#should i tag the anons here? probably. will i? no. god no sorry guys i don't wanna tag yall rn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leiawritesstories · 2 years

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I posted 2,406 times in 2022

That's 2,113 more posts than 2021!

659 posts created (27%)

1,747 posts reblogged (73%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@leiawritesstories

@morganofthewildfire

@rowanaelinn

@tomtenadia

@heirofflowers

I tagged 1,969 of my posts in 2022

Only 18% of my posts had no tags

#leia rambles - 638 posts

#rowaelin - 349 posts

#my writing - 266 posts

#aelin galathynius - 171 posts

#rowan whitethorn - 160 posts

#ask game - 109 posts

#fly the black flag - 87 posts

#as i am - 80 posts

#ask - 64 posts

#fluff - 57 posts

Longest Tag: 99 characters

#i cannot watch any show/movie/anything with live musicians and not analyze said musicians technique

My Top Posts in 2022:

Fly The Black Flag Masterlist

A Rowaelin pirate AU

Also known as Horny Pirates™

General warnings: language, depictions of violence, blood, guns, piracy and other immoral things, probable smut

NSFW marked with **

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MOODBOARD by the amazing @elentiyawhitethorn

PLAYLIST by my dear @rowanaelinn

FIC PLAYLIST (Spotify)

TEASER 1: The Plan

ONE: The Stowaways

TWO: Where The Hell Is Lorcan?

THREE: Oh, That’s Just Fenrys Falling!

FOUR: And You’re Going To Lead Us There

FIVE: Take It All

SIX: WHY IS THE RUM GONE?

SEVEN: Rolfe Calls For A Meeting

Chapter 8 Teaser

EIGHT: You’re Late, Galathynius!

NINE: Aggravating

TEN: What the FUCK, Ashryver?

ELEVEN: A Visit From The Royal Navy

TWELVE: So She Cloned Herself?

THIRTEEN: The Perranth Truce**

FOURTEEN: Within Sight Of Fenharrow**

DELETED SCENE: CH. 14**

FIFTEEN: The Traitor’s Tale

SIXTEEN: A Queen In Her Castle

SEVENTEEN: Burn In Hell

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123 notes - Posted March 27, 2022

I had an idea for a Rowaelin prompt: Aelin gathers the courage to give her number to a very handsome stranger -who then messages her telling he's gay, but it was super cool that Aelin had the guts to give her number. He also has a super hot brother, who just happens to be single and he could give the brother's number to Aelin.

She then messages the brother, they start chatting and do end up on a date - and he does not disappoint, for the pine green eyes, silver hair and a body to die for are even better than what she could've hoped for

hi anon!! I love this so much hehehehe

word count: 1,946

warnings: none

Enda’s Single Brother

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maybe it was the liquid courage.

Maybe it was that she hadn’t gotten laid in seven months.

Or maybe it was just sheer Aelin Galathynius Confidence™ that made her strut across the crowded pub and approach the tall, handsome guy leaning against the bar, purposely tripping a little to bump into him.

“God, I’m so sorry,” she apologized, righting herself against the bar top.

“It’s not a problem,” the guy replied, grinning at her. Yeah, he was cute. “My name’s Endymion, but everyone calls me Enda.”

“Nice to meet you, Enda.” She shook his hand warmly. “I’m Aelin.”

She chatted casually with Enda for a few minutes, breaking off when Elide waved at her from the table. “Shoot, my friend’s waving frantically at me, I should go see what she wants.”

“Nice meeting you, Aelin,” Enda grinned.

“You too.” Aelin loosed a short huff. Then she scribbled her number down on a napkin and slid the flimsy paper over to him. “I don’t want to seem pushy, but here’s my number, I’d love to keep talking.” She left before her face could erupt into flames.

“You did it!” Elide whisper-screeched when she got back to the table, blushing a little.

“Yeah,” Aelin agreed. “Yeah, I did.”

“You go, girl!” Lys slapped her a high five. “Look at you, all grown up and getting hot guys to notice you.”

“Bitch,” Aelin laughed. But she was proud of herself.

Enda texted her after she got home, the message pinging on her phone. She glanced at the screen.

>Hey, it’s Enda!

<Hey Enda! This is Aelin

>Oh good, it worked :)

<Glad it did

>Okay

>I have to admit something...

<Yeah? Go ahead!

>I...um...

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132 notes - Posted July 28, 2022

A Rowaelin prompt if I may; Rowan and Aelin are engaged, but every time someone asks them to tell how the proposal went/how they ended up engaged, they make up new stories - each one more random and dirty than the one before. No matter who asks, whether family, friends or random old ladies at the grocery store.

Thank you SO MUCH for the prompt!! <3

word count: 912

warnings: language, naughty naughty jokes, mentions of sex, lots of innuendo

enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aelin could hardly open the garage door, she was laughing so hard. Rowan wasn't any better, he was bent halfway over, clutching his stomach, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes as he tried and failed to catch his breath.

"Shit, Aelin," he wheezed, fumbling for the door to hold it open for her, "In public?!"

"And here I thought you were the one who was into that," she smirked, cackling even harder. She managed to place the bags of groceries both she and Rowan were carrying onto the counter before another wave of laughter crashed over her, leaving her to sink to the floor, wheezing helplessly. "I can't believe I said that."

"I can," Rowan grinned, handing her a tissue.

At the grocery store, they'd been going through the checkout line when the cashier, a very sweet lady about Rowan's mom's age, had noticed Aelin's engagement ring and offered her congratulations. And then she'd asked them for the story, of course, like so many of their friends and relatives and even random people on the street had done in the two months since Rowan had popped the question.

Wicked sparks gleamed in Aelin's eyes.

"Well," she began, leaning in like she was sharing a secret, "I think it was the fourth orgasm that did it."

The poor cashier's eyes had nearly fallen out of her face as she goggled.

Innocently, Aelin continued. "Y'see, he'd never gone more than three rounds back to back, something I'm certainly not complaining about, no ma'am, but something about that resort must have given him extra stamina or something, because the man is insatiable." She winked broadly. "Insatiable, I tell you. In the pool, in the shower, all over the suite--hell, the poor staff's probably still finding scuff marks on the walls from the bedframe banging into it. Three times my fine fiancé had filled me up, and just as I thought he was going to drop down next to me and fall asleep, he and his best friend suddenly became re-energized, and I found myself in a position I'd never tried before. Doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it, no indeed." Her grin was positively evil. "So after that round, in the throes of bliss and all of that, he rolled over onto his side and just panted, 'Marry me, baby.' I thought for sure it was the orgasms talking, but he was serious." She blew Rowan a kiss, admiring her ring.

The cashier's jaw hung open. She took a big deep breath and shook herself back into business mode. "I...I'm sure the two of you will be very happy together," she managed as she rang up the total.

Aelin and Rowan had barely made it out the doors before they exploded with laughter, great pealing guffaws that lasted the whole drive back to their house. She wasn't quite sure how she'd managed to see well enough to drive given the film of laughter-tears that clouded her eyes, but they'd made it.

"I think that was the best one yet," Rowan remarked as he helped her stand.

She snorted. "Better than the one we told Lorcan?"

He coughed, the memory of that account rising. "Shit, maybe not."

Elide and Lorcan had been some of the first people to find out about their engagement. They'd been over at Rowan and Aelin's house, and the loudest shriek Rowan had ever heard in his life emitted from Elide when she caught sight of Aelin's new ring. Of course, she and Lorcan had demanded the proposal story right away. Aelin shot Rowan a wicked wink, her intent to spin something absolutely wild showing in the gesture.

Then she'd launched into a gushy retelling of the place where Rowan had proposed--the Galathynius family's cabin in the Oakwald Forest--complete with a hell of a lot of embellishment, mostly involving celebration sex.

Rowan couldn't help himself when Lorcan raised an eyebrow and inquired how well he thought it had gone.

"Judging by the way she squirted all over my face, I'd say it went very well indeed," he'd hummed, smirking like the cat who ate the canary.

Or the fiancée, as it were.

Lorcan's face went a rather gratifying shade of uncomfortable. "Fuck, Whitethorn," he grumbled, crimson staining his cheeks. "Why the fuck d'you have to be so crude?"

"Pot, kettle," Rowan snorted, snickering at his oldest friend.

Ah yes, the start of their wild proposal stories.

Aedion and Lys had been told that Rowan proposed on a ziplining date, one of the wilder adventures he and Aelin had taken together, an adventure that had almost given him several heart attacks when Aelin decided to go down the route that included leaping off a tree into a steep plunge as part of the course. Aelin's parents had heard that their future son-in-law proposed on the way home from the club. While singing a boisterous, off-key rendition of "Let's Get It On" and stumbling over his own two feet. Rowan's parents had heard that he proposed in an airplane bathroom--what the two of them were doing together in an airplane bathroom, they had not wanted to know.

They invented proposal stories on the fly, whenever someone new asked. The one Aelin had told at the grocery store was definitely the dirtiest, though.

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135 notes - Posted July 13, 2022

Chef’s Special

word count: 3,347

warnings: NSFW, language, minors proceed with caution.

ENJOY! had way too much fun writing this haha

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aelin was running on pure instinct and adrenaline as she leaned into Rowan’s kiss, the hungry way he devoured her lips sending waves of heat pulsing through her body, setting her core throbbing. She could feel her thong starting to soak through just from the rush of this fiery kiss, from the way Rowan’s big, rough chef’s hands kneaded her breasts, working the flesh through her shirt and the flimsy little bra she was wearing.

A hoarse, garbled moan escaped her as Rowan tangled his fingers into her hair, tilting her head back against the door so he could slide his lips down the column of her throat, having enough foresight not to leave any marks. Though a part of her really fucking wanted him to leave marks.

Gods, she had it so bad.

“Rowan!” she gasped as his tattooed hand--fuck, she hadn’t noticed how extensive that tattoo of his was--slipped brazenly into her leggings, cupping her center through her panties.

He smirked darkly against her neck, two fingers stroking lazily up her core, his breath shaking as he discovered just how wet she was. “All for me, baby?” he murmured into her ear, the low roughness of his voice only making her wetter. And damn the man, he noticed, his smirk growing. “Use your words,” he commanded, his fingers brushing oh so close to her clit but never actually touching where she wanted him the most.

“Yes,” she whispered, her hips involuntarily bucking into his touch. “Gods, fuck, yes, Chef.” She didn’t fucking know why she called him Chef, but as she felt his arousal pressing against her, she sure as hell wasn’t complaining.

“Keep calling me that, baby,” Rowan all but growled, crashing his lips back against hers. “And you’ll have to keep quiet.”

She hardly had the time to process what he’d just implied when he shoved her soaked thong aside and plunged one thick finger into her, his thumb finally brushing against her clit, drawing a pattern of circles into the throbbing bud. She moaned into his rough kiss as he pumped his finger, withdrawing it only to replace it with two, crooking them just right. “Fuck, Chef!” she groaned, trembling with the effort of keeping still under the perfect, perfect sensation of this man, whom she barely knew, touching her just the way she craved.

He kissed her throat, teeth nipping at her skin just softly enough not to leave marks. “You like that, baby?”

“Yes,” she moaned, her vocabulary very quickly regressing to “yes,” “Chef,” various expletives, and “Rowan.”

Rowan’s fingers moved faster when she breathed his name, his rough pace and the lovely, absolutely filthy things he whispered against her neck sending her hurtling into sudden climax, her walls clenching around his fingers.

He swore he almost came in his pants right there as she softly moaned his name, muffling her cries like the good girl he knew she was. Fuck, what he wouldn’t give to take her home and hear all of her noises unhindered.

“Good girl,” he murmured into her ear, relishing in the way her whole body shuddered at the praise. He withdrew his fingers, groaning at the way her arousal coated his hand, lifted his fingers to his mouth, and licked them clean. His eyes, already blown out with desire, went nearly black as he tasted her, sucking his own fingers clean. Knitting his free hand back into her hair, he kissed her fiercely, making her taste herself on his tongue.

Aelin started to slide down the door to return the favor, but he stopped her, his hands surprisingly gentle as he placed her back on her feet, shaking his head. “I want to,” she breathed. “Please, Rowan. Chef.”

“Not now,” he murmured. “If I’m not inside you in the next thirty seconds, I think I’m actually going to die.”

She couldn’t contain her grin at that.

He, of course, noticed. “Sass, baby?” His lips brushed the corner of her jaw and she shivered as she felt him sliding his pants down enough for his hard cock to spring out and press against her, his breath fanning hot on her skin. “I’ll have to fuck that out of you, won’t I?”

A whimpering moan was her only answer as fresh arousal rushed through her, definitely ruining her panties. He just chuckled, the dark sound rumbling around the bathroom. Then he looked into her eyes, confirming that she was ready, lined himself up, and slid into her. And in. And in. She was shuddering, walls fluttering around him, as he bottomed out, giving her a moment to adjust before rolling his hips into hers. She met his motions, her hands gripping his shoulders with a surprising amount of strength as he thrust into her, their moans and gasps mingling.

“Close,” she whimpered. “Please, chef. Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he purred, one hand sliding between them to play with her clit, just what she needed to tumble headlong into another orgasm, her tight heat clenching around him and sending him spilling into her. “Good girl,” he panted as their bodies stilled, pulling out and tucking himself back into his pants before getting some wet towels to clean her up.

“You did so well for me,” he praised, tossing the dirty towels in the trash.

“This...” Aelin trailed off, flushing a little as she righted her clothes. “This won’t affect the class in any way?”

“Besides me not being able to keep my eyes off you, baby?” He shook his head, sincerity on his face. “No. I promise it won’t.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. “Really, Rowan. Thank you.”

He kissed her cheek, the gesture shockingly tender. “See you...um, around?” He scratched the back of his neck a little awkwardly.

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138 notes - Posted June 29, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Prompt!

Aelin's horrible at cooking so when Aedion makes a bet that she can't learn how to cook in a month. So she starts going to cooking classes and the chef is Rowan

let me tell you, Rowan with a chef's knife took my mind in a whole new direction *facepalm* why am I like this?? thank you for the prompt!!! <3

word count: 1,738

warnings: language, suggestive content

enjoy 😏😏

Chaos In The Kitchen

“Fucking hell, Ae!” Aedion cried, waving his hands in front of his face in a futile effort to dissipate the cloud of smoke filling the kitchen. “Are you trying to burn down the fucking house?”

“No!” Aelin shrieked, stabbing at the smoke detector until it stopped beeping and running to open the kitchen window. “I’m trying to make fucking breakfast!”

Aedion raised one blonde brow at the blackened remains of bacon in the frying pan atop the stove. “You forget about the bacon or something?”

“Shut the fuck up,” she groaned, swatting him with a dish towel. “I did not forget, I was watching it closely while I mixed up the pancake batter.”

“And you turned away for one second and the bacon was smoking?”

“Asshole,” she grumbled. “No. I watched it, and then the piece of shit started sending up smoke.”

Her cousin doubled over, wheezing with laughter. “Only you, Ae,” he managed to gasp between guffaws. “Only you.”

“Asshole,” she repeated, laughing a little, wryly, herself. “I’m trying my best, Aeds. It doesn’t look like it, but I am.”

“You’re chaos in the kitchen, Ae,” Aedion grinned, slinging his arm around her shoulders. “I would pay to see the day where you manage to cook something without setting off the smoke detector.”

“Would you?” Sly challenge sparked in her eyes.

“Oh, for damn sure.” Aedion met her challenging gaze, wicked glee in his eyes. “In fact, let’s make a bet on it.”

Internally, Aelin groaned. The last bet she’d taken with her cousin had ended in her hair being dyed bright green for a month, and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to accept another of his lopsided wagers. “And just what kind of sure-win bullshit are you thinking of, Aeds?”

“I bet that you could take cooking classes for a month and still not know how to cook,” he smirked. “You win, I’ll pay for the lessons and shut up about you in the kitchen. I win, you have to go out with my friend.” His smirk grew. “So, do we have a bet?”

She raised her brows. “Define ‘knowing how to cook,’ oh wiseass cousin of mine.”

“You don’t set off the smoke detector and the food is edible.”

“And the friend?”

He clicked his tongue. “Mmm-mmm, Ae. Blind date.”

Aelin tilted her head, considering. Aedion paying for her to take cooking lessons...and shutting the hell up about her ineptitude in the kitchen...or a blind date with a friend of his? How could she possibly lose? “Fine. We have a bet.” She clasped his hand and shook, sealing it. “Same rules as always, Aeds?”

“Yep.” He winked. “No sabotage and no finding out about the other person’s consequences.”

“Right.” Aelin smirked at her smug cousin. “It’s a bet.”

Three hundred fucking dollars, Aelin grumbled to herself as she locked up her car and headed across the parking lot, and they couldn’t be bothered to give us basic cooking stuff? She checked her bag once more to make doubly sure she had all the things they’d told her to bring when she registered for these classes. A couple of wooden spoons, a whisk, a couple of spatulas, a set of measuring cups, and her own apron. Bloody cheap, it was. At least she was hopeful that she’s get her money’s worth, because she’d spent a ridiculously long time looking up all the available cooking classes in Orynth and reading the reviews to be sure she’d actually learn something.

No way in hell was Aedion winning this damn bet.

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153 notes - Posted June 28, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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into-the-clintoris · 2 years

Note

wait sorry this is confusing is this like a sincere attempt to rebrand the ship or

I don't know at this point. I mentioned at one point that I'm still going to tag future posts "taagnus" just because, yes, that is the ship name and I want my posts to show up in searches, but probably in posts, the first thing you look at, call it something else. It's not like a HUGE deal, but I did have two people in like, a day, say that they thought I meant taako x angus so I feel like it's not that ridiculous to say maybe we should change it.

This is just hilarious to me because there's so much weight behind it. You and that other anon (could be the same person idk). "rebrand." "the ship name has been established for years" THERE WAS A TIME, I say in my best old man voice, THAT WE WOULD HAVE ALL SAT AROUND A POST AND VOTED ON A SHIP NAME. People used to do that, remember those days? We used to brainstorm ship names for funsies. Even now, you see in the OFMD fandom some people saying GentleBeard, some saying, BlackBonnet, some saying KrakHouse and it all just coexists.

I was just like "hey guys let's play a fun game where we brainstorm fun names for this ship" I'm not like...claiming to have the authority to declare across the lands that it be called Magnaako or "rebranding" it (jesus god it is not a product it is a tag on tumblr dot com) but also I don't see why it would be a big deal if I were??? Sometimes, being clearer and more easily understood, is a good thing. Even if I have to ........ fuckin erase historical fandom precedent or whatever the fuck you people think is going on here

#thanks for the ask!#toby talks #taz #the adventure zone #taagnus #taagnus rebirth

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ranhaitanisgf · 3 years

Note

Hello so glad to see you write for Shinichiro!! Could I have some headcanons of spending the day as Shinichiro’s s/o with Shinichiro, Mikey, and Emma? Maybe having a picnic or going to the mall together? Just some fluffy Sano family time!

spending a day with shinichiro sano (feat. emma & manjiro sano): headcanons

[𖤐] hii anon; thank you for requesting this!! it was so cute and fluffy to write i kinda melted a little bit when i was writing this aaaa, i hope you like it!! <333

❧ masterlist

✂︎ honestly, the day was supposed to be just a casual date with shinichiro; going to the mall and doing some window shopping and maybe buying a few things, then going to the food court to get some food before riding to the riverside to watch the sunset. nothing really out there, but just spending time with him was enough for you, so you didn’t really need any sort of fancy date.

✂︎ at least, that was the original plan. you weren’t sure how you had ended up taking emma and mikey along with the two of you, but frankly, you didn’t really mind. there’s probably a lot of other people who would have some...thoughts, if their boyfriend’s little siblings tagged along on their date, but emma and mikey were always such sweethearts, (to you at least) so you actually thought it was a nice change of pace.

✂︎ hm, well, now that you think about it, the both of them coming wasn’t really supposed to happen in the first place. it was pretty nice weather out, so you and shinichiro had decided to walk to the mall instead of taking his bike. the both of you had figured it would be a nice change of pace and that the fresh air would do both of you some good, but you two were so wrapped up in your conversation with each other that you didn’t even notice the steps following you two. it wasn’t until you were almost at the mall that you and shinichiro had realized emma and mikey had tagged along.

“what were you thinking of buying, (y/n)?”

“hm, i’m not really too sure yet, maybe some-”

“i can’t believe that didn’t see us the entire walk!! we’re just that stealthy, emma!”

“what the hell-”

✂︎ and just like that, your date was crashed by the two little kids who had followed you on your way to the mall. according to emma, the only reason she was here was because she was trying to stop mikey, but by the time she finally was able to pull him back, she didn’t know how to get back home, so she just decided to follow you. according to mikey, he had followed you two because...well, just because he wanted to.

✂︎ mikey’s response earned him a punch on the head from shinichiro, who started yelling about how he can’t just crash his date, ‘just because he wants to’.

✂︎ it was obvious from his body language that shinichiro was feeling pretty exasperated from all this, and you can’t really blame him. i mean, who would expect for their little brother to purposefully follow him while he goes on a date?

“sorry about this (y/n), i should’ve noticed they were following us sooner. if you don’t mind, i can run them back real quick while you go look at some shops, how’s that?”

“...hm, actually, if it doesn’t bother you, how about we just take them with us? i don’t really mind that they came along; i really like emma and mikey, and if we take them with us, then you don’t have to go all the way back. is that alright with you?”

“are you sure, (y/n)? mikey can be a little troublemaker sometimes-”

“hey, shut up!! am not!!”

“yes you are!!”

“i’m sure it’s fine, now both of you stop yelling at each other, people are staring!!”

✂︎ gonna be honest here, the two of you looked like a family when you walked into the mall. mikey was sitting on shinichiro’s shoulders while shinichiro kept a firm grip on his legs, and emma was holding your much bigger hand in her smaller one, looking around a bit curiously.

✂︎ as you all walk around, looking at the different shops, there’s going to be a lot of commentary about literally everything from mikey. he’s going to be commentating on everything he sees, whether it’s clothing or a food stand that he wants to go try, his commentary will just be endless.

“do girls really wear that sort of thing??”

“woah, that looks super cool!”

“can we get the dorayaki that’s over there, (y/n)-nii?!”

✂︎ you’ll probably start to notice emma’s longing glances at some of the things that she sees in the windows. she won’t really say anything about it, but you can tell that it’s something she wants, so you’ll go into a couple of the stores with her, asking what it is that she wants. she’ll definitely be surprised at first, but she’ll get really excited that you’re willing to get stuff for her and will show you the things that she thinks are pretty. she’ll probably start talking about how she wants to be able to wear all of the cute stuff she saw in some of the other windows someday, so you just ruffle her hair and tell her that when the time comes, you’ll definitely buy it for her.

✂︎ your actions don’t go unnoticed by shinichiro, so he’ll just be waiting for you outside the store with mikey, looking at you with a small smile on his face. he doesn’t know why, but whenever he sees you getting along with her and mikey, it just warms his heart and reminds him of how much he loves you and how much he wants to be with you for the rest of his life.

“stop staring at (y/n)-nii, it’s weird.”

“wha- i wasn’t-!”

“yes you were! i saw you!!”

“be quiet mikey, i’m trying to have my moment!”

✂︎ ah, well, he actually does know why his heart skips a beat whenever he sees you smiling and getting along with emma and mikey, but he’ll save that for later.

✂︎ when you and emma walk out of the store, the giddy smile on her face makes shinichiro smile down at her before turning his gaze to you, who was looking at her with a giant grin on your face as well.

“let’s go look at some more places?”

“definitely!!”

✂︎ emma is a lot more vocal from that point onward, pointing out all the different things in the shops that she thinks would look best on you. she actually has a pretty good fashion sense, so you ended up buying some of the stuff that she suggested.

✂︎ she’ll even have you try on all the clothing that she picked out for you so that you can show shinichiro, (she whispers to you it’s so that he’s struck with love when he sees you). her plan definitely worked though; when you came out of the dressing room in the clothes she had picked out for you, shinichiro was wordless for a few moments, so captivated by you that he doesn’t even know what it is he should say. he’ll probably stutter out some words after a few moments, the broken sentence resembling that of a compliment, but you’re not quite sure since it’s all pretty broken up.

“wow, uh, you look, uh...wow, you’re very...wow…”

“shinichiro-nii, can’t you think of anything else?! i thought you were supposed to be their boyfriend!! you’re making my plan fail!!”

✂︎ mikey will probably be more interested in going to the food court, and will be asking every five minutes when you guys can be finished with window shopping so that he can eat because he’s absolutely starving, (it’s a lie, he just wants dorayaki).

✂︎ you’ll probably tell shinichiro that he should probably get some new clothing as well, with emma chiming in that his taste in clothes is kinda boring and that he should spice up his wardrobe, (he feels very wounded by this and puts a hand to his heart as if he’s been fatally shot). with that, the four of you will start to look for new clothes for shinichiro. it’s quite the serious mission, so the three of you will be closely examining him whenever he steps outside of the dressing rooms. it’s also like you three are judges at a fashion show, and if you could, you would all be holding up numbers that were rating his outfits, (the employees are fairly amused by all of this).

✂︎ after you all finally find some new clothes for shinichiro, you’ll be making your final stop at the food court, the place mikey has been pestering you about going to for the entire time you were there. he immediately dragged you all over to the dorayaki place, eagerly asking if he could get one. really though, how could you say no to those eyes?

✂︎ after getting everyone something to eat, you’ll all be sitting down, emma and mikey chomping down and their food, and you and shinichiro resting your feet after all the walking you had just done.

“remind me to never bring you to the mall on a date again.”

“what, you didn’t have fun?”

“no! no, that’s not it, i just...my wallet feels lighter than before…”

“you’re so dramatic sometimes, i swear.”

“but you love me.”

“...yes.”

✂︎ by the time you all are done with your food and are exiting the mall, it’s dark out, and emma and mikey are barely able to keep their eyes open, meaning that for the walk home, you were carrying emma on your back and shinichiro was carrying mikey. the walk back was rather peaceful, but what you enjoyed the most was the whispered conversation you were keeping up with your boyfriend, who was complaining about how mikey was drooling on his neck and he could feel it dripping down to his shoulder.

✂︎ after putting both the kids in their respective bedrooms and tucking them in, the two of you just crash on shinichiro’s bed, tired from all the events that had happened that day. you really had to admit though, it was times like these that you would always remember the most. the way he looked like when he was beside you, his eyes already closed as he rested his head on your arm. god, he looked so pretty…

“hmm, what do you think you’re doing?”

“just fixing the hair of my beautiful boyfriend, that’s all.”

“i see...carry on then.”

✂︎ neither of you bothered to change out of your clothes into pajamas, just deciding to leave them on and stay in each other’s embrace. in your opinion, there was truly no better way to end a day than to have shinichiro on your arms, his head fixed into the crook of your shoulder as he peppers kisses all over your neck and jaw.

“love you so much (y/n)...”

“mhm, i love you too.”

927 notes · View notes

scuttling · 3 years

Text

Happy Accidents

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,300 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Art, Neighbor Hotch, Shy and Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, It's soo sappy I'm sorry, Oral sex, Unprotected sex Summary: Aaron's new neighbor is out of his league for so many reasons: she's young, beautiful, artistic, unique, free-spirited, the kind of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. It's no wonder he ends up falling in love with her. *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! Against all of his better judgement, Aaron is kind of creeping on his new next door neighbor.

He is absolutely the type of man, any other time, to approach a woman he’s interested in and introduce himself, look for a way to connect, some common ground, but this is no ordinary woman.

She is out of his league in so many ways: young, beautiful, unique, free-spirited, the type of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. There’s not a chance in hell she would look twice at an old, stuffy, monotone suit with a seven year old son and perpetual bags under his eyes. That’s not him feeling bad about himself, it’s just the way the world works.

The first time he saw her, she was getting on the elevator while he was getting off of it, and they’d bumped into each other; she was wearing a short, flowy dress, and she’d smiled at him, apologized, eyes sparkling, smelling like she’d spent all day in the sunshine. It was the only time since Haley he’d ever entertained the idea of love at first sight.

She keeps to herself most of the time, gives off the air of being really cool and mysterious; their paths have crossed a few times since then—at the bank of mailboxes downstairs, in the hallway they share, once during a false alarm fire alarm—but he enjoys watching her paint more than anything.

They have balconies next to each other, and one night when he was tending to his herb garden—Jack enjoys watching the plants grow, and picking the herbs, Aaron likes to eat them—he spotted her standing on hers, facing away from him, in cut off jean shorts and a baggy t-shirt, barefoot. She’d been painting the city, the sky, with the sunset glowing behind her like she was the work of art, and he actually felt an ache in his chest, the feeling of missing someone he’s never really met.

Since that night, he’s started taking his work outside in the evenings after Jack goes to bed, and sitting in near silence while she paints, hums—sometimes songs he knows, sometimes songs he doesn’t. The first time he goes out before she does, she says hello when she drags her easel out, so he starts to say hello to her when she beats him there, too, but that’s pretty much the extent of their interaction. One evening when Aaron and Jack are getting home from dinner, she is lugging a canvas bigger than she is through the hallway and Jack almost runs headfirst into it; when he looks up, he exclaims about how big it is, and pretty—it’s covered with colors, something abstract and cheerful, and even if he’d seen it on the side of the road, he would have just known that she painted it. (That may be a good indicator that he’s getting in a little too deep.)

“Wow, that’s the biggest painting I’ve ever seen! And so many colors,” Jack says, awed. Aaron puts his hands on his shoulders to keep him out of her way; they’re already bothering her enough, when she’s clearly trying to get that giant thing home.

“It’s pretty cool, isn’t it? I carry bigger pieces around at my studio, believe it or not,” she says to him, poking her head around the side to look at him.

“You have a studio?” His eyes are wide with interest; his favorite subject has always been art, as evidenced by their refrigerator, which is covered in drawings. She offers him an even brighter smile.

“I do! It’s not far from here; it’s called Live in Color. There’s a big rainbow painted on the side.”

“That’s so cool; it must be awesome to have your own studio.” Aaron loves that Jack seems to be so passionate about this, but the way they are obviously holding her up has him feeling awkward; he tugs gently on Jack’s backpack.

“That is really cool, bud, but we should let her go. I’m sure that’s heavy.” She smiles, shrugs.

“It’s no trouble. Hey, actually, we have some children’s art classes at the studio, and you look like you’d fit right in with the Green group—ages 7-9?” She looks up at Aaron, who nods. “Maybe we can talk dad into bringing you down sometime. We do painting, drawing, and crafts, it’s really fun.” She’s still looking right at Aaron, gives him a little wink, and he swears to god he gets butterflies in his stomach.

He’s a grown man. A federal agent. With butterflies. It’s insane.

“Oh man, dad, please? Can I take classes at her studio pleeease?” Jack tugs on the sleeve of his suit, and he nods, smiles down at him.

“Yeah, absolutely, Jack. We’ll go down and get more information tomorrow?” he offers, to both placate him and finally free the poor girl from the conversation; he nods excitedly, and she smiles, looks sweet, genuinely happy Jack is so excited to take the class.

“Cool, I look forward to seeing you guys there. Actually, if you give me one sec, I can grab my card for you.” She passes them, carrying the canvas and looking effortless while she does it; she props it up against the wall to get her keys out, unlocks her door and heads in, pops back out with a business card in a vivid watercolor yellow. “It has the address and phone number for the studio on the front, and I put my cell on the back; I figured it couldn’t hurt, considering we live next door to each other. Now you know who to call if you ever have an art emergency.”

He takes the card from her fingers, flips it over just to see the handwritten name and number; he knew her script would be lovely, and it is, easy and flowing and natural. It suits her. He tries not to grin, or flush, or otherwise be awkward about the fact that she just gave him her phone number, however innocently.

“Thank you. We’ll see you tomorrow.” They turn to head for their apartment, and she clears her throat; he smiles a little, turns back, and she’s leaning casually up against the canvas with her arms crossed.

“You know my name now. What’s yours?” She’s just being polite, but he gets the goddamn butterflies again.

“Aaron.” She smiles, something beautiful and a little wild.

“Okay, Aaron. See you outside.” From then on, most of their free time, be it evenings or weekends, is spent at the studio. Aaron isn’t the only parent who sticks around—it’s an art class, not a daycare, he doesn’t feel right just dropping Jack off and leaving him there—and he’s also not the only parent, it seems, who is aware of his beautiful young neighbor.

“She’s incredible, right?” another dad says to him one evening, over by the coffee. Aaron looks him over briefly—it’s a job hazard, he sizes up everyone, but he already has a weird feeling about this guy. “I’ve been bringing my kid here for a month just to look at that little ass running around. My wife just thinks our daughter is just really into art.” He says it with a laugh, like that’s a ridiculous concept. Aaron feels himself start to boil.

“You shouldn’t be disrespectful. She’s doing a great thing here, for the children; she’s not doing it for you to ogle her.” He feels a little hypocritical, because he is also looking, but not like this guy. He knows guys like this. He puts away guys like this.

He glances over at Aaron, looking a little taken aback that someone actually commented on his behavior, then rolls his eyes.

“She doesn’t need you to defend her honor, buddy. She wouldn’t run around here in those overalls if she didn’t want us looking. It’s job security.” She’s wearing the overalls tonight, denim shorts with one of the straps unhooked, a t-shirt underneath, but it’s not as if she’s performing a striptease. She just looks like an artist, covered in drips of paint, smiling as she looks at the kids’ pictures over their shoulders. Aaron really, really hates this guy.

“In my experience, women usually dress for themselves; they probably have pockets, easier to keep things at hand that she may need, and it’s warm in here, so she’s likely dressing for comfort. She’s certainly not dressing for you.”

As if she can sense the tension, she looks over at them, flicks her eyes over Aaron, then the other guy, and walks over with a soft smile on her face.

“Hey, Aaron, Jack really wanted you to see what he’s working on.” She reaches out a hand, wraps it around his wrist and guides him over to Jack’s table. “I figured I’d save you,” she says when they’re out of earshot. “That guy sucks. He’s always saying creepy things to me and Alaina.”

“You should ask him to leave if he makes you uncomfortable,” he says, looking down at her with worry. “I can do it.” She shrugs.

“I would, but his daughter really does enjoy the class, and it’s not fair to her that her dad’s disgusting. It’s nothing we can’t handle.” She squeezes his wrist lightly. “Thanks, though. Hey Jack, show dad your project.” He peers over his shoulder, and it’s a pink and orange skyline, much like the one he saw her painting that first time on the balcony. “I asked the kids to paint my favorite thing today, and that’s sunset.”

“I saw you painting this one night,” he says, and then he feels abruptly like an idiot. She just smiles at him though, nods.

“Yeah, I’m a sucker for a beautiful sunset. It makes you feel like, just because the day ends, it doesn’t have to mean things are over; it’s just one of life’s beautiful natural transitions. And the colors are to die for: peach, coral, jasmine, rose, tiger’s eye.” He finds himself unexpectedly touched by her description, smiles softly to shake himself of the emotions.

“The way you see the world is extraordinary. To me it’s just kind of… orange.” She returns his expression, but softer, and squeezes his wrist again; he didn’t even realize she was still holding it.

“Sounds like you need some art in your heart. I give lessons for adults, too; you could even come over and paint with me on my balcony, some time. Special neighbor privileges.”

The thought of being with her on her balcony while she paints is almost overwhelming, which he finds funny, considering he currently sits no more than twenty feet away. There is an intimacy about it, while they both do their work in the cool, quiet breeze, but standing like this, close enough to touch, with the late day sun on her face while she talks about colors… he’s not sure he could handle it without falling in love.

She pats him on the back, moves on to another child, and he tells Jack what a great job he’s doing; his face is lit up, so happy, and regardless of the neighbor, he’s glad they stumbled upon this hobby.

When they pack up to leave, the jerk from earlier comes up to him, leans in to speak in a hushed voice. “You should have just told me you were fucking her. I would have backed off.” He blinks, but the guy and his daughter are walking out the door before he finds himself able to do more than that. About a week later, he goes over for that lesson almost by accident. Jack is at Jessica’s for the night at his request, and Aaron was planning to order takeout and have a paperwork cramming session, but when goes out onto the balcony, phone in hand to place an order, his neighbor is standing on hers like she’s waiting for him.

“Hey. I saw you don’t have Jack; I made some pasta with vodka sauce, if you’re hungry. I always prepare too much.” He sets his phone on the table, walks over to the railing to get a little closer.

“Uh. Sure. I have fresh basil growing here; trade?” She smiles, nods.

“Yeah, sounds delicious. I’ll be right back.” She ducks inside, returns a few moments later with two dishes of steaming, saucy pasta, sets one down on her table and gets right up against her railing, hands the other over to him across his. “That one’s for you,” she says, handing him an orange plate, and he sets it down, picks a few good looking leaves from his basil plant and tears them up, drops them on top. “And this one’s for me.” She reaches, holds a green plate over the gap between their porches, and he adds some basil to it before she pulls it back, takes a deep sniff. “God, it smells so good and fresh. Thank you, Aaron.”

“Thank you, it looks great.” He goes to sit at his table with it, but she scoots her chair closer to the railing, closer to his balcony, so he does the same. They make easy small talk while they eat, mostly about Jack, a little about her studio and his work.

“FBI, huh? I can definitely see that, with your suits, and your… neutrals.” She cringes when she says it, and it makes him laugh.

“I’m sorry I can’t wear paint covered overalls to the office,” he teases, and she shoots him a playfully affronted look, grins.

“You love my paint covered overalls—and for the record, you’d look great in them. You should find a pair. Preferably not black.” He flushes a little at that, but she doesn’t notice, just finishes up her pasta with a sigh of contentment. “That was so good, thanks again for the basil.”

“You’re welcome; thanks for feeding me something other than the takeout I planned to have.” He stands up, gestures to his apartment. “I’ll wash the plate and then hand it back over.”

“Why don’t you just bring it over and come paint with me for a little while? If you want,” she tacks on, and for the first time she seems a little nervous. “I’m not trying to be pushy, I just think it would be fun.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want to; it would be amazing to watch her paint up close and personal. He’s just also afraid he’ll pass the point of no return if he does it, and he can’t handle any more heartache. He only very recently got to a place where just waking up in the morning no longer causes him agony.

It’s the look on her face, though, soft and sweet and open, that makes his decision for him.

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.” She grins.

“I’ll unlock the door.”

She’s dragging out her easel when he walks through the door; her apartment is stark white walls with vibrant furniture, artwork, canvases propped up against every bare spot along the wall, paints and brushes and charcoal and pencils on every surface. It’s exactly what he would have expected, warm and lived-in and comforting, very unlike the mostly black and gray interior of his own apartment. She smiles when she sees him.

“Hey! Can you grab that tray of paint on your way out?” she asks, and he picks up what looks kind of like an ice cube tray filled with many different colors, carries it out to the balcony with him. She has a canvas propped up, a little larger than a computer monitor, and she’s gotten started, but he can’t tell what it’s going to be just yet. When he hands her the paint she looks down at it, peers around the edge of the canvas like she’s comparing something. He’s so intrigued, curious about the way her mind works, what she’s thinking.

“What are you painting?” he asks when she picks up a brush, sets it down, picks up another. She smiles at him.

“Well, we’re painting that.” She points to the street, where there’s a rusty, pale blue antique car parked—he says that loosely, because it looks broken down—in the alley. Aaron chuckles softly.

“We’re going to paint that? It’s a little… grim.”

“Yes. It’s part of a series I just decided to create: ‘Beauty in the Ordinary.’” She sighs, and he’s surprised to see that her eyes are a little wet. She wipes the back of her hand over her eyes. “You know Bob Ross, right? Everyone knows Bob Ross.” He nods.

“Yes; the guy who paints the happy trees on PBS.”

“Right. I used to watch him growing up, and I vividly remember something he said once, about needing both darkness and light in life and in painting. ‘You have to have a little sadness once in a while to know when the good times come. I’m waiting on the good times now.’” She sniffles, exhales softly. “I’m waiting on the good times too. Sometimes looking at things like this car, and forcing myself to find something beautiful in it, is the easiest way to get through the day. Does that make sense?” He swallows hard when she looks up at him, because aside from Jack, she has been the lightest part of his life since the first time they passed each other on the elevator.

“Yeah, it really does.” She shoots him a soft, slightly sadder smile, and then explains about the paints a little, shows him the difference in the brushes, lets him feel the weight of them, the textures of the bristles.

She starts painting the car—the background is mostly finished—and he’s more than happy to watch, to hear her talk about her process. She asks if she can use his forearm to mix paints, and he turns it over, wrist up, tries not to smile too hard when she puts some dark blue on him, then white, mixing them and then comparing them to the car on the street. He looks down at her, the concentration on her face, the softness in her eyes, and is met with the sudden desire to brush a line of paint over her nose and make her laugh and kiss her breathless.

“Okay, your turn,” she says when she’s about halfway done with the car. She puts her hands on the backs of his arms, pulls him in front of the canvas so she’s between him and the railing. “You’ve been watching me, so you know what to do.” He has been watching her, but not necessarily for her technique, so he’s a little nervous; he dips the brush in the blue paint but hesitates to make a stroke. “I have faith in you, Aaron. Here.”

She wraps her fingers around his hand, guides him toward the canvas, and together they make a wide, curved line, rounding out the bumper. It doesn’t look half bad.

“It gets easier once you understand the relationship between specific paint, specific brushes, and your hands,” she says softly, and she helps him paint another line. “Are you having fun? You look stressed,” she teases, and he makes it a point to relax his face.

“I’m having a lot of fun,” he says, looking down at her; they make eye contact for a long moment, and she leans a little closer, and he leans a little closer, and then he accidentally dabs a blob of blue onto the canvas. He pulls back, grimaces, deflates. “I made a mistake. You can’t erase paint, right?” She laughs softly, takes the brush from his hand.

“No, you can’t erase paint, but as Mr. Ross would say, ‘There are no mistakes, only happy accidents.’” She gets her fingers close to the tip of the brush, makes a few quick movements, then grabs another brush, dips it in green. When she pulls back, there is a little blue flower growing out of a patch of grass where his blob used to be. He exhales, a little amazed.

“If only the mistakes we make in life were that easy to fix,” he says, and she nods.

“Yeah, that would be nice, but a lot of the time we find a way to turn them into beautiful things eventually. Are you willing to give it another shot?” He says yes, and she guides his hand for a while, then just hovers near it, then just instructs him on what to do. It’s dark before their painting is finished, and she carries it inside to dry, then takes him to the kitchen sink to scrub the paint off of his arm.

“Thanks for having me over; I had a really good time,” he murmurs as she dries his clean skin. She looks up, smiles softly, nods her head.

“I had a really good time too. I’m glad you came over; you’re welcome to join me any time.”

He says goodbye, heads home, looks at his stack of work with a groan, and brews a pot of coffee. He’s in for a long night, but he wouldn’t change his evening for anything. Life is much the same for the next few weeks: school and work, Jack’s art class at the studio a couple times a week, painting on the balcony on the weekend, with and without Jack. When Jack joins them for the first time, she pulls out a big box of markers and thick sheets of paper and he draws elaborate scenes while they talk and paint together. When Aaron makes mistakes, she’s never upset, just turns them into perfect little details that end up being his favorite parts of the paintings.

“What ever happened with your ‘Beauty in the Ordinary’ series?” he asks one evening while they’re painting some ocean waves. “Did I cause you enough trouble with the car to give up?” She looks down at the ground, looks a little shy, then shakes her head and smiles.

“No, you didn’t make me want to give up. I’ve been working on it at the studio. You’ll see it when it’s all done, I plan to hang them there.”

“Looking forward to it,” he tells her, and then Jack tugs on her shorts, shows them the picture he drew of the ocean, too.

Later that week, the team takes a case, and on the day he’s set to come home, Jessica drops Jack off at the studio with the plan that Aaron will pick him up when his flight lands. Due to some weather between where the team is and home, they get a little delayed; he doesn’t want to make Jessica head back out that way almost immediately after dropping him off, but he’s not sure who else he could ask to pick Jack up. It’s almost a stupid length of time before it dawns on him to call the studio.

“Life in Color, this is Alaina.”

“Alaina, hi, this is Jack’s dad—” He has his whole spiel prepared, but she cuts him off.

“Oh, sure, hang on a sec, she’s right here. It’s Jack’s dad,” she says, but it sounds further away, like she’s trying to cover the receiver. After a moment, his neighbor picks up.

“Aaron, hi. Jack said you were working.”

“Yeah, I was, and I’m supposed to pick him up after class, but our flight was delayed.” He doesn’t know how to ask for help with Jack; even with all the time they’ve been spending together, she still makes him a little nervous. Luckily, he doesn’t have to figure that part out on his own.

“Hey, that’s no problem. If it’s okay with you, I’ll just take him home with me. I’ll order pizza, we’ll draw, and you can just stop by when you’re home and pick him up.” He breathes a sigh of relief, runs a hand over the back of his head.

“That would be perfect. Thank you—I’ll owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything. Hanging out with your mini me is reward enough; he’s painting something special for you today, won’t let me see it.” That makes him smile, and he feels so warm at the prospect of picking him up from her bright apartment, seeing his artwork, her smile. After a long, draining day like this one, it’s exactly what he needs.

“I’ll have to remain in suspense until tonight, I guess. Can you let him know I said hi? And thank you, I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Of course. We’ll see you then.”

It’s late, after nine, by the time he makes it home. He doesn’t even take his bags inside, just drops them outside his door and knocks softly on hers. She answers with a smile, ushers him in, asks him if he’d like a drink and gets them each a beer.

Jack is in her room, asleep, so they have a little time to chat; she asks about his flight, his case, and he asks about the studio, and she gets a little shy when it comes to that topic, clears her throat.

“Um. I have Jack’s secret project, if you want to see it. He said I could show you.” He’s not sure why that would make her nervous—at least, until he sees it.

The background is all watercolors, a gradient of rainbow colors starting with pink at the top and ending with a soft purple at the bottom. Over that, in black marker, he’s drawn the three of them, with a big heart around them.

“Tonight’s theme was the thing that makes you the happiest, and he said he’s the happiest when the three of us are on the balcony together. It was… really, really sweet.” She looks up at him, brushes a hand over the crown of her head. “If I’m being honest, that’s when I’m the happiest, too.” He takes the picture from her hands, runs his fingers over it, and smiles, feeling a warm ache in his chest—not like before, not like losing someone he’s never really met, but like finding something he never really planned on.

“That’s when I’m the happiest, too,” he agrees, and when he looks up, she looks determined, like she does when trying to find just the right shade of paint. She takes Jack’s picture out of his hand, sets it on the counter, and then pulls him down by the lapels of his suit, kisses him long and slow. His hands move to her waist, keeping her close, and eventually she pauses for breath, looks at him again, and then wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him some more.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the first time I saw you—tall and dark and serious, striding out of the elevator. So intriguing, mysterious,” she breathes when they separate again. “I wanted to know everything about you.”

“Are you kidding?” he asks, huffing a laugh. “I’m boring, but you are so vibrant, so full of life; I felt like you were everything I wasn’t, and I wanted to know you so badly.”

“You know me now; would you like to keep getting to know me?” It’s one of the easiest questions he’s ever been asked; he nods, and she beams, and he lifts her into his arms and carries her to the couch, drapes himself over her while she leans back against the cushions, pulling him closer.

They make out like neither of them have a care in the world—god, how long has it been since he’s made out with someone?—her fingers scraping through his hair, his hands on her bare waist when her shirt rides up, and she’s in the process of pushing his jacket off his shoulders when they hear a sound from the other room that startles them apart. Jack.

“I’ll go check on him,” Aaron says, and when he goes into her room Jack is still snuggled up on her bed sound asleep. It looks like some canvases fell over, though, and he stoops to pick them up, then spots the car they painted together. He turns and she’s right behind him, skids to a stop. “I thought you said these were at the studio?”

“They were,” she says, and she looks nervous again. “But I changed my mind about hanging them there. They felt too personal.” He runs his hand over the car and sees where she’s coming from; this one feels personal to him, too.

“Can I see the rest?” he asks. “Only if you want to show me them.”

“You’re the only one I want to show them to,” she says with a soft smile, and she grabs a few more canvases, carries them into the light of the living room. “Beauty in the ordinary, remember.” He remembers, could never forget.

She turns one over, and it’s a kitchen sink, and in the kitchen sink is an orange plate with a fork resting on it—like the plate she’d given him with the pasta on it. She turns one over and it’s a man’s hand, holding a paintbrush, with pale blue paint on his forearm. The next one is a little herb garden on a balcony; the next one is a view from above, of a sandy haired boy with markers all around him. The last one is an open elevator—ripe with possibilities.

When he looks up at her, she’s got tears in her eyes, and one slips down her cheek.

“So, I think I’ve found my good times.” She smiles through her tears, and he takes her face in his hands and kisses the salt from her lips. “I love you,” she says when he pulls back to wipe her face with his sleeve, and he kisses her softly, again and again, and tells her he loves her, too. The next weekend, Jack is at Jessica’s for a sleepover, and Aaron has been enlisted to help with an art project. He walks next door, knocks lightly, and enters the living room; he is met with a very deep, passionate kiss and a smile, and instructions to help move the furniture out of the way.

“I’m really curious what kind of art requires this much floor space,” he says, shoving her couch back against the wall, and she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, a move he has been unable to resist since she did it the first time they had sex. She knows it’s a weakness, exploits it, and he loves every minute of it.

“You’ll see, but I promise you’re going to like it.” When they clear the floor, she grabs a large, rolled-up fabric canvas and lays it out in the middle of the room, then drops three bottles of paint—one is yellow (jasmine), one is orange (peach), and one is kind of pink (coral? He’s still not sure.)—onto it. “You can obviously say no if you want, but I wanted something over my bed with the sunset colors, and I found this…” She steps closer to him, runs her hands down his chest, guides him down for a kiss so delicious he loses his train of thought. “It’s sex art; we put the paint on the canvas, and on ourselves, and… you know, go at it. What do you think?”

He thinks he really, really loves art now, even more than he thought possible.

“So we have paint-covered sex and then you just hang it on the wall? Like regular art?”

“Yep, I got the supplies I’ll need to hang it; letting it dry will probably take the longest. I figured we could shower while it’s drying, maybe go for round two, if you’re up for it.” She moves her hand to his waist, slips it inside his shorts, and he pulls her closer to his body. “Are you up for it, Aaron?”

That is an understatement.

Undressing happens extremely fast, because this is really sexy and they’re kind of in a phase where they can’t keep their hands off of each other anyway. She pulls her hair up onto the top of her head to try to minimize the amount of paint in it, and then she pours paint on the canvas, turns around and drizzles some on his back and tells him to lay down.

“I think we should probably change positions often so we get a lot of motion on the canvas; I apologize to your old knees in advance,” she teases, but she soothes the sting of her words by pouring paint on herself and then laying between his legs and licking at his dick. “Do some stuff with your hands; I want to see those big handprints on my wall,” she murmurs, and he groans, puts his palms down in the paint and drags them through it.

She leans up a little, sliding her knees through some yellow paint, sucks him fully, deeply into her mouth for couple of minutes, and then stretches forward and puts an orange hand right in the middle of his chest; the look in her eyes is playful, and he reaches out with one finger, hooks it under her chin, and guides her off and up so they can kiss.

“Your turn,” he says with a smirk, and then he gets her onto her back and ducks between her legs, hopes she doesn’t grab for his hair like she usually does. He rubs his pointed tongue over her clit, waits for the mmm it always elicits, and looks up at her, covers each of her breasts with a paint-covered palm and squeezes. “Leave handprints for me,” he leans up and reminds her, kissing her stomach, and she plants her hands, then presses up and grabs his shoulder, smearing pink down his back. “Oh, you wanted more of that?”

“Don’t tease me, the paint will dry,” she whines, and he spreads her thighs wider with his elbows and licks her pussy quickly, until she’s squirming against the canvas and panting for more. “Come here, come here.”

He’s not ready for that, though, paint or not, wants her to come from this; he takes his hands off of her, dips them in the paint again and presses down, then puts his hands under her ass and brings her closer so he can fuck her with his tongue, quick and deep and slick.

“Aaron, Aaron, god.” She slides her hands down his arms, over his neck, digs her nails in when she comes moaning like music.

While she catches her breath, so gorgeous, she sticks her arms out like she’s making a snow angel, and he catches her while she’s off guard and turns her onto her stomach, puts his hands on the smears of paint he’s already left on her ass, and slides inside.

“Oh my god; I was trying to impress you with this sexy art project, but you’re rocking my world.” She’s breathless, pressing back into his thrusts and painting with her entire body. God, he loves her mind.

“You know I always take your projects very seriously,” he says, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, and she groans, laughs.

“Yes you do. From the side? Let’s lay diagonally.” They shift, and he hooks his chin over her shoulder, kisses her neck and huffs hot against her hair. “Hmm, love it like this,” she sighs, and she reaches back to press her hand to his hip, holding him while he moves inside her. “I love you.”

“Love you. I want you to finish on top of me,” he instructs with a wet kiss to her throat, and she nods against his lips.

“Yeah, next; I’m getting close.” A few more strokes and she gets up onto her knees, lets him lay back, propped up on his arms, and climbs on top of him; she kisses him slow and dirty and then runs her hands over him, sits back on his dick and glides up and down. “You wanna come like this too? I owe you a little world rocking,” she says with a flick of her tongue over his bottom lip, and he nods, squeezes her thigh.

“It’s the least you can do after making me move all the heavy furniture.” She rolls her eyes but kisses his chin, down his throat, and bounces harder on him, all delicious eye contact and moans. “Mmm. Just like that, baby, come for me.”

“Fuck. I will, I will.” She wraps a hand around the back of his neck, kisses him kind of rough and with lots of tongue, and then tips her head back and climaxes, clenches, wrings his orgasm out of him so quickly it’s almost jarring. “Oh, yes Aaron. So good,” she mumbles, and then he lays back, out of breath, and she slides out of his lap and lays beside him, out of breath too.

After a moment, she looks over at him, smiles, and swipes a pink fingertip over his cheek.

“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever done with anyone. I’m glad I got to do it with you.” He rolls on top of her, presses a kiss to her nose, and nods.

“Me too. You know,” he adds after a moment, “my bedroom could use some artwork, too.” She grins, wraps her arms around him and squeezes tight.

“You’re right; I think we should do yours in blue: liberty, that’s dark blue; periwinkle, that’s light blue; maybe steel gray, too.”

“You’re the expert. I’m just your paintbrush.” Her hands smooth up his back, and contentment washes over him like a warm breeze.

“Hmm. I like the sound of that. Want to get cleaned up?”

Cleaning up is almost as fun as making the mess, because they’re well and truly covered, and when the canvas dries, the sunset colors are almost as beautiful as the ones she used the first time he ever saw her paint. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #ask answered #anon #prompt

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thesolferino · 4 years

Text

True Calling

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ word count: 3.9k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: dream meets his favorite singer on an among us livestream.

“Dude, what could go wrong? Just do it.”

“What could go wrong?! Literally so many things, you ass.”

Dream heard Sapnap sigh through the mic right into his headphones, the dim grey of his Discord background doing barely anything to illuminate his features as he stared at his open messages blankly.

“First of all, don’t.. speak to me like that, I am doing you a favour by sitting here and listening to you panic about stupid shit. Second of all, nothing big could go wrong. What, you’re a little awkward in the beginning, maybe, and that’s it.” Dream adjusted his headphones a little bit, Sapnap’s rant flowing into his ears but dissipating somewhere halfway to his brain, because, yes, things could go wrong and he can’t be proven otherwise.

“Did you forget that I’m a public figure? And that my fans are insane? I say one wrong thing and it’ll be memed and haunt me in my dreams. Did you forget that SHE’s a public figure? And that this is live? God…” he retorts back, listening to Sapnap helplessly sigh once again in response. He anxiously switches from his Discord to Twitter, then to YouTube, to Twitch and then back to Discord, frantically clicking around. In reality, he knows Sapnap is right, and it’s anxiety whispering into his ear that he’s gonna somehow fuck up, but maybe it’s simply easier to stay and argue with him into the night instead of actually responding to that message.

The stream is still going. Quackity’s voice speaks over Sapnap’s quiet breathing. “Damn, he’s still not responding. Um, let me try Tubbo, maybe?”

Before he knows it, the opportunity to join the stream is slipping out of his fingers, and Dream isn’t sure if he’s happy about that or not. On one hand, he gets to meet one of his favorite artists whose album he’s played way too many times to count, and on the other, the chances of him embarrassing himself in front of that same artist and a hundred thousand other people are extremely high, and he’s not sure if he likes the odds of that.

“Man, I don’t know. You won’t listen to me, anyway. Don’t join if you don’t want to.” Dream hears the annoyed tinge in Sapnap’s voice, and that’s what pours the last bit of courage into his veins because the best way to do anything in life is to follow Sapnap’s advice after you’ve already irritated him to the point of defeat, and he murmurs a quick “bye” and hangs up before the other can even respond, typing a rapid “Sure, send me the VC link” back to Quackity.

He hears a delighted exhale coming from his Twitch tab just as Quackity forwards him the link. “Okay, nevermind, we’ve got Dream! He’ll join in a second.”

With that, he swiftly closes the Twitch tab and with an encouraging sip of water, he finally joins the Discord voice chat with the rest of the players. Your Discord image sticks out like a sore thumb to him despite being a super basic, Googleable picture of you that he’s probably seen a million times by now, and upon seeing it, reality slaps him right over the face and he realises that, oh shit, he actually joined.

“Hey everyone.” Dream speaks into the mic and a mix of excited voices greets him at the same time as he loads up the game. Your icon is missing the green halo. He stares at it, as if you’ll magically speak up if he stares long and hard enough. That, apparently, works.

Pokimane’s “Dream, hi!” seems to set something off in your brain, and you speak again.

“Oh, Dream?” the green halo appears, and Dream resists the urge to say something stupid or bite his hand or anything of the sort when you say his name. “Aren’t you the guy who listens to my music all the time?” you giggle.

Quackity laughs loudly in his usual fashion, and Dream feels his hands go cold as the Among Us loading page pops up. “Wh-huh?”

“Yeah, you-you listen to my music a lot! Your fans always tag me under that… ‘Dream’s Spotify’ Twitter account, I remember you.” Dream swears his heart is about to jump out of his chest and start bouncing around on the floor because his ribs are way too restrictive for that type of movement, but he tries his best to play it cool and laughs lightheartedly.

“I do! I’m, like, your biggest fan.” he grins, as if you can see him, and you laugh in return.

“Yeah, man, you pay my rent. Thanks.” you say and a couple of people laugh while Dream inputs the code and his character finally pops up, immediately running around like the rest of the group. He runs around your purple character and hears you chuckle as you run around him too, but not for long, because the game starts and everyone mutes themselves. He audibly sighs, because he can afford to, considering he’s not streaming and nobody can hear the amount of courage this whole thing is taking him.

A notification pops up on his screen - the Dream Team group chat seems to be talking. Must’ve already found some way to make fun of me, he thinks to himself as he huffs out a large breath and runs through cafeteria and weapons to do his tasks in navigation. Corpse is hot on his tail the whole time, and not to say he’s an untrustworthy guy, but Dream isn’t really looking forward to getting killed before even speaking to you properly, so he runs around, trying to find somebody to stick with so Corpse doesn’t shove a knife in his back while he’s doing a task.

Thankfully, Karl emerges somewhere from the direction of storage right into communications where Dream was going, too. Just as Dream starts finishing download and Corpse and Karl line up behind him, his screen flashes bright red and white and the bold letters “Dead body reported” pop up. Everyone unmutes themselves and his eyes bore into your character, immediately.

“Alright, the body was in top left of the… uh, upper engine. I need everyone’s positions.” Rae immediately spoke.

“I was in electrical, I-I went through cafeteria to the upper engine with Poki, there was nobody there, we did our tasks, went down to lower engine, then Poki left with Toast, and I went to electrical and the body was reported.” Sykkuno said, and Pokimane confirmed with a hum of agreement.

“Dream?” Rae asked, and he spoke up.

“I never even went that way, I went through weapons to nav, and then to communications, and then the body was found. Corpse can vouch for me because he was following me the entire time and I kinda thought he was gonna kill me. And Karl saw me in communications, us three were all together when you… reported the body.” He rambled, trying to defend himself.

“Yeah, it’s true, he was with me the whole time.” Corpse supported.

“Karl, which way did you get to communications?” Toast asked.

“Uh, through storage.” Karl replied quickly.

“That’s funny, ‘cause I was in security, and I could swear I saw you walk past.” Toast said, and a couple of “ooh”s echo through the call.

“That makes no sense because even if I did go that way, I wouldn’t have time to get to communications and start doing my task with Dream and Corpse if I killed Ethan! And Rae, you-you saw me do my task in storage!” Karl loudly defended himself.

“...that… that’s true, yeah.” she said.

“If you ask me, Toast, you’re being real sus for lying about that.” Karl threw it back at Toast, who protested.

“Listen, I didn’t say you killed anybody, I just said I saw someone run past!” he claimed.

“Bretman and Y/N are being real quiet, though.” Corpse points out, and the green halo around your icon lights up once again.

“Oh shit, I didn’t realise I was muted. Sorry, guys.” you laughed. “Um, I was with… Quackity, in… what’s that shit on the right called?”

“O2.” Quackity quickly jumped in.

“Right, O2. I went to… top left, first, and I did my tasks there, and then to weapons and then to O2, and then the body was reported.”

“You were in top left?” Rae repeated.

“Yeah.”

“And was there anyone with you?”

“Um… no? I was alone, and then I saw Quackity in top right, and then we went to, uh, O2 together.” you said and Corpse sighed loudly.

“That means she could’ve had the time to kill Ethan and run.” Toast points out.

“Hey! I didn’t kill anyone! I don’t even know how this game works…” you whined into the mic and Quackity laughed.

“Yeah, I dunno Y/N, you were dancing real suspiciously around me…” he said, causing you to defend yourself louder.

“Why would I kill anyone?! I don’t even know how to do that, I’m a nice person!”

“I don’t think she did it, guys.” Dream pipes up, tugging at the wire of his headphones absentmindedly.

“Shut up, you simp.” Quackity fires back instantly, making everyone in the call laugh, including Dream.

“Damn right, I’m a Y/N simp. She can do no wrong. I mean, look at that innocent face! She did nothing, I’m-I’m sure.” He argued, making you cover your mouth and giggle.

“Their face is literally the same as everyone’s! We’re all astronauts!” Rae protested, but Dream kept shaking his head.

“No, hers is more innocent.” he said. “Toast, why are you so set on accusing everyone, anyway?”

“Oh, you’re so not attacking Toast right now-”

“Guys, I think we should skip.” Sykkuno pipes up to calm the conversation, and everyone agrees, even though most of them mumble “sus” under their breath as soon as they mute their mics.

Dream’s tiny green astronaut stomps his way over to the left side immediately, changing paths this time and making his way into the Upper Engine, trying to finish his tasks in time and possibly find someone to accompany him so he at least doesn’t have to argue over his alibi. He had four tasks left, two of them in Upper Engine, so after that he was free to roam around wherever his heart desired. Just as he started doing one of them, he watched your purple character step in and run circles around him, earning you a quiet laugh that he didn’t know he uttered until he heard himself do it and silently scolded himself for getting that flustered at something so simple.

The two of you did your tasks together before going down to reactor. Just as Dream started doing one of his tasks, a dead body was reported again and he unmuted himself as Toast immediately started borderline yelling into his headphones.

“Bretman just killed Sykkuno RIGHT in front of me. I literally watched him do it. He killed Sykkuno in COLD BLOOD.” he confidently claimed and Dream, quite uninterested, grabbed his bottle of water and lightly sipped on it, wiping beads of sweat resting right above his eyebrows with his forearm, blindly looking around the darkness, trying to get his eyes to adjust looking away from the computer screen. His eyes searched for the window - it was open, just enough to let a fresh breeze inside, but it never seemed to do that, letting humid air in with open arms like a welcome guest. Florida is fucking hell, he thinks, gulping down some more water.

“No, I didn’t! I seriously did not, he’s the one who killed him and is trying to frame me now. I swear to God, Toast…” Bretman shouted into his worn mic, trying to argue back.

“Yeah, to be honest, Bretman, you were silent the whole time when Ethan died.” Rae reasoned, earning quite a lot of “ooh”s and causing little “voted” signs to appear next to Poki, Toast and Karl’s names as Bretman tried his best to fight back.

“I didn’t know I was muted the whole time! You know I’m bad at this! Why would I... you know what, nevermind! Vote me! Vote me! You’ll see when Toast kills you all, I don’t care anymore. I literally saw-”

Dream slumps further into his chair, sure that the foam would have a dent of his body shape imprinted even when he’s long gone from it, and unlocks his phone with a quiet sigh. He opens Discord, and wishes he hadn’t, because Sapnap and George are always on the front lines and ready to make fun of him at any chance possible. He types back a stupid joke, calling them losers, but before he can press send, a Twitter notification pops up on his phone that almost makes his painfully sweaty hands lose grip of the phone.

“this is so boring” your message reads, from your official Twitter account. Dream blinks a few times, and looks up from his phone to observe his murky, empty room, eyes flashing from the window to the ripped chocolate bar wrapper that somehow made its way onto the floor to a cup of coffee from this afternoon. Did the humid air finally get to him? Hallucinations?

He clicks on the notification - it proves to not be a product of his imagination, after all. Three dots dance around on his screen cheerfully, but they suddenly stop. His ears tune in. Bretman is still defending his honor. Something else must’ve interrupted you. His shaky hands barely hit the right letters.

He takes a handful of screenshots amidst his euphoria, and forwards them to the group chat with no caption besides an emoji sticking its tongue out - he wants to tell them to suck his dick, or something along those lines, but your message remains a priority as he rushes back to the Twitter app to reply.

“Right” he manages to write without a typo. “They’re annoying”

Three dots immediately return to his screen like a happy memory, and he almost can’t believe you’re texting back so fast. George would probably humble him by saying it’s because you have nothing better to do, but what George doesn’t know can’t hurt him, Dream supposes, and clicks on your profile instinctively as he adjusts his headphones on one ear. By the time you finish typing your message, the group decided to vote out Bretman, who ended up not being an imposter.

The three dots disappear as quick as they came, and so does the anticipation that bubbled up in Dream’s throat as he sourly leaves to finish the rest of his tasks. The rest of the game stays as boring as it started, save for the giggles and hushed laughter that came from you at every few jokes he made - of which he made quite a lot, in a desperate attempt to make you laugh, at least a little bit. Of course, Quackity was there every step of the way to accidentally mention how Dream sounded a lot more hype and alive during this game than he does ever, but you win some, you lose some, eh?

In the next game you actually decided to set up proximity chat, so of course Dream followed you around everywhere, hot on your tail at all times - what else is he supposed to do, when the chance presented itself, really?

“Are you imposter?” His character obnoxiously ran circles around you as you did your wires task slowly and unsurely since this stream was your first time playing.

“No, but I wouldn’t tell you even if I was, dummy.” You replied, running around his own character briefly before running up to do the rest of your tasks, watching the green astronaut follow you close behind.

“Why not?” Dream questioned, eyes following all your movements since he didn’t have anything better to do considering he finished all his tasks.

“Do you not know how this game works?”

“Yeah, but you’d tell me, right? I wouldn’t… rat you out.” He heard a sigh coming through his headphones in response, and his grin widened just a little, watching your character walk away from him.

“I know you wouldn’t.” you replied. “I’ll tell you if I’m imposter, I guess.”

“You wouldn’t kill me, would you?” Dream spoke into his mic, reaching to fix it and realising the way his hand trembled a little, fully aware he was walking the line between flirty and obnoxious more than usual. He lowered his gaze just to see his keyboard reflect the light of the computer back to him - the sweat from his palms seemed to seep onto the keyboard. He refused to think about the mocking things his best friends would say if they found out how nervous he was just to talk to you.

“No, of course not! I wouldn’t be able to kill you.” You chirped just as a dead body was discovered and the two of you were torn from the conversation.

In the next one, his screen flashed an ominous black and red with the word “Impostor” and your purple character stood proudly next to his green one, and he snickered to himself, adjusting his headphones one more time (the more he did it, the more he was convinced it was one of those anxious habits of his).

Shifting in his chair, he started moving and couldn’t believe his eyes when he realised the two of you managed to lock yourselves in a room with Corpse and Sykkuno, accomplishing a double kill in barely the first two minutes of the game. The two of you vented while Dream muttered curses under his breath, breaking out in a sweat wondering if you’re going to get caught or not as you casually hummed to a random tune while faking tasks, hitting the notes in such an effortless way that it made Dream relax and get even more nervous at the same time. It didn’t take too long before the body was found, and you seemed to adapt to the game very quickly, as Dream just sat back most of the time and watched you stretch out a whole essay on why you and Dream could NOT have been imposters.

“Why would they stick together the whole time? Couldn’t they get at least someone else to vouch for them?” Toast complained.

“Girl, Dream wants some… alone time with Y/N, obviously.” Bretman said, despite being the one most sus of you in the first place, forcing laughter out of the whole lobby, Dream’s sticking out the most as his mood constantly swayed from finding the whole thing funny to being worried sick if you actually find him weird.

“Exactly! And we’re gonna have our alone time if we want to, thank you very much.”

Well, Dream thinks, taking a stressed gulp of water from his bottle, at least we cleared that one up.

“I don’t think that sounded the way you wanted it to, Y/N.” Karl pipes up, making Quackity burst into another fit of loud laughter, and you immediately protested.

“It sounded exactly the way I wanted it to! Now, vote Rae or else.”

When the meeting was over, he ran after you through cafeteria, grin splitting out on his face before he even spoke.

“You’re pretty…” his silence extended as he watched your character stare at his. “...pretty smart.”

You snorted. “Right. You’re pretty…” you extended your silence in return, mocking him. “...too.”

His heart jumps. “You forgot a word there.” he says as you stomp out to storage.

“I said what I said, Dreamy.”

He swears this can’t be healthy for his blood pressure. In the corner of his eye, Discord notifications pop up like crazy. The boys must be watching your stream. His heart swells with both pride and dread, knowing he’s about to be called something along the lines of pretty Dreamy for the next two months.

“How do you know I’m pretty? You’ve never even seen my face.” Dream replies as heat creeps up like a spirit rising from soil, from the back of his neck, seeping into his ears and cheeks somewhat equally. His eyes dart to the window again. Of course it’s the stupid Florida weather that has him burning up, flustered. Maybe he should open another window.

“Is this an invitation to see it?” you say, a teasing tone clinging off your voice and he can practically hear you smiling.

“No, I’m just saying! If you want to see it, though, that… that can be arranged.” he bites his lip as a physical attempt of holding back the smile that breaks out as he waits for your response, chest puffing in both nervousness and odd confidence.

“Can it? I mean, I don’t need to see it, I just know already, you have those… pretty boy vibes. But I wouldn’t…” you chuckle. “...be opposed to seeing it, for sure. Don’t count on me not to leak the pictures, though. I want the clout.”

“What do you MEAN you want the clout, you’re Y/N! You don’t need clout from a Minecraft YouTuber!” He argues back, a small wheeze escaping him mid sentence as you giggle and run around, with him following your every move.

“You keep my fucking lights on, man! Whenever your Spotify Twitter account thingy tweets that you’re listening to my stuff, the streams go up! I need your clout.” you say as you run into admin and snap Toast’s neck and run back out casually, as if nothing happened.

“Yeah, that’s how me listening to your songs on repeat works.” he says and you let out some sort of irritated groan.

“Shut up, smartass.” Just as you say that, somebody seems to find the body and you’re pulled into a meeting, where Rae susses both of you immediately.

“No, because both of you are always together! And someone always spots you walking by the place where the bodies are found! At some point that can’t be a coincidence, right?” she accuses, practically yelling into the mic.

“Of course they’re always together, check- check fuckin’ Twitter! They’re trending on like three different spots already!” Quackity jumps in, loud as always, and the lobby gives off mixed reactions.

“What? We are?” Dream asks, and Quackity confirms with a “yeah, man! Check!” and so he complies, quickly pulling out his phone to check the trending tabs. Sure enough, among the politics and sports, “DREAM Y/N”, “PRETTY BOY” and “DREAM FACE” are crammed, sat at 7th, 14th and 18th place, respectfully. A satisfied grin breaks out on his face. At least they see it, too.

“This has to be the first time Dream has trended for something heterosexual.” Karl points out, earning loud laughter from Quackity and Bretman, less loud on your part.

“Exactly! We’re a power couple! Stay mad!” You shouted, with Dream supporting you in the background, although still shyly adjusting his headphones every few seconds, unable to comprehend that oh, this is actually happening.

Both of you get voted out during the next few minutes, but that really means nothing to Dream - they actually do him quite a favor, because the two of you get to excuse yourselves and he sees those three familiar dots dance on his screen again as he leans back into his chair with a dopey grin, playing with the strings of his sweatpants, waiting for your next and next and next message.

He opens Discord on his computer to type one last message into the groupchat before turning it off for the night:

Dream (03:14): maybe Minecraft wasn’t my calling after all

Dream (03:14): can’t believe I just met my soulmate on Among Us

#dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream imagine #dreamwastaken imagine #dream fanfic #dreamwastaken fanfic #dream fluff #dream x you #dreamwastaken x you #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x y/n #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfic #mcyt x reader

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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 4 years

Text

Caught | JJ Maybank x reader

Requested by anon / Summary: You and JJ are caught making out by the rest of the pogues.

A/N: this was requested a while back and I wasn’t in the mood for writing outer banks characters at the time and was burnt out on writing for JJ. But I for some reason had a burst of inspiration and decided to write it tonight. I’m a little rusty writing for JJ, but.. Hope you guys enjoy! xx

!! STEAMYYYYY kinda but probably needs a warning? maybe 16 + please. No full on smut but it’s kinda mentioned.

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

** Rules for Requesting **

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

JJ held your hand tightly in his as he tore through the crowd and toward the back of the country club. It was the Midsummer’s party and you were there with your parents and Kie’s “date” of course. JJ was working as a waiter and had pulled away from his duties to find you.

“JJ, someone is going to see us.” You giggled as he tugged you across the lawn and to the back of the building.

He gently backed you against the building with a smirk, “Who the hell is going to find us out here?”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your mouth as JJ’s mouth attacked yours in a kiss. His hands were on your hips, on your waist, on your back, pulling you close to his body. Your fingers were twisted in his hair.

“This dress just looks too good on you.” JJ groans against your neck, fisting the fabric in his hands, “Make me think some very naughty thoughts.” He whispers huskily into your ear.

“Oh yeah?” You taunt with a smirk, tugging gently on his tie, “I want you to use this tie-”

“OH MY GOD!” A shriek from no other than Kie.

“What the fuck you guys!” John B’s voice.

“That’s.. gross. I’m gonna vomit.” Pope made a gagging noise.

JJ’s hands dropped the edge of your dress and it fell over your legs. He didn’t jump away from you to make sure no one saw you. “Fuck, guys.. seriously?!” JJ grumbled as he zipped his black pants. Luckily nothing had happened just yet, but it was seconds from happening.

You tried to straighten out your dress the best you could. You were mortified, “No one is gonna find us out here?” You direct that toward JJ, who sheepishly gives a shrug, “How the hell was I supposed to know the pogues would be nosey and decide to walk around back.”

“You two can’t be serious!” Kie groans, “No pogue on pogue smacking.”

“I mean.. there’s plenty of rooms inside.” John B’s face is twisted in slight disgust, “You perves couldn’t wait?”

Pope clears his throat, “Don’t worry, y/n. We didn’t see anything.”

You groaned and laid your forehead against JJ’s chest. Yup, you were mortified.

“Fuck off.” JJ points back toward the party.

“You guys were the ones trying to do it behind a building!” John B defends as the three of them walk back the way they came.

“I’m sorry.” JJ apologizes, helping fix your dress, “I really didn’t think anyone was going to come back here.”

“At least it was the pogues and not some kook.”

He chuckles and nods, “Maybe we should pick our places a little more carefully next time?”

“WE?! You picked this place!” You hit him in the shoulder and he chuckles with a nod, holding his hands up in surrender,“Okay, okay sorry. I need to pick better places.”

He wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you to his side, pressing a kiss to your temple as the two of you walk back toward the party. JJ and his damn male hormones. And damn him for being irresistible.

Obx taglist: @poguestyleskye , @alexa-playafricabytoto , @kaelyn-lobrutto24 , @prejudic3 , @turtlee-says-rawr , @outrbank , @k-k0129 , @annedub , @rockyyc77 , @ilovejjmaybank , @treestarrrrrrrr , @thedarkqueenofavalon , @write-from-the-heart , @lasnaro , @ircnwitch, @normatural , @kaylinfayezink , @lordsagittarius , @moose-squirrel-asstiel , @thelovelydreamer17 , @chasefreakinstokes , @fanficscuziranout , @diverrdown , @tregua-oca , @junkiemuppettxx , @afterglowsb-tch13 , @hardyxlove , @cinnamon-roll-seth , @copper-boom , @dpaccione , @themaddies-obx ,

*if your name is crossed out, then tumblr is being stupid and won’t let me tag you.

JJ Maybank // Rudy Pankow taglist: @thatweirdblondesword , @saltwatercowb0y , @popcrone818 , @thee-sex , @coni-martina , @pm-my-hubbies , @timotaychalabae , @katiaw2 , @maybebanks , @sataninsatin , @obx-beach , @fangirlvoice , @lolitstiana , @teamnick , @danicarosaline , @losers-club6 , @bananasfromtarget , @rudypankowswife , @fratboystark , @notmcchkn , @obx-beach , @ifilwtmfc , @mk15x , @ameeravandijk , @bibliophilewednesday , @irdkwhatimdoinghere , @maybankbby , @halobaby , @lilsiswinchester , @iccyyyybitch , @http-cherries , @tovvaa

All my works tag list: @blossomreed , @mggstyles , @simonsbluee , @thewolf-and-thesheep , @obxrafe ( @obxrafejjwhore ), @abbiesthings , @itstaskeen , @reniescarlett

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krabmeat · 3 years

Note

☊⏃⋏ ⟟ ⏚⟒ ⟒⋏⎅⟒⍀⋔⏃⋏ ⏃⋏⍜⋏? ⏃⋏⊬⍙⏃⊬⌇ ⋏⍜⍙ ⏁⊑⏃⏁'⌇ ⏃⌰⌰ ⍜⎍⏁ ⍜⎎ ⏁⊑⟒ ⍙⏃⊬. ☌⍜⎅ ⍀⟒⏃⎅⟒⍀ ☌⟒⏁⏁⟟⋏☌ ⍀⟒⎐⟟⎐⟒⎅ ⎍⋏⟒⌖⌿⟒☊⏁⟒⎅⌰⊬ ⏚⊬ ⎅⍀⟒⏃⋔? ⟟⏁'⌇ ⌰⟟☍⟒ - ⏃ ⍀⟒⏃⌰⌰⊬ ⏚⏃⎅⏃⌇⌇ ⏃⋏⏁⏃☌⍜⋏⟟⌇⏁ ☌⍜⎅ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ☌⟒⏁⌇ ⌿⎍⌰⌰⟒⎅ ⍜⎍⏁ ⍜⎎ ⏁⊑⟒ ⎍⋏⎅⟒⍀⍙⍜⍀⌰⎅, ☊⏃⌰⌰⟟⋏☌ ⎅⍀⟒⏃⋔ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ "⌇⏃⎐⟟⍜⎍⍀" (⏚⎍⏁ ⟟⋏ ⏃ ⋔⍜⍀⟒ ⌇⏃⏁⟟⍀⟟☊⏃⌰ ⍙⏃⊬ ⟟⋏⌇⏁⟒⏃⎅ ⍜⎎ ☌⟒⋏⎍⟟⋏⟒⌰⊬ ⌇⟒⟒⟟⋏☌ ⏁⊑⟒ ⋔⏃⌇☍⟒⎅ ⋔⏃⋏ ⏃⌇ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ⊑⟒⍀⍜ ☊⏃⎍⌇⟒ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌿⏃⌇⏁ ⏁⊑⟒⊬'⎐⟒ ⋔⍜⌇⏁ ⌰⟟☍⟒⌰⊬ ☊⏃⌰⌰⟒⎅ ⟒⎐⟒⍀⊬⍜⋏⟒ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ⊑⟒⌰⌿⟒⎅ ⏁⊑⟒⋔ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ⋔⟟☌⊑⏁⊬ ⊑⟒⌰⌿⟒⍀ ⏁⍜ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌿⍜⟟⋏⏁ ⍙⊑⟒⍀⟒ ⏁⊑⟒ ⏁⟟⏁⌰⟒ ⎎⟒⟒⌰⌇ ⍜⎐⟒⍀⎍⌇⟒⎅ ⏃⋏⎅ ⎍⋏⎅⟒⌇⟟⍀⏃⏚⌰⟒). ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⍀⍜⏃⋔⟒⎅ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌰⏃⋏⎅⌇ ⍜⎎ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌇⋔⌿, ⏚⍀⟟⋏☌⟟⋏☌ ⏁⟒⍀⍀⍜⍀ ⏃⋏⎅ ⊑⟒⌰⌰⎎⟟⍀⟒ ⏃☊⍀⍜⌇⌇ ⏁⊑⟒ ⍜⎐⟒⍀⍙⍜⍀⌰⎅, ⌰⟒⏁⏁⟟⋏☌ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ☍⟒⌿⏁ ⟟⋏ ⍀⏃☌⟒ ⌇⏁⍀⍜⌰⌰ ⎎⍀⟒⟒. ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⟒⋏⎅ ⎍⌿ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⏁⎍⋏⎅⍀⏃, ⏁⊑⟒ ⏚⎍⍀⋏⟟⋏☌ ⎎⌰⏃☍⟒⌇ ⍜⎎ ⏃⌇⊑⟒⌇ ☌⟒⏁⏁⟟⋏☌ ⌰⍜⌇⏁ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⊑⏃⍀⌇⊑ ⌿⟟⌰⟒⌇ ⍜⎎ ⌇⋏⍜⍙. ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⊑⏃⌿⌿⟒⋏⟒⎅ ⏁⍜ ⊑⏃⎐⟒ ⌇⏁⎍⋔⏚⌰⟒⎅ ⎍⌿⍜⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ☊⍜⏁⏁⏃☌⟒⌇ ⍜⎎ ⏁⍙⍜ ⟟⋔⋔⍜⍀⏁⏃⌰ ☌⍜⎅⌇ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⋔⏃⊬ ⍜⍀ ⋔⏃⊬ ⋏⍜⏁ ⊑⏃⎐⟒ ⎍⌇⟒⎅ ⏁⍜ ☍⋏⍜⍙. ⍙⍜⋏⎅⟒⍀ ⍙⊑⏃⏁'⌰⌰ ⊑⏃⌿⌿⟒⋏? ⟟ ⍙⍜⎍⌰⎅ ⌰⟟☍⟒ ⏁⍜ ⌇⟒⟒ ⊬⍜⎍⍀ ⏁⏃☍⟒ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟟⌇.

- ⟒⋏⎅⟒⍀⋔⏃⋏ ⏃⋏⍜⋏

𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚝

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜: philza, techno, Wilbur,(next few only mentioned)Mexican dream, schlatt, dream

𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜: they/them

𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: fire, death, arson, betrayal mention, being used, reference to drugs, slight cursing

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜: translation vvvvv

Can i be enderman anon? anyways now that's all out of the way. God reader getting revived unexpectedly by dream? it's like - a really badass antagonist god that gets pulled out of the underworld, calling dream their "saviour" (but in a more satirical way instead of genuinely seeing the masked man as their hero cause in the past they've most likely called everyone that helped them their mighty helper to the point where the title feels overused and undesirable). They roamed the lands of the smp, bringing terror and hellfire across the overworld, letting their kept in rage stroll free. They end up in the tundra, the burning flakes of ashes getting lost in the harsh piles of snow. They happened to have stumbled upon the cottages of two immortal gods that they may or may not have used to know. Wonder what'll happen? i would like to see your take in this.

- enderman anon

AHHH IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I DONT KNOW IF YOULL EVEN READ THIS STILL BUT TY FOR THE REQUEST IT ISNT THE BEST QUALITY IM SORRY :[[[

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You almost don't recognize the sensation of grass against your calloused and rough hands. You were in the void playing solitaire with Schlatt and Mexican Dream, and the next thing you knew you were suddenly pulled harshly by the back of your collar, falling on your spine. The looming mask of Dream is what stood above you, but he looked different. Longer hair, smelly, wearing a stained lime green jumpsuit with ‘0001' sewn into it and covered in cuts, scars and bruises. But before you could even question why Dream was suddenly there, he stepped back into the void, the void slowly surrounding and consuming him the further he went backwards. His now bony hand is still tightly gripped onto the back of your shirt, so while struggling your body is also enveloped in darkness. All it took was one blink and there you were on a patch of grass, staring at the pale blue sky.

"Huh."

Was all that came out of your mouth. You were still shocked at the turn of events that just happened, but no longer grounded. A running river nearby stunned your senses. How long had you been dead? It felt like years, but when you look around at the familiar forest you died in, not much had changed except for a couple newly planted saplings here and there. The swirling ashes you remembered before you died had all settled and compressed into the soil.

The river showed a strange reflection of yourself- your features have clearly sunken into your skull and there's a streak of white hair coming from your scalp along with words in fancy gold letters on your arm reading,

"May thy woes and hurt of the past no longer eradicate the upwards of this lost souls future. Allow thine to be praised by Ender themselves and be granted another chance at mortality."

Scrubbing or picking at your arm did nothing, so onwards you went walking along the forest to what you remember being a bustling "community".

Each mound of dirt you saw only brought memories of your death, of the place and people who sought to treat you like you were disposable. And now that you’re alive, you hate that they technically ended up being right. Your death; alone in a forest. Running away from the unexpected attacker, ashamed and too prideful to die in the prying eyes of your enemies. It fills you with rage, all the lives taken by your hands and for what? You weren’t overreacting, you knew that for sure. And before you knew it, you stole some fresh flint and steel from a random chest and got to work.

You had always wanted to touch the fires you set. The soothing feeling you got from watching wood burn to char and ashes satisfied you. And it made it all the more euphoric to know it was trees of your manipulator's land. Running across the land, with flames as far as you could see when you looked behind you. The heat swirled around your neck and went into your nose, but the feeling was muscle memory at that point. You were still riding your high when a voice reached out to you, luckily when you were finally calm.

"What- Y/n? Hold on, is that really you Y/n..?"

You spin on your heels to the familiar manipulative British voice of a person you haven't seen in a long time.

"Wilbur?! Man, I haven't seen another person's face other than those two addicts in a while- you look different."

His eyes much like yours are sunken deep into his skull, purple-pink bags under his eyes and dull skin. Wilburs shocked lips fade into an opened mouth smile when he walks up to you with his hands momentarily confused on what they should do. Eventually, his right hand settles on clasping your left shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze.

“Y/n it is so good to see you! You look quite different yourself, wouldn’t you think-? Oh, look! We’re matching!”

The grey streak in your hair seems to make another appearance when Wilbur briefly smacks it with his middle and pointer finger.

“Ay, it’s nice to see you too Wil, but back up for a second alright? I've got something to ask you by the way…”

Wilburs head peaks in interest, urging you to go on.

“I’m guessing that little streak in your hair wasn’t a fashion choice- and if it was it’s a bit strange- but how’d you get it? You died when you blew up L’manburg! I mean c'mon, people don’t just, well…REVIVE!”

He starts to walk. You aren’t quite sure where, but stumbling along with Wilbur while his arm is draped lazily atop your shoulders seems to suffice.

“Ahh Y/n, you’d be surprised. The most WONDERFUL thing happened, actually! Years and years in my hell of a train station; do you know who was at the subway door when it finally opened, Y/n? Dream!”

“Wh- Dream?!”

Appalled, you try to stop in your tracks but fail when wilburs arm is still pushing forward. His storytelling voice dies down to curiosity and excitement.

“Wait, did he save you too? He did, didn’t he? Oh, this is wonderful!”

Wilbur emits eagerism and you suddenly realize what you could do with his desperacy to be socially accepted. Putting on the most exaggerated and animated voice, you speak.

“Oh my god yeah! Gosh, that Dream guy is my hero! Thanks to him, I get to have another chance at living again, and isn’t that just…swell.”

In all honesty you didn’t really try hard to sound sincere but by the look of Wilbur, it seemed to work just fine.

“Right?! I’ve been meaning to visit him in the prison if you’d like to tag along with me the day I go? I’m sure he’d love to see you, since he revived you and all.”

Oh, you were sure Dream wanted to see you. He wants a boon- a trade. Why else would he revive two of the most historically significant people on the server if not to make some sort of deal with them? Sure, Wilbur is as gullible and carefree as ever but you at least still had scraps of mental stability and level-headedness that made you all the more a force to be reckoned with. Not to mention Wilbur doesn’t know that Dream killed you, but telling him that now would blow your act. You decide to keep your thoughts to yourself.

“Yeahh, sure! I’d love to go, just tell me when.”

And that’s the end of that conversation. The two of you walk to wherever Wilbur is going. It honestly surprised you how he couldn’t see through your apathy. From what you remembered, he was keen on being wise about people and their intentions but you guess years and years in hell do things to a person.

Somehow, you’re stuck in your mind for long enough that only now do you feel the sharp winter air making the hairs on your arms and legs stand straight up.

“Wait, snow?”

The tundra was a drastic contrast to the void you were once in with schlatt and Mexican Dream. Instead of black as far as you could see, it was a blinding powdery white.

‘Mexican Dream would’ve liked it here, probably would have tried to snort the snow like coke.’

You weren’t built for the snow, though. Hell- you didn’t even have a memory of anyone living in a tundra when you were alive! Why was Wilbur even in the tundra? You didn’t have the energy to ask, still feeling brittle and tired, back aching from laying on the dry dirt longer than expected earlier.

“Yeah, just figured I’d show you around! Plus I already need to grab a couple things from an ender chest and this was the closest by. I’m a very busy man, after all.”

But why were there so many footprints in the snow? As far as you knew, Wilbur was the only one who lived out in the tundra- and he didn’t seem like the active type at all. There were strange shapes as well, large hooved footprints. However, all thinking comes to a halt at the same time Wilbur does.

“We’re here! You might see some familiar faces cause I live with people.”

Well, that answers the footsteps as well as the tall red-caped piglin hybrid giving leftover bones and raw meat to a polar bear.

“TECHNO! TECHNO, HEY!”

He tenses up for a second, you could tell he wanted to be left alone but that didn’t really bother Wilbur. But you recognize him. The name and the apparel- that guy is Technoblade. The same Technoblade who stood by your side while the two of you blew L’manburg up for the last time, and now the Technoblade who resides in a cottage shrouded in snow.

“Technoblade?!”

Hearing your voice being carried by the crisp winter air, he turns around immediately to see you and Wilbur a few feet away. Techno stood there dumbfounded, but he didn’t know why. He wasn’t particularly joyed or ecstatic to see you, but he was at the very least happy to see an old ally back.

“Y/n? Oh my god, now we’ve got TWO of you? We don’t have room for another one, alright?”

For some it might be hard to see the meaning behind his words. Luckily you’ve talked to him enough to where you can tell he’s being playful.

“Don’t worry, I’ll just build directly on top of your house. Besides, who WOULDN'T want to be near me 24-7?”

“Me-“

“Oh f*ck off.”

You would’ve thought that that was Wilbur due to the similar accent, but there was something off. The slight gruffness and age, yet still succeeding in sounding mellow.

“Phil! How’s my favorite old bird doing?”

He gives you a face. Not a happy one like you expected, rather a face that says ‘really?’ Probably because of the old comment. The two of you briefly hug, Phil’s tattered wings stretching out slightly.

“I’m doing alright, are you okay? Here, would you like to come in? It’s pretty cold outside, you probably haven’t seen snow in a couple years.”

He wasn’t wrong after all. You were freezing your toes off and were itching for lemon tea. The kind Phil used to make when he, Technoblade and Dream discussed plans on destroying L’manburg. Ah, the good ol days…

“Of course! We’ve got a lot to talk about- you still have that old chess board?”

“Yes, but first you have some explaining to do about the fire over in that tree, Y/n. You just got back and you’re already burning down forests?!”

“Did someone say fire?”

Techno has an eager stride in his step once he also looks back to see the raging lights of orange and red in the nearby forest.

“Don’t worry Phil! It’s just- ahh, a controlled burn..?”

Your tone of voice is unsure when a black crow shoots down from the sky into the snow in front of you. It’s left wing is charred and has smoke dancing from the burn. Philza looks at you with a stern glare.

“Oh my f*cking god…that’s it! We’re all going inside now, you too Techno. I don’t want you and Y/n going on a rampage.”

#krabs kreates #mcyt x platonic reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x you #mcyt x reader #dsmp x platonic reader #dsmp x y/n #dsmp x you #dsmp x reader #philza x reader #philza x y/n #philza x you #techno x reader #techno x y/n #techno x you

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rebeccccccaaa · 4 years

Text

𝙳𝚘𝚐 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜

_______________________________

𝙱𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍: (ANON) Hey! :)) You're very talented! So I'd dare to also send you a request with Bucky (I'm sorry) <3 Maybe one where you're dating but you're not an avenger, so you sometimes feel not good at all for him even though he always makes you feel special and he loves you more than anything. one time he comes from a mission to you waiting in his room, doubting again but he immediately tries getting this thought out of you and gives you his dog tags to prove he's yours forever and it's all cute then? :)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: Smut 18+ (minors dni), Angst, Fluff, Insecure!Reader because some bitch was mean, Dog tags 😍

𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛’𝚜 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 what the fuck that’s so fucking cute i can’t, thanks for the request bug!

________________________________

You sat on Bucky’s bed with your leg bouncing anxiously up and down. You just needed to see him and Steve texted you saying he was on his way back from his mission. Earlier today you were at the store when a gorgeous woman came up to you.

“Hi, excuse me, sorry,” she laughed.

“Do you by any chance know a guy named Bucky Barnes?”she smirked.

“Oh yeah, he’s uh...he’s my boyfriend,” you said somewhat shyly, you have no idea this woman was.

“Haha, I knew it. I remember seeing you two at one of Tony’s charity parties last week. Buck had his arm around your… waist,” she squinted her eyes rudely keeping a fake smile.

“Oh uh, yeah. We were there.”

“You know, Buck’s a real gentleman, and pleaser too,” she winked.

“Ok?” you said awkwardly; why is she still here?

“Buck and I didn’t date for long but boy those nights were for remembering,” she sighed; you couldn’t help but be quite jealous.

You and Bucky have been together for about seventh months, and they’ve been the best seven months. However you’d be lying if you hadn’t questioned your relationship once or twice, not Bucky but yourself. You weren’t the most beautiful blonde bombshell on the planet so of course you’d have your doubts that Bucky would find someone more beautiful.

“I’m just kidding with ya, babe,” she grabbed your arm.

“I should probably get going. My Bucky’s probably waiting for me,” you tried to push.

“He was mine first, aha,” she practically mocked.

“Well, he’s mine now; I’ll see ya,” you simply walked away, but not without catching the eye roll from the woman.

Now here you are waiting for Bucky to come home. How did Bucky go from dating her to you? What a major downgrade for him.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky opened the door to his room.

“Buck,” you hugged him tightly.

“What’s wrong? Are you ok?” he asked worriedly.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be; I just miss you,” you said.

“Then why were you crying,” he held you hand to lead you to sit on the bed.

“I wasn’t-” Bucky wiped a stray tear that slowly fell down your cheek.

“What’s going on, baby?”

“I met someone,” you started. You completely worded horribly and the face Bucky made, pure terror and fear; all the lively color once there vanished.

“No! Oh my goodness. I worded that so badly! I meant to say that I ran into someone, but I don’t know who they were. This was the first time I’ve met them,” you cupped his face. He breathed out heavily, grateful that it was a misunderstanding.

“Who was it?” he chuckled holding your waist lovingly.

“I didn’t catch her name, but she was- she was blonde, she uh… she had big boobs,” you whispered the last part, making him laugh.

“Her eyes were green, she was pretty short and thin. She said she knew you, that you guys dated.”

“What? I never dated anyone since I left Hydra; I thought I told you that,” he explained.

“Really?”

“The last dame I dated was a woman named Dotty, she was kinda crazy,” he grinned.

“But I think I know who you’re talking about. There was a woman named Ashley and she’s pretty rich I guess, she came to Tony’s parties all the time. She’s a huge flirt and needless to say she more than once tried to get my pants. But ever since I met you I don’t think I’ve run into her. Maybe she got the point that I wasn’t interested,” he said.

“Well, I don’t think so. She tried to make it very clear that she ‘had you first’ and you gave her ‘nights to remember’,” you faux moaned to get your point across.

“Oh god, well that’s obviously not true. You are the only woman I’ve ever made love to,” he kissed you.

“It seemed so believable,” you mumbled.

“What?”

“Bucky, you could have anyone. And you chose me?”

“Yeah, I did. And it was the best fucking decision I’ve ever made.”

Hearing Bucky’s words made your stomach flip and your heart flutter. He got up and walked to the drawer beside his bed and pulled out his dog tags. He came back and kissed you softly before putting the tags over your head.

“I don’t want you thinking about that woman anymore, or any lies she told you alright?” you nodded.

“I missed my girl and I just wanna show her much,” he kissed and pushed you down onto the bed.

His hands moved under your shirt and Bucky’s lips kissed down the column of your neck. Your hands held his shoulders moving to cup his face. Bucky sat up on his knees and pulled his shirt off quickly as did you. You were going to take the dog tags off but Bucky grabbed your wrists before you could.

He kissed the inside of your wrists and your palms. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your collarbones and neck. He unclasped your bra and tossed it aside letting you lay down again. He kissed your chest once again and trailed his lips down your front.

He slowly pulled your bottoms down and rid his own too and pumped his prominently hard cock. Your breathing quickened and the sight of Bucky as beautiful as he is made you wetter with each passing second. He towered over you once again with a gorgeous smile on his face.

You kissed him and felt the tip of Bucky’s cock teasing you, resting against your entrance without entering completely. Finally, Bucky’s hips pressed against yours and you gasped at the feeling of him filling you up.

Bucky whispered sweet nothings in your ear and he thrusted in and out of you. His fingers intertwined with yours pulling them above your head. He kissed you messily and you moaned into his mouth. Your legs wrapped around his hips pulling him closer.

“Fuck, Bucky. I’m gonna cum,” you whined.

“Go ahead, beautiful. Let go,” he rested his forehead against yours and you whined and moaned loudly, your orgasm ripping through you. He snapped his hips faster and you felt his cum coating your walls. His arms gave out and he buried his face into the crook of your neck; pressing light kisses to your slightly sweaty skin.

“Fucking hell,” you panted.

“I love you,” Bucky whispered.

“I love you too.”

Bucky rolled off you and stared at the tags still wrapped around your neck. His fingers played with the metal; the soft clanks being heard in the room along with both of your heavy breathing. His legs tangled themselves with yours and you just laid there watching play with the tags.

“I never want to see you take these off, ok?” Bucky whispered.

“I promise,” you smiled.

“I love you so much, doll. You mean the world to me,” Bucky cuddled you close.

“You mean the world to me too.”

You fell asleep in each other's arms, the last you felt were Bucky’s lips to your forehead and the coldness from his dog tags he gave you that told you in more than one way how much he loved you.

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ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison

@buckybarnes101

@l-sofiamia-l

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes smut #james buchanan barnes #marvel fics #marvel smut #bucky barnes x reader

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whumperooni · 4 years

Text

Just the two of us

Natsuo Todoroki x Reader

Tags/Warnings: unprotected sex, dubcon, ditzy!virgin!Reader, creampies, manipulation, pseudo incest, big brother/little sister kink, natsuo being a perv

Word count: 7.7k

This was written in response to an anon! It...well, it spiraled out of control so I’m putting this in an actual post. Thank you so much nonny for sending me such a good thirst/prompt!

Reader-chan is aged up!!!!!

It’s not often that Natsuo gets the house to himself. He has a big family- there’s usually someone around to keep him company. Today, though, it’s empty and he’s the only Todoroki on the estate. Fuyumi’s grading papers at a friend’s house. Shoto is training with Deku. Enji is off doing god knows what- Natsuo doesn’t particularly care where his father is. So it’s just him for now. And it’s nice. He’s taken advantage of the solitude and claimed the living room as his own. He’s spread his textbooks and notes all over the floor and brought in a bunch of snacks from the kitchen- some beer and chips and some celery that Fuyumi must have cut up at some point. The tv’s on, but the volume is low so he can concentrate on his work and he’s brought his pillows from his room to make it extra comfy. It’s nice. It’s relaxed. It’s some peace and quiet that Natsuo didn’t realize he needed until he actually received it. Small blessings, he thinks as he munches on some chips and scrawls notes out on a rough draft of an essay. His solitude is only interrupted when the doorbell chimes. Natsuo’s brow raises at the noise and he tilts his head back to look toward the hallway, lets out a soft huff. He doesn’t know who could be visiting- everyone else is still out and about- and he doesn’t remember any of his friends asking to stop by. Maybe it’s a delivery? It’s not that late yet. A hum leaves Natsuo and he stands from he’s been kicked back, wipes his hands on the sides of his sweatpants. He pulls on a discarded hoodie as he goes to answer the door and tugs it on with a yawn right as the bell goes off again. The impatience is a little annoying, but Natsuo manages to keep a frown from his face when he opens the door. Not that it would stay for very long anyway- when he slides the door open he’s greeted by someone that always manages to wipe away his frustration. You smile at him- a finger twirling a lock of your hair- and Natsuo’s heart stops for a moment at the sweet way you chirp out, “Natsuo-nii!” in greeting. Crap, it’s you- sweet, cute, bumbling and adorable you. Shoto’s friend and Natsuo’s shameful lust- a walking, talking fantasy that already has Natsuo swallowing and his self-control slipping. He’s had a thing for you ever since Shoto brought you home for a group study session with some of his other classmates. He’s had a thing for you ever since you started coming over without the other third year UA students accompanying you. He’s had a thing for you ever since you first called him Natsuo-nii in that saccharine voice of yours. You’re his type through and through- cute and clueless and oh so innocent. It’s mean of him to think, but he’s not sure how an airhead like you got into UA- he’s not really even sure how you were the one that managed to claim Shoto’s friendship. It doesn’t matter, really, because you’re here smiling all honey-sweet at him and he’s all too aware that Shoto isn’t- that, for now, the two of you are all alone just like he’s guiltily imagined so many times over these past few months. Natsuo wets his lips and takes a deep breath, offers a smile right back at you. “What’s up?” he asks, leaning against the doorframe. “Are you looking for Shoto? He’s not here.” You blink and he watches as confusion spreads across your pretty face, as your brows furrow and your lips set into a tiny pout. “He’s not? But he told me that he would be home after training…” Your voice comes out bewildered and cute and Natsuo watches you through his lashes as you dig your phone out of your purse and start to scroll through it. “He’s still training,” Natsuo tells you, eyeing the way your head tilts as you frown at your phone. Temptation pricks at him and Natsuo has to guiltily shove it back before he can give into any bad ideas. “At least, I think he is. I don’t know when he was planning to finish.” “Eh??? But we were gonna watch a movie together,” you pout- voice tilting with a whine that should be more annoying than endearing. Natsuo kind of likes it, the way your voice pitches with your dissatisfaction, and he can’t help wondering how your whines would sound under different circumstances. Like a dream, probably. Natsuo offers you another smile- this one a little apologetic- and he rubs the back of his neck, watches as your hips shift to the side and cause your short skirt to flutter across your thighs. God, he wants to run his hand up them. “Sorry,” Natsuo apologizes to you. “You know how he gets when he’s training- he’s probably gotten caught up in it.” Your lips quirk in disappointment and he watches you sigh- arms folding across your chest and your demeanor wilting as fast as a daisy in a desert. He thinks to say something to you- what he doesn’t know- but then you perk up in an instant and flash him one of your so easily summoned smiles. “It’s not your fault,” you tell him sweetly. “I can wait for him to get back! Oh, if that’s okay, of course. Can I wait for him here, Natsuo-nii? Is that alright?” The temptation he had pushed away comes back with a vengeance and Natsuo has to swallow when several bad ideas flash through his mind. Of course you would ask if you could stay in that adorable voice of yours. Of course you would call him Natsuo-nii and flutter your lashes without thought. Clueless girl- don’t you know how weak he is? Don’t you know the danger of being alone with a grown man with impure impulses? Fuck, he needs to keep it together. He needs to behave. “Natsuo-nii?” Natsuo blinks and he clears his throat, smiles down at you while you look up at him with curious eyes. “Sorry,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish laugh. “Yeah, of course you can wait here.” What else is he supposed to say, he reasons. It’s not like he can be rude and deny you, turn you away. Natsuo is a nice guy and he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, rebuff someone important to his little brother- that would be a terrible thing to do. He can’t just be impolite. ...right? You light up in an instant at his agreement- beaming up at him and letting out a pleased little noise before beginning to kick off your shoes. Natsuo watches you, knowing deep down that he’s being a fool, and tells himself that he needs to keep it together. He doesn’t think Shoto would appreciate him trying to get handsy with you. (God, he wants to, though) When your shoes are off, Natsuo steps into the hallway and beckons you inside before closing the door and isolating the two of you from the rest of the world. “I was just studying in the living room,” he tells you. “No one else is home so feel free to do what you want.” Your head tilts with surprise- you’ve never been here with only one Todoroki in the house- and Natsuo watches as you hum and rock on your heels. “Can I hang out with you?” you ask, smiling up at him. “It would be weird wanderin’ around by myself.” That’s true. No one would feel comfortable like that, probably. So there’s nothing wrong with Natsuo agreeing to it- nothing sleazy about that at all, definitely not. It’s not wrong when you were the one to suggest it. ...right? Natsuo blinks and he sweeps his gaze over you, takes in your short skirt and candy-sweet smile. He nods and ignores the faint guilt that flits through him as he smiles back at you. “Yeah, of course. C’mon.” Another pleased noise from you and Natsuo has to turn away before his shame and satisfaction can take over his face. His heart pounds a little as he heads back to the living room- your light footsteps following close behind- and Natsuo immediately grabs his beer and downs the rest of it as soon as he plops back down onto the tatami mat. You take the couch and that’s a relief- a disappointment too. ...it’s probably for the best. Natsuo watches as you get comfortable on the couch- a pillow tucked and hugged underneath your chin and your knee high clad legs lazily kicking and stirring in the air as you pull out your phone. Your shirt has rucked up a little from where you’ve scootched to get more comfortable and there’s just a sliver of lace peeking over the waistband of your too short skirt. Natsuo looks away and pulls a pillow over his lap to hide the way he’s beginning to tent his sweatpants. Pervert, he scolds himself. You’re an absolute pervert. (Even with the self-admonishing, though, he’s still so keenly aware of how it’s just you and him in the house, how adoringly you look up to him, and how easy it would be to get you riding his fingers, squirming and mewling underneath him.) Natsuo swallows hard and he reaches for his drink, takes a deep, annoyed breath when he remembers that, oh yeah, he had just smashed the rest of it. He needs another one. “Hey, do you want anything to drink?” he asks. “I gotta grab something from the kitchen.” You blink at him, head tilting, and then you smile sweetly, nod as your dimples flash his way. “Yes, please,” you tell him so very politely. “Just some water.” Natsuo nods and he gathers up his trash, stands up and heads toward the kitchen. He can’t help throwing a look your way as he passes by the couch and it almost KO’s him when he gets a look at cotton white panties peeking between parted thighs. Natsuo swallows hard and he walks to the kitchen stiffly. Think about something else, he tells himself firmly. Think about Fuyumi in her robe and face masks. Think about Shoto coming home covered in slime after a villain attack. Think about dad. Natsuo’s cock wilts as he imagines his family and he leans against the counter, breathes out a huge sigh of relief. Something’s going to end up happening if someone doesn’t come home soon. (He wants something to happen so bad. You probably wouldn’t mind- you’re such a sweet little ditz and he knows he could make you bliss out with pleasure. You’d like it- little darlings like you always end up loving being on your knees, getting your warm holes bred and your mouth filled with big fingers, hard cocks.) Natsuo sighs and he adjusts himself before grabbing another beer, a bottle of water for you. When he steps back in the living room, Natsuo finds you kneeling on the floor and peeking at his notes- face confused but curious as you skim over them. It’s a little cute and it’s an opportunity to get close- something more innocent than his other urges that he can’t help giving into. Natsuo sits down right beside you- thigh brushing against yours- and smiles at you when you look his way, offers you the water you had requested. “Here,” he tells you. He gets a hummed “thank you” in response and he watches through his lashes as you take a sip of water, traces the movement of your throat with his gaze as you swallow it down. He wants to follow that movement with his mouth, trail his tongue up that soft flesh and make you whimper and cling to him. He wants to do so much. “Natsuo-nii, you’re so smart, you know- I can’t understand half of what your notes say!” Of course charming, simple you can’t understand his notes. It’s adorable that you try, though. Natsuo smiles at the compliment, ego shamefully stroked, and he rubs the back of his neck whenever you smile back. “Thanks,” he says with a little laugh. “But it’s hard for me too- all that jargon makes my brain turn to mush after a while.” You nod sympathetically and Natsuo has to bite his tongue so he doesn’t breathe in sharp whenever your hand reaches out and pats his knee. “You should take a break when that happens,” you advise, voice and face solemn. It’s funny to see you serious, like you’re telling him something that he doesn’t already know- like a little kid instructing their older brother on basic things everyone else already has a grasp on. “Mmm, yeah,” Natsuo agrees, still smiling. Your hand hasn’t moved from his knee; he wants to drag it up higher. “I probably should.” You nod again, face still solemn, and Natsuo wets his lips as an idea pushes past the weak hold he has on his self-control. ...there’s nothing wrong with watching a movie together, he reasons. It’s just a movie- that’s it. It’s completely innocent. You’ve watched movies with her before- this isn’t any different. (Except that the two of you are all alone and movies with two people wrapped up in solitude tend to lead to more salacious activities.) Natsuo licks his lips and he offers you an easy grin, sinks further into temptation. “I could use a break actually,” he tells you. “You wanna watch something with me?” Your eyes light up and crinkle as you smile- enthusiasm radiating from you like an easily pleased child. He almost kisses you then, but he holds back and reaches for the remote instead. “Here,” he offers, “pick something out.” A happy little noise leaves you and that has Natsuo fond, smiling. He moves to get more comfortable and leans his back against the couch, watches as you flip through the channels with a concentrated look on your cute, cute face. An idea strikes him when he sees you squirming to get more comfortable- a bad idea that he absolutely should not give into. An idea that he absolutely gives into. It wouldn’t be that bad, he tells himself. She’s so physical anyways- it’s not like she hasn’t done that before and it’s not like you’re going to actually do anything. Natsuo watches you and then he reaches out, pulls you back without warning to rest between his legs- your back to his chest and his thighs bracketing your body. You tilt your head back to look at him- wide eyed and surprised- and Natsuo just shrugs, grabs a blanket to drape over his shoulders. “This is more comfortable,” he explains as if that can dismiss any of the improper closeness. “And I’m cold.” A lie, but you take it with a smile and a giggle. There’s a noise of something like contentment that leaves you and Natsuo breathes in deep when you wiggle closer against him, when you let out a happy sigh. “Sho-chan never wants to cuddle,” you complain as you snuggle in close. “This is nice.” Hell yeah it is. Natsuo hums and he hesitates for only a moment before chancing wrapping his arms around your waist. The smile you flash up at him gets Natsuo dangerously close to grabbing your chin and kissing you breathless, but he’s able to clumsily grasp his slipping self-control and only gives you a smile in return. Soon enough, you find an old movie to watch and your focus goes to that. Vampires and magic capture your attention fully, but Natsuo ignores it to focus on you instead- soft, pretty, cute you snuggled up against him and radiating nothing but warmth and trust. With you so close he can smell your perfume- a scent of vanilla and peaches that makes his mouth water, a scent that further cements your innocence in his eyes and just makes him want to bury his face in the crook of your neck, breathe you in and kiss along your throat until all you can do is moan. Natsuo holds you a little tighter without even realizing and he buries his face in your hair, closes his eyes. He only becomes aware of the action when you let out a curious noise and he has to hold back a groan, mentally scold himself for giving into all his desires without even pretending to put on a fight for the illusion of morality. What’s the point of trying to pretend he’s better than this, though? He’s already gotten off to you before. He’s jerked himself to the thought of you on your knees and your pretty face so innocent as you ask “Natsuo-nii, what’s a blowjob?” He’s cum to the image of you sat in his lap- pleading so sweetly for him to teach you things you’ve been so curious about. He’s fucked his fist to the thought of stuffing your cunny with his cock and making you squeal his name- short skirt flipped up and your soft tits bouncing with each snap of his hips. He’s already thoroughly ruined you in his mind; he’s already came to the thought of losing the grip on his self-control and fucking you speechless. It’s not like he can lie to himself when he’s already spilled his seed over his fist so many times to the thought of you. He knows he’s not better than his impulses and fantasies. And he knows, maybe, that this could be something that’s just meant to happen. Hell, better him than any of the little horny fuckers you call classmates. Natsuo hums and he noses at your hair, skims his fingers along your stomach. “You smell really nice,” he murmurs. “Makes me...hungry.” You giggle a little, dumb and clueless, and you stay still in his hold- not moving even when his hands run down your sides and fall to the tops of your thighs. You don’t seem to mind when he noses down the side of your head and hooks his chin over your shoulder and Natsuo’s lashes lower at the content smile on your face. “You smell nice too, Natsuo-nii,” you chirp, complimenting him in return. Natsuo hums and allows his fingers to trace along your thighs- fingers dipping just over the top to glance along the soft insides. You blink at that, lashes fluttering, and Natsuo doesn’t bother stopping even when you tilt your head his way. You’re not blushing- you just look curious and a little clueless like the naive airhead you are. Even when his hands replace his fingers and his palms cup the insides of your thighs, all you do is smile like the perfect little ditz that you are and lean back further into his chest. Natsuo hums and he accepts your non-reactions as consent, feels the last few threads of his self-control begin to snap and fray. “You’re really cute too, you know,” he murmurs- squeezing your thighs ever so lightly. “Bet all the boys are chasin’ after you.” You do blush a bit this time- pink dusting over your cheeks and your head moving in a tiny little shake. “No?” Natsuo asks, brow raising. “Don’t tell me you don’t have a boyfriend- you’re much too pretty to be single.” Your flush flares oh so sweetly and it’s hard for him not to dig his fingers deep into your thighs, run his hand up high. The “Natsuo-nii” that you half squeak, half whine at the compliment is nothing short of adorable and, really, he’s lucky you’re angled in your lean against his chest, that you can’t feel his hardness against your back. “Come on,” he coaxes- all friendly and teasing like a “big brother” should be. “You can tell me.” You squirm a little and it causes his hands to slide closer to the hem of your skirt, makes his heart beat a little faster. The shy bite to your lip has Natsuo hungry for you and he almost bites his own in want. “I- I don’t have a boyfriend,” you mumble, face turning just a bit like you’re trying to hide a little. “I’ve never...I’ve never had a boyfriend.” Fuck you’re such a sweet, untouched thing. Natsuo swallows a groan and he flexes his fingers against your thighs, tries his best not to just grab onto you. “That’s a shame,” he tells you, voice dipping low. “Cute thing like you should be appreciated and adored.” The pink on your cheeks flare into a darling red and Natsuo feels his lips twitch with a touch of amusement whenever a shy, pleased smile flickers across your face. He’s not really used to you being bashful, but he likes it- likes it a lot, actually. “No boyfriend at all?” he presses with a murmur. “You’ve at least gotten a kiss before, right?” He is, admittedly, disappointed whenever you give a small nod. He is not disappointed, however, when the muscles in your thighs flex and your legs spread just a tiny bit wider, when you only blink whenever his hands dare to smooth down right to the very hem of your skirt. “Kind of?” you tell him- voice uncertain and flush lingering. “Um, Kacchan kissed me on the last school trip but that was only ‘cause Kaminari dared him to.” Your shyness peaks a little, voice growing softer with each word and Natsuo wets his lips when you continue with, “It- It was just a peck. Not a real kiss.” Any disappointment he had fades away and Natsuo leans over you a little bit, cages you more against him and tries not to grin. Careful, a voice whispers in the back of his mind. You don’t want to scare her away. Natsuo hums and he strokes his fingers along your soft thighs, enjoys the small squirm from you that it brings. You still don’t pull away and, god, he’s so certain now that you’d let him do almost anything. “Sounds like a kiss to me,” he muses. “What do you mean by a real kiss?” You squirm more and, god, now his hands are just underneath your skirt. He’s not sure if you notice. He’s not sure if he cares anymore. “Like, um,” you say, a little dumb but still so sweet, “like with tongues and stuff…” You sound like a kid- naive and innocent and without any real knowledge of kisses and intimacy. Maybe it shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does but, god, it makes him feel predatory and hungry. “With tongues and stuff?” he asks- unable to help a little tease. You pout at him, but there’s a smile quirking up on the corners of your lips despite your petulance at being teased and, god, he’s really too weak to hold back anymore. “So you mean,” he murmurs and reaches a hand to cup your face, “something like this.” Before you can react, Natsuo leans down and presses his lips against yours. A surprised noise leaves you at the sudden kiss, but it’s nothing that Natsuo hears- his ears are full with the sound of his blood rushing and his heart pounding hard and fast. You don’t pull away from him. You don’t shove him or try to squirm away. You let yourself be kissed and you flush beneath his hand- startled and confused but unoffended by your best friend’s big brother molding his lips against your. It’s only when he traces your bottom lip with his tongue that you react more than being a passive little doll- you gasp, softly, and press forward just a bit against him, let something close to a whimper crawl from your throat. Natsuo’s free hand finds your other cheek then and he slips his tongue between parted lips, lets it brush against yours and swallows a groan when you instinctively start to kiss back. Such a good girl. Your lips are so soft- cherry flavored and sweet. The wavering, whimpering, unsure noises that you make has his mind reeling with greed and need and, honestly, he could kiss you for hours on end. He wants to do so much more, though. He needs to do so much more. Natsuo hums into the kiss and moves a hand down to the middle of your back, pushes you even closer. The way you tremble underneath his hand is so cute, but it’s even cuter when you curl your fingers against his chest, look up at him with half-shut eyes and flushed cheeks whenever he breaks the kiss. Natsuo smiles down at you- boyish and friendly- and he revels in the way you press your face against his palm, how you let out a wanting- if confused and flustered- sound. “Sorry,” he apologizes, not meaning it at all. “You’re just so cute, you know- I couldn’t help myself.” Your blush flares from sakura pink to rose red and Natsuo takes pleasure in the way you squirm shyly, grip onto the fabric of his hoodie. The “Natsuo-nii” you mumble out is soft and bashful, far from the whine he had expected. He likes it, though, and enjoys the sheer haze pulled over your eyes, the nearly dazed look that plays across your face. “Did you like it?” he asks, smoothing his hand from your cheek to your chin and pressing his thumb against the plush flesh of your bottom lip. Your mouth opens automatically, unthinkingly, and it takes all of his weathered down self-control not to slip his fingers inside that wet, warm hole. “Was it real enough for you?” A soft noise and a hitch of your breath, lashes fluttering with some stray embarrassment. This time the “Natsuo-nii” you mumble is trailed after by a small whine and Natsuo hums at it, strokes his thumb along your bottom lip. He doesn’t bother trying to coax you more- your compliance and the way you're still pressed against him is enough consent for him to capture your lips in another kiss, to slip his tongue inside your soft mouth and muffle the whine that sounds from you. Natsuo kisses you hotly, deeply, wetly. He pours all his pent-up hunger into it and lets his self-control slip away completely, groans into your mouth and pulls you into his lap. You let yourself be manhandled like the dumb, docile, good girl you are and Natsuo grips your hips once you’re seated pretty on his lap, groans again whenever he feels your little mound brush against his hard cock. The gasp that you let out whenever he pushes your hips forward and back to hump against him almost has him snarling- something primitive and rough in the back of his mind getting off on the innocent, pure surprise you radiate as your clothed cunny is made to grind against his dick. You whimper, hips moving on their own, and Natsuo breaks the kiss to tangle fingers in your hair, watch you through half-shut eyes as something like wonder flickers over your flushed face. “I- feels good, Natsuo-nii,” you mumble, head dropping to watch as your hips rock against him. “I don’t- why does it…” A mewl leaves you as you trail off and Natsuo places his hand to your neck, makes your head tilt back so he can nose against the soft flesh of your throat. You shudder whenever he kisses you there and Natsuo hums deeply in satisfaction, licks a little stripe and makes you moan so, so, so quietly. “Feels good because you’re grindin’ against my cock,” Natsuo hums out. “Feels good ‘cause your pussy is excited for it.” Your gasp this time is almost scandalized- cheeks flaring in shock at his words and the way your pussy is starting to throb with a slow, honeyed pulse. Natsuo can’t help his amused grin against your neck and he takes pleasure in the way you whimper whenever he rocks his hips to meet yours. You’re so warm even if he’s done so little- clothed cunny radiating heat as it glides over his hard-on. He desperately wants to feel your warmth with his fingers, slide a digit along your surely wet slit and make you fuck yourself on his fingers until you’re leaking and glazed over. Another gasp as you hump against him and Natsuo places a wet, hot kiss to your throat, breathes in deep whenever your hands grip onto his shoulders. “Sit up on your knees, baby,” he orders in a murmur, pulling his head back to take in the glory of your carmine cheeks and parted, trembling lips. You lashes flutter with the command, some disappointment and reluctance flashing across your already fuzzy face. You obey him, though, and Natsuo’s eyes fall half-shut whenever your hands grip his shoulders tighter, when you do what he says without any thought or protest. Such a good girl. When his hands grip your thighs and push them further apart, a confused noise sounds from you. Another follows whenever your skirt gets flipped over your hips, but the sound you make whenever his hand rubs over your cunny is flustered and surprised- a gasp that morphs into a whimper when the heel of his palm grinds down against your clit. The oh so soft whine of “Natsuo-nii” you let out has Natsuo groaning and he grinds his palm harder against you, narrows his eyes in pleasure whenever your hips buck against his hand. “Call me nii-chan,” he orders, voice low with a growl that wants to sound. “Call me big brother.” You whine again and it’s so loud this time, so needy as your back arches and you grind like a well-experienced slut against his palm. “Nii...nii-chan…” Natsuo closes his eyes at the whimper and he smooths his free hand over his dick- grinds up against his palm in a mirrored movement of your own needy little undulations. “Good girl,” he breathes out. “So good for me.” Another whimper and Natsuo hooks his fingers underneath your panties, tugs them to the side. You squeal a little at that, hips moving in a surprised shake, but you’re quick to gasp and settle whenever he glides a finger up your slit, rubs against your clit. “Nii- nii-chan! Feels- it feels good!” Of course it does- he doubts you’ve felt this sort of pleasure before, that you can even comprehend and keep up with the way your body is building and chasing after an orgasm. He’s going to give you your first cum and, fuck, that’s hot- that’s so hot. Natsuo hums and strokes his finger over your clit, circles it with just the tip of the digit and watches with a half-smile as you gasp and start falling apart so sweetly at his touch. You’re warm- just like he had imagined- and Natsuo breathes in deep as he feels his cock twitch at the thought of sinking into your plush heat, stirring up those hot insides. You shake as he teases the wet hole of your pussy and Natsuo realizes that he wants you to come for the very first time on his cock. With a lick of his lips, Natsuo pulls his hand away from you. Disappointment, petulance cross across your pretty, hazy face and Natsuo huffs fondly at the quick panic of desperation that rises in your eyes, the way you let out a needy whine. He pushes you back from him and down onto your laying on the floor and underneath him- legs sprawled and skirt flipped up, panties slicked to the side to show off your wet, swollen cunny. You whimper as he looks over you hungrily and Natsuo is quick to kiss your confusion and embarrassment away. Your kisses are so frantic- clumsy and overwhelmed and needy as your hands cling to his hoodie, scrabble along his back. He adores your inexperienced attempts at kissing him back, but he loves the way your back arches whenever he slots himself between your thighs and grinds down against you. Natsuo swallows and smothers the moan that you let out whenever his hands push up your shirt and squeeze your soft breasts. He breaks from the kiss, though, to hear your mewls and cute little squeals when he teases your nipples. The way you grip his hair whenever he sucks one of those flushed peaks into his mouth almost makes him lose his mind and Natsuo groans into your soft skin, snaps his hips into a hard grind against your soaked pussy. “Natsuo- onii-chan, feels- it feels-” Feels so good, right? A whine leaves you and you interrupt your own babbling, whimper into his mouth whenever he surges up and crushes his hungry lips against yours. You don’t notice whenever he reaches a hand to push his sweatpants down and out of the way and Natsuo groans whenever his dick slides against your wet cunt. The panicked noise that leaves you doesn’t deter him at all- nor does the way you squirm in uncertainty underneath him. He only pulls his face back from the kiss to look over you when you whimper and he smiles at you sweetly- nice and friendly and so, so warm. The way his face softens helps you to relax a little, but nervousness still claims your expression- eyes wide and teeth nibbling on your bottom lip as you tremble underneath him. “Nii- nii-chan, I’m...I can’t...I’m…’m a virgin.” Your embarrassed, anxious mutter only makes him that much harder. Natsuo’s face softens more even as his lust rises- smile nearly beatific, cock aching- and he hums as his hands reach to cup your face- arms hooking your thighs over the crooks of his elbows and pressing them close to your chest. He kisses your forehead and it’s chaste enough to make you nearly melt, flusters you even more with how it juxtaposes against his hard cock laying against your pussy. “That’s okay,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek and then your lips. “I’ll be gentle.” “W- wait-!” Another kiss to your forehead and Natsuo cants his hips back and then pushes them forward, sinks into your virgin, wet cunt. You clench down around him immediately- a sob tearing from your lips as your tight, tight insides are forced to stretch open to accommodate his dick. It’s hot in you- honeyed and so fucking sweet, syrupy. Natsuo moans as he slowly fills you inch by aching inch- mind hazing over and face burying into the crook over your neck as your plush insides flutter and squeeze around him oh so desperately. He nuzzles you whenever he hears you sniffle and whimper and lifts his head to smile at you- face drunken with bliss and smile so serene as he cups your cheek, grinds into your tight little cunny. “Shh, baby,” he croons, fingers brushing a stray tear from your cheek and comforting you as your face contorts with pain. “Onii-chan’s got you. You’re okay.” It’s horrible, but he gets that much harder whenever you sniffle and whimper, press into his touch in search of consolation. He doesn’t feel bad about it, though- can’t feel bad about it whenever your molten, heady insides squeeze around him in accompaniment to the onii-chan you mumble out. Natsuo hums, satisfied and smiling, and he kisses you sweetly, smiles a bit bigger when he pulls his head back to take in your trembling, pouting lips and wet lashes. Such an innocent little thing. So adorable. Natsuo grinds his hips against you and watches as you squirm underneath him, groans at the hiccuping little sob that sounds from you whenever he rolls his hips back and rocks them forward so he can fill you fully once more. “So tight,” he murmurs as he rolls his hips and sinks into your heat slowly. “So wet. You’re such a good girl.” A soft noise makes its way from your throat and Natsuo revels in how your cunny flutters around his cock, how your body relaxes ever so slightly with the praise. The “nii-san” you sniffle out is sulky- like a kid pouting after scraping their knee- but it’s sweet too- soft and whiny and hot. “Mmm,” Natsuo hums, nuzzling against your cheek, “gonna make you feel so good, I promise.” Another soft noise and then a mewl, your head tilting back and fingers curling into your palms as Natsuo begins to fuck you slowly. He takes the opportunity to latch his lips onto your throat and groans as he starts to suck a dark little bruise, slides his hands up your arms and laces his fingers through yours as you gasp and moan, clench around him. Fuck you feel so good- silken and sweet, scorching with your honeyed heat. You could make a man lose his mind- you are making Natsuo lose his mind. He could stay buried in your pussy forever. Natsuo groans against your throat and snaps his hips against you harder, fucks your pulpy, mushy, perfect insides faster. You gasp and whimper at it, but your cunny clenches around him eagerly- hot insides gripping at his cock likes they’re trying to keep him from pulling out, like they’re trying to suck him in even deeper. “Nii- nii-chan...nii-chan, please- I- feels good…” Look at you- gone from sniffling to begging in just a second. He knew you’d be such a good little girl for him, that a darling like you was made to be fucked. Natsuo hums- low and satisfied- and he noses up your neck and along your jawline, catches the lobe of your ear between his teeth as he fucks you faster. He almost doesn’t want to come- you feel that good around him. He wants to live in this moment forever- this perfect slice of heaven with you moaning and squeezing around his cock, gasping and gripping his hands tight as pleasure starts to build and overwhelm your simple little mind. He doesn’t want to come but, fuck, how can he not? No one could resist your whines and your whimpers, the clench of your pussy. No one could hold back with you mewling “onii-chan, please- more!” No one could keep in control with you panting and unraveling- confused over so much pleasure but so eager for it, so greedy as your mind blanks and all you can do is focus on the feeling of your cunny being fucked and filled by a hard, hard cock. Natsuo grits his teeth as you squeeze around him frantically, struggles to hold back as you whine and look up at him with almost panicked eyes. “Nii- nii-san, feels- feels-” You can’t finish the sentence, can’t even begin to string words together. The way your voice pitches with need and distress has Natsuo’s cheeks flushing as he fucks into your wet, squelching pussy and he groans as you whine, throb around him. “S’okay,” he assures you- drunk on the feeling of your pussy and almost dizzy from your cute, overwhelmed need. “You’re just gonna come, baby. It’s fine; you can do it. Fuck- come for me, baby. Come on my cock.” You sob and your body tries to arch, tenses as you clamp around him tight, tight, tight. He cries out as you begin to come and he fucks into you without thought- primal and frenzied and rough as you cry out his name and dig your nails into the back of his hands, pant and shake and fall apart into a whimpering mess underneath. Natsuo fucks into your pulsing, coming, creaming pussy once, twice, three times and then he trips after you into pleasure- moaning and grinding his hips tight against yours as he fills your cunny with hot, wet, sticky cum. You come again from that like a good girl- pussy fluttering and a sweet mewl slipping from your lips as one orgasm passes into the next- and Natsuo trembles from the overstimulation of your greedy little cunny, groans and buries his face into the crook of your neck as he humps into your cum coated insides. “Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he breathes out- hot and sated and almost lightheaded as you pulse around him sweetly. “So good for me.” A whimper, a mewl. He lifts his head whenever you mumble out a sleepy “onii-chan” and smiles to himself at the dumb, blissed out look on your face, the flush on your cheeks and the soft noise that leaves you whenever he presses a kiss to your lips. “See?” he murmurs to you. “Told you nii-san would take care of you.” Another soft noise- this one nearly thoughtful as you give a tiny little nod. Natsuo hums his satisfaction and kisses you again- slips his tongue into your wet, yielding mouth and coaxes a tired moan from you. He could fuck you again- he’s sure you want him to fuck you again- but he knows that his time is running short, that he doesn’t have enough left to fuck you even more stupid and sweet. Next time though… Anticipation and satisfaction twine through Natsuo’s chest and he grins to himself, runs a hand along your side and kisses you chastely as he slowly, reluctantly slips out from your honeyed insides. The disappointed whine that you let out almost has him sliding back in, but Natsuo steadies himself and slowly backs off of you, strokes his cock as he eyes your leaking cunny oozing out his fat load and then tucks himself away. You don’t move- eyes heavy and cheeks rosy, chest moving with soft little pants as you try to catch your breath. You look like a dream like that- beautiful and tempting; a fucked out doll beckoning even more pleasure. Natsuo licks his lips as his gaze travels over you and he takes a deep, deep breath to try to bolster his self-control, reaches and fixes your panties so your weeping pussy is hidden from sight. “You okay?” Natsuo asks- voice soft and sweet and full of care. A quiet little noise leaves you and he has to hide a smile whenever you sit up- arms trembling and eyes blinking slowly, stupidly before you rub at them with a fist. “I’m...I’m okay,” you mumble- voice faint, drunk with sated pleasure. “Felt...felt good, nii-chan. Was so warm…” Natsuo hums and he smiles as you yawn, looks over you in satisfaction. You blink whenever he touches your face and he can see you practically melt as he pets your flushed cheek. So sweet. Such a good girl. “Why don’t you take a nap in Shoto’s room?” he suggests. “Just until he gets home.” You hum, face turning to nuzzle into his palm, and he takes that as compliance. Natsuo hesitates before sending you off, though, and licks his lips nervously as a bit of panic peeks up through his satiation. “Hey,” he says, voice just a bit louder to grab your attention. You blink over at him, face still so drowsy and sweet, and Natsuo takes a deep breath. “Don’t tell anyone about this,” he tells you- firm but trying to sound like the nice Natsuo-nii that you’ve always adored. Confusion blossoms over your cute little face and Natsuo swallows as you frown, as your brows furrow in puzzlement. “Why not?” you ask so very innocently. It’s cute, but he can’t quite appreciate it while nerves are jittering under his skin. “Because...because they might get jealous,” he lies- though that could be true as well. “And you might get in trouble with your sensei and your parents if they find out.” Your sleepy eyes widen a little at the thought of getting into trouble and Natsuo watches your frown grow, uneasiness creep over your frame. “I- I don’t wanna get in trouble,” you mumble, lip bitten and voice distressed. “I...I don’t want that.” Natsuo nods, relieved by your reaction, and he pets your cheek as you begin to fret over imagined scolding. “You won’t get in trouble if know one knows,” he reassures you. “You just can’t tell anyone, okay?” You squirm, still nervous and frowning, but you nod just the same, curl your fingers into your skirt. “I won’t tell anyone,” you swear, voice almost eager in its sincerity. “I promise!” Natsuo smiles at you and he feels you relax underneath his hand as he nods. “That’s a good girl,” he tells you and pats your cheek. You blink when he leans closer to you and Natsuo takes one last, stolen second to press his lips to yours. “Don’t tell anyone. And...and maybe some other day we can do this again- if you keep your promise, that is.” Your eyes widen at the thought and something wicked and pleased purrs in Natsuo’s chest when you flush and nod shyly, squirm in front of him like an eager little thing. He stands and he offers you a hand, helps you up from the floor. There’s one last pleased noise that leaves you whenever he graces the top of your head with a kiss and Natsuo hums before lightly swatting your tush and nudging you toward the hallway. “Go rest. And remember not to say anything to my brother.” You nod- cheeks flushed and the motion solemn- and Natsuo watches with a satisfied smile as you scamper toward Shoto’s room- legs wobbling and just a little splayed. Well. That was something. Natsuo’s smile twitches into a grin and he sighs in contentment as he flops down onto the couch, closes his eyes and thanks the gods for letting him indulge in such a forbidden temptation, for having you react like such a sweet, perfect little darling for him. Natsuo hardens a bit as he savors the memory of your honeyed insides and he hums as he reaches a hand to smooth over his cock, grins contentedly as his mind flashes through all the other things he needs to introduce you to. Maybe next time he’ll teach you how to swallow him down, suckle around his cock. Maybe he’ll have you wrap your soft hand around him, show you how he likes to be stroked. Maybe he’ll have you ride him until you’re exhausted and unable to move, helpless and easily flipped over to be fucked and filled again and again and again. There are so many things to look forward to. Natsuo smiles to himself and he quietly starts to plot how he can get the house to himself again, how he can coax your sweet, bumbling self into his bed.

#natsuo x reader #natsuo todoroki x reader #natsuo todoroki #bnha #rooni's shit #thank you again anon and sorry this took so long/spiraled out of control :#:'3

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reflections-in-a-critical-eye · 3 years

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Idk are people blind or what? Twitter was so hot with V posting Leslie Cheung like to support LGBT people, but guys c’mon. The point is not him posting it, but him editing it two times to obviously not be interpreted in some way (I don’t say he’s homophobic, but I definitely say he JUST shared what he liked, it WAS NOT someone’s orientation, but an artistry) and in the end he just deleted it lmao. Because posting it I guess was controversial. Because he doesn’t want to “hint” at anything and because just like 75% of media persons he’s scared of whatever the hell could his fans interpret and to be an open supporter is just not the case here. Gosh, sorry, BMT, I’m just a little bit done with these pink lenses.

Anon, I am so done, you have no idea. I've been done for the past few days and it just feels like it doesn't stop. The day Tae posted that on his IG and I saw the reach from some people, I came here to provide a bit of extra information because we should have some context. I thought it wouldn't go further than that, but boy, was I wrong. So wrong. So now I'm just going to have a rant because I'm not ignoring this and it's going to be under read more cause I will have no filter whatsoever. I'm in no mood for propriety at this point and building up arguments.

So, what the actual fuck? Has the world gone mad? Of course Twitter was hot because they attach themselves to every little thing without using their brain. Tae shared a link to a scene from a movie. A movie that he likes and he did the dancing way back in Spring. But only now it has to become a thing cause probably army couldn't figure it out before where it came from. That was all. What fucking support man? What are we talking about here? All I see is stans projecting their needs onto a guy and turning him into some ally. Duude, go and find actual people who are either from the LGBTQ+ community or actual allies, instead of obsessing over this. I don't give a single fuck about threads made by people who think that just because a guy watches Call Me By Your Name or another one watches La Vie d'Adele, then they're some knights in shining armour, the face of support. The standards are so god damn low. Get out of the bubble (not you anon, I hope you understood already I'm not addressing this to you, but I'm talking in general).

There's this twitter account that I follow that focuses on BTS and cinema who apparently thought that information about Leslie Cheung's personal life is absolutely necessary to be brought to army's attention, instead of just focusing on saying what the film was, who directed it and maybe recommend other films. Are we forgetting we're dealing here with people from this kind of fandom? Full of children and immature people? And taekookers are the scum of the Earth, I don't even know what else to call them. Tagging his partner on IG, spreading a suicide note on twitter and crying about how it's such a tragic love story and so similar to Taekook? I feel like the word disgusted is not enough. No empathy and decency is left in this corner of the fandom and I'm sick of it. No one should bring that man's life in this fucking fandom. Let him rest in peace and his partner should not have to see that kind of bullshit. And this happens time and time again. Using other people's lives like it's nothing. Of course the information is out there, a click away on google. But to bring it to twitter and to create a fucking discourse around it, because some fetishizers are sick in the head is beyond anything I could imagine. That man's life should not in any way be associated with Army/Tae stans/Taekookers. And no one should fucking tag tumblr posts as well using his name in the context of this issue. His fans should not have to see such bullshit. I wish I could gatekeep it, as childish as it sounds.

And I'm not sorry at all for turning this into a personal rant. I discovered Leslie back in high school, by watching his movies and recently got back into that. He was an incredible artist and he left an important legacy. Everyone should respect that.

#asks #fucking armys and taekookers #they really know how to ruin everything #taekook

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iamtheblondestblonde · 4 years

Text

The Clark Kent Effect

Part One

AN: So this is meant to be the beginning of a (semi short) series, depending on how well it’s received. Feedback is therefore more than appreciated and always remember I love reading tags. Feel free to message me or send me anons as well, every interaction makes my day :)

To all my American followers: please go vote tomorrow, I don’t even live there but I still know how important it is.

Word Count: 2.9k (short boi)

Warnings: alcohol and one swear word maybe?

Part Two

My other writing can be found here

While your costume had seemed like a great idea two days ago you now thought differently.

Technically it was a great costume, but only because you hadn’t exactly planned on needing to step out of the club to make an angry phone call. Alas here you were, legs shaking and teeth clattering because of your stupidly short dress, this situation the last nail in the coffin that would finally pronounce your disaster with Colin dead for good. You weren’t sad about it in the least, only cold. If only you’d thought of grabbing your jacket on your way outside this wouldn’t be as bad, it was the end of October and you were in New York after all, but you’d been so angry to see his caller ID on your screen that you’d stormed out without thinking, which you now deeply regretted.

Stepping back inside was like heaven and running into a wall at the same time, if said wall was made out of hot air and the smell of sweat, hairspray and alcohol. You really shouldn’t be happy about stuffy air, but at least you weren’t shivering anymore so you were going to mark it down as a success in your books. Since the restrooms were close to your right you made a quick detour, checking if everything was still where it was supposed to be.

At least your boobs hadn’t fallen out yet and you dismissed the judgy stares in the restroom as you readjusted your cleavage and reapplied your bold red lipstick. Normally you’d stare as well, not judging but usually intrigued by women who portrayed such confidence but tonight you were one of these women and you wouldn’t let anyone else ruin it. You’d earned a good night out after finally escaping Colin’s manipulative fuckboy ways and telling him to get lost for good.

So with your chin up and your shoulders straight you stepped out of the restroom, determined to find your group of friends again so you could get drunk and finally have a good time. It took a bit longer than you’d like to admit, your heels only barely giving your tiny frame a height advantage but then you finally spotted the fluffy halo of your best friend. After making sure that it was really her – there were enough angels in this room to make any priest happy after all – you quickly made your way over to her.

Or at least you tried.

You’d only gotten a few steps in when your heel got caught in the costume of a guy dressed up as mummy – which really only consisted of his regular clothes and what you estimated to be about three rolls of toilet paper – and you stumbled. You could already see yourself in the emergency room of the closest hospital with a broken nose from crashing to the ground, blood running down your face and staining your already red dress. Perhaps you could play it off as a part of your costume but it’d still hurt and your night would definitely be over.

But none of that happened because you were saved by a very handsome Superman. He’d stood with his back to you, you’d definitely spotted his broad shoulders underneath the stretched blue fabric earlier, but he’d turned in your direction right before gravity had decided to take its toll on you. Apparently his costume was justified though, because he caught you with cat-like reflexes, wrapping his hands around your arms and pulling you back towards an upright position before anything damaging could happen.

He was a lot taller than you so the first thing you really noticed of him was his throat and perhaps you really should’ve dressed up as a vampire because you noticed that he had a very sexy throat, if that was even a thing. Your weird thoughts were interrupted by him chuckling though and your gaze quickly snapped up to meet his and you really weren’t sure if you should congratulate or scold yourself for how you’d managed to end up in his arms.

The handsome stranger was wearing glasses in true Clark Kent fashion and his hair was better than any DC artist could have dreamed of, perfectly tousled in the way that showed that he liked to run his hands through it and you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t tempted to do the same. In the dim lighting of the club you couldn’t make out the color of his eyes behind his glasses but they could honestly be yellow and he’d still be hot as fuck.

Sometime during your almost-fall your hands had ended up on his chest and you really should be embarrassed about the fact that you were practically feeling him up but somehow you couldn’t find yourself to care enough to let go. You relaxed your hands from the tight grasp they had on his shirt and instead carefully splayed them out on his chest as if you were going to push yourself off of him but not really doing so. With how you were pressed against him you could feel the heat radiating through his shirt and how firm his body was, his muscular built more and more evident with every passing second. His hands had started to wander as well, moving up from the side of your arms towards the top of your shoulders, the size of them burning itself into your mind as you just stared at each other.

If one were to ask you what day it was right this moment, you honestly wouldn’t be able to answer them despite everyone in this club dressed in Halloween costumes. Mozart himself could have returned from the dead to perform “Eine kleine Nachtmusik” with a string quartett in the middle of this dancefloor and you probably wouldn’t have noticed right now, too caught up in the eyes of this handsome stranger.

When he reached up with one of his hands to adjust the little devil’s horns on top of your head you blinked in surprise, finally snapping out of your daze.

“Oh my God I’m so sorry, I totally didn’t mean to crash into you but my heel got caught and-“, you began to ramble, your sense of common decency finally kicking in but he only laughed and since neither of you had taken a step backwards yet you could feel it rumbling through his chest.

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t mind having beautiful girls quite literally falling for me”, he joked and if he were any other guy you probably would’ve scoffed at his choice of words but somehow the boyish charm worked well for him and you found yourself grinning as you came up with a response.

“Mmm let’s hope this isn’t a normal occurrence for you because I’m not a fan of getting caught in traffic.” You finally found the strength to take a, very reluctant, step back, untangling yourself from his grasp and dropping your hands but still smiling up at him. He definitely had the potential to be your catch for the night. You could really use the distraction after all.

Your blissful thoughts were interrupted by someone tugging at your arm though, a look over your shoulder revealing a pouting angel dressed in white and with a bouncing halo. It seemed like Emily had found you instead after you’d gotten distracted by your hero.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over the place for you”, she whined and you could tell by her slurred words that she’d gotten quite the head start while you were outside on your phone as she was well on her way to get plastered. Otherwise she never would’ve interrupted a conversation with a hot guy either, it was an unspoken wingwoman rule after all.

“Come on, Dana just brought a new round of shots and you need to catch up!” And with that she tightened her grip on your wrist and pulled you away. You barely managed to tell the handsome stranger to come find you later before he disappeared between the writhing bodies and was out of your sight.

Way too many shots later you found yourself on the dance floor, intoxicated and having a great time.

Your thoughts hadn’t wandered to Superman in quite a while, too consumed by alcohol and the thumping beat of the music, until you spotted him leaning against the banister of the top floor, drink in one hand and definitely watching you. Again, this would be creepy if he were anyone else but in this case it only made you appreciate the current sensual song even more, your eyes never leaving his as you moved your body to the beat. You were planning on going home with him later either way, you could tease him a little more before then, show him what he could have if he played his cards right.

He was still watching you a couple of songs later when your throat had gotten dry and your heels were starting to grow uncomfortable. In need of a break you pointed towards the bar, hoping that he’d understand and when he nodded you smiled brightly, excusing yourself from your group of friends so you could grab some water. You were done drinking for tonight, much more exciting things laying ahead of you and you wanted to be sober for them.

Water was apparently a welcome change from the regular orders the bartenders got because you were served immediately, a cool bottle set in front of you seconds later. You checked over your shoulder before taking a sip, spotting your Superman as he made his way towards you with a smile, one you returned before turning back around to climb on the stool that had just freed up so you could give your feet a well-deserved break.

When you felt a tap on your shoulder you fully expected it to be the hot guy, your most dazzling smile instantly on your lips as you turned around but it quickly fell off your face as you realized who it really was.

When you were younger you’d often imagined yourself in this moment, thought of what you’d say when you’d finally see him again after all this time apart. A small part of you had pined after him for years and fantasies of how your eyes would meet from across the room and how everything else would stop mattering had filled your daydreams once upon a time. But as you looked at him now there were no butterflies, no fireworks and you could still hear some remix of “Monster Mash” blaring over the speakers, the world was definitely still turning.

Perhaps you’d built up what had been between the two of you in your mind in the years of his absence, put him on a pedestal – he deserved to be one though because through everything he had been nothing short of a great guy – but as you looked at him you realized that all that was in the past. There was just a warm afterglow of what once was. As you looked at him now, there was absolutely no doubt that you didn’t love Anthony Beauvillier anymore.

“I wasn’t sure if it was really you, but wow Y/N you look great”, his familiar voice met your ears and it took you a second to realize that he’d slipped into French, the way the two of you had done countless times as teenagers.

You probably resembled a fish with the way you were opening and closing your mouth without saying anything but you couldn’t help yourself. Seeing Tito in this club had hit you like a fright train and you hadn’t expected it at all, which only made it worse.

Almost 20 Million people lived in New York State and over 8.3 Million in New York City alone. Brooklyn housed well over 500.000 people as well and yet you still managed to run into your ex in this club, despite the both of you growing up in Québec. If you were any good at math you would calculate the probability of this happening but you’d always sucked at it and it really wouldn’t help your situation either. You reminded yourself that you both worked here now but that was absolutely beside the point.

Before you managed to embarrass yourself even further you shook your head to clear your thoughts, smiling at the guy who had once held your heart before making the break into the NHL. He was dressed as a boy scout, with medals pinned to his shirt, the scarf thingy and everything and the costume was so incredibly him that you immediately felt catapulted back into your teenage years. It was easy to fall back into your old routine then.

“Oh yeah, do you think your Mom would still speak so highly of me if she saw me dressed as a slutty devil?”, you joked and he threw his head back in laughter, taking you even more by surprise when he threw his arms around you in a hug. It was a bit awkward with you sitting on the bar stool and all and it made you realize that he himself didn’t even feel the same anymore, his career of being a professional athlete shaping his body into a much more bulkier version of the one you were used to.

As you looked over his shoulder you caught the gaze of your Superman and your thoughts immediately returned to him. What must he be thinking of you hugging another stranger at the bar after telling him to come see you? The confusion was evident of his face, a crease between his eyebrows giving his thoughts away and you noticed how he scrunched up his nose in a very cute way so you immediately pulled back from Tito, reaching up to adjust your horns as a disguise for your sudden movement.

“So, did you finally manage to make your dreams of living and working in New York City come true?”, he asked as he took a step closer to let someone else pass by and you nodded, amazed that he still remembered after all these years. He really was one of the good guys.

“Yep, I finally made it, although it’s not as glamorous as I thought it would be. But maybe that’s only us working class people, I’m sure it’s a lot different in your line of work.” Thankfully he picked up on your teasing and wasn’t insulted, only laughing even more as he finally had the space to move next to you so he could look at the crowd as well.

“Speaking of work..”, he trailed off as he switched back to English and to your utter disbelief he waved your Superman over. Superman was reluctant to move at first, that much you could tell by looking at him, and since you watched him extra closely you were probably the only one to catch him flinching a little as Tito threw his arm around his shoulders but his confused expression was obvious as he looked between the two of you.

“Y/N, this is my teammate and best friend Mat, I’m sure you’ve heard of him. Mat, this is my ex Y/N. You’ve also heard of her.”

Of course you’d heard of Mathew Barzal, last year’s Calder winner and rising star among the NHL’s elite players but it seemed like you were a victim of the Clark Kent Effect because you hadn’t recognized him at all with the glasses on.

Now your Superman had a name but the only thing you could focus on were the words “best friend”. No matter how hot Mat was and how much you’d wanted him before, very much imagining him helping you out of your tight dress, you couldn’t do that to Tito.

Mat seemed to come to the same realization as you because he plastered what could only be described as a business smile on his face, extending his hand for you to shake. You took it, relishing in the way his warm palm felt against yours and allowing yourself to enjoy his touch one last time before letting go and smiling at him with sad eyes as you introduced yourself.

Tito stayed to order a drink, pulling Mat and you into a conversation and therefore preventing your escape and while that was already bad enough in itself, he unknowingly took your breath away when he asked Mat:

“Hey, did you ever find that hot klutz you told me about? The one that fell into your arms earlier?”

Tito had his back towards the both of you so he didn’t see the way Mat looked down at you with sad eyes as well before pulling himself together and responding:

“Yeah, but turns out she’s not available after all.”

The rest of the night passed in a blur, you’d returned to alcohol after saying goodbye to Tito and Mat and promising Tito to stay in touch, so you barely remembered climbing into an uber hours later and only really came to your senses when you chugged a water bottle in your kitchen.

“Wait, weren’t you planning on going home with that hot Superman you mentioned earlier? What happened to him?”, Emily asked from her spot on the couch, her usual spot after a night out since your apartment was closer.

“I guess he left”, you answered, not really willing to go into any details right now.

“Aw, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

And wasn’t that the truth.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #new york islanders #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine #hockey writing #my writing #nhl players #nhl

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