#and when he first sees the guy he says ‘where’d you come from’

[adharafirenze]

Here’s some of my damned gifs <33 I got all of these from the YouTube video called ‘The Damned - New Rose (Live at Eventim Apollo, London - October 29, 2022)’

Enjoy <333

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

HEAR ME OUT!! ollie thinking felix is single right, hanging out at oxford and everything and then one night felix is nowhere to be seen and he finds him with a girl. turns out feliz is vv much not single but ollie knows her as the smart girl of the school so he's shocked by the pairing?!?!?!

Who would've thought? || Felix Catton x reader

A/n: I actually hate how I did this but oh well, also, my first felix catton fic did so well so quickly!!!! so happy you guys enjoyed it :)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, drinking, idk rlly im so bad w my warnings 😭

Wc: 764

Felix Catton Masterlist

"Gorgeous, isn't he?" Your voice causes Oliver to flinch as he whips his head to where the sound of your voice came from. "W-what-" He stammers. You giggle at his behaviour, taking a long drag from the cigarette before dropping it to the ground and stepping on it.

"I see the way you stare at him, Ollie. I don't blame you though, he's a sight for sore eyes," You sigh, leaning your head against the wall, watching Felix with his friends.

Oliver didn't know what to say. He only stared at you before gravitating his gaze back to Felix. Oliver knew you as one of the smartest girls at school, your grades rivalling with his.

"You can admit it. He's gorgeous." You open your mouth again, turning your head at Oliver with a grin. He gulps. "I-uhm-" He began before you interrupt him, "Come on, Ollie" Your tone was playful.

"He's gorgeous." Oliver quickly replied as you smile. You push yourself off the wall, patting Ollie's shoulder before leaving him standing there dumbfounded.

~

"Fuck!" You curse as you feel the hot liquid cascade down your front. You let out a loud groan, throwing your coffee cup in a nearby bin. "I'm so sorry-" "It's fine! Completely fine," You mutter to the idiot who bumped into you because his eyes was trained on a book.

You let out a deep sigh, checking your watch. You would be late if you turned back around to change. "Hey! Y/n!" You hear a voice call out from behind you. Turning your head you spot Oliver coming your way on his bike.

“Hey?” you greet him with a hint of confusion. Without a word, he unzips his backpack, pulling out a plaid shirt. “Wear this to cover the spill,” he suggests, a warm smile accompanying the gesture. You conceal any distaste with a subtle expression, graciously accepting the offered shirt.

“Uhm-” “Just return it later when you can,” he cuts you off, not giving you time to answer before riding off. You stand there, looking down at the plaid shirt, before letting out a sigh and slipping it on.

“Cute shirt, babe,” your boyfriend chuckles, and you respond with an eye roll, sitting down with a loud huff escaping your lips. “Don’t even. Some idiot bumped into me on the way here,” you mutter, opening your notebook aggressively.

Farleigh strolls in, joining the two of you, “Woah, loving the shirt, y/n. Where’d you get it from? The charity shop?” He jokes, prompting you to scowl at him. He raises his hands in surrender as Felix’s chuckles resonate beside you.

“Jesus, what’s got your panties tied up in a knot?” he laughs, taking a seat beside you while you choose to ignore him. Suddenly, Felix exclaims, “Oh, shit! Farleigh, we gotta go. Professor Davies wants to see us,” checking his watch before swiftly getting up.

Farleigh vents his frustration with a groan, “Sorry, babe. See you later?” Felix plants a kiss on your cheek, and you nod in response, waving the two boys off before redirecting your focus to the notebook in front of you.

“Hey,” you raise your head to find Oliver approaching. Flashing a warm smile, you greet him with a friendly, “Hi Oliver,” your attention briefly returning to your book as he stands there, exuding a hint of awkwardness.

“I’ll make sure to return your shirt once it’s washed,” you reassure him, receiving a silent nod in acknowledgment. Returning to your book, you shift your attention back to him, “Is there anything else you need?” He nervously scratches his neck. “Do you mind if I study with you?” His question catches you slightly off-guard.

“Absolutely, feel free,” you graciously respond, rearranging your belongings to create space for him to settle. A warm smile graces his face as he takes the offered seat, expressing gratitude with a simple “Thanks.” You reciprocate with a light chuckle, assuring him, “No problem at all.”

~

“He is such a nerd,” Farleigh snorts as you roll your eyes, your fingers moving to play with Felix’s necklace around his neck. Noticing your quietness, Felix looks at you on his lap. “You okay?” He says quietly as you hum, taking a sip out of his glass, before pressing your cheek against his, your eyes wandering around the table.

“I should probably go now, I don’t wanna study too late,” You let out a quiet sigh as you get up from your boyfriend’s lap. Felix lends a helping hand to adjust your skirt, smoothly guiding the denim down while playfully patting your ass, accompanied by a mischievous grin.

“Where are you going? It’s still so early!” Annabel shoots you a disapproving frown from across the table. “I really need to study for that test tomorrow,” you respond, the playful boos from others resonating as you playfully roll your eyes.

“Listen, I’ll buy the next round yeah?” Your offer is met with enthusiastic hoots as you chuckle. Rounds tend to be costly, especially with our group, but being part of a wealthy family, the expense doesn’t faze you.

Felix joins you in fetching the drinks before you wave at your group and make your exit. Outside, the cool night air embraces you as you walk down the stairs, and a twinge of regret sets in over your choice of attire.

Lost in thought, you accidentally collide with someone. Looking up, you find yourself face to face with Oliver, whose initial surprise transforms into recognition. “Oh, Oliver, hey,” you manage a smile, and he reciprocates it warmly.

“Hey. You headin’ back?” He gestures behind him with his thumb, and you nod, “Yeah, studying for that test we have tomorrow morning.” A chuckle escapes you as he nods, an awkward silence settling between the two of you.

“Is it, uh, busy in there?” Oliver speaks up. “Hm? Oh. Uhm, no, not really,” you shake your head. Another moment of silence follows. “Listen, Ollie, I should really get going,” you purse your lips as he moves aside. “Yeah, of course,” he offers you a warm smile, and you nod your head, walking away.

~

Over the course of the next couple days. Felix and Oliver had become very good friends. You would hear Felix’s recounts of his day when the two of you were entangled in each others arms and it always included Oliver.

The party rolled around and you found yourself dancing with Felix, your ass on his crotch as the two of you seamlessly moved to Sexyback.

With one hand cradling a red plastic cup filled with alcohol, and the other clasping a partially smoked cigarette, Felix guided your hips skillfully, his touch resting casually on your hipbone.

“You look so fuckin’ hot,” Felix exclaimed loudly over the music as you smirk to yourself, already abit tipsy. “Do you wanna go somewhere?” You reply back to him, turning around as he eagerly nods.

You giggle to yourself, knowing what the rest of the night would consist of. Fucking Felix. You stumbled as Felix pulled you along the house. “Fuck, these heels,” You moan in annoyance.

Eager to reach his dorm quicjly, Felix scooped you up in a bridal carry, one arm under your knees and the other supporting your back. A light squeal escaped you, drawing the attention of those around, their curious stares following the two of you.

The second he shut the door behind him, your clothes littered his room as he ravenously attacked your lips, his hands roaming around your body as you let out quiet moans, enjoying the way they groped every inch of your body.

Meanwhile, Oliver was roaming around the party, completely and utterly bored. He first wandered around looking for someone he knew, but that was only three people. You, Felix, and Michael. Michael wouldn’t even be there, so just you or Felix.

Acknowledging the fact that neither you or Felix were here, Oliver’s gaze fell on Farleigh at the other end of the room. With a joint in hand, reclining on the couch, Oliver decided to test his luck and headed in Farleigh’s direction.

“Do you know where Felix is?” Farleigh looks Oliver up and down before raising an eyebrow at him. “Why do you wanna know?” His tone was flat, bored from talking with Oliver already.

“Just wonderin’,” Oliver shrugged awkwardly. Farleigh, taking a long drag, nonchalantly answered, “He went back to his dorm, I think,” his tone uninterested as he flicked ash from his joint.

“Thanks,” Oliver nods his head before turning around. The walk to Felix’s dorm was all too familiar for him, often spending time there whenever he and Felix hung out.

He knocks on the door. No response. He knocked again. Still no response. Oliver then tried the door handle, twisting it only to find it unlocked. Opening the door with a loud creak as his eyes look around the dimly lit interior of Felix’s room.

“Felix-“ Oliver cuts himself off as he realises what he just walked in on. A feminine gasp reached his ears as he instinctively tried to avert his gaze. “For fuck’s sake, mate!” Felix’s irritated voice resonated, accompanied by the rustling of sheets in the room.

Felix quickly moves to cover the both of you as you screw your eyes shut. “Can’t you fuckin’ knock Ollie?” Felix exasperates as he slips on his boxers, his frame still covering you from Ollie’s eyes.

"Sorry, the door was unlocked, so I thought-" Oliver began, but Felix cut him off, "Yeah, well, you thought wrong," accompanied by an annoyed chuckle. You reached for Felix's shirt, slipping it on as you sat on the bed.

Oliver couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity at who Felix was fucking; there was no denying it. It couldn’t have been Annabel or India—two girls he's often heard talking about Felix as if they were together—both of them were at the party when he left. So who was it? “Seriously mate. If I don’t answer, I’m either not here or don’t want to answer,” Felix runs his hands through his hair.

He was very bothered that he was interrupted. Felix hated being interrupted in the middle of things. Especially sex with you. “Felix, it’s okay,” You rest your hand on his shoulder as he looks back at you.

Oliver's jaw hung open, frozen in a momentary state of shock, as your head playfully emerged beside Felix. His eyes widened as he tried to process the unexpected sight before him. A cascade of questions flooded his mind, evident in the incredulous expression on his face. "Hi, Ollie," you greeted with a light chuckle, amusement dancing in your eyes as you observed his stunned reaction.

The air seemed charged with a mixture of surprise and curiosity as Oliver stammered through his words, attempting to articulate the myriad of questions racing through his mind. "I- What- Are you two-" he fumbled, his sentences colliding in his attempt to understand the situation unfolding before him.

Felix, ever nonchalant, cut through the awkward tension with a matter-of-fact tone. "She's my girlfriend," he stated, his words hanging in the air. As if to emphasize the point, you casually moved to sit on Felix's lap.

A moment of stunned silence enveloped Oliver. Felix had a girlfriend, and it was you. The revelation hit him with unexpected force, leaving him momentarily breathless. Questions swirled in his mind, and he couldn't comprehend why no one had ever mentioned it before.

"Why do you look so shocked, Ollie?" Felix chuckled, a lighthearted tone in his voice, while you added to the teasing atmosphere with a playful giggle. You could practically sense Oliver's head spinning with the unasked questions, creating an intriguing air of mystery around the situation.

Oliver's eyebrows furrowed slightly, his expression a mix of confusion and surprise as he processed the unexpected pairing. He released a nonchalant shrug, attempting to mask the internal whirlwind of thoughts.

"No one’s ever said anything about it, I just assumed you both were single," he admitted, his eyes fixed on you and Felix. Oliver's head continued to shake in a subtle attempt to grasp the reality of you being in a relationship with Felix.

A faint smile played on your lips as you tilted your head at him, a touch of amusement in your gaze. "You never asked," you pointed out casually, your words hanging in the air. Oliver's lips formed a perfect 'O' as he absorbed the implication, silently nodding in acknowledgment.

The room was then engulfed in an awkward silence, the weight of unspoken words lingering in the atmosphere. Sensing the discomfort, Oliver took the initiative to break the tension. "Uhm, I should get going," he announced, his hand absently scratching the back of his head. Felix, understanding the unspoken cue, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, go ahead."

Oliver's lips pursed, his gaze flickering between you and Felix, caught in a moment of realization. With a slightly awkward smile, you innocently waved at him. "Bye, Ollie!" you chimed in a light-hearted manner, attempting to alleviate the awkwardness as he leaves the dorm.

Felix couldn't hide his amusement. "You really didn't tell him?" he asked, breaking the silence with a playful smile as he looked down at you. In response, you innocently shrugged. "I didn't think it was that necessary to bring it up, besides, he really never asked."

[moonstruckme]

could i request poly!marauders with reader who has trouble sleeping/insomnia pls? it’s so frustrating not being able to sleep and seeing everyone sleeping and then having a raging head and being exhausted throughout the days,,, just want someone to make the nights a little less stressful :((

Sorry for the long wait sweetness! Thanks for requesting

modern au

poly!marauderes x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You want desperately to know what time it is. With the blackout curtains covering the windows and the digital clock stowed away in the drawer of the nightstand, it’s impossible to guess whether the sun is rising outside or if it’s only an hour past when you went to bed. You honestly have no idea. It feels like you’ve been lying here for an eternity, willing yourself to relax, but in your experience it’s equally likely that ten minutes have gone by. 

It’s that much worse with your boyfriends snoozing all around you. You envy Sirius’ open-mouthed snore. You feel trapped. You want to be sleeping with them but you can’t, so you want them to be awake with you, but waking them would be cruel. When you’d first gone to bed James had held you up against him, but it hadn’t taken long after he’d fallen asleep for him to roll over, unconsciously abandoning you between his and Remus’ backsides. Remus is a light enough sleeper that you know he’ll wake if you try to get out of bed, so you’re stuck here, staring into the formless black of your room, not knowing how much longer you have to endure it. 

Eventually you sit up on your elbow, reaching over Remus to check the time on your phone. Your hand is arrested just above the nightstand. 

“What,” Remus’ voice is croaky. “What’re you doing?” 

You don’t answer, knowing an honest one will only earn you a scolding. Remus rolls over and takes you hand with him. You can just barely see the outline of his head in the darkness, but you can feel his warm breath fanning across your face. 

“You know it’s only going to make things worse,” he says quietly. 

“It's worse not knowing,” you whisper. 

Remus sighs, rubbing his thumb into the meat of your palm. Some of your apprehension eases just from having him awake with you. “I’m sorry, sweet girl.” His voice is barely a murmur, but you can feel James starting to stir at your back. “I still think we have to try what the doctor said for now, okay?” 

He pushes his warm palm flat against yours, coaxing a small “okay” out of you. 

“I can stay up with you.” 

“No,” you say, despite the selfish voice in your head going Yes!. Remus needs more sleep than the rest of you to begin with, and you’re more accustomed to going without it than he is. “That’s okay, you should sleep.” 

You’re bracing yourself for his denial when James rolls over behind you, one big arm wrapping around your front. 

“Hey,” he slurs, “where’d you go?” 

You smother a laugh and Remus makes a similarly amused sound, likely guessing what had really happened. He reaches the hand not holding yours over your head to pet James’ hair. 

“I didn’t go anywhere,” you say softly. 

“Stay put this time, hm?” James replies fondly, giving your middle a squeeze. “Y’supposed to be on cuddle duty.” 

This time you can’t suppress it, and a little giggle escapes you. “Sorry,” you say. 

Remus hums in gentled remonstrance, you’re not sure at whom. 

“You’re all being terribly loud,” Sirius groans, and then there’s a shape leering over James’ head, doubtlessly glowering down at the three of you. “Why are we awake?”

“Someone couldn’t sleep,” Remus murmurs. 

Sirius makes a whiny pitying sound, reaching over James to paw blindly at you. You inhale when his perpetually freezing fingers fumble at your collarbone. James saves you, clasping Sirius’ hand in his own. 

“What else is new,” you try to joke. It comes out sounding more glum than you’d like. “Sorry I woke you guys.” 

“No, don’t be, angel.” James’ hand finds its way underneath your sleep shirt, thumb stroking the skin just above your navel. “We’d rather be awake with you anyway.” 

Sirius makes a sound like he could disagree, but his slender fingers burrow into your hair, scratching lightly at your scalp the way he knows you like. You bear the cold for his sake. 

“There’s no point in us all being awake,” you say, though you’re nearly purring from all the loving. “S’not your problem.” 

Sirius tsks. “We’ve been over this, doll. Your problems are ours, too.” 

You hum like Yeah, I know. Sirius takes in a breath like he might say more, but Remus comes to your rescue. 

“Do you want one of us to rub your back, dove?” 

That sounds amazing, actually. But you’re not sure if it’ll help, and you don’t want to put your boyfriends to work if there’s no promise it’ll do anything. “That’s okay,” you say. 

“No, come on.” James is already turning you in his arms. He cozies up to your front, big palm splayed out over your back. “We’re supposed to get you relaxed, right?” 

You nod, and his chest feels warm against your cheek. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep, though.” 

“That’s okay,” he replies readily. “Let’s just give it a try, yeah?”

You hum, acquiescence inlaid with guilt. From behind James, you hear Sirius chide you quietly (“Stop that”) and you know he’s heard it. James likely does too, but he ignores it, big palm beginning to move in broad, slow circles on your back. You try to help as best you can, relaxing into his hold and shutting your eyes. Even so, you grow tenser with frustration the longer it doesn’t work. 

“Breathe, sweetheart,” Remus murmurs behind you. His words brush over your nape like a caress. “Relax. Listen to his heartbeat.” 

You nestle your face closer to James’ chest, and he increases the pressure on your back as if to keep you there. You can hear the steady bump-bump of his heart as well as feel it against your cheek, and something about it has a tranquilizing effect on your own. It creates a beat to match the rhythm of his hand gliding along your back, steady and unwavering. You can hear your own breathing matching up to his, Remus’ too. Distantly, you become aware that Sirius is snoring again, but the thought dissipates half-formed. Your limbs feel warm and soft as wax. 

You don’t notice James moving until his lips come down on the top of your head, his palm still wearing its same track into your back. “Love you,” he says. 

You think you echo the sentiment, but you’re too far gone to know for sure.

[luvjunie]

— headcanons. miles morales (earth42)

EARTH42!MILES who buys you whatever you want, whenever you want. you don’t even have to say anything, as soon as he notices your focus has gravitated towards a display in a mall’s window, he’s stopped in front of it and digging out his wallet.

“you want that?” “no, baby, it’s fine. it’s probably really expensive anyway.” “i don’t remember asking the price. do you want that, yes or no?”

EARTH42!MILES who shows up to your house to take you on you guys’ first date, two bouquets of roses cradled in the fold of his arm instead of one. he was raised by mama rio, after all, so he knows better than to show up to a girl’s house with only his words to impress her mother.

“wow, these are beautiful, miles… thank you. who’s the other one for?” “for your moms, to say thanks for letting me take you out.”

EARTH42!MILES who is so deeply regressed into the act of suppressing his love and affection for others, in fear that he’ll get too attached, only to lose you just like he did his dad. he doesn’t know if he can survive something like that happening again, so it takes a while for him to actually open himself up to you.

“i’m not going anywhere, miles. you can let me in, it’s okay.” “you promise?” “i promise, my love.”

EARTH42!MILES who gets so flustered when you kiss him or compliment him or hold his hand, though it doesn’t come off that way due to how good he is at hiding his true feelings. his stoic expression makes you think he just doesn’t like it, so you back off some. your fears are assuaged when you come over one day and skip your usual greeting of smothering him in kisses or confessions on how much you’ve missed him, and instead settle for giving him a brief, simple hug.

“¿qué pasa, mamí, what i do? ion get no love today?”

EARTH42!MILES who wasn’t the best at texting at first—often leaving you wondering where he was for most of the day or if he was even alive—but has since stepped his game up.

9:30 AM

[mi novio]: goodmorning mi vida, how you sleep?

11:30 am

[mi novio]: you eat anything yet?

2:34 PM

[mi novio]: i miss you

6:20 PM

[mi novio]: ima be busy at around 7, jus lyk so you don’t worry bout where i’m at. i’ll text you when i’m free, okay chiquita?

EARTH42!MILES who asks for a picture of you every time you get your hair done, because he’s too impatient to wait until the two of you hangout again.

[mi novio]: lemme see your hair and make sure your face in it too, i wanna see how pretty my baby look

[you]: attachment: 1 image [you]: you like it?

[mi novio]: lord have mercy it just keeps gettin’ better. [mi novio]: goddamn you look good [mi novio]: nah i gotta see this shit in person im omw

EARTH42!MILES who literally gets offended when he sees you wearing something he didn’t buy.

“where’d you get these from? i don’t remember buying them for you.” “yeah… i got them from the mall last week when i got paid.” “oh, what, so you sayin you don’t need me no more? it’s like that now, mamí?”

EARTH42!MILES who knows he can always run to you when things get rough; when it all becomes too much for him to handle on his own and he can feel his resolve withering. he knows that all he has to do is push open the window you leave cracked for him, climb through it and slip into bed next to you with his head nuzzled into your chest. you’re the only thing that helps him off the ledge nowadays.

“you wanna talk about it, papa?” “nah, not really. can- can you just hold me?” “i can do that.”

- please do not copy, plagiarize, or repost my works to other sites!

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗

[lovelybucky1]

Nice Guys Finish Last

Kinktober Day 9- Hair Pulling

warnings: hair pulling, oral sex (f!receiving), name calling, face riding, dom/sub dynamics, fwb(?), crime, tattooed and pierced anakin, 18+ minors DNI

main masterlist

kinktober masterlist

Picking up Anakin from the police station yet again is not what you thought you’d be doing with your night. Your he is always getting into some kind of trouble and it always somehow becomes your responsibility to save his sorry ass.

It’s the third time this month you’ve had to get him and to say you’re pissed is an understatement. You honestly couldn’t believe the officer when he told you Anakin was taken in for vandalism. He was caught tagging a building with some buddies. How fucking juvenile.

You signed the proper paperwork and Anakin was following you out of the station. Somehow, with his pretty boy charm, he always gets off with a warning. Some day he won’t be so lucky, and you may not feel bad for him when that day comes.

“I can’t fucking believe you, Anakin!” you yell once you’re in the car.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Anakin huffs.

“Don’t give me that. I’m the one bailing you out in the middle of the night for fucking around with a can of spray paint.”

Anakin glares at you from the passenger seat. “Thanks,” he mutters.

“Why am I always the one you call? You know I won’t let you rot at the station and all your other friends are getting arrested with you?” It’s a rhetorical question; you know that’s exactly why you’re his call.

“You’re my best friend. That’s why you’re the one I call,” he says. “Sorry if I’m such an inconvenience for you.”

“Do not guilt trip me, Anakin. You are so fucking irresponsible and yeah, you are inconveniencing me because it’s Saturday night and I had plans that I left to come save you.”

Anakin raises his eyebrows at the mention of plans. “What plans?”

“Is that fucking important right now?”

Anakin wiggles his snakebites with his tongue as he looks at you. “Was it a date?”

You sigh heavily. “Yes it was.”

“First date?”

“Third.”

Anakin makes a huh noise faintly and you want to press him about it, but figure it’s better just to get him home and out of your sight before you punch him.

You start the car and pull out of the police station parking lot. You drive in silence for a few minutes, not having put on the radio in your rage.

“You weren’t drunk, were you?” you ask.

“Jesus,” he says, offended. “No, I wasn’t drunk.”

“Don’t act like that’s not a valid question. Do you have any idea how much stupid shit you do when you’re drunk?”

Anakin kicks his foot up on the dashboard and you quickly slap his thigh so he doesn’t scuff up your car with his obnoxious boot.

Before long, you turn into the parking lot of Anakin’s apartment complex and park in your usual spot. He gets out of the car, then you follow.

“You’re coming in?”

“I missed dessert. It’s the least you could do.”

Anakin attempts to smile at you, but that venture is short lived when he sees your annoyed expression illuminated by the street lights.

The two of you walk into the building and up the two flights of stairs to get to his door. He lets you in and you immediately walk over to the freezer, searching for something sweet.

“Ben’s out tonight,” he says.

“So was I, but you didn’t ask Ben to pick you up,” you respond, head still in the freezer.

“Come on, are we really gonna do this all night? Ben and I aren’t close like we are.”

You pick up a pint of half-eaten ice cream and close the freezer before opening all of the drawers until you find the spoons. You take the lid off the container and lean against the counter, glaring at Anakin where he sits at the counter.

“How was your date,” he asks.

“It was good until you dragged me away from it.”

Anakin looks down at his hands and twiddles his thumbs. “Where’d he take you?”

You fill your mouth with a spoonful of ice-cream. “The restaurant on 15th,” you respond.

Anakin furrows his brows. “That place is a dump. Why would he take you there?”

“It’s not about the food, it’s about the company.”

Anakin scoffs. “It sounds like your company is a cheap asshole who doesn’t know how to treat you.”

You stare silently at Anakin while thoughts race through your mind. The first time you got Anakin from the police station was right after your first date, and you were late your second date because you had to drive Anakin home. In an instant, anger seethes inside of you. You drop the ice cream and spoon on the countertop and storm over to the back of Anakin’s chair.

He turns his head to track your movements. When you reach him, you twist your fingers in his dark hair and pull. His head snaps back and he whines in protest.

“You son of a bitch,” you hiss.

“What?” he asks.

“You’ve been purposely ruining my dates by getting arrested.” He whimpers at the painful tug on his roots. “You can’t tell me it’s a coincidence that I’ve had to get you when I was on dates.”

“Let me go and we can talk about this,” he tries to reason.

“No, Anakin. You’re perfectly capable of talking to me like this.”

Anakin sighs. “He’s not good enough for you.”

“You’ve never even met him,” you scoff.

“I don’t need to! I know he isn’t.”

Anakin tries to look at you upside down. He’s playing with his lip rings again, a nervous habit of his.

“And how the fuck would you know that?” you ask.

“Because he’s not me.”

You freeze, and for a moment your grip on his hair loosens. “What?”

Anakin fights against your hold and manages to break free. He stands up from the stool and faces you, the tension in his brows obvious.

“I don’t want you to date that guy. Fuck, I don’t want you to date any guy. Everyone you’ve ever dated has been an asshole and you don’t deserve that.”

“So, what, you’re not an asshole?”

“I am, but I would treat you right.”

“By getting arrested every night for stupid shit?”

Anakin groans. “Can we please stop talking about it?”

You narrow your eyes at him as realization dawns on you. “Were you trying to cockblock me?” Anakin doesn’t respond. All he does is look down at his yellow laced boots to hide the flush on his cheeks. “It was my third date tonight and you knew that. You didn’t want me to go home with him.”

“Christ, no, it’s not like that-”

“Then what is it, Anakin?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “I just don’t get what you see in him.”

“He’s nice.”

Anakin chuckles. “You don’t want nice.”

“You have no idea what I want.”

Anakin steps forward to crowd you against the counter. You’re not intimidated by him, despite the height difference. Anakin may be bigger and stronger in pretty much every physical way, but you know he wouldn’t hurt you. And you know his weak spot.

“Tell me, then. What do you want?”

“A nice guy with a good job, life goals, and no criminal record.”

Anakin places his hands on the counter on either side of your body. “But does nice make you cum?”

You gasp. “Anakin!”

“I’m serious. Does your nice, regular guy do it for you?” He looks intently at your face, searching for an answer. “Or is it only guys with tattoos and a criminal record that gets your blood pumping like this?”

“We’re friends, Anakin,” you say instead of answering his question.

“That doesn’t have to change.” You sigh and look over your shoulder to collect yourself for a moment, needing a break from Anakin’s piercing gaze. “You’re angry at me and I’m sure you’re pent up because you were planning on getting fucked tonight. Kill two birds with one stone and fuck me.”

“I can’t believe you,” you say, looking back at him.

He smirks, biting his lip. “It’ll be good, I promise. You can hit me, bite me, scratch me, whatever. Use me however you want and you’ll see why nice isn’t better.”

“Fine,” you bite.

“Where do you want me?” he asks.

You look around the open floor plan apartment. “The couch.”

“Not the bed?”

“Nice guys fuck on beds. I thought you were different.”

Anakin backs off of you and walks over to the couch, sitting lazily as we waits for you to come over. His arms are splayed over the back and his legs are spread obnoxiously. You sit on the couch next to him and look at him expectantly.

“You’re not gonna kiss me?” you ask.

Anakin shrugs. “I don’t kiss sluts.”

You raise your eyebrows at that. “I’m a slut?”

“Oh yeah,” he leans closer to you, grasping gently at your jaw. “That’s why we’re a good match. You’re a slut who needs to be fucked hard and dirty, and I’m a bad guy who loves sluts like you.”

Despite yourself, your heart rate picks up. You’re watching his lips, noticing how his tongue swipes across them. Anakin trails his hand up your thigh and inches it closer to your clothed pussy.

“I’m not gonna sit here and let you talk to me like that after the shit you pulled.”

Anakin backs off, his hands now kept to himself. “I’m all yours.”

You make a split second decision to crawl into his lap, and now that you’re seated on top of his thighs, you’re unsure what to do. His body is firm with muscle underneath you. You know he goes to the gym but you’ve never experienced his strength for yourself.

You push up the hem of his t-shirt and he takes the hint, raising his arms so you can pull it off. You’re met with the sight of his abs and chest covered with tattoos and the barbells that go through his nipples. You realize you’ve never seem him like this before and you curse yourself for not getting a glimpse sooner.

“You like what you see?” he asks cockily.

“Shut up, Anakin.”

You run your hands over his chest, dragging your nails down it to leave red marks on the pale skin. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of fucking you, but you are incredibly horny and need to get off.

“Lay down.”

He raises his eyebrows at you. “Talking to me like I’m a dog?”

“Yeah, I am. So be a good boy and lay down.”

You stand up from his lap and take off your bottoms while he changes positions. His legs are outstretched on the couch and his head is flat against the cushion.

You kneel on the couch, knees on either side of his head and you watch as he stares at your pussy.

“Like what you see?” you ask.

“Fuck yeah, I do. Been thinking ‘bout tasting this cunt since we met.”

Anakin reaches up to grab your hips and he pulls you down onto him. His nose hits your mound first, then you sit your pussy onto his mouth and chin.

He looks up at you from between your thighs as his tongue begins to explore between your folds. You wiggle your hips on top of him to get more friction, and to humiliate him a little by using him.

His nose bumps your clit as he licks thick stripes over your pussy. Anakin is attempting to taste every inch of you, and fuck, it feels good.

You reach down and grab his spiked hair with both hands like their reigns. You adjust yourself on his face so he’s hitting all the spots you want him to.

“Fuck, put your tongue inside me,” you order.

He does, and when you feel the hot muscle slide into you, you tug firmly on his hair. He groans into your pussy and fucks you with enthusiasm.

You pull on his hair again and his eyelids flutter. He clearly likes getting his hair pulled, and you enjoy causing him a little bit of pain.

“You got arrested all those times because you wanted me to sit on your fucking face? Why didn’t you just ask?”

You didn’t lift up so he could answer. It was a rhetorical question and if he stopped sucking on your clit, you would kill him.

“You were right, a nice guy wouldn’t let me drown him in my pussy.”

You grind down on his face and tug his head up to meet your body as you feel yourself getting closer.

“Don’t fucking stop, Anakin. I’m gonna cum,” you say.

His eyes are squeezed shut and his brows have a deep crease between them as he concentrates on pleasing you despite the ache that’s surely in his jaw.

“Fuck,” you gasp as you reach your peak.

Your thighs tighten around his head and he sucks firmly at your pussy to ride you through it. Your hips buck up, searching for more friction until your high passes.

You remain on him, but lean your hands back on his thighs to catch your breath. Your chest his heaving and your legs are shaking a bit.

Anakin pushes up on your thighs, signaling you to get off of him. You slide from his face down to his hips and straddle him there.

His hair is a mess, his face is wet, and his lips are swollen and red. “How was that?” he asks, voice rough.

“Nice,” you respond with a smirk.

Anakin glares at you. He sits up and grabs your hips tightly to hold you still as he grinds his hips on your ass. He spanks you with his right hand, making you gasp in surprise.

“I thought I got to do whatever I wanted?”

“You got your chance,” Anakin grumbles. “Now I’m not gonna be so nice.”

[h0nology]

Tell Me The Truth

Miles is keeping secrets and you’ve finally had enough

warnings: cussing, pinch of angst, slight jealousy, pet names

“who is that?” jeff and rio had asked you.

the sight in front of you made your stomach hurt for some reason, your boyfriend, sitting isolated with some random girl nobody has ever seen before. you were already irritated with him; he had left so quickly with little to no explanation when you arrived at the party.

“i-i don’t know…”

it seems like you didn’t know anything anymore.

“should–should we go up there?” rio questionably says, “no, look, she’s leaving.” you pointed.

miles’ head swung over towards the three of you, you all quickly trying to act like you weren’t watching him. nonchalantly, you all waited as he approached you. or so you guys thought he was coming to you, instead he was making his way towards the door.

“miles!” his parents called for him.

you took it upon yourself to follow after him, swinging the door open as he had just reached the last step.

“miles!”

his pace picked up as you had gotten closer to him, he reached his apartment door, trying to shut you out but you stuck your foot in between the door.

“babe! are you okay? why would you do that?!” miles panics.

“what is going on with you?!” you slightly yell, his face finally meeting yours, “what happened to your face?!”

he had a few bruises and some cuts here and there, and his hair looked a hot mess.

“nothing.” he mutters, walking into the apartment.

you follow behind him, shutting the door behind you before following him into the bathroom. he grabbed the first aid kit from underneath the sink, and you snatch it out his hand, urging for him to sit down. he jumped up on the counter and you stood in between his legs, beginning on his face.

“who was that girl?” you asked after a few moments of silence.

“never took you as the jealous type, baby.” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“who is she, miles?”

his smile fades and he drops his hands from your waist when he realized you weren’t amused.

“just somebody i used to know. i haven’t seen her in a minute, she was just dropping by.”

you let out a deep sigh, finishing up his face by applying ointment to it before putting everything in the first aid kit and placing it on the bathroom counter. you removed yourself from in between his legs and began to walk away.

“wait! where are you going? what's wrong?” he followed after you.

you turn around to face him, “i want you to stop lying to me.” you sighed, “once you're ready to tell me the truth, you know where to find me.”

you stood there for a moment. waiting there for him to say something, anything! but nothing. you shook your head, walking over towards the door.

“wait.” he says as soon as your hand is on the doorknob, “this is kinda hard to explain…”

you twist the knob and open the door.

“i’m spider-man!” he slightly yelled.

you shut the door back, hand still on the knob trying to process what he had just said.

“funny, miles.” you sarcastically say, turning to face him again, “you get your ass kicked and claim to be spider-man! it's okay t-"

“no! no, no, i’m not joking!” he says, unzipping his jacket to reveal the black suit that was beneath. very similar looking to the one you’d seen all over social media when people posted spider-man sightings.

“where’d you get that?”

“i made it.” he slightly smiled, “see, look.” he shoots webs, causing you to jump a little bit.

you stood there with your eyes shut for a second, just to make sure you weren’t dreaming. okay, your boyfriend is spider-man. your boyfriend is spider-man.

“wha-when? how? how long?” you approached him, placing your hand on the black suit.

“about a year now.”

“a year?!” you remove your hand, “why are you just now telling me?”

“i didn’t want you to look at me differently.” he shook his head, “i was afraid you wouldn’t love me the same.” his shoulders dropped.

“miles.” you let out a laugh of disbelief, “miles. babe, there’s nothing that could change the way i feel about you, i will always love you. spider-man or not.”

miles didn’t say anything, all he did was bring you into a big hug. you hugged him back, pulling him in as much as possible.

“now explain to me who this girl is once again.” you say into the hug.

miles laughs, pulling out of the hug, “her names gwen. uh, ghost-spider.”

“so she’s spider-woman? there’s multiple of you?”

“yeah, it’s kinda a long story.” he scratched the back of his neck, “any other questions?” he laughs.

“does this mean you’ll take me flying? or whatever it is that you do.”

[januaryembrs]

HOT UNDER THE HELMET | Poe Dameron x Mechanic!Reader

Request: Hi, would you mind writing for Poe Dameron where Poe accidentally injures the reader (whose a mechanic), which is how they meet for the first time. And would you mind using the dialogue prompt “Oh, oh my god! It was an accident! I’m so sorry!”? 

Description: Poe finds out the hard way the best mechanic in the resistance is also most beautiful woman he’s ever seen; too bad you’re so hot headed. 

word count: 1.5k

trigger warnings: sexism, fire, women in stem facing problems even in space (because ofcourse they do).

main masterlist

As much as you would love to admit times of war made people more benevolent towards each other, you’d be dead wrong. Not only had you been one of the only females in the resistance who knew her way around a wrench, but as it also turned out, not even the risk of dying could pull a males head out of his arse. 

You heard snickering before you saw them. The other three mechanics in your squadron crowded around a starfighter, laughing to themselves as they watched you tinker with a leaky engine, your body strewn across a lying board as you worked above yourself, your tools against your foot. 

Rolling out from underneath the ship, you paid them no mind as you searched for a screwdriver small enough to fit the flathead you needed removing. Scanning your work area, that you were proud to say you kept much neater than the blaster brained males you shared a space with, your brow furrowed when you saw your equipment nowhere to be seen. 

“Looking for something?” You heard Zagg, one of the males, say, and you felt a rage boil up inside you at the smug look on their faces as you regarded them with a sweaty, pissed off expression. 

“Where’d you boneheads put it?” You snapped, hauling yourself to your feet as you approached them hotly, your scowl only growing as they burst out laughing, “Real mature. The galaxy is going to bantha fodder, and you guys are hiding my tools,”

“You know, if you need help from someone who knows what they’re doing, you could just ask,” The tallest of the trio, Bran, goaded you, a smarmy smile on his face as he watched your cheeks puff with exhaustion, whirling around to charge up to him, no matter if you did have to turn your neck upwards to confront the pig of a male. 

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size, instead of going after little girls who make you look like rookies,” You hissed, eying up the other two who seemed to exchange a sneer, “Leia chose me herself, handpicked me from the academy. You three nerf herders got through on sheer size alone, and it’s obvious you feel the need to compensate everywhere else possible,” 

You sauntered away, back towards the rear of the workshop where spare apparatus was kept, banging around the drawers with a foul mood, muttering about how useless the opposite sex was in times of crisis. 

As if he had heard the call of a siren, Poe strolled into the hangar, fully suited with his helmet under his arm, an all too cheery smile on his face for the belly of the beast he was unknowingly heading straight for. 

Catching the eye of one of the mechanics, a freakishly tall man that seemed to be chatting to the other two as they stood around an X-wing with a huge hole ripped into the body of it, he watched the worker drop his bitter face and regard him with raised eyebrows when he saw the chirpy pilot approach.

“General,” He nodded respectfully, though there was not a single trace of regard on his face. “You’ve come for your ship?”

“Leia said you had your best guy on it?” He said, almost missing the way the three of them nodded hesitantly, “She said it should be ready today,”

“Right this way, General Dameron,” The shorter, beefy one said, leading him away to a pristine looking starfighter, by far in the best shape he could see it being without it being brand new. He thought he caught a snigger behind him as the mechanic, whose oiled badge read as Kripply, took him over to the ship, “Why don’t you give her a whirl? As you said, we had our very best on the case,” 

Poe looked at him with an odd mix of a smile and wariness as he couldn’t miss the devilish excitement the man looked at him with. Had he sat in paint again, he wondered. Finn had had a field day walking him around the entire compound with two white ass cheek marks on his suit, he wouldn’t put it past his co-pilot to try his luck again seeing as Poe had been the one to win at cards last night and had not so graciously rubbed his credits in the man’s face. 

“Sure, let’s give this baby a whirl,” He said after a moment, his hair falling all over the place as he shoved his helmet over his thick, sable locks. 

Maybe he had a case of bedhead, he wondered. Afterall, he’d not exactly been sober as he’d stumbled back to his room last night, his winnings buying him round after round of smuggled Corellian Whiskey. 

He hopped up onto the wing, yanking himself into the cockpit that had been cleaned thoroughly, and he didn’t know why he ever doubted his repair team if this was the condition they left their vehicles in. The engine hummed to life as he flicked the tiny lever, and he couldn’t help but appreciate the oddly floral smell inside the small flight deck, and he wondered if they had gone so far as to spray freshener in there. 

You had found a spare tightener that would fit the screw, the last thing that needed fastening up before the engine should be good to run, Leia’s general would be by any second now. 

Rolling back under the vehicle, you tuned out the way Zagg cackled over the sound of an engine springing to life, you assumed their own, focusing on the tiny panel you had yet to cover the machinery with to protect the pilot from any stray blaster fire cutting the engine. 

But no sooner had you settled on your back beneath the jet, your hand reaching up for the metal sheet, you heard the familiar rumble of oil being fired through the motor, the drums whirling as the ignition started and a short blast of heat hit you in the face. 

You blanched as you knew that meant, knew what would come shooting out any second now. Heat always got kicked out of the engine first, the left over energy dishcharged out of the bottom grate. Because then came the fire as it sprung to life.

Your hand came up before you could think through what you were doing, the hard work you were unravelling in the interest of keeping your face intact, your brain from turning to crispy mush, as you yanked the oil pipe from where you’d connected it to the drum, the thick black liquid pouring over your entire body as you stumbled from out beneath the plane, just incase your plan hadn’t worked. 

You heard the engine cut, the sound of the cockpit sliding open as someone cursed from above, and you were filled with a new wave of rage as two feet jumped from the wing above you, turning to the three men who watched with entertained chuckles. 

“What happened, I thought you said-” Poe had started chewing out the males who didn’t seem to care all too much about the fact the jet had broken down, when he felt two hands shove him from behind, and he spun on his heel with annoyance. 

His face dropped entirely when he saw you, covered head to toe in a thick, gunky oil, your nostrils flaring as you glared at him with a heat he had yet to see from a woman before.

Usually women were so receptive to his charming good looks. Not this one it seemed. 

“What the kriff was that, man,”  You yelled, shoving his chest again with your slimy hands, and he quickly put it together what had been the problem. 

“What that me?” His brows flew into his hair line as you looked at him like he’d just learned there were stars in the sky, “Oh, maker! It was an accident! I’m so sorry!”  

“Oh he’s sorry. Thank goodness he’s sorry,” You threw your arms up, wiping the oil away from your eyes with slippy hands, and Poe had no idea what to say for the best. 

Though, he supposed telling you you were by far the prettiest woman he’d seen in moons was not the correct thing to go for, despite the fact it was the first thing he’d thought. 

“I’m a decorated pilot, I would never intentionally-” He spluttered, but you had already turned away, heading towards a small work bench where a bunch of old, dirty rags lay, supposedly for hands only. 

“You can decorate my ass, general. You’re waiting another week for that plane,” You seethed, barely regarding him over your shoulder. 

And he stood there, speechless, because what was he supposed to say. No one had ever spoken down to him like that, not since he’d grown into his good looks and had women falling at his feet to be near him. Certainly not since he’d become leader. 

You huffed past him, as he was rooted to the spot, jaw hung slack as you left the workshop, cursing him out clearly to yourself, and it was only then that he turned to the other three males who had watched him get his ass served to him with another round of sniggers. “Who in the maker was she?”

[literaila]

Please give us another day in the life of reader and gojo I love them too much 🙏😔

“gojo satoru.”

satoru hangs his head over the couch armrest, a brilliant smile lighting up his face. “hello, wifey.”

he makes grabby hands at you, but you push him away, frown strong enough to burn down buildings. you’ve lived with megumi for nine years—you’ve learned well.

“why am i getting texts from yaga, shoko, and nanami about you?”

“planning my birthday party?”

“it’s august.”

“must be a big party. now c’mere, i haven’t seen you all day.”

you realize, then, that you’re standing far too close to him. satoru’s arms are egregiously long, and built only to annoy you. he tugs at your pants, entirely too strong.

“stop,” you shake your head at him, slapping his hands away. “not until you tell me what you did.”

satoru huffs, falling limp. “why did i have to do something?”

“are you kidding?”

“shouldn’t you be on my side?” he pouts, sitting up so he can plead at you. “isn’t that in the marriage vows?”

“it’s sickness and health, not stupidity and recklessness.”

“that’s just mean.”

you poke his forehead and he falls backward—very dramatically, just so we’re clear. “tell me what you did, gojo.”

satoru flips around, looking dejected. and maybe it’s a bit cruel to ruin his happy, clingy mood. but you know what else can ruin your mood? getting texted by your coworkers the entire day about your idiotic husband.

“if they’re texting you then you already know,” he mumbles, into the side of the couch, like a child.

you just stare at him, deadpan expression on your face, tapping your foot incessantly.

(it’s the same look you give megumi and tsumiki when they’re fighting over something inconsequential).

“oh, put that away,” satoru complains, waving his hands at you. “that’s only for the kids.”

“when you start acting like an adult, maybe i’ll start treating you like one.”

satoru scoffs. “all of you guys are just lame. you’ve never experienced any joy. don’t you want the children to be happy? can’t you allow them some—“

“i feel joy every time i get to pull your hair,” you tell him, leaning over the couch so that you can do it. “now fess up.”

you’re perched over him, knees on either side of his body, almost sitting on his back. and you can’t get a complete view of his face from here, but you know enough—have had enough satoru—to guess every expression.

he frowns, waiting for something to come same him—like an excuse, or a saving grace—and when it doesn’t, he says: “i don’t see what’s so wrong with taking the first years out for dinner.”

you lean back on the armrest, staring at him. “where’d you take them?”

“twenty-four hour ramen shop.”

you pause, inspecting the side of his face. “when did you take them, satoru?”

“…the night you were gone last week.”

“what time?”

“well, time is relative, so—“ satoru gives you a little, completely guilty, grin. he’s turned around to try and ease the blame with his face.

“what time?” you repeat.

“just like… three-thirty in the morning.”

you slap your forehead and groan automatically. no, really. your body has an instinctual reaction to all things satoru.

“they were hungry!” he protests. “and i missed you. you know how quiet it gets around here. do you just expect me to lay around all by myself?”

“taking the first years to dinner is fine,” you tell him, leaning over to him, hands in his hair, so you’re face to face, making direct eye contact. “nice, even. but they have a curfew, satoru.”

“well, what’s up with that? it’s pointless. we didn’t have a curfew.”

you blink at him. “…yes we did?”

“no, we didn’t,” satoru gives you a condescending look, “we used to leave all of the time.”

“yeah, without yaga’s knowledge. you used to force me to break the rules.”

“no, i didn’t.”

“satoru,” you say, shaking your head. “are you being serious about this? because i can’t tell.”

he pouts. “didn’t you like going out with me?”

you laugh, moving off of him so you can actually sit on the couch. your feet ache after a long day at work, and you really would like to cuddle—after an appropriate amount of scolding, of course.

you don’t say anything and satoru sits up, putting his head on your shoulder in a ridiculous attempt to get you to look at him. “didn’t you?”

“no.”

“then why did we do it at least once a week?”

“because you never take no for an answer,” you tell him, as you try to push his head away. but he does budge, choosing to, instead, dig his nose into your neck.

“c’mon,” his voice is muffled. “you liked it.”

you give up—or give in—and string your hands through his hair, trying not to squirm at the ticklish feeling of his breath. “well, i liked that you were too scared to kiss me.”

satoru snaps back, frowning. “i was not scared!”

“then why did it take you nine years to finally do it?”

he crosses his arms, staring down at you, very unimpressively. “six,” he corrects, basically huffing.

“okay, satoru. six. why did it take you six years to finally kiss me?”

he looks away from you, pouting again.

and you laugh, finally, prying his arms from their position so you can lay on him. satoru goes down easily, his hands finding their place around your shoulders, his legs colliding with yours, connecting like a puzzle.

you kiss just under his jaw, your only version of an i missed you.

really, it’s not like you can tell the man without him imploding from the very idea.

“i wanted to make it count,” he whispers to you, “kissing you.”

“that might be the only thing you’ve done right in our entire relationship.”

he pinches your side, but does nothing more, not bothering to argue again. the kids won’t be home for another two days, so it’s just you.

just the two of you, laying there.

still, you’ve grown used to satoru’s methods of distraction—his sweetness, his ability to talk forever.

“if you ever take the kids somewhere after dark again,” you whisper to him, sweetly, “i’m cutting your hair in your sleep.”

“you like my hair too much,” satoru argues.

“it’ll be a punishment for both of us. i can’t let you be unattended for too long.”

“yeah,” satoru nods his head aggressively. “i guess you cant leave me alone ever again. guess you’ll have to stay here forever.”

you snort into his neck and he keeps you there, smushed against him, not caring if you can breathe or not.

still, you can both clearly hear the “guess so,” you murmur into him.

[mistiell]

Let me Wrap my Teeth Around the World

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary: Saturday finally rolls around and Spencer takes you out to dinner. When he drops your off at your apartment, you ask him to stay

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Fluff, spencer being love drunk and adorable af, protected piv (18+)

A/N: PART 3!!! This is the last part for this mini series. Fair warning, this has not been proofread so I’ll probably come back to correct some things. Hope you guys like it!

Part 2

After four whole days, Saturday finally rolls around, and to say Spencer is nervous would be an understatement. He spent approximately sixty-seven hours, forty-two minutes, and twenty seconds attempting to come up with somewhere to take you, and he thinks he finally has a rather sound proof plan.

As he stands outside of your apartment, he goes over his plan once more in his head just as you open the door.

“Spence! Hey!” You greet him with a contagious smile before taking his hand to lead him inside. You look him up and down once before grinning puckishly at him, “Someone looks handsome.”

His face flushes red as he stutters out, “Th-Thanks.”

“I just have to grab my purse.” You smile kindly before skipping off towards your bedroom.

“Okay.” He nods, taking a moment to admire your decor. The first thing he notices is the scent of pumpkin spice hanging in the air, presumably from the recently extinguished candle sitting on your coffee table. The space is cluttered in a cosy, lived-in sort of way, with a fair amount of pillows settled on the couch and at least three different throw blankets stacked hanging over the back of an armchair. It’s very you, he thinks.

“Sorry for taking so long. Took me a second to find it.” You titter, and it’s now that he notices your outfit. You’re wearing a little black dress – something between formal and casual – that hugs your waist before tapering out at your hips to flow and fall to mid thigh. The sleeves are long and flowy, and the neckline shows off a fair bit of your chest — a detail he lingers on a little too long before hastily forcing his attention elsewhere.

When you look down at the ground and start fidgeting, he realises he hasn’t said anything, “You– you look gorgeous.” 

“Thank you.” You smile shyly before taking his hand and tugging him out the door, “Now, c’mon! I want to know what you’ve got planned for us this evening.”

He follows you into the elevator down to the underground before taking the lead, opening the passenger side door to his car for you before climbing in on the other side.

“So,” You start as he shifts the car into gear and pulls out of his parking spot, “Where are we headed?”

“I thought we could go to that Italian place you liked the last time we went out with the team?” He suggests as he pulls out onto the street. 

“Sounds good to me.” You reply, pulling at your dress as it rides up a little too high for your liking.

Spencer certainly isn’t complaining though. He’s got a great view of your thighs from here. When he dares to take his eyes off the road to glance at you out of the corner of his eye, of course.

The drive to the restaurant isn’t a long one and there’s an easy flow of idle chatter as he finds a parking spot before leading you inside.

The place is on the smaller side, a family owned business that’s been there since before either of you were born. The owner recognizes the two of you and smiles kindly as she shows you to a table.

As you skim the menu, you’re rambling about a TV show you’re currently obsessing over but, as hard as he tries, only half of him is listening. The other half is fantasising about ripping that dress off your body and ravishing you the way you deserve. 

He shakes his head. Jesus, where’d that come from? He’s got to get a hold of himself.

“I don’t know if you’d really be interested in it, but maybe—,” You stop talking and when he realises he’s been staring at your chest, he knows he’s been caught. He goes bright red when you smirk, “See something you like, pretty boy?”

Fucking hell, you’re going to be the death of him. He swallows hard and smiles nervously, “Yeah, I do.”

Your gaze slides down his neck and seems to land on the sliver of his collar bone that’s visible beneath the sweater vest he’s wearing, and you look like you’re just about ready to pounce on him. Under the table, you use your foot to nudge at his ankle before reaching for his hand and raising it to kiss his knuckles, maintaining eye contact as you do. For such a sweet gesture, it feels intimate with the way you’re gazing at him through your lashes, your lips warm against his skin in a way that makes him shift a little in his seat. When you pull away, you don’t let go of his hand, instead letting them settle between you as you scrunch your nose playfully and stage whisper, “Me too.”

He fucking giggles.

It’s that flustered, I-cannot-believe-this-person-thinks-I’m-attractive kind of giggle. When someone’s just hit on you and you just can’t help but laugh a little to calm your racing heart.

You grin at the sound and he clears his throat, cheeks a bright crimson, “Th–Thanks y– Thank you.”

He sighs with a simper, a little more than embarrassed as he hides his face in his free hand. You laugh and gently take his wrist to pull his hand away. When he dares to look back up at you, your eyes are filled with such fondness that it makes him want to scream.

“Don’t hide from me.” You coo, brushing your thumb over his wrist, “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

He doesn’t know what to say, so he thanks you again.

“‘Course.” You smile just as the waiter returns with your drinks.

You both order and chat while you wait. He starts rambling on about a classic film he went to see once, one that was in russian and was nearly four hours long. He gets halfway through explaining the plot when he realises this is usually where someone else would cut him off, so instead, he does it himself. You notice the abrupt silence and swallow a bite of your food before cocking your head to the side, “Why’d you stop?”

“Oh, well,” No one’s ever asked him that before. They normally ask him to stop. Not why he stopped, “I didn’t want to bore you.”

“You weren’t. I enjoy listening to you.” You say casually, waiting for him to continue.

It takes him a moment to register that you’re being genuine, but once he does, he beams as he continues his explanation. You listen with rapt attention. You even ask him questions! He finds himself smiling so much his cheeks start to hurt.

When he’s finished, he asks you about the show you’d been talking about earlier and you grin, speaking excitedly and animatedly about the plot and characters. You’re careful not to spoil anything, just in case he decides to watch it — which he decided he would the moment he saw how you lit up when he mentioned it.

By the time the two of you are finished with dinner, the sun has set and the time is nearing seven thirty. Nearly an hour and a half has passed and he hadn’t even noticed. He’s quick to offer to pay the bill when it comes, which starts a very small back and forth between the two of you when you also insist on paying. Eventually, you compromise and decide to split it.

He opens the door for you before walking out behind you. The air has chilled, and when a breeze blows by, you shiver. 

He quickly shrugs off his coat and holds it out to you, “Here.”

“Oh, you don’t have to.” He shakes his head and smiles kindly at you.

“I want to.”

You smile back and utter a soft, “Thank you.

He holds it open and lets you slip your arms into it, watching the way you wrap it securely around yourself and practically burrow into it fondly. Before you start walking, he offers his arm to you, “Shall we?”

Giggling, you slip your arm through his, “We shall.”

You squeeze at his bicep affectionately as you walk and he places his free hand on the back of yours. 

When you get to his car, he opens the door for you again before climbing in himself. On the drive to your apartment, he can’t help but glance at you out of the corner of his eye again. 

“Just can’t stop staring, huh?” You smirk and he immediately brings his eyes back to the road.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He smiles and you laugh.

“Uh-huh. Sure you don’t.” Carefully, you take one of his hands off the wheel and hold it in your lap, playing with his fingers. He knows the distraction is dangerous, but he really doesn’t care at this point. You’ve got his hand in your lap, so close to your thighs that he can feel the heat radiating off of your skin, “I like when you stare, you know.” “Yeah?” Is all he can manage in response as you spread his fingers and place his open palm over your inner thigh.

“Yeah.” You whisper, and when he glances at you again, you’ve got a hunger in your eyes that makes him let out a shaky breath. He takes a chance, sliding his hand up the bottom of your dress to squeeze at the soft flesh that resides further up your thigh. You sigh, leaning your head back against the headrest as you idly drag your fingertips up and down the length of his forearm. He thinks he might pass out.

As he reaches your apartment building, he squeezes you before placing his hand back on the wheel to turn into the underground. He finds your visitor spot and parks the car, getting out to open the door for you. When you get to the elevator and finally reach the door to your apartment, you turn and tentatively take his hand.

“Would you, um,” You glance down at your shoes shyly, “Would you like to,” His heart races when you look up at him through your lashes, “come inside?”

His breath stutters in his chest and it takes him a moment to come back down to earth. Unfortunately, you take this as a rejection, pulling your hand away and smiling at him apologetically, “Sorry, you don’t have to, obviously. I just thought…Well, it doesn’t matter what I thought. I’ll–.”

He doesn’t let you go any further, stepping into your space and pressing his lips to yours. He’s not about to let another misunderstanding pull you away from him. When he pulls back, he cups your cheek and strokes a line with his thumb from the corner of your eye, to your temple, and back, “I’d love to.”

You smile, quickly opening the door to your apartment and pulling him through. Shrugging off his jacket, you hang it up on your coat rack as he slips off his shoes. You struggle to get your heels off, so he kneels to undo to clasp and slip them off for you.

“Such a gentleman.” You hum as he stands back up after placing your shoes under your coats, threading your fingers in the hairs closest to his ears. His hands gravitate to your waist as you press yourself against him, leaning up to peck his lips, his jaw, before opening your mouth to roll your tongue against the sensitive skin of his pulse point, drawing a deep, shuddering sigh from his lungs. Your teeth scrape against his jaw and he can hear your breath fanning hot against his neck. He swears under his breath and you chuckle, pulling away only to take his wrists and guide him down the hall towards your bedroom.

Before you have a chance to sit, he hooks his arm around you and pulls you back to him. He captures your lips again and slides his hand up your thighs and your dress to grasp at your waist, relishing in the way your skin feels under his hands. He only breaks the kiss to ask, “Can I take this off?”

“You can take off as much as you want, handsome.” You pant and he grins, slipping your dress off before taking a moment to unabashedly ogle you.

“You are…” There are so many things he could say. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Ethereal. None of them would do you justice, “Wow.”

You giggle, and he finds himself mesmerised by the way your shoulders shake and your stomach contracts with the motion, “I’ve never known you as a man of few words, Doctor Reid.”

“I guess you just have that effect on me.” He smiles as you move to fiddle with his belt, swiftly pulling his pants down his legs and letting him lean on you a little as he steps out of them. You make quick work of his sweater vest and button down after that, leaving him standing there in his boxers, nearly bare to you. He gets a little anxious when you don’t say anything at first, but when he takes the time to actually look at the way you’re staring at him, he realises you’re just as in awe of him as he is of you.

Taking you in his arms again, he walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed, letting you shimmy up the mattress until your head rests comfortably on your pillows. You open your arms to him, parting your thighs to let him slot himself snuggly in between. Gripping your hips, he spreads his knees and — with a strength that surprises both of you — tugs you towards him so that your heat is flush with his bulge. You gasp at the sudden manhandling, but don’t seem upset. In fact, if he had to describe it, you look like you want to eat him.

He bends at the waist, sliding his hands down the backs of your thighs and holding them against his sides as he leans down to kiss you again. One hand finds his back while the other finds his hair, tugging and earning a groan in response. He’d be content to sit there and kiss you for hours, but as you grind against him, sighing into his mouth, it’s clear you’re eager to have more of him.

Letting go of your thighs, he carefully wedges his fingers between you and the mattress to guide your back into a high enough arch that he can unclasp your bra. It takes him a couple tries, throughout which you kiss at his jaw in a lovely — but also rather unhelpful — way, but he gets it and slips it off, tossing it off to some unknown corner of the room. His hands stay safely on your sides for a moment as he glances up at you, waiting until you nod before he palms at your breast, leaning down to suck a few hickeys into the skin of your neck as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. You half sigh, half moan next to his ear and he rolls his hips into yours involuntarily, making you wrap your legs around his lower back to keep him where he is.

“‘M not goin’ anywhere, lovely.” He mumbles against your skin, rolling his hips again as you grind down to meet him.

He shifts his attention lower for a moment, marking up your chest a little before pulling away, sitting back on his heels to admire his work. Dragging his fingertips over the freshly made hickeys and down the valley of your breasts, he can feel your heart beating hard and fast against your ribs. A little lower and he splays his palm over the soft flesh of your stomach. He can feel your heart there, too. He lowers his head to mouth at your sternum, and the vibrations reverberate against his lips and tongue in a steady lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub. 

He kisses and sucks a trail down your stomach, stopping a moment to nip at the swell of your abdomen before kissing at your skin apologetically when you gasp and tug on his hair. Hooking his fingers under your panties, he slips them off before biting at the meat of your inner thighs, soothing the area with his tongue before repeating the process a little further up.

“Spence,” You pant, and he hums, looking up at you from his place between your thighs, “Please.”

“Please what?” He asks cheekily, chuckling when you huff at him in frustration.

“Touch me.” You sigh, and he feels a little lightheaded, “Please.”

He dips his tongue into the well of slick at your entrance before dragging his tongue up to swirl around your clit. You choke on his name, arching your back and tugging on his hair. He lays there, eating at you like a man starved, sucking and rolling his tongue against you in a way that has you bucking your hips so much that he has to hook an arm around your thighs to hold them down. Slowly, he slips two fingers into you, earning a hissed, “Fuck” that has him rutting into the mattress. He curls his fingers and you use his hair as leverage to pull him closer.

His name sounds like music on your lips, lyrics strung together by breathy swears and blending into a chorus of moans. He finds when he flicks his tongue and curls his fingers a certain way, he can get you to whine all breathy and high pitched. He finds your body is his instrument. Your voice, his muse. 

He feels you clench around his fingers, thighs trembling and breath speeding up as you get closer, and closer, before tipping over the edge with a loud, “Oh, shit!”

He lets go of your hips and slows his pace a little to let you use him to ride out your high, only stopping when you go lax beneath him and tug him away by his hair. He takes a moment to wipe his lips with the back of his hand before you pull him up your body to kiss him slow and sweet. Your hand travels to fiddle with the hem of his boxers, and he takes your wrist, looking at you rather seriously.

“Are you sure?” He asks, searching your eyes for any sort of hesitation and finding none.

You nod and peck his lips once before locking eyes with him, “Positive.”

“Okay.” He kisses you once more before sliding his boxers down his legs. As he gets them off his ankles and makes it back onto his knees, you lean over to your side table and quickly pull out a condom, opening it and passing it to him. He’s quick to roll it on before diving back into you, guiding you to lay back against your pillows. He kisses you once, twice, before dropping his forehead to your shoulder as he aligns himself with you. He pushes in slowly, bracing himself on his elbow and he lets out a wrecked moan next to your ear. When he bottoms out, he gives you a moment to adjust, waiting until you’re ready.

You roll your hips with a whiny little, “Spence.” and he sees stars. He goes slow, tries to be gentle, grinding his hips into yours and splitting you open slowly. His head is filled with the scent of you, the sound of you, the feel of you. When he said he wanted to drown in you, he meant it. He isn’t a religious man by any means, but if it meant worshipping at your feet and allowing him the privilege of being yours, he’d abandon his principles and repent in an instant.

“Harder.” You beg, and he bends to your will, setting a near back breaking pace. 

He keeps the grinding motion, but the force at which his hips hit yours have you digging your nails into his back and throwing your head back. His mouth finds the side of your larynx, tongue laving over the area before he latches his lips to your skin and sucks another bruise into it.

The room is filled with your sinful noises, moans and the sound of skin on skin as his hips snap against yours so hard that he worries for a moment that you might bruise. 

That thought is gone as quick as it comes when you moan out, “Fuck, just like that.”

That familiar coil winds up in his abdomen and warmth spreads from his thighs to his toes. You flutter around him, and he knows that you’re getting close too. His fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles over the little bundle of nerves until your legs tremble and his name falls from your lips like a prayer, cunt spasming around him until he’s reaching his high too. He whimpers as he spills into the condom, body going rigid before he lets his upper body rest fully on you.

There’s a moment where he just sits there, sweaty torso flush with yours as he presses his ear against your chest to listen to your heart slow. You run your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp as you let him place a few sweet kisses to the curve of your breast.

“You wanna stay the night?” You ask softly and he nods. 

He sits up to pull the condom off, tying it up and tossing it into the bin beside your bed before noticing the blissed out haze you’re in, “You want to have a shower?” 

“Mm-mm.” You hum, holding your arms out to him.

“Okay.” He whispers as he flops onto the mattress beside you, pulling you into his chest and pressing his lips to your hairline. You sigh, nuzzling your nose against the divot where his collar bones meet. It isn’t long before your breaths even out and he isn’t far behind, the sound of your breathing coaxing him into a haze. The last thing he thinks about before he falls asleep is where he’s taking you on your next few dates.

———————————————————————

Taglist:

@fandomscombine @ivyflowers13 @nataratacat

[sturniolos-blog]

omg hi , I have a request for you . I was just thinking this , I dont know if you want to do it but I was thinking maybe the reader is a guess in one of they podcast and they daughter comes in the room and interrupt them or maybe they son comes up and its worried about his sister cause she is sad or upset or did something bad. Or maybe they doing a podcast and they hear a loud bang and it was they kids . They kids are around like maybe 6 or 8 years old. I dont know I just thought of that and that hey maybe you would love it . also love your writing so much .

Podcast with a twist - Matt Sturniolo x Y/n oneshot

warnings - throw up, fluff, sickness

disclaimer: i just made up a podcast topic this isn’t actually a topic

i also know they ending the podcast but like ntm on it. 3rd person pov

—————————

6:05pm

“Alright, good evening campers. Today we have a special but not new guest on today’s podcast, Y/n Sturniolo!” Nick introduces.

Y/n let’s out a laugh, playing with her fingers. “Hello, guys. Happy to be here.” She says shyly, Matt looking at her in adoration.

Everyone let’s out a small chuckle.

“So on our instagram story we asked you guys what questions you have for Y/n. So, Chris will start.” Matt said, giving Y/n a small smile as Chris began to read.

Chris looks off his phone, “Y/n, are you a stay at home mom? and if you aren’t what do you do for work?” Chris read.

Y/n took in a breath, “Well, i actually work from home but i am a journalist. I have lots of articles published that you can read on losangelesnews.com. I also do have an office but i prefer to work at home.” She smiles.

Matt gives her a small wink which wouldn’t go unnoticed by viewers but he didn’t mind.

“Alright, next question. This is kind of for Matt and Y/n. What made you pick Estrella and Mailo for names?” Nick asked.

Y/n looked at Matt, expecting him to answer first.

Matt gives Y/n a nod to start first though.

“Uh- so yo hablo español y estoy hispanic, soy de Puerto Rico. Anyway, quise to do something with a star. Therefore Estrella means star in spanish, porque Ella es mi star and will always be.” Y/n answers, smiling.

yo hablo español y estoy hispanic, soy de puerto rico: i speak spanish and im hispanic, im from puerto rico.

quise: I wanted

porque ella es mi: because she is my

(i’m saying puerto rico because i’m puerto rican but if you are hispanic or latina you can fill in for wherever you are from.)

Matt smiles and nods, “I agree. She’s both our stars.”

Chris and Nick share a look before Chris speaks up, “I only understood maybe half of what you said but that’s sweet.”

Y/n laughs, “It’s okay, Chris.” She says, running a hand through her hair.

“What about Mailo? Where’d you guys come up with that?” Nick asked, looking between Y/n and Matt.

“I wanted something simple but different, so Mailo is a simple name just spelled differently.” Matt shrugged, making Chris and Nick nod.

Chris then went to ask another question, “So, Y/n when-”

“Mommy!” Mailo calls out, running in the podcast room and around the table to where Y/n was sitting.

Y/n scrunched her eyebrows, “Que pasa, hijo?” She asked, brushing some hair out of his face.

que pasa, hijo: what’s wrong, son?

“I think Estrella is upset, she’s not talking to me.” Mailo said, hugging Y/n’s knee.

Y/n sighed, “Okay, I can go check on her after, sweetheart, me and daddy are busy, baby-”

“No! Now! Mommy!” Mailo started to stomp, shaking Y/n’s knee.

“Mailo, buddy, relax.” Matt said, sternness to his voice, enough to make Mailo calm down.

Y/n rubbed her forehead, “Sorry, guys. I’m gonna go check on my daughter.”

Matt nodded, responding first. “It’s okay, go baby.” He said.

Y/n smiled and Mailo took her hand as they left the room.

Y/n walked into the living room seeing Ella on the couch, holding her stomach.

“Ella? Estás bien?” Y/n asked her four year old, walking over and sitting on the couch.

Estás bien?: are you okay?

Estrella lets out a soft whimper, Y/n now noticing the tears down Ella’s face. “Me duele el estomago, mommy.” She lets out a soft cry.

me duele el estómago: my stomach hurts

“Alright, baby. Come on, let’s go lay down.” Y/n told her, grabbing her hand.

She left out another soft cry, making Y/n give her a sad smile and pick her up. “Okay, mommy’s got you.” Y/n cooed as they started to walk up the stairs and to Matt’s old room since they weren’t home.

Y/n then placed Ella down on the bed before she made a weird sound, indicating she was about to throw up.

Y/n immediately backed up, rushing to get the trash can but it was too late as Ella leaned over the side of the bed and threw up on the floor.

Y/n let out a sigh.

Estrella finished rubbing her mouth with her hand.

“Okay, Ella, don’t do that, hold on, baby, let me clean you up.” Y/n said, going to the bathroom before coming back with a wet wash cloth.

She steps over the throw up on the floor and sits on the bed, Ella was sitting there crying as she wiped her own tears. “I’m sorry, mama!” Ella cried.

“Don’t cry, baby. It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.” Y/n hushed, taking the wet washcloth and wiping ella’s face and hands. “Arms up, lovey.” Y/n said, signaling she was gonna change Ella’s shirt for her.

Y/n was grabbing another shirt when the door opened.

“Hey, is everything alr- woah. Someone threw up.” Matt said, looking away at the sight.

“Yes, your daughter did.” Y/n said, a little grumpiness in her tone as she put another shirt on Ella.

Y/n leaned down and kissed Ella’s head as Ella started to fall asleep.

“Can one of you lay down with me?” Ella asked softly, her eyes still closed.

Matt looked at me, i nodded, signaling him to lay down with her while i get stuck cleaning the throw up.

Matt smiled and got on the bed, taking Ella’s small body in his arms, kissing her head and rubbing her back.

—————————

this was lazy but i just wanted to get ts out

tag list: @sturniolosmind @novasturniolo03 @hearts4chriss @vinniehackerslefttoe @christhopersturniolo @mattybswife @streamermattsgf @sturnolio-luvs @sturnioloslurps @marlenafortuna @lovergirl4387 @sturniololovesss @junnniiieee07

[kiwanopie]

Laptop

boyfriend!kiyoomi part IV!

“So… Where’d you two meet?”

Sakusa sighs.

This was exactly the scenario he was trying to avoid. Sitting on the bed adjacent to his longtime teammate and trying to avert his eyes from the way he kicks his feet from under him like an overgrown school boy. His gleeful - prying eyes sear holes in the side of his head from where he’s got his nose pointed at his laptop monitor, and if his hunch should tell him anything; it’s that little Mr. GossipGirl won’t rest until he’s juiced him of all the mushy details.

But the problems not that he doesn’t like talking about you. It’s the opposite actually, he could start and never finish, it’s just…

It’s embarrassing to get all sweet and blushy in front of this honey-eyed fool or any of his teammates. He hates the vulnerability of it all. Fending off a smile and trying to minimize all of these very big, very honest feelings he has about you. And ever since meeting you he’s been very slowly but surely pushing himself away from his previous dispositions.

Aloof old Omi, safely reclusive - inside his little shell, has peeked his head out and fallen in love with the sun.

This guy’s gonna eat that shit up.

Sakusa grazes his finger along the touch pad, tapping it a few times before grumbling curtly. “Can you go to bed already?”

“Not without a bedtime story,” Atsumu chirps. “C’mon. Tell me all about ‘er! I know you want to.”

Sakusa sighs again as he taps in a few loud keys. White orange tinted light turning his skin a filtered fuchsia as the screen flickers. “What are you five? You’re a little too old to be swapping secrets like a grade schooler.”

“Is she a secret though?”

“She’s not.” And that’s a resolute answer if he’s ever heard one.

“Then why won’t you tell me about her?!”

“Because-“ Sakusa blows out an exasperated breath.

There’s a long moment he spends pointing his nose to the hotel ceiling to quietly deliberate. Longer the few seconds he spends clenching and unclenching his jaw as his eyes fall and his pupils twitch in careful thought. He opens his mouth - closes it again but his lips part on their own. Sakusa blows out a breath until his voice comes tumbling after it, and it pains him to know that his fight for composure was fruitless.

“If I tell you, will you shut up and go to bed?”

Atsumu crosses his fingers over his chest. “Hand to God.”

Sakusa stares at him for a while.

“We’ve been… dating for the past couple of years,” Three years and eighteen days of pure bliss. “She was one of my sister's students so we met through her.”

The uncut version is that Sakusa stormed his sister’s office before her lecture could fully clear to bitch about her saddling him with mom on his only days off. Had to have looked mad as a snake when he walked in there, face twisted up and everything.

And obviously a 6’4 Olympian isn’t what your average college student expects to run into during their four o’clock lecture, especially when he’s calling out to their professor like he’s got a loaded gun in his hand. But you were too busy filling in your last minute notes to care about him or whatever he was doing at the time.

Sakusa sees you but he doesn’t see you. He just knows you’re the only person in this room and there’s a wicked witch on the loose. “Have you seen Kyouka?”

You hum. “Sakusa-san?”

“Obviously.”

Your eyes are the first thing he notices when you raise your head. They’re doey and soft and disarming. You’ve got that kind of look to you that reminds him of a love song; one of those old school radio ones that you hear in the car on the way to work but it’s stuck in your head throughout the day and you can’t stop singing it under your breath.

“You look like someone shit in your laptop and closed it.” You say.

The tendons in his jaw stress as you point your extended arm toward the door. “She’s in Nabuya’s lecture down the hall but, I don’t think she’s gonna talk to you with your face all twisted up like that.”

Sakusa quietly nods before turning his heel for the door.

It took two whole months of silently pining and bringing his sister pickled daikon for lunch to finally get you to agree to go out with him, and since then he’s been living on cloud nine.

“Oh-Ho!,” Atsumu grins. “And did charmin’ ol Omi put the work on her? ‘That it?”

He didn’t anticipate how dry the air would be on your first date so he wound up with a nosebleed that geysered for like a solid five minutes. “Yeah…”

“A’right, a’right, So… How is it that I’m just hearin’ about her now? I mean, from that phone call-“

“Let’s not talk about the phone call.”

Atsumu titters. And he seems genuinely happy to see his friend all settled down and loving someone so earnestly. He knows how difficult relationships can be for a high maintenance guy like him, and it’s refreshing to see his edges softened a little. He kicks his feet until he’s pressed against the headboard adjacent to Sakusa, smiling at him from across the way as he cradles a pillow against his chest.

“You should know that you’re safe to talk about yer personal life with us, Omi. It’s not like we were gonna tease ya too much about it.”

Sakusa blows out a short breath through his nose. “I know that. It’s just-…”

The way Sakusa softens up is quite honestly enough to make him start to blush. “____’s really special to me. So, I guess it’s hard to bring her up without getting touchy about feedback.”

Atsumu throws his head back a little. “Well, it’s flatterin’ that you’re bein’ so honest about it with me.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

He snorts as he rests his head on the headboard with a quiet thump!

And then he furrows.

Atsumu leans in to get a better look at his monitor. “Why ya lookin’ up purses?”

Sakusa hurriedly shuts his laptop.

Physical therapy

[missmeinyourbones]

KARMA IS MY BOYFRIEND

cw: jealous reader, flirty atsumu, karma is my boyfriend!!!!!!! karma is the guy on the screen... coming straight home to me!!!!!! ;p karma is atsumu

The public restroom of today’s arena is surprisingly clean.

As MSBY tackles another opponent, you manage to excuse yourself for a moment amid the chaos. Atsumu is still shining on the court, but with his focus on the game and your stealthy escape skills, you know he doesn't notice—let alone mind—your brief absence.

In the tiny confines of the bathroom stall, you can’t help yourself from listening in to the intriguing conversation going on outside.

At first, it’s harmless. If anything, it reminds you of yourself a few years ago. Two girls (you imagine) giggling in front of the bathroom mirror, fixing their hair and retouching their makeup. They have a childlike excitement, one that overflows with the innocence of a fleeting crush. It’s comforting, listening to them blush and swoon over whoever has caught their eye. 

“The things I’d do to that man,” one voice dreamily sighs. 

Another is quick to chime in, “The things I wish he’d do to me.”

It’s refreshing in a way, listening to them yearn and sigh with one another’s encouragement. It reminds you of your own early stages with Atsumu—the ranting to your friends, the not knowing, the butterflies eating you alive from the inside out. You were once those girls, you get it. 

You just can’t help but wonder which player has caught their eye. Bokuto seems to be a fan favorite these days—his contagious energy overflowing throughout every stadium. Sakusa’s decently popular with the ladies too, despite his brooding facade. And Hinata oozes with charisma every time he’s on the screen, so—

“Did you see his last serve? I could think of a few other things he could do with his hands,” the second voice perks up again with a sultry tone. 

Your eyebrows furrow at the mention of the recent play and your suspicions are deemed correct when you bring yourself to exit the stall. 

You see them—two younger girls, decked out head to toe in MSBY merch and proudly sporting none other than your boyfriend's number on their backs. 

They pay no attention to you as you join them by the sink, not knowing who you are, let alone the relationship you hold with the man of their dreams.

“I swear he looked at me the last set,” one of them fans herself in dramatics. 

“You think we can meet him if we linger around the stadium for a bit after his match?”

The latter nods, taking one last once over of her appearance before the two of them make their way back through the door and out to the stands. 

“Tabloids say he’s a huge flirt, so I’m sure he’ll be looking for something—or someone—to do later.”  

The door swings shut and while you’re now alone in the squeaky clean bathroom, you can’t help the dirty jealousy that wrings your aching core. It’s silly. You know it’s silly to be feeling this way, this insecure over something as foolish as locker room talk from someone who doesn't even know Atsumu. 

But that insecurity eats you alive, it festers inside of you like an invasive species. Growing as it feasts on your lingering anxiety—it’s easy to work yourself up over such a nonsensical conversation.

Washing your hands and returning to the court, you can only try so hard to swallow back that ugly feeling and put on your bravest face. 

When you return, the next set is just coming to an end. You watch Atsumu converse with his teammates, nodding in approval before directing his attention to the sidelines. 

He immediately smirks when he catches your eye. Trotting over to the bench, he grabs his water bottle to take a few hefty swigs. With a mouth full of water, he eagerly makes his way over to you. 

“Hey, baby,” he coos, still slightly out of breath, “where’d you run off to?”

You can’t help but smile at the question before responding, “Bathroom.”

Atsumu nods as he cautiously takes in your expression. “Havin’ fun so far?” he beams.

Your cheeks flush a bit at his charm, but you bite your tongue in fear of egging on his already giant ego. You soak in his genuine curiosity before muttering a tiny praise of “You’re killing it out there.”

His tongue skims the point of his canine when he laughs smugly at the compliment.

“Keep being nice t’me and m’gonna start thinking you have a crush on me.”

Your boyfriend’s tease has your kissing your teeth. “Never,” you sarcastically scoff. 

He uses his jersey to wipe the small beads of sweat forming above his lip, exposing the toned muscles of his abdomen and the way it flexes at the simple action. And you swear it’s not your imagination when you hear two surprised gasps echo from behind you. It burns your chests like a lit match.

On the other hand, Atsumu couldn't care less, eyes never leaving yours as he still catches his breath. 

He takes another swig from his water bottle, “What’re we havin’ for dinner tonight?”

Though it’s silly, you’re grateful for his random question. It's genuine, it carries a kind of raw domesticity that those women in the bathroom could never take away from you. 

You roll your eyes at the question, before nodding to the court. 

“Focus on the game, and then we’ll talk,” you hum in amusement. 

Your hand rises to fix the stray hairs damp with sweat spread on his forehead. Atsumu’s eyes flicker closed at your soft touch, one that’s gone far sooner than he’d like, before you're pulling your hand back to your side. 

But he catches your wrist before you can fully retreat. Maintaining eye contact, Atsumu places a gentle kiss to your wrist before mumbling against the skin. 

“Doesn’t matter,” he assures, sucking a bit on where his lips dance along the bone, “I’m only concerned about what’s for dessert, anyways.”

With a swatting hand and blushing cheeks, you fluster as Atsumu returns to the court with a proud smirk and a special glimmer in his eye. 

And it’s in this moment that you realize—people can say whatever they want, because, at the end of the day, Atsumu is always going home with you.

[specialagentlokitty]

Joey x reader - belong together

Can you do one where Joey gets stood up and Make Reader tells him maybe he's not going for the right team and offered to go on a date with him? If that's not your thing maybe have a Female Reader who's a nerd and say he's always going for models or not smart ladies? - Anon💜

Hearing a knock on your door, you looked up from the dinner you were cooking and wiped your hands on the dish cloth, making your way over to open it.

You furrowed your brows in confusion when you saw who was stood on the other side.

“Joey? What’s wrong?”

“Everything sucks…” he grumbled.

You stepped aside, letting him come inside and you closed the door, making your way back to the kitchen.

You slapped his hand away from the fridge as he went to grab a few snacks.

“I’m cooking dinner, it’s nearly ready.”

Joey stood looking over your shoulder, looking at the food in the pans.

“What’re we having?”

“We’re having chilli, can you get me some bowls?”

He nodded, getting the bowls and some cutlery, and you dished his up for him before making your own.

Joey walked to your couch and sat down and you sat next to him, handing him the TV remote so he could put whatever it was he wanted in the TV.

“So, do you want to tell me why everything sucks?” You asked.

Joey sighed, resting his head on your shoulder.

“I had a date with this really hot chick right, we’re talking mind blowingly hot. Set a time and everything, I wasn’t even late, sat there for an hour and she never even turned up.”

You nodded a little bit, carrying on eating your dinner.

“Where’d you meet her?”

“Audition.”

You hummed a little bit, shrugging your shoulder to let him know that you wanted to move.

When Joey sat up, you moved forward to set your bowl on the table and sat back again, letting Joey rest his head on your shoulder.

“I mean I didn’t do anything wrong did it?” He asked.

“No, no of course you didn’t.”

You took your friends hand, giving it a gentle squeeze to reassure him.

You knew ever since Chandler and Monica got together he was struggling with the idea of being alone.

But Joey wasn’t exactly the kind of guy to stick to a stable relationship, he slept around, never interested in getting to know the women after.

He was trying, but he either slipped back into old habits, or he would come up with some excuse as to why it wouldn’t work out between them.

“Then what am I doing wrong? Come on (N/N) you always know everything.”

You sighed a little bit.

“I’m not exactly qualified to give relationship advice J, I’m hardly the statue to compare relationships with. I don’t really do relationships if you haven’t noticed.”

Joey shuffled around a little bit, laying on his back, his head in your lap.

You ran your fingers through his hair, glancing down at him before turning your attention back to the TV.

“You always say smart things. Tell me smart things.”

This made you laugh a little bit.

“Alright, okay. Have you ever considered perhaps you’re dating the wrong demographic of people?”

Joey furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Consider all your past relationships, both actual relationships and casual flings you’ve had with people.”

“Okay?”

“What do they all have in common?”

Joey thought for a moment, going quiet as he thought about your question.

“They’re all smoking hot.”

“Perhaps that’s your mistake.”

“What?”

“Joey you only go for good looking women, you don’t think about how smart they may be, what they do for work, what kind of person they are, you see a hot woman and you chase after her. What happened to you today is no different than what you did to all those other women.”

He slowly nodded his head.

“So, what do I do? How do I have what Monica and Chandler have?”

“Stop chasing after just one night stands and hot women. Find a friend first, build your relationship up from that friendship. Take things slowly.”

“So? Like nerds?”

You slapped his chest and he laughed a little bit, taking your hand to hold it against his chest so you couldn’t slap him again.

“You can’t go around calling people nerds idiot. I’m saying maybe go for a woman with smarts, who can actually look at you and see you for more than just an actor, a chance for big money. Who sees that you’re actually a really sweet guy, who loves animals, who has such a huge and kind heart.”

Joey smiled softly.

“Do you really think that? You don’t think I’m some asshole?”

“I think you’re an asshole at the best of times J, but you wanna know something?”

Joey sat up, turning around so he could look at you.

Getting up, you placed your hand on the side of his face and pressed a tender kiss to his forehead.

“I know you deserve somebody who understand who you actually are, all those models you like to go out with won’t ever see that.”

You grabbed the two bowls, taking them through to the kitchen while Joey just sat there for a moment processing what you had said.

He jumped up, rushing around the couch and he stood in the doorway to the kitchen.

“(Y/N)?”

You turned around to look at him.

He wore a little grin on his face as he gestured from himself to you.

“What about me and you?”

You laughed softly at him.

“Joey have you really though this through?”

“For like a minute yeah, come on, you’re my best friend, and you already know me! You know what I like and don’t like, and I know you! Come on, just a date!”

You sighed a little bit, and he grinned a little bit more, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Just dinner?”

“We just had dinner.”

“Tomorrow?”

You hummed a little bit.

“Think about it for a week, if that’s still what you want then alright.”

“Yes!”

Joey ran over to you, crushing you in a hug and you laughed, hugging him back just as tightly, letting him move you from side to side.

You had always had feelings for Joey, but you had never had the guts to act on them, so the thought of going to dinner with him made your whole life light up.

But you needed to make sure that he was serious about this, cause you couldn’t bare a broken heart and loosing your best friend

[makncheese12]

Top Shelf pt. 6

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 7

Summary: being the kid of a well-known book store owner was easy, so was running into famous people. But being book smart doesn’t make everyone people smart.

A/N: this was an idea someone sent, I added some stuff as well. I can already see you guys flocking in when I post this chapter, especially after not posting for a bit.

Warning: language? My writing

Jenna Ortega x Fem!reader

“You’re pathetic,” Lyle says as he begins aggressively erasing the work you had tried so hard on. “Can’t do maths, can’t cook, can’t flirt, what can you do?” He says as you lean back and drag your hands down your face.

He had been like this the entire weekend after your outing with Jenna and Emma; mentioning how you were bad at everything and never forgetting to mention how you can’t flirt.

Though he had been texting Emma all weekend, the two had come short of any ideas of what to do to make you two put two and two together and finally ask the other out.

And the two of you weren’t exactly helpful.

“Do you have to berate me on something no one’s is good at?” You ask, watching your cat jump on the table and begin playing with the small eraser scraps.

“You don’t have to be good at it to know how to do it.” He says picking up a book from the large pile of stacked books.

“I haven’t done it in years, why do I have to it now?” You ask as he slams the book down. “Because you need to do it or you’ll live a lonely life in the darkness of your room forever.” He states angrily as he flips through the pages aggressively.

“Are you sure you’re still talking about business school?” Dru asks looking up from the computer before looking back down.

“Yes,” Lyle says as he pushes the open book toward you. “What else would we be talking about?” He yanks his head toward you and his tightly tied back hair comes loose from the hair tie.

He lets out an aggravated huff before pulling his hair back and walking away to find a mirror, mumbling this and that under his breath as he does so.

“He’s being over dramatic.” You say as Mj takes her seat in front of you, loud dinging noises coming from the game boy she had found somewhere stashed away in the storage closet.

“It’s Lyle, of course he’s being over dramatic.” She mumbles, eyes never leaving the small screen in front of her.

How she had found the small game you didn’t know, you used to dig through the storage compartment all day before working at the bookstore but never once did you see any of the older electronic’s, even when the store had stopped selling them.

Then again it was a big area, you wouldn’t be surprised if they found one of the first TV’s in there.

“He’s never going to leave me alone about this.” You mumble, music loudly vibrating through your ear bud as you begin working again. “Again, it’s Lyle we’re talking about here.”

She was right, though he was one of your best friends he still had his tendencies to try to get too into that roll. Trying to help you with things but taking it too far most of the time.

Yes, you appreciated it but sometimes it could be a bit much.

“Yo,” the voice calls out from the second floor making you look up to see the plumber. “I’m done, I just gotta show you some shit that you need to replace or fix.” He says and you sigh.

“Can you check this for me?” You ask sliding your notebook toward the woman who huffs out but non the less takes the book to look over.

You smile lightly before rushing toward the stairs to catch up with the much older man.

“And she can’t even look her in the eye!” Lyle grumbles as he scratches Achilles stomach walking back toward his table of friends.

“Now where’d she go? Trying to avoid her work just like asking Jenna out?” He asks as he looks around and allows the cat to jump out of his arms and toward the cat tree in the front of the store.

“Chill,” Mj says as she checks off one problem and begins erasing another. “She went with the Jones to check the pipes.”

“Oh,” he mumbles before slumping himself into his seat next to yours. “Can you believe her though?” He asks and she can’t help herself as she rolls her eyes.

Yes, she knew you were bad at anything to do in the romantic section of things but he didn’t have to tell her non stop after your little double date.

“Yes, I can.” She says as she slides the book back into its spot. He scrunches his nose in disgust as the girl stands to put the game boy back where she found it.

“What do you mean?” He asks following after her quickly.

“Not everyone is like you and wants to rush into relationships Lyle.” She groans out noticing the boy following her. “You can’t expect Y/N to rush a fucking celebrity into a relationship either.”

“But their both annoyingly oblivious.” He states as she climbs the ladder in the storage room. “Maybe, but let them do it their own way with just a little of your help, look,” she starts before jumping down the ladder to look up toward the man.

“Y/N is a quiet kid you should know this by now, we are the ones who decided to bust into her life after all. She keeps most herself and things to herself, never takes off her ear buds and doesn’t bother anyone.” She states as they leave the room.

“You can’t expect her to change what she knows over night because of one person, even if she is clearly in love with them. And Jenna,” she quickly turns to look at the man.

“She probably speculates every little suspicious thing, she is famous after all. She could think Y/N is just in it for the fame or whatever.” Lyle presses his lips together at the thought of you and your very private family wanting to be seen by the world, it only makes him snort at the mere idea.

“But she’s not.” He replies and she taps his chest. “So let her figure that out, let them figure it out. You don’t have to berate her twenty four seven.”

“That’s exactly what you do all the time.” Dru adds as he clicks the computer mouse quickly. “No, I do it to make you all better as people, he’s doing it to just humiliate Y/N.” The woman calls out. “There’s a differe-“

Before she could finish the sentence the man in front of her sprints away and toward the front of the store.

He quickly twists the lock and yanks the door open before forcing himself out. The person he had seen turns to look at him making the second much larger person do the same.

“Jenna!” He calls out, walking out of the door and toward her. “Leaving so soon?” His smiling wide and beaming when he steps up to her.

A small smile forms on her own face as the man nears, his lanky form now towering over her own. “Hey Lyle,” she says as the man steps between the two and shoots a quick glare toward the much larger man.

“And kind of, the stores closed.” She gestures toward the small closed sign on the door and shrugs.

“Nonsense.” he says and pulls the girl toward the door. “It’s just us so you can come in.” He quickly ushers her through and pushes the body guard inside before slamming the door back shut and locking it.

A pressure forms at the bottom Jenna’s leg causing her to look down and see a fluffy cat rubbing up angst her leg before looking up at her.

She lets out a quiet gasp as she reaches down and picks up the orange ball of fluff as it begins to purr. “Oh my god.” she gasp as he begins rubbing its head on the top.

Lyle can’t help the smirk that forms, the usually jumpy cat immediately fawning over Jenna, just like it’s owner. How hysterical.

“That’s Achilles.” He says as he begins walking toward the counter Jenna following closely behind as the cat settles into her arms. “He’s Y/N’s.”

“He’s a street rat who belongs on the street.” Mj says walking out of the storage room once again holding a different gaming device even Lyle couldn’t decipher.

“And that’s Mj,�� Lyle huffs out. “Also Y/N’s, she found her at a McDonalds.” He makes sure to mutter the last part but it only earns a glare from the woman.

“Mj? Like Mary Jane?” Jenna jokes as the cat begins rubbing up on her chin once again. The joke only earns a glare from the taller woman who presses her lips together.

The joke had been made so many times that it was getting old, even for Lyle who found it amusing every time.

“Y/N!” The woman yells too loudly for a library before quickly turning and storming off in the direction where you had left.

She looks up to Lyle who glance between her and the stairs where she stomped up. The man was both awkward and sociable, not like many she had met; most were either just awkward or very social. It was a strange thing.

“And that,” he says suddenly, gesturing to the man whose playing the computer with his face far to close to the screen. “Is Dru, you can just call him DD.”

“Do not call me that.” The man says as he eyes go over the screen as if being unfocused and trying to refocus.

“That’s your name, idiot.” He empathizes the last word as he leans against the counter. “My initials are not my name.” The man rolls his eyes as he only gives the two a glance. “That’s what makes up your name, hence your name.”

“That makes no sense.” His eyes stay on the screen but his face scrunches at the mans comment.

“Moving on,” the man drags out as he leans further into the counter toward Jenna who turned to him, still holding the cat. “What brings you here?” He asks, fighting the smirk that slowly begins to form on his face.

“Uh..” Jenna mumbles as her eyes travel down to the cat who stares back up at her. “Just in the area?..” it comes out as more of a question and Lyles face drops as he stares at the girl, head resting in hand.

“Just in the area?” He asks, clearly not buying whatever lie she was trying to tell. “Yeah.” She states but it comes out uncertain as if she were trying to figure it out herself.

“Uh huhh,” he says as his other hand comes up to rest under his chin with the other. “Definitely not because of a library loser.” He says, legs kicking behind the counter as he raises his eyebrows suggestively at her.

She opens her mouth to speak but is quickly stopped at the sound of foot steps echoing in the quiet library.

“Just don’t forget to tell your parents, yeah?” A man’s voice says as she looks up to see you, Mj and a man who had to be the source of the voice.

“Got it.” You reply before your eyes meet hers and she can’t help but notice the way your eyes scrunch up as you smile at her or the way her heart begins beating at a faster pace as you do so.

“Hey,” you say as you step toward her glancing down at the cat in her hands. “Is that my cat?” The confusion in your voice evident as you point at it “Does it look like your cat?” Mj asks, rolling her eyes as she locks the door behind the plumber.

“Yes but my cat doesn’t like people.” You state, watching as it begins rubbing its head against her cheek and his purrs grow louder.

“Sound like someone you know?” Dru asks as a small smile forms on his face.

“Well, he clearly likes Jenna.” Lyle mumbles as you narrow your eyes down at the cat who seemed to be taunting you with his eyes. He had never been that affectionate before, why was he starting now?

“Jealous?” Jenna asks, eye brow rising as she smirks up at you. Your narrowed eyes move to her as you press your lips together.

You started noticing different things about Jenna, like now how she used certain things to her advantage to get to you. A way to tease you more so but to see your reactions always gave her a boost in both her ego and confidence.

“I think she’s more jealous of the cat.” All confidence was gone at the comment Lyle says as he watches the two of you, amused by every look or comment you’d send each other. The blush from the cold air outside turned darker as she looked back down to the cat and the shade on your face was much darker.

He liked the way you both seemed to blush, now certain you both had interest in the other but then Mj’s voice broke his thoughts about their earlier conversation and he let a pout take his features as he slipped down the counter and to the other side.

It wasn’t going to be easy nor enjoyable for the man but it was what was right. Not being able to interfere much was going to kill him but he figured if he could get to tease you both a little he would live.

“I still think it’s strange how such a skittish thing could just decide it wasn’t going to be skittish with one person.” You state, laughing quietly to yourself as you make your way back toward the table.

“He’s usually not like this?” Jenna asks as she follows after you leaving Lyle to peek over the counter to watch you.

“Quit, you’re being creepy.” Mj says as she moves past the small door to see him in a squatting position.

“It’s not creepy, I’m just observing.” He states as his eyes narrow at the lack of spaces between you both as Jenna takes her seat not in front of you but beside you.

“Yeah, like a creep.” She mutters as she looks over toward the two of you.

“They’re so infuriating.” The man mumbles inviting her statement as he turns around and leans against the cup cabinets, legs sprawled out.

The woman only shakes her head and rolls her eyes, preparing herself for the rant that’s to come from the man.

“Business school?” She asks as she looks over your notebook and the many erased parts on it as she subconsciously rubs Achilles.

“Cant let some random stranger take over once my parents retire, you know?” You say as you tap to end of the pencil on the table, looking over the work Mj had marked wrong.

“Worst part about being the kid of a library owner is people think you’re smart.” You state as you begin erasing once again. “So, you’re not smart?”

You snort quietly as you look up toward her. “Oh I definitely am, my mom made sure of that.” You state at the thought of you and your mom at the table in the middle of the night while you cry over homework.

“Math was just never my strongest subject.” You state, glaring down at the paper with the faintest of pouts on your face.

That’s one thing Jenna began to notice more often, your facial expressions. Even the smallest ones became more noticeable. Or maybe she was just staring you too often.

“What about you?” You ask suddenly leaning back into your chair. “Do you go to college?” It was a reasonable question, she was your age and definitely suitable for going but it still saddened her slightly.

“No, I’m focusing more on my acting career.” She states with a small smile as she stares down at the cat in her lap who had fallen asleep with its head up.

“It makes me wonder what my life would be like if I never started acting.” She hums out quietly and she begins tracing the stripes across your cat.

The way her face relaxes with sorrow makes your heart ache slightly, the tightening feeling only makes you want to reach out to her and comfort her but would that be pushing it?

No, it couldn’t have been, right? You had grown close over the last month but you didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t.” The words come out certain, cocky almost. A smirk plays it’s way onto your face as she looks up with a raised eyebrow and a small smile.

“Why’s that?” She asks, leaning toward you subconsciously and you can’t help but do the same very not as much as she does.

If there was no distance between you both before, there certainly wasn’t now with her thigh and arm pressed against yours.

“Because then you wouldn’t have come here and knocked down the books off the shelf or I wouldn’t have met you.” You say, smirk; proud of yourself for having any type of height to help her with the book.

A quiet laugh comes from the woman, one you had heard many times in different forms but it had also got your heart pounding against your chest, eager to get out and display itself before her.

“That is a good point.” She says nodding to herself as she continues rubbing Achilles across his back making it arch subconsciously in his sleep. Her eyes meet yours, they’re once again scrunched up from your smile and far warmer than the weather outside, it causes her heart to beat even faster than before.

She goes to say something else but is once again interrupted by one of your friends.

“Everyone stop!” Dru calls out as he stands quickly, the screech of the chair filling the room. Lyle’s head pops above the counter and Mj looks up from her book.

“Can you shut the hell up?” She calls out, annoyance clear in her voice as the man begins gathering his things.

“It’s 5:30, we need to go.” He says, rushing around to pick things up and put them away.

That’s right. Thirty minutes before Thursday throw down on Minecraft, a large match on bed wars with a hundred players against each other. Something he took far too seriously.

“Go where?” Jenna asks as you begin gathering your things. “Back to my place for his stupid little game.” You roll your eyes looking back at every Thursday’s for the past five years.

“You should come see us screaming at a screen.” You state as you look toward the girl, realization hits you when you realize it wasn’t exactly a question. “If you want, that is.”

She laughs quietly as the man rushes past the two of you with many CD cases in hand, eager to get back to your apartment.

“I would love to.” She says and relief rushes through you and a smile graces your face. “Great.” You say, smile never leaving as you go to put the books in the respective spot while trying to remember if you had cleaned up your apartment or not.

“Hurry!” The man ushers all of you as he grabs the leash to Achilles harness and clips it to him making Jenna take it as she stands, still refusing the drop the cat.

————

You’re eyes quickly find the familiar old homeless man in front of your apartment building bringing a smile to your face as he plucks his guitar strings with such elegance even you were jealous.

“Hey Julian.” You say with a smile as you step up to him and he stops playing to look at your small group.

“Ah, on another one of your sleep overs?” He asks as he scans the group before his eyes land on Jenna. “And you brought a new friend.” He says with a smile but Dru quickly shuts any time for introductory out as he storms past you.

“5:53, let’s go people!” He says as he storms inside the door.

The man rolls his eyes before they land on Lyle. “I see why the boys are acting strange now, you’re here Lyle.” He says and the man stiffens up, the thought of six little boys running around your apartment building with water guns clear in his mind.

Your smile grows as you move past him, Mj and Jenna not far behind. “Careful, ellos quieren venganza..” the man says and you can’t help but feel sorry for Lyle who was about to be soaked in — god knows from where — water.

You rush up the stairs to your floor only to be met with a Dru who looks down at his watch and shuffles around anxiously.

“Come on.” He drags out as you walk up to the door and unlock it.

As soon as the door opens Achilles jumps out of Jenna’s arms and circles your feet, screaming loudly as you make your way to the kitchen.

You huff out as he jumps up on the counter to watch you grab his food.

“Turn it on!” You hear Dru call out as Mj settles into the bean bag next to your couch, holding up the remote as Dru sits eagerly on the edge of the couch leaving Jenna to stand in your kitchen as she looks around the small kitchen connected to your much larger living room.

“This is nice.” She says as Mj turns on the Led lights and Dru messes with the tv controls.

“Thanks, don’t mind the cat hair.” You mumble as you place the cat bowl on the ground making Achilles jump down and begin eating.

“There’s lots of it, everywhere.” You say brushing some off your hands and watching it fall to the floor. You would have to clean it up later.

You walk past her and place your phone on the counter where Dru and Mj’s sat before making your way into the living room.

She couldn’t help but smile at your lack of need for social media, all of you. Yeah, you posted a lot but other than that you all seemed to actually talk and enjoy each others presence rather than be hunched over on your phones.

She hesitates for a moment before placing her own phone on the counter and following you into the living and taking a seat next to you on the couch.

You had het a controller and she furrows her eyebrows in confusion.

“Don’t worry,” you say pressing the power button on hers then yours. “I’ll teach you and make sure Dru doesn’t try anything.” You say as you scoot toward her a little more so your knees are touching. You couldn’t tell if she could hear your heart beating in your chest or not but you hoped she couldn’t.

The door suddenly slams open making you all look up to see a partially wet Lyle as water begins squirting inside the apartment.

“You can’t hide forever, Lyle Lyle crocodile!” A voice calls as he slams to the door shut and a chorus of high pitched laughs rings outside your door.

“I’m crashing here tonight.” He says as he storms toward your room. Now you see why all of your clothes were mixed with the groups, you all had different articles of clothes littered around your rooms and at this point you didn’t know what belongs to who.

“We’re starting the game without him.” Dru says as the starting screen pops up and all four of your characters pop up divided into four parts of the tv. This should be fun.

————

And fun it was. For you and Dru at least, while Lyle watched Mj attack different players you were helping Jenna at her own base and protecting her from Dru who swore he would get her ‘stupid pink’ bed.

A rivalry began between the two as Jenna got used to the game she would insist on going after Dru many times. With your help she of course did get him, it was truly beautiful.

Now you sat next to Jenna as the game came to an end, Lyle and Mj had fallen asleep, while Dru was taking pictures of the screen to flaunt to everyone on his discord about how he had gotten first place in the tournament.

You look to Jenna who watched Dru with a small smile on her face and you found yourself wondering how many freckles really did litter across her smooth skin. Her features were absolutely perfect, from her nose, to her eyes and to her high cheek bones. You didn’t really see any flaws as your eyes travel to her lips, curled up into a smile.

Your eyes snap up as she looks toward you, smile becoming softer before an idea comes to mind. You gesture toward the window that led onto your fire escape watching confusion fill her face.

You laugh lightly before grabbing her wrist and leading her toward the window before pulling it open and stepping out only to be met with the cold air of the winter night and slide yourself to sit on the edge of the fire escape.

Jenna’s not to far behind as she steps out after you as she swings her legs over the ledge.

“Not bad for your first try at bed wars.” You say as you lean back against your arms and look toward her.

“Who said it was my first time?” Raising an eyebrow she turns her head toward and smirks lightly.

“Yeah, let’s just forget how you were walking off the edges of your island non stop.” She sucks her teeth and rolls her eyes but her smile never leaves as she stares you. “Totally not your first time.”

She chuckles lightly as she glances around and looks at the city while your eyes never leave her. With the wind blowing past her, she looks almost ethereal, would have if she didn’t shiver lightly before settling back down.

The sound of cars honking, metal clanking together and other sounds you were used to sound through the air, creating a back ground noise for you as you watch her. The way her breathing was calm, much calmer than yours. The way she watched the loud city before, bright colors shining on her face making it light it up completely giving you full view of her side profile.

“It’s beautiful.” She says looking at the lit up city you were not really worried about at the moment as you continued to stare at her.

“Yeah, it is.” You reply quietly and she slowly takes her eyes from the glowing city before they land on you.

You both sat there for a moment, staring at each other unsure of what to do or what the other might do. The air felt two times thicker as you attempted to get your breathing and heart beat under control as her eyes stay locked with yours.

You watched as her eyes snap down once before quickly moving back up to your eyes and you can’t help the twist that form in your stomach tempted to do the same as you glance between both of her eyes, they were darker than they usually were in the light.

You break slightly as you too glance down before quickly looking back up and you lean in, slowly and hesitantly as you watch her every reaction carefully.

She seems to subconsciously do the same, but this time her eyes continue to move from your eye and back down to your lips.

Your nerves boost through the roof as you get closer, heart beat beating quicker than it ever has and suddenly a line of chords begins to play. You recognized it, the way they sounded far too beautiful to be just anyone playing.

The sound quickly becomes a background noise along with the sounds of the city as you come close to Jenna, lips a few centimeters apart as you glance down toward them them back to her eyes to search for any hesitation or want to back out.

Her breath fans over your face lightly as she stares up at you, eyes wide and waiting as she watches you.

“Is this okay?” You ask in a quiet voice, too quiet for your liking as your heart beat drums through your ears, eyes looking over Jenna’s face. There was no need to ask to kiss her, she could clearly see what you were doing but you wanted to make sure this is what she wanted.

And it was in fact what she wanted. The thought of your slightly chapped lips kissing hers made her heart jump into her throat and claw its way out.

Her only response is reaching up and leaning in, her hands resting gently on her face as her lips brush against yours with hesitation. The feeling sends a shock through your body that makes you shiver lightly as her skin begins to feel hot against yours.

You let out a shaky breath as you too lean in, lips crashing against her a bit too eagerly but she doesn’t seem as she leans in further, deepening the kiss completely as her body presses against yours.

You suddenly become all to aware of your surroundings, the sounds of the city filling your senses as does the gentle guitar that plays under you.

Now you recognize it. Frank Sark. Which song exactly? You didn’t know but you knew it was being played by Julian. His music just as sweet as the girl in front of you. Holding your face with a gentleness of an angel that you didn’t deserve but she still gave it to you as her thumb rubs across your cheek lightly.

This was the perfect end of your night under the starless sky in the bright city.

Next part here!

A/N: my mistake was that I kept saying ‘your cat’ and my friend was making jokes 🥲

Also bare with me, I don’t know how to write people kissing much, I’ll probably edit it later.

I’m not sure if the kissing scene even made sense please tell me if it did🫶🏻

[livwritesstuff]

so those following my steddie-dads series may know that Steve and Eddie named their daughters after important people in their life. Moe (or Lucy Maureen) gets her middle name from Eddie’s mom. Robbie (Amelia Robin) is named after Robin, obviously. Their third and final baby Hazel’s middle name is James, after Hopper.

In the aftermath of all the shit they went through in Hawkins, it didn’t take long for Jim to add Steve to his collection of “kids who pretend to be punching bags for people they care about” (his words). By the time Steve was stepping into adulthood, Hop was Steve’s dad in everything but blood and legal title (and that was even before Steve’s estrangement from his actual father), and when Hazel was born in 2007, he and Joyce were Steve’s second call (Robin being the first, obviously). 

Two days later, their plane touched down in Boston.

Hazel was asleep when they arrived, and didn’t stir even while Steve passed her into Hopper’s arms

“Christ, she’s small,” Jim says quietly, looking down at the little baby.

“She’s actually bigger than Robbie was,” Steve replies, “Crazy different from the older two now though.”

For a second, Steve just watches, watches as Hopper adjusts the sleeping baby, watches him run a finger over her little cheek.

“Did you see her name, hon?” Joyce asks him, gesturing to the name embroidered on Hazel’s little hat (Steve had told her the name in advance, learning from experience that it wasn’t wise to catch them both off-guard at once).

Steve watches Jim squint to read the pink stitching, holding back a dumb comment about how he needed his glasses.

“Hazel…James,” Hop mumbles. He pauses, clears his throat, “That’s…what a name. Where’d you guys come up with that one.”

“After you,” Steve tells him, “In case that wasn’t clear.”

Jim is quiet for a long time, and Steve couldn’t say anything else around the tightness in his throat even if he wanted to, so he stays quiet too while Ed wraps an arm around his waist and presses a firm kiss to the side of his head. 

“It’s a big honor,” Hopper finally says, his voice wrecked, not taking his eyes off the baby.

Steve can only nod.

“Well deserved,” Eddie tells him seriously, “She’s got big shoes to fill.”

Then, because he can’t help himself, he adds, “And if she starts spilling classified government secrets, we’ll know who to blame.”

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-seven of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

They walk to their first planned destination, Kon being unfairly adorable and also an asshole at the same time, because it’s Kon so of course he can multitask that kind of shit. Tim gets teased about his taste in kids’ toys and his date budget and his theoretical Smash skills, which he’s clearly going to need to educate the bastard on the hard way. Alternately, Tim also gets Hawaiian gummy candy shared with him, never mind that Kon apparently both really likes it and hasn’t had it in months. 

Tim continues to be in way too deep and finds it sweet of him, possibly because of the excited and pleased way Kon grins at him when he tells him likes the candy. 

Tim is definitely in way too deep. 

They get where they’re going, and Kon . . . pauses, and then tilts his head and raises an eyebrow at him. 

“Seriously?” he asks. 

“Trust me,” Tim says with admittedly unwarranted confidence as he squeezes his hand, then leads him into the modern art museum looming in front of them. Kon isn’t the type to really be that into museums, he knows, but they did “meet” in one and also this specific exhibit seemed, well . . . 

Promising, he guesses. 

“Sure, pretty boy,” Kon says with a laugh, squeezing his hand in return. Tim is idly mystified as to why Kon keeps calling him that, but in no way intends to dissuade him from it. If Kon wants to call him completely illogical things, that’s up to him.

He takes Kon to the ticket counter and buys them both a ticket. The clerk asks for their ID and Kon hesitates, because he’s obviously never had or needed an actual ID in his life, but Tim’s already pulling out the fake ones he made for “Alvin Draper” and “Connell Hill”. They won’t stand up to Bat-level scrutiny, obviously–he didn’t have the time or see the point in going that far–but they’ll get them into an adults-only museum night. He’ll do up something more reliable to buy the cul-de-sac with. He has a few identities that could buy property established, but Bruce knows all of those identities, so he’d rather avoid using any of them. Easier to just build a new cover ID from scratch than hide an active one setting up a new residence that isn’t an obvious safehouse, he figures. 

He pays the clerk, pockets his receipt, and they head down the hall together. The museum is one of the nicer ones in Gotham, and decorated a little bit more nicely than usual for the event, but not outright extravagantly. It’s due to be open a little later than usual too, though Tim doesn’t know how late Kon will want to stay. He can probably push back their dinner reservations if it comes to it, though he’s not expecting that to be necessary. 

“It’s an 18+ thing?” Kon asks as soon as they’re out of the clerk’s earshot, raising an eyebrow curiously. “The frick kind of museum is this?” 

“Not that kind,” Tim says, trying not to blush. “They just do adults-only events sometimes. It’s just so there won’t always be a bunch of bratty kids and annoying teenagers running around distracting the older museum-goers. And there's hors d'oeuvres and drinks.” 

“Babe, I don’t know about you, but you are aware I am technically both a bratty kid and an annoying teenager, right?” Kon asks him with a smirk. 

“That would be why I got you a fake ID too,” Tim says reasonably. 

“So we just snuck into a museum with fake IDs,” Kon says with a laugh. “I mean, I’ve done weirder, probably, but what the fuck, Tim? Where’d you even get that?” 

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Tim says only a little bit sheepishly, carefully avoiding the latter question. Also every other version of this kind of exhibit he found was way more kid-oriented and definitely not going to count as the kind of “nice” date to have convinced Kon to dress up for or actually look like Tim had put effort into any of the night. 

“What, did the goat idol end up here?” Kon asks in amusement. “We checking up on the little guy?” 

“No, he’s still living his best life in Metropolis under increased security, last I heard,” Tim says, though that’d be kind of funny, so depending on how long they’re seeing each other maybe he should keep that idea in mind. 

“You actually checked?” Kon asks with a laugh. 

. . . right, that’s not something a normal teenager would do, is it. Well–too late now, so Tim’s just gonna have to lean into it. 

“I was just wondering what they were going to do with it, after a whole gallery wall got blown in and everything,” he says. “Apparently the answer was ‘close for a weekend and then back to business’. Don’t ask me where they found contractors that fast.” 

“It’s Metropolis,” Kon says. “If you can’t find a contractor to fix superhero damage, you’re not trying.” 

“It wasn’t actually superhero damage,” Tim points out. “You didn’t break anything.” 

“A real fucking important vase, apparently,” Kon snorts, but he’s smiling a little as he shrugs. “Alright, fine, but ‘mediocre museum robber damage’ probably doesn’t sound as good on the insurance, now does it? And I look much prettier in the paper than a bunch of mug shots of idiots who didn’t even know how to work their cute lil’ magic goat buddy.” 

“Definitely, yeah,” Tim agrees wryly, steering him down a side hall towards the sounds of other people. Frankly he’s counting them lucky the goat didn’t try to start a magical apocalypse or something, given how their lives usually go. And also it was Metropolis, which sucks enough as it is. So like, of course the apocalypse would come from Metropolis, given the option and opportunity to. 

“I don't know much about art or whatever, you know,” Kon says a little bit awkwardly, peering down the hall towards the dimly-lit gallery ahead. “Like–that was not prioritized in the ‘how to be Superman’ educational package. Especially because it was written by committee by a bunch of people who I'm still pretty sure had never even met the guy. Like ever.” 

“You don't have to know anything about art to like it,” Tim says reasonably, resisting a vague urge to frown over the way Kon phrased that. Note to self, maybe. Just–for later, obviously. “But this isn't really that kind of exhibit.” 

“Isn't this an art museum?” Kon says with a puzzled frown. “What else is there?”

“It's a ‘multimedia experience primed to dazzle and delight all of the observer's senses’,” Tim recites wryly off the website copy he was reading earlier this week. “Also known as a sensory exhibit.” 

“A–what?” Kon wrinkles his nose in confusion.