [12:09 am]
The response is immediate.
>>> do you have peanut butter? [12:09 am]
And as if it's an afterthought, Cas adds.
>>> yes, I'm fine. how are you? [12:10 am]
Dean blinks.
<<< peachy. peanut butter? [12:10 am]
At least this time the response takes a while. Dean wonders if Cas realized it was midnight, and not exactly a time to run inventory on your best friend's stash of condiments.
>>> I ran out. [12:12 am]
Dean sighs, unable to help smiling.
It's not like he's a stranger to Cas's weird cravings when he's high. (There'd been this one time with pie and a traumatized Gas 'N Sip cashier that still sits heavy on Dean's conscience.) But he doesn't think Cas is supposed to be high right now — Dean's usually either invited or informed by an unspoken rule — which just means this is regular "jelly, not jam"-Cas, at his core a weird, persistently sleep-deprived economics major and astronomy nerd, that Dean may or may not have had a crush on for an embarrassingly long time, and who's also prone to grammatically perfect texting, deadpan, Disney references, and bluntness when the occasion calls for it.
<<< pretty sure i have some [12:14 am]
>>> :) [12:14 am]
>>> I'm coming over [12:14 am]
*
And weird as it may sound, that had turned out to be the night Cas told him he was gay. Said it had been a revelating moment, unprecedented and wholly unexpected — and apparently revelations come in pairs because it had been followed by an intense need for peanut butter, and the rest, he explained emphatically, was history.
Dean had just snorted, congratulated him, and brought out the fancier plates for sandwiches — shipped in from home instead of a sale at Target — all the while, repeating to himself in a loop, that this changed nothing between them, nothing at all, and Cas having the capacity to be attracted back to him didn't mean that he ever would be (or for hell's sake, he'd scoffed at his traitorous chick-flick-nonsense brain, is.)
*
The second time had been early — way, way too early and it was by pure chance that Dean was awake to respond at six friggin' am on a Sunday. Like, that’s practically nighttime. 
Goddamn stupidly-fit running-freak.
Dean picks up his phone blearily, tongue in cheek as he clicks on it.
>>> I miss you [6:28 am]
>>> I'd* miss you [6:29 am]
Dean's stomach twists, and he's not sure if it's in a good way, or a bad way, or what-the-sincere-fuck-are-you-talking-about way.
<<< what [6:32 am]
<<< wtf are you talking about? [6:32 am]
Nothing.
<<< cas? [6:33 am]
<<< dude [6:34 am]
<<< cas???? [6:34 am]
Dean swears at his screen, more queasy than irritated. He can't stop fidgeting, so gives up on lying down altogether and hoists himself to his feet. Better to get his friggin' toothbrush since he's already up, and now definitely awake. Cas was so paying for this later.
He comes back, mouth mint-fresh in theory but still tasting awful and of fear and dread, and practically sags when he sees his screen blare with two messages from Cas.
>>> sorry, I had to make a call. [6:42 am]
>>> I'm not taking the job. [6:42 am]
*
And that's how Dean finds out about Michael (Cas's oldest brother, entitled asshole) inviting Cas to join his and Lucifer's (second oldest, bag of dicks) firm the year he graduates — invite, of course, being a loosely used word here for expecting it blindly (out of some crap he calls 'loyalty') and being readily willing to manipulate him into it.
And it's how he finds out that Cas turned them down.
"It's not who I am anymore." Cas had repeated, third time probably, and surer than before, and Dean had nodded earnestly before realizing Cas couldn't see him through the phone, and humming his affirmation instead. "And if I go back there, I'm never getting out again."
Dean'd swallowed.
"I don't want to." Cas had said, voice trembling. "I am — my own person here. It shouldn't be like this but this is the first time I have autonomy, Dean. Here is free will, and here are you. I don't — I can't. I'm not going to let them take it away."
"Good." He'd sounded shaky to even himself. "Don't."
"Yes." Cas had promised. "I'm not going."
*
And eventually they'd moved past the heavy talk into why-didn't-I-hear-about-this-before territory, Dean being righteously annoyed at his best friend for keeping something so huge from him, and Cas making lame (but probably valid) excuses in the name of not knowing how to explain the situation until he knew himself what he was going to do, because Dean may've been the first person he'd confided in about the insane fuckery that been his childhood and adolescence, but that still didn't mean he'd understand this, broken and convoluted.
And then Cas had nicely segued himself out of Dean's target of irritation and added, "They asked Gabriel too, by the way."
"And?" Dean didn't ever have much care for Gabriel (third oldest brother, cares about Cas, still a jerk) but Cas shared an apartment with him, so he had to face him plenty.
"He's running off to Miami."
And Dean had thrown his head back and laughed until Cas had smoothly added, "And I was wondering if you would consider moving in with me." 
At which point, of course, he'd started coughing instead, because holy shit, it actually made sense (Sammy had left for Stanford two months back, and Dean lived alone in a space that had probably been two big even when there were two of them) and might actually happen, but Dean wasn't really sure how much longer he'd be able to hide his crush, sharing a friggin' kitchen with the guy.
*
The third time's after their first date.
(Because, well. It happened.
It happened with Dean leaning across the breakfast table to prove to Cas his bacon was superior (to cookie friggin' crunch, because goddamn is Cas a dork) and Cas taking a bite with their eyes fixed on each other's, and Dean turning red when Cas licked his lips and then, just like that, Cas swearing under his breath (definitely filed for later pondering, that bit), grabbing Dean, and kissing the living daylights out of him.
And Dean had kissed back with everything he had, hands cupping his face, and nearly melting in his arms - but then they'd separated for air and Cas had had an apologetic look on his face and when Dean had tried to lean in to kiss it away, he'd received half a smile and a shake of his head.
"Let's do it the way we're supposed to."
And Dean had known immediately what he'd meant. Let's not fuck this up by becoming best friends and roommates who sleep together. Let's...play safe.
"Okay. Uh," he'd rubbed the back of his neck. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"
"Thursday." Cas had promised with twinkling eyes, though Dean had already known he was going to say that since he knew Cas’s week at least as well as he knew his own, and two days and an anxious half of a thursday later, they went on their first date. Burgers and beer, and Led Zepp, and hands held in the Impala. Four hours later, they were back, and in their respective rooms, and Dean couldn't stop thinking about Cas.)
When his phone vibrates, Dean reaches for the bedside table.
It's at least midnight, it feels like he's been in bed for ages, and the only reason he isn't asleep is because all his brain seems to be capable of at the moment is thinking endlessly about the date. Fortunately, he's not the only one — although he's better at hiding it (practise, he'd say) because his heart is in his mouth the moment he reads Cas's text.
>>> I think I'm falling in love with you [11:43 pm]
>>> already. [11:43 pm]
Dean is very grateful for autocorrect as he types back with too-excited thumbs and a racing heart.
<<< so much for doing it the regular way cas mosby [11:44 pm]
>>> in my defense, it's been years. [11:44 pm]
<<< that part i get [11:44 pm]
<<< me too [11:44 pm]
<<< but youre supposed to wait three days before calling dumbass [11:45 pm]
Jesus, he'd never expected to blush cause of texts, but here they are.
>>> I'm texting. [11:46 pm]
And he guesses he'd never expected to giggle (he's alone there, sue him) cause of them either, but Cas apparently exists to prove him wrong about himself.
<<< good for you [11:46 pm]
He sends, biting his lip, and then lies in the silent darkness for a couple of minute, devoid of text notifications entirely, thinking uneasily — before he gives up.
They're idiots, sure, but nobody is this dumb.
<<< so when the fuck are you coming over then [11:50 pm]
>>> on my way <3 [11:50 pm]
And thinking about the lightening speed of that reply and the fucking heart emoji is enough to sustain him the entire one minute it takes Cas to get there, gently opening Dean's door, and climbing into bed — fitting in Dean's space like it's been made for him, and kissing him in greeting after leaving his phone on the table next to Dean's.
*
As it goes, with the confessions and the midnight cravings (and the grocery lists that keep getting piled onto through the day, and random pickup lines Cas decides are perfect to send Dean daily once he's found a website for puns, courtesy of Claire, and of course, pictures of Grease, which clog Dean's cloud in dozens whenever the ridiculously cute cat does something even slightly out of routine, god bless her lazy soul) Cas might just be a texter.
But Dean's pretty sure he's more than okay with it, so it doesn't really matter.
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petite-rambles · 3 years
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Jump Scare
Pairing: streamer!Kaminari x reader
Genre: smut
Warnings: nfsw, 18+
a/n: I think I’m going to write a part two to this if people are interested for more
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Kaminari was a growing streamer on twitch
He had started off by making YouTube videos but found steaming to be better for him
He still posts on YouTube when he feels like he made something good enough
Sero usually helps him edit everything
Sero was the one to get Kaminari into streaming in the first place
It’s just sometimes Kaminari streams for such a long time
And you get… bored
Kaminari had planned this stream for such a long time, you were so proud of his work. He always wanted to do a 12 hour live stream and he finally had the following to do so. Kaminari had been experimenting with the type of game that he wanted to settle on and ended up choosing a classic horror game, Five Nights at Freddy’s.
He picked the classic first game, he felt like that was the scariest one and the game that his viewers would enjoy the most. He had his streaming setup located in his room, so you usually stayed out so you wouldn’t distract him too much. It was easy enough to stay away from him but a 12 hour stream was just testing your patience.
You had been content in the living room but after about 6 hours you found yourself getting a little antsy. You had been keeping yourself entertained in the living room but you couldn't help but slip away from what you were watching to slip back into the bedroom. You were careful to not make too much noise, not that you were worried Kaminari could hear you.
He seemed like he was having the time of his life; interacting with his chat and playing a game that he thought was pretty fun. Fun could be objective though, the game did seem to be scarier than most. You stood at the door for a while to get the jist of what was going on while he was streaming.
Kaminari was obviously tense from the game, you could see the monitor over his shoulder. You made your way closer to him, making sure not to get into the frame of the camera. He was completely obvious, being too engrossed into the game and his noise cancelling headphones were working well.
You didn’t want to scare him but you did your best to tiptoe across the room. You felt yourself cringe a little when hearing the floor creak a little, but it’s not like Kaminari could hear you anyway. He was too focused on his game to even notice your presence beside his streaming setup. His eyes were glued to the screen as he was frantically trying to keep himself alive in the game.
You stood by his desk contemplating on what to do next. A smirk appeared on your face before falling to your knees, crawling underneath his desk. You were carefully not to touch his legs as you got yourself situated between his legs. He was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a loose fitting shirt, wanting to stay comfortable for the entirety of his 12 hour live stream.
You gently reached out and tugged on the leg of his sweatpants, near his ankle. Kaminari jumped violently before tearing his eyes away from his screen and down to you. He looked at your briefly before flicking his eyes back up to the screen. He stayed silent but opened his legs up for you to move between. You subconsciously licked your lips before moving forward.
Above you, Kaminari reached up to his camera and angled it up a little bit to make sure you wouldn’t get into the frame.
“Oh god we’re only at 3 am this is taking forever.” Kaminari mumbled, shifting slightly in his seat as you began to gently rub him through his sweatpants.
You moved to ghost your mouth over the outline of his cock, Kaminari struggling to keep quiet above you. He tilted his head back slightly, doing his best to not buck his hips up to much. You reached up and tugged down his sweatpants enough for his cock to pop out. Kaminari bit his lip as you heard his frequent clicking pause for a second before resuming.
You took his hard cock into your hand and began to pump him at an antagonizing slow pace. Kaminari bit back a whine and transitioned it to a noise of excitement.
 “Okay there’s night 4 done. I can’t believe it took me this long to get this fair.” Kaminari stated, taking this break in the game to fix his headset. His eyes flickered down to look at you before returning back up to the screen.
You smiled to yourself as you increased the speed of your hand, moving your head forward a bit to press soft kisses up the length of his cock. Kaminari’s eyes widened slightly as you felt him tense a little. There was something about being on camera that just made him a little more excited that usual.
You took the head of his cock into your mouth and he couldn’t stop himself from letting out an audible gasp. He squeezed his eyes closed for a second before returning back to the game. You sucked gently before taking the head out of your mouth. You used your tongue to lick a circle around the head before dragging your tongue down the underneath of his cock.
“Jesus.” Kaminari exclaimed, using a small jumpscare in the game to cover up his moan.
You dragged your tongue back up to the head before taking his cock back into your mouth. You began to slowly bob your head up and down, using your hand to stroke what you couldn’t quite reach from your current position.
“I’m going to die. I am going to fucking die.” Kaminari groaned, throwing his head back a little bit.
You did your best not to make too much noise so the microphone wouldn’t pick up on the sound. Kaminari was bucking his hips slightly to match the pace at which you were bobbing your head. You could tell he was having a hard time keeping himself together. His cheeks had become noticeably red and he was having a hard time concentrating on his game.
You started bobbing your head a little faster, using your free hand to gently play with his balls. Kaminari’s hips started to become more wild, signaling you that he was really close. You gave a particularly hard suck, causing his free hand to move from his desk and into your hair. He used the grip in your hair to force your head down a little as he came into your mouth.
“Fuck.” He mumbled quietly, closing his eyes for a second to enjoy his high. You stayed in place and waited for him to finish before pulling your mouth off. Kaminari opened his eyed and looked down at you in time to watch you swallow, winking up at him when your mouth was empty. 
Kaminari smiled to himself before returning to his game, a look of confusion quickly falling onto his face.
“Where the fuck is Foxy?” He mumbled.
He suddenly let out a high pitched scream as a red fox animatronic suddenly appeared on the screen. You slapped your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from laughing out loud.
“Holy shit, my heart is beating so fast. I feel like I’m about to die.” Kaminari whined, throwing his head back against the headrest of his chair.
It took him a second to recompose himself before reaching down with a huff to put himself back in his sweatpants. You took this opportunity to climb out from underneath his desk and to stretch a little bit. Kaminari looked over at you and gently shook his head before turning back to his streaming setup. He reached for his phone and seemed to type out a message. He put his phone down and looked at you expectantly.
You looked at him for a second before walking out of the room and to where you were lounging before. You grabbed your phone and of course you had one message from Kaminari waiting to be opened.
I wish you could’ve waited, but that pussy is going to be ruined once I’m done with you
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mah-gah-lee · 3 years
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You’re such a bitch - (Charlie Gillespie x reader)
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Word Count: 2486 Request: no, again @jatpsmut​ inspired me with his fic “What Happens in Hawaii Stays in Hawaii - Charlie Gillespie x Reader (SMUT - 18+)”. I asked her if I could use the Hawaii idea and now I am writing this!
However, some details change from the original fic:
“Charlie and y/n haven't been best friends since they were kids, but from the first season of jatp. y/n is an additional actor on Julie and the Phantoms, also a dancer. Charlie didn't confess his feelings to y/n in Hawaii.
The only thing I got from the idea of @jatpsmut​ is the fact that something happened in Hawaii. So thank you to her for writing this incredible fic, without it this could not happen Summary: You and Charlie were best friends and roommates in LA. One evening, you heard it with a girl, the next morning, everything is awkward, bitchy and everything changes. Warnings: mention of sexual activities - language disclaimer: I don't know Charlie or his family personally or what his life is like. All you will read in this "x reader" is from my imagination. My point is not to invade Charlie's privacy. I don't want to offend him or offend anybody else in his life (family, potential girlfriend…). All of this is not the reality
 Tagged: @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @standingtalllove​ @lukeys-giggle​ @happinessinthedarkesttimes​ if you want to be tagged in my next fic let me know ! 
--- 
You try to focus on the TV show you were watching, but obviously your roommate had company. And that company was way too loud in your opinion. You were rolling your eyes in annoyance when suddenly your phone vibrates, displaying the blonde head of your second best friend. If there was one thing you miss since you came back to live to Los Angeles, it was obviously living with this sarcastic character. Vancouver seemed so far away to you. You picked up your phone and Owen's face appeared.
 “Hi sweetie.” Owen told you with a smile “Oh, hey… Why that face?” he clearly noticed your annoyance. "Hi O." you said before complaining "Ugh, I miss living with you in Vancouver so much" "Yeah me too. We had so much fun. But hey, I'm sure we'll have a season two." "I hope so much"
You were an extra cast member on Julie and the Phantoms, you also were a dancer on the first season, just as Tori. You wished so much Owen was right about Jatp season 2 renew but Netflix seemed to enjoy making you patient. But the coronavirus had also literally messed up all your plans. However, you were angry, some series came out long after yours and got renewed while yours stayed on hold. It was clear that fans of the series as much as you were just waiting for the renewal of season two.
A moan came out of Charlie's bedroom with the sound of a bouncing mattress, you rolled your eyes again, groaning with a sort of anger.
"Jesus Christ ..." you complained "Wait, y/n, what's that sound?" “You know what I miss most about living with you in Vancouver O’? Rule #3. " “Rule #3? Rule #3" he seemed to think about what you said when he finally realized "Oh ... Oh! Rule #3! Wait.. Oh my God! Is Charlie being with a chick right now? ” He asked you with stupefaction. "Oh I wish you were wrong"
A laugh came out from you best friend mouth and you gave him a killer look through the screen, making him laugh harder. When you were in Vancouver, living with two boys forced you to set limits and rules for living. The first was; everyone cleans up their own mess. Second, the housework takes turns. Third rule: no one-night stand allowed in the flat. Surprisingly as it may seem, this rule had been followed very well by everyone. But at the same time, the boys' schedules really didn't make time to bring anyone home, and then after all, they were professional. But as soon as Charlie returned from his parents' quarantine, he forgot the existence of this rule, as if it did not apply to Los Angeles. It wasn't like he brought a different girl home every night, or even every month. It might have been the second or third time since you had moved in. But this situation embarrassed you more than you might have thought.
“Owen, don't make fun of me. I've been hearing them for about an hour now. " "Poor you. Now you understand how I felt in Hawaii" he smirked at you. "Wait, what did you say?" you asked him, in shocked. "Oh please y/n ... you heard me clearly"
Of course, you had heard what he said, but you were in shock at the revelation, so you needed confirmation. This story was supposed to be a secret between you and Charlie. The fact that Owen mentioned it could only assume two things.
"Did you hear us in Hawaii?" “I was in the room next door! Of course, I heard you. It's not like you and Charlie are the quietest couple ever having sex ... " "It seems Charlie is the loudest one…" you said, referring to your best friend having sex in the next bedroom. "Oh darling please, I can remind you of what you said that night. You two gave me nightmares." "Please don't. I feel so embarrassed right now"
Last year you went to Hawaii with several cast members and Kenny. A booking error forced you to share a bed with Charlie. It seemed that sleeping with a girl seemed more adequate than two boys sleeping in the same bed. Charlie and Owen had avoided that possibility the second the problem had arisen. One thing leading to another, after a few strong cocktails, you and the dark-haired boy had ended up having a horny night. The shame caused the next day made you both never talk about it again and "what happened in Hawaii will stay in Hawaii". You didn’t know that Owen heard you and it seems that boy can keep a secret for so long now.
The problem was that that night you realized that you felt more than an attraction to your roommate. It went beyond friendship or mere sexual tension at the sight of this Canadian. You wanted every aspect of what you might have experienced with Charlie and more: the laughs, the funny times, the lots of talking, the quiet times watching a movie or just playing Nintendo Switch, the sex. But you also wanted the PDAs, the feelings, just being with him like his girlfriend. But the actor was totally oblivious to your feelings for him, and you didn't even want to try to make him understand it on his own. You just created a shell for yourself and buried your feelings deep within yourself.
 “I don’t understand y/n. Why didn’t you tell him your feeling?” “Because I know he doesn’t love me back, O.” “Oh come on! You two are the most stubborn people I ever met!”
Again, for the third time tonight, you've rolled your eyes. You were pretty sure Charlie didn't feel the same way you did. Since Hawaii, neither of you had stepped forward towards each other, but sometimes your behaviors showed that you were more than friends. Another moan was heard from Charlie’s room and Owen's face on the screen was memorable. His eyes were wide and his cheeks were red.
"Okay, y/n. I'm sorry but I don't want to keep talking to you and hear my other best friend hooking up at the same time ..."
 You laughed and he hung up the phone not forgetting to say goodbye. You tried to focus on your screen again, your headphones being way too far away for you to catch them. Minutes later you finally heard the distinctive sound of Charlie's orgasm and knew you were finally going to be able to sleep.
 …
The next morning you woke up with a high level of fatigue. You casually walk to the kitchen to make coffee. While you were pouring yourself a cup of this much-desired black liquid, a person entered the kitchen.
 "Who the fuck are you?"
You raised an eyebrow, bringing your mug to your lips. The girl looked at you with a disgusted face.
"Roommate, darling. Not nice to meet you." "Why the hell are you wearing his shirt?"
A smirk appears on your lips, far too happy that she asked the question. When you were in Vancouver, it wasn't surprising to see you wearing the boys' t-shirts, although you had a preference for Charlie's, there were times when you wore Owen's. The boys never complained about this mania and you had to continue when you moved to Los Angeles with Charlie. The scene was pretty funny, you were there drinking your coffee in a t-shirt borrowed from your roommate while his conquest from last night stared at you in disgust, decked out in another Charlie t-shirt. You took a look at the Looney Tunes t-shirt you were wearing and just shrug your shoulders.
 “Old habits.” You simply said. "Yeah, you're gonna have to break this habit."
You laughed disdainfully. You didn't like this girl. Not because it was the conquest of your best friend for whom you had blatant romantic feelings. But rather because she had this condescension and believed that spending a night with Charlie gave her every right.
 "What makes you think that, sweetie?"
 You leaned against the kitchen counter, your posture offhand, a smirk on your lips. You weren't used to being such a bitch, but the girl in front of you pissed you off. And it was only nine in the morning.
 "Well, hello, I spent the night with Charlie." "Oh yeah sure, but that doesn't mean you're dating him." "Charlie is a great guy"
She wasn't wrong. Charlie wasn't heartbroken but he was still human and a twenty-two-year-old boy. Just looking at her you knew your best friend hadn't chosen her for a serious relationship with her. The little conversation you were having with her now confirmed that he couldn't date her. Another smirk spread across your lips as she looked at you with disdain again.
 "Who the fuck do you think you are? You are nowhere near his level" she said to you
This time, you couldn't help but laugh sarcastically. Yeah, she really pissed you off. Physically, she was everything Charlie didn't like about a potential girlfriend: big breasts, much bigger than him, slightly shallow. Oh but she had a fucking ass and maybe that was why he had chosen her. Her whole body reflected Charlie's choice for a one-night stand, but not the ideal girlfriend.
 "Oh honey, I'm nobody, but neither are you. Listen. You were just a one-night stand and me? Me, I'll still be here in his apartment with his t-shirts on when he brings you home, telling you that it was cool but that it will not go further. I will always be there ... "
Charlie woke up and headed straight for the kitchen. He greeted her conquest with a nod, giving her a hello. Instinctively, he approached you and put his hand on your waist before placing a soft kiss on your cheek. Charlie was tactile, it was his language of love. You couldn't help but smirk at the girl, giving her a victorious look. The actor looked at your outfit and a smile appeared on his lips.
 "So that's where it was! I thought I lost it in the Galapagos." he was referring to his looney tunes t-shirt
Your attention fell on Charlie and you smiled happily at him. You cheekily handed your cup of coffee.
"Coffee?" "Hell, yeah"
He grabbed your cup and took a long sip, leaving his conquest almost nonexistent to his eyes. The girl was so pissed off that she seemed to be boiling. She cleared her throat, annoyed.
 "Hmm, I'm going to go" she said. "Oh wait, let me have lunch and I'll bring you back if you want." "It won't be necessary."
You bit the tip of your tongue, amused, far too happy to hide it. Charlie's conquest returned to his room to get dressed. Your roommate turned to you and gave you a questioning look.
"y/n, what did you do?" "Nothing. We were happily getting know each other. I'm surprised at your choice, by the way" "Are you getting revenge?" "Get revenge for what?" "Since ... Hawaii, you've scared all the girls I've brought back." "Did I scare them? Stop, I haven't acted any differently than usual." “You scared them away,” he repeated. "Oh come on, Charlie, please, it's not like you're going to date them."
 He pulled away from you with a look of dismay. You were not wrong, he had never called back the girls he had brought back here, he did not intend to call back the one who was currently in his room. In fact, the only person he really wanted to spend time with was you. But since Hawaii, you seemed to be okay with never mentioning your night together again. This Canadian boy has been in love with you for months, maybe even years now. It quickly fell for you when you were in Vancouver.
"You're right. But I could have ..." he finally confessed "It's wrong. You know it's wrong Charlie, I know you, I'm your best friend. These are not the kind of girls you date. "Yeah… I couldn't date any of them. They just aren't you." He said, his last sentence ending in a whisper before hastening to take a sip from your cup of coffee.
You were paralyzed. Did he really just say what you've been dreaming of hearing for months? Did he just drop it like a bomb, in the middle of a morning conversation between sips of coffee?
“Wait, what?” “Nothing” “It wasn’t nothing, Charlie, you said something” “Nothing important” he repeats “Did you just say that if you didn’t date those girls it’s because they weren’t me?” “You seems to hear voices” “Charlie, I’m not joking… Did you say that?!” “Maybe” “Oh fuck, you’re an idiot!” “I am a..”
You snatched the cup of coffee from her hands and hurriedly put it on the counter. Never mind about the stains on the floor, you will clean up later. You didn't want to miss a second of this possibility. You wrapped your arms around Charlie's neck before resting your lips on his. Your best friend seemed surprised at first so much but quickly relaxed and wrapped his own arms around your waist as your lips moved to give the kiss more tender. The situation was most strange and funny; you were kissing your best friend, running your fingers through his long brown hair. You had to admit that even though you had found him attractive with his Luke's look but you couldn't imagine Charlie without that impressive mass of hair. Luke had short hair, Charlie had long hair. End of the discussion.
So, you were kissing your roommate, making up for lost time while in his room, a girl he had fucked the night before gathered her things. Charlie's conquest stepped out to head for the exit. You broke the kiss making Charlie growl in protest.
"I'm not showing you where the door is." you said. "whore .." the chick whispered.
Charlie stepped away from you and brought his one-night stand to the door, apologizing. He wasn't that kind of boy to go from girl to girl and the circumstances were really strange. The girl left, not without forgetting to curse him. When Charlie walks into the kitchen, you were sitting on the counter, a smirk on your face.
"You're such a bitch y/n" “It's my revenge for keeping me awake last night.” 
His gaze was sly, his smile was mischievous and you knew he was going to find a phrase worthy of the fucking boy he could be. 
"I can keep you awake for a while if you want." “A date wouldn't be too complicated, Charlie. Please be a gentleman. "You can count on me"
He gave you a softer look and you wrapped your arms around his neck again before kissing him. Ultimately, not everything that happened in Hawaii has to be restricted to Hawaii.
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tsukishumai · 3 years
Text
Prank Wars w/ their S/O - Tsukki, Kuroo, Akaashi, Bokuto
My Gym 3 babies! 
Couldn’t get this idea out of my head lmao, so I cranked it out real quick.
Hope you like!
Aged-up characters :)
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TSUKISHIMA –
You looked at the clock on the wall of your shared apartment.
It read ’11:56 PM’
Tsukki’s birthday was in four minutes, and the two of you were spending it huddled around the kitchen table, papers scattered all over while you both attempted to finish your midterm papers.
Not exactly the most glamorous way to spend it, but such is life for college students.
Still, that didn’t mean you didn’t have something up your sleeve.
Tsukishima was sitting across from you, eyes trained to the screen of his laptop, headphones on with the volume undoubtedly maxed it.
“Kei,” you called out, and just as you expected, he couldn’t hear a word you said.
You rummage through your bag, and found the pair of scissors you stowed away earlier for this exact moment.
“Kei,” you said again, a little louder this time. Still, you were met with nothing.
‘Perfect.’
“Kei!” you yelled out, and with a quick snip, you had cut the wire that was connecting his headphones to his laptop.
You watched as Tsukishima’s eyes widened slightly, eyes darting from the cut wire to you, then back to the cut wire, then back to you.
“What the actual fuck?” he said in disbelief.
“I’ve been calling your name for ten minutes now, and you were ignoring me!”
“So you cut my headphones” he sputtered out, still trying to process the situation.
“You couldn’t hear me!”
“Wha – I – Are you an actual moron?!” His eyes narrowed at you, taking the now broken head phones off his head and throwing them off the table, “There were a hundred different ways to get my attention, and you had to pick the most idiotic way. Jesus fucking Christ, how the hell am I supposed to –“
You cut him off by placing a small box on the table, wrapped in a light green wrapping paper patterned with a cartoon dinosaur wearing a party hat.
He stared at the box.
“’How the hell am I supposed to drown out your annoying voice’? That’s what you were gonna say, right?”
He glared at you.
You pointed to the box.
“What the hell is it that?” he asked, eyeing the box suspiciously.
“It’s a present,” you rolled your eyes, “or are you too stupid to – “
He snatched the box from the table at your words. You smirked with satisfaction as you watched him quickly ripped off the paper, his hands stilling once he realizes what was underneath.
It was a set of Bluetooth headphones – ones that he has been eyeing for months but hadn’t been able to save up enough money to get.
He looked up at you, eyes softening immediately at the proud smile you had on your face.
“Happy birthday, Kei!” you giggled.
He stood up from his chair to make his way around the table and gave you a sweet kiss on the forehead.
What’s a present without a little psychological torture?
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KUROO
Kuroo was planning to be nice to you today.
Really, he was.
He even took a quick pit stop at the mall so he could get you a drink from your favorite boba spot.
But when he walked passed the kiosk selling cheap hair extensions, an idea so great popped into his head, he couldn’t ignore it.
He got to your apartment, and the happy smile on your face almost made him hesitate to go on with his plans.
But then you said, “What’s up with your hair today, Tetsu? Couldn’t be bothered to look in the mirror for longer than two seconds?”
His eyebrow twitched.
He waited for the perfect opportunity, and it came when you went into the bathroom to finish doing your make up.
He grabbed a pair of scissors from a drawer in your kitchen, and then cut off a thick lock of hair from the extension he had bought that matched your color.
He tiptoed his way into the bathroom, making sure not to make much noise so that you didn’t notice him.
Making a big show of it, he snipped the scissors loudly behind your head, then held up the fake lock of hair for you to see in the mirror.
He couldn’t stop the shit eating grin from spreading on his face as he watched your face slowly register what you just heard, and what you were seeing in the mirror.
Your face contorted with anger and disbelief, quickly snapping your head around to stare at the lock Kuroo was holding.
“WHAT,” you shrieked, “THE. FUCK!”
Kuroo was bent over laughing at this point.
“KUROO TETSURO, I – YOU –“ You sputtered, but then you turned back to your sink, pulling open a drawer and rummaging through the contents.
Kuroo wondered for only a minute what you were looking for before you produced your own pair of scissors.
Kuroo’s eyes widened, “Y/N…”
“COME HERE YOU ASSHOLE,” You tried to grab at his hair, but he was too quick, and grabbed your wrist.
“Hey, calm down,” he shrieked, “You’re gonna hurt somebody!”
“YEAH, THAT WAS THE PLAN.”
“It was a prank!” he said quickly, and you stopped thrashing around, and Kuroo let out a sigh of relief.
He ran out of the bathroom to grab the plastic bag of fake hair, lifting it up for you to see when you trailed after him.
“See,” he said, “I got it at the mall earlier. Now… Please… Put the scissors down?”
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Akaashi –
You and Akaashi were having a peaceful Sunday
After spending the morning lazing around on the living room couch, the two of you decided to go for a run around the neighborhood.
Bad idea.
You absolutely hate running.
Akaashi managed to convince you with the promise of making you chocolate chip pancakes when you finished, but not even that was giving you the motivation to pick your feet up from the ground.
 “Alright, that’s it,” Akaashi called from twenty feet ahead of you, his natural athleticism making you more irritated by the second, “Almost there, you can do it!”
You know he was trying to be motivating, but it just made you want to chuck your shoe at his pretty head.
Your body was aching and exhausted by the time you got back to your door.
Akaashi gave you a quick peck on the cheek, told you to go take a shower while he prepared breakfast.
You agreed, but made your way into the kitchen first to grab an apple sauce packet from the cupboard cause a bitch hates cramping.
When you noticed the box of dried pasta sitting in the corner, an idea flashed into your head.
Quietly, you opened the box and grabbed a few dried pieces, shoving them into your mouth before you turned to Akaashi.
“Hey, Keiji? My back is kind of aching, do you think you could help me crack it?”
He tiled his head at you, setting down the bowl of pancake batter he was mixing.
“How do I do that,” he whipped his hands on a towel before positioning himself behind you.
You crossed your arms. “Just wrap your arms around me, then pick me up and squeeze really tightly.”
Akaashi nodded, wrapping his arms around you. “Ready?”
You nodded, and as soon as you felt Akaashi lift you from the ground, you bit down on the dried pasta in your mouth, creating a loud cracking sound.
Akaashi let go of you in shock, dropping you onto the floor, but you were trying so hard not to laugh, you didn’t even mind.
“Holy hell, was that your back?! Oh my god, Y/N, are you okay?!””
Akaashi knelt down from where he stood, trying to hold you up while you clutched your stomach.
You couldn’t hold it in anymore, and you burst out laughing.
Akaashi narrowed his eyes as you grabbed a napkin from the counter and spat out the dried pasta from your mouth, laughing even harder when Akaashi looked at you in disgust.
 Realization dawned on his face, and he dropped you on the floor once again, stood up, and started heading towards the bathroom, leaving you to pick yourself up.
“Aw come on, Keiji~”
“I’m taking a shower. Make the pancakes yourself.”
“No! Keiji!!”
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Bokuto –
You were trying to enjoy the newest episode of your favorite show when it was interrupted by loud screaming.
Screams that you could only recognize as Bokuto’s
You rush out from your room, only to find your boyfriend screaming his head off from the kitchen counter
“Kou?! What the – “
Your eyes barely took in the sight before you.
Bokuto with a knife in his right hand while his left is on the cutting board and all you saw was red – so much red.
“OH MY GOD, KOTARO, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK”
“Y/N, OH MY GOD, GET SOME PAPER TOWELS!”
You scramble around, and in a panic, you grabbed the dish rag that was on the sink, and threw it at him.
“NO, THAT’S A RAG, THAT’S DIRTY!”
“OH MY GOD, WHERE ARE THE DAMN PAPER TOWELS,” you scream out, scrambling around the kitchen that you’ve lived in for the past year, “WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING?!”
“I WAS TRYING TO COOK US SOME DINNER,” Bokuto cried out, and you finally found the damn paper towels under the sink.
You grab the entire roll, ripping off a few sheets and pressing them onto Bokuto’s fingers.
Except, when you wiped the paper towel away, there was no blood. It was… tomato sauce?
And Bokuto’s fingers were neatly intact.
When you finally noticed Bokuto’s phone recording you, you turn to glare at him.
The bastard had the audacity to burst out laughing.
“That’s not funny, Kou!” you shrieked, throwing down the paper towels and storming out of the kitchen.
“Aw, come on, Y/N,” he said in between laughter, “I’m surprised you even fell for that.”
“Well, what the hell was I supposed to think when I come running down, and you’re screaming your head off!”
You crossed your arms and pouted. Bokuto snickered, washing his hands before he wrapped his arms around your waist.
“You gotta admit,” he smiled, nuzzling his face into your neck, “That was a good one.”
You sighed, wrapping your arms around him. “Yeah… it was.”
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yoshkeii · 3 years
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Tsukishima Kei soft n fluff~
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࿐ character: Tsukishima Kei
࿐ genre: soft n fluff
A/N: this is generally self-indulgent bc i love tsukishima sm and honestly kin him (yes. yes i kin him.) also! you can still requests soft/fluff hcs for him since this one is yknow self- yeah...
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❀ Tsukishima will rarely ever ask for cuddles, but when he does it's usually on days where he's exhausted from practice. Done with being dragged and tossed around for the day. Coming home to you is the only thing he looks forward to on days like these. His hair ruffled and messy, he'll come trudging toward you wherever you are and wrap his arms around you. Typically around your waist or stomach, as he rests his head on you or his head buried in your neck. He just stays there silently until you talk to him, "Tsuki- Wanna talk about your day?" you hummed lightly to him. But to only get a soft tired mumble, "Just stay still for a moment."
❀ He'd honestly love to have study dates with you. He'll help you with subjects you are struggling with and teaches you some helpful note-taking skills too! Sometimes he may lose some patience with you at some points because he notices you rarely ever paying attention. But you really are just admiring your boyfriend, softly smiling and spacing out about him. Till he snaps his fingers or calls out your name, making you snap out of it quickly. "Hey, pipsqueak! You listening or not?" He said softly hitting your forehead with the edge of his pencil. You nodded in reply, but Tsuki really knows you weren't.
❀ But on the other hand, he really does the same with you. Just staring at your face, finding every feature of you adorable as you focus on homework and notes. Sometimes he'll push some hair out of your face to see it more. But usually, when you catch him watching you he looks away and tries to play it off- The slight tint of blush gives it away, you can tease him all you want but he'll never admit it.
❀ Tsuki secretly loves your hands. Since it's not a big chance to have an s/o taller than him, the size difference between your guys' hands makes him get small butterflies in his stomach. Whenever you are asleep, cuddled aside from him, he'll slowly slide his fingers in between yours entwining them. Feeling your grip tightened lightly instinctively. Making him form a smile on his face. ALSO- PDA isn't his type of thing honestly, so handholding might be the only thing ya'll ever do. Maybe sometimes,, little kisses,, n stuff-
❀ You and Tsuki would definitely have matching dinosaur onesies no doubt- Or just matching onesies in general (but preferably dino ones to fulfill Tsuki's dream-) He would at first refuse to wear it but did it anyway for your sake. But we all know this man will wear it whenever like- dinosaurs guys.
❀ We all know that Tsukishima brings headphones anywhere he goes (whichifullyfuckingunderstand-), so he got his own playlists of course. He'll only let you and possibly, Yams, listen to them. But it's a rare chance. Sometimes he'll play his playlist in your home with the wireless speakers lingering in most of the rooms, so you know some songs that he listens to them and started to know the lyrics to some of them. If this man catches you singing one of them- Ohhh jesus- he'll swoon over you.
❀ On the musical note, he will make a playlist that reminds him of you. He wants to share it with you but is embarrassed about it since he's not known for affectionate, intimate romancy stuff. So it'll take some time for him to gain courage and man up (as Noya and Tanaka would say)
❀ Tsukishima is very observant of you and takes little notes too. He can identify if something is wrong or up with you easily.
❀ oh please kiss this man as a surprise it will make him flustered and a fucking tomato it's so cute and adorable- I-
❀ Most likely not the one to first initiate "I love you" but when he does, it's fucking special. Cherish those three words from him. P l e a s e .
❀ I'm definitely not gonna forget that this man will tease the hell out of you, still. He'll call you whiney and clingy when you yearn for cuddles. Teasing you about your height and size with jokes and comebacks. And so on- Tsuki will use anything to tease you. It's his way of showing emotion in.. his way.
❀ Tsuki isn't the one for any pet names or nicknames, I mean he'll enjoy some of them but that's very few. But he secretly yearns for one name to come out of your mouth, his first name. Kei. You used that name when you confessed to him. Hearing it softly in the end as he saw you in front of him. Your brown eyes staring away to avoid the eye contact, awkward tension building in the air. Ever since then, he rarely heard that name from you, except when you used his full ass name when he gets in trouble.
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Text
5 Times Musa wore Riven’s clothes
Read here or on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29376804
1.
The Alfea Games is a bullshit annual tradition. It's an exam masquerading as a tournament, just a way for the teachers and high rankers of the Kingdom to see who they want to pluck out of the Academy and take for their army, or task force, or some other random position Riven could really not care less about.
Still, he's competitive, and if there's one thing he likes doing, it's beating Sky.
He slashes, a dagger in each fist, at the Burned One projection and it falls to its knees shrieking.
The stands are full of students cheering, and Riven gets a rush at their applause.
"Show off." Sky pants from beside him, as Riven's tally flicks up to 7, and Sky's stays stubbornly at 4.
"Jealous, much?" Riven grins; relieved when the half-time bell chimes because his legs are sore, and the late afternoon sun still burns as it begins to dip out of the sky. He and the other Specialists head over to the shade and he rifles through his rucksack for some water as Sky goes to kiss Bloom, who's leaning over the rail; red tresses swaying in the breeze.
"You were amazing!" Bloom gushes, and Sky beams at her, and Riven mimes throwing up.
Someone laughs.
He turns to see Musa, headphones around her neck, hair in pigtails, and-and-
In his jacket.
She's wearing his jacket. His leather jacket. It's draped over her shoulders. Her bare shoulders, because she's wearing some strapless, form-fitting purple dress, and Riven's coat, she's wearing Riven's-
"You okay, man?" Sky asks, and Riven realises they're all looking at him, and he's still looking at Musa, and her big, brown eyes are lit up a sort of hazel in the red setting sun.
He nods, waving them off, and chugs more of his water, trying to temper his heartbeat.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Musa asks, more quietly, her irises flaring purple. Her eyebrows stitch together worriedly. "You're like- really anxious. It's just a game."
"Stay out of my head." He hisses furiously, petrified that she might be able to see, might be able to tell-
She leans away from him, scowling. "Fine. Whatever."
He's grateful when the bell rings again, but his winning streak is gone. As the flood-lights turn on and the sun disappears, he misses target after target. He keeps getting pinned by fucking rookies and everyone else's tally continues to jump up as his dies on a plateau.
He can see her, in his peripheral, wearing his jacket and she probably doesn't even know it's his. She probably doesn't know how she looks in that leather swamping her frame, the collar resting at her neck, where the skin looks so soft that-
"Fuck, dude," Sky curses, hauling Riven off his ass. "Pull yourself together."
"She's wearing my jacket." He snaps, and Sky looks at him blankly for a moment, before he groans.
"Dude, I know you're like, against sharing, but she was freezing and it was just lying there. I'd have given her mine, but Bloom had already-"
"It's fine, just-" Riven tries to shake it off, "I'm focused."
He can't help a final glance over his shoulder, to see Musa leaning sleepily against the railings, headphones now secured over her ears, resting her chin on her arms. On his jacket sleeves. She's lit by the silver floodlights, and her eyes are half-closed, and he wonders what she's listening to. He wonders-
The Burned One knocks him to the ground, and the buzzer blares.
2.
The next day, traces of her perfume linger on his jacket, swirling around him the way she does, always, in his thoughts.
It's sweet, like honey and vanilla, like home-spun sugar and toffee.
He'd found his jacket right on the bench where he'd left it after the game: the stands empty, the game over. It had been folded neatly and left just beside his things and he'd slid it on and tried not to replay their interaction in his head.
Today's a new day.
As part of Sky's new scheme to become the best boyfriend in the history of boyfriends, they've been sitting with the Winx Suite most lunch times. It's not exactly Riven's idea of a good time. He feels some horrid mix of guilt and irritation whenever he looks at Terra, and Aisha glowers at him like his very proximity will end in her getting a suspension. He spends most of the time arguing with Stella, and trying (failing) not to look at Musa while Sky and Bloom stray the line between PDA and go get a room.
When he gets to the cafeteria and heads for the table, he's surprised, and maybe a little thrilled, to see that it's just Musa at the table.
She stands up as soon as she seems him.
"Good, the others just left. They wanted to have lunch out by the lake. Bloom has apparently ‘found a place’. C'mon, we can catch up."
He has no option but to follow her, and sure enough, half-way across the field is the whole merry-fucking-gang. Riven doesn't know how to feel. Sky could've texted, if his brain was capable of fathoming anything other than Bloom when she was nearby. Were they even going to invite him? Was he going to get to the cafeteria to see an empty table? They probably wouldn't have missed him anyway, he thinks bitterly.
And yet- Musa was there. Waiting.
He looks at her thoughtfully, and her eyes flash purple when she catches him. She winces. "It wasn't like that." She says, "they were caught up in the idea of going there. They weren't purposely trying to leave you behind."
Jesus Christ, can't she just-
"I'm sorry," she barrels on, as they fall into the same steps, almost caught up to the others. "I'm trying to respect your privacy and everything, I'm working on it- my control isn't great at the moment."
"You should work on that." He mutters.
Her shoulders slump dejectedly. "I know."
Well, fuck, he didn't mean to- he swallows hard. "I'm tanking my field training." He says, trying to ignore her look of surprise at this freely-offered information. "Great at everything else, but camouflage? The element of surprise? I'm struggling. It's hard. I also fucking hate it, so there's that."
She huffs out a small laugh. "I bet you just like the thrill of attacking someone face to face. None of that 'sneaking up on you' bullshit."
He grins before he can check himself, and she catches it, and smiles too.
"There you are!" Bloom calls excitedly, "c'mon, we're gonna use Stella's ring."
Riven hates to give Bloom props for anything- and it isn't because he doesn't like her, or anything like that- he's just reluctant to acknowledge anybody's good traits since they all seem so loathe to see any in him- but the lake is nice.
Large and leafy green, surrounded by trees and over-hung by the clear blue sky. There's a sunbeaten deck strutting proudly into the middle, and Aisha strips out of her clothes to reveal a swim suit, and in three great strides, dives in like a dolphin.
The rest of them stare after her in awe.
"Are you always wearing that under your clothes?" Riven asks, toeing off his shoes, watching as Aisha tumble turns and glides through the water like a dolphin. She smiles at him from the water, and he's surprised by the look of it on her face. For the first time, she looks relaxed. Stress-free. Content.
Bloom and Stella change into their swim suits, as he and Sky just strip down to their boxers. Bloom wolf-whistles, and Sky blushes.
Riven puffs his chest out, winking at Stella who scoffs at him. He turns to find Musa. She's shrugged off her coat and shoes, and is rifling through her bag in confusion. She's too pre-occupied to notice his abs. Riven tries not to take offence.
"I can't find my- oh shit." Musa groans, thumping her head. "I left it back in the fire circle."
"Oh! Don't worry, Musa," Terra says brightly, as she sits, fully-dressed, on the mossy bank, with a stack of books beside her. "You can sit this one out with me!"
Musa turns to her with a smile (that to Riven, looks fucking forced) just as Bloom and Sky jump in. They scream, splashing Stella who cannon-balls in after them. Riven watches Musa's face, can see the hidden longing in her eyes.
A part of him wants to tease her, entice her in by saying how much he wouldn't mind if they decided to go skinny-dipping instead, but he knows it ultimately wouldn't work. Instead, he reaches for his discarded black tee, and tosses it to her.
"Should be long enough to preserve your modesty," he says, going for casual and heading for the dock. "Considering you're such a short-arse."
Musa sticks her tongue out at him, but she eagerly turns to get changed and Riven plunges into the lake to resist the urge to watch.
The water is warm and licks at his skin as the sun beats down onto his shoulders. It's deep and he can't quite graze the bottom, and he's suddenly, a little stupidly, grateful for knowing Sky. Grateful that he gets to be here. He floats on his back, staring up at the sky and letting himself just bask in the moment. As the water laps in his ears, he can hear the others laughing, Aisha swimming, Stella screaming, and the sun warms red spots onto his eye lids, marvellous colours in the dark- so he opens them.
Just in time to see Musa standing on the dock.
Suddenly, all his attention is on her. Her long, tan legs on display, his tee, his t-shirt, tickling down past her hips, and she jumps.
Okay. Turns out it's not a leather jacket thing. Anything that's his looks good on her. He could look good on her.
He watches for her when she re-surfaces, as she joins in splashing Stella, and he waits, waits, waits, until- victory.
She swims over to him. A little way away from the group, to where he's treading water alone. The t-shirt clings to her and he wants to touch her and-
"Hey," she says, with wet hair and water droplets on her eyelashes. "Thanks for the tee."
He shrugs. "I'd rather you'd jumped in without anything on."
She hits him, but finally, finally, he gets her eyes on him. They linger, as the water rivets roll down the breadth of his shoulders, his chest, down to- her eyes flicker away, cheeks red.
"Don't be shy," he purrs, "I'm hot. It's not a sin to look. You're hot too. Dancer’s body. Bet you're flexible."
"Wouldn't you like to know?" She murmurs, before her eyes flash purple. He tries not to let it irritate him. He hates the violation of his privacy, but he knows she can't control it- but she turns away from him, and he follows her gaze to Terra, sitting balefully alone. "If I do what I'm gonna do," she whispers, and his heart trips up a little, at her whispering to him over the water, pulling him in closer. A secret just for the two of them. "Promise you won't tell anyone."
Riven grins. "I'm great with secrets."
Musa takes a breath, before she stares at Terra, face tense with concentration, eyes shimmering purple.
Riven turns to look at Terra expectantly. "You're mind-controlling her?"
"No." Musa mutters, still focused, "I'm just trying to increase her confidence, trying to-"
Terra looks up suddenly, and Musa hurriedly grabs Riven's arm to move behind him.
"The water does look good!" Terra calls, "is it warm?"
"Oh, it's lovely, Terra!" Musa hollers back, "you should come in!"
"Yes! Join us!" Bloom sings, from her position perched on Sky's shoulders.
Terra wavers. Riven can feel Musa's hand curled around his arm, her body against his back. "I don't have my costume!" She yells.
"You're wearing like five layers," Stella calls, "you can spare one."
Terra chews on her bottom lip, and Riven turns his head to whisper: "can't you boost it anymore?"
"I'm trying." Musa insists quietly, "I can't manufacture it. I can only enhance what's already there."
"Terra," Riven yells, startling her, "if you come in, I'll let you dunk me."
Sky bursts out laughing, and Terra giggles.
"Well, I can't resist that!" She says, getting to her feet. Riven turns away, looking down at Musa who's beaming up at him.
"Wow." She says, pressing her lips together to hide the glee in her tone. "That was very sweet."
"Fuck off." Riven mutters, but his eyes are on the collar of his wet tee as it clings to her skin. "I only did it because that was bloody painful to watch. By the way, is there anything else you can do with your powers that I should watch out for?"
Musa tips her head contemplatively. "Actually, yes." She lifts her hands and cups his face. He startles a little, at her fingertips against his jaw, before he sees her eyes purple and shimmer, and then suddenly, a weird emotion clouds into his head. It's familiar yet foreign, it's-
gratitude?
"It's meant to be gratitude." Musa says, when her eyes are back to normal and she's panting a little, "I'm not great at-"
"I got it." He reassures her, “I felt it."
She smiles, pleased, pushing away from him to swim further to the centre of the lake.
He watches her go, mind reeling. More powerful than he thought, though he's not sure why he's surprised. He can still feel her hands on his face. He wants to swim after her, but Terra and Sky corner him, eager to see him dunked.
3.
It marks a turning point for the group as a whole.
The afternoon at the lake has softened grudges, strengthened bonds, and Terra talks to him more over lunch. Aisha doesn't bore him so much, not now he can see her for more than a stuck-up rule-follower. He and Stella get along as well as they usually do, but their barbs seem less sharp than before. Bloom has always been pretty accepting, and Musa-
Well, she's Musa.
She's making him lose all sense of normalcy, of sanity, because that's the only reason he'd agree to this fucking slumber party.
"No, I think it was better over there." Sky says, changing his mind for the fourth time, as Riven struggles under the weight of the mattress. The entire floor is covered with pillows and cushions and Sky needs to make up his mind before Riven kills him. "No, no, you were right- put it back."
"Jesus," Riven groans, setting it down and spotting the stack of Disney Princess movies. "We're two guys about to sleep with five girls, and you're suggesting we watch Pocahontas?"
"They won the coin toss," Sky shrugs, "besides, I always liked the little hummingbird."
The girls arrive after Laurie, the RI for the floor, has done her final rounds. They shuffle into the room on tiptoes, and Riven closes it behind them, meeting Musa's eyes. Her hair's down and loose around her shoulders, and he's never seen it like that before. In her soft looking, cotton pyjamas, some rainbow sweater, she's more enticing than usual so he busies himself with the popcorn as Sky sets out the rest of the snacks.
"This is a nice set-up, guys," Bloom grins, getting comfy right in the middle. Sky joins her, and soon, the lights are off- bar Stella's glowing little ball- and everyone's shuffling into place.
Bloom and Sky are cosied up to one another, and Aisha and Terra are tucked neatly into one corner. Stella fancies herself above the ground, and lies on Sky's bed, half her attention on her phone.
Musa settles in the other corner, leaning against a mountain of cushions, and Riven debates for about half a second before he joins her.
"Hi," she whispers, sounding pleased, "wanna hear a sad story?"
Their thighs are touching. Her fleece pants are warm against his bare leg, and the cushions are ridiculously comfortable, and she looks so different with her hair down, her face almost obscured from him. "Sure," he whispers back.
She points are her bare feet. "I forgot my socks."
He snorts. "If that's your idea of a sad story-" he breaks off into a hiss when she cruelly presses her toes onto his shin. "Jesus, they're fucking ice." He complains, and she laughs, tossing a kernel of popcorn into the air and catching it perfectly between her teeth.
He reaches over her, feels her entire body stiffen and does his best to ignore it, opening one of his drawers and pulling out a pair of mis-matched socks.
She takes them gleefully, leaning down to pull them on. Her shirt rides up and he catches a glimpse of her lower back, and when she sits up- she catches him. Their eyes dart away from each other, and the first hour of Pocahontas is a stiff, awkward affair. The darkness seems to electrify the space between them and Riven's too afraid to move. Musa seems to be feeling the same way, but then Terra starts singing along with the song, and the the air relaxes a little.
Then, somehow, in Little Mermaid 2, Riven's oddly invested in Melody and her pull to the sea, when Musa sighs, sinking back further into the cushions, resting her body weight on Riven, looking completely content.
"You comfortable?" He teases, and she smiles lazily up at him, wiggling her toes in his socks.
"Very comfortable." She says, and he isn't thinking when he says:
"You're insufferably cute, you know that?"
He regrets it immediately, but it's slipped out, and Musa barely seems to notice his panic. She just yawns, and then she- she- rests her head on his shoulder, and her hair fans down over him, and tickles his arm.
He feels, suddenly, the rather vicious urge to protect her. He's on high-alert, for some reason, for any intruder, because she's here, half-asleep, resting against him. So trusting. So vulnerable, and-
The DVD menu chimes on repeat, and when Riven looks up he realises that everyone else is asleep, and Stella's orb of light has vanished into darkness, and that it's well past midnight.
Slowly, gently, he rests his cheek on Musa's head, feels the way they're tucked in together, and he closes his eyes.
4.
He's not sure how it happened.
How they can go one minute from a group of friends binging Disney movies, to out here, in the woods, watching Bloom's fucking fire wings and surrounded on all sides by Burned Ones. Real ones. Not projections.
The girls are all glowing, eyes burning, and there's splashes of water, tangling ivy, shooting flames, blinding light and Musa: shouting locations as she tracks them.
"Try to project lethargy!" Aisha screams, clutching one arm, as Sky slashes a Burned One along the chest.
Riven jams two sharp jabs into the torso of another, and growls over his shoulder. "She's already fucking tracking them, Aisha! Why don't you just water-board them some more?"
Musa doesn't mediate their bickering, just whirls and points and says "Another three over there, I can sense them. They want Bloom!"
Sky and Terra immediately run over to Bloom, who has fire burning along her shoulders, and it's so arresting a sight that Riven doesn't even notice when the Burned One crumbles into ash beneath him.
He doesn't notice when another hisses just to his left. He can't get his blade out in time, and it has one deformed hand around his throat, claws pricking into his skin when Musa's suddenly shoving him away, taking his place, and he just has time to notice, to scream- when she lunges forward, and stabs the monster in the chest. It howls, and she yells out in unison, her voice shaking with agony, a sound that'll haunt him.
The Burned One crumples, and Musa with it.
"Musa!" Stella cries, racing over, trying to get closer, but Riven blocks her, taking Musa's chin in his hands, tilting her face up. There are tears stained along her cheeks, and her eyes are still rimmed purple.
"I felt it," she gasps, clutching Riven's arms, still shaking, "I felt it die, I felt it-"
"It's okay." Stella insists, voice shaky, rubbing Musa's back. "You did amazing, you did so great."
Musa clenches her eyes shut. "I've gotta- I can feel more of them."
"Take a minute." Riven pleads, trying to catch his breath, feeling blood move sluggishly down his own neck. "Take a minute, you just fucking saved my life, you're allowed a goddamn minute."
His entire being seems to light up at the small, strained smile she gives him. Stella sees the smile too, so she shoots Riven a look that says keep going, moron.
He doesn't need her prompting. "And what a sexy knife move. Where'd you get that blade?"
This earns more of a laugh from her. Relieved and a little hysterical sounding, but a laugh nonetheless. She holds the blade up, and its blue handle glints in the moonlight. "Stole it from you." She says, and he wants to tell her it isn't the only thing she's stolen from him. She has everything he is in the palm of her hand, and she saved his life. She hands the dagger back to him, and he shakes his head.
"Keep it. You look hot with a knife in your hand."
Musa laughs again, still a little choked up, and the two of them help her to her feet. He doesn't want to let go for her, but she sniffles, nodding, so Riven just sticks close by the rest of the night.
They defeat the burned ones with minimal injuries. Aisha's leg is broken, and Terra's bandaged it as best she can, as they limp back to the school. Dowling and Silva meet them half way, overflowing with worry and gratitude, and at their insistence, Riven collapses into a bed in the infirmary as they tend to his neck.
They put Musa in the bed beside him, and he sees claw marks on her ribs, and it's a good thing the Burned Ones are dead, because it's the only thing stopping him from marching right out into that forest to have their heads.
5.
He's on his way back from the drinks table, two glasses in his hands, when he notices that Musa isn't there anymore.
Terra points to the back door. "She needed to step out. Mind fairy thing."
Riven nods, setting down the drinks and heading for the exit.
It's a warm summer night, and the air is humid, and Musa's standing out on the grass, gazing up at the stars.
She must feel his mental presence, because she turns and smiles.
He heads over to her, and she steps easily into the circle of his arms, and he holds her tightly.
Here they are. At the Alfea Ball, dating. Their three month anniversary is coming up soon, and Riven has something in mind. He's excited to see her reaction. But right now, he just basks in having her in his arms. She's a vision, in a lace-sleeved, indigo dress, her hair up the way he likes, and heels that mean she doesn't need to tiptoe to kiss him.
"Sorry," she murmurs, "got a little loud in there."
"I don't mind," he reassures, dropping a kiss onto her head. He feels her shiver, so he shrugs out of his tux jacket and drapes it over her shoulders. As pulls it around her, she looks up at him, soft and smiling, and his throat goes a little dry. "What?"
"Nothing," she shrugs, "you just look very dapper in your tux. I'm feeling it." Her hands slide up onto the plane of his chest, and he grins, nipping at her nose.
"Shall we get out of here, then?"
She hums in agreement, but tangles her fingers into his hair to pull him down for a kiss. As usual, the heat flares down to his stomach, and he pulls her tighter to his body.
"We should get out of here," he insists, kissing at her jaw, "or we'll definitely get suspended."
Musa laughs, and she leads the way back to the dorms.
Once there, he whispers, low and greedy into her ear, to take off everything but his jacket.
"Is this some sort of kink?" She asks delightedly, once his tux suit is the only thing on her gorgeous body, and she's straddling him, thighs spread over his, her fingers dragging through his hair.
"I don't know," he admits, even though he knows it's only a thing for him when she's involved. "I think I just look really good on you."
She bites his neck and scratches his down his back, and it hurts and he loves it, and she looks down at the marks like a satisfied kitten with tiger claws. "I look good on you too." She whispers, and he kisses her again.
And again.
And again.
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