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maxlarens · 2 months

Note

ok so i had an idea for the rb photographer fic if you're up for it

first of all im like in love w ur fics i love em all

and nextly, listen to this..

charles isn't single but manwhore carlos probably is?

he flirts w our photographer and makes max jealous?? roped in by danny ofc to get them together?? what do you think??

anyway have a great day! <33333

UM OKAY THANK YOU! max x rbphotographer!reader are literally everything to me and i am SOO thrilled to have gotten this request. very in character for daniel to get everyone involved in scheming even tho max has told him not to😭 love it so much😇😇 hope u enjoy and i am SOOOO sorry this took so long xx

MV: tonight (i wish i was your boy)

pairing(s): max verstappen x redbull photographer!reader

word count: 1.9k+

Max likes to think he’s not a jealous person.

Max likes to think that— but it doesn’t mean it’s true. Daniel would and has, argued that Max is an abnormally jealous person. In the sense that Max doesn’t like to share. Doesn’t like other people playing with his toys. Not that he thinks of you (or Daniel) as his toy— that’s absurd. He’s a jealous person, not some territorial asshole with an anger problem. (Okay, sometimes he has an anger problem. He’s been working on it. It hardly crops up anymore, but he’s not territorial).

He is, again, bad at sharing, and also uniquely used to getting what he wants.

It’s not because he’s got a crush on you. Despite what Daniel would like to assume. It’s just that you’re meant to be his friend. You’re here with him, because of him. He’s meant to be able to hover around you all night, getting carried away as he tries to explain something meaningless while you give him that half-grin that you don’t even realise you’re doing most of the time. He’s the one who’s supposed to be putting his hand on your back, and leaning in to ask if you’d like another drink—

Not Carlos.

Definitely not Carlos.

(Well, at least it’s not Charles).

Instead, Max is standing next to an overeager Lando at the DJ deck, gripping his drink so hard that he’s mildly concerned the glass will shatter to pieces in his hand. Actually, that’s not such a bad idea to get your attention. Maybe if that happens you’ll stop looking at Carlos Sainz Jr with big googly eyes and you’ll come nurse his hand or whatever it is you’re supposed to do in pathetic little fantasies like the one he’s entertaining. You’re not really the nursing type though, you’re more prone to start freaking out and calling everyone on the Red Bull team to tell them that Max has irreparably damaged his hand.

Max stops entertaining that particular fantasy.

Daniel’s not here, he’s gone home to Australia for a few weeks and skipped out on this weird little grid (+ friends) party that Charles is throwing. This is good and this is bad for Max. On one hand Daniel is not here to rib him about his half-admitted crush on you, on the other hand Daniel is not here to distract him from his half-admitted crush on you. There’s Lando of course, who can be just as good in the distraction department, but it’s not quite the same.

Lando doesn’t quite know about the raging crush, which is probably for the better. He’s been around when Lando’s tried to set up Oscar before and that was an absolute unmitigated disaster.

“Hey man,” speaking of Oscar, “You good?”

Max frowns and then half turns to look at Oscar who’s now hovering next to Lando with a fruity little drink in hand, “Yeah mate,” he answers, confused.

Oscar gets this weird little micro expression on his face that Max wouldn’t usually take any note of— his forehead creases, he raises a disbelieving eyebrow— but the skepticism grates at Max a little, leaves him wondering.

“Why?”, he caves.

Oscar shakes his head, shrugs, “You're kind of staring down Carlos."

Max's mouth falls open, just a little. He is not. His eyes flit to Lando unconsciously for confirmation before he has a chance to defend himself against what are frankly untrue allegations from Oscar. But Lando is already shrugging, making a face that says he has been.

Fuck. Max frowns. And doesn't say anything.

Better to stay quiet and look moody than to admit anything to these two. Total menaces. Well, no that's Lando. Oscar might be helpful. Still, Max isn't going to admit anything. Daniel and apparently Charles knowing about it is more than enough.

Their hushed conversation behind him fades into the background as Max turns again to look at you and Carlos— and alright he gets it now. There's definitely a different kind of set to his jaw, a scowl on his lips as he watches Carlos put his hand on your shoulder.

There is something in his gut. Something sick. The feeling he gets when he's on track and the car starts sliding, the wheels locking up. When hears the va-rum of a car go by, sees something that isn't wide open space in front of him. Something like panic starts to climb up his throat. He knows he shouldn't be this bothered by you and another person, but he can't get rid of this voice in the back of his head that says you might like Carlos more than him. That you might stop hanging around Max, texting him at all hours of the day with photos of your food or random questions, waiting for him in the garage after sessions and not just because you've got to take pictures of him, and going out for food on 'friend dates' as you've taken to calling them.

If you and Carlos... okay no, Max doesn't even want to think about it.

He starts walking over, trying to smooth his face into something less intimidating as he goes. He turns it into a strained, mouth-closed smile that doesn't reach his eyes. He directs it at Carlos.

There's a glint in Carlos' eyes that Max doesn't like the look of.

"Hi Max," he says, flashing his white teeth, he gestures to you, "I was just getting to know your lovely friend here."

Alright. Max understands instantly. This has Daniel's name written all fucking over it. Max's fake smile falls, turning into a flat look that he levels at Carlos. He's trying not to scowl because he doesn't want you to catch on to anything, but it's not easy. His phone is burning a hole in his pocket, he doesn't care if it's the middle of the night in Australia right now, he's itching to call Danny and ask him what the fuck he is thinking pulling something like this from 14,000 kilometers away?

"Mm," Max hums, unimpressed, unable to fake pleasantries even for your sake, "Great."

You look at him, eyebrows raised a little incredulously at his tone. There's slight amusement there too, he thinks, as he returns your look. You squint a little, as if to say, don't give me that look, Max Verstappen. He can feel himself smiling, the corner of his mouth lifting with ease even though the object of his anger still has his stupid hand on your shoulder.

He can't help himself when he reaches for your elbow, asks, "D'you wanna get a drink?"

You bite down on the edge of your smile, "Sure, Maxie."

You turn and say something to Carlos that he doesn't listen to. Partly because he doesn't care, partly because the sound of you saying Maxie is playing on a loop in his head, like it always does whenever you use the nickname. Which is more often than not. God, he loves it. Maxie Maxie Maxie. It sounds so syrupy sweet coming from your mouth. Smothered in affection. You're the only person, bar his mum and sister that he lets use it. Daniel sometimes, but Daniel would say it regardless, the menace that he is.

"Max," you say, hand on his bicep, thumb smoothing back and forth there, "Where'd you go?"

Max blinks. Carlos is gone now.

"Hm, no, nowhere," you frown, so he says, "Just a bit tired."

This seems to satisfy you. You slip an arm into the crook of his, linking them together as you tug him to the bar. You order him a G&T and yourself a glass of wine before the two of you head out onto the balcony where it's far quieter. Less people, less chatter. Max prefers it like this, with no one there to get in the way of your attention on him, his on you. He thinks you prefer it too.

He hopes you do at least.

You sip your wine, Max’s eyes linger on the line of your neck, the way your fingers curl around the glass, how your eyes glitter in the early afternoon sun.

“What was that earlier?”, you gesture inside, raising your eyebrows again, “With Carlos?”

Max laughs nervously without meaning to, “Uh, what do you mean?”

The ‘something sick’ is back in his gut again. He hopes you buy his nonchalance, but doesn’t feel confident you will. You know him too well. That’s his fault.

You sigh, “I mean the dick measuring contest, Maxie.”

Maxie. Maxie.

Then he finally registers your words around the loop of your voice in his head, he guffaws, almost choking on his drink, “The dick measuring contest!?”

“Yes,” you hiss, leaning forward on your stool, “Yes, Max. I’m not an idiot, you were getting territorial.”

Max blinks. Max feels red creeping up his neck. Max feels butterflies and maybe a chainsaw in his stomach.

“Wha—”, he tries again, “I—”

His mouth doesn’t appear to be working. Maybe because he’s not sure what on earth he’s supposed to say. What do you even mean? Are you trying to say that you know he was jealous of Carlos? That you know he has feelings for you? Or are you just referencing the fact that he’s weirdly territorial of his friends sometimes? What is he supposed to say in response to any of it? He can’t figure it out for the life of him.

Then you’re blushing you’re blushing and you’re saying, “You don’t have to worry, Max. You’re my favourite person here.”

Okay, alright, what the fuck does that mean? God. Max hates this. If you were any other girl he’d have asked you out literally years ago. But because you’re you and you’re his best friend besides Daniel, he can’t ask you out. He has to smother his feelings into something platonic because he cannot bear the idea of losing you.

Despite his better judgment telling him not to, Max asks, “Really?”

You hum, “Really, really.”

It happens in slow motion, it must. Or at least that’s how Max replays it in his head every night before he goes to sleep. You reach forward and put your hand over his, fingers on his wrist, thumb drawing a pattern on his upturned palm.

Then you say, in a way that he can’t figure out for the life of him, “Love you, Maxie.”

Chills run down the length of his spine, that chainsaw starts up again in his stomach. Love you, Maxie. He feels sick— like he might word vomit the entirety of his feelings for you right there and then. Instead, he forces himself to smile. Closed-mouth, eyes crinkled.

“Mm, yeah, love you,” he says back, his voice cracking as he tries to make it sound normal and platonic and not wracked with nerves.

You smile, warm, beaming and showing your teeth, like he’s made your day infinitely better by just saying those words. As if you’ve not just made his stomach churn and his heart take leaps and bounds in his chest. As if he’s not going to think about the way you’d said it every second of every day. As if he won’t dream of you saying it in every other context imaginable.

You pat his hand twice, then pull it back to take hold of your drink again. Smiling as if you’ve not ruined him for anyone else for good.

#max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #oneshots:mv33 #rb photographer!reader

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writingmeraki · 1 year

Text

i heart u !

a min ho drabble !

genre : fluff. ( disgustingly cute )

pairing : minho x gn!reader, established relationship.

warnings : none except Minho is a menace but he's your menace :D ( not edited or proofread. )

author's note : this was a pretty random idea I got 😭 but also a little gift as a celebration to xo kitty getting a season 2 !!!! 🥳 ( praying for more minho screen time but also dae my boy deserving better :( confused on yuri & kitty endgame 🤞or minho & kitty ) anyways enjoy this minho brainrot i offer u and let me know what you think !!! let's also ignore the quality of the minho pics thanks xx also this is my third time trying to upload this i will cri if this doesn't upload now

word count : 1.1k

It'd been exactly two hours, twenty seven minutes and four seconds, five seconds, six seconds…

"You know I can feel your eyes burning into my face."

Putting down your biology textbook aside for a minute before you turned to face the one who’d been looking at you as though you’d disappear at any given moment.

Minho stared at you, now narrowing his eyes as he scoffed lightly,

"I'm not staring."

You deadpanned him as you raised an eyebrow.

"Okay then, do what you called me here to do. Study."

You nonchalantly said, ignoring the slight pout forming on your boyfriend's face because today you definitely didn't need to waste any time.

"Oh come onnnn it's been almost 3 hours!"

He said in a whiny tone that even if you didn't want to, made you bite your inner cheek to prevent yourself from grinning.

You wouldn't think he would complain about not getting attention because he didn't ever have to actually. If he wanted it, he'd get it unasked, be it from your friends or you.

But lately, both Q and Dae had been busy with their own studies, hence that also meant spending less time with their other best friend.

And as for you, you weren't one to deny your oh so lovely boyfriend of attention, in fact you'd welcome him with open arms when he would suddenly hug you tightly or when he'd kiss you at any given moment.

Unfortunately for him, you'd also been busy with your own studies, having to work a bit harder since you struggled in a few subjects.

Still, you paid no mind as you continued to read over the text about chromosomal disorders even if you could see from the corner of your eye that Minho had moved closer to you.

You had both decided to study together, having done your studying alone in your dorm but on his insistence to study together, you agreed to come over to his place, currently sitting at his desk with all your necessary items laid out.

"Why do you even need to continue studying when you have the most handsome, amazing, fantastic and bloody hot guy right by your side?"

Snorting at him, you turned your gaze to look at him from the corner of your eye,

"Please, I'd never say bloody hot, that is such a…British thing to say."

"So you do admit everything else is right?"

He smugly said as he smirked at you.

"I don't have time to feed your ego, I'm busy."

Sighing, you turned away from him as you now moved your chair to have your back facing him.

If you could have been able to see his expression, you'd probably have laughed because he just puffed and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. He felt even more frustrated because frankly he was tired of studying now.

Suddenly he got an idea that he knew would make you give in to him and as much as he found your current ignorance appealing, he'd never admit that to you, he wanted your attention then and there, and with him.

Scribbling on a piece of paper, a cheesy equation he'd found on instagram while scrolling on his explore page, yet he knew you'd find it adorable.

9x - 7i > 3 ( 3x - 7u )

9x - 7i > 9x - 21u

-7i > - 21u

i <3 u.

Lastly, finishing it off by drawing a small heart and adding a " ;) " at the end.

He folded the paper and quietly moved behind you, putting his hand above your head and slipping the note on the page you were reading.

Your gaze shifted to the sudden movement, curiously eyeing the note that was laid in front of you.

Putting your book on your lap, you opened the note with a little suspicion, Minho's face having a small grin upon successfully diverting your attention.

The second you opened the note, you read over the contents still keeping a straight face up until you saw the small "i <3 u” with a little winky face.

Snorting at the cheesiness of the note with an equation you were pretty sure you’d seen saved one of your plenty Pinterest boards,

“Love, we don’t even have a maths exam next, we have biology.”

Turning your chair you faced him, you bit your lower lip to prevent the grin from showing on your face.

It was Minho’s turn to now deadpan you,

“Even after I wrote such a…such a meaningful message portraying my true feelings, yet you’re still worried about studying when it’s almost been three hours already and you’re not even paying attention to me or what I want to say.”

“Babe I’m pretty sure I already saw this on Pinterest...and not to mention this is just 8th grade algebra.”

He glared at your words after his overdramatic speech to which you couldn’t help but burst out in giggles, he seemed like an angry little puppy when he glared at you like that.

“Okay okay fine, what do you want to do? I should take a study break anyways”

You asked putting aside the book, making sure to carefully place the note between the pages acting as a bookmark you’d always cherish.

With those words, it was as if a switch was flipped on his attitude and his eyes lit up as he grinned,excited to finally have your attention.

“So what I'm saying is we should…”

[ A few hours later, still, your “fifteen-minute break from studying suddenly extended to hours, as usual. ]

Laying on Minho’s bed, you’d both finished watching the final episode of a show that you binged on together, the laptop going into sleep mode since having been ditched after a while.

Minho laid down with his head in your lap, you sitting upright as you caressed his hair, something you loved to do and well who was Minho do deny his lover's affection when he admittedly loved it just as much, maybe even more.

"You know, I know I say you should be lucky to have me but honestly I got lucky having you."

He said randomly while looking at you, a gentle smile on his face and gaze shining with sincerity.

Even if it was quite a simple sentence, your heart still fluttered at the sincere tone and you too now had a small grin forming.

You hummed, now smiling at him, nodding as you pushed your fingers through his hair strands, gently patting them down as well.

"I meant it though. What I wrote in that…note." He said grinning up at you.

"Though I'm sad you didn't take me seriously at first." He slightly pouted to which you giggled at how offended his tone was.

"That's because you're an absolute idiot." You told biting your lip and just as he was about to protest, you leaned down and pecked his lips to shut him up, smiling at the way he complied so easily to you.

Moving back a bit, you whispered so tenderly as if the words should only be between you two.

"But you're still my idiot and I love you too."

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

links : main navi !

#xo kitty #xo kitty fanfic #xo kitty min ho #xo kitty minho #min ho x reader #min ho fluff #min ho drabbles #xo kitty min ho x reader #x female reader #x male reader #x gender neutral reader #to all the boys ive loved before #to all the boys trilogy #netflix #netflix x reader #xo kitty season 2 #lee sang heon #sang heon lee #[ pri works ]

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yayll · 1 month

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Could you maybe write smth up. About literally spoiling Dazai. Because i want to sit him down on the couch and kiss his pretty fucking face and buy him everything he even glances at.!! Hold his hand on walks, take him to like roooftops to stargaze and stuff and just stare at his PRETTY AHH FACE instead. Kiss his forehead goodnight!!! Cook him stuff and cuddle him and kiss him (again)!!!!....

Im lonely and past the point of no return sorry shdkhdkfjf

HIIII there, angel! i'm so sorry this took me a bit, but umm... i kind of went insane with this concept i read your ask and i immediately just blacked out because oh do i feel the same way about this god forsaken man.. and HEAVY on the spoiling. ahh, i hope it's to your liking, and i hope it makes u feel less lonely :') it was such a pleasure to write my first request xx

~ a little something about cherishing Dazai on days he needs it the most ~

Spoiling Dazai. Now there's something you can proudly admit to being happily guilty of. You couldn't count the times you've held him for hours after a terrible day at work, or made sure he had more than just canned crab and a few bottles of Sake. You'd do anything for him to be comfortable in his own skin, and you want to make sure he knows how much you adore him... that he knows he's allowed to take up space in the world too. You're also aware that he would rather die than to ever elaborate on the vague and dismissive little comments he makes about the debilitating weight of all of his past mistakes, the ones that make him resentful and tired when it really gets to him, but that never deters you.

You've put the pieces together long enough to understand that it's not easy being Osamu Dazai, no matter what silly mask he puts on for the world. He hasn't always been a good person, an exemplary man, and you're more than well aware of that. Still, he doesn't have to be the jester who's always entertaining the masses at his own expense.

You remind him that he isn't cursed forever, that he IS worthy of flesh and blood, and when you kiss him it's like you're absolving him of all sins... you make him new again. He is utterly bewitched by you and you feel it in the way he comes up behind you and rests his chin on your shoulder, squeezing your waist just enough to let you know your warmth is the reason his own blood circulates. Or when he whispers the most silliest and unhinged things in your ear late at night so you'll curl up those precious lips into a smile... Just for him. He gets off on the happiness he gives you, simple as that. He already feels he doesn't deserve to hold on to such a good life, but he's nothing if not defiant, and he'll squeeze out every little bit of love within that void of a heart for as long as you'll have him.

But... Today is your turn to love him so much it actually hurts, It's what he gets for being a menace 24/7! That is why you chose to make sure he has an extra special day today, by bringing him out of his comfort zone with a... mystery date!

"Oh? And to what do I owe the pleasure of being courted by such a beautiful creature such as yourself on this fine day?"

Dazai sips on his tea, eyes narrowing as they peer at you from the teacup curiously. You flash him a cheeky grin, already plotting your mission to make him so flustered he can't even look at you later.

"I thought we could go out somewhere and spend some time outside... Since we've both been so busy lately. Wouldn't that be nice?"

He raises a brow, and gives you a knowing smile back. Dazai's freakishly omnipotent in that way, and it's one of the many reasons you can never truly know if your surprises land or not.

"Mmm, it could be. Where to, my love?"

"... It's a secret."

He then pretends something has hit his chest, and he grips it, dramatically throwing himself back onto the chair causing his tea to flop about in the teacup.

"Oh my, is today the day you finally take me out and end it all?! I don't know if I can take the deceit, the absolute betrayal... What an occasion-"

You cut him off with your index finger as you place it right on his lips, zipped tight and his eyes burn into you, waiting for your next words. He eats this shit up.

"Shush! Let's go."

And with that, you grab your coats and zoom out and into the day. It's one of those days where It's cloudy, but the sun still peaks out just enough to send down warm rays of light. As you walk hand in hand, you see the way those very rays hit Dazai's side profile in the most devastating way.

You want to take a photo but you don't want to ruin the moment, so you quickly tip toe and peck him on the cheek, causing him to abruptly stop in his tracks. He blinks for a few seconds, still facing forward, and you swear you can see the highs of his cheeks turn red. You end up tugging him to follow you to the park, smiling to yourself in triumph as he recovers.

You walk to a quiet part, and plop yourselves down next to each other on the soft grass. Still holding hands, you rub your thumb in circles over his bandaged fingers, silently looking up at the cloudy sky. Finally, Dazai is the one to break the silence.

"Love used to always be an empty four letter word to me, but you..."

He pauses for a moment, swallowing hard as he tries to feign composure.

"... You are, by far, my greatest love, and my most beloved weakness altogether."

You were supposed to be the one to sweep him off his feet today, now your vision is blurry and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. You slowly sit up, and look down at him, noticing that his eyes are closed. He looks like a sleeping beauty. Your chest aches, and you wonder if this is the same type of ache he lives with on the daily. You murmur, studying the way his messy bangs frame his face, and his expression unreadable.

"That's not fair, Osamu..."

"You sound so pretty when you say it like that... Osamu."

You swallow hard, and curse him in your mind for being the man that he is. For being all you've ever yearned for. You look down at your watch, and check the time, heart beating wildly.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

"... It's fifteen till 5."

"Mm, why does that matter?" Dazai purrs as he squeezes your hand, eyes still closed.

"It always matters. Any time with you matters. You matter, Osamu."

You spend the rest of the evening nuzzled into one another, whispering secrets and trying to name constellations and giggling when you can't figure them out. He lets you kiss him silly, his eyes closed the entire time while you also toy with his hair and the nape of his neck; where you smooth over the soft fabric of his bandages and his skin, giving him goosebumps. Your touch is a sensory heaven. He's dreaming of you while awake. You'll always wake him up from the nightmares, from what cannot be undone.

When it gets too cold to stay out, you head back home and cook him whatever he asks for as he rests his chin on his palm, gazing at you with those unreadable dark eyes... always thinking too much. Always somewhere else. This time, however, you could tell he was present. He would eat sewage if you poured it for him with that loving manner of yours. You finally crawl into bed together, and Dazai cradles your face in between his hands, facing you. He mumbles, so soft.. so tender. It's a tone only you get to hear.

"It really is selfish of me to think I can have this and more."

"Desire isn't bad, Osamu."

"Mm, no, I suppose not. But it's not always wise to have desire, not for someone like me. I can't afford that."

You hear the genuine ache in his voice, and you lean in to kiss his forehead, a gentle kiss that stays planted for a few seconds before you pull back.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing, love?~" He whispers, his voice a little strained as he looks at you with those eyes, those beautiful and endless orbs of cosmic proportions that are going to consume you one day. Hopefully.

"I think so. I'm being selfish."

You smile faintly, and you proceed to make sure that you end the night the way he deserves, the way you wanted to spoil him.

#just shoot me #it's so over for me and the starved for affection folks out here #dazai unable to handle ur love and the intensity of it even when it's just simple gestures of love makes me bang my head against a wat #he overthinks it and then just feels undeserving but actually HES WRONG #thank u for giving me a reason to be crazy once again :')#anybody just wanna uhhh let this man consume u completely #a lil sprinkle of angst for good luck...........#bungou stray dogs #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #dazai x you #osamu dazai #osamu dazai x reader #bsd x reader #fanfic #dazai fluff #request #dazai imagines

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taurder · 1 year

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hii its the noir requester once again 😭 i literally cannot stop reading the most recent one and i need MORE!!!!! can i get noir being a brat with humiliation? maybe hes being snarky and the reader has to put him in his place or smthn 👯‍♂️ thank u sm xx

(by the way, could i be 🕷️ anon? i think it fits pretty well)

top!dom!reader x brat!sub!spider-noir

contains: brat taming, humiliation kink, sub/dom, anal sex, begging, spanking, established relationship, implied vigilante reader.

note: there you go, and you're officially an emoji anon now! enjoy and check if you haven't a shorter thing i wrote about noir here. thanks for the request, keep coming with more, x

"i'm still mad at you" said peter in-between the intense kiss you both were sharing. just a couple minutes ago you were having a heated argument about the last mission you went together, where you made the call to not barge in inside a building without gathering first more information. still, peter got mad even if he followed your lead, and after some yelling and blaming one another now here you were, kissing passionately leaning against the entrance door.

"i feel like you keep forgetting..." even if he was the one who started the kiss after throwing away his mask it seemed that peter still wanted to give you a piece of his mind. "...my enhanced senses, i could've known if we were walking into a– mmghh!" you grabbed his crotch while leaning to steal another kiss, loving the way his body tensed up for the sudden movement.

"i haven't forgot how sensitive you are" you said back, hearing him huff in annoyance for the way you phrased that. he didn't push your hand away, instead rotating his hips towards your touch, trying to keep a serious face. "you have to decide if you want me to touch you more or you want to keep arguing with me" you locked eyes with him, even if he didn't stopped his subtle movements. he wanted to keep yelling, he was always direct on pointing out what he thought was a wrong move.

you pushed your hand more into his covered member, feeling the outline of his cock half way into growing hard. he bite down his tongue to avoid making any sounds. "you need to tell me, noir. i don't want you blaming me for another decision i make, so you take this one" he was irritated, and probably he would've tell you about how you were exaggerating but you have been hearing him nagging all the way home now. yelling, remind you of his powers and being sarcastic with your logic.

you squeezed his crotch, making his eyes flutter and his pissy expression melt for a second before you completely let go of him, putting your hand in his hip, pushing him into the door so he couldn't move more. "well?" you asked expectantly, and he had the nerve to roll his eyes before answering. "keeptouchingme" he mumbled low. he could be argumentative, but he also was a horny bastard who loved being roughen up when you were mad. you pushed more "i didn't hear you, peter, speak up"

"you heard me" horny sometimes didn't crossed out the possibility of having to hear his snarky remarks or bitchy attitude. well, he could be treated just like that. with a smooth move you turned his whole body, now pressing his chest against the door.

he was too clothed for your licking, he had only take off his trenchcoat when you arrived. you leaned towards him, getting your hands around his body so you could undo his belt, hearing him groan a little. he didn't tried to turn or move away though, and it had everything to do with his now noticeable boner. his belt fell on the floor just before you lowered his dress pants leaving them at knee height. he moved slightly and made an attempt to also undo the buttons in his vest but you pushed him forward. no. was all you said, taking both his hands and pinning them against the door.

you didn't have to tell him to keep them there, he just do it by himself after you let go. he groaned again, so you spanked his left cheek, hard. "fuck! maybe warn me next– goddamn" a second and third spank followed right after, and you loved how his ass moved just as his legs tensed up. "if i don't hear you asking for me to stop and fuck you i won't" was your only warning before spanking him again, making his glutes get hot and his dick rock hard. he even put his chest right into the door to push his ass out more after the tenth contact of your hand against his skin.

"look at you, all hard just by this. not even fully naked" he moaned, low and raspy, you were sure he was stopping himself from talking just to piss you off more. the next spank was harder, and you left your hand there, grabbing at the skin and making him yelp. "i could be fucking you half an hour ago, make this fine ass bounce in my dick" he squirmed, pushing his butt closer to you to tease you.

"nah-ah, you heard me. be the loud needy slut you always are and ask for it" you pinched his right cheek just before walking away. you went to the kitchen, still completely able to watch peter's figure and you took a glass and filled it with water, watching him hanging his head between his arms, cursing and mumbling between his teeth before talking loudly enough for you to hear. "please, come touch me" you kept drinking, and his body moved, his forehead now pressed against the door, eyes closed. "please, please, i need you to fuck me".

"finger yourself, for being a brat" you said back and he cursed out again. he only took you seriously when he heard the water on the sink running, you had started washing the dishes. you saw as he exhaled, taking one hand off the door just to guide it to his mouth, biting into his glove to take it off and throw it, covering then his own fingers in as much saliva as he could before putting two inside his hole. you two had a quick session just in the morning, and as you watch him slide a third finger sooner than expected you remembered cumming inside him. was he still wet even if he hadn't put anything more inside?

"please, please, please" he started begging after more minutes, his dick leaking uncontrollably, already making a puddle of semen on the floor. your own cock was hard with the vision, seeing him rock his own body against his three fingers, pants trapped in his legs and fully clothed on top. "you think our neighbors can hear you?" you put the last plate in the dish rack, walking to him, watching him improve his posture for you, raising his ass, showing you how deep his digits were going. "no, i think i'm the only one who knows you like this, right?"

you patted his hip and he stopped fingering his hole, instead pressing his palm again into the door. "yes, yes, fuck me now, i'm good" you took your cock out, barely pushing your pants and underwear down. "good? no love, you've been rude" you spat into his hole, making him squirm again. another two spanks for good measure and just before he was about to complain you sank your length right in.

he moaned, not caring if the thrust made his face crush into the door. he braced himself, both hands leaving nail marks into the wood when you slide out. "but if you milk me good enough i can forgive that, deal?" his confirmation was cut through another moan when you started to really pound into him. spitting more, making sure there wasn't so much friction as you fucked his needy hole.

he found his voice again when any memory of the argument before left his mind and all that was important now was to get your seed inside. he bounced his ass, making the sound of skin against skin be just as filthy as his whimpers. he called your name again and again, making sure you knew now how much he wanted this. how he enjoyed being filled by your cock. and you give it to him just as he asked, being kind enough to aim right into his prostate, to feel in return how his walls tightened.

both couldn't have lasted longer than you did, and it was almost at the same time that he splurt his semen in the door that you fill him with yours. still grabbing at his hips and sliding in and out off him, slowly riding your orgasm. he moaned more after finishing, whinning when you turn him around once more and gently pushed him to stand at the door to kiss him again. the cleaning would come later, of course. "you still mad?" he huffed again, this time a smile creeping in his mouth. "if i say yes we're going another round?" needless to said the argument die right there.

#taur's answered #top male reader #top reader x character #gn reader #sub character #atsv x you #spider noir #spider noir x male reader #spider noir x reader #spider noir x gn reader #sub spider noir #top gn reader #spiderverse x reader #🕷️ anon

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god-has-entered-my-body · 5 months

Note

Lena!! ❤️❤️❤️

I finally thought of a request for my fav MPIND Matty 🤭

Maybe something with girlie using a toy on him? Maybe a vibrator? Overstimulation perhaps?

-Sugar-coat-it <3 <3 <3

@sugar-coat-it This was supposed to just be a short blurb but i got way too carried away xx. hope u like it!!

Rush! - Matty Healy

A/N: This was so fun to write!! MPIND Matty lives in a special corner of my heart i think i might never stop writing for him. @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff tysm for being my (half decent) beta reader and making sure this isn't totally shit. Enjoy!! (edit: this is non-canon, so it doesnt have anything to do with the plot of MPIND or its sequel, Before you go)

wc: 9k

content warnings: filthy, semi public?, but also not really, overstimulation, teasing, begging, dom! reader, most of the time, matty is a cocky piece of shite but we love him, grinding, bondage, marking, use of sex toys, specifically a vibrator, what else hmmm, both of them are high, so dubcon?, still in their right mind though, wow the content warnings are long

Everything reeked of cigarette smoke and cheap liquor, hints of Jimmy Choo’s ‘illicit’ lingering in the air around Matty. You scrunched up your nose at the scent, Matty obviously having doused himself in it while you were in the bathroom, straightening your hair. Soft music played in the background, Matty using his turn on the Ipod to put on some ambient stuff George had made (yup, George was a music producer now for some reason? Quarter life crisis vibes.)

Adam was on his way, his little red Kia primed and ready for a good smoke sesh in some parking lot somewhere. It was nearly winter, which meant going outside was hardly an option considering neither you or Matty actually owned anything resembling warm clothing.

“I'm not letting you wear my coat again. Remember what happened last time?” he says when he sees your ‘finished’ outfit; a pair of jeans and a sage green long sleeve top, adorned with white and beige rhinestones. How dare he even mention that day, the state you entered the house was completely his fault.

“That only happened because you booked it down the fucking street and left me there!” It was true. The two of you had been sharing his massive coat, both of your bodies easily fitting into it, up until he decided the last four blocks home were to be a sprint, and took his jacket with him.

“Touché.” he grins as you shake your head at him. Fuck him, honestly. You tell him as much, his only reaction being a simple shrug of his shoulders, and his attention was back on his reflection in the mirror, carefully applying glittery purple liner to his eyelids, giving him a sort of emo-fairy look. Ross’d take the piss out of both of you, all dressed up to go smoke in a car on a wednesday evening, but you knew Matty already had some sort of comeback prepared, about how at least he groomed himself, and wasn't desperate to be a ‘proper’ lad (cue Ross chucking the nearest object he could pick up in Matty’s direction).

Impatient as ever, you sigh loudly, trying to get Matty to stop hogging the shared vanity. You could always just go back into the bathroom, but his lightbulb was truly shit, and besides, most of the stuff he was using was yours anyway.

Finally, you give up on trying to keep the piece, and promptly shove him off the chair

“Stop doing yourself up and move-” he doesn't budge, hanging on to the edge of the desk for dear life, refusing to let you finish getting ready.

“Violence is never the answer- Fuck off, christs sake, fine!” he whines like a child, getting up and throwing himself on the bed, and you cringe as it creaks loudly beneath him.

“You love it when I hurt you, shut up.” you tease, watching the look in his eye dramatically change. “Not like this!” he shoots back, flipping you off before grabbing his Ipod, switching to something more punk, heavy drums and guitar filling the space.

“Touché.” you repeat his own words back to him, and he rolls his eyes, sitting up. Taking the same brush, also using the same color, you frame your eyes with purple eyeshadow, trying your hand at a smokey eye. The two of you were matching more often than not, with Hann’s comments on it slowly getting on your nerves

“You both look the fucking same, its like you’re clones.” he’d overexaggerate, just to get a reaction out of a easily riled up Matty.

“D’you reckon Ross’ll have the good stuff this time? I can't deal with Hann’s bickering otherwise.”

You shrug your shoulders, looking at Matty from the corner of your eye. Maybe Adam’s comment rang somewhat true, seeing as Matty was wearing the exact same color scheme you were. Green Jersey top, definitely stolen from George, paired with blue, seventies style jeans, white and red trainers peeking out from beneath the too-long pants.

“I dunno, but we could go to the shop if it's shit, maybe get some wine?” you suggest. It was always 50/50 with Ross, and bad weed always fucked Matty off to no end, making him unbearable. Almost finished, you look around for your mascara, hands rifling through the piles of makeup littering the desk.

“Where’ve you put the mascara?” you ask, slowly getting annoyed.

“Left.” he answered curtly, engrossed in the newest edition of vogue. Sure enough there it was, bots of product caked around the cap. Coating your eyelashes with it, you hear Matty stand up and walk over to you. Setting spray topped off your look, and you run your fingers through your hair, smoothing it out.

Matty isn't particularly strong, but then again, neither are you, so the strong hand around your wrist was useless to fight against, and you let him pull you up. Face to face with Matty, you quirk an eyebrow at him. What was he playing at?

“You look absolutely gorgeous, darling.” you blush at the compliment, quietly telling him to fuck off, smiling as you see him grin at you. His brown eyes rake over your body, giving you a slow once-over, savoring the sight in front of him.

“Stop looking at me like that-” he cuts you off with a tug of your hair, smashing his lips against you. Surprised, it takes you a solid few seconds to properly kiss him back, utterly overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the kiss. His tongue immediately shoved past your lips, licking into your lips with fervor, drinking in every small gasp for air.

“Taste like sugar as well, so sweet.” He pulls you back in, deliberately not giving you an opportunity to answer. You feel his hands wander, trailing down your back and under your shirt, caressing your bare torso. His fingers toy at the band of your bra, teasing the clasps. Refusing to let you go, he presses your body flush against his, and you can sense every inch of him on your skin, like electricity, the smell of him travels up your spine, intoxicating.

The buzz of your phone snaps you back into reality. The guys, your plans. It takes every ounce of self control in your body to press your hand to his chest, effectively separating the two of you. Matty looks at you with a hurt expression, hands quick to cup your face, desperate to taste you again. Shaking your head, your voice is slightly as you tell him that the others are already outside.

“I haven't seen George in like three weeks. You're not the only person in the world, you know.” George was up to his eyeballs in Uni coursework (yes, Uni), and hasn't been able to hang out since forever, making you really miss him.

“I could make you feel like i'm the only person in the world, have all your attention on me.” he says with a wink, tracing your collarbones over your shirt. Matty was a hard person to say no to, with the way he peered down from above you, eyes wide, silently begging you to just stay.

“No.” you say firmly, grabbing your bag from the chair you were previously sitting on and slinging it over your shoulder. Instinctively, Matty takes it from you, holding it out of reach.

“Can't have you carrying your own bags, what would people think?” he teases, pushing past you and out the door, his footsteps heavy on the carpeted stairs. You follow him, heartbeat finally starting to slow. Already at the front door, Matty waits for you to tug your boots on, leaning against the coat rack as you did.

“What the fuck was that about, anyway?” The way he kissed you was passionate, hot, and definitely not something you just do on a whim. He tries to play innocent, raising his eyebrows and shrugging his shoulders.

“Nothing, just wanted a peck.” he answered, running his fingers through his slightly damp hair, still not fully dry from the shower he had taken a few hours prior. You scoff, looking at him in a ‘are you serious?’ type way.

“You fucking jumped on me, don’t be a such a dickhead.” you feel around for your cigarettes and light, smiling fondly as you realize it's the one Matty had gifted to you. “What was your end goal? You know we’re about to meet with the others!”

“I’m sorry for kissing my girl, jesus,” he exhales sharply, hand reaching for the doorknob, a loud honk sounding from the other side. Swinging the door open, Hann looks truly fucked off as the two of you walk down the driveway and climb into the car. Now usually, you would sit in the middle, between George and Matty, letting you comfortably lean forward to talk to Ross and Adam in the front, but it seems as though Matty had other plans.

Shoving past you, he settled into the middle seat, setting your bag on the floor next to your leather clad feet. George looks over, slightly confused at the new seating arrangement, but accepts it, going back to rolling the first spliff. The car starts, sputtering before actually turning on, Hann letting out a sigh of relief. There had been multiple occasions where his ‘precious baby’, as he called her, refused to start, leaving all of you stranded until Ross somehow managed to find the problem and fix it.

“See, this is what I mean,” Hann gestures to you and Matty, facing primarily Ross “They look like fucking clones of each other, its weird.” Matty reaches past the headrest and tries to smack him, causing the car to sway slightly as his hands leave the steering wheel.

“I’m trying to drive, fucks sake.” Hann mutters, pissed off now that Matty had almost made him crash the car. You set a firm hand on the dark haired boy's shoulder, lightly pulling him back into his seat. His legs are firmly pressed up against you now, and you feel a familiar tingling sensation blossom under your skin.

“Try to go steady, ‘m almost done.” George has this legendary talent of being able to roll the perfect spliff in even the most impractical situations, making him a god in Hann’s eyes. The car slows down slightly, and you see George lick the spliff closed, admiring his work. Matty immediately snatches it out of his hands, grinning from ear to ear as he sniffs at it, the smell filling his senses.

“God, you’re so fucking weird, mate.” Ross grimaces as he eyes Matty, watching him try to evenly light the spliff, failing miserably. Both you and Ross couldn't stand the earthy, stuffy smell of weed, constantly begging Hann to roll down the windows whenever someone decided to smoke in the car. Matty, however, had some sort of hash-fetish, and absolutely loved the smell of it, hotboxes being his favorite activity ever. He thought it heightened the experience, which was a load of shite, but he believed in nonetheless.

You were almost there, the Mcdonald’s parking lot being your end destination. Taking the scenic route, the five of you passed the spliff around, partially skipping Adam so as to not get him completely off his tits while he was driving. Matty agreed to rolling down the windows, seeing how nauseous Ross looked, with you not being far behind. Wind raked through your hair as you leaned your head onto the edge of the car.

Feeling at ease, peaceful and very, very high, you don't even notice Matty’s hand trailing up your thigh. He was just like that, touchy and overly affectionate with everyone, not just you, though, the type of affection did differ slightly. Scratching your skin lightly, you feel his fingers claw at the thin material of your jeans, grabbing hold of your panties through them. Your eyes snap up to meet his, and he pulls suddenly, letting go of the elastic. It hits your skin with a muffled smack, and you jump, noticing Ross’ eyes on you, peering over his shoulder.

Slightly disoriented, you don't even register Matty wrapping his fingers around the base of your neck, pulling you in for a hot, definitely too passionate kiss. Yelping in surprise, you sigh, almost inaudibly, into the kiss, letting him take control for a few seconds. George groans as he spots the two of you, dramatically shielding his eyes.

Realsing where you actually were, you pull away, shooting Matty a look that can only be described as ‘what the actual fuck was that?’. His skin is flushed, matching the color of his droopy eyes. Hann doesn't seem to have noticed Matty’s little PDA stunt in the back seat, blissfully unaware of the reason Ross was grimacing right now.

“I'd rather not see you snog, thanks.” Ross spits out, making a fake gagging motion as his eyes meet George’s, equally as unsettled as he was. Adam hadn’t seen the two of you, but the mental image was enough to make him join the other two in their disgust.

“What, you jealous mate? You can ask to join, it's no problem.” Ross laughs sarcastically, taking the spliff out of George's hands, taking a deep drag. He could sense Matty wasn't finished yet.

“You’d have to shave first, can't have you shedding all over my girl.” You still weren't used to him actually calling you that. It felt off, especially with your three other best mates staring at the two of you, silently wishing Matty would just shut the fuck up, for once. He was killing the soft, chilled out atmosphere with his incessant loud babbling, making George roll his eyes until you were sure they were going to get stuck there.

Ignoring the various groans of protest, he pulls you back in, basically climbing on top of you now. You giggle, partially because of the distinct floaty feeling clouding your mind, and partially because of Matty’s complete lack of shame, making him snog your face off just to rile up his mates, not really knowing how much it affected you. You pretend to be annoyed, shoving him off of you, wiping your mouth to really drive home the point.

“For the love of god, Matty, stop humping her, she's probably sick of you by now.” Hann says, making sympathetic eye contact with you in the mirror. He knew how you felt about the kissing in front of the rest of the group, not wanting to alienate them from you and Matty’s dynamic. The whole thing was a complicated mess.

His hand is still on your thigh as you squirm around a bit, you manage to gather your thoughts and speak for yourself.

“I quite am, fuck off, Matthew.” he tenses.

Now, to anyone else, you sound completely normal, if maybe a bit fucked off. Purposefully putting distance between you two, Ross reaches back and hands you the almost done spliff, and you inhale lightly, finishing it off. Matty is uncharacteristically quiet and you know he can feel your eyes on him. A warning.

He was prone to acting out like this, loud and obnoxious, almost bratty. To Ross, George, and Hann, this was normal, his fits a cry for attention, wanting all eyes on him, but to you, it meant so much more.

Stubbing out the joint, you throw it out the window, dangling your arm down the side of the car. George was calm, collected, and seemed to be enjoying life as Adam finally parked in your usual spot, turning the car off. Spreading your legs out more, you bump your thigh against Matty’s, making him twitch slightly, a soft smile spreading onto your face.

“Matty.” you say, his eyes darting up to meet yours.

“Mhm?” nudging him, you lift both your legs up and onto his lap, draping yourself over him. George is a bit startled, but guides you over his lap as well, letting your feet settle against the other side of the car, pressed up against the door.

“Fag?” George asks, holding out a pack of cigarettes in your direction. You happily take one, and so does Matty. Placing it between your lips, you watch George as he hands Matty his lighter after he lights his. His fingers fumble a bit, before finally flicking it on and inhaling the smoke, letting the nicotine mix with the weed, his face nothing but blissed out. It reminded you of what he looked like when he-

“Here.” he mumbles, holding the lighter in front of your face.

“Do it for me?” you ask sweetly, leaning your elbows against the back of your seat and the headrest of Hann’s, making yourself comfortable. His breath hitches as you shift, the bottom of your thigh pressing against his crotch. Two can play at that game.

The flame paints his face in an orange hue, and you feel the world close on around you. The way his delicate hand holds up the light to your cigarette makes your head spin, and not just from the weed. You feel George shift beneath you on the other side of the car, rifling through his pockets, pulling out a small baggie and rolling papers, getting to work rolling another spliff.

Hanns voice rings dully in your ears, asking George to hurry up a bit, saying he was nowhere near the level of high he wanted to be at right now.

“Let me do it, stop nagging.” George's movements are slower, his motor skills definitely more than just slightly inhibited.

“Good?” Matty asks, your attention turning back to him. His eyes are glazed over, red and half closed, and his hair falls over his face, indicating he’s long overdue for another haircut. Mattys hands settle on your knees, rubbing small circles over the bone, warmth blooming underneath your skin wherever he touches. You refused to let it show, opting to lean your head further out the window, admiring the stars glimmering above you, the cold of the night biting at your cheeks.

Matty can tell you’re cold by the way you shiver slightly, and he feels a bit bad, even if he did tell you to bring some sort of extra layer.

“I’m fucking freezing.” you state to the car, Ross turning around to face you, lowering his seat back a bit despite Georges protests.

“There's a blanket in the back, I think.” Hann nods in agreement, confirming his statement. Knowing you wouldn't be able to reach, Matty blindly feels around for it, fingers meeting a slightly scratchy, but still soft, knitted blanket.

Draping it over you, his hands linger on your waist, goosebumps forming on your skin as his nails graze your tattoo.

George is finally finished with the spliff, and hands it to Hann so he can light it. He greedily inhales, letting the feeling overtake him. A soft groan leaves his lips and you see the back of his head slouch against the headrest, lolling off to the side.

“This is some good shit, no wonder Matty’s so quiet.” Hann mumbles, half to himself.

“Told you, my guy’s the real deal.” Ross says with pride, like he’d grown it himself or something. Putting his feet up on the dashboard, he leans back, head craning to talk to Hann. Their conversation is quiet, meaningless, with Ross going on about his stupid bass instruments and chatting pure shit to a half dozed-off Adam.

George is in his own world, gazing out the window and off into the distance. He was tired, you can tell by the way the rings under his eyes were dark and prominent, evidence that he hadn't been sleeping much these days. Uni was truly kicking him in the arse.

A loud sigh from Matty makes you snap out of your thoughts, flexing your toes a bit, trying to stretch without bothering George too much. You feel a tap on your leg, telling you it's fine, and that you can move freely. George smiles at you from across the back seat, stoned out of his mind and looking like he was ready to pass out in the next five seconds.

“Y’alright?” you ask Matty, who keeps shifting around beneath you. One particular movement makes your legs spread, his big palms gripping the side of your left thigh, kneading the flesh.

His eyes flash up to yours, and the look he gives you is fucking delicious. Lips slightly parted, wet and swollen from his teeth gnawing at them for the past half hour, the sight makes your thighs clench, a cough escaping your lips.

The spliff makes its way to you, and you take a drag, your lips wrapping around it as you make direct eye contact with Matty. Your lipgloss rubs off on the filter, and you hand it to him with a smirk.

“I’m fucking knackered, I need to sleep.” George's deep voice cuts through the silence, and Hann nods in agreement.

“We’ve been here like an hour! We never hang out, let's stay for a bit.” Ross protests, sitting properly and trying to face everyone at the same time.

“Yeah, let's.” you side with him. Matty’s eyes widen at your statement, and he goes to speak. A sharp look makes him rethink his actions, and he slumps backwards into the leather, pouting at you. You grin at him playfully, seeing him start to do the same, before pressing your leg down, right onto his crotch. Underneath the blanket, not one could see what you were doing, giving you the perfect opportunity to fuck with Matty

“Fine, but I'm driving home in 20, whoever doesn't want to walk is coming with.” The tinge of annoyance in Hann’s voice is painfully obvious.

Time passes at a snail's pace as you continue your movements, thigh pressing down onto his steadily hardening cock ever so slightly, not wanting George to figure you out.

“D’you reckon Britney’s a good shag?” Ross asks, and you realize he’s holding a magazine, Britney Spears plastered onto the cover.

“Mate, maybe you shouldn’t-” George starts, but another voice cuts him off.

“Probably, I mean, just look at her.” it's Matty speaking, you realize.

His voice is drawn out and deep as he holds out his hand, silently requesting Ross to give him the paper. He’s taunting you, and fuck, is it getting to you. The way his eyes scan over the cover makes your blood boil, and you stare him down, warning him to stop.

“She’s fit.” He says, refusing to look at you as he takes a drag from the spliff, passing it on. His eyes finally dart over to yours, reading you like an open book. You were jealous, and he knew it. It was his goal, after all, to rile you up enough so you knew how he’d been feeling since that moment in your room.

“Hey Hann? I'm feeling a bit shit.” you lie through your teeth “Can we go?”. Ross tries to stop him, but with the vote being 4-1, he groans as the car sputters on, and Hann backs out of the lot.

You go to sit normally, putting as much distance between you and Matty as physically possible, not even looking in his general direction. Not really speaking to anyone, you listen to the soft sound of the radio, the music distracting you a bit. Matty’s eyes are glued to you, watching your every reaction, you can feel it. He silently begs you to stop being mean, ignoring him like this. You almost cave. Almost.

The drive feels longer than it actually is, George being dropped off at his house first. He waves goodbye through the window, which is the only reason you turned to the other side. Eyes avoiding the boy next to you, you blow George a kiss goodbye, hoping he gets some actual sleep tonight.

You and Matty were now both facing forward, chatting to Ross.

“Must be great, having an whole fucking house to yourself.” Ross grunts out, clearly still fucked off that you decided to leave so ‘early’.

“It is,” Matty answers, telling him how nice it was to live without his parents and with you, even if neither of you had the ability to prepare an edible meal, or clean the house every once in a while. You chuckle as his words, painfully true as you think back on the state you’d left your room in, clothes and books and various items strewn about the place.

Matty turns to you, your small giggles at his story making him think he was off the hook. You shoot him a look, and he immediately retreats, knowing it wouldn't be that easy. Not that he didn’t like a challenge, especially from you.

“Alright, you two.” Hann breathes as the car comes to a halt in front of the house. The soft rumble of the engine was deafening as you opened the door, climbing out of the vehicle. Matty followed quickly, almost banging his head against the roof, narrowly avoiding a small concussion. You tapped on the window, waving goodbye to both men in the car. Flashing a smile, you turn to Matty, grabbing his hand and leading him up the steps.

Inside the car, the conversation quickly shifted.

“What's going on with them? They’ve hardly spoken since he stopped trying to jump her bones in front of us.” Ross just shrugs, mind spinning different scenarios of what could've gone down.

“D’you think they’re fighting?” Hann nods, noting that you did look a bit pissed off towards the end.

“I dunno, it's weird though.. them being a thing.” Ross hums in agreement.

“Just leave them be, they’ll sort it out.”

The click of the door unlocking was as loud as a jet engine, and you push it open with your shoulder, Matty trailing closely behind you. You take your time, taking off your shoes, setting your bag down onto the floor next to the coat rack. He fidgets on the spot, not quite sure what to do next.

Without warning, you spin around, shoving him backwards into the door, both your hands on his shoulders. The tension is thick, his heavy breaths loud and desperate for you to fucking do something.

A beat passes between you before he finally speaks, stuttering over his words.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t h-have fucked you off, not infront of everyone.” you raise your eyebrows at him, a condescending smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“So you knew what you were doing then, trying to rile me up like that?” He nods, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows. He mutters out another “‘m sorry”, like it was going to save him at all.

Your hands trace his collarbones, just like he had not three hours prior, and you see his breath hitch when you dig your nails into his skin, leaving behind red indents.

“You wanna kiss me?” you ask, tucking his hair behind his ear sweetly, letting your fingers run over his jaw.

“Yes.” he gasps, your chest now fully pressed up against his, your bodies now flush. Mattys eyes are filled with desperation, lust, thoughts clouding his mind and the sight of you wasn't helping him think clearly.

“How badly do you want to kiss me?” he tries to speak, but you shush him. “How much do you want to touch me?”

A guttural groan leaves his lips, and his hands find your back, grabbing onto your waist for support. You look at him expectantly, tapping his face to get his attention back on you.

“Please, I'm sorry, just– fuckk, please darling.” His voice is small, soft, filled with want and desire. He pulls you in closer, and you feel him, fully hard, pressed up against your upper thigh. Your hand travels lower, pushing his shirt up as you go down, fingertips ghosting over his bulge, leaking and painfully hard.

“This all for me?” Matty looks like he’s going to combust, but still, he manages to force out a small, choked ‘yes’.

“You think you deserve it?” He freezes as you squeeze him through his jeans, feeling him twitch in your hand. A desperate whimper rips itself from his lips, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck, breathing shallowly.

“I’m sorry, just– please. I’ll do anything, just fucking touch me please, please, oh god–”

You mouth at the spot where his neck meets his jaw, sucking an aggressive hickey into the skin, simultaneously stroking him over his clothes. Trying to seem unaffected, you pull away from his cock, placing that hand over his chest, hearing him whine at the loss of contact.

“Upstairs. Wait for me.” Those four words manage to leave him absolutely breathless as he scrambles to tug his shoes off, throwing them into the corner. One last look is directed at you over his shoulder as he walks up the steps, almost tripping. Catching himself on the bannister, he disappears from view.

You use the moment to take several deep breaths, steading yourself. Matty might be the more expressive one, but he had this effect on you, even if he didn't know the full extent of it. Every reaction you elicited from him made your knees weak, your façade of control slipping slightly. Running your fingers through your hair, you glance at yourself in the hallway mirror, making sure you look good. Good enough to send Matty fucking spiraling.

The house is silent, apart from the odd creak of the floorboards underneath your feet. The door to your room crashes against the wall and you push it open, eyes immediately finding Matty.

Jesus christ.

Sprawled out on top of crumpled sheets, Matty’s eyes rake over your body, his cock visibly twitching in his pants at the sight of you. He had already taken off his shirt, the material bunched up next to him. The atmosphere in the room is heavy, thick with lust and desire and want and every other adjective that could be used to describe the fucking wet dream of a man currently sitting on your bed.

His hands trail up his chest, toying with his nipples as he bites his lip at you, a wild look in his eyes. Your feet take you to the foot of the bed, kneeling down onto it, not quite sure where to look. His skin is flushed a deep shade of red, the blush spreading from his face down his chest, which was rapidly moving up and down as you reached out to touch him.

“How do you feel?” your voice shakes, and you know he can tell. Does it actually matter to you at the moment? Absolutely not.

An indecipherable sigh leaves Mattys lips as he looks at you, curls sticking to his forehead and his cock rock hard against the fabric of his jeans.

“I feel–” he starts, words getting caught in his throat as you trace the inseam of his pants. You still, motioning for him to continue.

“I feel so good, please touch me, I need you so bad. So gorgeous like this, love you so much– jesus.”

You listen to his rambles as his eyes screw shut, everything being far too much for him. It's delicious, the way he squirms under even the slightest touch, involuntary noises spilling from his lips.

He trusted you, and you knew that well enough. Your entire relationship was built on a foundation of trust, a promise that you would never, ever, harm each other. Your hand reaches up to clasp his, squeezing gently. He smiles softly, wiping away the beads of sweat that had collected themselves on his forehead.

Your eyes glance over to the nightstand next to the bed, the wooden exterior a stark contrast to the otherwise black furniture of the room. The bed creaks as you get up, slowly pulling the drawer open. Matty watches you move, fluid and sure, as you take out a vibrator, you hear a small gasp escape him.

“You want me, Matthew? Want to be good for me?” you grin at him, throwing one of your legs over his lap, settling right below his hips. The way his cock is straining against the zipper of his jeans couldn't be comfortable in the slightest, but you let him suffer longer, relishing in the way he whined whenever you shifted on top of him, just like he did in the car.

“Will you let me use this on you?” That question is the final nail in the coffin, an animalistic groan ripping itself from the depths of Mattys throat as you palm him through his pants, beads of precum painting the front.

“Please,” his voice cracks slightly, eyes silently begging for some sort of relief.

“You know, you really shouldn’t have pulled that little stunt.” you speak, voice dripping with honey as you unbuckle his belt, the clanking metal making your heart speed up. Unable to speak, Mattys hands go to settle on your waist, gripping the fat of your hips.

“No.”

“W-what?”

His chest heaves as you grab hold of his wrists, pinning them up above his head. The belt he wore with his pants, while usually completely unnecessary, suddenly proved quite useful. Your hands fumble a bit as you bring the leather up, binding his hands to the metal bed frame. The arousal plastered on his face was impossible to hide as he gives the belt a tug, sucking in a deep breath of air when he realized what you’d just done.

“You’re so fucking– holy shit, you’re perfect.” his praises go straight to your core, and you grind down onto his thigh, feeling around for the vibrator that you’d placed somewhere next to you.

Towering over him, you observe.

It feels like you're daydreaming, the man in front of you just a figment of your dirty, vivid imagination. His skin glistened with sweat, and your eyes flicker down to the bulge in his black calvins. If there was a heaven, you’ve definitely reached it.

Running your fingers up and down the vibrator, you grin at him, watching his thoughts run wild, every possible fantasy playing out right in front of his eyes. Clicking the toy on, you rake your nails over his chest, the loud vibrations filling the room.

You had never done this before, but the utter look of devotion Matty gave you proved that he trusted you completely to do whatever you wanted to him. He follows your movements closely as you press the toy to the underside of his cock. Immediately, you see his eyes clamp shut, his hands instinctively pulling and fighting against the restraints.

“You like that, baby? Feel good?” you coo at him, taking in every single twitch of his body, savoring it. He frantically nods his head as you move his boxers, letting his cock slap up against his stomach. The feeling of the vibrator straight onto his weeping erection felt like pure heaven, desperate moans spilling from his lips, unable to control his own actions.

“F-feels so good, it’s so good, a-ah, fuck me–” he whimpers as you up the speed, your free hand cupping his face, smudging his eye makeup. Blissed out and shaking, Matty tries to hold off as long as possible, desperately wanting to be good for you.

“I can’t– I'm so close, please, let me cum.” his eyes search your expression, begging for permission. Pleasure trickles up your own spine as a sudden movement of Matty’s thigh beneath you makes you grind against him again, a soft moan leaving your parted lips. You swear you could cum just from the sight of him alone, twitching and begging and so, so close to the edge he could taste it on the tip of his tongue.

Shoving your fingers into his mouth, you watch as he chokes slightly, eyes welling up with tears. It's so unbelievably erotic, seeing him fall apart like this, all because of you. His dick twitches in the tell-tale way that lets you know he’s seconds away, just needing a little push. You lock your lips onto his neck, licking and sucking and biting marks into the skin, making him moan around your fingers. It's all too much for him, and his voice cracks once more before spilling into your hand, painting his stomach and the toy with ropes of thick cum, gasping and shuddering as you keep the vibrator against his cock, working him through his orgasm.

You finally kiss him, fingers weaving through his hair as you lick into his mouth, his arms still helplessly trying to pull free.

“That was– fuck– I can’t even describe it.'' His voice is raspy, sore. He looks utterly fucked out, a sly grin already adorning his face not ten seconds after you gave him the most mind blowing orgasm of his life.

“You dont think I'm done, do you? After the shit you pulled in that car?”

Your sudden change in tone makes Matty’s eyes widen, his hips bucking up against you. The evil look in your eye as you lean down to catch his lips in a kiss only makes him impossibly more turned on, fingers itching to touch you, a groan of frustration leaving his lips when he realizes he can't do anything but lay there and take what you give him. You move, one of your hands leaving his chest.

“What are you–?” The click of the toy is impossibly loud as a wanton moan rips itself from his throat, his hips twitching away, the sensation overwhelming and raw, almost too much. You grin from ear to ear as you study his reactions, writhing and pulling at the belt holding him in place, eyes silently begging you to just let him go.

“A-ah oh fuckk, no- I can’t–” he cries, arching his back, exposing his neck even more, adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he tries to swallow down his sounds

“You can, I know you can.” you lick across the expanse of his collarbones, teeth grazing the skin harshly, the slight pain only making Matty thrash more, the leather of the belt digging into his wrists.

“It’s too much– jesus christ-” he chokes out as you tangle a hand into his thick curls, tugging his head forward, making him look at you.

“Look how desperate you are, you sure it's too much?” you press a kiss to his lower stomach, his muscles tense under the skin.

“I need you so bad, fuck,” he sucks in a deep breath, making direct eye contact with you.

“Look at what you do to me.”

His sudden change in tone makes you take a second, truly taking in the sight before you. He smirks when he sees you staring, arching his lower back with the sole purpose of riling you up, knowing exactly how to get to you, and in turn, get what he wanted.

“Such a slut, fucking begging for attention, aren’t you?” he nods slowly, winking at you provocatively as his eyes follow your movements. The name made his breath hitch, and the return of the toy back on his hardening cock feels like pure ecstasy, moans and whimpers spilling from his lips as you continued speaking.

“Was it worth it?” he cocks his head at you, asking what you meant.

“Was it worth it, fucking around in the car, embarrassing me like that?”

“Absolutely, if it gets me this.” he purrs, trying to provoke you once again. You were going to make him eat his words if it was last fucking thing you were going to do.

“You have a lot of confidence for someone who was grinding against my leg under a blanket not even an hour ago.” A small laugh comes from Matty as he playfully tugs at the restraints, the sound morphing into a moan when you press the toy down harder, feeling him getting close again.

“Gonna cum again, make a filthy fucking mess of yourself?” Matty is so far gone, his cocky persona falling away in bits as he bucks his hips against the vibrator, chasing his high. You watch him, sweaty and out of breath, his hands straining against the leather, the mix of pain and pleasure making his head spin.

“I love you so much, please let me cum, please i’ll do anything, just let me cum–” there it is. Anything. He doesn't know the weight his words hold, willing to say everything and anything for you to let him fall over that delicious edge.

“Cum for me, let me see you.” your voice shakes, one hand planted firmly on his chest for balance, while the other holds the toy to his cock, twitching and leaking all over himself and you as he cums, screaming your name loud enough that it echoed through the whole house.

You watch as he shakes, gasping for air and writhing against the sheets, so overstimulated he could barely form a coherent thought.

“Again.” you whisper as Matty shakes his head violently, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Do you want to stop?” he shakes his head again, hips bucking up against the toy, desperate whines and groans filling the room. His chest heaves, lungs expanding as far as they could go to try and bring some oxygen to his brain. Breathless and exhausted, he looks at you, eyes wet and pleading, the mix of pain and pleasure driving him insane.

“Don’t s-stop.” he begs, voice sore and hoarse. Thoughts run widely through your mind, wondering how much more he could take before tapping out. “If you need to stop, tell me.” you say firmly, his frantic nods telling everything you needed to know. Clicking the toy back on, the reaction is immediate, visceral as he jerks under the warm feel of your lips on his jaw, pressing hot kisses down the skin, mouthing at his neck.

Pulling back, you admire the deep purple marks you left behind, tracing them with your free hand.

“You’re fucking glorious- I- I could look at you forever, so pretty on top of me, fuck, like a fucking wet dream, so perfect–” you listen to him babble through curses and moans, eyes drooping shut as he bucks up into your hand.

“Yeah? You’re so gorgeous for me, taking everything I give you.” you whisper back, pupils completely blown out with lust, the high you were still yet to come down from heightening every feeling, every sensation, until you were grinding against his thigh, desperate for him.

“I see you, baby,” your eyes snap up to his, a filthy smirk spread onto his face, “C’mon, use me like a toy, use me to get off.” his voice is sultry and low, working hard to bite back screams as you finally give in, sparks of electricity shooting up your spine as you increase the pressure on your clit, soft moans and gasps spilling from your lips as Matty tenses his thigh, lifting it slightly to meet your movements.

“Don’t cum until I tell you.” you warn, refusing to give up power, even if Matty made it incredibly fucking difficult to not give in. His eyeliner was smudged, tears streaming down his face, your fingers wiping them away sweetly. You bring your tear soaked hand to your mouth, licking it clean while making direct eye contact with Matty, the expression on his face making the salty taste on your tongue completely worth it.

It didn't take much to bring you to the edge, the warmth in your core blooming everywhere else in your body, your blood feeling hot as you balance yourself. Being met with Matty’s smirk as you look up, the smugness quickly morphs into white hot pleasure when your hand finds his nipple piercing, giving it a small tug.

You had convinced him to switch it out, the black metal ring being replaced with a purple barbell. It shimmered if you looked at it from a specific angle, a perfect contrast to his milky white skin, suiting him well. He gasps when you don't let up, tweaking the metal and rolling his nipple between your fingertips, an indescribable feeling radiating from his chest, making all the remaining blood in his brain rush down south.

You were so close, you could taste it. Matty knew this, doing his best to get you there, just as you were doing for him, holding off his own orgasm. Filthy words leave his mouth, making you feel dizzy with pleasure, the feeling of his jean clad thigh against your clit making your legs shake on top of him.

“So good, you’re so good– fucking marvelous, I could write a thousand songs about you like this.” he groans, eyes never leaving the spot where your core met his leg, watching closely.

“I’m so close, fuckk.” you whine, your high pitched voice like music to Matty’s ears, his cock visibly twitching against the toy.

“Cum for me darling, wanna see you fall apart on top of me.” he coos, and you feel your control slipping. It was all consuming, the pleasure making time slow as you barely manage to slow down to speak.

“You first.” A relieved sigh leaves Matty’s lips, hips bucking violently, precum bubbling from his tip, coating your hand where you held the toy against it. One last arch of his back and he cums onto his stomach, painting his skin white.

You groan at the sight, your own orgasm hitting you like a freight train, vision whiting out as you buck against Mattys thigh, his eyes burning a hole into your skin. He watches in awe as you gasp and stutter, the visual of his third climax too much for you to handle, carnal desire overtaking your body.

Collapsing on top of him, your chest heaves against his, everything blurry and disoriented. He tried to move his hands to your back to hug you, but realizes he’s still tied up, the leather really digging into his skin, leaving angry red marks.

“Darling?” you look up, apologizing profusely as you undo the belt around his wrists, kissing the burns it left behind. Matty chuckles quietly, running a soft hand through your hair, pressing your face into his chest.

“That was..” he starts, eyes still wide in disbelief.

“Okay?” you offer a hint of insecurity evident in the way you speak.

“Fucking amazing, visceral, undescribable, life chang-” you cut him off with a firm kiss, silently telling him to shut up. He giggles into the kiss, his other hand pressing against your lower back, pulling you impossibly close.

“It wasn’t too much?” you ask, gesturing to the marks on his wrists. He shakes his head, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He assures you it doesn't hurt at all, and besides, “You know I like it when you hurt me.” The cheesy wink that follows his statement makes you roll your eyes, leaning down to breathe in the scent of him. Fucking Jimmy Choo, ugh.

“You have to stop using my perfume, you smell like a woman, it's unsettling.” you complain, wishing he’d use some sort of musky cologne instead.

“I thought you liked it when i'm girly? Remember that time when I wore that skirt and you fucking mauled me–'' he tries to tease, being rudely interrupted by you digging the heel of your foot into his leg, making him yelp in pain.

“That was different,” you mutter, avoiding his taunting gaze.

“Was it?”

“Absolutely, yes, now come here.” you grip his jaw, crashing your mouth against his, biting his lower lip, enjoying the small gasp he lets out. The kiss is hot, filled with love and trust, your heart swelling up in your chest.

“Don’t ever pull that shit again, George could have noticed and that would've been a complete shit show-” you shudder at the thought of your mates knowing anything about your sex life, gagging inwardly.

“You were the one grinding your leg down on to my dick, don’t act all fucking innocent!” he protests, a playful tone to his voice.

“Imagine Ross knowing anything about what we do, he’d lose his mind.” you comment. Knowing him, he’d physically throw up and never speak to either of you ever again, the mental image having scarred him for life.

Matty is oddly silent, his hands fidgeting. Your eyes widen in realization

“Dont tell me you fucking– Matty!” you shut your eyes, embarrassment flooding your body.

“He’s my mate, and he asked. Who am I to deny him?” you hit his chest, propping yourself up as you laugh in disbelief.

“Ross asking doesn't make it any better!!” you screech, watching him pull back at the sheer volume of your voice “For fuck’s sake Matty, what did you even tell him? I’m never going to be able to look him in the eye again, fucking hell.”

“Just about the camera, nothing else, I swear!” you cup your face, letting out a frustrated groan.

“You know I can never speak to him ever again? The fucking camera, are you taking the absolute fucking piss?!” you throw curses at him as he giggles into your hair, muttering apologies and promising to never say anything again.

“‘M sorry darling, i won't give out the details of our sex life anymore.” he jokes, earning a choked giggle from you, unable to stay mad at him.

Looking up at him from your spot on his chest, anger fades as you take in his features. You could look at him forever if he let you, drinking in every inch of skin, committing it all to memory. Your fingertips touch the top of his cheeks, wiping away any left over make-up, smiling fondly as you do so.

Love. That's what you see in his eyes. Pure love, utter devotion. His breathing is slow, the soft sound of his heartbeat comforting as you lay back down onto him, nuzzling your face into his skin. You could stand the permeating stench of Jimmy Choo if it let you hold him this close to you.

“You’re mine.” he mumbles into your hair, stroking up and down your spine, pushing your shirt up.

“I’m yours,” you answer, this overwhelming feeling of adoration taking over your whole body. Matty was yours, and you were his, from the second he said the words ‘I love you’ that night on the terrace, overlooking the glowing city.

Life with him seems so real. Growing up properly, getting your own house, getting married. It was all possible, still, it felt far away, a distant future. You let your thoughts spin in your mind until the exhaustion won, your body going slack against Matty, soft snores filling the room.

Matty lays awake beneath you, the darkness of the room enveloping his senses.

“I love you so much,” he mutters under his breath, knowing you couldn't hear him anyway. That was the moment he knew, the moment everything solidified.

You were just kids, the pair of you, young and free, life filled with infinite possibilities. So much was uncertain, but he knew one thing without a doubt. Eyes flickering over to his coat, they fell on the outermost left pocket. It wasn't about the pocket itself, but what was inside. Dark red velvet, the same shade as your favorite color. A box.

A small one.

read part two here xx

#i had so much funnn #the 1975 #matty healy #ross macdonald #adam hann #george daniel #drive like i do #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty healy x you #matty healy fluff #the 1975 smut #matty healy x reader

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iamthemain-character · 1 year

Note

hi! I rlly loved ur recent Kaz Brekker fic n I was wondering if u could do one where the reader had an ED. Like how Kaz would react to it and what he would do to help?? I’m currently getting over an ED n need some comfort rn xx

Hi! Thank you so much for reading and for requesting! As someone who watched many loved ones go through recovery, let me just say how proud I am of you (and anyone reading this!) for trying. You’re amazing and doing great, I promise. <3

Not Giving Up

show! kaz brekker x reader

gender neutral pronouns

TW: eating disorder (following the symptoms and recovery for anorexia nerviosa), low self esteem, mentions of restrictive eating. nothing graphic, and there is comfort/healing in this fic, but please be careful when reading

shadow and bone masterlist

Kaz Brekker didn’t know how he never noticed it before.

When it came to you, he typically was so attentive, noticing even the smallest details. And he did technically notice all the symptoms; the way you were always cold, the way your wounds would take longer to heal, or how you would sleep too much or none at all. But it wasn’t until The Crows were gathered for brunch one Sunday morning that Kaz finally put all the pieces together.

It was a joyous occasion, and despite being some of the most secretive people in the Barrel, the seven of you made quite a ruckus. But it was joyful, everyone teasing and messing with each other. Weekly brunch was Nina’s idea, her having lamented that she never got to see everyone all together anymore. So everyone agreed that once a week, they would all get together, the true Crow Club.

And every week, you would join in on the fun, laughing and joking with everyone. But as Kaz watched you nonchalantly tell the waitress, “Oh, I’m not really hungry”, that something clicked in his brain.

As the gears in Kaz’s mind began to turn, he soon came to realize that you said that every week. And beyond that, Kaz couldn’t recall a time where you had eaten a full meal around him or any of The Crows. It was plausible that you ate alone or when Kaz wasn’t around, but when compared with some of your other behaviors and symptoms, Kaz was fairly sure of what was happening.

Not wanting to cause more distress, Kaz had the good sense enough to leave you be during the brunch. But the moment the both of you got back to the club, he uttered only three words as he walked pass.

“My office, now.”

Despite being close with Kaz, those words still brought a chill up your spine. Cautiously you followed your friend up the stairs and into his office, following his gesture to sit down. For a while, the two of you sat in silence, Kaz staring at you with his chin resting on his clasped gloved hands.

Finally, you couldn’t take it any longer. “Is there someth-“

“Do you have an eating disorder?”

You weren’t sure what you had expected Kaz to talk to you about, but it was certainly not that. Your jaw slack, you rapidly blinked, trying to collect your thoughts.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kaz’s eyes narrowed. “Do you have an eating disorder?”

You started breathing rapidly, wondering how this man had put the pieces together when you had been so careful to hide it. “I’m fine Kaz.”

“Why don’t you eat with us? Or ever?”

“I-I,” Your words failed you, your brain trying to find some way to combat Kaz’s questions. “Like I said, I’m totally fine. I’m just not hungry a lot.”

With a deep sigh, Kaz got up and moved around the table to sit next to you. When you looked into his eyes, you were surprised by just how gentle they were. “You don’t have to lie to me…or to yourself.”

As you saw the pure concern and affection in Kaz’s gaze, you felt the dams break. Tears freely fell from your eyes as the fears you had been holding in for so long finally came out. Kaz gently placed his hand on your back, trying his best to show comfort and support.

“I don’t-I don’t like my body. Or me in general. Or life. I just…” You trailed off, hanging your head. “I just thought that if I could control what I ate, everything would be so much better.”

“And did it?”

Closing your eyes, you let the truth come out in the smallest whisper. “No.”

“I didn’t think so.” Kaz responded, his voice thoughtful. “Do you want to get better?”

Slightly surprised by the question, you looked back up into Kaz’s eyes. “I—I think so. I’m just scared of what might happen.”

Kaz took his hand off your back and took your hand instead. “You don’t have to go through this alone.” He promised.

“You want to help me?” You asked, searching for any sign of doubt or falsehood in Kaz’s eyes.

But as his blue eyes pierced your soul, you felt the truth of his words. “Every step of the way.”

———————————————————————

Good to his word, Kaz Brekker was there for you through everything. He found the best physician and psychologist in Ketterdam, and he was there for every meeting to be a support. Kaz also let you tell the other Crows at your own pace, but when you did, your support system went from one to six instantly. Your little family was there for you, and even though you were scared, it gave you comfort.

Following the treatment plan was difficult. The old inner demons that had haunted you for so long constantly reappeared, making eating difficult. But Kaz and the Crows made sure that you were never alone at mealtime, and they never shamed you for struggling with a particular food or for needing more time. So slowly, with the help of everyone and especially Kaz, bit by bit you learned to heal your relationship with food and your body.

———————————————————————

It was a surprisingly clear and sunny Sunday that spring when Ketterdam’s deadliest gang walked down the street, laughing and cajoling the whole way. Upon entering the familiar restaurant, all seven of the crows managed to squeeze into their familiar booth, with only a few complaints and pokes along the way. As you all settled in, a serving girl came up to the table.

You and Kaz were sitting closest to the edge, but the girl elected to talk to you first. “Are you ready to order?”

Kaz held his breath as he watched you hesitate for a moment, looking at the menu on the table.

Looking back up at the serving girl, a bright smile adorned your face. “I’ll have [your favorite breakfast food], please.”

The girl nodded as she wrote down your order, and moving on to Nina, who launched into her elaborate waffle order. But Kaz felt his heart swell with pride, knowing deep down the effort that you were putting in. Kaz reached out underneath the table, and softly he took your hand inside his gloved one. Slightly surprised, you looked up at him, but looking into Kaz’s eyes told you everything he couldn’t say aloud.

Gently squeezing Kaz’s hand in return, you looked around at the little family you and he had built. The journey ahead was long, but your future was bright and full of love.

———————————————————————

Recovery is possible; you are wonderful and loved, and you deserve happiness. Real, true happiness. If are struggling with any kind of ED and you are in the united states, please go to this link and get the help you need. <3

#shadow and bone #netflix shadow and bone #season 2 shadow and bone #six of crows #crow club #the crow club #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader

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jujutsubaby · 5 months

Note

congrats on your milestone sweetie!!! a hot white mocha with oat milk, and a slice of the rose milk cake from maison rose would be lovely 🌹 thanks! 🤗

a/n. thank u for participating babe xx i really appreciate it. your ask was giving xmas/holiday szn so i decided to riff off of that hehe enjoy ~

🌹 WELCOME TO MAISON ROSE ! 🌹

🤍 PAIRING. mikasa

🤍 WORD COUNT. 1.4k+

what sucks more than having to work during the holidays? no, really, you’re waiting for an answer while you’re cleaning up another spill on the counter for the third time this morning. how are people this careless about leaving their drinks near the ledge?

not only that, but you have to do an expert job of cleaning or else your boss, mr. clean freak levi ackerman, would tear you a new one. god, you wish you had made better plans in advance.

and to make matters worse, eldians rarely believed in using the holidays to stay at home and relax. rather, it was a time of festivities and late night gatherings @ paradis’ trendiest cafe: maison rose.

okay, sure you’re sounding bitter right now and not at all in the holiday spirit but you have a good reason and it’s that you miss marley and your family, but alas, it was your choice to “find yourself” and you just happened to find yourself enjoying making delectable drinks and pastries with levi during his retirement.

you take a look at your watch. 11:30pm. two more hours until closing. you can do this. at this point, people were already wrapping up their conversations and heading back to someone’s house, so you’ve been spending most of the time touching up the cake display and cleaning the coffee bar.

as you’re loading up the dirty dishes into the back, you hear the laughter of your least favorite customer. okay, let’s get all the formalities out of the way: you love and cherish every customer equally and you strive to make the best drink every day. but you would be lying if you didn’t think about using the expired milk on eren jeager’s cafe au lait every time he visits.

it’s not that he’s rude or mean…just a bit too brash and uncomely for your liking. you finally see him and his friends walking towards the counter to order: armin, jean, connie, and…some (gorgeous? ethereal?) raven-haired maiden you’ve never seen before. what’s a girl like her doing with a crass, uncultured, oafish guy like —

“‘sup babygirl, y’miss me?” eren says, winking at you and effectively derailing your train of thought. you stop staring at the girl like some juvenile teenager and focus back on eren. he’s wearing a black supreme hoodie, and you’re pretty sure it’s fake. you roll your eyes.

“what do you want, jaeger?” you ask, annoyed at his greeting for you.

he frowns at your unwelcoming response. “why’re you acting like you don’t know your favorite customer’s drink?”

you raise an eyebrow. “so one iced bleach latte for you?”

“i bet that would actually be so good because i know levi keeps the good cleaning shit in the back.” he says, without missing a beat.

“can you guys not do your usual antics tonight? it’s literally a holiday here…” you turn around to see levi with crossed arms glaring at both you and eren, and you both nod your head and play nice to not scare the customers away. you quickly start jotting down the orders of everyone with eren, but you only paid attention to one particular order.

a hot white mocha latte with a slice of rose milk cake on the side. the same rose milk cake you had spent hours this morning decorating, and had only one slice left. was it super delusional for you to think that this was meant to be? a raven haired maiden to request the very last piece of your hard work?

you got so caught up in your fantasies (read: slight delusions) that you forgot to ask for her name.

you pride yourself in preparing your drinks with care and detail, but for some reason, you found yourself frothing the milk a little extra longer for the white mocha, and being extra precise pouring the latte art.

you call eren’s name for the drinks and he gets up to receive them. a thought pops into your head, and you know it’s gonna hurt you more than eren to say it, but…fuck it, it’s the holidays anyway.

“eren, wait.” you hesitate to say, not even realizing you were holding a silent breath. your hands clam up. “uhh, who’s…that girl you’re with?”

just as expected, a sinister smirk forms on eren’s face as he sneaks a glance back at mikasa who’s chuckling at something connie has said. “oh? you mean mikasa? why’d ya wanna know? does someone have a cruuussh–”

“shut…up, jaeger!” you hush him, not wanting anyone else in the cafe to hear. “i don’t have a crush on her okay, god forbid i wanna know my customer’s names, jeez…”

“oh, okay, then you’re fine if i admit to you she’s my girlfriend?” you practically drop the last precious slice of rose milk cake from the plate you’re holding. ain’t no fucking way she’s with him…

“you’re lying,” you say definitely, calling our eren’s bluff.

“okay, yeah, i am. but still, that means you dig her, oooo~”

you regret this already. oh well, at least you tried. “just take your stupid drinks and go.” and for once, eren does as you say.

you notice eren’s party stays longer than most other people, and it’s probably because of their close history with levi, who has been making the rounds to say hello to his old survey corps colleagues.

as the two hours dwindle down to minutes, you’re almost done wiping down the countertops and unloading the dishes. levi leaves upon your insistence that he enjoy a night out with erwin and hange, despite his groaning and moaning about just wanting to go home, so it’s on you to close up shop.

you wave goodbye to eren’s friends, and scrunch your nose up in disgust at eren. however, you notice the most peculiar thing: mikasa waving them goodbye whilst staying behind. you’re confused, wasn’t she…?

mikasa collects her plate and cup and meets you across the countertop. she looks so pretty wearing a tight fitted stop and baggy ripped jeans, that you almost don’t register her greeting you.

“hey, sorry i’m bringing in these plates so late, i know you must be dying to go home…”

“oh! um, don’t worry about it, it’s not a big deal as long as you enjoyed your order.” you say warmly, taking the dishes from her. your fingers brush against her hands and you could’ve sworn there was twinge of pink on her cheeks.

“it was the best drink! but i was really blown away about the rose milk cake? eren told me you make them every morning and design them yourself? is that true?” eren told her that? eren talked about you to mikasa?

“oh, uh, yeah, i guess i do,” you say, scratching the back of your head.

“don’t be so humble! you should be so proud of what you made. you’ve actually ruined cakes for me, so thanks for that.” you chuckle.

“do you really like it so much? i’ve been saving a slice of saffron milk cake because it was leftover from today in the back, you want it?”

“oh! eren told me you might have some leftovers in the back but i thought he was just messing with me like always.”

“yeah, you can’t ever trust that guy.” eren? telling mikasa? about your secret cake stash in the back? the last time you told him about that, you made him promise to keep it a secret while you two scarfed them down after levi left.

“i never do! at least not for normal stuff like this,” she chuckles. that being said, you were glad eren’s big mouth blabbed this little secret.

you go to the back and bring out two slices of saffron milk cakes for mikasa in to-go boxes. she stares at the cakes, before demurely looking at your eyes. the eye contact catches you off guard as she says, “maybe we can sit down and share the slices together? i don’t think we ever met, y/n. sorry, eren told me your name…i hope that was okay.”

wait? she asked eren for your name? “i’d love to, actually.”

the delusions were well and alive in your mind as you once again are convinced this must be fate, even if that fate involves a little bit of eren’s meddling. you take off your apron and join mikasa in the couch in the corner, where the two of you sink into the sofa, and end up way too close to each other as you share the cakes.

but neither of you mind it.

#attack on titan #aot #snk #shingeki no kyojin #mikasa ackerman #mikasa x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #snk x reader #🪅 pree's follower events #☕️ coffee break

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iwannabangchan · 2 years

Note

안녕! I really like your blog, and a personal fav is “Sweet” (Hyunjin bias here) !! Anyways I saw your requests are open and I’d like to request sneaky late night phone s*x with him pleaseee !! xx

His and Hers

Pairing: Hyunjin x Fem reader

Word count: 0.9k

Content Warnings: Smut (minors dni); Mutual masturbation (F+M); Established relationship; Phone sex (thats pretty much it lol)

A/N: 안녕! 질문 보내주셔서 정말 감사합니당~ ^-^ How u guys doin’? Hope you’re well! This is just a quick piece I wrote at 3am before going to college that same morning, so if it’s sorta crappy I’m very sorry lol. Also, I hope you like the little audio, I thought it sounded like him so I just threw it in to add some sparkle :D (you gotta follow to hear it!)

Anyways, pls feel free to send in a request, or just a message (I like chatting to u guys :P) Lots of love,

~ ♥ Li ♥

*Ring Ring*

“Hello?” you croaked, squinting your eyes from the bright light of your phone.

“Did I wake you? I'm sorry, baby”

“No worries,” you yawned, finally zoning into reality. “What's up?”

“ I just miss you...”

“I miss you too, so much”

“Tell me, baby, what are you wearing right now?”

You chuckled at his forwardness, “ Your shirt, why?” you answered, running your hand down the soft fabric of the oversized shirt he left in your apartment.

“I'm intrigued. What else?”

“Laced panties”, you replied, trailing your finger lower, “The ones you bought me. Your favorite.”

He bit his lip and palmed his semi-hard cock. “God, you're such a tease-”

“What! How?”, you giggled, “I did nothing.”

“Maybe I'll fuck you in them while the members are home, what do you think about that?”

“Are you for real?”, you asked, trying to stifle your laughter to not be heard by your roommates.

“Seriously, I miss your taste,” he said slowly stroking his bulge. “I wish I could be with you right now. Kiss you, touch you… bury my face between your legs.” He leaned back and slipped his hand through the waistband as raunchy sex flashbacks raced in his mind. Particularly, the moment he met your teary-eyed gaze, while he worked magic on your heat with his tongue; your fucked out expression as your eyes struggled to gain their focus was permanently engraved in his mind.

You rid yourself of his shirt, your nipples hardened at the sudden contact with the cold air. You closed your eyes and massaged your breasts imagining that it was him touching you so gently. “And don't even get me started on your dick,” you began, “remember when I sucked you so good you came 3 times in a row?”

“I really need that again.” he shuddered, stroking his dick faster as his breaths got heavier. “I need to kiss you so bad. I've been thinking about it all week. Are you touching yourself?”

"Mhmm, wanna hear?” you lowered the phone in between your legs and dipped a finger into your soaked cunt to let him hear the squelches as you fingered yourself.

“Fuck, you’re that wet for me?” he groaned lowly, and just like that Hyunjin slid his sweatpants completely off, cock springing free.

Your eyes rolled back at the thought of him stretching you out again and pounding into you relentlessly.

“Please cum with me!” your legs began to shake as your moans got raspier and you felt your high sneakily approaching. You both increased the pace, both desperate to reach the peak of your self-pleasure. “Ah! Hyunjin, I'm so close,”

“Fuck. Me too, Y/N” Hyunjin’s groans increased on the other end of the phone from hearing your breaths and the sweet squelches of your sopping pussy, pushing him to pump his dick faster in his fist, towards the release he craved and deserved.

He called out your name as he ejaculated, white cum squirting onto his clenched thighs and dripping down the back of his hand. His ragged heaving breaths eventually stilled, uniting you both to a brief silence.

“Hyunjin, you made me make a mess in my underwear.” you giggled “ Maybe I'll give you these ones to add to your collection. You'd like that wouldn't you?”

“Who said I have a collection??”

“You really thought I didn't notice?”

You both let out weak laughter, not having the energy to even tease each other.

“Mmh, baby I want you right now.” he sighed, “come over, and let me sneak you in by the back door.”

“I'm on my way.”

♥ Thank you for reading ♥

Taglist

@newobssessioneverymonth @planetdemon @notrafespouge @whatudowhennooneseesyou

If you would like to be tagged or removed, please comment or send me a request! I also accept tags for specific memebers :)

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otrtbs · 9 months

Note

I have the craziest idea. How about instead of being rude and disrespectful to all the nice people that provide us with content we love for our niche lil fandom (you know…the ones that provide us with FREE fanart and fanfics?) we instead THANK THEM for being lovely human beings for giving us all this free stuff and if we disagree with or don’t like a fic or piece of art we move on without being shitty about it?

also guess what? If you don’t like a ship in a fic…there are filters. If you don’t like a trope in a fic…there are filters. YOU DON’T HAVE TO READ IT. Nobody is holding a gun to ur head (like Evan and Barty when Reggie interviewed James) and saying you will only live if you read a fic you don’t like the whole way through and then post ur horrible opinion online.

smh why are people like this???

Anyway…thanks sm for ahb I absolutely loved it and it’s the reason I want to do art history a level <333.

hi !!! love you!!! <333

the thing is the person who made that tiktok makes art for the marauders fandom ??? like genuinely where is the disconnect there?? what if ppl started making videos just ripping their art to shreds ??? they’re just a creative bashing other fandom creatives for some tiktok likes and engagement. truly vile behavior.

and it’s open season in that comment section. fandom is supposed to feel like a loving or supportive community and those fuckwads are content to make it as hateful and divisive as possible as long as they get a few tiktok likes from it. pathetic!

also it’s not a “you’re just mad ppl hate ur favorite fics/something u wrote” issue. bc no one is saying that. nothing is going to be universally agreed upon. like not everything is everyone’s cup of tea. it’s how you move on and talk about the things you enjoy instead of the ones you hate that make fandom a place for experimenting and make it an encouraging creative place. like grow up. talk about your issues w fics privately w friends. blasting it on the internet is just so fucking loserly.

N E WAYZ please let me know how your a levels go and thank you for being so sweet !! xx

#asks

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heich0e · 6 months

Note

liv do you mayhaps have a spicy samu wip hehehehehehe (also i need elaboration on what u and suna were up to in that dorm room xx)

[i truthfully have like 7 smutty samu wips but they will all likely be finished at some point so instead here's a snippet from a VERY DRAMATIC fic i'll never finish where atsumu cheats on his girlfriend (who samu is in love with btw) and this is reader confronting osamu after the fact] tw: infidelity

“C’mon,” Osamu grunts, tugging lightly on your arm from your side. “Yer makin’ a scene."

You rip your arm away, turning your fury onto him.

“This is a scene, Osamu. It's been one. A best picture worthy act for the past two and a half fucking years. So I think your congratulations ought to go to the star of the show—”

You swallow thickly over the knot in the back of your throat, angry tears that you refuse to let fall pricking at your eyes as you throwing a hand out in Atsumu's direction. He flinches at the gesture from his seat at the counter, his eyes averted from yours now—downturned now in the most disgustingly belated display of shame you've ever seen.

“—you really gave the performance of a lifetime.”

The restaurant around you has gone deathly silent, patrons and staff alike shocked still by your words.

“And you?” you laugh mirthlessly, turning your head and finally rounding in on the younger of the two twins, “you may not be identical, but you’re just as much of a liar as your brother.”

You’re shaking as you seethe the words, trembling with the immensity of the betrayal and the hurt that you can feel pulsing—hot and acrid and toxic—in your veins.

You've said your piece now, and just looking at either one of the Miya's faces is enough to nauseate you, so you turn to leave—heading in the direction of the door.

You don't know how they plan to smooth things over in your wake.

You don't care.

You're halfway down the street when you hear someone call your name.

"Would ya stop for a fucking minute?"

The last thing you ever expected was for a Miya to come running after you in the wake of what just transpired in the restaurant. Least of all Osamu.

The man stands behind you, slightly out of breath from chasing you down the road. His cheeks are ruddy, though you suspect that's as much from humiliation—or possibly anger—than it is the exertion of his run.

"Why on earth would I ever do that?" you spit, but you do stop walking in spite of your words.

"I need to talk to you," Osamu insists, scrubbing at his mouth with the back of his knuckles.

"I've said everything I need to say to you."

"You didn't even give me a chance to explain—"

"Explain what?" You snap, incredulous and furious and hurt. “You knew. You knew. The whole time it was happening. And you didn’t think to warn me? To help me?”

“Do ya really think I didn’t want to tell ya about it?” Samu roars, his eyes wide in a way that makes him look almost hysterical. He pushes his hand up under the brim of his hat to rake it through his hair, knocking the painfully familiar Onigiri Miya cap to the ground in the process—though he doesn't seem to notice. "Do ya think I don't see how shitty this is? How awful what he did to you is? That when I found out I wasn't just as fuckin' sick to my stomach about it as I am now?”

Your lips part. "Do you expect me to feel bad for you, Osamu?"

You watch as he grips his dark hair in his hands, the strands mussed from his fingers and with a ring around his temples from the indent of his baseball cap as the ends peek out through his white-knuckled grip. He looks absolutely dishevelled—like a man splitting at the seems.

"No. God. Fuck, of course not," Osamu says, his shoulders slumping as he screws his eyes shut. He sounds completely broken when he finally speaks again. "But he's my brother. He's my brother. What was I supposed to do?"

#liv got mail #WIP

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thomasschabot · 2 years

Text

here comes your man

elias pettersson x director!fem!reader

great loves come around only once in a lifetime, and if you’re lucky enough they come back

word count: 3.6k

warnings: cursing, light allusion to sexual activity, alcohol consumption

a/n: this is my piece for @selfindulgentpoorlywritten in @antoineroussel’s winter fic exchange!! i hope you like it andi, i had a blast creating this angsty little world that eventually gets wrapped up with a hopeful little bow 🤍 as always, a million hugs and kisses go out to demi for organizing another majorly successful event!!!! props to @matthewtkachuk i guess for proofreading 0.5 seconds before i posted (love u b xx)

⭑⭒⭑

He’s impossible to forget, no matter how much you want to.

Elias Pettersson was the love of your life from the moment you laid eyes on him. It was a normal day, filled with redoing shots and redoing their blocking over and over because athletes are notoriously horrible listeners, until he came in and rocked your world as soon as he stepped in front of the camera to introduce herself. All kind eyes and confident smirks, Elias shook your hand and invited you to get drinks after finishing up so the pair of you could get to know each other better, seeing as you’ll also be following up north in a few weeks to shoot another promotional piece. The night had ended well into the morning, and you were inseparable from that moment on. Everyone around you was pleasantly surprised, knowing how much it took for you to let people in, but something about Elias just made you feel safe.

Things progressed quickly, but naturally, and eventually you moved in with him because his salary allowed for a much more prolific and comfortable lifestyle. You fit together naturally, like two sides of the same coin, and you loved him with every fibre of your being. Elias reciprocated, protecting you fiercely from overbearing Canucks fans and doing everything he could to show just how much he cared. Moments where hockey didn’t take precedence were rare, but he made them so special every single one was impossible to forget. Brock and Nils did their best to keep teasing from the team and other family members to a minimum but neither of you minded much — you were so in sync and had each other to get through whatever was going to get thrown at you.

Everything changed after the Canucks failed to make the playoffs for three consecutive years, though you understood why to a point. While the situation had been hard on you, watching him dissolve into a frustrated mess, it was excruciating on Elias — after all, he was the face of a rapidly sinking franchise. You did all you could to support him through the ups and down, taking time off work when he needed extra care and making sure he didn’t do anything that could cause too much stress and decrease the value of his sparse point production. Elias wasn’t shy about letting you know much he wanted to be back on top, picking fights when you would return from all-day shoots and giving you the cold shoulder for days when he returned from lost road trips. Despite his pain and hostility, you thought the pair of you were working through the issues, and you had been waiting for the perfect time to do the conventional and pop the question to your love.

The plan disintegrated after Elias left, crumbled like dust in the wind. You had been away on a promotional shoot with the rest of the team to hopefully quell discontented fans, with only him and a handful of Canucks staying in Vancouver to focus on recovering fully from their injuries before scattering to every corner of the world. No one had alerted you to his strange behavior, his recession into himself — whether it had been intentional or not you’re still not sure. When you entered the condo upon your return to the city there was nothing but silence and darkness instead of Elias’s laughter and excitement bouncing off the walls. He didn’t leave a note — just packed a bag and left. You tried to call him, but the number was out of service, and no one in his family responded to your panicked messages in haphazard Swedish. Elias’s close friends in Vancouver provided no details, and you were forced to live in a paid-off unit that used to belong to the one solid person in your life but now belongs to you. You assume he came back to the city at the start of the season, but you begged for a transfer to another department and no longer work on the sports media side of the firm, so you’ve got no way to be sure since you vowed to never engage in hockey again.

Time certainly hasn’t made it easier, despite your friends endearing statistics to prove the common saying, and you spend hours every day reliving what you once had. He’s everywhere — travel mug in your office from when he used to slip away from training to eat lunch with you and the commercials you did with him over the years replaying on television so you can never escape him and the love you’ve lost. He’s still in the apartment you once shared, trinkets and books and clothes left for you to pack up and donate. Elias Pettersson made it difficult for you to move on, no matter how desperately you want to.

⭒⭑⭒

“I call dibs on the left side!” Elias shouts, pushing past you and running full speed into the hotel room. It’s All-Star Weekend, and you’ve joined your boyfriend in sunny Southern California, ready to soak up some rays when not inside the chilly arena. You needed a break from work after months of near constant shoots, and Elias was all too willing to enjoy more time by your side, even if he technically had a job to do.

You frown, upset with him for picking the side you always sleep on. “But I always sleep on the left,” you whine, before realizing you sound like a child. Instead, you square your shoulders and enter the room while doing the best you can do pretend like it doesn’t bother you.

Elias laughs when he sees you, bright and bubbly in stark contrast to your broodiness. “Oh baby,” he coos, closing the distance between your bodies and wrapping his toned arms around your waist, “I just want to be able to protect you, stay between you and the door. These young guys are like dogs and I don’t trust them.”

His concern is endearing, and you’ve never been great at staying angry with Elias. Any and all negative emotions vanish the moment he kisses you. It’s tender, loving, but with a gentle buzz of electricity humming underneath to let you know her his intentions. You’d risk your life a thousand times over if it meant you got to kiss Elias whenever you wanted.

“Okay,” you sigh breathily when he finally pulls away, breathless and moving to deadbolt the door, as if preparing for a night with no distractions whatsoever.

“Okay?”

You look at him confused, as if he couldn’t have possibly forgotten what made you upset in the first place. “You can sleep on the left side of the bed, but only if I get to be the big spoon while we watch our show.”

Elias smiles. “That’s my girl.”

⭑⭒⭑

You’d do anything to have him call dibs on part of the room right now.

Instead, you open your hotel room door to find two double beds placed a perfect distance apart. You’re bunking with Emily, your new assistant, and while she’s friendly enough and the two of you get along well, she’s not the one you want to be sharing a hotel room with in Wisconsin in the middle of January. She isn’t the one you want to brush your teeth with and make small talk about the upcoming shoot with.

There’s no real reason for you to slam your duffel on the floor beside the bed left to you, but you do. Elias isn’t here, isn’t coming back, and you need to get the fuck over yourself. Knowing doesn’t make it any easier, and when you face plant into the stiff mattress and let out a gravelly scream Emily gets incredibly concerned. She’s noticed you’ve been off since arriving at the hotel — it wouldn’t take anyone remotely close to you to realize something’s got you down in a major way.

“What’s the matter?” she asks tentatively, worried her words might set you off further. “The idiots we’re going to film over the next couple of days stressing you out?”

Emily doesn’t see you roll your eyes because they’re tucked so close to the blanket it’s suffocating, but you can’t help it. Of course she’d think your issue was the job you both came here to do — she didn’t know Elias besides him being a superstar athlete or the fact you once loved him so much it made it difficult to breathe when he was around. You remind yourself it isn’t her fault and manage to muster up a response.

“It’s nothing, I swear. Sorry for making you think there was an issue, especially about the shoot. I’m excited to do it.”

There’s no way she bought the lousy excuse, but Emily is also smart enough to leave well enough alone. If she hears you sobbing in the shower she doesn’t mention it. When you eventually step out of the bathroom and walk towards the left bed Emily gave you without a fight, you can’t help but notice she doesn’t watch television to unwind. Instead, she’s set up a puzzle on the small coffee table in the room and is working in complete silence. It was something you did with Elias as a sort of grounding exercise, to distract you both from the horrors of the real world, and you’re confused why it isn’t common practice.. The silence in the room suddenly makes your ears ring and you cover them in an attempt to block out the pain and loneliness the sound represents because Elias isn’t ever going to pressure you into watching some fishing show ever again.

She isn’t clueless and refuses to believe there isn’t something seriously wrong with you when you refuse to even look in her direction. “Okay, what the hell is going on? If you don’t want to room with me just say so. They’re other crew members I can stay with, and they’ll probably be much nicer than you.”

“No,” you sigh, so exhausted by the weight of your emotions, “I don’t have an issue with bunking with you. This is just the first time I’ve had to stay in a hotel since breaking up with my boyfriend, and we spent a lot of time together in rooms pretty much identical to this one over the years. I guess I’m struggling more than I thought.”

Emily nods like she understands, and while you don’t think she really gets the gravity of your confession, it’s nice to know someone is there for you. When she asks about him and what he was like you laugh — how do you encompass Elias Pettersson into a single sentence? The task seems impossible but Emily is patient, letting you talk as much as you want. Once the words run out and you’ve cried enough tears to fill a swimming pool the two of you turn out the lights and try to sleep. There’s still an Elias sized hole in your soul, but having someone not skirt around her in conversation because they’re afraid to see your face fall is refreshing.

⭒⭑⭒

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

You close your mouth, open it, and close it again, but no sound comes out. Elias is standing on the doorstep in a sharp all-black suit, red pocket square contrasting the darkness and knocking the breath out of your lungs. He had insisted on getting ready for your firm’s yearly charity gala separately, to ‘keep the mystery alive’, and you’re glad he left early this afternoon to get ready at Brock’s. If he hadn’t, neither of you would have made it to the event

“Shut up,” you grumble, pulling him inside and kissing him with the fire of a thousand suns. “You look like a classical sculpture.”

Elias giggles, runs a hand through his hair to tousle it to perfection, and reconnects your lips. “Me? This old thing? You’re the real smokeshow here, baby.”

The deep green long-sleeve dress you found in the back of your closest pales in comparison to what he’s wearing, but the way Elias is eyeing you makes it seem as though you’re wearing a tiara gifted personally by the Queen. A warmth creeps up the back of your neck and wraps around to your cheeks, fueling the fire for Elias to continue to marvel at you.

“Come on, you,” you sigh, looping an arm around Elias’s waist and leading him out the door. “We were supposed to pick up my boss nearly fifteen minutes ago.”

He doesn’t speak, knows you’re right, and follows you willingly. Elas does the driving, always has, and when he opens up your door he steals another quick kiss. Your laughter bounces off the roof of the car the entire way to the next destination.

⭑⭒⭑

The knock doesn’t belong to Elias. There’s no plan for him to accompany you to the gala this year. Hell, you don’t even know if he’s in the country. The Canucks schedule no longer takes up space in your mind given the split, and you don’t really even know if it’s technically hockey season anymore. You know all that, and yet you can’t stop yourself from hoping Elias will be on the other side of the door when you open it. He isn’t — it’s your friend James, looking incredibly dapper in a tuxedo that must be from his high school prom but somehow still fits. A corsage rests gingerly in his hand, and you could cry at the sight of it. The small bouquet is made of lilies and baby’s breath, known by everyone as Elias’s favourite flowers because they remind him of home.

“I thought you might want a piece of him with you tonight, even though it hurts a lot,” he says tenderly, and slips it onto your wrist. Tears well in your eyes, but they’re mostly the happy kind. Of course you wanted Elias with you, in any capacity you could get though your romance has long since gone cold, and the fact James didn’t hesitate to make it happen makes you cherish him more. Before his hand can leave yours you raise them both towards your face, placing a chaste kiss to the back of his in thanks.

He’s patient as you lock up and opens the car door for you like a true gentleman. Though you adore James Taylor and would probably follow him to war if he asked, he isn’t the person you want beside you. Your heart and soul yearns for Elias in a way no one else will ever understand. It’s sort of ridiculous that you’re still hoping because there’s been no contact for nearly ten months, but you’re a hopeless romantic at heart and want him to come back so badly. James doesn’t pretend to share your pain, which you’re incredibly thankful for, and is the only person in your life who isn’t pressuring you to get past the monumental loss that was Elias leaving.

“I miss him so much,” you sigh when the car stops at a red light.

There’s a beat of silence before he responds, as if he’s letting you feel just how much you miss your long-lost love at this very moment. “I know, kiddo. I know.” When you turn to face him, James offers a smile and turns the radio up a little louder. It takes a moment for the sound to reach your ears, but when it does you begin to cry again.

Through the crackling speakers of the old truck is the song you and Elias shared your first kiss to. It had happened on the make-shift dance floor of the wrap party for the third shoot the pair of you collaborated on , in front of everyone, but it had been absolutely perfect. You still remember the cheering from Quinn and a couple other teammates he brought along, and your friends’ fond smiles because they were relieved you finally let your guard down enough to love somebody. Time eclipses you, and you’re thrown back to that night for the rest of the song. You’re a little shaken up when the car jerks into park at the event space, and James gives you a moment to compose yourself before he leads you inside and stays close the rest of the night, always there to cheer you up when the loneliness begins to hover a little too close.

⭒⭑⭒

The years pass, torturously slow at first but then at a rapid-fire pace, and the pain of losing Elias turns into a dull ache that only flares occasionally. A passion project that started in your living room turned you away from sports related content and into the world of the silver screen, relocating you to Los Angeles and into one of the most in-demand directors for action movies that manage to still pack a gut-wrenching punch. Rarely do you have a spare moment to think these days, and almost never do you let the thoughts drift to your ex-boyfriend.

It’s been nearly five years since he walked out, smashed your life to smithereens without a second thought, and while you’ve healed from the trauma of it all there’s still the occasional moment where something reminds you of Elias and it makes it hard to breathe. Tonight, it’s the sight of a hockey game on the television of the dive bar you frequently haunt when you’re home for more than forty-eight hours. Shallow puff of air float through your mouth as you look for him on the screen, realizing that it’s a stupid idea because Vancouver isn’t even playing. You then remember how much fun you had watching Elias’s games, and you curse him for taking something joyous away from you. Another round of drinks is ordered, the bartender eyeing you wearily but complying, and you wallow in silence for longer than you’ll ever admit to anyone.

Hours pass and midnight is rapidly approaching. While you don’t have an early morning, not having to be at a table read until the late afternoon, you know you can’t hold your liquor the way you could when you were younger and staying out much later is going to cause more hassle than it’s worth.

“Could I trouble you for one more and the bill?”

It’s getting increasingly loud in the dive, and you have to yell to be heard. However, it still isn’t working, and the bar staff can’t seem to understand what it is you want. Damn them for making you spend more time here. You clear your throat, about to try again, when a voice you never thought you’d hear again speaks from behind.

“Combine her tab with mine and close it out, if that isn’t too much to ask?”

The hairs along the nape of your neck bristle. “I can pay for my own drinks, thank you very much.” You refuse to turn around, knowing that if you do your resolve will crumble. Anger is the primary emotion when you think about Elias, but you also miss him so goddamn much. Never getting any closure makes things tricky.

A chuckle fans out behind you. “Never said you couldn’t. I do, however, think it’s the very least I could do for you.”

It’s true, and you let him know it. Still facing away from him, you don’t utter another word, even after the final drinks are brought around and everything is squared away. Elias doesn’t push you, knows your stony resolve still after all the time away. The silence is deafening as you wait for him to finish his beer before downing your cocktail. Not a word is uttered between the two of you, but the air is slowly losing its tension.

Eventually you turn towards him, haphazard and full of spite, though it’s lowering considerably. You hate the way he destroyed your life when he left, and you hate the way looking at him in the dim makes your heart soften considerably.

“I hate you.”

“You should.”

“Are you going to apologize?” you ask, unsure why it wasn’t the first thing out of his mouth.

Elias cocks a brow. “Will it make anything better?”

“I suppose not.”

Silence. It isn’t uncomfortable, but it isn’t like it used to be either, and you aren’t exactly sure what to do next. Elias decides for you. “I’d like to maybe work towards being friends again,” he speaks cautiously, as if he’s terrified of your reaction. “I don’t know many people in the city, or in southern California for that matter, and seeing the occasional friendly face would help out a lot.”

He explains that he was traded to Los Angeles in the off-season, and that though he knew you were around sometimes he didn’t want to reach out after all the pain you experienced because of him. You like that he doesn’t try to apologize or make excuses, just acknowledges he did a horrible thing and is content to sit with the consequences for the rest of his life.

You consider his proposal, thoroughly mull it over in your head, but you can’t find any logical reason to turn Elias down. Your parents taught you to give everyone a second chance, and it seems like you’ll be in complete control of whatever happens.

“We can do that. Just slowly.”

A nod of understanding comes from him, and with that he stands from the bar stool he’s occupied for the last little while. “I’ll see you around then. I kept my old number for convenience, so just give me a call when you’re ready.”

You nod, mimicking Elias’s previous action, and offer a short wave as he retreats into the busying street. Los Angeles is a city that comes alive in the night, and you can’t help but wonder if the universe sent Elias to you for a second chance because it knew just how much you still loved him. Maybe you find yourself hoping this proposed friendship drifts back to the way things were, but you’ll never tell a soul.

⭑⭒⭑

enjoy this fic? give it a reblog :) <3

#elias pettersson imagine #elias pettersson x reader #elias pettersson fic #vancouver canucks imagine #vancouver canucks fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #cwrites #by the skin of my teeth this isn't late!!!! taking it as a win

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wanderingelvis · 1 year

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U are my fav Elvis writer 🙏do u have anything new coming up? xx

thank you!! 🧚 & YES!! as part of the lil challenge i've set myself, here are some upcoming WIPs that i aim to have published in the next couple of weeks <3

Shy!Reader is best friends with Jerry's little sister, she takes Reader to Graceland to meet Elvis where she stays the night and has a bad dream, but no-one is awake to comfort her... apart from the man she's only just met... Elvis.

One of the Memphis Mafia yells at Innocent!Reader that has social anxiety, but once Elvis finds out what's happened to his sweet girl, he makes sure it'll never happen again.

Inexperienced!Reader is a dancer, her mother has made dance her whole life so there's never been any time to learn about any grown up things, something that Elvis immediately takes advantage of.

An alternative ending to THIS request... after Elvis scolds Innocent!Reader and gives her her first orgasm, it all becomes a bit too much and she regresses to a little headspace.

Elvis spots Angelic!Reader in the crowd, she's just a curious little thing and even though she's kissed a boy before, Elvis is convinced she doesn't know how to really kiss, so he decides to teach her.

and MORE

it's all part of my 'summer challenge' where i post 30 elvis based pieces of writing until september! if you want to request anything pls just throw a message in my inbox!!

#elvis x reader #elvis presley #elvis smut #elvis imagine #elvis #elvis x y/n #elvis fluff #70s elvis #elvis x you

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jjtheclown555 · 1 year

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Hey QT, this is fayiif on my alt 😍 since it wont let me request from my main. If our blogs follow the same request rules then I'd like to request a !MermaidJouno x !PirateReader xx Drabbles of fanfic, I don't mind! Have fun, excited 2 see what U make 💙

Stolen Coins and a Tail

tw. your pirate crew treats you like shit tbh

content. you're counting gold pieces after your crew finds treasure when a mermaid appears all of a sudden in the water

pairings. mermaid!jouno x pirate!reader

word count. 1.7k words

a/n. jouno is highkey ooc and i wrote this rlly fast so its not spellchecked but hey whatre u gonna do?? also everyone check out @fayiif bc shes writing mermaid au fics too!!

As per usual, after finding every treasure, you were left counting and calculating every item and their worth. Your captain had found just about any reason to keep you from showing off your skills and capabilities, busying you by having you count the gold coins and various items being one of them. You had found something with a worn down label that you could barely make out as, “Game Boy.” You didn’t know what it was, only that it would be worth a hefty penny back on land. You count every gold piece of the thousands the crew had conquered, boring yourself.

“1, 2…” You mutter counting up another 10-coin pile. As you look at the large pile of gold you still hadn’t finished counting, you realize that given you were already over 1000 coins and you weren’t close to done. Upon this realization, you reach over to the pile, grabbing a small pile of coins to sort out, slipping some down your sleeve to keep as payment for this service.

You stole a few coins every time you did this, keeping them in a little box in your barracks under your bedding for when you returned to land. Part of it was the payment the captain refused to give you and another part was a slight revenge. When your ship would inevitably be hijacked, the captain would lose everything—all his goods stashed away in his office as apparently to thieves as you could imagine—while you would still have your little stash of a few hundred coins under your bedding. Part of you was thrilled for that day, in hopes the other pirates would see your strengths or at least take pity on you and allow you to join their crew.

Unfortunately, the cruelty of your captain wasn’t lost of you when he steps over, knotted black beard waving in your face, much to your irritation. You pull a fake smile, asking what he needed today and praying he didn’t notice what you had done. “Well, I was just wondering how the counting was going!” He says, jovial tone as if you don’t know why he assigned you this job, how he was scared of you getting too skilled and taking over, how he wanted to keep you soft and sweet so you wouldn’t ever use your talents to take him out.

You tell him the items your found and how much gold you had counted out. While telling him your estimates on how much each item would go for, you are interrupted by a crewmate shouting, “There’s something in the water!” He runs off in the middle of your sentence, not a single apology as he looks over to see a tail flick in the water.

You rush up to see what had happened, staring at the mermaid, short white hair with red tips, eyes shut as he feels around the boat. He tunes into the voices shouting, the ale swishing in cups, and even the confident heartbeats that could only belong to pirates. You watch as his face morphs into a realization, his mouth tightening and features scrunching as he attempts to swim away. Unfortunately, he hears a net fly out where he was attempting to swim, causing his to try his best to reroute.

You try to reason with the crew, to let the mermaid leave when one member, a man who had it out for you since day one shouts, “How about we throw Y/N into the water and let the mermaid keep her?” You recoil out of disgust, his croaky voice creeping under your skin. You think he’s joking until him and a few of his friends begin to shout, “Throw them! Throw them!” over and over. You tell them to shut up, calling them immature when the rest of the crew begins chanting along with them.

“Throw them!” Their voices echo, screeching in your ears.

“Throw them!” You can feel the boat shake with the cheers to be rid of you.

“Throw them!” Each voice muddles together until you don’t know who’s who.

“Throw them!” You hear one final time before you tune it out when the captain picks you up, carrying you to the edge of the plank. You kick and scream nearly freeing yourself multiple times until you’re at the very end of the plank and you hear the captain say, “Fine, I’ll let you go,” before dropping you into the ice-cold water below.

The last thing you see before shutting your eyes is the same mermaid rushing over to where you’re falling. You feel yourself sink into the water, accepting your fate. You would never be saved, you’d never get away, you had no one but this crew of pirates that didn’t care what would happen to you so long as it made you miserable. You stop fighting it, you don’t try to swim up, you don’t try to hold your breath. You just open your mouth and let the water begin to fill your lungs.

That is until the mermaid from before pulls you out of the water, he drags you along as you cough the water out of your lungs, not paying the slightest attention to your state. He simply drags you to a nearby island, one you recognized from the maps. An uncharted island with the infamous Amantes Lake, a place swarming with sirens. You assume this is where he came from, thinking carefully as he places you on land. He stares at you in soaking clothes and hair as wet as can be. You know you looked like a mess but it was rude to stare.

He looks for a few more moments, observing you with a curious stare before he reaches over, placing a few gold coins in your lap. “Those fell out of your sleeve.” Is all he says before he swims off, disappearing into the water. You smile at the coins. It isn’t much but it is enough to get back home if a sailor comes by for research. You think of the mermaid that had saved you. While they existed, it was rare for male mermaids to be seen above water. Women were typically the ones spotted, men are presumed to stay beneath the waters surface to find food and take care of the cove while women were thought to keep others in their species safe from sailors.

It was odd, you assumed it was a rare occasion, maybe due to his clearly poor eyesight, but still, you appreciated him saving you. You were a little upset you couldn’t at least thank him but there’s not much you can change about that. All you can do is stand up, still a bit wobbly and try to look for wood to burn. As you wander, finishing setting up a fire after a few minutes you notice a familiar hed of white hair rise from the sea, heading in your direction. You walk over to the edge and he tosses some fish onto the land. “Food.”

You laugh, “I can see that, thank you.” You respond with a hum, bringing the fish to the fire to cook.

He apologizes. “Sorry, I’m just a little tired from those pirates.”

“You and me both,” You chuckle, beginning to cook the fish, ”At least you haven’t had to be tired of them for the past 2 years straight.” You say, thinking of every rude comment, threat, loud night time drinks where you’d get yelled at if a single one of them saw you.

He snickers, “They’d all be dead if I did.”

“Kill them anyways?” You say, tone quirking into a question. You smirk, giggling as he slinks away in an instance.

He throws his head back to think before pulling closer to your place on the land. “No. I wouldn’t do that for you, you’re almost as annoying as the people I work with.” He states, a twinge of his eyebrow showing an intense disdain. Whether it’s for you or his coworkers, you don’t know.

“Oh, are your co-workers at your nine to five job annoying?”

“Not as annoying as your co-workers on that boat.” He says and you kick at him, “Also, I don’t work a nine to five.”

You ask what his job is then. At first he says he can’t divulge but after a little badgering and a few empty threats from each of you, he begins to explain. “I protect Atlantis from humans, keeping it a safe haven for beings like me.” He goes on, explaining his job which leads you to ask if that’s why he was by your ship. “Yes. You were getting too close to our territory so I was sent to divert you. What I wasn’t told is that you were pirates, the worst kind of sailors. I was just supposed to distract them and get away when everyone else arrived to deal with it but no, you had to get in the way and cause problems for me so now they might be on their way.”

You squint at him, “Sorry that I was thrown off my own ship and have almost no way of getting home.” You take the fish off the fire and start eating, finishing your bite and saying, “My bad.”

Your sarcasm isn’t lost on him and he responds in turn, “It’s okay, I forgive you.” THis causes you to scoff, irritated by him. Who knew mythical creatures would be assholes just like humans. “Look, you can just stay on this island. I’ll bring you food and make sure the sirens don’t fuck with you. If you couldn’t save yourself from getting thrown off a boat by one measly human, You couldn’t possibly be a threat.”

“Or is that what I want you to think and this is my plan to get to Atlantis?”

“Shut up.”

“Okay.” You say pausing for a moment. He goes to swim back down and you stop him, “Thank you, by the way. I don’t really have any other options unless a sailor happens to find me here, which is unlikely since almost no one will come here, let alone make it out alive.”

He smiles a little, “I would say it’s no problem, but it will be a hassle.” He mutters and you toss a rock at him, telling him to shut up through a laugh. He swims off, returning everyday to give you food, whatever items he finds thrown into the sea, and providing you some company on your long days. It’s lonely, and he’s not exactly the nicest company, but he’s kind and he is better than nothing.

tag list: @fayiif @valenrien

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd anime #bsd manga #jouno x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd jouno #jouno x you #jouno saigiku #jouno x y/n #bsd x gender neutral reader #jouno bsd

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