#it's not meant to make sense. this was just me free handing stuff and just having fun ^_^ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

curtsycream · 3 months

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hiiiii

i saw your requests are open

Can you do poly price x reader x simon where they all get into an argument (Reader is lonely while they're deployed, she's not getting on their case, just expressing it) and the boys get really defensive and take it a little too far, resulting in reader staying in the guest bedroom for the night bc she doesn't wanna cry in bed next to them. The boys come to their senses and realize they fucked up and there's make up sex? Lots of reassurance and whispers of how much they love you?

Feel free to ignore, just figured I'd pop in :)

Could You Understand?

John Price x F!Reader x Simon Riley

My first COD request I hope I did right. I’m still getting down their personalities and such in writing but it’s a fun challenge. Kinda base level smut. Ps. Would never ignore ❤️

warning: mentions of anxiety (described?), light stomach bulging (I mention it twice I have a problem), double penetration, not proofread at all

Confrontation was never a strong point for her, the idea of accidentally starting a conflict made her cautious with her words. Nibbling at her lower lip she adds the final dish to the washer before closing it. Turning it on she leans against the counter with folded arms. Many times has this feeling of loneliness crossed her mind. Whenever they were gone it was a constant reminder of the fear she felt. She always found herself holding back the words. But it was as if a dam finally broke and she couldn’t help but let them spill.

Making her way into the living room she wraps her arms around herself. It was a first defense similar to showing a dog that you’re not a threat. Her eyes fall onto the two men she loved with all of her being. They sat together with the television on but it was clear they weren’t entirely focused on it. They spoke in rushed tones as if forgetting the rule of leaving work at work. It wasn’t much but it was enough to ensure they wouldn’t dwell on work-related stuff.

Clearing her throat she realized just how hard it was to speak up. It was an odd feeling as she usually found herself talking without much of an issue. When they turned to look at her the words felt stuck, unable to claw their way out of her throat. “We need to talk,” she finally uttered. The words felt hard and cold when she said them.

John was the first to speak though the way his eyebrows creased seemed to verify his confusion. “About what, sweetheart?”

The gruffness of his voice was enough to make her hold the subject off. To instead crawl into his lap and give him a kiss or two. But she knew that wouldn’t solve anything let alone reassure her.

Simon on the other hand said nothing but his eyes were focused on her. And that was enough, it was always the simple things with him. His attention was always undivided, “well..I’ve been thinking a lot while you were both deployed. I just feel alone, you know? It terrifies me knowing you’re both out there and not knowing if that’s the mission that will end with me living my life without you. I—I’ve spent so many nights worried about how or if you’ll make it back to me. Maybe I’m just thinking too much on this but I can’t help but think that way. It’s like my brain won’t allow me to think positively. Like there’s this sense of impending doom when nothing bad is really happening,” she explained.

It was silent for a moment that is until Simon scoffed, the sound seemed to echo in her mind. “And you think it’s any easier on our end having to leave you here? It’s not a friendly thought knowing we’re miles away while you’re here by yourself,” his tone was defensive. It was as if he assumed her words were to evoke a change or start an argument.

“I’m not denying that Simon, I just get so worried that-”

“We understand that you get worried sweetheart, but we can’t change our profession. We spend just as many nights worrying about whether we’ll make it back or not. We have to live through that not you,” John spoke up.

Whether he meant to or not his words seemed to cut her deeper. It was as if her attempt at getting through to them was blocked off by their defense. “I know I don’t have to live through that, but it still worries me when you leave this house. I feel so helpless for lack of a better word when I know you’re miles away and I can’t help.”

Simon shook his head, “how would you even help? You can’t help, you can barely help yourself.”

His words were sharp like that of a knife willingly piercing her heart. Maybe that’s why it hurts more hearing words like that from someone you love.

“I’m not trying to argue with either of you, I wanted to get my point across,” she said simply.

“Then why even bring this up, you always dance around what you’re feeling. We’re not mind readers, there is only so much we can do when you won’t even say what you feel. It’s exhausting,” The words left John's mouth without much of a thought.

Opening her mouth she closes it, her eyes flashing with hurt from their words. “I know you’re both probably just tired from your mission and that’s why you’re acting like this. Just forget I said anything,” she tells them.

She had walked away quicker than she meant to not wanting to say another word to them. She knew deep down if she had she would have started crying.

Placing her hands on her chest she holds back the tears that are brimming in her eyes. She holds off until she makes it into their guest room upstairs. The second she closes the door she lets out a low sob. Sitting down on the bed she wraps her arms back around herself. It was a horrible feeling as if she’d been yelled at. Having people you love downplay your emotions when you finally speak upon them.

Lying down on the bed she curls up her arms still wrapped around her. It was as if she was protecting herself from what was already done. Sobs racking her body as she found no use in calming down.

It wasn’t until they made their way upstairs later into the night that they realized. Simon assumed she would be in bed, their bed. Yet the absence of her presence in the room was like a punch to the gut. His eyes found John’s in the darkness as they stood in the space.

They didn’t have to think before they made their way towards the guest room. The door ajar allowing John to slowly push it open. There she was in the middle of the guest bed curled up. She looked smaller than she should have as if closing in on herself.

John to a step forward which turned into a few then a few more before he was sitting on the bed beside her. His hand cupping her cheek, wet with tears, “Sweetheart..” The utterances of the pet name seemed to work as her eyes opened slowly. Groggy from crying so much as well as sleep she stared at him. It was easy to tell that was what she was doing in the darkness. The tears not yet split made that easy to notice.

With crossed arms, Simon makes his way over to him, “We shouldn’t have—I should have said those things to you.”

She seemed to perk up, it was a first for Simon to say something like that. Not that she expected him to do so often but it was refreshing. “It’s fi-“

“It’s not fine, the things we said to you were uncalled for. You didn’t deserve any of that especially when all you wanted to do was express your feelings. We took our frustration from the mission out on you,” John told her. His thumb caressed her cheek a touch she leaned into without hesitation.

“You do so much for us even when you don’t think you do. Most don’t expect to be greeted at home with a smile and a warm meal. You do everything you can to make sure we’re okay. It’s time we do the same,” Simon says.

Sitting up a bit she looks between the two men with a puzzled look. She didn’t catch on until she had John’s lips on her own. The smell of tobacco and pinewood was strong as she wrapped her arms around his neck. It was comforting yet sensual as she felt Ghost behind her. His lips feverishly trailing kisses along her neck and shoulders.

Her mind seemed to move slower than her actions which was evident when she found herself naked between them. Her hands rested on John’s chest as he lined himself up with her sopping-wet hole. Eager wouldn’t describe what she was feeling especially when he finally thrusted into her. He was always attentive and careful at first, “how’s that feel, sweetheart?”

The words didn’t come but a simple nod followed by a moan was enough for him. Resting his hands on her hips he set a slow and steady pace. One that seemed to draw on the moans leaving her body. “Still so tight for me,” he grunted against her warm skin.

The gentle touch along her spine was enough to remind her of Simon’s presence. The way he was looking down at her caused her to squeeze around John’s cock. A swear left the older man’s lips due to the feeling. Keeping her eyes on Simon she spoke up, “want to feel you both..”

It was new territory something she hadn’t done before. But she wanted to be closer to them in a way soft touches wouldn’t do. “Are you sure, lovie?”

She nodded her head right away at Simon’s words as he seemed to be silently communicating with John. Looking between them she waited for an answer as John continued to thrust in and out of her.

“Okay.”

That was all Simon needed to say before she leaned against John. Her arms were around his neck while her fingers curled around the hair at the base of his neck. Simon held her hip as he pumped himself in his hand before lining himself up with her stuffed hole. It was already a tight fit with John’s cock inside. Willing himself forward he groaned when his cock began to slide inside of her pussy.

Digging her nails into John’s back she muffled her noises on his shoulder. “That’s it sweetheart, such a good girl wanting to take both of us.”

John’s words seemed to calm her down as she felt him pull out some to allow Simon room to fit. She wasn’t fully prepared when she felt both of them inside of her. Neither of them moved, letting her adjust to the new feeling. Resting her hand on her stomach she moved it a bit lower feeling the bulge there. The subtle reminder of just how big John was in girth.

“Oh—please move..” her voice was a gasp barely above a whisper. She had never felt so full before, but oh did it feel perfectly right. Moving his hands up to cup her breasts Simon thrusted into her. At the same time, John pulled out before slamming himself back in.

Groaning from the feeling of John’s cock rubbing against his own as her pussy squeezed them tightly left Simon on edge. “Feels so good,” he breathed the words out.

Her mouth opened letting out a flurry of moans as their paces varied. While John was moving steadily, Simon’s pace was almost erratic. “Fuck—just like that,” she begged no one in particular.

Yet her words seemed to set both men off as they moved in tandem. Their pace seeming to match both went faster pistoning their cocks in and out of her. “So good for us lovie, always so good for us.”

The words of affection caused her to whimper before she felt his lips on hers. The kiss was dragged out and slow only fueled by John’s lips on her throat. The light prickles of his beard on her skin were comforting in a way. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. Always so caring and sweet for the both of us,” John’s voice vibrated against her soft skin.

She knew she wouldn’t last long from their affectionate words to their unyielding thrusts. Breaking the kiss between herself and Simon she whines, “So close, please.”

“Please what, lovie?”

The teasing tone he took on made her clench around their cocks. The action caused both men to groan as their cocks rubbed against her gummy walls. “Please let me cum, I’ll be good..”

“You’re always good, sweetheart,” John assured.

“Go ahead, lovie.”

She didn’t need to hear more as her eyes screwed shut. Her mind felt fuzzy as the warmth in her lower stomach began to spread. Gripping John’s shoulders she let out a cry as she came around their cocks with a tremble. However, they didn’t stop not yet at least as they were chasing their highs. To her, it felt like minutes but it only took seconds before they reached their own. Gripping her hips firmly John thrusted his hips up before releasing inside of her. Simon wasn’t too far behind as his cum mixed with that of John’s and hers.

Sighing breathlessly she shifted her eyes to the bulge in her stomach she had forgotten about. She could still see the outline of John’s cock against her lower stomach. But it didn’t last long as she felt both men pull out of her. Leaning back on Simon she watched as John left the room. Her eyes were concentrated on his back before they trailed to Simon.

“Lovie I-“

Shaking her head she leans up her lips pressed against his shoulder. “I’m fine, I guess I just worry a lot when you’re both not here. It’s scary to think something can happen on a mission and I wouldn’t know for a while until the mission ends.”

Simon noticed how shaky her voice was as if the thought of them getting hurt lingered in her mind. Placing his hands on her cheeks he leaned forward until his nose was touching hers. “It is scary, I couldn’t imagine having to stay home and wait for us to return. But I can promise you this, with everything in us we will always try our hardest to get back home to you. That’s how much you mean to us,” his words melted into her mind.

Keeping her eyes focused on his own she nodded her head, “I know you guys will. You always do and I’m grateful for that.”

“And we’re grateful for you,” John chimed in as he walked back into the room. He went straight to her using the towel in his hand to clean her up before pressing a kiss to her stomach. “We will always be grateful for you, I couldn’t picture myself loving anyone else besides the two of you.”

It was comforting to hear words like that from the men she loved. “I love you,” she said her words directed to both men. Pulling her close Simon kisses her forehead as he lays behind her. In front of her was John who also delivered a kiss to her forehead. “I love you too, sweetheart. Don’t be afraid to tell us when you’re worried or scared. We promise to think before we speak,” John’s words reassured her.

The same way that Simon’s touch did as his thumb rubbed her hip. “I love you, now get some sleep it’s almost four in the morning.”

That was all it took before she was closing her eyes allowing the feeling of both men beside her to lull her to sleep. She felt safe and protected between them, no longer as fearful as she was before.

#poly!reader #x reader #fluff #poly fanfic #cod 141 #cod smut #cod x reader #john price #price x reader #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #simon riley smut #john price smut #ghost smut #captain price smut #poly 141

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zwedexx · 3 months

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AWFC x English-Italian Reader - Introduction

Summary: Reader is playing in a champions league game and get severely injured

TW: Injury?

WC: 645

A/N: Injury won the polls so injury it is. Nothing is proof read. The angsty and more serious stuff starts with the Chapters. Also this is my version of the Arsenal-Lyon game (December 15, 2022). I think the 1 or 2 next chapter will go from December 2022 to ~December 2023. Anyways, share your opinions and suggestions. Also requests are open and I'd really love to try my hand at requests so please submit some.

You joined Arsenal at a young age, 17 years old. You were a bombshell when you landed in the WSL. You might have grown up in England but you were Italian by birth and ancestry. You brought 3 Italian things with you, your defensive style, hand gestures and a last name no commentator could pronounce properly.

You quickly gained a reputation for being fearless LB, you weren’t necessarily a dirty player but you had being compared to Katie a few times. You were willing to make a risky tackle or sacrifice your body if it meant you’d stop a goal. You were never the tallest on the team, that distinction going to the Swedes and you weren’t the biggest but you had heart and stupidity.

Now here you were a full year, 4 goals, 5 yellows and 1 red later standing in the tunnel of a group stage champions league match against Lyon.

You felt this odd sense of nervousness, this was your first start in a champions league game but it was unusual for you. You were taken out of your thoughts when you felt Viv’s arms on your shoulders as she guided you out of the tunnel.

The match was quite uneventful for the majority of the first half, Lyon had some good chances and so did Arsenal. Your nerves had calmed down, you were focused. You had even stopped a breakaway from Malard.

Lyon’s best chance was in 45’+1. Bacha had a free kick from right before the halfway line. She passed it to Morroni then it came back to Bacha who launched the ball over the crowd. You had been tracking Gilles, the Lyon centerback, you knew she was excellent with her head and if it touched the ball it was sure to be a goal. You saw the ball fly over, hit Horan and go back up into the air. You jumped high, trying to reach the ball before Gilles can get a head to it and you succeeded. You felt the ball hit your head and you loosed up a bit, forgetting that the opposing player head was still in motion. Instead of heading the ball, Gilles collided with the side of your head. You feel a sharp excruciating pain, something you’d never experienced before then nothing. You were out.

“Y/N.” You could hear a faint sound of someones voice shouting your name.

“Y/N can you hear me.”

You tried to move, tried to open your eyes but you felt trapped in your own body. Nothing wanted to work. It’d take a few moments before you’d gotten some control back and you were able to open your eyes.

You were completely surrounded by medical staff, it was sort of overwhelming but you were able to spot the voice calling you, Leah. You could see the worry and panic in her face, you wanted to give her a smile or a sign that you’d be okay but it was hard enough to keep your eyes open. The medics were attempting to speak to you but their words were just faded noises and before they were able to finish you felt your eyes roll to the back of your head and you were out once more.

The next you remembered was machines beeping. This incessant beeping that made your head hurt each time it went off. Waking up this time was far easier, you had more control and you felt a little more awake.

“Y/N, for the love of god please tell me something. “ Leah had notice you’d woken up, Jordan had also been in the room but was asleep on the couch next to 4 other bags likely from other teammates that had stepped out.

“Y/N, can you understand me.” Leah asked again, hoping, praying for any response.

“Leah… What- What happened” you croaked out.

Leah face lit up from your response but there was pain behind eyes. You could see tears begin to well up.

“Too much, Y/N/N, too much.”

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taintedcigs · 8 months

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eddie w tattoo artist reader..... trying SO hard to seem like he's not dying from pain while she tattoos his chest, bc he's trying to impress her. she's the coolest girl he's ever seen and the fact that her art is on him forever makes him so giddy and happy, almost as happy as getting her number

call me if you need a groupie — e.m.

yes yes yes yes yes. a thousand times yes to this. thank u for this request omg i looooove lovesick cutie eddie soooooo much. this was meant to be a blurb but now its a 2.8k+ fic oops. idk if there were exclusive shirts ok i tried to do my research but this is the best i could get and idk how tattoo processes are so take everything i wrote w a grain of salt !! not proofread as always so ignore any mistakes and also idk why but i looved writing for this dynamic and if anyone would be interested i could write a pt.2 for some smut !! (maybe sub!eddie or switch!eddie? 👀)

pairing: eddie munson x fem!tattoo artist!reader (wc: 2.8k+)

warnings: MINORS DNI w any of my works!!. just pure fluff!! maybe the teeniest tiniest angst, eddie is kinda insecure <3, eddie is a lovesick cutie honey pie !! and swearing? oh also tattooing ofc (needles n stuff)

He doesn't mean to flinch, he doesn't mean to show you how stressed he is, but you can sense it.

Each time the needle presses against his skin, he hisses, mouth biting onto his lips, harsh enough to draw blood.

But Eddie doesn’t care, you—the hottest and coolest girl—that has ever graced the hellhole that was Hawkins was tattooing him, and Eddie couldn’t afford to look like a coward.

So with everything in him, he shut his lips, biting on them, becoming accustomed to the metallic taste because it didn’t matter, not when you looked so fucking pretty when cooing him and your free hand squeezed his biceps for reassurance.

He didn’t know what to admire first, the way your lips quirked sweetly when you answered his dumb questions, the way you looked so focused with your lip between your teeth, trying to tattoo him, or the fact that you were wearing an Anthrax shirt, and not just any regular Anthrax shirt that you could find at those regular shops, it was an exclusive shirt that was only sold at the concerts, and he had to gulp physically at that.

You were a tattoo artist… and a metal fan? How perfect could you get?

Before his questions were answered, the needle pricked at his skin again, he cursed out, and instead of screaming in his mind, he whimpered out loud this time.

Your head perked up quickly and Eddie was now cursing himself, for being a fucking idiot, for looking like a coward in front of you.

“I can slow down if you want to,” You said with a smile, a sweet smile that adorned your perfectly red lips, they looked so fucking kissable.

“N–no!” He stuttered, but you gave him a huff. “C’mon Eds, you’re doing good… better than anyone I’ve ever tattooed has, we can slow down a bit.” You reassured.

His eyes lit up like a child, Eds? His new acquired nickname rolled off your tongue so sweetly, your words dripped in honey. And Eddie decided he would do anything to hear you call him that again.

Not only did you call him Eds, but you also said he was better than the others, and the childish grin on Eddie’s lips was quick to grow again, his entire body relaxing as he almost melted into you.

“You think so?” He asked, tone giddy and all sweet, causing a pretty giggle to escape your lips.

“I know so!” You hummed. “Tattooed a guy yesterday. He was tall. Like really fucking tall, and he had this long beard and tattoos everywhere!” You exaggerated, watching Eddie’s eyes widen. “He cried like a baby the second that needle prickled his skin!”

“And look at you, taking everything I’m giving you like a champ,” You winked.

If only you knew the affect you had on him, Eddie’s entire face grew red at that, he would, without hesitation take anything you gave him.

He tried, so fucking hard not to think about it, but now his mind was filled with the images of you, sitting on his faze, your pretty cunt glistening as he lapped away at your juices.

He imagined those pretty manicured fingers discarding his hair, ruffling while those pretty little lips were hung open, chanting his name. Your whines and whimpers would fill the room as he begged for you to cum in his mouth. He wouldn’t stop until you smothered him.

Until all he could taste was you.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, because the blood was quick to rush to his cock, and he didn’t want to have his bulge hardening against his tight pants anymore than he needed to, you were inches away from him and he wanted to seem cool–so fucking badly.

“Really?” He asked, and you nodded swiftly. “So brave for me.” You coo, lips lightly brushing against his cheek, as you plant a little kiss.

And Eddie was sure this was heaven now, he blinked quickly to make sure he wasn't dreaming, the light kiss you left on his cheeks lingered, and he could feel it burn.

His cheeks were purely crimson red now, he couldn't fucking help it. He ached for you, ached to have you close to him, ached to feel your touch, and everything you did was enough to drive him crazy, make him feel out of his fucking mind.

He was putty in your hands and you had no fucking idea.

His mouth stood agape, a dumbfounded look overtaking his features for too fucking long until the soft buzz of the machine brought him back again, the needle quick to puncture the skin's surface again, causing Eddie to squeeze his eyes shut as he tried his best not to fucking scream.

Be cool, be cool, be fucking cool Edward Munson.

He repeated it like a mantra in his head, and he was glad you were focusing on tattooing the cute sketch you made for him, and not his actual face that probably looked straight out of a horror movie.

“So—uh... c—cool shirt,” Eddie muttered, voice so low that he was surprised when you hummed back at him.

“Oh, yeah,” You muttered.

“You listen to Anthrax?” You asked with a beaming smile, gaze still focused on Eddie's arm.

Eddie huffed painfully but realized quickly that the nervousness of talking to you was overpowering the pain of the tattoo gun drilling into his skin.

“Are you kidding? Anthrax, Judas Priest, Black Sabbath... Megadeth! You name it I probably listen to it,” He hummed, and your eyes glimmered, causing Eddie's breath to hitch and his wavering nervousness to appear again. “Metal is my jam, baby!” He exclaimed, not too loud to disturb your tattooing process but loud enough to cause a giggle out of you.

Metal is my jam? Baby? Who the fuck says that?

Eddie was afraid to look into your eyes now, afraid to see the gaze everyone gives him.

Like he's an outsider like he's a freak.

But when he hears that pretty giggle of yours again, comfort takes over him, nervousness dissipating quickly when he sees the gentle look you give him.

Almost as if to let him know that you also love those bands. Almost as if to let him know that he wasn't an outsider because you were just like him.

“Dio?” You asked with a curious gaze, face beaming up when Eddie nodded furiously.

“Fuckin' love Dio,” He muttered, barely realizing the needle on his skin now, all thanks to you.

“Uhh—how did you even get that shirt?” Eddie asked, almost shyly, admiring the way you were neatly tattooing him.

“I wanted to go to that concert so badly but the tickets were sold out so quickly.” He added.

“Oh! I was Belladonna's groupie,” You muttered mindlessly, the pain as you prickled the needle was an afterthought to Eddie now, almost forgetting how to breathe, he coughed, quite loudly, causing you to look up at him and see the bewildered look on his face.

You stopped the machine when you chuckled lightly, "Oh, Eds!"

There it was, that nickname again, god you were dizzying his mind.

“I was just joking,” You smiled at him, and he wanted to melt, right then and there. "Needed to go a little bit deeper so I thought I'd distract you," You shrugged, and Eddie returned the smile.

He liked the feeling of having someone care about him, he liked talking to you, and he sure as hell enjoyed being with someone so similar to him—someone so fucking cool.

“Though I did go to that concert in 1987.” You could feel Eddie’s curious gaze on you

“My friend knew their manager,” You murmured again.

"Really?!? How was it?" He asked, face beaming again.

“So fucking cool.” You gushed as you started talking about their set list, how the first punch you ever threw was at that concert, and you enthusiastically animated Donais' guitar riff, earning a hearty chuckle from Eddie. He loved every bit of your story, listening attentively as your exaggerations enticed him more and more.

The longer you tattooed him, the more comfortable Eddie got, pain was no longer his main concern when all he wanted to do was make you laugh, hear that sweet giggle escaping from your lips, admire the way your eyes crinkle when you smile at him so sugary.

Minutes stretched into hours as you focused on his tattoo, each pass of the needle causing a smile on your face as the sketch you made became more intricate and alluring on his bare skin.

“All done!” You exclaimed with a smile when you finally finished tattooing him, a sigh of relief escaping your lips when the buzz of the machine was finally replaced with silence.

You couldn't help but trace every part of his face now, you wanted to see if he liked it, anxiety bubbling up in your stomach as you couldn't read Eddie's expressions.

“Oh my god,” Was all that left Eddie's lips, and your lips almost started to tremble.

Jesus fucking Christ, how bad did you fuck up?

“Oh my fucking god,” He repeated again, this time his head tilted upward to your direction, almost snapping as you looked at him with scared eyes.

But your gaze eased the second you saw the admiration in Eddie's gaze. “This is a fucking masterpiece!” He beamed, causing a smile on your lips, so fucking big and pretty that he wished he could have that tattooed instead.

“It's fucking perfect,” He muttered again, shaking his head in disbelief when he looked at the tattoo on his forearm.

“I mean when I saw that sketch, I knew you were good to , but holy shit,” He praised again, causing heat to grow in your cheeks, he had no idea how much it meant to you, to have someone appreciating your art, to have people walk around in the sketches you did, indelible on their skin. It felt so fucking good.

“It's...perfect.”

“Really?”

“Of fucking course,” He gushed. “You're so fuckin' talented it's crazy,” He muttered, fingertips gentle as they avoided glazing through the tattoo, but around it.

You were so fucking perfect it was killing him, and he couldn't help the giddy feeling inside of him knowing that your art would be etched into his skin, forever.

You couldn't shake off the thoughts in your head, swirling when Eddie uttered those compliments to you.

Your cheeks grew hot so quickly that you felt the need to turn around, trying to think of something to say to him so that you wouldn't look like a fucking idiot.

Eddie turned around to face you, the smile that brought out his dimples apparent in his face as he watched you scrabble something on a business card.

“Thank you,” You muttered when you turned around, hands almost shaking as you extended your arm to give Eddie the card.

He scrambled it into his back pocket, not caring when you were this close to him, but you frowned at that. “No, thank you, for this masterpiece” He winked, pointing toward his forearm.

He didn't even know where he got the confidence to even be able to wink at you, and his coolness wore off the second he exited the shop, a silent shrieking scream exited his mouth as he freaked out.

Your sketch. On his arm.

You. Tattoo artist. Metal fan.

You, kissing him on the cheek, talking to him for hours, laughing at his idiotic jokes.

You.

Eddie was sure he lost his mind, hands shaking as he reached for the card in his back pocket.

The card was black and the title on it was dripping with blood. He whined.

How much cooler were you going to get?

He gulped when he looked back, seeing you toward the clear glass door, and he knew.

He knew that if he didn't do it now, he could never do it, this was his only fucking chance, and he couldn't be a coward, not now, not when you were this close to him.

Eddie entered back into the shop in a frenzy, causing your head to pop up swiftly as you looked at him dumbfounded.

God, you were so gorgeous he could feel his heart skip a beat.

“C—can I ask you something?” He cleared his throat to not appear nervous, and you nodded, furiously.

“Look, I know this is weird and all... but... uhm, I really feel like we connected,” He muttered, fingers tapping against the glass counter that you were standing behind in.

“And I thought maybe... uhhh... I could like—get your number or somethin'?” He uttered anxiously, tilting his head slightly to the side, and you couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips.

And even though why you laughed was reasonable, it was the worst fucking thing you could have done to Eddie.

Especially when your laugh seemed so mocking, almost different than the ones you gave him earlier before. Jogging deep into this memory of the countless times when Eddie tried to pluck up the courage to ask girls in his class out, only to be laughed in his face, or to have them insult him.

But this was more than that, it pained him.

It pained him to think that you thought of him like the others did. Like you saw him as an outsider, too.

His bubble of confidence that was already wavering was even quicker to fizzle out, he could feel that familiar lump in his throat, shoulders slumping as his gaze was quick to show his emotions.

He was hurt. And he was sure this hurt much more than a thousand needles breaking the barriers of his skin, “Uhhh,” He gave you a bitter chuckle. “Just.... never mind” He added, defeatedly turning back around to exit the shop once again as he ignored you calling out for him.

“Wait!” You yelled out after him, but Eddie started walking faster.

“Shit shit shit!” You cursed yourself for your little joke.

“Eds, please!” You called out again, this time effective enough to make Eddie stop in his tracks.

Eds. Oh you knew how to get him hooked, how to get him right where you wanted him.

And he hated himself for being this weak for you, someone he met, just recently.

“What?” He answered coldly, glaring at you with bitterness that made you want to hide out, that gentle soul in him disappearing in mere seconds.

And you sighed, hating that he could ever see you as someone that would make fun of him.

“Flip the card,” Your gaze on him was intense, cheeks growing hot again knowing that you were going to see his reaction to your stupid note.

“I don't have time for your bullshit” He spat, almost on his feet to leave.

You sighed. “Eds, just... will you just please flip the card?” You asked, all prettily that Eddie couldn't help but oblige, but be gentle with you again because he couldn't resist it. He couldn't resist you.

He huffed as he plucked the card out of the back pocket of his jeans, turning it over in one swift motion.

'CALL ME IF U NEED A GROUPIE' and your digits were attached right below it.

His gaze softened immediately, head drooping further as he huffed at himself.

He felt stupid, so fucking stupid.

Why did he ever think you would treat him like the others?

His chest expanded with hope when he looked back up at you, a soft smile graced his lips.

“Oh,” He muttered, not able to help the childish grin that was now stuck to his lips.

“Shut up,” You giggled, nudging him slightly.

“You owe me,” You narrowed your eyes sarcastically, causing his brows to quip.

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” He asked, a newfound confidence washing him over when you were so easy to talk to.

“A date,” You beamed, scrunching your nose.

“Okay.” The words left his lips quickly, too quickly that it had you feeling giddy inside.

“How about tomorrow?” He didn't even know how he managed to get those words out without stuttering.

“Uhm—sure.” You were the one stuttering now, cheeks burning up as you could barely look at him. His grin was sickly inviting.

“I'll pick you up at 8?” You nodded so quickly that you were sure your head was about to fall off.

“See you tomorrow,” His voice was sultry as he winked again, making you almost melt, looking cool on the surface when all he wanted to do was go home, freak the fuck out, tell Wayne all about the cool girl who tattooed him, and not be able to sleep until your date tomorrow.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x tattoo artist!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine

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toomuchracket · 1 month

Text

if you're too shy, part 2 (office nerd!matty x reader fluff)

remember those gigs you and matty got scheduled to cover in part 1? yeah. this is them. enjoy <3

“hey.”

matty's curls bounce as he looks up at you quickly. a mild sense of guilt gnaws at your ribs when you realise you've spooked him, but it dissipates when he smiles, visibly relaxing when he realises it's you breaking him from his concentration. “oh, hi. you alright?”

you nod, gesturing to the vacant desk next to his. “am i ok to sit here?”

“yeah, of course. no need to ask. here, let me,” matty slides his notebook out of your way; as you lay your laptop down and sit, you can see him biting back a beam from the corner of your eye, and your heart flutters. “was there anything you needed, or…? not that there has to be, you know,” he sits up straight, apology settling itself on that gorgeous face of his. “i didn't mean it like that, i just meant-”

“no, i know, matty,” you smile softly. “there is, incidentally, but also i just wanted to sit next to you.”

there he goes with the blushing again - honestly, you reckon you could make a fortune if you bottled and sold the colour of matty's cheeks when you fluster him. although, you suppose, maybe the colour is only appealing because of whose face it's on.

said face is grinning at you again. “well, feel free, anytime.”

“likewise.”

“i'll take you up on that,” matty's smile gets impossibly wider, before he catches himself and controls it a little. “so, what is it that you need from me?”

the sloppiest kiss known to man. “advice, actually,” you put your glasses on, preening internally at the way matty's breath catches in his throat as you do, and open spotify on your laptop. “where should i start with this band we're going to see twice this weekend?”

matty's face brightens even more - impossible, you'd have thought. “oh. well, do you know any of their stuff already?”

you shake your head. “very bad of me as a music journo, but no,” you smile cheekily. “this is my first time. need you to talk me through it.”

the way matty coughs and tries to pass it off as him clearing his throat at your words is delicious. to be fair to him, he recovers quickly, the only sign of him being flustered the way his cheeks periodically twitch into a smile and back down again. “alright, so… i think i’d probably start with their second album - can i?” at your approval, he slides your laptop closer to him and scrolls down the band’s spotify profile to find the album in question. “their first is good, yeah, but the second one is where they really start to define their musical identity…” he trails off, covering his mouth.

you blink in concern, leaning into him. “you okay, matty?”

“yeah, i just,” he sighs, then giggles into his hand. it’s maybe the best thing you’ve ever heard. “i realised i was starting to sound a bit like patrick bateman.”

“oh my god,” you snort, covering your own mouth as you laugh. “christ, you were. was this band’s early work too new-wave for your tastes and all?”

“little bit. i think their undisputed masterpiece is album two - literally a personal statement about the band itself,” matty smiles, then winces. “that was embarrassing.”

you shrug. “nah, i like that film. and not just because i think christian bale’s fit in it.”

“i was gonna go as him for halloween this year, actually,” matty says, nonchalantly scrolling through spotify again. “would that be weird?”

fuck. matty in a suit? potentially covered in blood? you have to readjust the way you’re sitting at the mere thought. so, naturally - “i think you should do it.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” you smile, matching matty’s. “i’d enjoy it, at least.”

“that’s all the convincing i need,” he smiles sweetly at you, then gestures to the laptop. “so, d’you wanna know a bit about their influences before you listen?”

“go on, then.”

“alright,” matty shuffles his chair closer to you; you sit up slightly straighter as goosebumps pass over your body, increasing tenfold when he looks directly into your eyes. from this close, his are warmer than you initially realised, and you have to work extremely hard to focus on what he's saying instead of drowning in them. “to be fair, you weren't totally far-off with the new-wave joke - their music is rooted in post-punk subculture, but more along the melodic, jangly-guitar, early eighties type. you know aztec camera, yeah? convinced i saw you wear a high land, hard rain shirt to work once.”

the butterflies nesting in your stomach flutter at his recollection. “yeah, that's right. same vibe as them?”

“kinda. similar to a lot of scottish and northern bands of that era. which is weird, considering they're all about thirty and from fucking newark.”

“i see,” you nod, smiling at the way matty's twirling one of his curls. “any springsteen influence, then? not to stereotype, but… eighties-inspired music by people from new jersey? seems like there could be connection.”

matty nods enthusiastically. “yeah, great question. i mean,” he puffs air through his lips quite adorably. “lyrically, yeah, and they have quite prominent sax parts in some of the songs that are quite e street band. but the inspiration seems to be mostly melodic post-punk. does that all make sense?”

you smile, leaning on your elbow. “yeah. you're very good at explaining things. i like that about you.”

“really?” matty blushes again. “sometimes i worry that i'm just talking shite, to be honest. i know i've got a tendency to ramble a bit, always have. it annoys people, i think.”

“not me. you're always talking about something interesting. makes me feel good to talk to you.”

he clutches his hands into sweater paws again, smiling. “same. you're a sweet one, i think. m'excited that we're working a bit closer now.”

“nobody else i'd do this with, matty,” you hold out your hand, and squeeze his when he lays it atop yours; a perfect fit, you note. “you're my favourite.”

he genuinely looks like he could cry, softly rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand and speaking even softer than that. “likewise, darling.”

for a second, you do nothing but beam at each other, still tentatively holding hands; it's only when your laptop pings with an incoming email that you break out of your reverie and apart. matty clears his throat. “would you like to know which order i recommend listening to the albums in?”

“please.”

he nods. “the second, then the most recent - which is the fifth, by the way. after that, i think i'd probably say… first, third, and fourth last. that one got a bit experimental, i doubt they'll play anything from it at either of the shows. d'you want me to just make a playlist of that order for you, while we're here?”

“oh, yes please,” you watch him do just that, a slight sense of longing settling itself in your bones when you think of a playlist so sorely him settled amidst all your favourite songs; actually, it gives you an idea. “i've got a final question for you, if that's okay, matty. well, technically two.”

“yeah?” he turns to look at you again, eyes disarmingly caring and focused on you.

“what's your absolute favourite song by the band? doesn't have to be the objectively best one, and you don't have to tell me why. m'just curious.”

matty smiles, the sun breaking through clouds. “that's easy,” he scrolls down the new playlist. “this one. that's my favourite.”

“alright,” you drag it to the top of the song list. “then that's the one i'll start with. and then i'll go onto the matty-approved listening order,” pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose, you turn to face him. “that sound alright?”

“mhmm,” matty nods vigorously again, wild hair bouncing all over the place; a curl falls over his eye, and he brushes it away before peering up at you through his enviously-long lashes. “meant what i said earlier, you know. i really do think you're incredibly sweet.”

“thank you,” you all but whisper, doing your best to cover your own blushing. “um - what was i saying?”

he smiles. “you had another question, i think?”

“right, yeah. um,” your throat goes dry with sudden nerves, and you try to swallow as inconspicuous as you can to make it better. twisting your fingers together, you look down at them as you speak. “i've still got a restaurant review to do this weekend, and i was wondering if you, like, wanted to go for dinner before saturday’s show? that italian, near camden road station? and you can say no, of course, no hard feelings, but,” you can feel your cheeks burning as you tentatively look up at him. “i'd just like to hang out with you a little bit longer this weekend. i like spending time with you.”

“oh,” matty breathes, blinking as if he can’t quite believe he isn’t dreaming - you hope that’s the reason, at least. he bites his lip, cheeks rosy as he looks up at you with a smile, and nods. “yeah, i’d love that. thank you.”

“thank you, for agreeing,” you exhale, nerves replaced by tingling excitement. “is half four too early? that would give us time to eat, and walk to the roundhouse before doors, yeah?”

“that works for me,” matty nods. he twirls his hair again. “d’you want to just meet at the restaurant? cos that’s the station i’d get off at, camden road. but i don’t mind meeting you off the tube, if you like.”

“no, no, it’s alright. i’ll just get you there - i’m not gonna make you brave the high street when you don’t need to,” you giggle. “especially on a saturday afternoon, christ.”

he huffs out a laugh, but his eyes are tender - so is his voice, when he replies. “alright. i’d do it for you, though, no complaints.”

you believe him. you aren’t sure if you’ve ever seen someone look so sweetly sincere, and it’s fucking your brain up. big-time.

still, you hold it together long enough to reply. “you’re cute, healy, even if i think you’re a bit mad for offering to walk through camden just to get me,” you giggle at the way his jaw drops at the compliment. “you can get me at angel on friday, though, if you fancy? makes sense, if you’re already walking down from highbury.”

“i’ll be there at six,” matty smiles. “i’m excited to hear what you think of the band, you know. i think you’ll like them.”

“well, if you do, then i’m sure i will. you’ve got good taste,” you gather up your laptop and stand, turning to matty with a flirty grin. “speaking of - i like that jumper. you look hot in red, matty. really hot. anyway,” you bite back a grin at the little gasp he lets out. “thanks for all your help, lovely.”

“anytime!” he calls after you when you turn to walk away, deliberately swinging your hips slightly more than usual - you’re convinced you hear a muffled “fuck” before he speaks properly. “and, um, thanks for, y’know, liking my jumper.”

you look over your shoulder and wink, happiness bubbling through your body when you notice matty shifting his gaze from your ass to your face so hastily it’s a wonder his neck didn’t snap. “friday at six, yeah? don’t be late.”

“i won’t!”

and he’s true to his word - when you come up the escalators at angel station at five minutes to six on friday, matty’s leaning against the wall opposite you. he grins, a big toothy eye-crinkling smile that has your heart doing backflips, and waves as you walk over to him. “hi! i like your jacket.”

“oh, thank you,” you self-consciously touch the fluffy collar. “have you been waiting long?”

“not really. ten minutes?”

“that’s not too bad. shall we?” you wander out into the chilly evening air, matty matching pace beside you. “you ever been to a show here before?”

“yeah. what a fucking weird venue,” matty steps closer to you to avoid being run over by a bike, and your heart flutters; you’re actually sad when he moves away. “i like it inside, but-”

“the fact it’s literally in the middle of a shopping centre is insane?”

“completely mental.”

“a really strange bit of urban planning,” you smile, turning to him as you wait at a set of traffic lights. “i listened to the playlist you made me, by the way. even learned some of the words.”

matty laughs. “you like them, then? that’s good. knew you would, though.”

you nod, fighting the urge to grab his hand as you cross the road. “played your favourite song about ten times on loop. i had no idea it was going to end up being a love song, by the way…”

“yeah, the title’s a bit misleading.”

“...but it really works. i can see why it’s your favourite,” you gently nudge your shoulder into his arm. “like i said the other day, you’ve got good taste.”

he looks down at the pavement, smiling, then at you. fuck, he’s so cute. “so do you, darling,” he says, voice so soft you can hardly hear it over the bustle around you. “i really like your outfit.”

the hour spent upending your entire wardrobe onto your bed to pick it out was absolutely worth it. “thank you. i figured, y’know, since i’m technically not working,” you smirk at him. “i’d make the effort for going out. tomorrow, though, when i’m on-shift? not a chance.”

“you’ll still look great, i reckon,” matty says, easy as breathing; ironically, the ease of his words practically stops your own breath. “and yeah, i s’pose you really aren’t working tonight. when was the last time you went to a gig just for fun?”

“it’s been a while,” you admit. “and i miss it, actually, getting to just experience new artists without having to analyse and critique them. that’s part of the reason i’m excited to be going tonight.”

“i get that,” matty nods as you turn into the venue entrance. “and what’s the other part?”

you grin. “the fact i’m going with you.”

once again, matty blushes. “if you keep throwing me off with compliments the whole night, i literally won’t get any work done. but thank you. m’glad you agreed to come with me tonight.”

“i’m glad you asked,” you turn to him once you join the line to get in. “and you’ll get your work done, don’t worry. i promise to be good.”

for the most part, you actually succeed at that, and it’s largely due to how bloody good the band are. for all the venue is in a weird place, it really is a decent one - it’s so intimate that even you, who only started listening to the artists onstage this week, feel like a proper part of it. and, free of note-taking responsibilities, you can allow yourself to be made giddy by the coloured lights and loud melodies, to dance as best you can on the sticky floor, to sing along to the scraps of lyrics you recognise and join in the backing vocals with the rest of the crowd. that was always your favourite part of a concert, the moments where hundreds of voices just worked as one, identities dropping and merging to prioritise the music; it’s nice to be in it, for once, rather than doing your best to observe and capture and convey it in words. you leave that to matty, and mostly leave him be aside from the odd smile and laugh, always responded to warmly by him.

that is, until they play his favourite song, and the boy beside you becomes impossible to ignore.

the singer says something about this being the last song of the night, before beginning the now-familiar melody on his guitar. matty’s head snaps up at the first few notes, and his notebook snaps shut; you turn to him at the noise, smiling at the excitement on his face, even more radiant than usual under the pink lighting. he looks at you with a matching smile, curls bouncing as he nods along to the music, before turning back rapt towards the stage. you follow suit, soaking up the lyrics about wanting and yearning and falling fast for someone - hearing those words with that person beside you sends goosebumps shooting across your skin and sparks through your nervous system, the same kind of kinetic energy crackling in the space between you and matty. it’s so strong you have to uncross your arms, stretching your fingers out by your side. mortifyingly, they brush against the back of matty’s hand, and the sparks become shockwaves; not so much born out of fear, but of the same kind of longing the singer is musing about. he doesn’t seem to mind the contact, hand staying put despite it, and something in your brain just says fuck it and snaps.

tentatively, more so than you think you’ve ever been before, you loop your fingers around matty’s, and you hold his hand. and, quite honestly, nothing has ever felt quite so right as this. the shockwaves in your nervous system fade to a gentle hum, kinda like the reverb from the speakers, with only a tiny jolt when matty gently squeezes your hand in response.that’s how you stay for the rest of the song, hand-in-hand facing the stage, both of you - unbeknownst to the other - smiling contentedly and mouthing the lyrics to the song you relate to.

it lasts a sickeningly short amount of time, though - as soon as the song ends, you and matty are all but pulled apart by a group of kids running towards the stage, shouting about setlists and drumsticks and god knows what else. matty chuckles, walking backwards towards the exit so he can talk to you. "that was good.”

“yeah,” you agree, although you’re not sure what he’s specifically referring to. “liked it a lot.”

“me too.”

there’s comfortable silence as you weave your way out of the venue and onto the street. you turn to say a reluctant goodbye to matty, but he beats you to it. “i’ll walk you to the station.”

“are you sure? you’ve got a bit of a walk in the other direction, matty.”

he shrugs. “it’s a nice night. i don’t mind.”

“cool,” you do your best to keep from smiling at the thought of an extra five minutes with him. “thank you.”

“s'alright,” matty smiles, leading the way down the street. “i've had a lot of fun tonight.”

“yeah, same here. they're really good!”

“aren't they? i'm excited to see their set tomorrow, see how it compares,” he hums happily. “i think this is gonna turn out to be a really good article, you know.”

“so do i,” you beam at him. “and i must say, i'm enjoying the process for this one much more than i have in a while.”

he giggles, and you have to fight the urge to hold his hand again. “well, if you think about it,” matty rubs his thumb over his bottom lip quite attractively. “it makes a lot more sense for us to do gig reviews together. music is something to be shared, after all, and live music especially, and so are our reviews - we probably get a better sense of it all if we're not by ourselves, don't you think?”

you don't even bother trying to hide how enamoured you are when you look at him. “i love the way your brain works, matty.”

“oh, shush,” he clutches the sleeves of his jacket over his hands, but beams anyway; it drops from his face when he notices the tube station sign up ahead. “well, i suppose this is where i leave you.”

the melancholia in his voice makes your heart sink. “yeah, i guess,” you sigh. “but not for long, though.”

“true,” matty's face brightens, and he reaches to take your hand and squeeze it gently. “thanks for coming, darling. i had a lot of fun.”

“thank you for having me,” you squeeze his hand in return, smiling at the way he looks down at your connected fingers in wonder. “text me when you get home?”

“of course. you too, please.”

“i will,” you let go of matty, pausing before you turn to walk away; quicker than your brain can convince you otherwise, you lean up to press a kiss to his soft cheek, before winking at his dazed expression and turning towards the station. “see you tomorrow, lovely.”

“bye,” comes the soft, delayed reply. you turn back to wave once you reach the escalator, then smile giddily to yourself the whole way home.

in fact, you don't think you stop smiling giddily for the rest of the night, or the next day; just the knowledge that you're going to see matty again keeps you in a state of sunniness, has you dancing around the flat and serenading your dog, who just looks at you like you're insane. a tiny part of your brain agrees with her, but how can you be expected to help it? you haven't been this excited to go on a date with someone in a long, long time.

well, it's not a date, officially. but walking into a dimly-lit italian restaurant with matty in tow, him taking your jacket and pulling your chair out for you like a perfect gentleman? it fucking feels like it. you wish it was.

even more so when he takes his own jacket off, revealing A) a short-sleeved shirt in the same colour of red you told him he looked hot in the other day, worn slightly open over a white tank; B) almost-unbelievably muscular arms; C) tattoos littered up said arms, and one on his chest just peeking out suggestively.

jesus fucking christ.

you can’t help but stare at matty, mouth agape, as he sits down. he giggles nervously when he notices. “what?”

the words leave your mouth before you can even think about stopping them. “matty… do you know how hot you are?”

he does the adorable blinking thing again. “you think i’m hot? me?”

“um, yeah, i have eyes,” you giggle, cheeks burning. keep it together, you stupid slut. “i didn’t know you had all those tattoos, actually. why don’t you show them off more?”

matty shrugs. “sometimes, people think if you have lots of tattoos, you’re like, i don’t know… scary, or unapproachable,” he opens the drinks menu. “that’s not the impression i wanna give off, you know? especially at work. like, you know me, i’m quite soft and quiet. i just think the tattoos look sick.”

god, you want to eat him alive.

“i understand,” you nod, leaning on your elbows. “and i also think they look sick. kinda sexy, i’d say, to be honest. anyway,” you bite back a smirk at matty’s flustered expression. “what sort of drink are you in the mood for?”

“oh, well… i don’t know, actually,” matty scans the menu, then meets your eyes. “i’m new to this sort of reviewing. what do you usually do first? talk me through it,” he must mistake your wide eyes after his last statement for horror, instead of slight arousal. “please.”

“okay. can i see the menu, please? right, fab, thanks,” you hold it open so you can both see the drinks list. “shit, this is extensive… reasonably priced, would you say?”

“for this part of london? yeah.”

“i agree. right,” you look at him, and the concentration with which he looks back almost throws you off. “because we haven’t picked out food and don’t know about flavour palettes yet, i’d avoid wine for the time being. anything too flavoured, actually - i reckon our best bets are either some sort of fairly neutral cocktail, or a spirit and clear mixer. you know, vodka soda, a g&t, that kind of thing.”

matty nods. “makes sense.”

“yeah. the exception to all of that, in my opinion, is champagne,” you smile. “but if i start drinking it, i won’t want to stop, and if i kick the arse out of this meal on the work credit card then marianne will kick mine, so…”

he laughs, and the warmth of it goes straight to your stomach. “classy girl,” he smiles, laughing even harder when you make a face. “well, i think you are. and,” he points at the menu. “i also think we should have negronis.”

“nice. alright, let’s move on to food,” you open another menu. “oh, thank god we came here so early - this decision might take me a while. sorry.”

matty smiles, the tenderness in his eyes only exacerbated by the flickering candlelight. “that’s alright, darling. we’ll take all the time you need. well,” he winces. “maybe keep it within the two and a half hours we’ve got until we need to leave for the gig. although i s’pose we could stay here another fifteen minutes if we got a taxi.”

you wave insouciantly. “we’ll be on time. and you’ll have fun, too. promise.”

“oh, i don’t doubt that.”

and you really do have fun, despite having to constantly remind yourself that you’re not on a date and are in fact at work. the two negronis you each have over the course of the meal continue to coax matty out of his shell - and thus, get you to fall even harder for him than you already have, which to be honest you didn’t think was possible after seeing his tattoos - to the point where he’s affectionately taking the piss out of you for stealing forkfuls of his dinner “for journalistic purposes”. but, all in all, he’s completely fascinated by the process of forming your review, taking interest in the subtleties of what makes somewhere good versus great, and marvelling at the breadth of your culinary knowledge (which you’re actually very proud of, being self-taught and all); he’s still raving about it as you walk - with plenty of time to spare, mind you - along chalk farm road towards the roundhouse. “i actually don’t know what i’m more impressed with, you or the food. genuinely. you’re incredible. and to think i was going to make you soup!”

you frown. “past tense? why?”

“you know too much about food. i won’t be able to impress you.”

“matty,” you turn to look at him, wide-eyed and crestfallen. “that’s not true at all!”

he scoffs, but not harshly. “come on, babe,” the nickname does something funny to your stomach. “i’m not upset about it, just thinking realistically. how is my nana’s carrot and coriander recipe gonna stack up against michelin-starred minestrone, or whatever? not at all, that’s how. and that’s alright!”

“matty. matty - alright, fine,” you clear your throat, stopping and standing with your hands on your hips. “matthew. listen to me, and listen good, yeah? right,” when he nods, blinking those pretty eyes, you continue. “soup is a whole different thing - in fact, all domestic cooking is, especially if you’re making something for someone you care about. i don’t want to be impressed by the technique, i want to be nourished. cared for. dare i say, healed. and, in that regard, i have no doubt that your nana’s recipe would fucking decimate any posh restaurant soup. alright?”

he nods, shyly peeking through his eyelashes. “alright.”

“thank you.”

the walk continues, silent for a few minutes until matty talks again. “you know,” he says, smile audible in his voice. “i didn’t think i’d find being lectured about soup sexy. and yet…”

“oh my god, stop it,” you giggle, although you’re simultaneously fighting the urge to skip along the path and secretly filing that piece of matty information away in your mind. just in case. “thanks, though.”

he shrugs, smirking. you’re into it. “just telling the truth. it’s my job, after all.”

“and here i thought you were flirting with me,” you smirk back. “shame,” you wink, speeding up slightly towards the venue; you drop into serious mode when you see several different door queues. “shit. where do we go, with the press passes?”

matty hums, looking around. suddenly, he takes your hand, gently leading you to a side door; you’re quite content with this, a sort-of fuzzy feeling overcoming you, so much so that you barely register him talking. “here we are. you ready, darling?”

you nod happily at him. “round two. let’s go.”

the night, at first, progresses a lot like the previous one - you spend the opening set dancing, singing along to the songs you know pretty well by now, leaning in to talk to matty about any discrepancies you see in performance between both nights while he diligently takes notes. when they close with his favourite song, again, you’re slightly dismayed that he continues to write, and you can’t repeat the hand-holding; pretty much as soon as you’ve thought that, though, matty leans into you to rest his head on yours and sing along to the lyrics, and the room seems to get brighter. out of both desire and necessity (you know how clumsy he is), you wrap an arm around matty’s waist, and you swear you can hear him smile. it’s warm, sweet, intimate without being weird, and you really don’t want to let go of him. ever.

eventually, once the song ends and the house lights come up in the break between sets, you do, pulling your notebook from your jacket pocket with a sigh. matty straightens up, stretches with a groan that should not be as attractive as it was to you, and smiles. “pasta tiredness hitting you too?”

“little bit,” you wince. “maybe dinner then dancing was a bad idea.”

he shakes his head. “nah. it’s been fun. i’ve really enjoyed it.”

“i’m glad to hear that,” you smile at him. “wouldn’t mind making a habit of it, actually.”

“really?” matty beams. “neither would i. maybe we can pitch it to marianne as an actual segment. like, restaurant pairings with gigs, potentially highlight local places near the venues we go to. yeah?”

it’s a fucking great idea. he goes all bashful when you tell him as much. “cool. we can maybe see her about it on monday, if she’s in.”

you nod. “of course. come and find me on monday morning, and we can come up with a proper pitch while we get this piece done, alright?”

“‘course,” matty nods, smiling when the lights drop and the audience scream. “right, i’ll leave you to your notes.”

“cheers,” you reply, reluctantly turning towards the stage. it isn’t that the gig is bad, at all - as you wrote in your notes, the band are talented, charismatic, well-rehearsed. it’s just extremely difficult to focus on them and your notebook when you have the boy of your dreams beside you, close enough to touch and kiss and dance with, singing along happily and doing a dorky little two-step that makes his hair bounce quite beautifully. every so often, the urge to turn and smile at him becomes too much to resist, and matty goes visibly - adorably - pink under the stark white lighting every single time he makes eye contact with you.

by the time the gig ends, you’re dead certain: you are down so incredibly deeply bad for matty healy, and you need to tell him as soon as possible.

as it turns out, the opportunity for that happens extremely quickly once you’re both out of the venue, talking and laughing and dissecting the show even further than you did in your respective notebooks as you leave, and it’s so romance-media smooth that you genuinely think a higher power might be involved. perhaps an apology from the universe by having a group of teenagers push you and matty apart at yesterday’s gig, this time a group of them push you closer together, bolting past you and screaming about catching the bus home - matty tugs you into him to stop you being completely bowled over, and turns so the two of you are right next to the building instead of in the firing line out in the open. his hands are warm against your waist and lower back, and so is his neck under your clasped hands; you have no recollection of putting them there, but you sure as shit aren’t going to move them anytime soon. if you did that, you’d further the distance between you, and why on earth would you want to do that, when you’re so close you can’t tell whose breath cloud is whose and the little flecks of gold in his dark eyes are visible to you for the first time?

no. you’ll stay as you are, thank you very much.

“you know that thing we were going to pitch to marianne at work on monday?” you whisper, heart pounding as you notice matty’s eyes flick to your lips. “the thing we want to make a habit of?”

“yeah,” matty breathes, the words so close to your lips you can practically taste them. “what about it?”

your lips part, and you take a shaky breath before you reply. “well, the thing is,” you bite your lip, and his pupils dilate. “i don’t think i want it to be a work thing, matty.”

a beat passes before he responds. “neither do i.”

thank fuck.

your eyes close in contentment. “matty?”

“yeah, darling?”

you reopen them, looking up at him - for the probably millionth time in two days, you don’t bother trying to hide the feeling in your gaze. “kiss me.”

that gorgeous face above yours cracks into a smile. “alright.”

and he does.

it’s exactly how you imagined he would be - a little bit sloppy, tentative with tongue, but so eager and giggly and just so caring that it doesn’t matter. on instinct, your hand roots itself in matty’s curls, and the little whine he lets out is probably enough to fuel your bedtime fantasies for a fortnight by itself. you smile into him, tracing your tongue around his lips before sucking on the bottom one and releasing it slowly. your head is spinning, from matty more than lack of oxygen, and you honestly don’t think you’ve ever been happier post-kiss in your life.

there’s a happy silence for a minute, save the two of you gasping for breath, broken by matty kissing you quickly again and grinning. “hi. and, also, wow.”

“indeed,” you beam up at him, gently twisting those pretty curls around your fingers. “you might’ve figured it out by now, but… i like you, in a more-than-platonic sense.”

“the kiss gave it away, yeah,” he giggles breathily. “i take it there’s no policy at work about making out with your colleagues? or, y’know, taking them out on actual, unrelated-to-work dates?”

“no such thing.”

matty smiles, pulling you in for another kiss. “well, thank christ for that.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #office nerd au #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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paddockbunny · 1 year

Text

Repeat Offender

Summary : Charles is recently single and quickly finds himself in a "friends with benefits" situation with none other than his ex-girlfriend's best friend.

Rating : 18+, Mature

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x Reader

Word Count : 7, 345

Trigger Warnings : 18+, Mature & Adult themes, Angsty, FWB situation, PinV sex, Unprotected sex, Oral (female receiving), slight choking, c*m talk & language

Authors Note : Firstly, I had around five or six requests for a newly single charles or rebounding charles so I've amalgamated them all into one. Thank you for the inspo to all of those who requested something to do with this. I'm trying out some first person stuff on this one so although it's labelled as "reader" YOU are in fact the author/reader if that makes sense. I also don't mention Charles' ex by name and that is very much on purpose as I keep my blog as IRL WAG free as possible so none of my stories will feature any of their names, hope you can all understand why. Anyway, this is LOOOOOONG so it has not been proofread yet.

You know when you wake up but your not fully awake yet, you’re like conscious but not alert? Well, that was exactly how I was feeling as the room was ever so slightly spinning and the faint memory of strawberry daiquiri's and vodka shots were beginning to flash across my eyes. So was the deafening sound of the music, the ache in the arches of my feet from stupid heels and the feeling of hands creeping around my waist pulling my ass against a firm crotch while dancing. Then as I slowly crept more and more into consciousness I felt the slight ache from my thighs kick in and the feeling my body had been through it.

Finally, after summoning up the energy to do it, I managed to open my eyes. They felt heavy and dense and I realised there was no way I had made it home because I had slept in my make-up - and regardless of whatever state I was in I would always manage to stumble into the bathroom to at least wipe most of the night out greasepaint off of my face so the fact it was still firmly in place meant the worst. As my vision was struggled to focus I wriggled around in a rather comfortable bed and attempted to pull myself up without a wave of nausea lash upon me. Exactly how much did I fucking drink last night? But then as eventually my eyes concentrated on something and a very loud groan reverberated from my throat. The familiar bright coloured art work that hung from the white wall across from the bottom of the bed was like a vicious, unwelcome enemy. I had studied it far too many times to count and each time it got worse and worse. It was like the eyes of T. J Eckleburg in The Great Gatsby, but instead of the judgment of an inanimate object upon American society, this horrendous painting was judging my piss poor decisions of the night prior which lead me to waking up in this damn bed, once again. And as my stomach lurched I had to force myself to make sure I was in the bed of the man whom the awful painting belonged to.

At an almost glacier pace my head began to turn. Crawling up the sheet clad outline of a pair of calves, knees and up to big, broad thighs and into the covered - yet barely - crotch. The outline of his cock almost visible through the white cotton that was practically failing to protect his modesty. His hips were next, then the outline of abs which yeah ok - I can admit it, I’ve traced with my tongue before so sue me. Then I couldn’t do it any longer. I was just drawing things out. I snapped my head immediately up to his and yup! It was Charles.

“Oh fuck!” I groaned loudly and with an eye roll I drew my hands over my face. Listen, you might be thinking “he’s fucking hot as hell, probably an incredible shag and I’d love to know how big his cock is” but, it’s all the other stuff that goes along with these nights of drunken yet passionate sex with Charles that makes me sick to my stomach each time I wake up here. You see Charles had so much awkward baggage that spilled over into my own life and I really went through several stages of self loathing when I left his apartment and had the embarrassing walk of shame home the next day. “Good morning to you too.” He scoffed loudly but by this point I knew he probably felt as guilt-ridden and dismayed as I felt.

Silence had momentarily befallen us. All I heard was the quick typing of his thumbs hitting his phone screen. It was almost annoying. That incessant tap, tappy tappy tappy, tap, tap as he typed whatever was in his head into a text or whatever he was doing. I couldn’t help it, I rolled my eyes and thought how likely it was that he was probably texting one of his friends telling them how the pair of us had hooked up AGAIN! Most likely he was asking for their advice on how to get me out of his bed. Not that he needed any because there was no way in hell I felt like staying. I wanted to get out of here as badly and he wanted to kick me out. Just as I moved to sit upright a bit more and try search for my stomach lurched and I had to take a few deep breaths not to feel the effects of last nights alcohol. Something which unfortunately Charles noticed and as he asked if I was suffering from a the dreaded hangover, sarcasm laced thick in his voice.

“Why does this always happen? Why do we do this?” I sighed while letting out a long, drawn out exhale. The question hung in the air and I could feel Charles’ eyes suddenly burrowing into the side of my head. I knew there were words teetering on the tip of his tongue and could practically hear his brain working out a response that sounded appropriate for me but thankfully, he remained in silence. There was no doubt he would have been regretting whatever things happened last night as much as I was and yet, he didn’t seem particularly consumed by guilt. He seemed rather carefree right now so scoff I closed my eyes in an attempt to piece the puzzle together remember what the fuck happened last night.

The music was far too loud but the fourth fruity cocktail I currently clasped in my hand made me rather immune and numb to it. I danced just like all the other girls out in the middle of the crowded dance floor. Hips swaying side to side in time with the rhythm. Hair swishing around without a care in the world. Feet aching in stupid stilettos. To have looked at me in that moment anyone would be forgiven for thinking I was a party girl. One of those glamorous girls always out on the town, partying, blowing cash (boys and snow* too probably) but really I hated going out. I hated the stress of finding something to wear, doing the whole routine of make-up and hair and then feeling like I was in the middle of a cattle market. At least the men in Monaco happened to be rich and therefore no girls spent a dime all night from all the free drinks that would get bought. And the fact that someone in my group always seemed to know someone else in another and that meant VIP was inevitable. And I mean come on, who wouldn’t want to be sat in VIP?! Which was funnily enough, where Amelie was pulling me in the direction of and then I sighed when I saw why.

Sat in a booth was none other than Charles and his gang of buddies that I really wish would have been anywhere else in the world tonight and not in this nightclub. As soon as he looked around and saw me heading toward him I swear he rolled his eyes.

“Fucking hello to you too Charles.” I thought, muttering under my breath while I and rolled my own eyes back at him sarcastically. And that was when my mind flashed back to the last time we saw each other. It had been at that shitty dinner where I actually felt sorry for him having to sit the whole night flashing googly eyes at his ex girlfriend hoping she would notice him even though the night before he had had his cock shoved down my throat, me! The one he spent the entire time ignoring. But the thing was, I knew one thing he didn’t and that was she was already moving on with someone who might have been too close too home for him to even comprehend. Yet, with his attitude I said nothing and allowed him to remain in purgatory. Sad thing was, she never even so much as glanced at him the whole meal. Then I remembered what happened after, once everyone had drank heavily and shared cars home. It hadn’t been the first time (nor the second, third or fourth and was actually more like the eleventh or twelfth) that Charles had put the moves on me and I stupidly succumbed to his seductions. But now as I reached the table the thought of his hands being between my thighs, his fingers caressing my desperate clit with the door to his apartment wide open behind us in an utterly voyeuristic display - one that I would never have pegged him as the type to enjoy - danced teasingly through my thoughts. He slid into the booth a little more and nodded in the direction of the now vacant faux leather seat beside him for me to sit in. He looked good tonight and for once that wasn’t the alcohol in my system talking. He seemed to be in good spirits and I figured he must have been celebrating a good race. It was neutral ground so I thought it was something I could talk to him about. When I went to open my mouth to do exactly so, my words were swallowed by his; “Have you seen her recently?” Your mouth parted slightly before closing. You had to bite your tongue before you said something to the effect of “fuck off” or “fuck you” and quickly shook your head to respond to him. Then loudly from across the table one of his friends shouted loudly “shots” and thankfully it distracted Charles from pushing the conversation toward her like he wanted.

Several shots were taken and yet another strong strawberry daiquiri was being drunk while having as everyone sat at the table has as much of a conversation as possible over the loud thumping music. I raised my voice as I leaned forward to answer one of the questions Charles’ friends had asked me. We had met before and yet he did that typical male thing of forgetting who I was and therefore I had to tell him all over again much to my slight annoyance and dismay. But as I was explaining what I did for a living, I stuttered when suddenly I felt the flesh of soft fingertips ghost up and down my bare naked thigh. The action almost made me brake my calm, collected exterior. He couldn’t be serious? We had barely spoken since I sat down nearly an hour ago and as his thumb stroked up and down the skin of my inner thigh I glanced at him. He wasn’t even paying attention, he was doing it just for the sake of it, because he could. And so without a single thought I decided it was time to go and dance again. I wanted to put distance between him and I because we would only end up doing what was by now becoming a habit and falling into bed together.

As I grabbed Amelie and pulled her back to dance with me, I could feel the familiar pulsating throb from between my thighs at the thought of Charles. I tried to push the thoughts of him out of my brain as I began dancing and yet, it was a pointless task as all I kept thinking about was how badly I needed him and how he melted all of my annoyed thoughts of him away with a simple touch of his damn hand. The worst part was, just as Amelie and I settled into moving our bodies one of Charles’ friends rudely pushed between us. I was just about to argue and tell him to get lost when I suddenly felt hands creep around my waist. I didn’t need to look to know who they belonged too and I realised the intrusion in between me and my dance partner had been orchestrated.

“Running away from me?” Charles purred against the side of my neck. Why did he do this? Every single time we saw each other he always got underneath my skin. I hated him for it but I felt powerless against him and his cocky seduction techniques. His hands gripped my waist tighter as he pulled me back so I was flush against him. Our hips moving side to side while he got all the friction of my ass grinding against his crotch. “We said the last time was the last time.” “No. You did.” His words were more direct than I would have expected them to be. Almost like he was annoyed at me for implying I was about to turn him down - as if I could if I wanted too, just having the teasing action of his clothed cock so close to where I wanted it would have had me making a public embarrassment of myself right here in a nightclub. And without warning he used those lingering hands to turn me around to face him. “Let me take you home.” “No, Charles. We cannot keep doing this.” The sheer fact that when I spoke to him he was looking at my mouth instead of in my eyes made me want to kick him in the shin for being so vexing. But right as I was trying to convince myself to stand my ground against him he cast his eyes across my body and fuck, the things it did to me when he looked at me like that. “Charles, we’re playing with fire….”

“So? We’ll both burn together.” He shrugged nonchalantly. And I suddenly realised how we were no longer dancing and simply standing staring at each other while everyone else around us continued. In a regular situation - when alcohol wasn’t coursing through my body clouding my judgment - I would have felt self conscious but right now all I could think about was the fact he wanted me so badly he was out here making bold declarations. For a second the fact his first words to me earlier were about his ex girlfriend entered into my mind and a fleeting crushing feeling passed through my soul. He just wanted me to release his tension, not because he ACTUALLY wanted me. I zoned out briefly as I thought of how bad I always felt the next day and considered if I was strong enough to do it again. But as I was contemplating his hand travelled up to my neck and he made me look at him and I was gone. I wanted him to make me feel good.

How he managed to get us both out of the nightclub so easily I had no idea. His hand was wrapped around my wrist guiding me past hordes of people and out toward an exit. It took all but two minutes until we were in the back of a car heading back to his. It seemed too swift to me, too well thought out and I realised that he was so arrogant because he knew I would say yes and probably pre-arranged the car to pick us up. In that second I knew I should have been so pissed off and angry that he would think I was that easy but I let it slip again because I knew I was using him as much as he was using me. I liked the momentary, fleeting high he gave me. I was like a drug taker, he was the drug, and I was willing to take the short hits when I could. So I was every bit as bad as he was. Charles normally didn’t behave to politely in the back of the cars we took as we went back to his. His hands would be roaming, following suit with his mouth. He always made sure to light the match inside of me before we even got to the safety of his apartment. The fact he could be caught out, someone could tell, seemed to always be the furthest thing from his mind and so tonight, it was different. He sat further away and kept his hands very much to himself. And when I couldn’t help but glance across the car toward him and watched as his jaw seemed to clench I swallowed while nerves buzzed through my brain.

As soon as we got to his apartment building Charles called for the elevator and I couldn’t help but feel the same attitude radiating from him. It was the same attitude he had in the car and I thought about turning on my heels and leaving immediately. I didn't even know how to read him. Which meant I was so caught in the thought of trying to work him out that I missed the ding of the lift stopping on the lobby and sliding open. It wasn’t until Charles practically purred my name and held his hand out for me from inside the elevator that I snapped back into reality due to the look that filled his eyes. You knew it all too well. It was self assured, cocky confidence. He knew I couldn’t turn him down, I couldn’t turn his cock down, I craved it and what he could do with it too much. And so when my high heel clad feet crossed the marble floor and passed the iron thread hold of the lift I felt the surge of excitement buzz throughout my body.

The pair of us rode the elevator is silence but my hand remained firmly gripped in Charles’ and his thumb was delicately running over the back of my knuckles. It would be almost fucking romantic if there was any smidgen of a “normal” relationship between us. Now that I had registered the buzz of excitement I also felt the more steady and familiar hit of anxiety that went with it. It was pre-sex anxiety - that realistically I had no reason to have, this wasn’t my first rodeo (certainly not with Charles) but I still had it anyway. The silence would have been deafening to anyone else but right now I was kind of thankful for it. I didn’t want to chat because if I did I would feel guilt and I really didn’t want to feel guilty about what my body craved and desired above all else. The short ride up to Charles’ apartment ended when the lift door slid open and he gently pulled me out behind him. Fuck, I wish I had drunk more. Alcohol would have banished the unfair apprehension I was feeling. I leaned against the wall while Charles opened the door with his key. The curve of his shoulders made my mouth water. The thought of kissing his thick, strong neck while hearing the sound of pleasurable moans escape him sent a pulsating ache through my core. He pushed open the door and held it there with his hand, waiting for me to enter his abode first, ahead of him. And I mustered up all the confidence I could manage to saunter past him and glide into the hallway. The millions he took home from his career driving in fast circles paid off. Charles home was beautiful but like always, I wasn’t here to appreciate it.

Charles hands on my bare arms reminded me of that. He pressed against me from behind and I could feel his semi hard cock already straining against his jeans and I tried desperately to hold it back but a gasp escaped passed my lips as he moved my hair to the side to expose my neck to him. Fuck. The feel of his lips as they pressed delicate tender kisses against my flesh had my mind whirling. I pushed back into him more, instinct completely taking over, and a low groan rolled out of his parted lips and sent tingles up and down my spine. It was dangerous to have allowed myself to think it but I gave in and thought about how it would feel to have been his - properly, as a girlfriend - for all but a few fleeting seconds.

When Charles hands moved from my arms to my waist and I wasted no time. The alcohol came rushing back to me and I turned to him at breakneck speed. My lips finding his immediately. As my hands slowly glided upon the skin of his neck holding him to me. When I let out a small moan it was the sign he needed to start pushing me backward till my back pressed against a cold wall and his tongue pushed into my mouth. He tasted like the liquor he had consumed and as his tongue ran teasingly across my bottom lip he followed it with his teeth and it brought another moan from me, like he knew it would. Charles’ hands left my waist and I felt them slip down to my legs. His fingers skimming the outside of my thighs. I knew he wanted to push my dress up. He was growing impatient and that became very obvious when he yanked me away from the wall and pulled me through his house to his bedroom. The familiar surroundings welcomed me like a sneaky comrade. The walls practically smirked as I was pulled in by Charles. I could become accustomed to these plush surroundings if he saw me as more than a just a hook-up but that was a fucking dumb idea.

My dress was off faster than I knew what was happening. It was around my ankles on the floor and Charles was already making fast work of removing his shirt. His eyes hungrily fixed on my bare chest. He was practically wolf like as his eyes remained on my skin the whole time. I would have blushed if I had been less confident. “Take them off.” It was the first time he spoke since we had left the club. “You heard me.” He flashed his eyes down toward the thin scrap of black lace material that could barely behold the name of underwear. As my eyes travelled down to where his hands were working on ridding himself of his jeans I realised I wasn’t ready to allow him to have all the fun. “No.” I stated. “Take them off me.” My stomach flipped and I watched as a smirk disappeared from his face as quick as it appeared.

“That’s how you want it huh?” He abandoned trying to remove his jeans and his hand suddenly went to my neck and held me firmly before he used it to push me backward on to the bed. My heart hastily quickened. It hammered against my rib cage so quickly it began to hurt. I looked up at him full of expectation but he wasted no time in hooking his fingers around the sides of the only material left on my body and roughly pulling them down my legs and off completely. I watched Charles as he took me in. His eyes casting over and lingering in all the important areas. I bit my bottom lip as my own eyes mimicked his and I took in his perfectly sculpted chest and then his defined muscular abs. The lines on his hips that were line a tempting signal down toward his now erect cock, standing to full attention. He watched me watching him and cockily laughed. “Go on.” He tilted his head and I knew exactly what he was referring too. He wanted head. He wanted me to blow him. And I would have, I would have blown him till my jaw ached and throat couldn’t take anymore, but I reminded him that he wasn’t getting full control.

Much to Charles surprise, I pulled my ankles up and put myself on full display for him. I played him at his own game. If he wanted me to go down on him he had to do it first. I held his gaze and so when he laughed again I wasn’t so sure he was as willing to be a giver as much as a taker, but within a few agonising moments he proved me wrong. Charles was down on his knees and instantly pulled your legs up so you could rest them on his shoulders. And although it was something of an embarrassing confession to make, all of the times we had had sex, Charles had never gone down on me. Not once. So now that his head was between my thighs, mouth so tantalisingly close, eyes locked on to mine, I held my breath in anticipation. Charles gently ran his fingers up and down my dampening folds. I swallowed the breath that was caught in my throat as Charles finally licked a slow, teasing stripe that followed the pattern of his fingers moments earlier. He repeated the action over and over again. Using it to torment me. My hands grabbed hold of the sheets, fingers entwined in the high thread count duvet, when Charles began to pay attention to my pulsating, throbbing clit. Small, short flutters were mixed in with strong kisses. And then a loud exhale left my lips as he pushed two of his fingers inside me.

“Char….” I couldn’t get his name out. My breathing was erratic and all I could think about was what his mouth was doing. As his tongue continued lapping at my clit, his fingers curled up inside of me and Charles immediately found and started massaging that magical spot that made me gasp. And he continued even when I shoved my hands through his hair and gripped on for dead life. My eyes squeezed tightly shut as I felt the first high of an orgasm fast approaching. Swear words were all I could manage. My mouth going between wide open to get as much air as I possibly could and tightly shut with my top teeth digging into my bottom lip practically drawing blood. I was almost so lost in the beginning of the wave of euphoric pleasure that I missed the moan Charles made as he felt my walls start to convulse around his fingers. Fuck. How and why did I not beg for him to do this to me sooner? He was far too good at it. It was borderline obscene how good he was at it. And totally criminal that he had never gone down on me before. Right as I felt every nerve in my body begin to be ignited with the high of a climax Charles removed his mouth and in its place used the fingers of his other hand to draw rapid circles against my clit. The motion made me loose complete control of my mind and his name burst free from my mouth as wave upon wave of ecstasy crashed upon me. The high was undeniable. It took hold of my body and I felt myself quivering as he slipped his fingers out of me, covered in the product of my orgasm.

“Look at me.” Charles voice came quietly but strongly and I did as he requested. I opened my eyes and looked down at where he still remained, between my thighs. He held my stare as he ran the fingers he had brought me to orgasm with back up and down my now dripping folds. A small tremor shuddered through my thighs as he did so. And then with my eyes trained straight on his he raised his fingers to his mouth and licked them. It took a second to register the feeling that I felt in that moment but as he raised to his feet and I saw his cock rock hard, with its purpling tip already leaking pre-cum, I knew it was one that filled me with unashamed excitement. “Turn over.” He demanded and I relinquished the control I had won earlier so easily. Not because he wanted me too but because I wanted too. There was nothing in the world I wanted more than for Charles to fucking rail me into oblivion. I turned and got on all fours on the bed. Ass facing him. It was a position I had come to realise was one of his favourites. Sure he liked watching my boobs bounce as I rode him cowgirl and sometimes if he was feeling slightly more tired he’d fuck missionary, but Doggy was his favourite (like most guys). The momentary lapse of concentration earned me a firm thwack of his hand against the round flesh of my ass. I yelped and lunged forward and I felt the enjoyment radiating off of him. I doubted she let him do that, I doubted she would have enjoyed it. I moaned and after I wiggled my hips around a little he did it again so that a more audible whimper left my mouth.

“Fuck me…” I knew it was what he wanted to hear so I gave it to him. “Please, Charles….” I added more good measure and sure enough, he pulled my hips back and immediately ran his leaking cock over my sensitive folds to collect the mixture of his spit and my juices.

As he lined up at my entrance and pushed the head of his cock inside of me, teasingly slowly, I pushed back for more. It was an action that I knew he would have enjoyed and he groaned as he gave me more of himself. His hand splayed on my lower back and forced me down into the mattress more so I arched for him and then he gave me all of himself. He bottomed out and the stretch from his girthy cock had me once again gasping and gripping the sheets. He stalled for a moment - savouring the feeling no doubt - before he began moving. Slow at first. A steady but slow rhythm that I needed, rather than wanted, to quickly increase. Charles moaned loudly and paused for a second only to surprise me completely. “Your pussy is so fucking perfect. You, are so fucking perfect.” I knew he didn’t mean it in THAT way - he didn’t like me like that, I knew that and he didn’t even need to verbalise it - but his praise made me feel good all the same. I wriggled my hips again to urge him to move and when he did his pace increased. It increased until I was a panting writhing mess. I loved how big he felt at this angle and how he would alternate between giving me quick, short spanks and pulling my hair. And honestly I truly had to focus so I didn’t cum just yet. His cock continually hitting my g-spot could have made me see stars but I didn’t want to give in yet. I wanted more of him so I urged him on my moaning his name over and over and over again through heavy sighs. His hand wrapped itself around my hair once again and this time he pulled me back so my back was flush against him.

“Say my name again.” His voice was lower than I had ever heard it before. Lower than I ever thought possible. The hand that had been wrapped around my long hair was now around my throat, holding my in place against his body as he continued thrusting up into me. I couldn’t focus on words. I just kept thinking about Charles’ lips being on my neck and feeling how fast my heart was going through the vein they lingered upon. His teeth grazed the flesh and his name whimpered across my lips a few times before he finally called me a “good girl” and I almost lost my mind between that and the angle his cock was at. He had to know how close I was. He had to feel how my pussy tightened around his cock and I was beginning to struggle to keep going. His teeth sunk into my shoulder and he groaned as I couldn’t stop the orgasm that came thrashing down upon me. I grabbed his arm so tightly my fingernails would leave marks upon his skin. My whole body convulsed as finally I let go and let the climax take hold of me. The high Charles had given me seemed to be otherworldly and stratospheric. It took me to another fucking planet and none more so than when he groaned, gripped my hips and held me down in place while he himself, found release. I could feel the pulse of his cock inside of me as his hot, milky cum poured out of him. The feeling was insurmountable. The twitch of him as he filled me up seemed the prolong my orgasm even longer and when the shakes that ravaged my body became too much, I couldn’t keep my knees from giving way and so finally fell forward against the bed again. All I could hear was Charles and I’s heavy, exhausted breathing.

As Charles settled down beside me on the bed he ran his hands up and down my back. It was a rather tender, sweet motion for someone who had just railed me into oblivion but I didn’t mind it. Suddenly as I found myself lying still - still recovering from those two incredible orgasms - I felt the alcohol from earlier catch up on me. The room seemed a bit spiny and I really didn’t want to throw up anywhere in Charles all white apartment. But then - right on queue - with his breathing still laboured Charles asked if I wanted anything and suggested a towel and a glass of water. Not to sound like a broken fucking record but this was new, he had never done this before. He had never really spoken after we had fucked so this was totally left field. I nodded and said both would be nice if he didn’t mind.

“Ok, be right back.” I listened to his words but stayed in the same position as I had earlier - mainly because I was scared of being sick and because now I was completely exhausted but also because I didn’t want Charles’ cum to leak out of me and go all over his extortionate sheets. I thought the action of him going to get me things would have been nice for a normal, regular girl (y’know, one he was dating) but seemed unusual for him to extend such gestures to me, his fuck buddy, his hook-up, his piece of ass. When he finally came back clutching an ice cold glass of water and a warmed damp towel for me to clean up with I expected him to hand me my dress as well. But my dress remained on the floor and he stared down at me while I drank from the glass. “Let me.” He motioned when I went for the towel. Charles took the glass from me and placed it on the floor before crouching down there himself. I was about to question him, ask him what he thought he was doing, when he lifted one of my legs and slowly parted them. My breathing all but stopped as he dabbed at my slightly red, a little bit tender pussy with the warm cloth. I let out an unsteady, unsure exhale of air as he watched his cum slowly seep out of me.

“Hmmm….” He purred “I should have told you my pull out game is weak.” He chuckled and in that singular moment he made me laugh. He sat back on his heels and laughed with me and all of the nervous energy in my body disappeared. All I could focus on was the sound of his laughter and how much I liked it and in a different life I would have wanted to hear it every single day for an eternity.

I rushed to try and find my dress, hoping that he hadn’t torn this one like last time. I wanted to spend the least amount of time naked in front of him as possible now snapshots of last night began coming back to me. Charles observed from his place in bed. Watching me as I sprinted around to get back into last nights clothes so I could leave. As the sunlight streamed in through his window it bathed us both in the cold harsh reality of the day and it was very much bringing a self loathing vibe along with it. Suddenly a wave of riotous nausea flashed upon me and my head felt like it belonged in a vice. Through clenched teeth I rubbed my forehead from the searing pain screaming throughout it

“Can I get you painkillers?” His voice had turned soft and was rather strange because it wasn’t what I was used too from him - or was that the narrative my own brain made up for me to believe he was a metaphorical bad guy? “Don’t do that, Charles. Don’t be nice to me.” “Why?” He acted so innocent and I knew he was putting on a front, there was no way he could be so stupid. “Because!” I practically shrieked, “I’m your ex-girlfriend’s best friend and we can’t stop fucking each other.” “I think you’ll probably be her ex-best friend if she finds out about us.” FUCK! He really didn’t need to hit me with the reality stick right now. The smugness was almost woven through his voice and I had to restrain myself from throttling him. But in reality the cold light of day made me feel angry and disappointed with myself, something I doubted he felt about this situation at all.

“That’s not going to happen.” I snap back at him. “Because there is no “us”, there never will be an “us.” Your voice lowered and you knew it sounded sadder than you intended. It didn’t stop Charles from continuing however. “Right…..” he rolled his eyes “until you’ve had too many strong cocktails and vodka shots and then you won’t be able to say no. Just like you always.” With his words lingering in the air I had to fight the urge to yell at him that I was never the instigator and he was the one who always came after me. I desperately wanted to fucking correct him and scream at him that he used me to forget about his ex, about Ferrari, about all the pressures of the life he leads and that it was HIM that sought ME out, not the other way around. But for some unknown reason, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t want to start an argument with him. I pulled on my dress hurriedly once I found it, no longer wanting to be so naked in front of him. All I wanted was to get the embarrassing walk of shame back to my apartment over already. I busied myself from the silence by looking for my shoes and I almost missed Charles getting out of bed and getting dressed.

“I’ll give you a ride home.” I heard him say as I pulled up the covers and found my black heel under them at the bottom of the bed. I now felt uncomfortable in his presence after the last words he spoke. Instinctively I told him; “It’s fine, I’ll call an Uber.” “I’m not suggesting. I’m telling.” He stated bluntly and this was new, this had never happened before. He was rarely awake when I slunk out the door of his apartment - because it was always his apartment or hotel room never mine - so this was completely foreign to me. “If you’re sure.” I half expected him to say of course he didn’t mean it, laugh, explain he was messing and to call that Uber immediately. But he just nodded and picked up my other heel from beside the door and held it out to me. I tried to avoid his eyes. I didn’t want him to see any emotion at at all behind mines so I took the shoe and shoved it on to distract myself.

We didn’t speak the whole ride to my apartment. The silence was only somewhat uncomfortable but for some strange reason things felt rather calm. Sitting in the passenger seat of Charles’ Ferrari - which I had never before sat in - felt somewhat surreal. I was hyper aware that the seat still practically bore another girls name. It still belonged to her and he would have her back without so much as blinking. I kept my eyes on the roads as Charles expertly drove the expensive luxury vehicle around them. Hoping the red lights would turn green as soon as we approached them.

“I do like you, y’know?” Came abruptly from Charles mouth when we turned onto my street, my apartment building in sight. I thought my ears were deceiving me so I broke my trance and glanced at him. “I know you probably think you’re just a rebound or….” He trailed off as he put the blinker on to pull over into the lane he could stop in to let me out. I could see the front door to my building and I had never seen a more welcome sight. “…but it’s not like that.”

I was desperate to ask what it was in fact like, what exactly he thought was going on but thankfully he brought the car to a stop and I could finally jump out and escape the awkwardness. There was this uneasy feeling in the car that hit me like a led balloon and right in the middle of my chest. I hated it. I wasn’t used to it, especially not with Charles. I was used to feeling annoyed, frustrated and fuck, disappointed by him. The first few times we fucked I’d have said I felt used but that went away because I enjoyed our trysts as much as he did. And besides I didn’t need validation from him. I didn’t need him to need me. But then right now, as I waited to get out of the car with my hand on the door handle, it hit me how badly the words he had just spoken were actually all the things that I craved and desired above all else and it was startling. Then Charles said my name so gently, totally unlike he had ever said it before, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. “I’d like to take you out sometime, properly. On a date.”

But before I knew what I was even doing I pulled the handle, pushed the door and started getting out of his car. He yelled my name so I would stop and for a second I did but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, to fall for him. “You know that can’t happen, Charles.” I managed to say in something struggling to be above a whisper “you don’t want me, you don’t even really like me, you’re still in love with her.”

The elevator ride up to my apartment felt like it took an eternity. The words he had spoken rang throughout my head as if a bomb had gone off and I was momentarily deaf. Fuck him. Fuck his bullshit and fuck how I fucking felt right now because of him. I was right for telling him that he was wrong and he still loved his stupid ex but it hurt because being with him always did. Being picked up and dropped all the time hurt. I wanted to be one of those girls who would have fallen for his words, whose stomach flipped when he told them he liked them, but I wasn’t and mines didn’t. I knew it was just about sex. I wasn’t his type. I wasn’t right for him. I’d never be his girl….and yet as the doors opened to my floor, I couldn’t wait till the next time I could fall asleep beside him and hate myself for it the next day.

*snow = cocaine

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luveline · 1 year

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Cute hotch blurb where the whole team suspects the reader and Aaron are having a baby, and they’re right of course because reader and hotch are never as subtle as they think. Just obsessed with Girl dad! Aaron at the moment. It’s too cute. 😭

"No," Hotch says as you both enter the room, making your way to the bullpen, where he drops you off each day, "I'm not saying that, all I'm saying is you need the extra vitamins."

You put your stuff down at your desk a little ways off from the main body of profilers. Hotch here would kiss your cheek politely and keep on to his office, professionalism his main motif, but he doesn't.

"I'm not going to drink cod oil."

"I don't want you to drink cod oil," he says, and he laughs, a rare treat to hear at work.

The sound attracts the attention of Morgan and Emily, who are already here for the day. Reid's desk is empty.

"I want you to take vitamins coated in cod oil," he says.

You laugh yourself and it's lovely, you and Hotch were meant to be together if only for how often you make one another smile. You wrap your arms around his waist which isn't unusual, you're not a stickler for workplace etiquette like he is, but what is unusual is the swiftness with which he hugs you in return, briefcase behind your back, free hand smoothed over your neck.

You're a hug sponge, but Emily can count the amount of times she's seen you initiate a kiss on one hand, and it shocks her when you kiss a line up to Hotch's mouth. She slaps Morgan on the arm and he glares at her before realising what it is she's drawing his attention too, your clinging affection.

"Sorry," you say.

"No, don't be sorry."

You and Hotch share a sickly sweet smile. He chucks you under the chin and turns to start up the stairs, and it is a generosity that Emily waits for him to shut his office door before she starts on you.

"What was that?" she asks.

You cover your face with both hands. "Emily, please don't."

"Are you getting married again? I haven't seen you guys this loved up since you came back from your honeymoon."

Surprisingly, you look caught. Like you are actually getting married again, which is impossible. You don't have to be a profiler to jump to the next conclusion.

"Don't tell me you guys are having a baby," Morgan says, grinning. A genuinely happy smile rather than any smug smirking.

"We aren't," you say softly, "not yet. We just a really good morning, you know?"

Emily almost believes you and Morgan certainly does. Morgan hasn't seen what Emily has — your extra vitamins, your anti-nausea medications. Your sudden weak stomach makes immediate sense.

"Ah, I see," Morgan says, "though good isn't the word I use to describe a morning romp."

You laugh and boo at his wording and sit down at your desk. Morgan goes back to his paperwork with a self-satisfied hum, but Emily snoops that little bit longer. You sidle your chair close to your desk and take off your coat, reaching out for a file you'd left last night. Your regular routine.

Then, slowly, your hand creeps to your stomach. You hold yourself, eyes slipping closed as a small smile blooms.

Emily throws one leg over the other and gets back to work. She'll mind her own business — for now.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x pregnant!reader #pregnancy cw #pregnant!reader

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ratatouillewastakendammit · 5 months

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Could you possibly do head canons or a fanfic of Ghostface! Keigo(Hawks) x reader?

You have free creative control to what would happen and stuff like that (I just think the idea would be interesting) but you don’t have to do it if your not comfortable.

(Also I love your work)

Thank you so much!! (I"M BACK BITCHES FR THIS TIME! Also this is my very late Kinktober contribution because college is kicking my ass rn)

He would wait until a day you knew he wouldn’t be home.

“Kei, I promise, it’s alright."

Your boyfriend whined into the receiver. “Yeah, but we had plans tonight."

“And sitting in front of the tv with a bowl of candy and some Jordan Peele movies tomorrow night will be just as lovely.” You reply. “Besides, you gotta protect us from all the toilet-papering teens terrorizing the city tonight.”

“Hardy-har. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Love you.”

“I love you back.”

Preferably at a time when your other emotions were likely to overwhelm any idea of his plans.

Setting the phone down, you allowed your body to slouch into a sigh, one final act of disappointment that you didn’t want your boyfriend to see.

While one could argue that you were technically used to his fluctuating schedule, it still didn’t make it any less disheartening when he was called in last minute on holidays. Of course, you didn’t let him know that.

Then he'd play with you just a bit, letting your sense of anxiety spike just the slightest by leaving the overhead skylight ajar.

Had he really left it open?

“Dumbass,” you muttered with a grin, quickly standing up to grab a ladder.

A chill rattled through your spine as you climbed, fall wind blowing through your hair and poking goosebumps in your skin as you pulled the window closed, making sure to lock it before wandering into the kitchen for an after-dinner snack.

A bowl of cereal was always an easy solution, especially when it was accompanied by a spooky flick and a comfortable bar seat at the counter.

Your phone would ring at exactly midnight, a voice he knew you'd find familiar, yet still unable to place, would answer.

Unknown Number.

"Hello?"

"Hey there," the voice was masculine and deep, like the sound had been covered with a sheet of gravel before being released.

"I'm sorry, who is this?"

"Oh, come on, don't you recognize me?"

"Uh, no. I think you might have the wrong number."

"No, I don't." Silence followed for a few moments, just enough for a touch of unease to stir in your gut. "What's your favorite scary movie?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You gotta have a favorite. I know you like them."

"And how would you know that?"

"Because you're watching one right now."

He also knew how well you liked horror films, how easily you would recognize the reference and think of the surprise call as a prank. Then he'd make sure to get your heart beating once more.

"I also know your boyfriend left the window open on his way out. That's dangerous, dontcha think? Leaving a pretty thing like you all alone with the door locked?"

"What do you want?" Fear shook your vocal cords, the question coming out in a ridiculously less forceful manner than you would've liked.

"You."

Being the over-protective boyfriend he was, you had been taught how to react to a situation like this beforehand. That just meant he had to move quickly, sliding a hand over your mouth to smother a scream and prying the phone from your fingers before you could even think of calling for help.

"Calm down, sweetheart." The masked figure tossed the voice changer away, black fabric tickling the rim of your ear. "I've got ya."

Keigo was thoughtful. He'd give you a moment of realization, and another to stop struggling, before forcefully turning you around and lifting you on top of the counter, one hand encasing both of your wrists and the other toying with the end of your sleep-shorts.

Eyes widening in shook, you took in the white mask in front of you. Lifeless black eyes and a horrifyingly exaggerated mouth, one that left the expression into one of pure terror for eternity. The dark fabric surrounding it just exaggerated that pristine look, one of perfectly untouched cartilage.

Still, despite its velvety presence, you recognized the hands poking out from the robe. Bronze skin kissed by years in the sun, interrupted by the lines of scars that you had spent countless nights running your fingers over.

The hands were warm, just as they always were, as they slid over your thighs, forcing them open before sliding underneath the bottom hem of your pajamas.

He would watch you try not to moan as he brushed his thumb over your clit, caressing gentle circles over it before pushing a finger inside. The soft whimper he earned made his cock jump.

"That's right, gorgeous." The masked figure slid another digit in, undoubtedly smirking as he felt you clench around him.

"I wanna hear you scream."

#bnha #bnha imagines #hawks x reader #mha smut #mha #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #kinktober 2023 #ghostface #hawks bnha #hawks smut #bnha hawks #mha x reader #bhna smut

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catscidr · 3 months

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I think we have all seen the "Argenti thinks the Reader is Idrila" stuff on here. But what if the reader actually is Idrila? So I wanted to request Argenti/Idrila!Reader (gn or afab reader) headcanons or a oneshot where Idrila, who has taken on a mortal identity after [Insert tragic event here], and meets Argenti. They develop feelings for each other, Argenti finds out she is Idrila, they end up dating. (Maybe or maybe not in that specific order) I thought maybe after protecting her followers from Nanook she disappeared to ensure Nanook doesn't target them anymore? That part isn't as important so feel free to add whatever backstory you think fits^^ Thank you in advance, I really like your writing!

NONNIE omg im booting up star rail rn to stare at him lovingly. also i changed the scenario a smidge so reader is her own person while also being idrila? if that makes sense......?? yeah. also bc otherwise id be writing ten thousand words n i didnt want ur ask to grow dusty in my inbox d(;∀;d) but tysm for the prompt i couldn’t stop thinking about it ueue. also hey gang peep me trying to make my blog look more coherent n nicer looking. am i doin it ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: a smidge of amnesia and soulmate trope (it’s not that bad, trust), fluff, love at first sight (does that even count in this scenario....), argenti and reader are dancing around the topic a lot bc argenti is a gentleman and doesn’t want to pressure her to talk. blurbs to set up the plot + a fic after them hehe. not proofread, writer’s block is killing me includes: fem reader (he refers to reader as "my lady"), argenti, natasha, luocha is kinda there wc: 2,3k

-ˋˏ You’d go to Natasha’s clinic at least once every other day because you always had the worst migraines. To the point where you almost got beat up by a Flamespawn one time when you were clearing out calyxes (thankfully there was a Silvermane guard patrolling the area, otherwise you would’ve been charred). The doctor always says the same thing; “Stop looking for fights so often”, “Let your body rest”, “I can’t prescribe you antibiotics”, and your favorite, “Stop slamming my door open I can’t do anything about your headaches”. She was a good friend, but whenever she repeated how she couldn’t be of any help to your predicament, you’d wish you could just take that glass vial hanging from her outfit and chuck it far, far away out of spite.

-ˋˏ Obviously it wasn’t her fault- she'd done everything she could. Natasha even had you undergo the Underworld’s equivalent of an MRI scan because of how frequently you would visit her, insisting that something was wrong. The symptoms consisted of forgetting important things too often, feeling a foreign buzz in your limbs and brain, having a sudden burst of elemental energy come out of your attacks and a myriad of benign but annoying, irritating signs that something was up with you.

-ˋˏ It became more of a chore than anything to leave your room. Some days you felt fine, but then when you’d go out again and beat up wave after wave of enemies in Caverns of Corrosion you would keel over, clutching your head while vague images of what could only be described as a fever dream ran through your mind.

-ˋˏ You decided to leave the Underworld for some time- considering your absence like some sort of “vacation”. You heard of a wandering doctor (and merchant, apparently) by the name of Luocha and, from the people that crossed paths with him, it seemed like he was extraordinary at his job. A trek to the Xianzhou Luofu would be a long one, but after weighing your options you thought you’d give it a try (it was worth it if it meant you’d stop waking up at ungodly hours, holding your head in your hands while hoping, praying that the pain stops.)

-ˋˏ You (somehow) made your way to the Xianzhou Luofu from Jarilo-VI. As competent as you were however, being stranded on a foreign planet with no map nor local to guide you was... a challenge. In retrospect, maybe you should’ve gotten in contact with that Luocha doctor and had him come to Belobog instead of you going to him since, well, he was a traveling merchant. Going from planet to planet is what he does (you assume).

✧✧✧

If you had read up more on general information about the Luofu you would have been aware of how many enemies were roaming around the docking area. But you didn’t. So, unbeknownst to you, a rogue mara-struck soldier was on your tail, trying to sneak up to you to snag the goods you hid in your bag (which were basically just different types of painkillers and sustenance that bodes well on an upset stomach. He doesn’t know that though.)

Your head was throbbing; ever since you set foot on the planet, your physical health had slowly dropped down to levels you wouldn’t be enduring if it wasn’t for the promise of a competent doctor once you get to the main city. Painkillers weren��t working, your feet hurt and to make matters worse, you felt the familiar lack of something in your head. It was so bad to the point where you had to have a tangible mark somewhere to remind you that you did, in fact, just take something for your headache and if you took two more painkillers, your body wouldn’t agree with your decision. It was a struggle even remembering what you did five minutes ago, no way were you going to be in top shape, beating up every enemy crossing your way.

Clouds began covering the bright sun, casting shadows over the desolate, geometric area. You huff, irritated that, from the looks of it, you won’t be able to find a cozy place to set up camp. Though sleeping on a ground made of primarily iron and steel was considerably less nerve-wracking than sleeping on the mushy, cold, dirty ground of Jarilo-VI. So, with a pout aimed at no one in particular, you find some place that you deemed decent enough to set your humble tent. It wasn’t often that adventurers slept outside of safe zones, however with your condition you couldn’t afford to miss out on some rest and possibly get even more lost than you already are.

You set your heavy backpack down, rolling your shoulders to soothe the ache in your muscles from carrying something so bulky. As you ruffle through your belongings, you open a bottled soda and take a swift gulp, sighing contentedly at the pleasant taste on your tongue. Now that you were sat and could rest your bones (until you started setting up your tent, at least), your ears were able to pick up on some not-so-distant footsteps.

There’s no time for you to react; the mara-struck soldier that had been following you lunges at you, aiming for your bag. Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to yell, but before any sound can leave your mouth, a long, red and gold spear pierces the ground between you and the rabid man, making you yelp in surprise. You scurry as far back as you can in your current state; however, the soldier doesn’t have time to take advantage of your weakened stature. The owner of the spear lodges himself before your shaking figure and the mara-struck, yanking his spear out of the ground with impressive elegance, and summons an array of thorny vines to catch your assailant.

It takes little to no effort for the seasoned fighter to take down the mara-struck as he swings his weapon, swiftly knocking the blunt end on the soldier’s plexus, knocking the wind out of him. A strangled scream leaves his throat as he scampers away, leaving your belongings safe with you and the strange red-haired man. He lowers his spear, careful to keep the sharp edge far from you, and turns around to face you properly. His brows raise a smidge for a split second before he composes himself and bows before you, the action short and curt.

“It would have been a shame to lose a beauty such as yourself,” he says smoothly, straightening his back to look down at you with a warm smile. He stretches his hand out, a polite offer to help you stand up, as he continues speaking. “My name is Argenti, I belong to the Knights of Beauty. What might you be doing so far away from civilization, dear...?” he trails off, waiting for you to introduce yourself.

You were in a state of shock, your mind still processing what had happened in such a short amount of time, that you failed to notice the lack of pain at the back of your head. As you meekly tell him your name, you hold onto his hand to help yourself up- as soon as his armored glove comes in contact with your hand something flashes in your mind; too quick to allow you to think about it too much, or to recognize what you saw for a millisecond.

“So far away from civilization... do you know how to get to the city?” you ask as you feel a glimmer of hope spark in you. His words were refreshing, probably the best thing someone has ever said to you in the past month. He nods, reaching into his pocket to fish out a blue handkerchief embroidered with a delicate gold trim. Argenti hands it over to you and you gratefully take it, blotting the sweat and... dust off of your face.

“I have made my way around the Luofu for long enough to show someone the way,” he says kindly. “Besides, even if I didn’t, I would still offer to accompany you through your trek. It is my duty as a Knight of Beauty, for I must uphold chivalry and distinguished manners, in the name of the Goddess guiding me.” His words resonate within you, making you beam, nodding in understanding.

Your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by the knight. As you hand his handkerchief back, he smiles at you and gestures to your bag. “What brings you so far from your homeworld, my lady?” Argenti asks gently, though a glimmer of doubt swirls in his sparkling, verdant eyes. The question makes you pause, a memory flashing in your mind too suddenly for you to know what it meant. Although, from what you could tell, you knew you could trust him with what troubled you somehow.

“Ah, it’s a long story,” you start sheepishly, “I’ve been having these incredibly painful migraines recently. And sometimes I feel like my memory is fading too quickly for what would be considered normal,” you say, trailing off slightly at the end. “I’m looking for a healer, a doctor by the name of Luocha...?”

Somehow, the doctor was currently the least of your worries. You’d never felt so refreshed before, at least not that you could remember; simply being in Argenti’s presence seemed to be enough to make your aches disappear like a starskiff smoothly gliding through a cloudless sky.

“I’ve seen the man only a handful of times,” Argenti mutters aloud, pulling you out of your thoughts. “I can do my best to guide you to him, but if I may... you don’t seem to be injured?” the knight says, his voice trailing off into a questioning tone despite the observation. You shake your head, wondering how you should explain your predicament to the man.

“Like I said, it’s a long story,” you say again, shrugging sheepishly. You wondered if you should even go into the nitty gritty- he could always just be making small talk to help you get comfortable or something. Sensing your unease, he changes the spotlight to him instead.

“There’s no need to delve into details if you wish to keep them secret,” he says with a kind smile, bending down to take ahold of your hand- gently pressing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand. Red flushes your ears immediately, words caught in your throat at the sight of his hair cascading over his shoulders, a beautiful contrast from the gold and silver armor glittering in what was left of the sunlight.

“As for myself, like I mentioned earlier, I am a Knight of Beauty. I’m on a quest to find my dear Goddess Idrila once more, for I need to pay my respects to them after they saved me from a particularly grim fate.” His words echoed in your mind, your brows knitting together as you felt what could only be described as a cold bucket of water being dunked on your head. “I-Idrila?” you parrot, your voice coming out as a choked noise. Argenti perks up, the hand that had been softly holding onto yours now holding it with a firmer grip, his other hand joining it.

“Yes, Idrila. Have you ever heard of them? Or...” he trails off, looking deep into your eyes expectantly, almost as if he knew something you didn’t. His eyes seemed to suck you in, bringing a comfortable wave of warmth over you, making you yearn for something.

“I...” you begin, your gaze falling down to look at your feet. As you thought long and hard about what you wanted to say, what you tried to remember, you slowly look over to his spear, lying flat on the ground- long forgotten since the fight earlier. As if a lightbulb went off above your head, you perk up just as he did, and look at him, beaming. The words were caught in your throat; there was so much you wanted to say, to declare, to do in this moment of clarity, but with how fast your mind was running to catch you up on the current events of your life it was a struggle.

“Argenti,” you murmur, the name rolling off your tongue smoothly, as you realized seeing the traveling merchant was no longer required. Though the road might have been arduous, and you may have almost lost your mind in the process, being with Argenti suddenly made everything make sense. That’s why your migraines mysteriously disappeared as soon as you were in the knight’s presence, that’s why you had gaps in your memory, that’s why you were freakishly powerful... at convenient times.

Everything clicked into place.

The both of you share a pregnant pause, eyes locked together as the world seemed to come to a stop around you. If it were possible, you’re sure there would be delicate, silky rose petals floating around your figures, suspended in the air. You glance down at his lips, and for the first time, make a decision with a clear head.

His lips felt smooth against yours, the faint taste of vanilla mixed with roses transferring to your own lips. The kiss almost felt like it could be the result of a symbiotic relationship; now that you had Argenti, or at least had him by your side once again, you didn’t think you’d be able to continue on without him.

#i may or may not have butchered the ending bc i DIDNT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THEM /SOBS #i did my best #୧ ‧₊˚orderup!#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #argenti x reader #argenti x fem reader #argenti x you #argenti x y/n

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the-power-of-stuff · 2 months

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The Live-Action Sukka Manifesto that I Just Couldn't Keep in My Head

So I've been marinating in my live-action Sukka thoughts for the past three days, and when someone sent me an anon asking if I had any thoughts about the changes, at first I went, "DO I EVER?!" and proceeded to dump my entire brain on the page.

But then I worried maybe the anon wouldn't want to see my entire brain and figured I'd make my own post with my Many, Many Thoughts, and reel it in a bit when I answer the ask. And then link here if they're interested in the dissertation.

I'll put all the excessive details and spoilery stuff under a cut, but I'll start by saying, I didn't hate it! And I was afraid that I would.

There were things that I was bummed or had mixed feelings about, but there was also a lot that I genuinely enjoyed. All the Sukka interactions were cute and still had some decent character development, and I had fun with the episode overall (I've watched it thrice mind you, and definitely have not given the rest of the series that kind of attention). And I didn't necessarily dislike the differences from the original; I think I've just taken more of a "that was an interesting interpretation" approach.

But I better start that cut now, because I'm about to go on and on about this. I'd love to know what others think, though!! Even if the opinions aren't the same as mine! Please feel free to comment, reblog, shoot me an ask. If nothing else, I'm excited that the LA has gotten people talking about ATLA again.

So, I want to start with Suki’s characterization, which overall I found to be delightful, even if it was a bit of a watered-down version of her animated self.

In the original show, Suki is confident, sassy, and doesn’t take shit from anybody. She’s proud to the point of almost being arrogant, and even a little mean. What we get in the LA is someone who’s still confident in terms of her status and her skills, and still proud of her heritage and her role in her community, but with significantly less sass. And while LA Suki still seems like someone who wouldn’t take anyone’s shit, we don’t actually see LA Suki deal with that much shit from anyone (because Sokka isn’t really giving her any).

There is one moment in the show where her interaction with Sokka is a little contentious, which is when he tries to relate to her as a fellow guardian of his people. I think Suki’s question to Sokka about how is he protecting his village if he’s not there is meant to be a challenge to his swagger. However, the line is delivered with a softness that makes it seem as though Suki is, at least in part, genuinely curious. (This curiosity makes even more sense when we consider the fact that Suki’s eventually going to leave Kyoshi Island so she and her Warriors can take part in the war effort, and that she will have to contend with the question of “how do you do that without abandoning your people?” when coming to that decision. The LA lays a lot more of this groundwork than the animated show did: Suki outwardly expressing her desire to see the world, her mother’s secretive looks every time Suki gazes longingly at Sokka the possibilities…)

Compare these two moments, for example. These are both scenes where Suki expresses disbelief at Sokka's claims about his warrior-hood. But in the LA, Suki speaks rather quietly and mildly, in contrast to the brash sarcasm of her animated counterpart. LA Suki is also tilting her head down and away, looking at Sokka indirectly. OG Suki is leaning in close, getting in his face, smirking derisively with her hands on her hips.

I think there’s something to be said about the LA in general smoothing away certain personality traits that could be seen as negatives but that are actually strengths that are so narratively well-developed they occasionally show up as flaws (for instance, Katara’s fury, or lack thereof). Animated Suki is prideful and stubborn; she berates Sokka until he gives her sad puppy-dog eyes and has zero hesitation about making an example of him in front of her whole class. It’s a little ruthless, but these traits are also 1) what gets through Sokka’s thick skull (he, too, is prideful and stubborn), and 2) what makes her such a dedicated ambassador of Kyoshi and such a strong leader of the island’s Warriors at such a young age. I feel like the LA writers were afraid of making any of the protagonists seem too abrasive—everyone in the LA has had their edges sanded down, including Zuko, including Aang—and in general this tends to lead to less realistic representations of humanity and conflict, less satisfying character development arcs, and fewer opportunities for reflection and learning.

That being said! I went into watching the LA with negative expectations about what we would see in terms of character development, and thus was pleasantly surprised.

The LA removed the need for Suki to be as ruthlessly stubborn as she is in the animated show because LA Sokka’s skull is not so thick (and I'll get into that a bit more later). So what we get instead is a sheltered Suki with a helicopter mom who is so hilariously awkward that she has no idea how to interact with other humans. And, to be honest, I enjoyed this version of her so much that I even thought to myself, “I wish I’d thought of that!”

Suki is a straight-up weirdo in the LA and I love that for her. The way she puts Sokka in a chokehold and then looks at him after she sets him free like, “That was good flirting, yes? Would you like to be my boyfriend now?” And then her disappointment when Sokka walks away as if she’s thinking, “Why didn’t that go well, I thought boys loved getting put in chokeholds?” She is so precious, I just want to put her in my pocket. And this characterization might even be more broadly relatable than a super-confident Suki brimming with sass. Who among us hasn’t made a complete fool of ourselves in front of a crush by coming on way too strong and having no idea how to flirt? I mean…real.

And because Sokka is also mostly just making a fool of himself trying to impress a pretty and talented peer (instead of covering up his insecurities by wrapping himself in misogyny) this leaves room for the two of them to be attracted to each other right off the bat and for their interactions to be more overtly romantic throughout the entire episode. Which, avid shipper that I am, I have to admit I have been gobbling up for the past three days straight. This episode was an IV drip of romantic tropes hooked straight to every Sukka shipper’s veins.

Shy glances from across the room? Check.

Walking in on the other person half-naked? Check. (Y’all, Suki looks Sokka up and down for a FULL TWENTY SECONDS yes I timed it from the moment she appears in the background, yes you should count it to see how long that really is. Talk about awkward.)

Tripping so they end up falling into each other’s arms? Check.

Wide-eyed shock that turns into surprise thirst after being pinned to the ground? Check.

Shooting each other satisfied smirks as they kick ass side-by-side? Check.

Jumping in front of literal fire for each other? Check and check!

Like, I could live off this for the rest of the year.

But look, there’s a lot that I love about the way Sokka and Suki’s relationship is portrayed in this episode besides those romantically indulgent tension-creating moments, and it has to do with Suki’s admiration and validation of Sokka.

Suki really looked at this boy with his mouth stuffed half-full of steamed bun and went, “Must have.”

With the removal of overt sexism from this episode (for better or worse), the story focused much more heavily on Sokka’s development as a leader. He still has that sort of posturing display of self-confidence that comes from inexperience and trying too hard to prove oneself (“Ferociously…deadly tiger whales…”), and while at first Suki seems put off by this and his attempts to liken himself to her (“I’m not just a warrior, I’m a Kyoshi warrior”) it doesn’t take her long to decide (*cough*after seeing him shirtless*cough*) that she doesn’t actually mind this behavior (and in fact maybe she kind of likes it because maybe it means he likes her and maybe it means she can show him how much she likes him by slicing the tops off all those melons with her fan). She seems genuinely interested in his boomerang and impressed that he hunts, and then later, she immediately takes interest in training him in the Kyoshi Warrior style.

After they spar, she casually refers back to the fact that he’s his village’s protector, and this time, she does it without the disbelief and defensiveness. Because he’s finally stopped posturing. He opened himself up and gave himself over to Suki’s expertise, and in that way he proved that he has the will and desire—the heart—of a warrior. And Suki tells him so while touching him gently and gazing at him longingly in the soft golden glow of the late-afternoon sun. And as a die-hard Sokka stan, I love seeing him loved and appreciated like this. Adamantly. Ardently. The Sokka cheerleader in my head is going wild. “YEESSSS!! Our boy deserves this!!” Because we know that, in the animated show, he goes through a lot more struggle and self-doubt before he receives this kind of external validation. And while we also know that this makes for an incredibly satisfying growth arc, I gotta admit that it’s a fun bit of indulgence to watch Suki talk Sokka up directly to his face and then want to kiss him really bad. Y’know. As a treat.

That said, I'm very attached to and appreciative of the way their relationship is framed in the animated series. I love that their respect and affection for each other grows even after the disaster that is their first few interactions. In the LA, they are drawn to each other immediately, and the only barrier seems to be a bit of awkward stepping-in-it-ness. In the original, they have legitimate conflict, and they both have to give a little—Sokka becomes more humble, Suki becomes more tender—before they get to that point of potential romantic interest. And I think it says a lot about Sokka’s character and his desire to learn and grow that he is willing to humble himself in front of someone who, as far as he’s seen, has very little regard for him (slash has a good deal of animosity towards him). Giving himself over to Suki’s expertise costs him more in the animated show. But once he does, he and Suki learn and grow together. He shows Suki who he really is, shows her how dedicated and determined (and fun and a quick learner) he is, to the point that, by the end of the episode, she can allow herself to be vulnerable with him. And she does validate him in the original Kyoshi Warriors episode, just less directly than the LA. Her kiss on his cheek and “...but I’m a girl, too” is about forgiveness and acceptance and acknowledgement and respect, as much as or even more than it is about affection. There’s a little bit of romance, too, but it’s just little baby seeds of it, and it feels very natural to let those seeds germinate over time until we see Suki again later in the series.

Which brings me to the live-action kiss.

I’ll be honest, I was a little on the fence about the kiss. I want Sokka and Suki to kiss as much as possible in every conceivable universe. So there’s a part of me that was banging on the table and whistling with obscene joy. But the other part of me thought it was too much too soon. However, my hesitance pre-supposes some things about the second season (not least of which that there will be one), namely that it will handle the reunion with Suki and crossing the Serpent’s Pass anything like how it was done in the original. (Of course, one thing we now know for certain can't happen in a hypothetical LA season 2 is Suki pranking Sokka at the ferry station because he doesn't recognize her without her makeup. Do I love the expression on LA Sokka's face the first time he sees Suki's? Yes. Am I sad that this completely ruins their whole "You don't remember me? Maybe you'll remember this!" game? Also yes. But truthfully, I don't know if LA Suki would've been up to the prank, anyway. Not sassy enough. ;))

The Serpent’s Pass is one of my favorite episodes of all time, and that moment on the bluffs when Sokka and Suki are talking around Sokka’s loss, with the moon shining down on them all the while, and they almost kiss with the moon hanging between them in the background, and then Sokka pulls away without any other explanation besides, “I can’t”? That scene is so absurdly powerful and beautiful and an amazing moment of character development for them both, and I feel like it loses a lot of impact if they’ve already made out once. The fact that they kiss for the first time after that moonlit moment, when Sokka realizes that Suki doesn’t need protecting the way he thought she did, and in fact she was there to protect him, and he can finally just let go of this burden that he’s been carrying with him since Suki first mentioned she was joining them (slash since his dad put him in charge of an entire village at 13), and then and only then can he open his heart to what he feels for Suki, and in fact opens it so wide that he just cannot help but jam his mouth onto hers before she’s even finished talking…? I mean. C’mon. That’s poetry. But, again…loses impact if they’ve already had a first kiss.

But who knows what, if anything, they’ll actually do with that storyline. So for now, I’ll just enjoy my live-action Sukka kiss because, honestly, dream come true.

Or almost a dream come true. Because there's a huge camelephant in the room that I haven't addressed yet, isn't there? The lack of Sokka in the Kyoshi Warrior uniform...

And I don’t think we can talk about the omission of Sokka’s Kyoshi Warrior uniform without talking about the omission of Sokka’s sexism. Because if Sokka isn’t sexist, then why do you have to put him in the dress and makeup of traditionally female warriors to make a point about how women are strong and capable, too? So here’s what I’ll say about that (and I know there’s a lot that people have said already, so I’ll try not to belabor the point.) I don’t think leaving out Sokka’s sexism was necessarily a detriment to his character arc. I do think, however, that leaving out Sokka’s sexism was a detriment to the message the show was trying to convey about sexism.

Now, in the Northern Water Tribe episodes, the LA still gives us a message about fighting against the kind of systemic, institutionalized sexism that you might not be surprised to encounter within a very old-fashioned society or from a very old-fashioned gray-haired man. But what about the off-the-cuff, everyday kind of sexism that you might experience from an otherwise good person who is close to you? A person who loves you and would do anything for you but who gets carried away teasing you about “girly” things because of intrinsically-held biases that they’re not even that conscious of having?

I think it’s important and meaningful for male and female audiences alike, and everyone in between, to see these different forms of sexism and misogyny—to see them, to recognize those behaviors in others and in ourselves, to be able to name them, and to have examples of fighting against them. We see the former kind—institutionalized, systemic—in Pakku. And we did see the latter kind—familiar, personal—in Sokka. And now that’s lost.

Not only that, but there’s the form of sexism that says boys aren’t allowed to do feminine things lest they relinquish their maleness. And in the animated show, we got to see Sokka combating this form of sexism, too. Not only does Suki show him that girls can be fierce warriors as well as boys, but he learns that wearing makeup and a dress does not make him any less of a young man.

So, yes, I think the lack of Sokka in Kyoshi Warrior garb was a missed opportunity. And not just because Sokka looked really good in uniform and we all should have had the chance to see that, including and especially Suki.

Alright, this is more than long enough, so I'll leave off with a moment from the LA that gave me great pleasure.

I needed this moment, y'all. And I was so afraid it wouldn't happen. I needed Sokka being protective, I needed him using his newfound Kyoshi Warrior skills to fight, and I needed him jumping in front of fire for the girl who'd taught him. If we couldn't have Sokka in the Kyoshi Warrior uniform, at least we had this.

#natla #natla spoilers #sukka #live action atla #netflix atla #spoilers #sokka x suki #suki x sokka #gifs #my gifs #sukka gifs #meta #sukka meta #analysis

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starssunsoftheinfinite · 1 year

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so. I have been plagued. By thoughts.

Mainly of Loki. Loki being soft. Like,, male! Reader being so exhausted and unable to do much so. He takes care of them?? If that makes sense?

(Feel free to ignore!)

-💚

Sorry for the long wait! Stuff got pretty busy lol. This was a really fun thing to get me in the writing mood again though! There's another ask in my inbox so I'll get to that after! I just chose this one first since I knew it would be more low key (pun intended) and shorter.

I also wrote this on my phone so apologies if its a little odd looking I'm not sure if it'll translate well on laptops.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Fluff/comfort

Male reader x loki

Pet names used (sweet boy, pet, love, my darling, dear (for loki))

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your day had been overwhelmingly hard and incredibly overbearing. So much had happened at work, the job Loki insists you need not do on Midguard but you insist you do your part despite your lovers royal status securing more than enough money for the both of you. It was a retail job and while that may sound simple any mortal such as your self would know otherwise. Heimdall brings you back to Asgard and can already tell your warn out, satchel bairly handing onto your shoulder. "ah, y/n. You look well." he said in a genuine tone but it was clear by the smug look he was giving he meant to tease. You roll your eyes playfully "ha ha" you said, tilting your head to emphasise each exaggerated laugh. "Loki is waiting for you in your chambers." Heimdall says helpfully, smiling softly and giving a nod to urge you down the rainbow bridge. The walk was long and tireing, your thighs and calves hurt already, the hours of standing causing them strain, so a long walk was not ideal. Finally you pressed your palm against the cool gold doors of your shared bedroom and you throw your bag onto the armchair in the corner. "be careful you may break something" Loki teased and you roll your eyes, you've done that a lot today. You sit at your desk, planning to doodle. Nothing serious just mindless scribbles until your mind feels less like bile. You pull out the drawer and take out a pencil then go to sharpen it. Snap. The led breaks. Snap. It breaks again. Snap- "ugh!" you yell. Loki had already been keeping an eye on you, easily able to tell something was testing your patience. His eyes widen and he stands from where he lay on the bed, shutting his book. "Love? Are you quite alright?" he whispers softly, standing beside you but not too close, wanting to give you your space. "Im- mm" you barely begin the second word before your face is scrunching up and you whimper. Today had been so difficult but now you'd been pushed over the edge by something so small. Hands reach out to cup your face, crouching down a little to your sitting level "oh my sweet boy, no, don't cry. It's alright. I'm here my Darling." he cooes and you sink into his touch, whimpering and quivering. "today has been difficult hasn't it pet?" all you could do was nod. There was a comfortable silence between you two as he held you close. "up to your feet sweet boy, come to bed with me." he offers, gently helping you out of your seat and leading you to the soft sheets and comfort of bed. Loki crawls in and opens his arms, motioning you to lay against his chest and you happily do so. He runs his fingers through your hair" everything will be all right my love, everything will be alright. "he soothes and it's like his words are law. Your muscles loosen and your head grows empty, far too focused on the calming sound of his voice the gentle touch of his hands." there you are. No need to worry or fret. I am here. You are safe here. " he hummed. As the world melted away and all you could hear was Lokis voice and the comforting continuous sound of his heart beat, all you could feel was his hands on your skin and in your hair, and all you could smell was the warm scent of his lavender shampoo and black cherry soap, you felt your eyes grow heavier and heavier. "that's it sweet boy, you deserve rest. Take as much as you need. I will be right here when you wake. I promise." he hooked a finger under your jaw and tilted your head up ever so slightly. He craned his neck and pressed a kiss to your forehead, "I love you, my sweet Prince." he whispers and a small smile graces your lips "I love you too Dear.." your sentence trailed off into silence and soft breaths.

#Loki #loki x you #loki x male reader #loki x reader #marvel x male reader #mcu x male reader #loki x y/n #marvel x reader #mcu x reader

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opposums-love-arson · 7 months

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Scream Queen Book 1: Conventional Final Girl

Chapter 7

Chapter 6 / Chapter 8

P.S. lmk if y'all would like to be added to the taglist <3

Before I knew it the party was coming to a slow and kids were leaving. It makes sense since it’s like 8:45. Parents have gotten strict with curfew considering all the stuff that’s been going on. Sid and I were standing at the front doorway with Stu.

“Tatum c’mon!” Sid shouted, really wanting to leave now.

“Nobody here but us chickens!” Someone shouted from the house, then they started klucking…?

“Do you know where she is?” I asked Stu.

Looking around he says, “I haven’t seen her anywhere,” with a shrug.

Just as Sid and I were going to walk out Billy jumps in the door frame making some weird noise and scaring Sid in the process.

“Oh, Billy hey,” She said with an uneasy expression.

“Billy, hmm what are you doing here?” Stu said looking in between the two and scratching his chin with his index finger.

...yeah, what is he doing here?

“Was hoping I could talk to Sid alone,” Billy said, looking at both Stu and I.

Sid couldn’t see it because her back was facing me but I had a slight hurt expression on my face.

“Ya know if Tatum sees you here, She’ll draw blood,” I tell Billy in a very agitated and frustrated tone. I was ready to grab Sid and just leave without Tatum, sorry.

Before I could do anything Stu grabbed me by the waist locking my torso in when he said, “I’ll tell you what, go up to my parents’ room, ya’ know you guys can talk,” slamming his fist into his hand making my body move side to side a bit.

“Or whatever,” Stu says again, drawing the word out.

“Stublty Stu, ya know you should look it up,” Billy said, shying his head away to the side.

Sid looks at me, unsure of what to do. I think about it for a second but I know how much they care for each other… obviously.

I smile to her and nod.

Looking back at Billy she said, “No it’s okay, we do need to talk,” grabbing Billy’s hand and leading him upstairs.

Billy was about to punch Billy before he saw me. He put down his fist and gave a guilted look.

Stu let me go once Randy came into the room and asked, “What’s leatherface doing here?”

Leatherface would never betray someone like that… rude.

“Came to make up,” Stu said in a tone that people usually use when they see a small puppy.

“There goes my chance with Sid, dammit,” Randy said, stepping away from Stu and I.

“As if,” Stu paused, “That’s all I’m saying, as if.”

Looking over at me Randy gave a confused look.

Shutting the door I cleared, “He’s saying you never had a chance, Randy.”

I tuned out to whatever Randy said next, I just had the intention of catching up with Stu. “What the fuck Stu?” I asked, tugging on his robe that looked just like the last one. “What?” He asked, feigning innocence like he didn’t know what I meant. “Why would you and Billy do what you did hours ago then just switch up like that?” I asked, hurt but discrete about what I’m saying. You never know who might be listening. “Look we talked and he just decided not to,” Stu said with a shrug and that ridiculous stupid grin that makes me want to punch. Wouldn’t be the first time. “Just decided not to? After five months, really Stu?” I asked as I teared up, crossed my arms, and hung my head low. Stu hugged me and motioned to other people a drinking signal with his hands and then pointed down at me. “Look (y/n), I wasn’t supposed to tell you this but the truth is...Billy just wanted to use you to get closer to Sid. I on the other hand am still free for the taking,” Stu said as he crouched down to my level and held me by my upper arms. “No you’re not, you still have a girlfriend,” I laughed a little as I wiped the tears from my eyes. I looked to the side, I didn’t really want to make eye contact with a liar right now. Stu shook his head and said, “Nah Tatum and I were talking in the garage and broke up,” as he waved his wrist. “I still don’t know Stu… I mean you two just broke up, if anything we should wait-” I was cut off from my sentence when Stu straightened up and hoisted me up, pushing me against the wall before kissing me. Kids around us were cheering, whether it was for us or the girl who just got slashed on the screen, I wasn’t sure. At least I think it was the screen? I just heard distant screaming, it totally could’ve been two other teenagers who were “talking” upstairs. “Stu what the fuck?” I asked as he placed me back down. “What I thought that’s what you wanted?” He asked, putting his hands up in a ‘I surrender’ sort of way. “Yeah but not like this…” I said as I crossed my arms. Stu grabbed one of my arms and twirled me around. “Look, I’m single, you’re single, so let’s just mingle.” He chimed into my ear. I pushed him lightly as I rolled my eyes and gave a soft smile.

Stu and I made up, now we’re sitting on the couch with a group of people watching Halloween, one of my favorites and one of the iconics.

“Wait wait, here it comes!” A kid said at the scene of Bob opening the closet to reveal Michael.

Woes and ‘no ways’ could be heard from the group as they jumped back.

“Awe man the color of the blood is all wrong! Why did they do that, it’s too red?” some kid shouted.

“They probably just used food dye and squibs like almost every other movie,” I mumbled as I sat uncomfortably on Stu’s lap.

“Wait, here comes another!” Randy said as he placed his fist on a kid’s knee.

“Oohs” and a loud “Yes!” could be heard from the group.

“Predictable, I knew he was gonna buy it.” A kid said from behind the couch.

“How can you watch this shit over and over?” Another one said.

I was going to say something but Stu blurted out, “I wanna see breasts, I wanna see Jamie Lee’s breasts. When do we see Jamie Lee’s breasts?!” as he held out his hand.

I just rolled my eyes.

“Breasts? Not until Trading Places in 83, Jamie Lee was always-”

I interrupted by saying, “She’s the final girl, you’re not going to see that stuff from the heroine of the movie.”

Randy furrowed his eyebrows at me before saying, “That’s why she always outsmarted the killer when they chased her, only virgins can do that, don’t you know the rules?”

“What rules?” Stu asked.

“Oh no, here he goes…” I groaned as I threw my head back.

“You-” Randy paused the tv, “Jesus christ, you don’t know the rules?” He asked as he stood up and grabbed his beer.

“Have an aneurysm, why dontcha?” Stu said as he looked up at the soon to be babbling buffoon.

“There are certain RULES that one must abide by to successfully survive a horror movie. For instance, number one; you can never have sex!” Randy zipped his arm to the right.

An uproar of booing came from the ‘audience’ of Randy’s lecture. I just sunk lower into Stu’s lap.

“Hey, no, big no no!” Randy shouted as everyone threw popcorn at him.

Stu said something I didn’t quite understand then stuck his tongue out, how the fuck is it so long?

“Sex scenes yeah, okay rule number two; you can never drink or do drugs!” Randy stated as he pointed outward with an ‘ok’ symbol hand.

Everyone clinked their beer glasses together while I, once again, sunk lower into Stu’s lap.

That was before Stu patted my leg, signaling me to get up. So I did.

A kid clicked bottles with Randy as he said, “It’s a sin, it’s an extension of number one. And number three; never, ever, under any circumstances say ‘I’ll be right back’ cause you won’t be back.”

“Getting another beer, you want one?” Stu asks Randy as he stands up straight.

“Yeah, sure,” Randy says as he waves off Stu.

Stu screamed out, “I’ll be right back!” Leaving the room with kids screeching and ooing,

“See you push the laws and you end up dead,” said Randy as he held out his beer, “Okay I’ll see you in the kitchen with a knife.”

After Stu came back with the beers everyone let out some sighs of relief and we continued watching the movie. “Were you scared?” Stu whispers in my ear. “Huh? Of what?” I asked, turning a little so I could still see the tv screen. “For me, were you scared I wouldn’t come back alive?” Stu joked as he poked my side. “Yeah I was definitely scared. I was ready to start crying and hunt down your killer like the sorority girls in Black Christmas,” I whispered before letting out a small laugh.

It felt like minutes before Stu was walking people out of the house. I posted up on the kitchen counter just sitting and eating snacks. I decided I’ve watched enough horror for the night, which is so weird even for me to say. I think I couldn't take anymore of the kids’ screaming and shouting every time something small happened. Stu came in briefly earlier to give me a kiss on the cheek as he went to get more beers. I was eating popcorn before I heard Randy say, “Listen up, they found Principal Himbry dead. He was gutted and hung from the goal post on the football field.” That’s enough popcorn for one night… A bunch of kids ran out the front door and were hitting the walls.

Tag list: @katie-tibo @thatoneuchiha

#scream 1996 #scream fanfic #billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #stu macher x reader #billy x reader #scream #scream x yn #stu x reader #halloween

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solarisfortuneia · 11 months

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hello! mika here.

i've wanted to make a sort of gift exchange event for a while now, simply because i thought it'd be fun. and i thought what better time than when this blog's reached a milestone? (thank you for two hundred!! i'm glad you find my stuff worth sticking around for <3)

more details utc!

— welcome to the summer santa event!

✦ this is essentially a gift exchange event where you're assigned someone at random to send a gift to (be it a written piece or some art or the like) and you get a gift in return from someone else. (so basically secret santa lol)

— who can particpate?

✦ anyone and everyone! all i ask is that you have fun doing this <3

— how to participate?

✦ just reblog and fill up this form! it'll ask you for a few details like your url, your favorite characters, your favorite tropes and your least favorite tropes etc. (so the person making your gift has something to go off of.)

✦ note: the last date to fill this form in is july 10th. after that, you'll be assigned someone to send a gift to! (and i'll send you the aforementioned details in your inbox a couple of days after!)

— by when should the gift be ready?

✦ by the end of august should be alright!! i'm aiming for the gifts to be handed out by then or by the first week of september. (if you can't make that, it's no problem!! just shoot me an ask and we'll work it out)

— a few additional notes:

✦ all sfw works, obviously! suggestive should be okay methinks, depending on the person sending and the one receiving it.

✦ i'll make a masterlist of all the works too, so that we have a nice little collection to remember this event by.

✦ i'll be tagging everything related to this event with '— summer santa.' if you'd like to keep an eye on updates, reblogs and such.

✦ nothing is 'secret', so if you're curious and want to know who got you, you can always ask!! (but i won't be giving that information directly so those who'd like to be surprised can be surprised <3)

✦ feel free to talk to me if you have any questions or if you run into any issues!

✦ for uniformity's sake, i'm setting a loose lower limit for fics— around 500 words min.— but i'm not sure how to put a limit for other works? (if it makes sense, something equivalent to 500 words? as in, not too big, not too small?)

✦ and lastly, please don't be too stressed while doing this!! this is just meant to be a fun little thing for everyone <3

tagging: @ineshapanda @ilyuu @floraldresvi hello my loves it's finally out!! (i'm excited hehe)

#—🎉#— summer santa.

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sebsbarnes · 3 months

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heyyyy hope it makes sense when i explain for tan x reader. So reader and twins work together sometimes so are kind of friends in the field and she gets on really well with lemon and with tan too but they bicker a lot sometimes. Basically there is this get together thingy for ther organization or smth and lemon is quite sociable and talks with alot of people and tan is kinda quiet so is kinda bored when it comes to these things since lemon is just chatting to anyone so when reader and ladybug (cuz they're kinda work buddies) arrive to the party and reader sees tan just standing by himself she goes over to him and they just end up chatting and having a laugh (maybe a bit drunk) the whole night and lemon and ladybug are just laughing when its time to go and they are both getting along better than anyone thought possible. Its kinda detailed but i hope it makes sense :)))

hey!! ahh this is a good idea! and it made perfect sense to help me outline what to write, thank u!

new friends, new love || tangerine

tangerine x f!reader

warnings: mentions of injuries , language, normal ole' bullet train stuff

word count: 1.3k+ ; fluff

masterlist

a/n: this is kinda dialogue heavy which normally isn't my style so eek i hope that's okay

"play nice," you hissed, "you still aren't in their good graces. you're lucky i'm friends with them so they didn't hunt you down after japan."

ladybug groaned at the force of your finger pointed in his chest, "yeah yeah," he dismissed you.

with that, you rolled your eyes and entered the building. it was a private event, a get-together really, thrown by the organizations that hire you out for contract jobs. a chance to network and meet some faces that you may not have seen in a while.

"there they are!" a voice yelled startling you and ladybug. coming at you was lemon with a wide grin on his face. he pivoted around and threw his arms over yours and ladybug's shoulders.

"always a pleasure, my dear," he said to you before turning to ladybug, "and i still want to rip your fuckin' head off, mate."

ladybug smiled sheepishly at lemon who then released you both from his grip. you diverted your attention to looking around the room. it was well-decorated and dimly lit. there was waitstaff walking around and offering refills on drinks. towards the bar was a long table piled with hors d'oeuvres. bosses you have had were chatting amongst themselves cracking jokes with one another.

and then there was tangerine. he had one foot propped up, leaning onto the high-top table. his thumb and middle finger holding onto the whiskey glass. he was far away from anyone else at the event and you could see he was scanning the room watching everyone interact with one another. his white button-down shirt and gold necklace hung low near the table with his hair free of any gel. when he made eye contact with you and found your feet carrying you to him.

"hiding out?" you teased.

tangerine tilted his head to the side at you. his eyes squinting just a bit with a charming smirk on his face, "caught me."

"i really don't remember johannesburg!" lemon belly laughed.

"well i sure do!" ladybug exasperated throwing his arms to the side, the drink in his glass spilt on his hand.

"oh! and then you almost killed my brother! so, seems like we are a bit even," lemon announced.

"will you always hold that over my head?"

"yes."

"oh god. if i didn't intervene on the bullet train i think we all would've died before the crash," you grumbled, remembering how much of an idiot ladybug had been to tangerine and lemon.

"yeah your little friend is lucky you had his back or there'd be a bullet between his eyes," tangerine replied, twirling the liquid in his glass.

"would you have done the same to me?" you asked and although you meant to sound joking it came out far more serious than you anticipated.

tangerine sucked the brown liquor between his teeth, "i'd never do anything to hurt you. i'd hurt myself before i'd hurt you."

lemon and ladybug barely took a breath since they started chatting and any poor soul that walked past them was sucked into some nonsensical conversation, trapping them for at least fifteen minutes. these guys could talk and talk and truthfully it was impressive.

"ha! who knew tangerine had a soft spot?" ladybug laughed, nodding his chin over to the wall you and tangerine were occupying.

lemon chuckled through his nose, a small smirk appearing on his face, "only for her."

ladybug harshly grabbed carver, who was now standing next to them, on the shoulder and shook him slightly, "thanks for bailing on kyoto so the lovebirds over there could meet. it's kinda like i'm cupid, right? i brought her with me on the mission and now she found love! i should journal about this."

ladybug continued to talk about how journaling has helped his inner peace and how his therapist thought his progress was improving rapidly so their sessions should be more spread out. though lemon was listening and throwing in the occasional 'yeah' or 'really?', his eyes were trained on tangerine who was fully engaged in the conversation with you. he found it amusing. only hours earlier tangerine had been whining and complaining about having to go and how he hated socializing. lemon drew his attention away as tangerine grabbed your arm.

"jesus, this is a bad cut," tangerine said in disbelief looking at a deep cut with angry scar tissue, "where are the people that did this to you?"

with a devilish grin you leaned towards his face, "six feet under."

tangerine sucked his cheeks in, lips pouted slightly. he was amused. the glint in your eyes as you refused to look away from him almost became unbearable. he just found you so enthralling and if he could he'd stand here all night talking to you, leaning against the wall till he became one with the paint.

you and tangerine had always bumped heads but never anything serious. you both could take the jokes thrown at the other and sometimes it moved into a weird grey area of flirting that neither of you minded. but things really did change on the bullet train when you saved tangerine's life. ladybug was going to shoot tangerine no matter what and even you couldn't change that, but, what helped was your piercing scream caused ladybug to slightly shift his aim when he fired the gun. the bullet still hit tangerine's neck though not as deep as it would've.

"you fucking idiot, ladybug!" you roared. the whole time on the train you wanted the four of you to work as a unit, but ladybug being as hardheaded as he was made it difficult.

"i thoug-,"

"go get the fucking girl. like i told you earlier," you cut him off now bringing your full attention to tangerine who was groaning in pain.

"i'm sorry. i know, i know this hurts but you can't fight me off. it's either i do this or you die and i really don't fucking want that," you told him sternly as you basically straddled his body to keep your hands pressed to his wound.

"l-lemon?" tangerine asked through heavy breaths.

"he's alive. he was passed out or something and i tossed him around to wake up so he's okay, okay? now you need to be also. for him... and for me."

"i don't think i ever properly thanked you for saving me," he pondered, accent thick.

"there's no need to... you would've done the same for me," you winked. you two lulled in the silence, sipping at your now watered-down drinks. you aren't sure why but you wanted to hold his hand, maybe it was the slight buzz from the drink, so you did. tangerine didn't pull away or ask you why. he was grateful for the dim lights in the room hiding the pink hue on his cheeks. he hoped you didn't feel how his hands were clammy with nerves but you did and made no mention of it.

"alright kids!," ladybug yelled, "let's head out!"

ladybug and lemon approached the two of you slightly swaying from the drinks they've consumed. tangerine went to pull his hand away but you didn't budge and squeezed his hand tighter. he looked at you with a shy smile and you flashed him a smile back.

"come on," you said using your other hand to pat his chest.

"we are getting food, you guys coming?" lemon slightly slurred.

tangerine peered at you, "of course."

the four of you exited the building and walked off to get food. lemon and ladybug seemingly put their rocky past behind them as they continued to toss jokes back and forth. maybe it was just the alcohol talking and tomorrow they'd wake up still displeased with the other. but tomorrow you and tangerine would wake up with the same fuzzy feeling in your stomachs that you have right now as your hands swung together, shoulders bumped, and shy smiles on your faces like you two were forbidden to be with the other and were sneaking off into the night.

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