#oh hey i wrote this some hours ago. lol

[berrymeter]

i'm prob too shit at art for anyone who isn't a friend of mine to want to comm me... it's ok tho!! i'm normal abt it

[eleganzadellarosa]

BOUNCE BACK

pairing: dominic fike x oc

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 2.2K

AN: I wrote this on a whim for my best friend a few months ago to kick start my want to write. Dom is her bae fr so I obviously had to include him lol. Enjoy and thanks for reading <3

The beach was practically empty, a person scattered about here and there but nothing compared to how packed it usually is. That’s all thanks to how late it was becoming, the setting sun being a telltale sign. You didn’t mind the scarcity though, you wanted to be alone with your thoughts. Maybe the beach wasn’t the best or secluded place to be but you needed some fresh air and wanted to be somewhere where you normally felt happy. The sloshing sound of the waves temporarily took your mind off of today’s earlier events.

You found texts in your boyfriend of 5 years’ phone talking to some girl who carried no importance to you which was a good thing in its own way. The texts ranged from normal conversation to “I can’t wait to be inside you tonight”. You’d been together since the start of high school and you truly believed the relationship would last a lifetime. The feelings were apparently not mutual and after scrolling through the thousands of texts, this charade had been going on for years now. The girl in question was his ex who he dated right before getting with you and their relationship was comparable to a light switch, very off and on. Coming to the realization that he used you as a way to get his mind off of her until they were ready to kiss and makeup.

Nothing could have prepared you for today, but you were never one to turn down your gut feelings and they were right 99% of the time. You felt so stupid for trusting him and loving him the way you did but you constantly reminded yourself that none of this way your fault. The orange hue of the setting sun beamed on you, warming your skin and making the tears on your cheeks glisten. You were a mess. This was the third or fourth time you’ve cried within the past hour and your body seemed to have no intentions of stopping anytime soon. When you felt the vibration from the phone in your hand, you so badly wanted to chuck it into the water without checking it first, hoping the waves would take care of the rest.

Wiping your tears on the back of your hands, your sobbing finally came to a halt and you prayed for a bigger gap in between your next crying session. You lean back on your hands and scrunch the sand under your palms, closing your eyes to soak up the sun before it fully set within the next 30 minutes. The water seemed to move rapidly as the waves began to reach the shore and splash against your toes more frequently.

“Hey um, you might want to move a little farther back, the water is getting kinda high.” An extra shadow cast next to you along with the unfamiliar voice that came from behind you. Unfortunately for you, your puffy face and red eyes showed signs that you had been crying your heart out for the past hour no matter how many times your hands tried to rid your face of the evidence. Perhaps you had been staring at the sun for too long but it took a few seconds for your eyes to adjust and focus on the person now standing beside you.

“I- oh shit sorry, are you okay?” the handsome man asks, crouching down to be at eye level. Speaking of eyes, anyone with a pair could tell that this man was absolutely gorgeous. He had the perfect “boy next door” look to him. The look that made you want to be around him all the time, the look that would have every girl in school chasing after him but not because he was a fuckboy.

Everything about him was downright perfect, well at least to your standards. His hair, his face, his body, literally everything and thinking back to the two seconds you heard him speak, that was perfect too. Maybe all the crying made you let your guard down, but his presence felt so welcoming and you fought the weird urge to go up and hug him. You didn’t realize you hadn’t answered his question until he speaks again. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to but I’d prefer if you did, maybe I can make you feel better.” He then sits down next to you and rests his arms on his knees, which created a space for his head to lay as he looked at you. “Umm…earlier today I found out my boyfriend of 5 years has been cheating on me with his ex. I don’t know if I can even call him my boyfriend because apparently I was just a rebound whenever he needed it and I never caught on.” The end of your sentence gets slightly caught in your throat and you can feel your eyes burning, forcing tears to swell yet again.

“Man…I’m so sorry, that’s so fucked up. Would you feel better if you talked about it? I have time on my hands so I really don’t mind. Shit, you could tell me over and over if that would help.” It wouldn’t hurt to rant right now and him being one of the finest people you’ve ever met was just an added bonus.

The conversations quickly turned from your dumbass ex to getting to know each other. Everything seemed to flow naturally with him, he was such a joy to talk to and you wanted nothing more than for this night to never end. Sadly the sun had already set and it was quite dark out, the moon being the only source of light for you both. The two of you sat in silence for a while longer before you finally decided to check your phone. 9:15 it read. The singular notification being from “person who shall not be named” and you could only imagine what it said, but you wouldn't bother checking now, not if you wanted your mood to be soiled. He was the last thing on your mind and with the way this new guy had two hours feeling like 30 minutes, it was more than you could ask for.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry I kept you here for this long. Thank you for listening to me though, I really needed it, I feel so much better.” He smiled when you finished speaking and shook his head as if to say “don’t worry about it”. “You know, if you’re comfortable with it, I can give you my number and you can text me whenever you need someone to listen. I know the feeling, so I really don’t mind and you’re a really great person to talk to”. Just hearing the offer makes your heart beat with excitement. Smiling maybe a little too hard, you hand him your phone so he can save himself as a contact.

“Wait, I never asked you your name. Dang, I’m sorry I was so focused on myself…” thinking about the selfish act had you almost in tears for the umpteenth time tonight until he rubs a comforting hand over your arm. “You really don’t have to worry about that love, I was here to listen. My name is Dominic but really just call me Dom.” The nickname gave you butterflies, more than his existence already did, if that was even possible. Whenever he smiled your eyes landed on the apple tattoo under his right eye. The longer you looked at him, the more things you noticed but nothing came across as a turn off. He stands up after handing back your phone and dusts the sand off his shorts. He reaches out for you to grab his hand to stand from where you sat.

“And who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?” Once standing, you mimicked his action of dusting off the sand from your clothing before you answer. “Jenna but really just call me Jenna”. Your response made him chuckle since you copied exactly what he had said to you moments earlier. You notice he still hadn’t let go of your hand and when you look up from where they intertwine, he speaks before you can. “Well Ms. Jenna, allow me to escort you back to your vehicle”. The night was ending all too quickly and your heart already aches with longing. “I kinda don’t wanna go back home yet Mr. Dom.” A small smirk paints his face, so small that you would have missed it if you didn’t look at him in time. “Um well, you can come chill with me if you want. I don’t really have anything to do at my house, but I do have food.” “Food is just fine and I don’t care if you don’t have anything to do, chilling is more than enough. Thank you for the invite.”

More hours are spent with you two learning more about one another and eating whatever random food or snacks he had in his house. You decided after chatting for a while that his laugh was in the top 10 things you liked most about him, it sounded so cheerful and he looked so cute whenever he did it. This was the most fun you’ve had in a long time, even more than you can ever recall having with your ex. “Hey do you want to hear something?” He says almost popping up from his seat on the couch. “What do you mean?” You ask clearly confused by his question. “I uh…like making music and I have something I’ve been working on. Do you wanna hear it?” You can tell he gets a bit shy with the way his ears turn a light shade of pink and he scratches the back of his head. Gosh could this man be anymore interesting? He lead you to a room near the back of his house and the door opened to a large space filled with instruments of all kinds. It looked like every studio you’ve seen in movies or TV.

“You can sit wherever you’d like, lemme just grab my guitar”. You find a place on the small couch nestled in the corner, sitting sideways to get a better look at what he was doing. He sits across from you on the couch holding the large brown guitar. He suddenly looked so serious, the guitar pick loosely hanging from between his lips, brows furrowing as he makes sure the guitar is tuned perfectly. Such a simple action, but you couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked while doing it. “This song is called 3 nights, lemme know what you think okay?” His voice mixed with the melody of the song possessed your body, making it move along to the beat. By the time he finished, the lyrics to the chorus were already stuck in your head on loop.

“No freaking way, that was amazing! You have to let other people hear this!” Your comment made him smile from ear to ear and a blush accented his cheeks. “Yeah? It’s still just a rough draft, but if you like it that much then I’m doing something right.” He sets his guitar down next to the couch and leans his head back against the arm. "You know, this is the first time in a long time where I didn't feel like I needed to smoke to get me through the day and I really appreciate that." He lifts his head and finds you staring at him with a sympathetic look on your face. "Obviously I wouldn't since we just met, but I didn't know you felt that way sometimes. I'm glad I could help you as much as you helped me today." He fully sits up on the couch and leaned over to you, his lips lightly brushing your forehead. The action made your body stiffen and he pulled away when he felt it. "Shit..sorry, I just felt like doing that. Sorry, I know that was so weird." You reached over to cup his cheek in your left hand and moved over to kiss him on the soft skin.

"It wasn't weird and I've been wanting to hug you all day. I could really use one of those right now." He wasted no time in pulling you into a tight but gentle hug and tears began to fall from your eyes. He lightly caresses your back and shushes you, trying to bring you some sort of ease to your pained heart. He plants another soft kiss on your forehead and you look up at him through teary eyes. "If I asked to stay longer, would you let me?" "Hell yeah, I'd let you stay the night if you were okay with that. You can sleep in my room and I can sleep on the couch in the living room." You nod your head and he rubs his thumb on your shoulder.

The night was over but the feeling of sadness never came to you as you expected. In contrast to yesterday, this day would start off a lot better and thankfully you had someone around that actually had the ability to take your mind off everything. Little did you know, this would count as the day you met the person who would later become someone you weren't ashamed to call your boyfriend.

[samcarpentersgirlfriend]

SAFE AND SOUND || MICKEY ALTIERI X READER 𖤐₊˚.

summary: after getting a call from the supposed killer on campus, you call your boyfriend mickey to help you feel better.

warnings: gender neutral reader, pet names (babe, baby), ghostface!mickey with oblivious!reader, fluff I guess?? but not when you think abt it lol

word count: 1.1k

a/n: mickey altieri my beloved <33 I wrote this a couple a days ago and I’m gonna start w requests now, so if you’ve requested something it’s hopefully coming soon :)

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

As you step out of the police car outside your dorm building, your head is still reeling. You can’t help but replay the phone call you received merely an hour ago, where the supposed killer on campus called your phone and described - in detail - all the sick ways they were going to make you scream. You’d thought it was a joke at first, but when the caller was able to recall what you wearing in perfect detail - your boyfriend’s old Star Wars shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants - you knew that whoever the freak was, they were really watching you. It made you sick to your stomach.

The nausea still hasn’t completely resided, and as the cops tell that you’ll that they’ll look into it and to call them if you’re contacted again you simply nod your head, dazed.

They drive off, leaving you alone in the dark outside your building. You know nobody’s stupid enough to try anything now, not when the police are still close enough that if you scream, they’ll come driving straight back. Still, that doesn’t stop you from looking over your shoulder when you enter the building or nervously fiddling with your keys as you go up the stairs.

You open your door and call for your roommate, but you’re met with nothing but silence. Sighing, you make a beeline for your bedroom, shrugging off your coat and kicking of your shoes before practically diving onto your bed.

You breathe in.

You breathe out.

You’re fine. The doors are locked, the windows are locked and you’re completely safe inside here.

That doesn’t stop you from feeling on edge, though.

You pick up the phone on your bedside table and dial the number you need from memory.

“Hello?” Mickey says after a few rings.

“Hi Mickey,” you murmur, your voice shaking.

“Oh, hey babe,” he pauses a minute, assessing your tone, “what’s wrong?”

And that’s all it takes for you to burst into tears, your voice indiscernible through the sobs.

“Hey, hey,” Mickey says firmly. “I’m coming over, okay? Just hold on for ten minutes.”

You nod your head - although you know Mickey can’t see you - before he hangs up, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

He’s true to his word and almost ten minutes later there’s a knock at your front door. As soon as you open it Mickey envelops you in a hug, strong arms wrapped around your frame. You’d mostly stopped crying now, but that didn’t mean you felt any better.

“It’s okay,” Mickey soothes, “I’m here now. Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

You pull away and lead Mickey to your bedroom, sighing as you sink onto your bed.

“The killer called,” you start, “he called and said that he could see me - and he could - and he said he was gonna gut me like a fish before he slit my throat and-“

“He what?” Mickey questions, his eyebrows knitting together in a frown. “Babe, why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I was going to, but I called the police straight after and then they took me in for questioning, so…” you trail off, avoiding your boyfriend’s gaze.

“Hey, I’m not mad,” he says clearly, his expression softening. “I get it. I just can’t believe somebody would do that to you.” he looks away for a moment, almost as if contemplating whether or not to continue. “Do you think it was the real thing or just some stupid prank?

You laugh bitterly. “Yeah, real funny prank. And even if it was just a joke, they could see me, Mick. They knew what I was wearing, they used my name - they still could’ve hurt me.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen.” He says it gently but with undeniable force behind it as he leans over to cup your face. “I’d fucking kill them if they tried to lay a single finger on you.”

“My knight in shining armour,” you mutter, causing Mickey to smile and press his lips to yours. He’s gentle - like he has been throughout the rest of the night - as if he’s worried like you’ll fall apart at any second.

“I love you,” you murmur into the kiss, and you mean it. Ever since you’d started to get close to Mickey, he’d been your rock. You’d been inseparable a mere few weeks after meeting, once you got over his initial abrasiveness. Because once you really got to know him, he was a great friend -and an even better boyfriend.

“I know,” he replies, pulling away and settling for laying his head on your shoulder instead. “See, Star Wars reference!” he points out, gesturing to your - well, his - shirt. God, your boyfriend was such a nerd.“That was my favourite, by the way. Am I ever getting it back?”

“Nope,” you tease, popping the “p”. “I’m too attached.“ You absentmindedly run your fingers through his hair, twisting brown strands around your fingers.

“Damn it.” mickey says quietly, making a show of fake-pouting.

You both sit there in silence for a while, Mickey’s head still on your shoulder. It isn’t awkward - it never is with Mickey - and you both just lay there on the bed. You’re feeling better about the phone call you’d received earlier, but you can’t help but remain curious.

“Mickey?” you question. He hums in response and you go on.

“Do you think the caller would’ve gone through with it? With the threats, I mean?”

He lifts his head up to look at you, his expression near unreadable.

“What makes you ask that, baby?”

“I don’t know. It’s just-“ you sigh in frustration. “Why call me? I haven’t done anything to anyone, so why go through all of the effort to threaten me and scare me if he wasn’t gonna kill me? I mean, that guy in the movie theatre was stabbed through the head. This killer, he’s- he’s brutal. By that logic, I should be dead.”

“But you’re not,” Mickey says as he squeezes your hand. “Maybe he wanted to rile you up, make it so you would be constantly looking over your shoulder. Maybe he was just trying to live out his bullshit fantasies. Maybe he just was too much of a fucking pussy to do anything to you. Who knows?” he shrugs. “Point is, you’re still here, and that’s all that matters. You can’t let this sick fuck get to you, alright? You’re better than that, and it’s probably exactly what he wants.”

You sigh once more. Mickey’s right. Of course he is. There’s no point of pondering over all the “what if’s” now.

“Stay with me tonight?” you ask your boyfriend. “It’d make me feel better.”

“‘Course,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You know you’re safe here with me.”

“I do,” you affirm as you twist your body so that your head is on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat now, steady and strong. “You know I do.”

Mickey laughs once more before he laces his fingers with yours, his firm grip the last thing you feel before your eyes flutter closed and you start to drift off into sleep.





[theghostofashton]

wip wednesday

thank you to @carlos-in-glasses @heartstringsduet @lemonlyman-dotcom @alrightbuckaroo for the tags <3

it has been a super busy last week at work before the holidays for me, so have some more of the you saw the truth in me sequel that i wrote a while ago lol

“Babe? Hey, how’d the meeting go?” Carlos steps out of their ensuite, running his hands through his wet hair. He had clients all day, and was supposed to get home during TK’s meeting. TK had imagined joining him in his usual post-work shower, if the timing had worked out, only to realize that wouldn’t be happening when he heard the shower turn on a few minutes ago when Nancy was still talking. It’s not a big deal, but he’s barely seen Carlos in the last couple of days. “Good,” TK murmurs, stepping into Carlos’s space. Carlos’s hands come up to grip his waist and pull him in closer. He slides their lips together and presses into it, hands skating down Carlos’s shoulder blades. TK hooks his fingers into the fabric of Carlos’s tank-top and grips it lightly. “Hi,” he says, a little breathless, when they separate. “Hey,” Carlos whispers, hands still cupping his cheeks. “Missed you today.” “Missed you too,” TK responds. “Any thoughts about dinner?” Carlos asks. He strokes a thumb across TK’s jaw. “I was thinking we could order something.” “Perfect.” Sometimes Carlos cooks, and TK likes to sit at the island and watch, pepper him with questions about his day and tell him about his own. Carlos always seems interested, never like he’s just humoring TK. At first, TK used to watch for that, a shift in tone or an indication that something was off. He isn’t sure when he stopped doing it, when his brain shifted out of survival mode, when it became sure enough that Carlos was someone he could feel safe around.   “Thai?” TK nods eagerly. An hour later, they’re sitting in the living room with takeout containers spread across the coffee table. TK is using chopsticks to scoop noodles into his mouth, and Carlos is biting into a spring roll. He chews for a couple of seconds and then reaches for the accompanying sauce to dip the rest of the spring roll into. “Good?” TK asks, when he’s swallowed. Carlos nods, and TK holds out the container to him. Carlos passes him the box of spring rolls, and slides the little tub of sauce over to TK’s side of the table. “How’s Nancy?” TK chews what’s in his mouth before answering. “She’s good. She and Mateo are going away for the weekend, I think they’re going up to Lake Tahoe. They rented a cabin and everything.” “Oh, that’ll be nice,” Carlos says. “Paul and I took a couple trips up there a few years ago. It’s really pretty, they’ll love it.” There’s a sudden pang in his chest as Carlos is talking. Lake Tahoe. It’s beautiful. He’s heard so many good things from every one of his friends that’s been, but TK hasn’t gone yet. He had put it on an ever-lengthening list of things he wanted to do in California once he got a legit break, but that never happened. The list always seemed to keep growing, while his time off decreased and decreased. And once he was fired, he couldn’t bring himself to leave his house. He didn’t want to take the risk.

open tag!

[dylanmunson]

Eddie Munson / First time

18+

masterlist | wattpad | requests are open | eddie fic

i cant remember the last time i wrote smut? but i hope this is alright lol, and i picked eddie, cause although i dont mind writing fiction for joe this felt more right as an eddie fic. 

word count :2.5k 

/////////////

Eddie and I had just returned after our little date night, i say date night but it was really just a trip to the movies with steve and his 6 nuggets. Not that i minded, it was cute. I enjoyed our time together. Eddie opens the door to the trailer letting me walk in first, i sigh and sit on the sofa kicking my sofas off as eddie walks into the kitchen area. 

"whats up doll?" he says "huh?" "youve had this look on your face" he chuckles coming around the corner with a glass of water in his hand. "whatcha mean eds" i mumble. He smiles softly sitting next to me, hand on thigh moving my body to face his. "this look sweetness" he grins running his thumb along my jaw. "like concentrating but not" he says raising a brow "whats on your mind my love?" he mumbles kissing the back of my hand. 

I sigh and shrug "eds" i mumble he hums looking up at me "we've been together now for what like 3-4months?" i ask, he nods and kisses my hand again, pulling me into his lap. "the best 4 months of my life sweetness" he chuckles against my shoulder. "then why havent we had sex" i sigh covering my face. My cheeks going red, i pull away but eddie pulls me closer chuckling. "oh love" he grins kissing my forehead, then my hands which still cover my face. "sweetheart look at me" he grins, i peek through my fingers and the curly haired boy in front of me. 

Him pulling my body closer, so im now straddling his lap. "we, we havent had sex yet because" he smiles moving my hands away from my face, and intertwining our hands "cause i know its your very, very first time and i want you to be ready" he mumbles softly, kissing my nose. "i mean im not like a complete virgin" i mumble looking at where our clothed bodies meet. "i didnt wanna rush into anything sweetheart" he smiles, i sigh looking at the doe eyed boy. 

"and trust me, i wouldve bedded you long ago" he chuckles, i groan rolling my eyes "edward!" he chuckles "just wanted you to be ready" "well i am ready" i mumble, he smirks "yeah?" he mumbles moving his face closer to mine, i nod my head as our foreheads touch. "i need you to use your words love" he says "please eddie, want you so bad" i sigh, he grins putting his hand on the back of my neck and pulling me into for a kiss. 

Its hot and heavy, but still got some sweetness to it. He grins biting my bottom lip as i whimper, "sweetheart" he chuckles "please" i mumble, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him back in for a kiss. Running my hands through his curls, letting out a little moan, grinding down on him slightly. He grunts into the kiss moving his hands to my sides, then my bum giving it a little squeeze. When theres a banging at the door. "ignore it" i mumble, moving to kiss his neck lightly. But it carries on.

Sighing i get up and let eddie go get the door "what the hell you doing here henderson?" he sighs. 

Safe to say we did not get any further that night. 

///////

It was now the following friday, and the whole gang had made plans to go to dustins to play dnd. Eddie had said he could be dm for the next campaign and little henderson was over the moon. I groan rolling out of bed, and walking over to the phone, debating on cancelling the evening, not wanting to be sitting in anyones basement but rather curled up in bed with my boyfriend watching shitty films. and possibly more. 

I sigh and ring eddies home phone, twirling the phone cord inbetween my fingers as it rings. But theres no answer, i try a few more times and nothing. So i ring dustins home phone, knowing my nerdy other half is probably over there helping the young dm make sure everything is perfect for their game in a few hours. 

"hey whats up?" he says, grinning, i cant see him but i know hes grinning. "oh uh hey dusty" i sigh "hey you ok?" he says, his voice turning softer. "uh is eddie there?" "oh shit yeah of course. EDDIE!" he shouts. Theres fumbling of the phone and shouting before eddie picks up "hello eddie the banished speaking how can i help?" he chuckles. "eds" i mumble "baby whats wrong?" he stops, his tone dropping "i just.. i miss you" i shrug, he chuckles "baby your seeing me in like an hour" "i dont wanna" i mumble, sighing "not feeling good" i sigh closing my eyes. Squeezing my thighs together, i felt fine, i was just really fucking needy for my boyfriend. "oh my baby, whats wrong?" he sighs, i hear movement on the other line and i rub a hand over my forehead. "just achy" i shrug. "o-ok, two minutes alright?" he says, before hanging up, i groan and put the phone down. "fuck you then munson" I sigh and lay down on the bed again. 

Images of Eddie laying above me, kissing my neck and softly massaging my boobs run through my mind, i bite my lip and move my hand down to my clothed heat, rubbing myself a tiny bit. "fuck" i huff out "y/n are you ok hun?" my mum says knocking at the door. "umm yeah im fine" i say back, making myself decent as she walks in. "right well we're off out for the evening, see you later" she smiles, i nod waving good bye before i hear the door close and car drive away. 

//

"hey princess" i hear as i enter the hallway, snacks in hand. "eddie!" i grin running and jumping up into his arms, he chuckles wrapping his arms below my bum, "thought you werent feeling well huh?" he chuckles, i groan hiding in the crook of his neck "shhh" he chuckles kissing my head "missed yooouu" i say moving my face to his and kiss him. "missed you too baby" he mumbles, moving us to the living area laying me on the sofa. 

"is this what you wanted huh?" he grins, i nod pulling him down to kiss me again. Its hot and heavy and so god damn needy. "eddie, i- i need you" i say as he kisses my neck, "you sure?" i nod "please" i sigh, he nods "ok" he grins grabbing my hand and leading us upstairs. 

I jump on the bed pulling eddie close as i do, his jacket now long gone. He begins placing kisses on my cheeks and neck as i tug at the hem of his shirt. "off.. please" i sigh, he chuckles pulling it off in one swift movement, i grin biting my lip running my hands down his chest. Sure i'd seen him topless countless times but hes so god damn gorgeous. 

He comes back down to kiss me again, running a hand through his hair, trying to be as close as possible. Moaning into the kiss i buck my hips against his, making him grind against me "fuck" "so good sweetheart" he mumbles, moving to kiss at my neck again, biting a little but not enough to leave marks. 

I tugging at his belt, and he just chuckles "sweet" he grins unbuckling it and sliding them down his legs "now this isnt fair is it" he chuckles, i smile softly, now sitting on my knees facing the boy "i want you eddie munson" i sigh putting my arms around his neck "take me. have me. im yours" i sigh, he nods pulling me into for another kiss, his hands roaming down my body finding just above my underwear to rest. 

He pulls away and looks at me, i nod and grin "i trust you munson" i mumble kissing him again, he wastes no time in pulling them down and throwing them with the rest of the clothes, he moans against the kiss as he runs a finger between my folds, i moan quietly into the kiss as he does, making him chuckle. 

"You alright sweet pea" he grins pulling away and looking down at what he's doing, nodding my head i throw my head back as he adds another finger, collecting my juices before slowly rubbing at my clit. "use your words love" he says moving down the bed so his head is rested on my thigh, i moan running a hand through his hair as he does, his lips ghosting over my right thigh as he adds more pressure while rubbing my clit. "eddie please" i moan pulling on his hair softly, he chuckles "please what baby" he mumbles kissing my thigh, moving his fingers lower, pushing one into me "oh fuck" i sigh closing my eyes. 

He chuckles thrusting it slowly, "you like that?" he mumbles moving up and kissing below my ear, before adding another finger and kissing on my pubic bone, before licking from my entrance to my clit "fucking hell! yes eddie fuck" he chuckles against my clit, sucking on it while thrusting two fingers in and out slowly. The vibration from his laugh sending me over the edge "eds imma" i moan hums against my clit, his other hand moving to my thigh to give it a squeeze. "cum for honey" he says before going back to eating me out. "oh fuck" i sob, grabbing his hand and interlocking our fingers as i reach my high. 

Head thrown back, thighs squeezing the poor boys head, loud moaning escaping my mouth, he grins looking up at me, dribble down his chin, he quickly wipes it away with his arm, "so so good sweetheart" he grins "so proud of you" he mumbles, coming up to place soft kisses over my face. "ready for more?" he sighs taking my ear lobe inbetween his teeth. "please" i sigh, reaching down taking his cock in my hand and pumping it, he sighs leaning his head against my shoulder "oh baby" he grunts before moving my hand away. He chuckles shaking his head "all about you right now ok" he smiles, kissing my nose. "buuuut" he leans back on his feet and points a finger at me grinning. 

"now now" he chuckles, pumping his leaky cock a few times "you let me know if its to much alright?" he says i nod "words sweetheart, use your words" "yeah, please eddie, need you" i moan softly making grabby hands at the boy in front of me, he smirks before lining himself up at my entrance. "might hurt a little" he mumbles, pushing in slowly "ah" he nods placing his forehead on my shoulder, kissing the skin there, moving ever so slowly. "fuck" i moan as he begins filling me up, "wh-do-do you want me to stop?" he says looking at me with a hint of worry in his eyes. 

I shake my head "no, no just move" i smile putting my hand on the side of his face, "please, need you so bad" i grin, he nods pushing the last little bit of his thick cock into me, holding on to my right thigh and kissing me roughly. I buck my hips up to try get him to move, but he stops me placing his hands on my hips "whoa sweet pea" he chuckles. 

"ed, move" i grin at the boy "i dont wanna hurt you" he mumbles kissing my neck again "edddie please" i moan, grinding against his cock, biting his shoulder. "eddie please, fuck me" i sigh leaving a mark on his shoulder while grinding on him, the pleasure taking over "oh" i moan. 

He looks down at me, before kissing the middle of my neck, picking up my right right and lifting it slightly before slowly thrusting. "fuck eddie shit" i moan, putting my hands on his chest, he nods biting his lip looking down at where our bodys join concentrating. He moves my thighs so the back of them are touching his chest, before leaning down and kissing me roughly again, "sh-fuc-ah" i gasp, the tip of his cock reaching further than a second ago. "shiii" he grunts into the kiss. 

It full of heat, teeth and tongue. 

He places a hand on the headboard and the other on my hip, letting my thighs drop to wrap around his waist. "gonna cum for me sweetheart" he moans, dropping his forehead to mine, i nod "use yours words sweetheart" he groans, moving his hand that was on my hip to my clit to rub circles. "fucking shit ed" i moan, he chuckles "harder" i mumble, he nods thrusting harder a tad bit faster. "fuck fuc" i moan, head thrown back eyes closed as i hit my high, legs tightening around the boy as he fucks me into next week. Eddie following soon after, him falling ontop of me soon after, our bodies still connected, but not bothered. 

His limp cock still in me, stopping all the thick cum from dripping from my fucked cunt. 

He places his head on my chest, running his fingers up and down my arm, i grin kissing his head "shit eds" i giggle, he chuckles looking up at me "what?" he grins "that was fucking hot, can i ride you next time" I feel his cock move in side of him, "oh" i grin down at him, he grins his cheeks turning red. "i love you eddie munson" i mumble kissing his forehead, he nods slowly moving out of me "ah" i sigh at the lose of body contact, as he gets up grabbing a towel and cleaning us up, "and i love you" he mumbles kissing my hips as he finishes cleaning up the mess we made. "mhmm" i sigh as he blows cool air on my abused cunt. "sensitive sweetheart"  he smirks before laying beside me, pulling me into his side. "i love you y/n /yl/n" he nods. "should pretend to be sick more often" he chuckles "oh shit, you had" he grins kissing me. 

"so fucking worth it" he chuckles "would miss dnd with those losers any night for this" he chuckles, "im so in love with you eddie munson" i sigh "and i you" he grins kissing my nose.

[marvelouslytrekking]

Roommate Advice

Pairing: Kate/Yelena/Reader Summary: You call Clint for some advice about your two roommates. But things go a little differently then planned when they both come back sooner then expected Word Count: 788 A/N: This is for @xxxtwilightaxelxxx from a secret prompt list that I posted literally forever ago! I have finally found some motivation to write! Writing Yelena was a bit intimidating so that is why she had the least lines lol but either way, hope you enjoy this!! (Apologies for always taking forever to write drabble requests)

“Hey Clint!” You smiled when you saw his face pop up on the facetime call. You were glad that he had decided to call you when you sent the ‘I need advise asap’ text to him.

“Hey kid, what’s going on?” He asked. “Is Kate burning down the kitchen and you need to know how to convince her to stop trying to cook?”

“Ha. ha.” You rolled your eyes, though while he was obviously teasing, he wasn’t far off. You and Yelena had very quickly banned her from making anything more complicated than grilled cheeses within the first month of being roommates. “Yelena and I solved that awhile ago. This is a little more, personal?”

“Oh you know, it looks like Lila needs me, I think I got to go.”

“Clint, please I am dying over here and need some advise!” You plead with him. You weren’t sure why you decided to go to Clint with your love life problems but you had no idea who else to go to.

“Fine, but why aren’t you going to Kate or Yelena? They are your best friends.” He questioned.

“Yes, that is true but it kind of involves them.” You sighed.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, so, god I don’t know how to say this… I think I am in love with them.” You rushed out the last part. Glad to get it off your chest but also not fully sure how Clint would react.

“You’re in love with them?” You watched as Clint processed what you had just told him. It wasn’t judgment in his eyes, but he was definitely working through something in his mind. “Now that I am thinking about it, it’s pretty obvious. I think they both feel the same thing. I just wrote it off as you all just being attached at the hip friends, but i think it’s definitely more than that. I think you should just tell them.”

“I can’t do that.” You barely let him finish his sentence. “I'm worried, that if we go there…. things might never be the same. What if they don’t feel the same way? You know how hard finding roommates in this city is?”

“Why did you bother calling me if you weren’t going to take my advice that you so desperately wanted.”

“I don’t know. Maybe I wanted you to tell me I was crazy for being in love with not one but two of my best friends and that I needed to get over it or I’d ruin our friendship.” You sighed, realizing how ridiculous you sounded.

“Wait, which best friends are you in love with?” You felt your heart drop to your feet as Kate’s voice rang out behind you.

“I- I thought you had class for another hour.” You stutter out, hoping to change the subject.

“Just tell her the truth, I got to go” Clint told you before hanging up.

“My class let out early. What truth is he talking about?” Kate asked, a bit confused as to why you were telling Clint something that she didn’t know.

“It’s nothing.” You tried.

“It doesn’t feel like nothing, especially if you thought to call Clint about it.” She frowned, “You’re in love with someone and won’t tell me who?”

“It you.” You sighed, deciding trying to hide it may be worse than just telling the truth “And Yelena.”

“And listen, I know that’s a lot and it’s kinda weird and we have just started to feel super comfortable in our weird and chaotic friendship so if you don’t feel the same, or Yelena doesn’t or whatever, I will forget it and we can just pretend that I never said anything.” You rushed out before she had a chance to respond.

“You’re in love with me?!” She stuttered out, “And Yelena? Oh thank god, I was starting to think I was the weird friend who had fallen in love with both her roommates and was definitely going to slip up and say it eventually.”

“Who is in love with their roommates?” Yelena said as she had just entered the apartment.

“We are,” You and Kate said at the same time before giggling at the face of shock the turned into a smile from your favorite Russian.

“Oh you both finally decided to admit it!”

“Wait, are you trying to say you’ve known?” You asked, taken aback.

“Duh, I am a spy, you are both so adorably obvious.” She rolled her eyes as she hung her coat up.

“You didn’t think to, I don't know, tell us?” Kate huffed.

“No. It was cute watching you both.” She smiled.

“So you feel the same?” You asked hopefully.

“Somehow, yes” She smiled. Both Kate and yourself immediately matched her smile.

[fella-lovin-fella]

Hey! My ask wasn't really answered late, no worries! I wanted to give an update on how my Christmas went with my bf because he just left a couple hours ago. It was the best I've had since I was a little kid For Sure, without any doubt. He came over the night of the 24th and just left the night of the 26th. He was super nervous to meet my family on Christmas, but surprisingly relaxed and was able to hang out really well with everyone! We even started playing games and he picked them all up super quickly. Then we went to the musical that night and he asked the waiter if he could move his seat to be right next to mine instead of across from me. Then during any intermissions and right after the play ended he would put his arm around me and basically stare at me with heart eyes the whole time. Oh and the presents he got me were the sweetest I've ever gotten! He got me a big crockpot and a silly wooden stirring spoon with Nic Cage's face because I really like cooking. And a keychain that says "What we have once enjoyed we can never lose". And, probably my favorite, a notebook with a waterlily (my birth month flower) with my name, and inside he wrote "To my Loki, someone I've met and feel like I've known forever". He also sang me some really sweet love songs, including our song "Cigarette Daydreams", which was the first time he was able to sing to me without having to close his eyes from nervousness too. Today we had a ton of fun watching movies and he showed me one of his favorite video games. One movie we watched was The Princess Bride, and he said that he would be my Westley and has started saying "as you wish" when I ask him for things sometimes. And when I was cooking him some extra food to take with him (I always make him take lots of my cooking lol, today he got 4 tupperwares full) he started singing me "only fools rush in" and started slow dancing with me in the kitchen. He kept asking me when he could come see me again, and I started joking that while he's a golden retriever boyfriend he was acting like a puppy with separation anxiety, and he agreed and said that he would follow me anywhere if I let him. And when we were waiting for his uber to come pick him up he put his arm around me and kinda subconsciously grabbed a handful of my coat and just kinda held onto it until the car came. He said it was the best Christmas he's had ever, and I'm hopefully going to see him again next week!

stop that is so fucking sweet im gonna cry. that's love. hold on to him bestie. (also GREAT taste with the song and The Princess Bride! top faves)

[weilaverdui]

Game Development endeavours

(Character art by HV_Micha, background by me) So, a couple months ago, Micha wrote me: "Hey, there is a BL game jam going on, would be fun to join! We were joking before about doing something this summer with Kirian, but never went further. I answered: "Sure, call Kir, and let's start". Micha was "I was joking, unless..." That's how we found ourselves making a visual novel. The first idea that came up was "VAMPIRES" (because pirates and vampires are the pillars of queer creativity, lol). The problem? Among us three I kinda have some narrative skills, but not nearly enough. Enters glorious, amazing @masterofrecords . Gods bless them, since they worked well into the late night to give us a HUGE chunk of text that a visual novel needs. I am kinda sorry for pulling you into that. Micha is a god of art. Every character art was amazing from the first concept, and it was a delight to work with such a professional. (He also knows how to make the interface look good, unlike me). Kirian managed to get a grasp on Godot and do some magic with the dialogue system. Logic is the hardest part, so I am in awe. (Also, was pretty cool to work on code together with someone). Interface coding was uneventful, but backgrounds... Oh boy. My artstyle is too rough to fit well with Micha's, so I decided to pull Julia from Drawfee. AKA, remember how to use blender. I am very proud of library (I dreamt to make a gothic building in 3d for a long time, and I consider making a more complex vault shape an achievement) and of greenhouse (since it required a lot of figuring things out). We finished 2 hours before deadline. There are things we did not have time for. Nevertheless, it was a wonderful learning opportunity. Making a finished game in an amazing team, solving the problems... Loved it, but need a rest now. And a drink.

[hideyseek]

6. 10, 11? For ur ao3 wrapped? Mehabs?

(im on mobile if something is weird. No it isnt)

bro ,,,,, im so sorry to report something was weird, i only saw this guy come in today he was not in my inbox before. apology for delay. but hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii yes thank you for the ask!!!!! of course i will answer i love to fucking TALK hehe :3

ao3 wrapped asks

6. Favorite title you used?

mmmm hehe. i'm gonna answer this based purely on title vibes as opposed to like "how well the title fits the fic" bc i wrote a bunch of shorter (to me) fics without a lot of internal thematic happenings that a title could reflect and so i don't really think of anything i published that a title is doing very much work.

i think my favorite title of anything published this year is i wish you the wind just because ah ... what a phrase! no idea what this means but it sounds so damn romantic to me! really has a flavor of like ... bittersweet farewell!

10. What work was the quickest to write?

mmm, haha. well, two answers to this i suppose. on one hand, there was keep me here which unfortunately i wrote in about one day from nothing (and therefore had approximately 12 minutes to revise) because i was determined to post SOMETHING for that day of kaze week 2023. but the first fic that came to mind (and perhaps the most accurate answer, time-wise) was my drabble from week 2 of inception wicked which came together in about three hours total drafting, but there was a span of several days (and truthfully several days that felt like several weeks lol) between me initially having the idea and sitting down to draft. but like, to be fair, it is about 400 words so revising goes exponentially quicker. truly this shocked even me, though i guess really what this means is i already was primed with a bunch of subconscious thoughts about the dynamic in this fic lol. (you can read it here on the gdoc with the other fics from that week! bc i haven't gotten around to posting on ao3 yet lol. content warnings for: semi-explicit sexual content, fantasizing about a married couple, voyeurism)

11. What work took you the longest to write?

hmm ... i don't know if there's a winner for anything i published, tbh. most of the rest of the kaze week fics from january kind of came together in a span of 3-5 days depending on the fic, and most of the other drabbles for both events came together in about the alotted week. so instead i'm going to gleefully misinterpret this question so i can talk about my beloved unpublished nemesis project, narrative!fic :3

i hate that guy! (<- said extremely lovingly) i probably earnestly worked on this fic for ... 4 or 5 months of this year? had a nice breakthrough for some story logic in august / september ish, outlined from that through october, and wrote pretty diligently for most of november. (i did tell my roommate fully two years ago, "hey you need to watch kazetsuyo so i can make you betaread this fic i'm writing at the end of the year, i'll watch star trek with you in exchange". that was literally 2021 lmao. they have not yet seen a draft bc there has not been a draft worth having anybody else look at yet.)

i think the thing that has made the process of drafting narrative!fic so long is really just that, for the last two-ish years, narrative!fic wasn't actually a story to me, so much as it was a project into which i dumped all my post-college facing-the-future feelings and loosely tied up with a string called "i'm sure i can make haiji go through this as well". but then, due to various life events in april of this year, suddenly i came back to the draft and it was like: oh. ohhh, okay. i can see how this can be a story, actually. this is about haiji, as a character, as opposed to haiji, as a semi-direct proxy for myself. and then over the next few months i cut out a ton of stuff and reworked his main arc and now it's like ... a story, instead of just a bunch of feelings and events. which, truly, is only my personal marker for what i was looking for from the project. like, i personally want a separation of my own experiences from what is in my fic, i want to be thinking about developments in the fic as narrative choices the story requires rather than as alternatives to how my own life could have gone. (which ultimately may well be the same thing but its the headspace im in, for me).

and i think the other part is just -- i didn't know how to write! i mean, obviously i know how to string words into a sentence lol. but a LOT of i guess the first two years of drafting and then setting all the drafted stuff aside to start again from scratch like four times over, was me learning to like, figure out my own longfic writing process. (big sobbing emoji, lmao. i remember in my youth reading about maggie stiefvater having 200k of unused draft material for one of the trc books and i was like, how??? and now i am like: yeah. unfortunately i get it. not that my tossed-out drafter material is of that specific magnitude. but there is a lot of it, goddamn.) and now that i've got at least an initial / foundational sense of it, the hardest part is only actually sitting down and writing. (i say as if this is not also, extremely challenging for me lol). so uh, i guess i'll say here "maybe this time next year i'll really have a full draft of narrative!fic", and. we'll see how that goes :3

[breakersmansh]

June 17, 2023 / 17 Ògmhios 2566 EB

Hey dude and everyone, how was your day? Happy holiday coming up this weekend. Someone at the beach says there’s a holiday this weekend. Enjoy :) 🫂🙂👋 oh, and then Juneteenth is Monday? I I didn’t know what Juneteenth was until college. Texas thing that became a national holiday—wild.

Weather in Chicago is .

My dad doesn’t talk to me very much ever since an awkward Christmas in 2020. There were a couple of Jews at BYU. Inhale, exhale. He’s sick though and I need to remember to call his name into the Boston Mass temple. She’s the temple who makes the most sense to me right now. Southern New England is a place very home to me. Among people, I think a lot about this guy named Noah Steinman. Noah Boah. Just this guy from middle school. Him and his friend MegN Meg in Connecticut. Ice ive I’ve mostly been to East Hartford and to Old Saybrool k Saybrook way in the southeastern corner, to go to Wells Fargo. Sometimes I cry out, "Noah!" "Trusty!" Richard Bushman says in Rough Stone Rolling that Noah is the archangel Gabriel or somethhi b something — he has this one paragraph where he lists out seven archangels. Is this Columbia tomfoolery, or sonethi even something even more dark and disturbing within Utah history? What would my life have been like if I had gone to Bowdoin? One of my childhood best friends, Ethan, went to—he says I don’t remember the name of his college. Our most recent convo was great. Over a year ago but great. He was posting an Instagram story of himself sitting in traffic and I told myself a joke that he was filming porn lol. Sitting in traffic and bragging about how he kicked his boyfriend out. Lol it was he was hot. Sitting in traffic on the way to a ski resort. Hard to explain why I would call that porn. I just — I mentioned that Idaho has a ski basin called Bogus Basin, and he expressed annoyance. I used to say this phrase while living in Idaho — "and the Catholics in North Idaho are so annoyed that [we] changed the time zone to an entirely separate time zone to distinguish ourselves from the rest of the state." Pulled from F. Ross Peterson’s history of Idaho. He wrote a cool book called Christmas in Montpelier. Montpelier was about an hour east of where I lived in southern Idaho. Small town Idaho. Hm. I re — I’ve told enough stories. My neighbor Molly and her husband were very great neighbors. Me, them, and a woman from my high school named Jill, celebrated a Jewish holiday called Tubishevat together in 2021. The New Year for Trees.

I need to think about where whether that phrase is anti-Catholic. A few sentences up, about changing the time zone. Cause North Idaho is in PacificTime and the rest of Idaho is in Mountain Time. She was a fun phrase to say; that phase was entirely before I met Reap though. There are Facebook groups called "Moving to North Idaho" and such. I was sad that I lived in Southern Idaho, and one of my friends from BYU made sure to police me. She hasd had a rough experience at BYU. Maybe going on a date w/ me was one of the more uplifting parts. I almost made him to North Idaho.

I had a pretty peaceful Saturday. Wandered around the city a bunch. Practiced some DVT DBT skills. Found a Modelo beer can, Kurt’s fav beer brand five years ago, by the beach. Picked her up to either recycle her or keep her as a memento. With the way I’m using him/her/they/them instead of it, when possible, makes me think about how most words in French are gendered. I was supposed to do this speech therapy gender-affirming clinic, although he seems like I’m somewhat figuring her out on my own.

Said hello to the ladies a lot today, and they were really fun to talk to. Other hangers Gen genders as well.

My staffer at the pizza shop was sad.

I thought of writing a Wikipedia article about this Prep Tumblr phenomenon I keep talking about. This group from 201-

2012-2015 or so on Tumblr. I’m probably gonna invite my friends C (Chrissy) and A(Alexandria) as well. So funny. They were on Tumblr with me—I bet some of you were on Prep Tumblr too or Tumblr Tumblr. There was a woman named phdprep who both kept me willing to get out of bed, during the toughest parts of college, and also directly inspired my fashion choices when I got a job at Utah State University. I remember one night she kept prodding and prodding and liking my posts until she knew I was willing to keep trying— that’s a behavior mentioned on r/raisedbynarcissists and I think it’s true that peers motivati no and motivating and supporting each other feels different from child psychology. Right now, certain — there was also this dude drink the talk / drinkthentalk/ imactuallyagoodkid. Catholicboysintrouble needs to and maybe will get a full page to itself. It’s cool how just browsing the internet you can learn a bunch. 50starsand13bars, which inspired the first subreddit I became a mod of. If ppl ar e not interested in Prep Tumblr, there’s so much to say about Tumblr or internet culture in general. You know how Wikipedia articles have hyperlinks within them to other stuff? Other topics include porn on Tumblr, Yahoo’s CEO and her optimistic attempts to buy Tumblr, and much else that anyone else may want.

Reaper, Scurius, ifoundxaway, bythepalemoonlight, and anyone else interested are deffy welcome

For broey, if this is the last chance I get. Love you platonically. My Tumblr is named after a mansion in Rhode Island called The Breakers — breakersmansh. It’s she’s a little raunchy. My posts will be there if you want or need to take Reddit for Men to the next level. I’m here with you in solidarity.

I’m stoked to go to bed. Have a gentle Sunday or fun Sunday, whatevski. Mine will be gentle. My head hurts, in a good way.

Kurt and I had gotten into a mild argument at the dinner table—Taco Tuesday, Cameron’s favorite—about whether he should drink and drive. He won the argument, and I still remember the brand name of that beer, Modelo, to this day. We had this inside joke called Park City Gentlemen’s Club, and I passed a Gentlemen’s Club while I was wandering the city today—realized how much better our club was. Lots of better memories w/ Reap this past year too.

It is checking hecking chilly in this city. Hope tou had you had a good day. Love you, good night. I’m planning to post daily. Sometimes for Jewish holidays I might abstain, or when I’m in the hospital, jail (gosh forbid), or on a cruise ship with no internet or something. This year I learned why some people observe Passover by taking the whole 7 or 8 days off of work. It’s because he’s because Jewish life can be exhausting. Stoked for Cath Sab. 😍🥰😍🥳 Seems like ppl are gonna use biolenvd, violence, emotional pressure, and logical arguments, to keep Judaism alive one way or other after the Holocaust. G-d judges; who am I to judge?

I wore Nike and she felt great. Nike blue shorts that smell like butt, and that was refreshing. Some Elon Musk in my life, lol. Taking a break from Abercrombie Fierce for a while. Kurt worked at te the Nike store. I didn’t mention that because she’s a minor detail. There was a big outlet mall, like Wrentham or the other one that starts with a W, and many stores to choose from. Considering becoming a Nike person; Nike worked great for CrossFit. Maybe to wear Nike around too. I’m wearing a Ralph Lauren long sleeve grey tee from Wrentham that coat coat cost like $12 or $20 bucks. They have all kinds of discounts. I remember from that day, August 2022, just talking to the staffers there and searching hard for what I wanted. I bought a rugby shirt that ended up being a source of warmth and comfort during the rough Rhode Island winter—Reaper was right, winters near there are rough. So many of the concepts I tried to enact as a teenager, fashion wise are coming together now, and that’s awesome. A lot of my teenage fashion was clumsy and awkward for numerous reasons.

Good night. Happy holiday. Hope your Sundays are great. Love

Gonna read one chapter from the Book of Mormon. I think I’m on 1 Nephi 6. Or 1 Nephi 3. This read through will be very slow and painful for multiple reasons. Ppl are invited to read with me if you want. She’s ultimately just a banned book, like many books on the Index Library Prohibitorum. Banned books are kind of a librarian value, although right now I’m actually scared to even go inside public libraries. I went to public libraries a bunch during the pandemic though. University libraries are my fav, followed — are my fav. Go figure. Slainte

If I did go inside a public library, I would want to read Angels in America because I think it he would help me refine my intellectual conclusions about the epistemology of Utah psychiatry. The Hercules Disney movie would probably accomplish a similar effect. I don’t know exactly what Angels I’m A In America is about. Just—just—I know the book is vaguely thematically relevant to what Utah psychiatry is about. Not referring to the grandfather figure saying "show me you can behave!!!!!!!" which makes me laugh so hard. His commentary. You can laugh about hos his sex joke and find comic relief from Utah, or you can think about fundamentalist polygamous groups in Utah where the grandfather has sex with his granddaughter—perhaps that’s only Warren Jeffs. I’m grateful to Reap for helping me with many stuff and just also adding complexit y to my psychiatry opinions. 👋🙂🏈

Of course, Michel Foucault ‘a ‘s commentary on psychiatry: History of Sexuality: Discipline and Punish. I remember being so shocked at age 18 that no one in psychiatry had read that book. Swirls on me and good preview of my entire adulthood, lol. My entire adulthood so far at least :)

Nite ☘️ miss you, hope you had a rad day, if not hope tomorrow gets better. Available to be decked or spoken to :)

[thisisawonderfulusername]

broken plans

natasha romanoff, yelena belova x sister!reader

requested by: anon

summary: when your friend doesn't keep up with your plans, your sisters are there for you to make you feel better.

warnings: jerk friend that makes you sad :( but sisters who make it better :D

word count: 566

a/n: i hope this is okay! i kind of just wrote as it came to me, and i think it turned out alright lol.

you sit on the couch, phone held to your ear as your leg bounces anxiously. the ringing feels like it’s going for hours.

“your call has been forwarded to voicemail.” you groan at the automated message the plays, “no one is available to take your call. at the tone, please record your message.”

a long beep plays and you let your head rest in the palm of your hand, eyes shutting. “hey, it’s y/n. uhm… where are you? i thought you were coming-” you look at the clock, sighing, “an hour ago.”

shaking your head, you lean back against the cushions, “just call me back. please.”

with the press of a button, you hang up the call to toss your phone on the coffee table in front of you.

it’s your birthday, and your best friend- who you made these plans with weeks ago, wasn’t answering your calls. you were supposed to go out together for dinner, maybe some drinks, then come back to your place to watch some movies.

but they aren’t here. the time you agreed on was five. you had gotten ready at three-thirty, excited for the evening ahead of you. but they aren’t here.

when there’s a knock at the door, your eyes shoot towards it. maybe that’s them.

you hop up from the couch, almost running to the door before opening it.

a cake is held in yelena’s hands as she holds a giddy grin on her face. “happy birthday!”

despite the disappointment that your friend didn’t actually show up, you let a small smile grace your face. “hey.” you look between your two sisters, “you remembered?”

natasha’s eyebrows furrow, “of course we remembered.” you let them step into the apartment, watching as yelena places the cake on your table.

“how could we ever forget our wonderful sister’s birthday?” her arms find their way around your waist so she can give you a bone crushing hug. she then notices your outfit, how you had sort of dressed up. “do you have plans?”

you look down at yourself, “i did.” a soft but bitter chuckle escapes you, “i guess my friend forgot, though.”

a frown finds its way to both of their faces. “what do you mean they forgot?” natasha questions.

“well, there’s not a whole lot that that could mean.” you shrug as you shift your weight between your feet.

shaking her head, yelena shuts the door. “forget about them, then. you have us. and we brought cake!” she points to the dessert that had not gone unnoticed.

it was obvious that they had made it. the frosting was messy and there was ineligible writing on the top, spelling out what you would assume to be happy birthday.

you nod, a genuine smile now spreading across your face. “it looks delicious. thank you.”

natasha clears her throat, “how about you change into something more comfortable. we can make some drinks, have some dinner.”

“and eat the cake!” yelena makes sure that it is not forgotten.

“and eat the cake.” your other sister repeats.

you look down at the floor, “thank you guys. truly.”

“it’s what sisters do!” yelena goes in for another hug, motioning for natasha to join, “come, come.”

following instructions, natasha wraps her arms around the both of you. “oh, this is so nice.” yelena sighs.

you think this might be better than the plans that fell through.

taglists

main: @horrorklaus @megasimpleplan4ever

marvel: none yet

natasha romanoff: none yet

yelena belova: none yet

[yanderememes]

Solitary Love Chapter 1 (Yandere Giorno x Reader)

Hey yall! So I finally wrote my first fic 😳. Yikes. What a weird feeling. I'm somewhat proud of how it turned out but also nervous haha. Consider this my 1k follower gift 🎉. I really do appreciate all the love and support yall have given me since I started this blog many months ago. I love doing this and love talking with you all about my favourite anime, Jojo! ❤️ As long as you guys are here, I'll be here.

I'm by no means a writer and I do feel like I have a lot to improve on but it's all a learning process. This is a project I've been wanting to do for a while now. So if you're a fan of Yan!Giorno + chaptered fics + slow burn, then you're in for a treat! The first few chapters are gonna be boring though ngl, cuz I have to set up the stage for the more juicy chapters later on 😢

I would love to hear your thoughts on this project (even though it's only chapter 1 lol) and any feedback/comments you guys have to improve my writing or mistranslations on Italian (plz be nice tho, I'm a sensitive little bitch 😅).

This story takes place post-part 5 where Giorno is a 22-year-old Mafia Don. This story is a female reader x Giorno.

Special shoutout to @nanasparadise for inspiring me to publish my first fic 🥰

“They sure are late. Mista and Fugo.”

Giorno had been waiting here for almost half an hour. It was a long day and Giorno was about ready to go home. It was already night time and of course, it had to rain while he was waiting for his ride. Today he had to deal with more drug dealers trying to sell under his turf. Most likely from rival gangs. Usually, Giorno wasn’t the one who would go out on missions. He has plenty of men who could do it for him but he wanted to make an example out of the drug dealers. To show current and potential rival gangs what will happen to them if they try to sell under his territory.

What was taking them so long? Just when he was about to call them, his phone rang.

Speak of the devil.

“Sorry GioGio, got caught in traffic. I don’t know when we’ll be there” Fugo explained

“It’s a Friday night, after all,~” Mista added in the background

“I’ll call you when we’re here”

Not knowing when Fugo and Mista would arrive, Giorno decided to walk around the area to help kill some time. He came across a convention center.

It was 8 PM though. He doubted if it was still open but the light was still illuminated from the windows, so it must be open. Giorno was right as he was able to open the door to the convention center and walked right in.

Upon his little stroll around the convention center hallways, Giorno came across a wall of posters about the events that would take place today.

ComicCon. STAR Dancing. Cybersecurity & Tech. National Women’s Show.

But one poster, in particular, caught his eye.

The Psychological Association. To be discussed: childhood trauma, Stockholm syndrome, the art of persuasion, factors to long-lasting relationships, and more. 6 PM - 8 PM. Room 301B.

Giorno was always somewhat intrigued about psychology. The topics sounded worthwhile, and by the looks of it, a great way to spend time waiting for his ride.

Making his way down to room 301B, he quietly entered. Not a single sound was made since it appeared no one noticed his presence. The room was full and he walked in in the middle of a presentation. Giorno decided to stand beside the door, his back leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, bringing his attention to the speaker on the stage.

“... L'analisi dei dati ha evidenziato- (the data analysis showed-)”

Oh? Were you a foreigner? Based on your pronunciation, you sounded like one.

The way you spoke was very practiced. You didn’t speak Italian fluently and the tone wasn’t as elegant. Instead, it sounded like you practiced your speech over and over again until it was all ingrained in your memory. Like a robot retrieving their data.

Giorno stood and watched the rest of your presentation, consuming all the information you laid out.

***

“... Grazie per avermi ascoltato (Thank you for listening).” you thanked the audience and concluded your presentation.

He watched as you walked off the stage and scurried back to your group of friends who were cheering you on at the corner. They were praising you with toned downed excitement due to the professionalism here.

Giorno spent the remaining time watching the other presentations until the entire conference came to a close. Pulling his hands out of his pocket, he looked at his gold watch on his left wrist to check the time.

9:03 PM.

It’s been an hour and they’re still not here? How bad was traffic?

He pulled his head back and gave a huge sigh.

Composing himself, Giorno’s eyes landed on your figure. He remembered your presentation even if he wasn’t there for the first half. But your work was interesting. Probably the most entertaining one of the whole night. Though some of the information seemed vague which led him to more questions.

His thirst for knowledge persuaded Giorno to walk up to you. You were alone, thank God. It’d be awkward if your friends were there while he’s trying to get some answers out of you. Giorno prefers to talk to people one-on-one rather than in large groups.

“Buonasera” he greeted.

“Buonasera.”

Giorno thought he should speak to you in English. From his observations earlier, speaking Italian with you wouldn’t serve any use if you didn’t understand. “You did the presentation on the effects of childhood trauma and eating disorders correct? Very interesting work you have.”

You were taken aback by this stranger’s sudden English but you suppose he’s being mindful that you’re a foreigner. At least you can have a decent conversation if he’s speaking English. You weren’t confident in your Italian.

“Grazie. It was for my thesis. I worked long and hard on it. Had many sleepless nights. Living off nothing but coffee and energy drinks” you chuckled at your end remark. Bringing back stressful nights you’ve had to work on your thesis.

Giorno chuckled at your remark too. “I believe it was worth it, no? You had interesting findings and made great points that contribute to your field.”

“That’s true. But I would rather be sleeping on my nice, warm, comfy bed than writing a 50-page thesis.”

“I can’t deny that.” Sleep does sound wonderful. Giorno couldn’t wait to go home and finally get some rest. Being a mafia Don isn’t an easy job. He’s had many sleepless nights himself. He can sympathize with your feelings. But enough of that, time to say what he really came here for.

“I actually had some follow-up questions about your thesis. Mind answering them?”

“Ask away.”

***

“Wow. You seem to know a lot about plants. Did you go to school to study them?”

“I actually never finished school. Everything I know is from my own leisure time in reading.”

You give a lighthearted laugh, thinking that he’s joking and acting like a smartass. No way he’s so knowledgeable about botany from just reading books in his spare time.

But Giorno didn’t laugh with you. His face remained blank and unreadable.

“Wait. You’re serious? You never finished school?”

“Very serious.”

“Oh…” is all you could say. This man was full of surprises. You weren’t sure if your response was because you were shocked at his intelligence or became numb to it.

After this man had approached you and started asking questions about your work, the conference room got loud and it was hard to decipher what each of you was saying. Opting for a quieter location, the two of you left the conference room, where you sat by the nearby staircase. At first, it was like a Q&A. He would ask the questions, you would answer. Eventually, the conversation began branching out to other related topics and before you knew it, you were conversing like you two had known each other for a long time.

Speaking of which. You didn’t grab his name yet. You’ve been talking for a while and not once did it come across either of you to formally introduce yourselves.

“By the way, what’s your-”

“y/n! Time to go! The professor is calling us back.” just as you are about to ask this stranger for his name, your friend interrupted you

“Okay, I’m coming”

You stood up and started walking away but not without waving goodbye to the blonde man with a smile. “Buonanotte”

Oh well. You didn’t learn his name but you doubt you would ever see him again so it’s not a big deal.

“Buonanotte signora.” Giorno smiled back and waved as you disappeared from his sights.

Just then, Giorno felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Looking at the caller ID, it was Fugo. Looks like it was time for Giorno to take his leave too.

***

On the ride home, Giorno couldn’t stop thinking about you and replaying the conversation you two had on the staircase. It was the first time he was ever so engrossed in a conversation with someone before. Oddly enough, he felt safe. Like he didn’t have to play the role of Don Giovanna, Italy’s underground boss, the strongest stand user. He was just Giorno. He could be himself with you.

How strange. What a strange feeling this is. He doesn’t quite know how to describe it.

Intrigued? You were certainly a unique individual. And he’s met quite a number of “unique” people in his bizarre world. But most of these “unique” people he would meet were either already his allies or buried 6 feet under the ground.

He doubts you’re a stand user, but who knows? You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. Maybe you are one? That would probably explain the attraction. Stand users attract other stand users.

But regardless of whether or not you’re a stand user. You were still different. Giorno wanted to know more about you. You’re just so fascinating. His fatigue seemed to have diminished when he started talking to you. He forgot he was tired. Probably because the conversation was stimulating enough to energize him?

Giorno isn’t one you would call a social butterfly. He acts the part because the role of Don calls for him to be one. But the real him isn’t so extroverted. He can get tired from social events and they’re just so draining. That’s why it was strange to him how he conversed with you for so long. It wasn’t awkward like how most first meetings are. A lot of what he said came out naturally and effortlessly, and you were very receptive. Bouncing a lot of ideas with him and accepting his character.

Whatever the case may be, some unprecedented motivation sparked within him.

He wants to meet you again.

Fugo pulled up on the driveway of Giorno’s villa where several men in suits and butlers were neatly lined up waiting for his arrival.

The man standing in the middle of the line, named Antonio, walked up to the limo where Giorno was in and opened the car door. Almost instinctively, Antonio greeted the Don when he stepped out of his limo.

“Welcome home, Don.” Antonio bowed.

Giorno did not reply. He didn’t move from the spot where he was standing. Antonio couldn’t shut the car door because the Don was standing in the way.

Antonio could tell something was off. The Don is an efficient man. He would never waste time just standing there. Even in his “spare time,” the Don always had something to do. But for whatever reason Giorno was just standing there like he was in deep thought.

Antonio knew better than to ask. It wasn’t any of his business. Nor did the Don have any obligation to tell a simple henchman his problems. Never speak unless spoken to. That was the rule many had to follow when working for Don Giovanna.

“Antonio.” Giorno finally spoke.

“Yes, Don.”

“Provide me with all the information you can find on f/n. I want the report in by tomorrow morning.”

“I will have the report ready for you, sir.”

Giorno only nodded in response and began walking towards his front door.

The night certainly did not end the way he thought it would. But he’s not complaining. It was a pleasant surprise. The day started off horribly when he found out there were drug dealers roaming around his turf, but the night made up for it. He was more than satisfied with how his night ended. The drug dealers have been dealt with and he met someone new.

Was this fate? If Fugo and Mista weren’t caught up in traffic then Giorno may have never encountered you in that conference hall.

No. He must be overthinking it. You two only just met. He’ll probably get over it once he reads the report tomorrow.

But little did both you and Giorno know that this was only the beginning of a darker path.

[blessedlance]

pretty baby.

[r18+]

[wc:] 4k

[cw:] sub!atsumu, softdom!reader, femdom, oral (f. receiving), riding, pegging, mommy kink, puppy kink, minor dacryphilia, collar-play, restraints

! haikyuu manga timeskip spoilers. atsumu is 24. !

a/n: oh my god i haven’t written for leisure in literally 10 years i hope this is bearable LOL. @luvsicksubs​ wrote a lil tidbit about sub!atsumu a while ago and i have not known peace ever since so big thank you to ari for the inspo! pls enjoi :9

Atsumu’s been gone lately. A lot.

 Too much.

 You know it’s not his fault. The Jackals' practices have been brutal lately. So when Atsumu does eventually trudge his way back to your shared apartment every evening, he can only muster up enough energy to shower and collapse into bed. You’ve had to wake him more than once, chiding him to get up and at least dry his hair before bed.

“You can’t afford to get yourself sick by sleeping with wet hair, ‘Tsumu.” You’d whisper, shaking him gently awake. Usually he’d just groan in response and bury himself further against your body heat beneath the comforter--unwilling to give up even a second of precious, blissful sleep. You’d even gone so far as to physically pull his heavy, six foot athlete’s body out of the bed and into the bathroom to dry it for him once or twice.

It’s for his health, you reason. You can afford to pamper him a little--especially when he’s been working so hard. And the way his body slumps while he sits, his features softening--long eyelashes kissing the tops of his cheeks as he dozes off into half-sleep at the feel of your fingers tussling his hair with the gentle heat of the blow dryer… He becomes so soft in those moments, like putty in your hands.

It’s dangerous, because it makes you crave the sight of him like this--fragile and reliant on the comfort of your touch--even more.

You sigh. Reminding yourself again, for seemingly the millionth time since this excessive practicing for the championships started,

‘It’s not his fault.’

He’s been good. So, so good. Trying so hard to make sure you know he loves you and he’s sorry. Texting you to check in whenever he has the chance.

 > how are you today?

> how’s work going??

> what’s for lunch??? ლ(≧ڡ≦ლ)

 Sometimes sending videos of himself and Hinata hashing out new plays (only the ones they’ve mastered, though. You may be intimately familiar with every embarrassing piece of him, but he still wants to try to look cool in front of his girlfriend.)

And it helps. It really does. But you also know the texts are just as much for his own sake as they are for yours. You know how needy Atsumu gets when you two are apart.

 You remember the time he’d called you from his hotel room after an away game in Tokyo. How he whined into the phone at the sound of your voice when you whispered.

“Touch yourself for me.”

The way a soft cry escaped him at your command--your name leaving his lips with a breath.

 You want to feel him like that again. To see him beneath you, squirming and desperate--begging for you to just touch him, just sit on his face, his cock, anything you want just please--

 You abruptly stop your line of thinking--not daring to continue dwelling on this recurring fantasy. Atsumu doesn’t deserve the punishment you crave to dole out on him to relieve this frustration.

 … But he might want it.

 Championships are tomorrow. Just 24 hours stand between you and the feeling of Atsumu Miya’s taut muscles beneath your fingertips.

You take a breath, summoning the remnants of your willpower.

You could do this. You would make certain that the wait would be worth it.

For both of you.

 ---

 The Black Jackals win their first match because of course they do. Honestly, sometimes you feel a bit bad for the opposing teams. Their skill, their teamwork, their passion, their absolute willpower to win is stifling. Atsumu texts you that they’re going out for celebratory dinner and drinks. Bokuto’s idea. (Obviously). He promises he’ll be home as soon as he can. They’ve all got tomorrow morning off, and a whole day before the next round of matches. Some indulgence is well-deserved.

You type out your reply.

 > Take your time and enjoy yourself! You’ve earned it. 💕

 Knowing you’ve got at least two hours or more before the boys’ exhaustion ushers them all home, you decide to spend some time... preparing.

 You’re reclined on the couch, watching something you can comfortably give your half-assed attention to while scrolling on your phone. You hear the front door unlocking, the handle turning, and your heart leaps into your throat. The thought of finally, finally having Astumu all to yourself makes you absolutely giddy.

You turn expectantly, and can’t help the way your lips curl upward into a smile.

Atsumu pushes the door open and turns toward you, already smiling when he opens his mouth.

 “Hey.” You murmur.

 “Hey.” He breathes back, and you watch the way his features relax at the sight of you. The way the confident, assiduous Atsumu Miya--a man who wakes up every single day and strives for perfection in everything and every one---melts into something softer.

Something that’s silently begging for you to tear him apart and piece him back together again.

He slips off his shoes, drops his gym bag to the floor, and brings his long, heavy body to lay over yours on the couch.

His face--tinted pink (presumably from the drinks)--buries itself against your neck, lips pressed to your skin.

Your fingers assume their familiar position, nestled in the blonde locks atop his head.

 “Missed you…” You say lowly against his ear.

The small shiver that runs down his spine does not escape your notice.

 “I’ve been here every night!” He protests.

 “You know what I mean.” Your fingers press against his head, tugging on the strands the slightest bit.

 “Mmm…” He affirms softly--your skin keenly feeling the gentle hum against its surface. He knows what you mean. He’s been here, yes, but it’s felt more like the ghost of him--wisping into your bed for a few hours and gone again in the morning.

 “You were really in the zone today.” You comment. “I felt bad for the other team.”

 He huffs out a small laugh. “Don’t. They played fine. We were just better.”

 “Hmm…” You take your unoccupied hand and run a single finger up the curve of his spine.

 He exhales, and you listen for the tremble in his breath you know will be there.

Just a little more.

 “Either way, you were so good.” You can’t contain the coy lilt your voice takes on. You know damn well what you’re doing--using the very words that always make him quiver. He knows what you’re doing, too.

Atsumu thinks he doesn’t mind.

 It’s quiet for a beat. The two of you simply basking in the warmth of your bodies pressed against each other. You stretch beneath him, and… readjust yourself in a way that presses your breasts against him just a little bit more...

And Atsumu finally, finally breaks.

 He inhales sharply, and lets the subsequent exhale freely pass against your neck. A muffled word that sounds a lot like a plea leaves his throat.

 “What was that?” You ask, purposely grazing your lips against his reddening ear.

 “Please…” He begs.

 You consider being mean for a moment. Consider pushing him to his limit in desperation. The way those sharp brown eyes would turn glassy and tearful, his dark brows pulled together, pleading you to hurry up and take him--touch him--let him touch you--fucking anything. However you want, wherever you want. Make him vocalize that burning desire, and only concede when he well and truly begs.

 But that can always be arranged another time.

You’re far too heady with desire yourself to enact such cruelty on him right now. Not after he’s been so good.

 You shift your weight, moving to switch your positions by sitting up and pressing him beneath you. Your straddle his hips, purposely pressing your weight down against his pelvis ever-so-slightly.

 “You’ve been working so hard, ‘Tsumu…” You murmur, lowering the top half of your body to lean over his. Hands sliding under the hem of his shirt, running up along the taut muscles that tremble at your touch. “Such a good boy…”

Atsumu’s bites his lip in an effort to stifle the deep moan that leaves his chest. The way his body almost involuntarily reacts to that phrase every. single. time… It’s just too good to pass up.

You wet your lips.

 “Let me make you feel good.”

 And you press those lips ever-so-softly to the juncture between his jaw and neck. Soft touch turning to a light bite, and then back to a soothing kiss.

 Atsumu is crumbling--his hardening length pressing insistently against you.

 “I got everything ready. We can use whatever you want: rope,” and you press a slow open-mouth kiss to his neck,

“your collar,” then one to his collarbone,

“a toy,” traveling down to his pecs,

“the strap…” ending just beneath his belly button.

You look up at him from beneath your lashes, watching keenly for his expression to shift in interest at any certain one.

 Atsumu doesn’t give an immediate answer, his gaze unable to meet your own. Your hands trail back down his body, grazing a nipple with your fingernail just to see the way he twitches at the sensation. 

 “C’mon baby, how am I supposed to treat my good boy if he doesn’t tell me what he wants?” You purr, bringing your hands to the hem of the worn, oversized t-shirt covering your top half down to the juncture of your thighs. You’d snatched it from his dresser earlier to lounge in. Another carefully plotted detail. You knew just how riled up he got at the sight of you wearing his shirts. Even more so if he lifted it only to find those black and gold lacy panties underneath… Or if there was nothing…

Stretching your body, you pull the shirt up and off of your torso, tossing it aimlessly behind you. Atsumu’s gaze immediately returns to you--spotting that very set’s match: a black bra with intricate gold stitching around the lace adorning your skin. His hands are on you in an instant--palms sliding up your ribs to reach your breasts and gently squeezing around them.

Astumu had never been good with the concept of patience.

 Normally, you’d stop those big, calloused setter hands in their tracks--admonishing him for not asking permission, first. But this was about him. About fulfilling every whim his exhausted mind and body had the energy left to want. You could allow a little insubordination tonight.

 “You even wore my favorite.” He grins, that cheeky, self important tone of his sneaking back out. You smile coyly and tilt your hips downward, pressing your bare core against his still-restrained cock. He inhales sharply--dropping the attitude once more.

 “Part of the reward.” You grin. “Now, what does my good boy want?”

 His eyes drift upwards from their fixation on your breasts, meeting your gaze.

 “I want…” He bites his lip. “Wanna make you feel good.”

 Your eyes widen at the admission, but he’s speaking again before you can inquire.

 “You’re always so patient with me when practice gets like this. I just want to... To give you a reward, too.”

 You’re taken aback for a beat, pleasantly surprised at the acknowledgement. Atsumu still manages to surprise you with how observant he is. One of the more unexpected traits he shares with Osamu. Your eyes soften and you reach up to gently cup his face. He turns his head to kiss your hand and murmurs against your palm.

 "Let me taste you. Please."

 He knows how you get when he’s busy like this. How--despite your authority and confidence in the bedroom--you still long for his affection and crave his touch when he’s gone.

And this… This is the perfect way for him to express his gratitude while still pleasing both of you.

 “Okay.” You breathe, moving to kneel over his face. “Whatever you want,” you gently drop your weight toward his mouth. “my sweet boy.”

 He practically preens at the praise, moaning against your core. Again, Atsumu demonstrates his struggle with patience and savoring the moment. In an instant, he’s gripping your thighs and pulling them closer against the sides of his face. You know you could sit your entire weight atop him and he’d thank you, but tonight calls for something gentler. It’s enough to know you’re the only person who gets to see him like this. The only one who gets to watch the diligent, cocksure Astumu Miya, one of--if not the--best setters in Japan, become so vulnerable and desperate beneath you.

 He flattens his tongue and runs it slowly up from the start of your opening to the top of your clit.

 “Fuck, ‘Tsumu…” You moan, hands rushing to grasp at his hair. He groans, too, at the sensation of your fingers tugging--the hum sending a vibration through your body. You grind your hips, silently urging him on, and his tongue laves at your clit with small kitten licks. The feeling of those tiny, gentle laps against your most sensitive spot, so diligent and soft--it’s like electricity coursing through you, running up into every limb.

 “Mmhmm.” He hums against you. He knows just how you like it. When he services you like this--like the obedient puppy he is. “So wet… Y’taste s’good...” He says, hot breath fanning against you while he catches his breath for a moment.

 You press yourself back against him insistently. “Who said you could take a break? Use your fingers, too.”

 His mouth is back against you immediately, right hand sliding beneath your thigh to reach your opening. Carefully, he presses two fingers against it--testing the give, while his tongue continues to lick and suck at that sensitive nub. Spit has dribbled down from his mouth to where his fingers are pressed, and he slides his digits against the wetness, adding to the natural lubricant. Then, finally, he pushes those long middle and ring fingers up and into you. They slide in easily despite the way you feel yourself clench around the intrusion. He was right--you’re soaked. He finds a comfortable rhythm to compliment his tongue’s lashings easily and your head falls back, a deep moan escaping past your lips.

 “‘Tsumu… ‘Tsumu, fuck just like that--you do it so well for me, baby… Right there--”

 You’re cut off by the feeling of his fingers curling within you--searching, and then pressing against that spot so nicely.

Your thigh muscles twitch against his cheeks--breath fleeing from your lungs at the sudden rush.

 “Yes, ‘Tsumu--fuck yes.”

 You chance a look down at his face. Those long lashes closed, brows knit together in concentration while he pleasures you. Atsumu’s a pretty boy, but you think he’s prettiest like this.

 Fuck, you want more of that desperate expression. Want to edge him over and over until he’s drooling and can’t remember his own fucking name.

 You’re getting close. That climbing ecstasy rising dangerously high within you. You pull yourself off him before you can climb too high, and the release of suction from his mouth makes a small, wet pop.

 “You eat it so well, baby. So, so good for me, pretty boy.” You coo, caressing the sides of his face. His lips are pink and wet and you return your hips to their place atop his length. His lip wobbles with a whimper, back arching against you in search of more.

 “I think you’ve earned your reward now, don’t you?” Your eyelids fall, half-closed seductively while you lean your chest toward his face. You reach behind your back and release the clasp of your bra. His hands tighten themselves into fists, trying to restrain the urge to reach up and touch. The fingers of your left hand splay out against his chest, holding your weight, while the right moves down to pull off his boxer briefs. Then, your wet folds are sliding against his erect, bare, length. Slowly, up and down.

 “Mmm please can I--can I touch--”

 You interrupt him with a small lick against those still-wet lips and chuckle quietly to yourself.

 Oh, so now he’s ready to ask first?

 “You can.” You affirm, reaching down to line him up with your entrance. His breath is coming harder now, those hardened pecs rising and falling beneath you. The anticipation is rapidly unraveling him. Atsumu’s hands are on your back, tugging your chest back down towards him. As they slide forward around your ribcage to grasp your breasts, his gaze flits up to you.

 “Can I--?”

 “Mmhmm.” You nod--knowing what he wants. His mouth closes around your nipple, sucking with that perfect amount of harshness to tighten the coiling pressure in your lower body. His tip rests right against your opening. You can see the precum dribbling out of him--can feel the way he’s pushing himself slightly further up--desperate to get inside. Were this any other time,  you’d reprimand him for such impertinence. Tie his hands above his head and deny him completely. ‘And you were being so good, too, asking permission and everything. You wanna be inside that bad, maybe I should remind you how it feels to be on the receiving end, hmm?’

But, honestly, he’d nearly tipped you over the edge with just his mouth earlier. You were becoming impatient, yourself. 

 Finally, blessedly, you sink yourself down onto his cock, revelling in the way his mouth falls open and his head flings backward against the couch pillow with a cry.

 “Mmm.. ‘s it that good, baby?” You tease.

 “‘S been a while… So tight…” He hisses, almost like it’s too much.

 “Yeah?” You tease. Your hips are gradually picking up speed. Slowly rising up, up, up, as far as you can go before it feels like he might just fall out of you, and then your hip fall again, taking his full length deep inside.

 “‘Tsumu…” You say, rising back up again. “I wanted to pamper you tonight... “ and you slide back down. “Give my cute, sweet boy a reward for all his hard work.”

 Atsumu keens, whimpering beneath you.

 “But I think I wanna be a little selfish, too.” You breathe, leaning in close enough for your breath to fan against his face. “Is that ok baby?”

 A high pitched moan leaves Atsumu’s throat, and you clench around him.

 “Yes…” He sighs between ragged breaths. “Yes... Please, I--”

 “Please, what?” You interrupt him.

 “P-please…” You watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. “Please, mommy…”

 “Ohhhhh, that’s my good boy.” You moan, restarting the rise and fall motion of your cunt around him. “Gonna make you feel so good. Just the way you deserve, ‘Tsumu. But you have to promise you won’t cum until I say so, mmk?” You’re holding his face, running your right index finger along the line of his jaw with a feather-light touch.

 And Astumu Miya shudders beneath you, staring up in reverence. The way those big brown watery eyes look at you… He’d look so cute with a collar clasped around his neck right now.

 He nods. “I--I won’t. I promise. Please.”

 Your hand moves up to stroke his hair softly. “Good boy.”

 You restraighten your back in your seated position atop him. Your hands come to rest against his chest for leverage, and you begin riding him in earnest. Atsumu’s eyelids fall closed again, head thrown back while his mouth hangs open in pleasure.

 “Is this what you wanted ‘Tsumu? Just want to feel me fuck myself on you until I’m satisfied?” You tease as you bounce. You slow to almost a halt and grind your hips in a circle, feeling the way his cock buries itself to the hilt. Atsumu’s hands are balled into tight fists against the couch. He’s moaning freely now--little cries escaping him as your cunt eagerly swallows him down over and over and over again.

“So good… You’re so good inside me, ‘Tsumu. Stretching me out so much every time. I know you know how good that feels.”

 “Ahnn--!” He keens at the memory. The way your soft hands had pressed his legs up against his chest. Wetness from the lube dripping down so tantalizingly slow between his ass cheeks. The cock of your strap buried within him. How utterly full he had felt, stretched around it while you softly cooed praises at him, stroking his cock.

 Fuck he wanted to cum like that again.

 More than that, he just wanted to cum. His hands clench and unclench--mouth hanging open while he revels in memory--in the feeling of your tight, wet, heat sliding up and down him just how he likes--how he needs.

 “I told you it was OK to touch, baby.” You reach down to grasp his hands with your own, bringing them to rest on your hips. “Hold onto me while I fuck myself on you.” You whisper.

 Atsumu’s eyes open at that, watching your body bounce on him. HIs left hand hastily comes up to grasp a breast, relishing the feel of the soft, pliable skin in his grasp.

 You gasp lightly at the sensation of his hand grazing your sensitive nipple. “Fuck yeah. So good for me baby--so good. Gonna make you cum in me like this--”

 Atsumu’s head falls back against the cushions again, his expression knotted in pleasure. “You feel so good. So good… Please… Please I’m-- Ahh!-- I’m getting close.”

 “Aww you’re close already? You wanna cum baby?” You shouldn’t tease. You know you’re close, too. That cresting peak getting closer and closer with every push of his cock into your deepest places. Your breath is ragged from the exertion of your body. You reach behind you blindly, refusing to miss an instant of Atsumu’s delicious expression. Eventually, you find the small bullet vibrator you’d stashed beneath the cushions earlier. You bring the toy to your clit and immediately feel it; that powerful wave looming just behind--threatening to take you over the edge. You steele yourself the best you can, inhaling deeply.

 Atsumu slides his eyes open at the sound and unleashes the mostly ungodly, moan. His voice trembles when he speaks.

 “Can I--can I come? Please--please baby let me come. Let me come.” His hands hold fast to your hips, grip growing steadily tighter as the sensations continue to climb. Faster now--exponentially faster. He’s not sure he could stop if he wanted to.

 “Mmmm hearing you beg like that… Good boy. You can cum, baby. I’ll even cum with you for being so good. Go ahead. Cum in this tight pussy.” Your words are rushed, breath catching here and there. “Give it to me.”

 And Atsumu shatters.

 The way his cry lilts up--high-pitched and unabashed. That wave crashing into him so hard and so completely it takes you down under with him. Atsumu’s mind is empty. Nothing but blinding white as he expends everything he has in him in an instant. His name spills past your lips over and over like a mantra while you ride out your high. The two of you so in-sync, it feels as though your cunt convulses in time with his every pulse. Everything feels so, astonishingly good and intimate.

 You’re both breathing heavily, eyes shut tight as that shared bliss slowly dissipates. You let yourself come down to rest on his chest. It’s suddenly very quiet save for your shared breaths. Eventually you rise onto your elbows, face directly over his.

 “I love you…” Atsumu murmurs, eyes slightly flitting about while he studies the intricacies of your face. He memorized them all long ago, but even in this he is never sated. Your eyes soften, chest fluttering at his tone: so tender and soft.

 “I love you, too.” You say, gently caressing his face. “So much.”

 Atsumu can’t help the smile spreading across his face. In one quick motion, his arms are around your neck and tugging your face down toward him. His head tilts, lips melding themselves against yours when they make contact. The kiss is unusually tender, his lips trying to convey what his words cannot: how he is so thankful and lucky to have you. You, who understands how dear his passion, his career, is to him yet helps him remain grounded so that it does not consume him entirely. You, who remains so, so patient when he is away. You, who is always there to help him take care of himself when he is too busy or exhausted. You, who holds him when he finally fractures under the stress of giving his everything all the time--and who helps him put his pieces back together again and get back at it.

 Your head returns to its resting place on his chest. His heartbeat steady beneath you, lulling you to sleep. You both need to get up, clean up, and get into your actual bed, but the bliss of finally feeling Atsumu’s hard body beneath you. Knowing it is completely yours, at least for a short while… You don’t want to relinquish it for even a second.

There’s another beat of silence before you speak.

 “Wanna go to ‘Samu’s and get tuna tomorrow?” You ask.

 Atsumu groans his approval loudly--so much so one would think he hadn’t just finished a massive meal with the Jackals. That signature cheeky grin returns to his face.

 “Oh my god I love you.”

[anthemxix]

Hey! i love your writing & I'd love to see a continuation of the 'Fairies' fic with Warriors and Hyrule! you wrote them both so well :)

hi! thank you so much! :D and thank you for your patience! i know it took a while for me to get to this. getting these boys to share their personal lives with one another is quite a challenge, lol. hope you like it! <3 (here's the first one) --- The screen door and front porch creak when Hyrule sneaks outside, but he's sure no one is awake to hear. Summer air, warm and welcoming even at midnight, instantly soothes him. Homey Lon Lon Ranch elicits a cherished sense of belonging and family that Hyrule has not previously known, but even here, the need for fresh air and open spaces needles him now and again.

Relishing the unobstructed view of a million stars and the cicadas chiming in the trees, Hyrule ventures into the peacefully empty yard that, between horses and cuccos and Links, was so lively a few hours prior. He decides to amble towards the rose bushes along the fence, where bowls of sugar water are secreted to attract fairies—but stops short when, to his surprise, he spots another nighttime wanderer.

In front of the rose bushes, Warriors lounges on a bench surrounded by fairies, their blue and pink lights lazily flickering in contentment. With a deep and gentle fondness, he smiles at his companions, looking younger and more relaxed than Hyrule has seen him.

Hyrule feels like he's intruded on a private moment. He's considering retreating when Warriors says, "I'm know I'm pretty, but are you just going to stare all night, Traveler, or will you join me?"

Surprised, Hyrule laughs, then sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. "Ah, uh, sorry. I can find somewhere else to sit."

"No need. I think they want to see you anyway."

Indeed, some of the fairies have started to drift towards him, compelled by unseen gravity like moons to planets. He grins at them, cupping his hands. A few nestle there, forming a pastel bouquet.

Hyrule settles on the bench, careful not to disturb the fairies he cradles.

"What calls you out so late, Traveler?" Warriors asks conversationally. Some fairies stir from where they've nested in his scarf and float towards Hyrule, curious about the newcomer.

"Just wanted some air. You?"

"Same, I suppose."

Hyrule admires the starlight that catches in the fairies' filmy, dragonfly-like wings as he remembers when he and Warriors (almost) spoke a few weeks ago in the glen. He likes the Captain--they get along fine, and they fight together fluidly--yet Hyrule's never really talked to him. Safe and relaxed as this summer night feels, he figures now is a prime opportunity to change that.

"I love it here on the ranch," Hyrule admits, "and I love being with all of you. But sometimes I feel...stifled, I guess? Like I need to get out into open air. Get some breathing room. Does that make sense?"

"Sure. Some of the others are like that, too."

Warriors doesn't offer more, but Hyrule isn't willing to let go of the conversation so easily. "Do you feel that way ever?"

"Me?" Warriors smiles at the fairies as they circulate between him, Hyrule, and the refreshing bowls of sugar water hidden in the bushes. "Nah, not really. I'm used to being around people all the time, though. No privacy in the army."

"Oh, right. That makes sense. It was a dumb question."

"It wasn't." Warriors glances at him sidelong. "You're too hard on yourself."

Hyrule flushes. "What? No, I'm-- I'm the, the...right amount of hard on myself. No, that--that sounds weird, worded like that. I mean--"

Warriors laughs. The sound startles some fairies, makes them dart away with irritated squeaks. "I know what you mean. It's fine."

Still blushing, Hyrule slumps back in his seat. Maybe talking wasn't such a great idea after all.

Warriors, thankfully, changes the subject. "They really like you."

The fairies, wary of another outburst from Warriors, mostly congregate around Hyrule now. "They're just drawn to my magic."

"That's part of it, but it's definitely you they like. They're drawn to people with pure hearts. At least, the ones not trying to catch them in bottles."

Uncomfortable with the compliment, Hyrule squirms. "Oh, yeah, you're right, but it's... I mean, it's my magic, probably. I'm kind of...similar to them...in a way? I guess? I think they view me as, like, a weird, oversized, bumbling fairy."

Warriors reigns in his laughter this time. "Doesn't your spell just replicate their magic in some way? It's not like you're actually a fairy. I think they can tell the difference."

Hyrule squirms even more, suddenly aware he's on the precipice of an important moment. "Um...well, I... That's not strictly true."

"What isn't?"

"That I'm...not... Uh..." He bites his lip. Come on, just say it! You can't get close to people if you don't let them see you! "It's just that, uh, m-my spell actually kinda makes me transform into a fairy...?"

Hyrule winces and averts his eyes, bracing for the reaction to his blurted words. He's hardly revealed this ability to anyone, and he's not at all certain what the reaction might entail. Disbelief? Laughter? Prying questions?

He isn't expecting what Warriors actually says, which is: "Have you ever been caught in a bottle?"

Hyrule looks at him, head tilted in confusion. Warriors has adopted a calculated mask of calm, so Hyrule can't tell what he's thinking. "C-caught in a bottle? No, can't say I've had the pleasure."

"I see."

"...Why do you ask that?"

When he answers, Warriors sounds stilted and detached, like he’s delivering a report: "There was a time in the war when a Great Fairy assisted us. She carried me across the battlefield in a bottle to use me as her weapon."

Hyrule crinkles his brow. Simply imagining the magnitude of such claustrophobic horror stirs up anxiety, and he shudders. "Oh my gosh."

"As soon as I served my purpose, she’d plop me back in there," Warriors continues. "I tried escaping, believe me, but I never made a dent in that bottle."

"That's awful, Captain."

Sensing a shift in Warriors' emotional aura, the fairies drift to him again, snuggling into his hands or brushing him with their wings.

"It really was," Warriors whispers, calculated mask finally slipping as he allows himself to remember. He wilts. "I was totally powerless. It was the worst feeling."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that."

Warriors watches the fairies for a moment, then shrugs, affecting nonchalance. "Well, that was a long time ago now. Doesn't matter."

Hyrule leans back and looks up at the splash of milky way and glittering stars. Pinks and blues twinkle in his periphery. "They say time makes things better, but it really doesn't. Not by itself. So yeah, of course it matters."

Quiet understanding passes between them, ethereal and peaceful as the fairies. Nothing else needs saying.

A sudden wave of drowsiness overtakes Hyrule. Perhaps it's from the emotional fallout of trading long-held secrets; though worthwhile, the activity draws on inner energy that Hyrule isn't used to tapping. The tiredness is pleasant, though, like the satisfying ache in his muscles after a challenging but rewarding day of adventuring.

"Can I see it sometime?" Warriors asks, his tone returning to its familiar smoothness.

Hyrule blinks. "See what?"

"Your spell."

"Uh...oh! My transformation spell? I--I guess so. Sure. Why not?"

"That's not convincing," Warriors laughs. "You don't have to."

"Ahh, no, I can. I'm just not used to, uh..."

"Showing off?"

"Er, yeah."

"You should show off your abilities," Warriors asserts. "Force other people to experience your brilliance. It's an enjoyable hobby."

Hyrule's laugh startles the fairies this time. They squeak and finally give up on these disruptive Hylians, opting instead to crowd around the sugar water bowls or disappear into the pasture grasses.

"Yeah, okay," Hyrule says, slumping back and closing his eyes. The night didn't turn out the way he expected, but he feels relaxed and tranquil nonetheless. A nap beneath the stars, cushioned by the rose bushes' fragrance, sounds perfect right now. "I'll keep that in mind, Captain."

[spencersawkward]

i’m so happy ur on tumblr now!! i love between the lines so much, could you write a blurb or one shot about mgg and a younger co-star, but like very spicy if possible 🙃, idk i just love that scenario🥵.

i was literally about to write "omg i love this concept too!" and then i was like “well no fucking shit, sophi.” lol. YES i can 10/10 write you a one-shot with a similar scenario! also thank you for your kind words that was the first fic i ever wrote so it’s very near and dear to my heart!

summary: reader goes to a holiday party with her co-stars and best friend, Matthew... but all the fun happens in the dressing room.

content warnings: this one is quite dirty but i’m also proud of it lol. unprotected penetrative sex, oral (female receiving), degradation, use of the term “little girl,” creampie, age gap. dirty talk?

pairing: Fem!Reader/Matthew

word count: 4.7k

masterlist

"no."

"what do you mean, 'no’?” Matthew laughs, looking between me and the mirror.

"I look like the Ghost of Christmas Past." I lift up the soft white tulle of the dress, watching it float back down to settle over my skin. he's got his eyebrows raised and there's a smirk on his lips like he's holding back a laugh. I resist the urge to reach around and hit him.

"would you rather wear that?" he points to the punch-stained gown that's now laying pathetically over the back of the vanity chair. I genuinely ponder the idea for a moment.

"honestly, the crime scene vibes might work well with the theme of our show."

"seriously, it's not bad, Y/N!" he insists, drawing my attention back to the mirror.

"you're just saying that because you're the one who spilled on me and you don't want people making fun of how clumsy you are." I cross my arms over my chest. he gives me a dubious expression in our reflection on the wall.

"do I seem like I care about that?" he challenges.

"I--" the truth is that no, Matthew is not the type. Matthew is the kind of person to flounder in front of anyone and proceed to crack a joke about himself. he's humble. but I kind of like when we talk like this, our back and forth.

after a year of working together on the same show, he and I have grown incredibly close. I'm friends with all my co-stars, but he and I just have the natural friendship chemistry that makes me want to spend all my time with him. when we're not on set, we're hanging out on his couch or ordering dinner or driving out of town to check out wacky sites around California. we just have fun. pure, clean, honest fun.

of course, in my dreams it isn't pure or honest. frankly, there's a lot of sordid scandal to what goes on in my head when he accidentally touches my arm or brushes his fingers over mine. the amount of times I have gone to cast parties trying to work up the nerve to kiss him are embarrassing. he's older and more experienced and, obviously, he has no interest in me.

but that doesn't matter.

the only reason I'm standing in a dressing room alone with him is because he knew someone on the crew who could hook me up with a replacement for the night. he left while I slipped out of the old one and came back in only after knocking and checking, like, twice to make sure I was decent. he's so respectful that it's almost like he's afraid of making me think the wrong thing-- which makes me feel absolutely stupid for my almost schoolgirl crush.

"come on, you look great. let's go enjoy the party."

"was this a dress one of the victims was wearing?" I ask with a laugh.

"probably. not like we carry a lot of gowns on set." he grabs my hand, makes my heart leap into my throat. he only does it to urge me along, but it still feels intimate as I follow him out of the room, tossing one more evaluative glance at myself in the mirror. I seem terrified.

we continue to do our rounds at the party, Matthew filling my glass of eggnog even though I hate it. I wince and take a sip while we talk to some of our co-stars.

"what's wrong with you?" Shemar chuckles at my expression.

"lost a bet."

"with whom?" he glances between Matthew and me, knowing damn well already from the mischievous grin on the former's face.

"I told you not to take it." Matthew says over the rim of his glass.

"if you mention it one more time, I'm gonna throw up eggnog all over your outfit." I threaten him, but we're both smiling. Shemar frowns.

"what was the bet?"

"you know David-- the guy I was telling you about?" I reply quickly, determined to give my side of the story. Shemar nods; I told him last week when David oh-so-chivalrously danced up on me at a club and asked me out. usually in those situations, guys just want a one-night stand, so I was impressed and agreed. "anyway, Matthew said if it turned out that he was a weirdo, he would get to pick my drinks for the next week whenever we go out."

"your drinks? that's specific."

"she's so picky!" Matthew teases me.

"leave me alone, you dick!" I elbow him and he dodges just in time.

"tell him why he was a weirdo." he grins. the glare I give could kill. but Shemar is waiting expectantly for me to share the information, so I sigh and set my jaw before telling the truth.

"he collects antique dental tools."

"what?" Shemar laughs disbelievingly. I throw my hands up.

"I don't fucking know. we went back to his apartment and he showed me his whole collection."

"you're attracted to weird people, Y/N." Matthew says. I raise my eyebrows and almost say something that dooms me. I hold my tongue, however, and turn back to Shemar with a reserved smile.

"anyway, how are you?"

...

the cast holiday party is actually pretty fun. I tend to leave these functions early in favor of my couch and some ice cream, but something about the bright colors and the smell of wintergreen in the air makes me want to linger in the studio.

I stuff myself with sugar cookies and Matthew mercifully lets me switch from eggnog to Sprite. normally, I'd drink at such an occasion, but I'm a messy drunk and this is one of my first real jobs as an actress. I don't want to even come close to jeopardizing that by breaking some expensive equipment or something.

my throat gets a little sore from all the talking I do-- Paget and I spend about half an hour horribly belting out Christmas carols at the baby grand piano they brought in. they originally had someone hired to play it, but the guy disappeared about an hour ago.

by the time it hits around ten pm, my limbs are tired. I thought people would be leaving (a lot of them have families), but the party is still very much raging when I start to wind down. maybe it's because I'm sober.

"hey." Matthew sidles up next to me as I sit at the piano bench with a slice of lime in my mouth. I like to suck the juice out of them; sour things are my favorite.

"hi." I pluck the fruit out and drop it back into my soda. he sits next to me, his cologne filling my senses with the kind of sensual warmth that it shouldn't be making me feel. he always smells so good.

"ladylike." he gestures to the movement.

"is that why you call me 'princess?'" I smirk, half-joking.

"once-- I called you that once!" he defends. it's not a lie. he used the nickname when he was mocking me for my somewhat selective food preferences. it was sarcastic, but I wish it wasn't. something about the way he said it in the moment made me blush.

"is there a reason you've come to grate my nerves?" I raise an eyebrow and he turns away from me as he bites back a smile. I pout. "what?"

"you're talking like a Jane Austen novel."

"what's wrong with Jane Austen?" I defend, skin heating up. his proximity is doing things to me that it shouldn't.

"nothing," he glances at me before moving his gaze to the ivory keys. "do you play?"

"elementary level, sure." I giggle. he runs his fingers over them, never pressing down hard enough to release a sound. I'm entranced by the delicate nature of his actions, the veins and the curve of his fingertips, the sheer width of his hand. I think about it too much for it to be healthy.

"show me." it's a direct order, one that doesn't feel directive but still ends with me placing both hands on the piano and wracking my brain for something to play. I decide on a piece that Paget and I were doing earlier, "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."

I've never been quite good at piano, and the nearness of his body is like an anvil on my fingers, but I play anyway. and it feels good. his eyes are on me, drawn to my tracings over the instrument as they press and lift and glide.

"sing." I tell him.

"no!" he protests. I don't stop playing, only now getting into the thick of the tune.

"oh, come on. just the chorus..." I plead, turning my head to beg. "please?"

I bat my lashes playfully, fully intending it as a joke, but Matthew softens a bit. for a fraction of a second, I think he looks at my mouth. he turns his head back to the piano and lets out a quiet "here we are as in olden days... happy golden days of yore..."

"there you go!" I egg him on, and he starts to get more into it. his voice is absolutely off-key; he's no singer, and somehow that makes him even more endearing to me.

Matthew has always been this flawless, intimidating figure in my mind. even when we first met, I was certain that he was hiding something because everything else about him is so... perfect. he's funny, sweet, genuinely kind, handsomer than hell. it didn't make sense. but knowing that he can't carry a tune makes me feel a bit better. it humanizes his beauty.

while he sings, I can't help looking at him. his side profile is even more enchanting; the curve of his features meeting a smooth elegance in his jaw and cheek, especially when his mouth is open. he catches me smiling at him and returns it with his own gleeful face, now totally fine with singing like a fool in front of everyone. nobody is even really looking at us-- they're several drinks in and lost in their own universe of drunken laughter.

there's something kind of magical about that, I think. we're sober. when the song draws to a close, I lift my fingers off the keys and into my lap.

"you're quite the Pavarotti." I joke.

"the who?" he furrows his brow with a smile.

"he's a famous opera singer."

"oh," he laughs, "thanks, Mozart."

I twist my face up as I hide my smile. this is also part of the reason I could never tell Matthew how I feel; we just fit together too well. he almost always gets my references and I understand his, even though there's an age gap between us. he's an old soul with a youthful heart.

"how's your night going?" I ask him softly, changing the subject. he sets his hands on his lap, absent-mindedly toying with his fingers. it's not a nervous tendency at all. he does it whenever we're on set.

"as of right now? pretty damn good." he replies with a smile. I get warm again at the implication. he doesn't mean it like that, but god, do I wish he did.

"very smooth." I compliment appreciatively.

"how about you?"

"it was kind of boring, but then this rando sat next to me and started singing Christmas songs and it got a little better." I say flatly, grabbing my glass off the top of the piano and running my fingertip over the rim. he drops his head in a giggle.

"you're something else."

"insult?" I clarify.

"definitely a compliment."

"I like compliments."

"well, I wasn't lying before. you look really beautiful in that dress."

"the murder dress?" I glance down at it to hide the absolute wideness of my eyes at his words. he's completely flustering me and I'm starting to find it hard to breathe. he said I look beautiful. not "pretty," not "great"-- beautiful.

"yes, the murder dress." he gets a little pink in his cheeks, and that makes me want to explode on the spot.

"well, say goodbye to it because I'm gonna go change back into my plebeian clothes," I stand from the piano bench. "it's past my bedtime."

Matthew looks up at me with an unreadable expression and I feel my heart flutter in my chest. I hate leaving him. "do you wanna come with me? like-- walk with me?"

"sure." he nods, stands, and follows behind. I can feel his presence like a delightful reminder of the emotions surging in my stomach. we wind through the crowd of party-goers until we end up back in the dressing room, away from the party. it's quiet.

Matthew walks in with me, carrying our drinks in his hand, and he's about to stroll back out so I can change when I touch his arm. the door shuts automatically behind him.

"wait," I swallow quickly. "can you unzip me?"

"oh." Matthew looks at me, then at the glasses in his arms, then at the vanity. he sets them down and comes back quickly, his frame behind me while his fingertips locate the little piece at the top of my gown. my breath hitches in my throat when he brushes over my spine by accident, one nail dragging accidentally against my skin as the fabric slowly gives way. I don't know if he hears it-- it's nearly imperceptible-- but he definitely hesitates once he reaches the place where my back starts to curve into my ass. he pauses, doesn't breathe until he reaches the end of the zipper.

"there you go." he mutters. his voice is a little more hoarse than usual, and he clears his throat as he steps away. I know he's going to back out. he's going to back out of the room and wait for me to slip into nothing and I know, somehow, that he's going to be thinking about how I look in here with my clothes off. he's going to wish he stayed.

and I'm going to wish he'd done more than stayed.

before I can lose my nerve and allow the moment to be swallowed up by practicality, I shrug the straps of the dress down my shoulders and let gravity take over. it drops to the floor, leaving me in only my bra and panties. I can sense him behind me; he's silent for a moment.

"Matthew." I say, the name sitting on my tongue like a sugar cube. perfectly formed, slowly dissolving.

"y-yeah?" he stutters for the first time since I've met him.

"are you looking at my ass right now?" I ask, still turned around. the way he's frozen in place tells me that I'm right.

"yeah." he admits.

"you can touch it, if you want." I murmur softly. part of me doesn't think this is real, the way each sentence leaves my throat like it's been pre-planned. truly, I don't understand how my brain is moving so quickly.

"are you... sure?" he's hesitant, but even I can taste the longing.

"yes."

his hand smooths over my butt, softly at first like he's still not believing his own eyes, before moving back to grab it. he squeezes the flesh, and a low exhale from him tells me that he's excited.

"do you want more?" my voice barely carries. my head is almost foggy from how good it is to have his grip on my body, even in such a simple way. I can feel myself getting wet.

"how much more?" his lips brush over my shoulder and I get goosebumps. my mouth opens and closes for a moment, searching for the right words.

"however much you want."

it's flint and steel, the way he sparks. the air literally leaves my lungs when Matthew grabs my hips and spins me around to face him. my lips part as I peer up at him, at the lust that now darkens those hazel eyes and the way he holds mine. his touch is certain. he pulls our bodies together, tilts my chin up to kiss me.

it's passionate, strong, the kind of kiss that causes me to lean back a bit just to receive the full force of his desire. but I return the affection easily, moaning into his mouth. I've never been held the way that Matthew holds me. like I'm made of sugar glass, like he wants desperately to feel the soft give of my skin and make a home of me.

the heat between our bodies is almost overwhelming, and I sigh when he subtly pushes our hips together. his erection is against my stomach.

"fuck." I mutter when I pull away for air. Matthew doesn't stop his perfect movements, though, tugging my earlobe between his teeth and starting to leave love bites up my skin and over my shoulder. he chuckles against my throat. I shiver.

"you alright, little girl?" he asks.

"just--" I let out a moan at the sensation of his fingers exploring my bare waist. he reaches behind me to unclasp my bra. "just surprised."

"about?" he slides the straps down my shoulders and looks me in the eye. the lack of physical contact makes me whine.

"that you want me."

"how is that surprising?" he smiles, using one index finger to guide me to look at him.

"you don't seem like it."

Matthew raises his eyebrows as if I'm a crazy person. truly dumbstruck. "what?"

"you-- well, I don't know." I frown, but Matthew takes my hand and moves it over his torso until my palm is resting over the considerable bulge in his pants.

"is this enough proof?"

I struggle for words, sputtering. "yeah-- yeah, it is."

he bucks into my hand a little and I bite my lip, eyes moving up to meet his. something passes between us that I don't fully understand, but feel in my bones. I have never, in my life, wanted someone to fuck me as much as I want Matthew to fuck me right now. my jaw clenches.

"I need you." I tell him like this is the most relevant piece of information that will ever pass between us. he smirks.

"yeah?"

"mhmm."

"then lean against the wall and let me give you what you deserve." he orders. for a second, I try to think through what he means. then I look behind me at the open space and back up, him following me closely. his hands move up to cup my breasts, kneading and tweaking my nipples as he kisses my lips. the coolness against my back causes me to gasp, and he swallows the sound with his tongue before moving down my body.

he's torturously slow, taking one of my nipples into his mouth while he shrugs off his suit jacket. he switches to my other peak, one hand splayed over my stomach, and then proceeds southward with his lips. his kisses are delicate, open-mouthed, as they find their way to the waistband of my panties.

he hooks his fingers in them and looks up at me.

"can I eat you out, baby?" he asks. I bite my lip.

"please." like a beg.

"oh, you're polite tonight." he smirks, tugging the garment down my legs and discarding it somewhere in the room. I don't respond, and he doesn't seem to need me to, because he pushes one leg up for better access to my pussy. "let's see if it lasts."

my back curves off of the wall involuntarily when he holds the flat of his tongue against my clit suddenly, trying to roll my hips against his face. my fingers tangle in his hair, one leg resting over his shoulder.

he starts to flick at my clit. I lose grasp of my own language.

"Matthew, that feels so good, I--"

he attaches himself to my bundle of nerves, seemingly turned on by the sounds I'm making for him. he groans as he laps at the wetness between my legs, dipping into my folds and sucking the soul out of me. I whine and use his curls as leverage to gain more friction. he peers up at me.

"needy little girl." he mumbles against my pussy. I shove him back into me.

"make me cum, then." I beg. I can practically feel the devilish smirk on his face as he devours me like he'll never get enough. every twist and lick of his tongue is sending me to new places. I'm panting, chest heaving, while I grab my own tits and buck into his mouth.

he moans. my orgasm hits me like a wave, causing me to nearly thrash with pleasure as I cry out.

"Matthew, keep going, fuck yes!" I feel tears prick the back of my eyes, the culmination almost too much to bear as we hold contact. he stares into my fucking soul as he eats me out, and I want to stay like this forever. it's hard to support myself with my legs going weak, but I love it. the sensations are otherworldly. it's only when I'm about to collapse that I push his face away from me.

"I love your pussy." he tells me, licking his lips as he sets my legs down. I grin and let my head fall back against the wall.

"thanks."

"come here, princess." he takes hold of my hips and guides me over to the mirror, turning me so that he's standing behind my frame. the pet name causes me to smile.

"what?" I reference our reflection. he stares at me, reaching around to squeeze my tits.

"I wanna fuck you in the mirror." such a vulgar thing, said so beautifully. he kisses my cheek. "if that's okay with you."

"I don't care what position we do as long as you're fucking me." I breathe honestly. he chuckles and draws me towards him so his clothed boner is against my ass. I reach behind and work the button on his pants. he undoes the ones on his shirt. we're silent, him watching my naked body move like he's trying to memorize every detail.

when he's finally stripped, he lets me stroke his cock for a couple moments before pushing my upper back forward so I'm holding onto the sides of the mirror. I see him biting his lip as he lines himself up at my entrance.

"you ready?" he checks. I nod and he smiles at me once. pushing in, the smile melts into a jaw-dropped haze, eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Y/N..."

"it's so big." I try to breathe. he's so deep, I grip the mirror until my knuckles turn white. he's going to snap my body in two with the angle of his cock, filling me easily.

"tight little thing." he grunts as he holds himself inside. I can only watch in shock as I try to adjust to the sheer feeling of him. Matthew runs his hands over my sides, my ass, touching whatever he can. "how's that?"

I start to wiggle my hips and he groans at the feeling of my walls desperately swallowing him up. "Matthew, I need it."

"need what?" he thrusts into me and I have to fight a scream.

"need you."

"fuck... yes." he hisses out, sliding into me. "you're so wet I don't even need to try."

I bite my lip to withhold my sounds and he stares me in the eyes in the mirror as he starts to fuck me harder, building a pace with his hips. he growls a little if he hits certain angles, getting ruthless.

"so many times when I wanted to be inside you, princess..." he trails off. I start to play with my clit with one hand, using the other to stabilize myself with the mirror. the idea turns me on.

"when?"

"whenever you have attitude," he pants. "tonight, in that innocent fucking dress. making me wanna pound you like a little slut."

I make a high-pitched sound at the shudder of pleasure that jolts through my stomach at his words, wanting more. I've never heard him talk this way before.

"Matthew, shit--" I rub myself in circles, caught between watching his face and watching the way his hips slam into mine.

"you're begging to be fucked, you know that?"

"am I?" I smile sweetly in the mirror. we're in our own world, locked in a fantasy that I never want to leave. I can feel him in every corner of my body, sinking beneath my skin. he digs his nails into my ass.

"mhmm." he hums. I can feel the familiar weight in my stomach that indicates how close I'm getting. a knot that screams to be undone by his perfect length. I would do anything for more of this. I can taste everything good in the world on my tongue.

"I'm so close." I whine.

"I can tell," he studies my face in the mirror. "so pretty when you're breaking."

"oh--" I feel my thighs tense and my body pulses, the euphoria almost overwhelming. we move steadily, rhythmically, and he pushes my climax to new levels. "faster." I cry.

Matthew is quick to respond, gripping me closer while he plows into me like he's never going to have my body again. the sound of it is filthy, perfect, a mess. he groans at the sensation of my cunt pulsating around his cock.

"cum for me, princess." he moans, losing himself in the embrace of my core. the foggy stare in his eyes is like drowning in the ocean. I sink below, not caring at all about the consequences of him inside me. fuck working together; I need him. "where should I cum?"

"in me." I groan.

"beg." he commands easily, watching my face contort in pleasure. I could pretend to fight it, to give a little attitude, but I don't want to. I love begging for him.

"fill me up, Matthew. please." each word punctuated by the breathlessness of my voice. he gets even more ferocious with me, beating up my pussy until I'm sure he's going to leave me sore.

"right there, right there," he gasps, hitting the same spot that makes me go cross-eyed. "such a good little slut."

his cum shoots into me, deep and warm and erotically twisted, and I nearly collapse. it feels weird, but so good at the same time. full. he groans out my name and withdraws, quick to grab my shoulders and hold me up as I almost fall. I hadn't realized that most of my body weight was supported purely by his thrusts.

"whoa." he lets out a tired laugh, gentle in his touch. I'm heaving air into my lungs.

"sorry." I apologize, my body unstable.

"are you okay?" he seems genuinely concerned and I nod.

"yeah, I'm fine. just a little overwhelmed."

"here," he scoops me into his arms and brings me over to the old love seat in the dressing room, laying his jacket down before putting me on top of it. "can I get you something?"

"Sprite." I gesture to the glass on the vanity, and he smiles as he goes to get it. I gulp down whatever remains of it. "thanks."

"of course." he keeps glancing at my face and the red marks on my hips where he was clutching me like a lifeline. "I'm sorry."

"what?" I set the cup down. "don't ever be sorry for fucking me like that."

"no, I meant--" he laughs, but then he sees my playful expression and realizes that I'm genuinely alright. I think my legs were asleep.

"you're a saint." I tell him. he frowns and shakes his head bashfully. I'm already getting up and collecting my clothes. "or maybe what we just did prevents you from reaching sainthood. I don't know."

he places his hand on my lower back, kisses my forehead tenderly.

"seriously. you're okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine," I assure him. "but I would be better with a milkshake."

Matthew breaks into a slow grin, staring at me like I've done something miraculous.

"how are you so perfect?"

[travellermp3]

A Birthday With Bruce Banner (Bruce Banner x Fem!Reader)

“You wanna go anywhere else?” Bruce asks as you make your way back out to your car.

You think for a moment. “There’s that one movie I’ve been wanting to see. We could go to a matinee showing of that, if that’s alright?”

“Of course. Anything for my birthday princess.” You smack Bruce lightly on the shoulder on his shoulder at his words.

“Shut up,” you say playfully, and Bruce chuckles as he climbs into the driver’s side, starting the engine.

Warnings/Tags: Tooth-rotting fluff, naps (petition to make birthday naps a thing), kissing, swearing, self-indulgent writing to the MAX

Word Count: 1k

A/N: I wrote this for my birthday yesterday, so happy birthday to me! Anyway, this is SO self-indulgent and I love it (Also I haven't written anything in almost two months, so I may be a bit rusty lol)

You had warned Bruce last night that if he woke you up the next morning, you wouldn’t talk to him for the rest of the day.

You were exaggerating, of course. It was your birthday after all, and Bruce always made you feel like royalty on your birthday.

You had felt him slide out of bed and give you a very light kiss to your temple, but you forgave him in your mind as you heard him walk out of your bedroom and into the bathroom.

You quickly fell back asleep after that, grateful that your boss had let you take the day off. Your coworkers had thrown you a little party a couple of days ago, complete with a cheap Walmart cake with icing that was always a bit too sweet for you.

You awoke again a few hours later, with sunlight streaming through your curtains. You rubbed at your eyes, yawning and stretching your arms upward.

Your cat, Leo, jumped and went straight to your face so he could headbutt you. You smile, scratching behind his ears as he starts to purr. Eventually, he jumped off the bed, presumably to go find Bruce. You made your way to the bathroom, making yourself a bit more presentable, and then went out into your living to find Bruce.

He was sitting on the couch, nose buried deep into a book he was reading. He had a coffee mug sitting beside him on the end table. Bruce looks up at you when he hears your footsteps and smiles softly.

“Happy birthday,” He greets, bookmarking his pages and pushing himself up to hug you.

“Thank you,” you reply, leaning into Bruce’s touch as he wraps his arms around you, squeezing you tightly.

“You want breakfast?” He asks. “If we leave soon we could still get something fresh from that cafe you like.”

“Mhm, that sounds nice,” you say, looking up at Bruce and smiling. “I love you,” you mumble, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I love you, too,” Bruce says once you pull away for air.

***

Luckily, the cafe still had plenty of treats to choose from when you finally got there. Bruce ordered a coffee and a bagel, while you ordered a blueberry scone and some hot chocolate.

“Hey, this is the same exact orders we got on our first day,” you comment to him as you sit down at a corner table.

Bruce ponders your words for a moment before replying. “Yeah, I guess it is,” he chuckles.

“Oh my God, you’re wearing the same exact shirt too.” You can’t help but laugh at the same coincidence.

“It’s a nice shirt!” Bruce exclaims, which makes you laugh harder.

“It is! I never said that it wasn’t Bruce,” you tease, and he shakes his head, smiling as he bites into his bagel.

You two sit and talk about nothing until you’re both finished with your food. Bruce takes one final sip of his coffee as you throw your used napkins away.

“You wanna go anywhere else?” Bruce asks as you make your way back out to your car.

You think for a moment. “There’s that one movie I’ve been wanting to see. We could go to a matinee showing of that, if that’s alright?”

“Of course. Anything for my birthday princess.” You smack Bruce lightly on the shoulder on his shoulder at his words.

“Shut up,” you say playfully, and Bruce chuckles as he climbs into the driver’s side, starting the engine.

***

The only people in the theater besides you and Bruce were a couple of old ladies who you’re pretty sure fell asleep halfway through.

Though the movie was boring and underwhelming, you kept yourself entertained by seeing how many pieces of popcorn Bruce could catch in his mouth (he somehow had 100% accuracy).

After the movie, you and Bruce drove home in relative silence (save for the Chris Stapleton playing quietly through the speakers).

As soon as you got through the door, Leo came up to greet you and Bruce. Bruce leans down to scratch behind Leo’s ears, and he purrs at the attention.

“I’m gonna take my birthday nap,” you announce as you toe off your boots. Bruce raises an eyebrow at your words.

“Is that a new tradition?” Bruce asks, and you nod in confirmation.

“Yup. I came up with it about five minutes ago when I realized how tired I was. Care to join me?”

Bruce smiles and laughs softly. “I will gladly join you, sweetheart.”

***

Your nap lasted a few hours, with Bruce graciously taking the position of big spoon. You relaxed into his touch, quickly falling asleep.

You awoke again a few hours later, with Bruce still fast behind you. You nudge gently.

Bruce grumbles something unintelligible before blinking his eyes open. “What time is it?”

“Time for presents,” you joke. “Come on. I want some cake.”

You shake bruce’s arm off of you and slide out of bed, impatiently waiting for him to follow you.

Once Bruce has shaken the sleep off of him, he follows you into the kitchen, grabbing the ice cream cake out of the freezer.

“Do you want me to sing for you? Cause I really don’t wanna sing.” You laugh, shaking your head no.

“Nah, it’s weird when it’s only one person singing.” Bruce nods his head in agreement, slowly starting to cut you a piece of cake.

You go and grab two plates and forks, and Bruce deposits your slice on your plate and you immediately start eating it.

“Holy shit, this is the best cake I’ve ever had,” you gush as Bruce cuts his own slice.

“You say that every year,” He replies, unimpressed.

“Well, it’s true! They make good fucking cake!”

Bruce chuckles, finally taking a bite. “It is good fucking cake.”

You both finish your slices quickly, not wanting the ice cream to melt too much.

“So what are my presents this year?” you ask as you and Bruce wash your plates side by side.

“I’ll get it in a moment,” Bruce promises you.

As soon as he’s finished washing his plate, Bruce leaves to go grab your birthday gift from the spare bedroom.

You hop onto the kitchen counter in the meantime, swinging your legs back and forth like a little kid.

Bruce walks into the kitchen and stands in front of you, hiding something behind his back.

You grin. “What’d you get me?”

Bruce grins back before handing you a simple envelope with your name written on it.

You quickly tear into it and pull out two concert tickets for the Eagles.

“Holy shit, Bruce!” you squeal, throwing your arms around his neck and squeezing him tightly. “You got the tickets!”

“Yeah, I did,” he says, and you pull back to look at him, gripping his shoulders tightly and shaking him back and forth in excitement.

“God, I love you so, so much..” You pull Bruce into another hug before he can reply.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” Bruce finally mumbles, kissing the side of your head before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, smiling to himself.