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bloatedandalone04 · 1 year ago

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In The Way I Need You | Part 2

Series Masterlist

➪in which you meet lilith and joey, as well as learn about clay’s heart condition, despite him not wanting you to find out and think he’s weak because of it.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 4.6k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

You couldn’t believe the hottest guy you had ever met had a kid, and he wanted you to meet said kid. Look after him, even.

Oh, God. That is so not professional.

You had asked to meet up for an interview with this guy and you think he’s hot. Your potential, what, boss? You couldn’t think like that, no matter how damn near edible he is.

Stop.

It was nearing six when you finally arrived at his house, and you were happy to discover that it wasn’t too far from the apartment you were renting until you found something more permanent.

You were sweating a bit as you stepped out of the taxi you were somehow able to flag down. Clay looked like a businessman when you met him, so you knew he must have a decent paying job, but the building you were currently standing in front of was one that had to be the home of a billionaire.

This was the address he had given you, right?

You were doubting it a bit, but you weren’t able to turn back around and ask if this was the right place before the taxi pulled away and left you behind.

Debating on whether or not you should call him, you push away your doubts and walk up the steps of the building and knock on the door. After waiting for a few beats with no indication that anyone was coming, you realize that your knocks wouldn’t have been heard by someone who wasn’t on the first floor.

You look around a bit before your eyes land on a doorbell, and you wanted to smack yourself for being clueless before. You pressed it and only had to wait a couple of seconds before you saw a silhouette through the frosted glass and then the door opened. “Hey,” then there was that deep and all too attractive voice.

“Hi,” you manage to say back as you take in his tall form. The light behind him casted various shadows and made the details of his face harder to make out, but that didn’t stop you from trying. Just from the entryway you could tell this house was nicer than any place you had ever lived, and you were beginning to feel the smallest bit overwhelmed. “So, this is where you live?”

Clay laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he answers, dropping his hand again and moving to the side, gesturing for you to enter the house. “I hope you didn’t have a hard time finding it.”

His tone was teasing and you playfully rolled your eyes as you shrug off your cardigan. “I think the cab driver was about three seconds away from asking me to get out and find this place myself,”

He laughed again as he took your cardigan from you and set it on a chair next to the entryway table.

You took the time to look around the space and if this was how the front hall looked, you couldn’t even begin to imagine how the rest of the house looked. You were tempted to ask what he did for a living to be able to afford a place like this, but held off as he began to lead you up the stairs. “It’s good to see you again,” he says as he walks behind you. “Sorry to hear about the interview, I hope I didn’t make you late for it and that’s why it didn’t work out.”

Shrugging, you slide your hand up the railing as you near the top. “No, I was already late, and it was nice to talk to an actual person for a while rather than the middle aged woman who didn’t give me much of a chance to begin with,”

Clay laughed as he reached the top of the stairs as well. “Now I don’t feel so bad,”

“Don’t feel bad at all,” you wave him off as you take in the various family pictures that lined the wall. There was a photo of, who you could only assume was a young Clay, and beside that one was another of a kid. He looked like Clay, his eyes and hair color the exact same, but his features were mixed with someone else’s. Since he looked a lot like how Clay did at that age, you knew that had to be his son. “It gives me an excuse to meet the coolest kid in the city.”

Clay moves to stand next to you, his eyes fixated on the picture as well.

“Is that him?” You ask, but you were pretty sure you already knew the answer. When Clay nodded with a small grin, you fought off one of your own. “He’s cute. Looks a lot like you.” You clearly were not good at getting a hold of yourself, and you quickly straightened up after you realized what you had said.

His face tints pink from your words and he clears his throat as he looks at another picture of two people; a man in a Santa suit and a woman smiling next to him. Clay’s eyes hardened a bit as he began to back away. “Yeah, he’s pretty cute,” he agreed and you were beginning to think you said something wrong.

Then it hit you.

Was Clay married? Engaged? Dating someone?

You hated how your mind immediately went to assuming he was single and that’s why he needed a sitter. You felt dumb and a bit embarrassed at how quickly you let yourself take interest in this guy, despite this being a literal interview for a possible job right now.

No more.

“So,” you say and put a bit of distance between you and him. “Where is this kid? I’m dying to meet him and see if he lives up to his reputation.”

Clay quickly lightens up at that and he nods towards a doorway. “He’s eating dinner,”

You were then led into the dining room that was attached to the kitchen, and you had soon decided that this had to be the nicest house you had ever seen in your entire life. Even the houses you saw in movies didn’t live up to this place.

There was a dining room table and a kitchen table, how much more could you want?

Upon entering the dining room, you were met with the adorable sight of a little kid messily eating spaghetti. “Hi,” you say cheerfully when the boy meets your eyes. “You must be the coolest kid in New York.”

He smiles and drops his fork onto the plate when Clay enters the room as well, raising his short arms up towards his dad. “Say hi, buddy,”

“Hi,” he said back as Clay leaned down to kiss the top of his head.

You smile and feel your heart pretty much soar at the cute sight of the father and son who looked so much alike it was almost scary. “Hi,” you say again and step closer. “Does the coolest guy ever have a name? Or should I guess?”

The kid laughed and mirrored his dads smile. “Guess,”

You purse your lips and move lean on the table next to his chair. “Hmm, Zack?” You ask and he shakes his head. You hum again and try not to pay attention to the way Clay smiled at how you interacted with his son. “Bryson?”

“No,” he shakes his head again and picks up his fork. “One more guess.”

“Uh oh,” Clay murmurs, giving you a teasing look. “Better make it count.”

You swallow a bit harshly before taking your eyes off him. “Aaron?”

He gives you a messy smile and shakes his head once again. “Nope. I’m Joey,”

“Awh, no,” you sigh dramatically. “Wasn’t even close, was I?”

Joey laughs and gives a final head shake before looking past you and into the kitchen.

You turn and see a woman standing there with a confused and guarded expression on her face. She looked a lot like both Clay and Joey, and you were beginning to believe that everyone in this family had good genes.

You weren’t able to introduce yourself before Clay was moving to stand next to you. “Mother,” he greeted, making you glance up at him before smiling back down at Joey. “This is Y/n. She might be the sitter who looks after Joey when we’re at work.”

His mom straightens up at that, a brief look of shock crossing her face before she looks back at you. “Well, it’s nice to see my son take my advice for once,” she says in a calm voice.

You smile and take a step towards her. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs..?”

“Beresford,” she answers, giving you a half smile back. “Lilith Beresford. How did you happen to meet Clay?”

She sounded a bit hostile, but you didn’t want to make her unimpressed, so you just pushed away your worries and glanced back at Clay with an apprehensive look. The encouraging and kind grin he gave you helped only a little. “We met the other day,” you begin. “Yeah, I was actually on my way to a job interview and I got pretty lost. Clay saw me and gave me the right directions.”

Lilith nods and glances between you and Clay. “And how did that interview go?” She asked and crossed her arms.

Your smile falters a bit, not at all expecting her to ask that, and Clay didn’t expect it either. “Mother,” he laughed and it sounded a bit forced. “What does it matter how it went if she’s here now to potentially look after Joey?”

While you were glad he helped you out, you were beginning to feel a bit awkward, but then Joey gave you a crooked smile, and you realized that you actually wouldn’t mind babysitting him for a good portion of your day. “The interview went fine,” you answer her, meeting Clay’s eyes when he turns to look back at you. “But I realized pretty quickly that the job wasn’t for me. So that’s why I’m here. Your house is beautiful, Mrs. Beresford, and Joey seems like a really nice kid.”

Lilith’s face was a bit expressionless, and you thought you were about to be asked to leave, but she dropped her stiff stance and nodded. “He is quite the sweetheart,” she agrees and shares a look with Clay. It felt like they had their own wordless conversation with how intense their stares were, until she broke eye contact and looked back at you. “Like his dad.”

You nod and look down when you feel little fingers tug at your wrist. Joey had begun playing with your bracelet, his eyes flickering over each individual charm. “It’s pretty huh?” You ask and watch as he nods.

“Y/n, was it?” Lilith asks, making you quickly look back at her and nod. “Has Clay shown you the rest of the house?”

Clay moves to stand behind Joey’s chair. “I was getting to it,” he answered for you. “Just wanted to introduce her to him first.”

“I’ll take over,” she offered and left no room for a debate as she extended her arm out and gestured for you to follow her. “You look young. May I ask how old you are?”

You look back at Clay and Joey briefly before you were being escorted down the hall and back towards the stairs. “I’m twenty,”

“And you’ve graduated high school?” She asked as you and her walked past the family picture wall.

“Yes, I graduated two years ago,” you felt like this was more of an integration rather than an interview, but you were enjoying the house tour nonetheless. “High nineties.”

You weren’t sure why you wanted to impress her so badly, but here we are. You also weren’t sure why you thought telling her that you got good grades would help you get a babysitting job. She glances back at you as she stops at another archway. “And you know what to do in case of a medical emergency?”

“I’ve got my CPR certificate and took basic health classes all throughout school,”

Lilith nods. “This is the living room, where you’ll likely spend most of your time with Joey if you do end up being his sitter,” she didn’t sound too encouraging, but you were far too distracted at how nice the living room is to actually get offended. “So, you’re new to the city?”

She led you over to the second staircase. “Yes,” you say quietly as you ascend the stairs up to the third floor. “I just moved here a couple weeks ago. I’m from Hudson.”

“Wow, that’s quite the change,” this time she actually did sound a bit surprised and maybe even a little impressed, and you took that as a good sign. “You’ll get used to Brooklyn soon. There’s just a lot more people, and a lot more places.”

She stopped outside a closed door and turned back to face you. “Thanks for believing in me,” you joked and she smiled.

“This is Clay’s room, not that you’d ever be in there, unless you want to take on the task of cleaning it. My son can be a bit messy at times,” well now it felt like she was testing you.

God, you hope you can give her the response she is looking for. “I don’t mind cleaning or cooking or things like that,” you say slowly. “I learned how to take care of myself at a young age, so I’m kind of skilled in the kitchen. Trust me, Joey will be eating well whenever I’m here. If you and Clay believe I’m a good fit for it.”

She hummed, leading you further down the hall. “I don’t see why you wouldn’t be,” she says. “Smart, nice, supposedly good at cooking. I think Joey would love to have you around.”

You smile at that as she opens a door just a few feet down the hall from Clay’s room. “Thank you, Mrs. Beresford. I think Joey and I would have a lot of fun together,”

“Me too,” she agrees. “This is his room.”

Joey’s room did not look like a kid’s room at all. It was neat and tidy, with books and stuffed animals scattered about on the bed and dresser. The previous babysitting gig you had, the mom wouldn’t know how to keep the house clean if you paid her, and she was the one paying you. “How old is he?” You asked as you observed the clean room, your eyes landing on a framed picture of Clay and Joey on the wall next to the bed.

Clay looked a few years younger and Joey was just a baby, and it made you feel all warm inside as a deep blush took over your whole body. “He just turned four last month,” she answered.

“And what about his mom?”

Lilith turned to look at you, her eyes narrowing as she shut the door again. “She’s not in the picture and hasn’t been since Joey was only three months old,” was all she said as she walked further down the hall.

Yeah, you definitely asked one question too many with that one.

Still, you now felt bad at the fact that Joey hadn’t had a mother figure in his life at all. He seemed so sweet, who in their right mind would give that up? And that’s not even mentioning the fact that Clay was probably the nicest guy you had ever met, and he is a great dad from the few interactions you’ve seen between him and Joey.

While you wanted to know more, you bit your tongue and followed Lilith down the hall, not wanting to ruin the good thing you felt was brewing at the moment.

While his mother was one of the best people in his life, Lilith Beresford can be very overbearing at times.

Like right now.

Clay was supposed to be the one giving you the tour and getting to know more about you, but the second Lilith had seen him with a girl, she swooped in and took her away.

He wasn’t dumb, he knew what the look they shared before she whisked you away meant, and he knew she was just trying to look out for him, but it still didn’t change the fact that he had brought this upon himself, and he liked to think that he knew what he was doing.

As he watched his mother haul you down the hall, he sighed and sat down next to his son. “What do you think, Joe?” He murmured, reaching over and pushing Joey’s sand-colored hair away from his forehead. “She seems nice, huh?”

Joey nods and pushes away his plate of nearly finished spaghetti. “She’s pretty,”

Clay nodded before he could even realized that he was agreeing with his four year old kid about your looks. “She’s nice, though, bud,” he says as he grabs a napkin from off the center of the table and hands it to Joey. “Do you think you might like seeing her around here when me and grandma are away at work?”

“We can color together,” Joey nods and wipes away the sauce from his face.

“Yeah,” Clay laughs, taking the plate once Joey tossed the napkin on top of it. “You can.”

He reaches a hand out and helps Joey off the chair before heading towards the kitchen and setting the plate onto the counter next to the sink. “Can I watch a show?” Joey asks, hugging Clay’s leg as he gazes up at him.

“Sure, buddy,” he says as he turns the sink on and puts the plate in it. “I’ll come turn it on in a few minutes, okay?”

“Okay,”

Clay leans down and presses a noisy kiss to the top of his head before gently pushing him in the direction of the doorway. “Go wait in the living room. I’ll be in there soon,”

He watches as Joey runs on wobbly legs out of the kitchen, a small smile on his lips when he turns back around and begins to wash the dishes.

He wonders what part of the house you and his mom are in now. Did she show you his room? God, he hoped not. It was a mess and he really didn’t want to come off a slob.

The thought of him wanting to show you his room himself briefly flashed through his mind, but he quickly pushed it away.

As he drains the sink and sets the clean dishes aside, Clay finds himself liking the idea of having you around. He had only spoken to you a few times, but each conversation didn’t feel forced or awkward or uncomfortable. And he liked how sweet you are to his son, and how nice you are to his mom, despite her coming off as intimidating, even to him.

For the first time in a long time, he was thinking about someone else other than Sam.

As he dried his hands off and left the kitchen, he could hear the two of you walking around upstairs when he made his way to the living room. He really hoped his mother was taking it easy on you, seeing as she still wasn’t over the way his ex had completely broken his heart and left him without a second thought.

Lilith Beresford was more protective over his fragile heart than he is, and though that thought gave him comfort, he also knew it wasn’t fair to have her look out for him all the time.

But he also knew she would never stop.

He passed the staircase and entered the living room, where he found Joey sitting patiently on the couch. Clay couldn’t deny, his kid is so damn cute, he was so tempted to quit his job and stay home with him everyday until he grew old enough to think that spending time with his dad is lame.

Clay turns the TV on before sitting next to Joey, taking him in his arms and smothering his face with kisses. At that exact moment, both you and his mother descend the stairs and enter the living room just in time to see Joey laugh and try to escape his dad’s arms. “Grandma!” He calls out and Lilith smiles as she walks over to them.

“Don’t look at me for help, Joseph,” she teased as she leaned down and kissed him all over his face as well. “I’m just as bad as your father.”

Joey squealed as both Clay and Lilith smothered him with kisses. “Y/n!” He called out instead, and the way he mispronounces your name has Clay pulling away with a laugh.

He looked over and saw you with a big smile on your face, your body leaning against the frame and your arms crossed. “Sorry, Joey,” you shrug. “I think you’re outnumbered here.”

It was likely he didn’t really understand what you meant, but Joey laughed anyway and crawled over to sit on Lilith’s lap.

Clay moved to stand up, ruffling Joey’s hair as did so. “So?” He steps towards you. “Think you can handle the kid for a few hours a day?”

You purse your lips and he has to refrain from staring at them for too long. “I think I can manage,” you answer and match his grin as he closes the space between the two of you. “I should head home now, though.”

He nods and glances back at his mom and son. She gave him a look that had him quickly turning back around to you. “I’ll walk you out,” he offered and was about to leave the room when she called out to him.

“Clay, did you tell her about your-” she started but he quickly cut her off.

“No,” he answered and was about to tell her to drop it until she decided to let you know that he has a serious problem and is very slowly growing weaker by the day.

“Clay has a heart condition,” she informed you. “His heart isn’t as strong as he believes it to be. If you are to be around him a lot, you should know that.”

Clay huffed and closed his eyes as he let the feeling of embarrassment take over him. “Mother,”

Now he really looked weak in front of you. He looked incapable of taking care of both himself and his son.

“She needs to know, Clayton,” she insisted, smoothing out the mess he made of Joey’s hair before looking over his shoulder and at you. “It was nice meeting you, Y/n. I hope to see you again soon.”

“You too,” came your quiet reply, and when he finally looked over at you, your eyes were softer and held a hint of worry.

It had him sighing as he began to guide you out of the room, murmuring, “Come on,”

With his hand placed gently on the middle of your back, he led you back down the stairs and only removed it in order to hand you your cardigan.

You take it from him with a grateful smile as you make no move to leave. A silence falls over you, and it was surprisingly not as awkward as it should’ve been before you broke it. “Is it serious? Your heart condition?” You asked in a voice just above a whisper. “You don’t need to tell me, but it would be nice to know since I’ll be spending most of my nights with your kid.”

Clay’s eyes widened a bit at your words. “You still want to babysit him? Even after finding out his dad is sick and weak and an unfit parent?”

You shake your head quickly. “Having a heart condition doesn’t make you weak, Clay,” you reassure him in a whisper. “In fact, I think it makes you stronger. And as for the unfit parent thing, maybe give yourself a little credit here. Maybe it’s not my place to say this, but I think you’re doing a great job, and that kid is lucky to have you. Both of you.”

He had a hard time believing you were real.

There was just no way.

He had never been insecure about his heart until he met Sam. She made sure he was aware of how inconvenient it was to have a husband who couldn’t please her in all the ways she wanted, simply because his heart couldn’t keep up with the rest of his body half the time.

And that heart attack didn’t help his confidence, either.

And, just like that, he had managed to think about his ex before the day ended.

He needed to make it one day without thinking about her. How else will he ever move on?

“Thanks,” he said quietly and moved close to you in order to be able to pull the door open. “And thanks for coming over. Joey seems to like you already.”

“Well, that’s good,” you laugh and shrug your cardigan on. “‘Cause I like him, too.”

Clay smiles and leans against the open door. “Are you available tomorrow? I know it’s really soon, but-”

“I’m available,” you cut him off with a shake of your head. “Text me the info?”

He nods and moves over a bit as you step towards the door. “Get home safe,”

You grin at him. “I will,” you hover near the door for a few seconds as if you were having an inner debate with yourself, but before he could try to get a read on what it was about, you were moving past him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Clay, Or should I call you Mr. Beresford?”

“Please don’t,” he begged with a laugh. “Clay is fine.”

You nod and walk out onto the front steps. “Have a good night,”

“You too,” he says back and stays leaning against the door until you are safe and in the backseat of a cab. It was only then when he sent you off with a wave before closing the door and heading upstairs. He makes his way back into the living room and finds Joey half asleep on his mom, and his stare softens just a bit. “You shouldn’t have told her that.” He muttered as he walked over and picked Joey up.

“She’s going to be here a lot, Clay,” Lilith waves off his annoyed huff and stands up. “She should know what to expect if something were to happen to you.”

With Joey pressed to his side, Clay shakes his head and turns around. “I’m fine, alright? I don’t want her worrying about both me and Joey,” he mumbled as he faced her again. “Say goodnight to grandma, bud.”

“Night, grandma,” Joey sleepily says and Lilith comes over to press a kiss to both his and Clay’s cheeks before leading the way upstairs.

After getting Joey ready for bed and sitting with him until he fell asleep, Clay wandered into his room and sat down on his bed, his mind swirling with too many thoughts to count.

He’s got a reliable sitter now, and a nice one at that, so that is one less thing he had to worry about.

And now he’s thinking about you and your sweet smile and your kindness and your cute cardigan.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, quickly typing in a message and hitting send before he could change his mind.

Thanks again for coming over, and for what you said at the door. Are you able to pick Joey up from school tomorrow? I’ll send you the address. Let me know you got home safe, too.

And he wasn’t even able to strip out of his clothes and have a shower before you were texting him back.

Potential Sitter: Of course, I’m excited to get to know the little guy. And as for what I said, I meant every word. Yes, I’ll pick him up, and yes, I got home safe. Thanks for thinking of me.

For the second time this week, Clay was ending his day by smiling at his phone screen.

#clayton beresford #clay beresford x reader #clay beresford imagines #clayton beresford imagines #clayton beresford imagine #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen #hayden christensen gif #hayden christensen icons #hayden christensen edit #in the way i need you series #in the way i need you

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mikka-minns · 1 year ago

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Bi han's house is made of ice(i like to think that) so he gotta be extra carefull.

Meme template credit goes to @mortalkcmbat cuz i found the pic in their post

#mortal kombat #Frost #Bi han #Hanzo hasashi #Liu kang #Not even gods are safe #Frost should have just bullied elder gods into helping earthrealm #Pay Frost rent or else...

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laismoura-art · 1 year ago

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@mikka-minns Minnie, Minnie, Minnie look!

It's next month's rent money!

The moment he said "spoils of war" I knew exactly what he meant!🤣🤣

THATS IT, KUAI

THATS WHERE ONE-EYED WILLY BURIED HIS GOLD!!

#infecting yet another random post with this joke #y'all can't stop me #bi han #kuai liang #frost #Pay Frost rent or else...

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givethemsmut · 10 months ago

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Dom Mysterio x Reader

Chapter Two | Where it all started…

Shorter chapter incoming…

Expect some time jumps

Don’t own anything WWE 💪🏼

In no way, shape, or form do I edit. This story is for fun and entertainment purposes.

“Two days. Our flight is at 4 AM. Gives you time to dump the flavor of the week.” The bitterness in his voice hurt.

“Dom. What we did- I’m sorry. Every second felt amazing, I just couldn’t commit. I was scared.”

“I haven’t been pinning, hermosa. You moved on and so did I. No hard feelings.” He was distant still, cold and vicious.

I knew about the other girls. All of them. He had made it his mission to parade them in front of me. He wanted to make sure I knew he had gotten his dick wet after me.

“No hard feelings? Tell your slut of the month to keep it down this time.” I said walking past him in my bikini as I climbed out of the hot tub.

I wanted him to see every part of me he could. Dom followed me inside, dry as can be. “It’s not going to work, whatever bullshit you have planned. Parading around in practically nothing and rubbing your boyfriends in my face. It’s not going to make me feel bad.”

“Feel bad? We fucked, Dom. That’s not my fault you can’t get over it.” I shouted back.

“You’re a fucking bitch for that. You wanna play games? We’ll play. Don’t come crying to me when it finally hurts the same way you hurt me.”

We had taken one leap forward just to hustle back to cruel.

Dom had no idea there hadn’t been anyone else. No one. He just knew what it looked like and it looked like I was a slut but in reality those moans were faked and nothing went past feeling me up.

I deserved his cruelty tho so I took it like a champ.

Rey had got us a two bedroom condo only this time we didn’t share a bathroom. Dominik was kicking off training and everything WWE the very next day.

The frost melted between us enough for us to eat pizza in our mess of boxes. I wanted to badly to apologize but nothing could take back how I broke him heart.

Eventually we got over it, slowly and started being friends again. I even went to his practice matches and training sessions to support him. Our hormones and not having to share a bathroom truly helped, suddenly we could deal with that tension much easier.

I got meaningless jobs, here and there. Enough to pay for living, rent if Rey would ever take it from me, which he declined more than once. Every penny I had went to stocking the fridge for Dom who was eating his body weight in food with the training burning extra calories.

We got extremely close again, inseparable most days and boundaries of friendship that made people uncomfortable. It made relationships hard to have and harder to keep. We both went through a period of less serious relationships with minimal risk to our friendship again.

We did have one slip up our twenties after getting drunk. None of it planned and all of it something that didn’t please his fling of the month.

It was Randy Orton’s birthday, something we never thought we would be invited to but a lot of the roster was so we went. Dom hardly knew anyone and I was just as invisible, only I had boobs that distracted everyone. Least the horny men traveling almost the whole year. No one expected Dom to have anyone with him. He was new, inexperienced, and hadn’t paid any dues in their eyes. It was bullshit. He was the hardest working man I knew who wasn’t letting his dad’s legacy determine anything for him. If I could do anything it was making people believe he was someone before they knew him.

I put in a skin tight dress, a black thong and jean jacket that all fit every curve of my body perfect. Linking arms with Dom I could feel the respect climb the more people saw my hand in his. “Just trust me, okay? You’re gonna leave this party a superstar.”

“Why am I scared right now?” He laughed and smiled but held me closer.

Laughing into his chest I handed the bouncer our invite and breezed by without stopping. That was the night I met Randy, who was married still and raising a toddler. I had no business entertaining his flirting. I had no business letting myself be turned on by the entire night enough to convince Dom to fuck me for the second time.

The head of WWE made his way over to us, extending his hand and introducing himself. “Vince, who are you son?”

I stepped in, “Dominick Mysterio, future of WWE, respectfully.”

Vince laughed placing his hand on my arm and I was prepared to valid every rumor if it meant Dom’s hard work was paying off. “You have balls.”

“Enough to convince you to see what he can do? He’s not his dad, he’s better.”

Dominik’s hands smoothed around my waist, nuzzling his face in my hair, finding my ear. “Mi amore, he’s the owner. Slow down.”

“No one is gonna hand you anything, Dom. You have to want it enough to take it.”

I smiled, forcing him to talk shop when his hand smoothed down my ass before squeezing. “Remember that later.”

Dom was a flirt, a great talker, dedicated to making it in the same industry his dad did. I was proud of him.

Talking him up to everyone I let him touch me like I was his at least for the night. When we went back to our condo it was hard to turn it off when he cradled my hips asking me, “Why do you believe in me so much?”

“Because I know you. No more deserves it more.”

The way his mouth covered mine, determined to take me right along with his dreams felt out of my control. I wanted him even tho I shouldn’t have.

Yanking my dress up to my waits he dipped down to his knee in the middle of the living room. Draping my leg over his shoulder I whimpered in desperation. “Dom. We shouldn’t.”

“Don’t say it. I already know. It’s a mistake. No one finds their soul mate at fourteen. I’ve heard it. I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m asking you to fuck my tongue.”

That’s all he had to say for me to melt and make that mistake all over again.

#wwe fanfiction #wwe #dom mysterio #dominik mysterio #dom Mysterio fanfic #Dominik Mysterio fanfic #fanfic

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katyawriteswhump · 1 year ago

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Home to you (Platonic Stobin Day fic)

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles, Day 17, Platonic Stobin. A year or so after the events of S4, Steve and Robin both struggle to get on with life. They had NOT planned in any way to spend Christmas together…

WC: 984. Rating: T.

CW: None (except only a small Steddie subtext in this one!) Tags: Chronic pain, OCD, platonic soul mates.

***

Steve had just gotten through the kitchen door—Wham’s ‘Last Christmas’ blasting in his ears—when his boss got right in his face.

“You’re fired, Harrington.”

“Come on, man, no way.”

“You’re late. Again. You sleep through your alarm. When the order bell goes off, you sit and chill, like you don't freakin' hear.”

Oh, I hear, dipshit.

Your crappy bell sets off a stabbing pain between my eyes, and I’m blacking out, or shitting myself I’m having a stroke. So, yeah, I take a moment. I’m still your best waiter, plus it’s Christmas Eve!

He didn’t say it. Wished he had.

Ten minutes later, he was out on the snowy street, half-a-week’s pay in his pocket. Not enough to settle his rent. He was jobless, verging on homeless, out of meds. Yeah, he knew where he wanted to go. Christ, he missed her, but…

He sucked it up, called his mom: “Not working after all. I’ll be home tonight.”

“That’s… lovely. I’m afraid Aunt Lobelia has your room, and the couch is taken—”

“Wow. Can I go in the stable with the donkey?”

“Very droll, darling. For Christmas Eve nibbles, it’s the carparking we’re really concerned about.”

Carparking? Hilarious! He'd sold his car to pay medical bills. That was gonna be a fun conversation with his Dad.

In the queue at the bus depot, the fumes worsened his headache. He sat cross-legged on the ground, his face in his hands, spiralling deeper toward despair.

He heard mutters: “Is that guy drunk?”

Hilarious! Again! Like I could touch alcohol these days.

He wanted to punch somebody. That ache of loneliness settled in his guts, panged tightly in his chest.

Screw them.

He got on a Greyhound in the wrong direction. It sure felt like the right one to him.

***

She found him sitting on the steps of her dark university halls, curled forward with his arms around his knees. He was actually wearing that ghastly overlong scarf she knitted.

“Steve?” She wanted to blub, her rush of emotion kinda overwhelming. “Thought you were working Christmas, too?”

He looked up, groggily, started to rise. Two seconds later, they were in each other's arms.

“You're freezing,” she murmured, her cheek tucking against his scarf.

“Back at ya. There’s, like, frost on your stupid, crocheted bobble.” She hugged him a little tighter and took him inside. Beneath his jacket, he wore the ‘lame-ass’ sweater she knitted for him too.

They sat on her bed, sharing a tube of prawn cocktail Doritos. Everything pent up inside her burst free:

“My waitressing gig is the worst. Next a-hole who grabs my butt is gonna get slapped silly. Talk about objectification—it’s a billion times worse than Scoops.”

She noisily crunched a Dorito; he crunched one, too: God, I miss working together. I miss you so much.

“I’m totally behind on my college work. Nobody else gets it, because they, like, have money, and go home for Christmas, but my mom’s not talking to me, and—”

She paused for another crunch. They shared the last Dorito. He sank heavily against her shoulder, and before she knew it, she’d gotten his head in her lap.

I hate touching people, having them touch me. Then there’s you. Something else she didn’t need to say.

“It’s spookily quiet here, Steve, with the other students gone. I end up, like, checking every window and door a thousand times, because if it's spooky, there’s gonna be spooks, right? Or other supernatural shit, because after what we’ve seen, nothing can be ruled out, and don’t get me started on what I do when the lightbulbs flicker… uh, Steve? You okay? Too much prattling?”

“I’m with the spooks,” he mumbled. “Hot for the quiet. Though you’re not making my head any worse, so shoot.”

Nope. She’s done. With Steve, she can have this thing called comfortable silence.

She stroked his hair; it’s still damp, but they’re warming up, snuggled together. She skittered fingers across his brow, down his cheek. His face is toasty hot.

“Your fingers stink of prawns.” His snicker tugged her lips into a smile.

“You can talk, Mr Dorito-breath. I’ll wash.”

“Come straight back—you’re helping. Best treatment I got, till I can bag more opioids.”

She turned on the faucet, wanted to scream: I hate how nobody cares about your pain. I hate the price you paid for helping others, saving lives. You never ask for help. Why can’t anybody see? And then there’s Eddie. Healing all alone, while living on the run...

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, when they’re settled back as they were.

“What the hell for?” He slid his hand under his cheek, taking some weight off her knee.

“Oh… nothing. I guess, it was… nothing.”

“You think about Eddie much?” He tugged that smile from her again, this time blurred with tears. Brain-share, huh?

“Only every single day.”

“Yeeeah. Me too.” He unleashed a long, shuddering sigh. “He called last month. I'd drop everything and run to him, if he just... said the word."

"Did YOU say the word yet?"

A faint harrumph.

"If you never tell Eddie how you feel, Dingus—"

"Hey, is it midnight yet?”

“Yeah." She shook her head, lovingly. "Merry Christmas, Steve.”

“Merry… Christmmm…”

He sighed again, long and slow. She sensed immediately that he’d fallen asleep.

That night, she only checked the windows and doors twice.

***

It was great to wake without an alarm piercing his skull. Without that grind of loneliness in his gut.

They’d squished into the single bed. He’d gotten most of the pillow, and she’d hogged most of the blanket. His head hurt less, and Robin’s soft snores had to be one of the few sounds in the world that didn’t bug him.

Okay, they grated a bit. He was still stupidly relieved to be here.

He curled up behind her, spooning like a pair of furry sloths, and went back to sleep.

#platonic soulmates stobin #platonic stobin #stobin fic #stobin friendship #steve and robin #steddieholidaydrabbles #steve harrington whump #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington hurt/comfort

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interestinglittlerelationship · 8 months ago

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For the word game— cold for jatp and/or Gilmore girls?

I didn’t have anything for this so it took me a little while to figure out where it might work! Thanks for the ask!

The chill is bone deep, it seeps through his jacket, though his shirt, through his skin, until it’s all he can feel. He can’t remember ever being this cold.

And Jess is a street kid from New York City, he knows cold nights, knows the hallow feeling of an empty stomach, knows the desperation of having nowhere to go. This isn’t the first time he’s slept in a car, that was the winter he was eight and Liz forgot to pay the rent.

But it’s worse somehow, with the diner twenty feet away, where he knows there’s a warm bed and food and an uncle who, even after everything, Jess is almost certain wouldn’t turn him away, 99.9% certain in fact.

But it’s the lingering 0.1% that stops him from climbing those front steps, that tingling doubt that Luke might be just about ready to give up on him, just like everyone else had, just like he probably deserves.

And that’s what he’s thinking when someone knocks on the car window.

Jess startles, peering through the frosted over glass. Not someone, Luke, because who else would care if Jess froze to death out here.

“Come inside, kid,” Luke says gruffly when Jess has finished cranking down the window a few inches, “No reason to waste a perfectly good bed.”

Send me a word and a fandom and I'll send you a passage where it appears in my WIPs. If I don't have that word anywhere, I'll write something new!

#send me asks #wip #gilmore girls #ao3 writer

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laismoura-art · 1 year ago

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If you listen closely you can hear Bi-Han’s desperate screams cause rent day is fast approaching and he doesn’t have the money yet :')

Meow Liang is here for emotional support!💛

@mikka-minns

Meow Liang

p.s He's in Bi han's house

#HA! you THOUGHT i was done infecting posts with the rent joke!#pay frost rent or else...#kuai liang #bi han

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elevatorladylady · 2 years ago

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Critical Reread - ACOFAS Chapter 20

Join me on a reread of A Court of Frost and Starlight.

Chapter 20 - F/eyre

Nesta shows up to Solstice. The gang finishes opening gifts.

“a set of embroidered blue towels—with his initials”

I wanna know what Az’s initials actually are.

“a blush creeping over his cheeks, his hazel eyes fixed on her. I looked away at the heat, the yearning that filled them.”

Why does she have to make Az such a creep? If we really keep all of the Az/Mor stuff in mind, it paints a picture of great discomfort for Mor (especially since she’s not out to the group). This wonderful found family is actually a space where Mor has to put up with Az and stay closeted from the rest of them.

“I went into that bookshop.”

I guess if they have toilets they have bookshops. I’d be really curious to know more about the whole publishing process in a secret city.

”You know the one by the theater?”

I feel like going to the theater or symphony would be more Nesta’s speed than dirty taverns.

“He held up a pair of what seemed to be red silk undershorts. The perfect match to her negligee.”

It’s way worse that she asked for something to match what he got her. I still put most of this on Mor, but clearly Cassian has no boundaries for Mor and that has to change for him to be open to a relationship with someone else.

“a specially designed folding carrier for her puzzles.”

Does anyone actually want to travel with their puzzles?

“None of them explained what the paintings meant, what they beheld. But each of them kissed me on the cheek in thanks.”

It’s just so funny to picture her giving them really bad art work instead of actual gifts.

“Nothing from Nesta, but I didn’t care. Not one bit.”

A. Did Nesta even know they were supposed to exchange gifts? F/eyre still barely knows anything about Solstice traditions. B. F/eyre didn’t get anything for Nesta, so why would she expect anything from Nesta? C. It’s rude to invite someone to a gift giving event, not tell them about the gift giving part of the event, and not get them a gift when nearly everyone else got one. (I’ll let Varian slide since he’s more of a plus one)

“I gave him me—as no one but him would ever see me. No one but him would ever understand.”

I can’t imagine giving a gift that’s basically a self portrait. It works though.

“Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy.”

Or she just feels uncomfortable around anything to do with Lucien?

“Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous.”

I don’t hate Elriel.

“For a moment, I prayed she wouldn’t take it. That she would tell me to tear it up. But Nesta’s lips only tightened, her fingers unwavering as she took the money.”

I mean she does rely on them financially. What else is she gonna do? Not pay her rent to make F/eyre feel better.

#sjm critical #anti sjm #ell reads #ell reads ACOFAS

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stray-kids-react · 4 years ago

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Same birthday as them

Masterlist

...

Bang Chan

° Is the type to reschedule his own birthday so it could just be your day, but you will refuse his kind suggestions because you'd feel awful if you made it look like his birthday was just brushed aside like it's nothing.

° Let's you blow out the candles on the cake, smiling at you like a lovesick puppy which always makes Minho do obnoxious gagging noises as the other members join him and laugh. But Chan gets revenge on them, with frosting attacks.

° Gives the price with the candle in it, and will scoop up dollops of icing onto your piece of cake if you like frosting. And if you aren't a fan of frosting then he will steal the large amounts on your piece and put on his own piece.

° Always.. And I mean ALWAYS. Writes you birthday cards that make you cry, because he uses such kind words and makes you feel very special. Hyunjin will awkwardly pat your head as Felix clings to you like a koala.

"What words do you out in the letters to make her/him cry?" Hyunjin asked.

"Just the truth from my heart."

"Hyung she's/he's crying even harder now." Felix whispered, grabbing napkins.

Lee Know

° It always ends up going the complete opposite way you guys planned on spending your shared birthday. You both planned on going to a hotel to spend a few days away from everyone and everything, and now you were Camping with skz.

° Let's you open your presents first, secretly eager for you to open the one he bought you. And will laugh in the member's faces, bragging about how he always buys the best gifts for you. He says it's because you share one brain.

° Tries to play the birthday boy card with you, saying 'baby since it's my birthday can you get a drink?' and you always remind him that it's your birthday too so you shouldn't have to do favors on your birthday unless you want to.

° Will poke frosting onto your lips before kissing it away, making all of the members react in disgust and cringe. Even though you both know they are happy you two are together, but they are still like family and will tease both of you.

"Get a room." Seungmin whined.

"It's our birthday, every room is our room."

"Felix get the water guns." Changbin ordered, preparing for battle.

Changbin (our birthday boi! ❤️🎂)

° Very clingy, even though it's your birthday as well he will want to be babied as much as he can get. He'll baby you to return the favor, but please just cuddle him all day to make his birthday wishes come to life.

° Takes you out to a restaurant with no members, just the two of you dining together. He will insist on wearing party hats to the very fancy restaurant, getting weird looks from the posh and frugal diners that surround you.

° Even though he is sited earlier on being babied, whenever you suggest that you can help pay for the meal he always denies it and pays fully. And when whine asking why he's spoiling you, he explains that it's your birthday, you deserve it.

° Will rent out a hotel room on the top floor, taking a few selfies with you to post on instagram, captioning a long rant about how he feels so special to have met such a wonderful person who shares his birthday.

"You don't have to pay Binnie, we can go half-"

"I insist, it's your birthday you deserve it."

"But it's your birthday too."

Hyunjin

° He shows you off 10× harder than he usually does, you simply did his hair in the morning cause you wanted to. And she showed it off to all of the members, staff, and fans who were watching the stray kids daily vlogs.

° The members will purposely celebrate you more for the first half of the day, just to annoy Hyunjin. But they always soften up and congratulate him too, making him go back to his usual confident prince aura.

° Wants kisses 24/7, and will become pouty if you deny any of them. Always whining, saying that it's his birthday wish to kiss you. That sentence alone always makes you cave in and kiss his adorable pout away.

° Will read your letters for you while you open the gifts, when it comes time to open his gifts you will return the favor and read the letters. Once he reaches your gift, without even opening it he will say it's his favorite gift out of them all.

"Now for the best gift of the night."

"But you haven't even opened it yet."

"I just know it is the best."

Han

° Wakes you up with a birthday song, forcing his members to sing it with him and dance to it. The only ones who truly get into the song are Chanbin and Felix. You were a bit surprised to see all eight guys surrounding your bed.

° Will set a cute date in the JYP café, sharing your favorite pastry and his favorite pastry with each other. You two hoped to be left alone, but some fans decided to visit the café and give Han this huge cake while ignoring you.

° After Jisung began to notice more fans surrounding the building, he decided to take you back to the dorms where you could finish your pastries and drinks there. Even though it wasn't as 'romantic' it was still nice and calming.

° You both just have a relaxing time together alone, watching you favorite movies and ordering your favorite foods and drinks. Only going to socialize with everyone else when Chan calls for both of you to open the gifts.

"Happy birthday Han oppa, we love you more than anyone else in the world."

"Oh, thank you so much. Umm we actually should get going."

"OMG IS THAT HAN JISUNG OVER THERE?!"

Felix

° You tell Felix every year to not just focus on you, but he truly just can't help himself. Which is why you woke up to a loud clang in the kitchen, to find your boyfriend baking you a birthday cake at 4 in the morning.

° You were about to scold him for trying to spoil you, but he just passes you a spoon with some of the icing and batter on it. You can't stay annoyed with you angel of a boyfriend, especially when you remind yourself that it's his birthday too.

° The reason you tell him to not focus on you, is because if you don't tell him that. He will go overboard, and spoil you more than a Kardashian. Which sometimes makes you feel bad for not spoiling him just as much.

° You both facetime your families together, opening up your presents in front of them and the members. Your mom is crying the whole time because she can't get over how happy you look and how you got with such a nice guy.

"I've never seen my baby look so happy."

"Aww, you are extra smiley around me."

"Can you please just open the gift." Changbin sighs playfully, waiting ten minutes over you two gushing over each other.

Seungmin

° You struggle whenever it comes to buying gifts for Seungmin, just because he is so calm around you and always tells you that he doesn't care what you buy him as long as it's from you. He'll even say he doesn't need gifts.

° He's such a sweet boyfriend so you always want to spoil him, but he always manages to get a more heart wrenching gift than you do. Which is now why you are hunting down different stores with Hyunjin, who hasn't bought him a gift yet.

° You both rush towards the music store, when you bump into Seungmin. He is holding a couple bags full of stuff, and he can't help but smile brightly when he runs into you. Knowing exactly why you two are shopping.

° Hyunjin tries to take a peak at the bags to see if he could get any ideas from them, but Seungmin moves them away as he places a small peck to your nose before leaving the store. Making you lost with questions as to what he got you.

"Seungmin! Hi... W-what are you doing here?"

"Getting your presents ready."

"He's always ahead of the game y/n, I swear."

Jeongin

° You both have a whole birthday week, giving each other small little gifts like candy and chocolates before the big day finally arrives. And that's when the members create this huge party for you two, going all out because they are whipped.

° You and Jeongin will steal some of the balloons and keep them in your room to play around with, playing balloon volleyball with each other when neither of you can get to sleep. He always wins because he slaps the balloon so harshly.

° Will have one last dance alone with you after the party. Both of you in your pajamas in his room as you sway back and forth to a soft slow song. You can hear him humming to song against your shoulder.

° During the party, he made the mistake of pulling you in for feverish kiss. Making Itzy, Twice, Day6, Ateez, TxT, Btob, and Ofcourse Stray Kids all start Hollering. You've never witnessed Jeongin blush so harshly before.

"Get it Jeongin!" Han yelled, making Chan slap his arm.

"They're all staring at us."

"That's because you attempted to French kiss me in the middle of the dance floor."

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sleepyweepypeaches · 3 years ago

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—————————————————

Hawks | Striper

Hawks x Striper reader

| Fluff ☁️ | Head cannon-fic 📌 |

—————————————————

☁️There was gossip going around that some villains had been hanging out at the club you worked at. It wasn't a big deal till the club owner was introducing number two hero Hawks to you.

☁️He explained to you that the villains had a large public presence and needed to be contained qiutley. The villains happened to be some of your regulars. So Hawks came up with a plan. You would invite them into a back room and he and some of his sidekicks would follow behind and arrest them.

☁️Hawks could see that you were a little frightened. He crouched down in front of where you were sitting and gently took one of your hands in his. “I’ll be right behind you the whole time. I won't let them put a finger on you Y/n. I promise.”

☁️The evening of the arrest. Hawks visited you before the club opened. Making sure you were doing alright and you remembered the plan.

☁️Later that night you approached the villains after a show. Offering to give them a ‘tour of the back rooms’. You were very captivating with your transparent lingerie and demeanor. The villains were more than willing to oblige.

☁️As you led them to the back rooms you felt little feathers brush up against your fingers. Reminding you that you were safe and Hawks were right behind you.

☁️They followed you into the room one by one. Only a minute had passed before Hawks and his sidekicks came in behind them. One of the villains went to grab at you in an attempt to take a hostage. But Hawks was to fast for him. Grabbing you by the shoulders and leading you out the room while his sidekicks took care of the villains.

☁️“Are you okay?” He asked, concerned. A feather from his wings flying off down the hallway. “Yes, I'm fine. Thank you.” As you say this his feather comes flying back carrying your robe from the changing room. Hawks takes the robe and drapes it around you. “Of course, I'm a hero! It's my job to keep people safe. Are you sure you're okay? You look a little spooked.” Hawks looked at you concerned. “I'm kinda freaked out but I'll be okay. I appreciate the concern.” Hawks give you a sweet smile and walked you to the dressing room. He thanked you for the help, talked to the owner of the club and made sure you get a couple days off. And left with his sidekicks and the villains.

☁️You gladly took those days off. When you got back to work there were some flowers there waiting for you.

☁️ -Just wanted to thank you again for your help. I didn't think it was fair that we put you through all that trouble and the commission didn’t give you a reward. So I thought I'd take up the task. ;) - Love your favorite Pro hero -

☁️Was written on a card attached to a visa next to your flowers.

☁️One of the other stripers came up behind you

☁️“Hay Y/n?”

☁️“Ya?”

☁️“Did you get sent flowers and a one-thousond dollar visa from fucking Hawks.”

☁️“I think so? Can you pay rent with a visa?”

☁️“I think you can!”

☁️Rent? Paid 😌✨

☁️Flowers? Dead in two week but the gesture is still appreciated 😌✨

☁️A couple months later you turn on the news to find one of the villains you helped get arrested had somehow broken out of prison. You feel your stomach chern. Worried about going to work. But you knew the club’s owner didn't give a shit and you need the money.

☁️Getting ready in the dressing room. There's a loud knock at the door. Everyone turns around to see hawks standing outside the doorway. With his face looking down and eyes glancing at you. Everyone immediately turns and looks at you smiling. You rolled your eyes at them. After he sent you those flowers and visa everyone was gossiping about Hawks being your sugar daddy.

☁️“Hawks?” Hawks look up. He flashes a smile before his expression worsens. “Hay Y/n, I'm guessing you heard about the villain already. When I got the news the first person I thought about was you and I got worried. He might come back here, but I don’t know. Is it okay if I stay and scope out the place for a couple nights. Just to make sure you're safe.”. “Ya, of course. I was actually kinda nervous to come into work. But now I feel a lot better!” You smiled at him. “I'm glad. You know, we really gotta stop meeting like this.” He winked at you. You laughed.

☁️The past two nights were the same. You would do your shows, count your money, go home. Hawks would walk you to your car every night. It was nice, he made you feel safe. You told him that, instead of saying “that's what heroes do.” He took it to heart. “It makes me really happy to know that.” He smiles at you.

☁️The next day he wasn't there. You were jumpy the whole night. Wondering ware Hawks was. If they found the villain all ready. Or if Hawks just got bored waiting around and went to look for the villain himself.

☁️He was back the day after. “I’m sorry. I had some other villain business I really needed to take care of. I had three of my side kicks here last night though. You know I’d never leave you hanging!”

☁️The seventh day, nothing interesting was happening. It was crowded and sweaty like every other night. Hawks was sitting in between the front door and the way to the dressing room like he always did, Then.

☁️A gunshot went off. The bang pierced through the music. A bullet ricocheted off your pole. You let out a yelp as you slammed to the floor. You stayed down on the floor covering your face. People started to panic, moving out of the way and rushing out the door. Hawks flew over to you as fast as he could. Holding you close to his chest and wrapping his wings around you. He sent some large feathers flying through the club. He quickly found the villain. His feathers sliced his hand disarming him and pinning him to the ground. Hawks sidekick ran to restrain the villain. Hawks picks you up and brings you to the back away from the comoshin.

☁️He frantically checked your body for any injuries or blood. ‘Are you okay?! Are you hurt?!”. There was no blood, no injuries. But you were shaking with tears rolling down your face. You just got shot at, of course you're terrified. Hawks takes a deep breath.“ Its okay. I’ve got you, you're going to be okay. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you.” He holds you close and rubs your arms trying to comfort you. You can't help but wrap your arms around him, needing comfort. Then you felt them. The little feathers that tickled your hand when you first got nervous around those villains. You were able to catch your breath and come down. But you were most definitely not okay.That was such a close call you could have died.

☁️Once you stopped crying Hawks wrapped your robe around you. “Y/n, Are you okay?” He asked you quietly. “You know, we really gotta stop meeting like this. Next time you ask a favor of me it better be to get coffee! Because I'm never helping you with anything else ever again.” You laughed. Hawks laughs “Understandable, I might just do that!” He feels absolutely terrible. He will never not think about what happened that night.

☁️Ya’ll went for coffee and actually hit it off

☁️You’ll start going on coffee runs together whenever you can

☁️Watch so happens to be three in the morning

☁️You’ll be the only two in the shop sitting in a corner. Talking about work.

☁️Hawks loves to hear the gossip that goes around the club.

☁️And you love to hear the hero gossip.

☁️It was a cute little twenty-four hour coffee shop. With low warm lights. And little plants and flowers everywhere. The air smells like a mix of vanilla coffee and oranges. It was really sweet and peaceful.

☁️You and Hawks started becoming really good friends.

☁️But once winter came, something in Hawks changed.

☁️The air was cold. The ground outside was frosted over as little white flurys fell from the sky. You sat in front of a frosted window that was decorated in Periwinkle and baby’s breath. Behind the frosted window were gold holiday lights that glowed brightly.

☁️Your hair was fluffy from the shower you took before leaving work. Your eyes sparkled the reflection of holiday lights from around the shop. You were in a cozy sweater holding your coffee up to your mouth with both hands wrapped around it. Your lips blowing on it gently. Your cheeks were blushed from the cold weather outside.

☁️He wanted to kiss you so bad.

☁️But he couldn’t, so he just sat there and listened to you talk. Like he always does.

☁️After a long while. You paid for your coffees and left.

☁️You two stopped at an empty crosswalk. Even though there wasn't a single person around in that sleepy city, you still waited. Taking it slow and enjoying your time together.

☁️You breathed in the cool crisp air. Looking over at Hawks. He looked tired, but happy. The holiday and street lights behind him blurred as you focused on only him. Snow flurries caught in his hair and eyelashes. His eyes glowed gold against the streetlights. He wore a brown jacket lined with white fur and a dusty red henley sweater. Warm air escaped his soft lips in a white cloud. And his cheeks and nose were pink from the cold weather.

☁️You wanted to kiss him so bad.

☁️“Hey,” You said.

☁️“Ya?’ He asked in return.

☁️You step in front of him. Bringing your face to his. He didn't back away. So you held his face. His lips parted slightly and he took a deep breath in. And you kissed him.

☁️It felt so gentle and natural. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him.

☁️He almost said ‘I love you’ because he really does. You've captivated every bit of his mind and heart.

☁️When you two start dating he's so excited and supportive.

☁️He doesn't come to the club. Not after what he put you through there.

☁️But he doesn't need to go to the club, he can have all the private shows and more back at home 😌

☁️He really likes your classy lingerie, he thinks it makes you look like royalty.

☁️Insets on massaging your sore muscles even tho his are just as sore

☁️Kisses your bruises

☁️Work related?

☁️Kiss

☁️Keigo related?

☁️Kiss

☁️“Is this one from work or me???”

☁️“Work”

☁️“Oh” 🥺

☁️Kiss

☁️“This one from work?”

☁️“No that’s from you”

☁️“Oh shit, sorry love” 😳

☁️Two kisses

☁️He’s very supportive of you. Sex work is just as valid and inportent as anyother job.

☁️I don’t know why but he's very good at sewing so he helps sew up any outfits you accidently ripped.

☁️He thinks you're so talented in everything you do.

☁️You have some muscles that he doesn't even have and he thinks it amazing.

☁️He’ll marvel at you all day if he could.

☁️You're beautiful and sexy and strong. And he's always going to be undoubtedly, blissfully, in love with you.

—————————————————

#my hero academia #bnha #bnha x reader #hawks #hawksbnha #hawks x you #x reader #Striper #Striper reader #bnha hcs #hc fic #fluff headcanons

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kythed · 4 years ago

Text

cold war

semi eita x reader

synopsis: how many degrees does it take to melt semi eita? (ficmas day 2!)

“Why would you ever apply for a job at an ice rink,” he says, tone thickly frosted with annoyance, “if you can’t even skate?”

You blink up at your co-worker from the ice, the seat of your pants growing uncomfortably damp. Giggling children and lovesick couples glide by, all far more proficient skaters than you are. You offer the boy standing above you sheepish smile. “It just pays better than babysitting, I guess.”

He doesn’t laugh, just exhales heavily through his nose and hoists you up by the forearm with an unnecessarily harsh grip.

“Ouch,” you say indignantly, but the complaint dies on your lips when he shoots you a glare steely enough to slice through marble. Though the obvious irritation clouding his angular features renders you unable to fully appreciate his good looks, he’s the definition of severe beauty, all fair tousled hair and slate grey eyes.

“Learn how. Or else.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and effortlessly skates away to go rescue a toddler hanging onto the edge of the rink, crying for her mother. You watch as he lifts her up gently and sets her on her feet with an affectionate pat on the head. Then, almost as if he can feel you staring, he whips around and narrows his eyes with an expression that sends a chill down your spine.

You frown, but the pout swiftly turns into a scheming smile.

Semi Eita is cold. But not so cold he can’t be melted.

Operation Melt Semi starts small. The next day, you get to the rink early and wait for him to arrive. When he walks through the door, shrugging off his heavy parka, you sidle up to him and offer him a cheery “Morning, Semi!” along with a beaming grin.

“Morning,” he says, not even sparing you a glance as he ducks into the men’s lockers. Your face falls. Damn it. This might be a little harder than you’d previously anticipated.

You try again that Friday when you catch him in the coat room while you’re both sitting on the bench and changing into your skates. He knots his laces almost aggressively, pulling them so tight they cut angry red lines across his palms.

“Your hair looks good like that,” you say tentatively. It’s parted down the middle today, and it really does suit him. “Very nineties.”

Semi gives you an incredulous look before briefly glancing into a reflective window. He turns back, reaches into his pocket, and unwraps a piece of gum without offering you one. You bristle with annoyance but keep the sunny smile plastered across your face-- your cheeks are beginning to numb.

“Was that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Um, yeah, kinda.” You cringe inwardly when your voice cracks.

“Gross,” he says, jumping up and leaving you to struggle with your laces. You sigh and slump down. Bastard.

On Saturday, however, and every day you see him after that, he has his hair parted down the middle. He doesn’t mention it again, and neither do you, but you do feel a small sense of victory every time he runs a careful hand through his silvery locks, setting them in place after lapping the rink.

A couple weeks later, you’ve just gotten off your morning shift, a little bruised and battered (both physically and emotionally). Semi had still been forced to save you from the cruel, slippery ice a couple times, of course, so you’d taken the opportunity to thank him profusely, and you swear you saw the corners of his mouth twitch as he pulled you up once. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

“Hey,” you say, poking your head into the break room. Semi and a couple of other rink attendants look up from their phones. “Anyone want a coffee? I’m gonna make a run to the nearest Starbucks for a latte.”

“No,” Semi says automatically, face blank, and you roll your eyes internally. Of course he’d decline. As your other co-workers rattle off their orders (one small caramel mocha, one earl grey tea), you resolve to buy him a drink anyways.

If I were an annoyingly attractive asshole, you muse, squinting your eyes at the Starbucks menu ten minutes later, what would I order?

When you return to the rink, breathless and bearing a heavily laden, flimsy cardboard tray, you thrust a steaming paper cup of coffee into Semi’s hand. He stares at you, face painted with something resembling surprise.

“I said I didn’t want anything,” he says, taking the lid off to skeptically peer inside. He glances up at you.“Is this a blonde roast?”

“Yup,” you say, popping the ‘p’ obnoxiously. It’s all you can do to keep the smug grin off your face as Semi inhales the mellow, milky bitterness, letting the steam curl onto his face in the cold ice rink air.

“How did you kno--”

“I could just tell,” you hum, plopping down on the couch as you take a long drink of your own latte. The vanilla syrup generously pumped inside is almost as sweetly gratifying as the bewildered expression on Semi’s face. He just shakes his head, still staring at the cup in his hand.

“Well, how much was it? I’m paying you back.”

“It’s on me,” you say casually, smiling serenely at the way his mouth opens and closes like a shocked goldfish. “Don’t worry about it.”

Semi doesn’t respond as he sets the coffee down on the table, but later you see him sipping on it while he plays some little puzzle game on his phone. Mission accomplished.

You’re the last one to leave the rink that day, so you lock up and double check each door before skipping into the coat room to grab your bag. The fluorescent lights flicker sporadically, casting an artificial lightning over the benches. As you reach for the bag, squinting, you catch a little yellow post-it sticking out from its smallest pocket.

Thanks, it reads, messy script scrawled in blue ink. Folded beneath it is a slightly wrinkled five dollar bill.

Despite yourself, a small smile spreads across your face. The thawing has begun.

It’s an uphill journey, of course, but with each victorious battle you inch a little closer to winning the war. Semi isn’t invincible, and the cracks in his icy facade are beginning to show.

He’s a little more patient, a little more understanding. His small gestures betray his hand as he shows you how to angle your skates to stop on the ice, as he gives you a pack of tissues when you have a runny nose. He still manages to sneak in an eye roll or snide side comment, of course-- “Seriously, you can’t even brake? You’re hopeless,” or “You shouldn’t have come into work today if you’re sick. You’ll pass all your germs to me.” But still, it’s baby steps, you remind yourself, clutching onto his arm as you come to a grinding halt on the ice, snatching the tissues from his hand with a pained smile and a forced “Thanks, Semi.”

One day, you have to take a shift immediately after leaving a family friend’s wedding. It had been a lovely ceremony (with really, really good chocolate cake), but you hadn’t had time to change into work clothes, so you find yourself rushing through the doors still wearing a cocktail dress and heels, tugging your backpack onto your shoulder and praying your manager doesn’t notice you’re a few minutes late.

Semi is at the counter cleaning a pair of skates, meticulously wiping the blades dry. His phone rests beside him, some sort of pulsing electropop trickling softly from its speakers. He’s nodding his head slightly, keeping pace with the rhythm, and his face is calm, devoid of the irritation you’ve grown so familiar with.

You clear your throat. “Uh, hey.”

Semi looks up, and for a moment, time stops. His eyes widen almost imperceptibly, and he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing painfully in his throat as his gaze shakily makes its way down from the tops of your bare shoulders, to your exposed neckline, to the skirt swishing just above your knees. The dress is a soft pink chiffon, more delicate and feminine than anything you’d ever worn into work.

There’s a sudden heat, a jolt in the pit of your stomach as he meets your eyes again, and you swear he feels it too. It seems as though the temperature in the rink has instantaneously risen twenty degrees-- you think you might start sweating.

“You look…” Semi breathes, but then he stops himself, choking down whatever his next words might’ve been. He furrows his brows and tears his stare away, looking back down at the forgotten skates.

There’s a brief beat of silence, dappled with only the occasional child’s shriek of joy from on the ice.

“You’d better get changed,” he says finally, pointedly looking anywhere but you.

“Okay,” you say, unable to come up with anything more sophisticated. Your mind is empty of anything but the memory of those cold grey eyes growing suddenly hot, gazing into yours with a warmth of indescribable magnitude. As you slowly walk into the womens’ lockers, something dawns on you. There might be a different way to melt the ice prince.

Work is different, after that. Your days are no longer characterized by torment, by rude jabs and scowls from Semi that poke at you right where you’re sore. Instead, they’re not-so-subtly woven with lingering glances, with “accidental” touches at just the right moment to send an unwanted shudder to the very tips of your fingers and toes.

Once, when you’re working the counter, fitting customers and renting out skates, Semi skids off the ice with a spray of snow and clinks his way over to you, blades meeting the tile floor metallically.

“I’m gonna change these out for a different pair,” he tells you, and you nod, acutely aware of his close proximity. As he slips behind you, he touches your lower back lightly, just enough so you know he’s there. A breath catches in your throat when his fingers linger just a little longer than necessary, leaving their imprints burning on your skin, even through the thick fabric of your sweater.

He doesn’t look at you when he comes back out, but the back of his neck is flushed pink. You catch a whiff of his cologne-- it’s woody and spicy, comforting like a distant childhood memory. You fight the sudden impulse to launch yourself into his arms and bury your face in his hair, inhaling that holiday-esque scent.

No, no, no, you scold yourself as you watch him slide back onto the ice. Not Semi Eita. Anyone but Semi Eita.

You’d set out to make peace with him, to make work life a little more bearable for the both of you. You hadn’t expected yourself to start looking forward to seeing him each day, to have your chest constrict, the air crushed from your lungs like a soda can underfoot every time he looked your way. All you’d wanted to do was melt his icy exterior-- not let yourself get scalded by his heat.

A week later, when you enter the rink, there’s an impossibly tall redhead leering over Semi, who’s idly filling in a timetable on the front counter. He’s chattering away in a lilting, sing-songy tone while Semi pays him exactly zero attention.

“--but the last episode was really of pristine quality, you know? None of that filler crap, just great writing, excellent animation, and-- oooooh.” When ginger giant notices you, a joker-like grin stretches across his face. “And who’s this?”

“I--”

“She’s nobody,” Semi cuts in, slamming the timetable shut and jumping over the counter. He glares up at his friend, looking a bit like a disgruntled house cat attempting to bully a tiger. “I think it’s about time for you to get going.”

The friend ignores Semi’s attempt at intimidation, instead turning his attention to you. He takes your hand in a way that makes it unclear whether or not he’s about to shake it or kiss it. You stifle a giggle. “Well, hello, ‘Nobody.’ Pretty name. My name’s Tendou Satori, but you can call me--”

Semi cuts him off with a sharp jab to the ribs and Tendou doubles over in pain, clutching his stomach overdramatically. “Not her.”

“Ouch, Semi-Semi,” Tendou gasps, though a few stray giggles escape with his theatrics. He glances at Semi, then to you, then back to him, apparently having some sort of silent epiphany. His face lights up as gleefully as a kid’s on Christmas morning. “Wait… is this the girl you’re always ta--”

Semi jabs him again, harder this time, and Tendou yelps, stumbling backwards. You cringe as he knocks over a stack of ice walkers— as entertaining as this squabble is, you’ll be the one to clean up the mess. Then Semi stalks over and drags him back by the wrist with the rough swagger of a sheriff arresting the town’s most wanted. He glowers at Tendou, face dark as a thunderstorm. “Tendou, I swear to God, if you so much say another word I will strangle you with my bare hands.”

“Never knew you were so kinky, Semi-Semi!” Tendou preemptively dodges any possible counterattack and turns to you, punctuating his next phrase with a wink: “Have fun with that.”

Later, once Semi has successfully ushered Tendou out the door, you turn to him, eyebrow raised. “What did he mean by ‘have fun with that,’ Eita?”

“Nothing,” Semi says, though his guarded tone leads you to suspect otherwise. He offers you a piece of gum before taking one himself and slipping the sleeve back into his bag. “He’s just like that. Also, since when have we been on a first name basis?”

You blush. You hadn’t even realized you’d called him by his first name. Then you smile a little, popping the gum into your mouth and folding the wrapper into a neat little square. “If you’d prefer, I could call you Semi-Semi as well.”

Semi pales, presumably watching as a vision of his life tormented by two Tendous flashes before his eyes. Then he looks back to you and clears his throat. “Eita is fine.”

As you go about your day, robotically hooking skates back on the shelf, wiping down the snack bar tables, stacking chair, and shivering the whole time, what Tendou was about to say rings in your ears: Are you the girl he’s always talking about?

You can’t help but wonder what exactly Semi says about you.

It’s a Saturday evening when you approach Semi to ask for a skating lesson.

“Please,” you say, trailing him around the edges of the rink like a lost puppy. He’s picking up stray bits of trash from beneath the benches— sticky pieces of candy wrappers and cigarette butts left behind by unconscientious skaters. “I just want to stop falling so often-- it’s embarrassing.”

“Yeah, it is embarrassing,” Semi says, suddenly standing upright and turning to face you. He leans close, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a sly half smile. “Sucks to suck.”

“Eita,” you say again, reaching out to tug the edge of his sleeve. He glances at your fingers tightly clutching the thick wool of his sweater and then back up to you. You put on your best pleading pout. “Come on, just for tonight? Just like an hour on the ice, tops.”

“I don’t know,” he says slowly. He glances at his watch and sighs. “I have to get home by nine… I guess we can stay for an hour. But only an hour.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

“Thanks, Semi-Semi,” you say with a grin, and he scowls.

“I told you not to call me that.”

“Too bad.”

Semi is a surprisingly good teacher. He pokes fun at you, of course, mocking the way you cling to him when he tries to teach you to skate in a circle, or the way you clumsily flail your arms to keep your balance, but he’s patient. He’s gentle when he corrects your form, when he offers you a hand with which to pull yourself up.

It’s only the two of you now, twenty minutes after closing time. All the lights in the rink are off but the large one directly overhead, a spotlight that illuminates the pale, glassy expanse of the ice. The scrape of your blades over the ice echoes throughout the rink as Semi holds your waist lightly, trying to guide you backwards.

“I don’t understand,” you complain, shuffling backwards and trying your hardest to avoid stepping on Semi’s skates. “If I need to go the other direction, I can just turn around, can’t I?”

“Nuh-uh,” he says, tightening his grip on your waist as you wobble slightly. “Saves time. Just keep your toe pointed inwards and move your skates in curves. It’s not that hard.”

“It’s not that hard,” you say, imitating him in a squeaky, high pitched tone.

You hear him snort behind you. “That’s not what I sound like.”

“That’s exactly what you sound like,” you say, looking down at your feet. Toes in. Skates move in curves. “Hey, wait, am I doing it right?”

You glide backwards, slowly, hesitantly. Semi moves with you, hands still hovering at your sides just in case. “Almost. Bend your knees a little, that’ll make it easier to balance.”

“Oh, okay. I-- shit!”

In an entirely ungraceful lurching movement, you lose your balance, grabbing Semi’s wrist in a futile attempt to remain upright. The next moment unfolds in slow motion as you fall backwards, pulling a horrified, wide-eyed Semi on top of you as your back hits the ice, his entire body sprawled over your smaller frame.

You lay in stunned silence for a second, feeling your spine throb and the cold of the ice already beginning to seep through your clothes. Semi’s face is inches from yours-- his breath smells like the spearmint gum he’s always chewing, and, for the first time, you notice subtle green flecks in his grey eyes.

“Sorry,” you finally whisper, staring at him. “I didn’t mean to.”

He doesn’t shift himself off of you, just stares back at you with furrowed brows. Almost imperceptibly, his gaze flicks down to your lips and back up again. Your breath catches in your throat-- but then a wide, bright grin breaks across his face, and it’s like the sun, brilliantly slicing through a gloomy mass of storm clouds with its sharp golden rays.

“You-- you’re-- you’re such a shit skater,” he chokes out between guffaws. You can feel his chest heaving with each laugh, and an angry flush crawls over your cheeks.

“It wasn’t my fault!” you protest, attempting to shove him off of you. He doesn’t budge. “You weren’t giving me enough space to move!”

“You should’ve seen your face,” he says, dramatically wiping an invisible tear from his eye. “God, it was so funny.”

“Well, sorry I’m not as good at skating as you are, Mr. I Do Everything Perfectly The First Time,” you scoff, again trying to push him off. Semi cocks an eyebrow and smirks, settling his forearms on either side of your head. Your heart beats erratically at his nearness. “And can you please move? You’re crushing my lungs.”

“Nope.”

You scowl. The repressed irritation from weeks and weeks of trying to get on his good side strains at the boundaries of your self control. “Get off, Semi.”

“Make me.” His eyes gleam with silent laughter as you struggle for a moment, unable to do anything more than wiggle beneath him.

You huff, resting your head back down on the ice in defeat. “You’re fucking heavy, Eita. What did you do before this, eat a buffet out of business?”

Semi chuckles, and it’s a low, raspy sound that vibrates in your chest. He leans in close, angling his face slightly. His lips hover just above yours, and you can feel his breath fan over your mouth with his next words: “You’re so damn annoying.”

There’s a beat of silence. A heavy, stifling tension hangs in the air, a live wire with crackling electricity dancing across its taut line. You stare at him, unblinking. Daring him to do something.

And then he’s kissing you, one hand cupping your cheek, the other slipping under your shoulders to pull you flush against his chest. He kisses you hungrily, recklessly, like he’s been fasting and your lips are the first food he’s seen for months. You grip the back of his sweater as you kiss him back, fingers clutching at the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. He tastes like mint and something sweet; it’s messy, there’s tongue and teeth, and your jeans are wet from the ice— but at that moment, you think you’ve never been kissed better. A warmth spreads from his lips to yours, making its way down your throat into deep within your chest, where it burns your lungs and throbs almost painfully.

Though Semi Eita may be cold, his kisses are anything but.

When you break away he’s in quite the state, breathless with a flushed face and disheveled hair. You must look much the same, you think as you inhale deeply, blinking away the stars behind your eyes.

He sits up, resting on your hips. “Well, then.”

“Well, then,” you echo, propping yourself up on your forearms.

“You’re a shit kisser, too.” Semi grins when you gasp and punch him in the arm. You open your mouth to fire back, but before you can get a word out he leans down quick and kisses you again, soft and light. “It’s okay. We can practice.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“How generous of you.” You try to sound sarcastic but the words fall flat under Semi’s gaze. He smiles again and clambers onto his feet, offering you a hand.

“You wanna get dinner or something?”

You hold his hand on the walk out to his car, too, fingers tightly interlocked. He hums something under his breath, squeezing your palm every so often.

It’s freezing outside. As Semi fumbles with his keys, you rub your arms, trying in vain to brush away the stubborn goosebumps.

When you climb into the passenger seat, Semi lets you choose the radio station and, before he pulls out of the lot, he silently taps his cheek for a kiss. You roll your eyes but nonetheless lean over to give him a quick peck.

“Thanks,” he says, putting an arm over the back of your seat to pull out of the space. A slow acoustic song comes on, reminiscent of thick woolen blankets and cheerfully flickering flames.

The cold war is over, and you’re not quite sure who melted who.

“Mhm,” you hum. Semi offers you his upturned palm without taking his eyes of the road, so you slip your hand into his, enjoying the way his fingers envelop yours. There’s a light winter rain outside, washing away any remnants of frost on windowpanes and waterpipes.

But, frankly, you don’t really care.

#haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#semi eita x reader #semi eita #semi eita headcanons #semi eita imagines #semi eita x you

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