#WHY IS LINKS OUTFIT SO FRUITY

[esperr]

Link tears of the kingdom icons

[liuvli]

Critical Darling

pairing: eddie munson x fem!goth!reader

summary: It's your senior year. You're a "goth freak" and you definitely stand out, but it doesn't bother you. You're proud of who you are, and nobody is going to change that. Not even the person that motivated you to be so proud in the first place. Eddie "The Freak" Munson.

warnings: she/her pronouns, slow burn, cursing, alcohol, smoking, eventual smut, minor use of y/n, slightly bitchy reader, work in progress

tags: first meetings, pov second person, s4 doesn't happen, goth!reader, tradgoth!reader, fluff, angst, eddie & chrissy friendship, reader is a little fruity

all fic chapters and ao3 link

chapter wc: 5.3k

Chapter Six: Nineteen Forty-Six

The sound of Eddie’s cheap alarm clock on his window ledge instantly woke you up from your deep sleep, and your eyes darted around the room as you observed your surroundings, the daylight seeping through his closed blinds illuminating the room. You squinted as something felt off about it, and almost as if you had some sort of sixth sense, your eyes drifted up to the buzzing clock above you. Taking a few seconds to process the numbers displayed in red, flashing in time with the beeping, your eyes widened. 10:30 am, the clock read, and you threw the blanket off of yourself as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, your heels landing on the boy still fast asleep on the floor. 

Slipping off the mattress, you knelt down beside the sleeping man, your hands flying up to grab his shoulder and side, shaking him vigorously as you begged. 

“Munson, wake up. Wake the fuck up, man. We’re LATE.” Miraculously, his eyes gently fluttered open, big brown eyes taking a moment before looking up at you, a hand raising to rub the sleep from his face. Eddie looked up at you with an expression of pure confusion, taking a few seconds longer than you would’ve liked for him to finally give any sort of response. 

“Huh?” Groaning, you grabbed his face and twisted his head to face the alarm clock, still buzzing urgently above. He read the time on the display, kissing his teeth as he processed what he was looking at. You forced him to face you again, your eyes pleading. 

“School. We’re both late. Why do you even have your alarm set for this time? How do you ever make it to your morning classes?” Eddie chuckling at your questioning filled you with annoyance, and you dropped his head as you stood up and began digging through your belongings behind him. 

Despite hearing him stand up behind you and finally shut off the beeping of the alarm, which had turned into white noise for you by now, you paid no mind to the boy, grabbing your clothes and trying to figure out how to turn last night’s outfit into something suitable for school. You were so focused on trying to solve this problem in a short amount of time, that you didn’t even notice Eddie crouching down beside you, balancing on the balls of his feet and resting his elbows on his knees, his hair falling to the side as he tilted his head down to watch your hands as they moved around. 

“We’ll take the day off. It’ll be fine. You don’t have any important classes on a Friday, anyway.” You rolled your eyes at how carefree he was, turning your head to face him, an unimpressed expression on your face as it was now only a few inches away from his. 

“All of my classes are important, you di- Wait, how do you know what my Friday classes are?” The brunette blinked once, his face straight as he stood from his position, stepping back as you turned your head to follow his movements.

“...Nobody has interesting classes on a Friday. Well-known information.” Standing and turning to face him, you crossed your arms over your chest, leaning on one leg.

Eddie was facing the window as he stood in the middle of the room, raising his arms above his head as he stretched, exposing a slither of fair skin above his waistband which you couldn’t help but notice as it contrasted the darkness of both his shirt and his pajama pants. You grimaced, averting your eyes as you looked back up at him. 

“Clearly not that well-known. I can’t just take a day off, Munson. You might be fine redoing a year, as everyone knows, but I’m not.” Taking in what you were saying, Eddie rolled his head on his shoulders, stepping out of his room as you followed behind from a distance, wanting answers from him. 

Stepping into the kitchen, you leaned your hip against a countertop as Eddie filled a scuffed mug with coffee, taking a sip as he also leaned back onto the edge of the sink. 

“You have a fair point. But don’t stress too much, it’s only one day. Besides, aren’t you avoiding Kace right now?” Clearing your throat at his comment, you looked away, adjusting your stance awkwardly, shrugging. 

“...Whatever. But it’s your funeral if this impacts my grades somehow.” Looking over at him in the corner of your eye, the boy shrugged, before walking over to and past you, leaving the kitchen as he made his way over to one of the couches in the living room, falling down as he made himself comfortable.

“And hey, I think it’s my year this time. I’m sure I’ll graduate this time ‘round.” Rolling your eyes, you followed suit, taking space up on the couch opposite Eddie. 

A few hours passed, sitting on that couch with Eddie, sipping coffee and eating mostly breakfast waffles that the boy had made for the two of you. Not knowing how else to pass the hours until you needed to be home in time for April getting back from school, you had been questioning Eddie on himself; asking how many times he had redone his senior year, why he was constantly redoing it, why he was such an idiot, etc. Weirdly, he was more than happy to answer your questions, explaining it was his third time repeating the year, he had a difficult time taking his classes seriously in the past, he wasn’t really that stupid, etc. It was somewhat nice learning about the boy, even if he refused to answer when you asked him to elaborate on what he meant when mentioning how he’s glad that he fucked up those first two attempts at graduating his senior year. 

It was finally time for you to return home, and Eddie had graciously offered to drive you back, as he’d feel bad making you figure out your own way home. But after what Chrissy had mentioned to you at the diner the other week, you found yourself endeared by the offer, feeling like you could see what she meant by Eddie looking out for people. 

His van pulled up to your house, and you hopped out with only a quick ‘goodbye’ exchanged between the two of you as you noticed April walking up the sidewalk just a few meters in front of the vehicle. As you shut the car door behind you, walking alongside your sister to the front of the house, April spoke up beside you.

“Who’s the guy?” You pulled out your house key, unlocked the door, and let April step in before you did, closing the door as you kicked your shoes off.

“Just that. A guy.” The shorter girl gave you a look before shrugging it off and instantly making her way over to the couch, slumping down onto it with a tired groan. 

As you followed her into the house further, you looked around, noticing just how tidy the place was, even after the state it was in last night before you left, the decorations even being tucked into a box that had been left beside the kitchen table. After a few moments of inspecting every aspect of the room, you had concluded that Kace must’ve stayed there late to tidy up for you.

Thinking of the boy, you suddenly felt very guilty for how you had left things last night. You really didn’t mean to snap at him, as you know it wasn’t his fault you were so stressed, but you couldn’t help yourself. Avoiding him was stupid, and you knew it was, but you needed to give it a chance before seeing him again, as you knew seeing him so soon after the events of last night would make you want to shrivel in on yourself and disappear. 

Friday evening was spent alone in your room mostly as you listened to music, only leaving your pit to occasionally bug April in her room or cook for the two of you. The weekend was no different, with the only addition being spending your Saturday doing housework, like laundry and the dishes as April went out to meet up with friends, only returning in the late afternoon.

Just as quickly as the weekend came around, Monday arrived. Today was the day you’d stop being a bitch and you’d finally attempt to talk to Kace about Thursday night’s incident. Almost as if you had been somehow avoiding him and the rest of your group all day (which you most definitely were), you hadn’t managed to find a chance to spend time with him. Thankfully, however, you did manage to run into another familiar face.

Eddie had slid in between you and another person when you were getting your lunch in the cafeteria and had invited you to skip your last class with him. Despite the unimpressed look you had given him, something you found yourself doing a lot lately, he took it as a ‘yes’ and cheerfully ran off after not grabbing anything to eat, earning annoyed expressions from the people behind you in the lunch line. 

Last period finally rolled around, and you had met Eddie under the bleachers where you had seen him so many weeks ago, and just like what you were doing on that occasion, you were smoking again, listening to the squeaks of sneakers as a class of sophomores played basketball on the court. It had been mostly a relaxed hang-out, until the one person you were dreading seeing today stepped into the area, his posture dipping to avoid hitting his head off the seats above. 

Your eyes immediately darted away from the tall male, your very obviously accusatory gaze landing on the metalhead, who was raising his hands in surrender, a cigarette resting between his lips. He had set you up. That fucking-

“Hey, love. You been okay?” Kace took a seat on the floor next to where you were sitting, taking a cigarette from the carton Eddie was holding out towards him. Not knowing how to reply without sounding too ‘off’ or too careless, you rubbed the back of your neck with your hand, your head tilting up to avoid making eye contact.

“Yeah, somewhat. You?” A master of conversation, truly. The boy shifted his position to get more comfortable.

“Mhm. Hellfire had a session, went well,” Eddie hummed, a non-verbal agreement, “I made sure to tidy your place after everyone left on Thursday. Felt like you’d appreciate coming back to a tidy house.” Your shoulders slumped as you felt a twang of guilt again. 

“Yeah, yeah, I did. Thanks for that, I noticed the second I got home on Friday.” Not realizing what had caused it, you looked down at Kace as he snorted, taking a drag of the cigarette between his fingers. 

“Oh, yeah? Where’d you run off to then? I mean, during the party.” Speechless, and feeling somewhat embarrassed of your tantrum four days ago, your eyes flicked over to Eddie, who was slouching back in his chair, raising his eyebrows as you locked eyes with him. 

He must’ve noticed the unintentional pleading expression you held, as he shifted to sit up in his chair, clearing his throat.

“Ah, that. I ended up finding her not too far down the road and took her back to mine so she could call her sister. That was all, really.” Nervously, your eyes snapped between Eddie and Kace, trying to sense if Eddie’s explanation was good enough for your skeptical friend. The boy squinted his eyes up at Eddie but shrugged. 

“As long as you were safe, love. I was worried about where you had run off to, but knew you would’ve hated me if I left the house unattended with a bunch of intoxicated teens inside. Figured you’d be able to look after yourself.” You chuckled, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

“Yeah, of course. I’m sorry for how I acted, by the way. I knew you were just trying to-” Before you could finish your apology, you were cut off.

“Hush, no need. I know the pressure you’re under, love, and I know I can be a bit overbearing at times. As long as you feel somewhat better now, that’s all that matters.” Kace gave you a reassuring smile, to which you gave him one back. A few moments of silence passed.

“So, you and Munson, huh?” You waved your hands in front of you, grimacing as you shook your head vigorously.

“God, ew, no.” You argued back, as Eddie shook his head, too. He gave a similar response as you did, but for whatever reason, was less repulsed by Kace’s comment. You wrote it off as him not wanting to be rude.

Your internal questioning was interrupted as Kace opened his mouth again, which worried you due to what had previously just left it, but was instead glad to hear what he had to suggest.

“We should get food. Like, now. I’ll pay.” You perked up in your seat, enticed by the offer of free food, and Eddie’s tired eyes widened in interest.

“You might be an actual genius. I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard since… whenever we decided to be friends.” The comment made the boy laugh, and before you could get another word out, the school bell had rung and the three of you were piling into your respective vehicles to make your pitstops home before meeting up again. 

After the two of you dropped your bags off at yours and left a note for April saying where you had gone, Kace pulled up outside the establishment, both of you stepping out of the car just as Eddie was pulling into the parking space beside you. You turned around where you were standing to lean against the car, facing Eddie in the driver’s seat as he turned off the engine and opened the door, looking down at you as he stepped out. 

“We need to stop bumping into each other like this, doll.” You rolled your eyes, dropping your arms as you stood up straight, beginning to walk with Kace.

“Please die.” The brunette jogged to catch up with you, shoving his arm into you as the three of you stepped through the doors.

“Only if you ask nicely.”

Ordering your food was less than ideal, as Kace decided to take a century to figure out what kind of burger he was “resonating with”, only to decide on a regular cheeseburger, which had you and Eddie exchanging a mutual look of disappointment before you all found a booth to claim. Eddie had run over to it to claim the space he wanted the most, as Kace accidentally bumped into a guy who was passing him, looking back in surprise as the guy apologized. 

“Was that ‘the hair’ dude?” Sliding down into the booth next to Eddie, you twirled a piece of hair around your finger as you shrugged.

“Not a clue what that means.” Kace glanced across the room, and not long later, the food had arrived. 

As you had started eating your fries, Kace stood up from his seat, saying he was going to the restroom, to which you nodded in acknowledgment, turning back around to see Eddie plucking fries away from the box you held in your hand, shoving them in his mouth. You continued to chew on what you had in your mouth, just giving him a blank look, before he gestured over to somewhere in the room. Not knowing where to look at first, your eyes finally found the leather back of Kace, who was leaning against the side of the drinks machine, talking to the guy he had bumped into before. 

“That’s such a weird sight.” Eddie mumbled through a mouth full of salted fries. You raised a brow, not quite understanding.

“It’s that Harrington guy. Steve, I think. Went to Hawkins, huge dork. Not, like, actual dork, but you know what I mean.” Analyzing the scene for a few more seconds, you dipped another fry into your ketchup.

“Means nothing to me.” 

When Kace had finally returned, you let him finish his meal in peace. You could tell from the way Eddie was staring him down that he wanted to ask him about what you had both seen, but something stopped him. Possibly the fact that embarrassing Kace in public would earn the loudest ‘WHAT? NO.’ anyone had ever heard in a burger restaurant before, so you both chose to let it be. 

A short 5 minutes passed before you decided to leave, and as you were walking out the doors, you turned slightly to face Eddie as you made your way across the parking lot.

“My sister asked who you were.” The brunette turned to face you, surprised, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

“Oh, yeah? What’d you say?” As Kace fumbled his keys, trying to find the one that would unlock his car, you leaned against your door again, Eddie standing in front of you against his van.

“Said you were just some guy.” The car beeped behind you, signaling it was unlocked, and Eddie laughed as he finally unlocked his own vehicle.

“Glad to know you think so highly of me. I’m honored, truly.” With only an eye-roll in response, you slid into the car before Eddie waved to the two of you, driving out of the parking lot.

Fastening your seatbelt, and realizing how Kace wasn’t already starting the engine, you looked over to him, confused. However, as you did, you were met with this weird, smug expression, something you hadn’t seen from the boy before. A kind of ‘I know something you don’t’ expression. 

“What’s the look for?” With his grade A acting skills, the boy shrugged, starting the car with a shrug.

“Don’t know what you mean. I didn’t give a look. You’re crazy.” The car began leaving the parking lot and driving down the road, and you gently shook your head, confused. 

“No, you gave me a look. Don’t call me crazy, you always do this.” Almost as if he genuinely believed what he was saying, your words were shrugged off again, and not having the energy to persist again, you left it at that. For now.

After spending the entire weekend away from Kace, not even a singular phone call between the two of you, spending time with him again was just what you needed, and it reminded you of just how much you loved him. It was unlike you to be the one proposing plans, especially ones that could be considered last minute, but you didn’t have control over the words which were leaving your mouth until they already had.

“Sleepover at mine? You know, to make up for me running away from the ball the other night.” If it wasn’t for the fact that you had conveniently approached a red stoplight at that moment, you fully believed Kace would’ve still slammed the brakes on the car in the middle of the road as you asked the question. Twisting his head to face you in a way that seemed almost inhuman, you leaned back as you understood what the wide grin on his face meant.

“Absolutely. No need to ask me twice, oh my god. I love you.” You snorted at his enthusiasm. You never wanted to spend that long away from him ever again. 

The car pulled onto the driveway finally, and you both immediately made your way into the house, finding April rotting on the couch watching daytime television as always, almost as if it had become her afterschool ritual. She perked up when she heard the door close, however, and leaned her arms on the back of the couch as Kace greeted her. She gave him a genuine smile, before dropping it and turning her attention to you.

“You been hanging out with the guy again?” You held a hand up towards her as you made your way into the kitchen, not bothering to face her.

“Go away. What about Brad? You hang out with him today?” As Kace followed you into the kitchen bending down to lean over the kitchen island, you heard an extremely dramatic, excessively loud groan from the living room, the girl flopping back onto the couch.

“Oh my godddd, shut UP.” Kace chuckled, matching your smug grin as you began to pour drinks for the two of you. 

Not having any better idea on how to spend the rest of your afternoon, you and Kace decided to return to the living room where April still was, opting to watch movies with her until later on in the evening when Kace assisted you in cooking dinner for the three of you. The sight of the broken house phone on the counter beside the fridge left you with a pit in your stomach as you made a mental note to speak to your parents about it whenever they next decided to return home.

If it was anyone else, eating a meal with them and your sister would’ve felt weird, as you weren’t particularly a people person, and April most definitely wasn’t. In Kace’s case, however, it felt more natural than eating a meal with your parents. With the boy being your oldest friend, and being one of the very few people to ever get on April’s good side, it was like eating a meal with your two siblings. It was one of the many reasons you were grateful for him being a part of your life. 

After the meal, April had left to go shower and retire to her room, whilst you and Kace tidied up after dinner, before also heading upstairs. Sitting on your double bed, Siouxsie playing in the background on your stereo, Kace was painting a fresh layer of black onto his nails, and you quietly read one of your many books, this current read being one of your favorites by far. Despite how interesting it was, a thought managed to squeeze its way into your mind, stealing your attention away from the words on the page. Sliding a thin strip of paper in between the pages of your book as you closed it, and setting it down onto your lap, Kace noticed the movement, looking up at you through his lashes whilst hunched over, continuing to paint his nail. 

“What was the look about?” The boy gave a quiet ‘hm?’ before understanding what you had meant.

“Ohhh, nothing. What look?” You huffed, placing your book down next to you as you shuffled closer to him, trying to earn more of his attention.

“Kace, don’t fuck with me here. You gave me a look. I usually know what your weird looks mean, but I’m stumped this time.” Taking notice of every little movement he made, trying to figure out what his deal was, you watched as the boy chewed on his lip whilst contemplating something. He does a singular stroke of nail polish on his pinky nail before twisting the cap onto the small bottle and placing it on your bedside table, beginning to gently wave his hands around the speed up to drying process. 

“Right. It’s nothing really.” You squint your eyes at him, making him more nervous as he looks away, across the room.

“BUT. If you’re really that worked up over it… I’d suggest talking to Eddie about it. It’s between the two of you to work out, okay?” This answer left you more confused than you were before. 

What does he mean by ‘work out’? I didn’t know there was anything that needed ‘working out’. He even said he didn’t dislike my presence- Wait. He never said anything about what he thought of ME, though. This fucking guy. 

Snapping you out of your spiraling, Kace stated how late it was, yawning as he stretched his arms outwards, suggesting that the two of you should finally get some sleep. Still confused, and most definitely overthinking every word of what Kace had said, you agreed, switching the lamp off before you both tucked yourselves under the sheets. You let your arm dangle off the side of the bed, not reaching the floor as your bedframe was too tall, as Kace cuddled up with a pillow against the wall, his usual nighttime routine. Where he’d instantly fall asleep the second he got into a comfortable position, you’d still be lying awake, and tonight was no different.

Laying on your back with your arms crossed over your chest like a disgruntled vampire sleeping in their coffin, you analyzed every spot on your ceiling, thinking about the situation with Eddie. 

Is Munson just tolerating me? Is it literally just that? Tolerating? Chrissy, back at the diner, said he was a gentleman, so his actions might not necessarily mean he likes me. All the weird looks, even weirder behavior. Do I finally have some sort of explanation for all of that? Fuck. I was just starting to warm up to him. 

After your sleepover with Kace, a few weeks passed. School was going well, mostly stress-free, and you had formed a somewhat 50/50 split between lunchtimes where you and Kace would eat lunch with your regular group, and lunchtimes where you’d sit with Hellfire at their usual lunch table. A majority of your free time consisted of reading your ever-growing collection of books, going to the hangout with Kace to watch Corroded Coffin play, hanging out on the sidelines whenever Kace had a session with Hellfire, and random trips to the shopping area of town with Kace, Eddie, and occasionally, some of the club members. 

The few weeks leading up to Christmas were enjoyable if you really thought about it, and nothing too eventful happened at school in a while, as most Seniors were too busy studying for their tests at the end of the academic year, and you were hoping that the rest of the actual year leading up to New Years would be the same. 

It was December, and if you were a time traveler who had somehow ended up in Hawkin’s around this time of year, you would definitely be able to tell. The town center was decked in Christmas lights, and storefronts were equally decorated by employees, really getting the collaborative spirit up, something Hawkins wasn’t known for always doing. Trying to join in on the festivities, and also because it had become a tradition for the two fo you to always do together, April and you had decorated the exterior of the house in tasteful, warm Christmas lights, hanging a wreath on the front door to tie it all together. Thankfully, the two of you set all of it up just in time, as one day, after a long week at school, you returned home, and your heart sank into your stomach at the sight of your parent’s car in the driveway, a sight you had almost forgotten.

They hadn’t specified when they’d be returning from their “business trip” months back when they initially left, but a part of you knew it was mostly likely going to end up being in time for the holidays, something you had tried to avoid thinking about since it first became a thought in your mind a few weeks ago. 

A deep breath in, and a deeper breath out, you gathered the courage to step into the house, your fingers clutching your bag strap as you stepped through the front door quietly. Despite trying your best to do everything much quieter than usual, every movement you made sounded somehow louder than usual. 

Stepping into the living room, April was sitting at the dining table with her head down, doing homework, which she’d usually do up in her room. So, instantly, things felt wrong. You could feel tension building, as your parents currently weren’t anywhere to be seen, until you carefully tread closer to the kitchen, the two of them standing behind the island counter. With his head also down, your dad was leaning across the countertop, reading the mail addresses to him which you had left piled up over the last few months, and your mom… standing almost completely still, silently inspecting the broken house phone in her hand. Sensing your presence, she looked up, a stiff expression on her face as she held the phone up slightly, the cable swinging below. 

“Yeah, I needed to tell you about that. I accidentally tripped on-” She held her hand up, and you instantly pressed your mouth shut, lips sucked in nervously. 

“I don’t want to hear excuses. You could’ve let me know beforehand.” With the broken phone…?

“I leave you more than enough cash so you can look after yourself and your sister, and I leave you with the responsibility of the house’s upkeep. A big responsibility. Maybe I’ve been mistaken. Maybe your father and I will have to be home more often from now on, which would mean sacrificing the years of dedication we’ve put into our careers, and taking a step back from our current roles for something… less time-consuming.”

To anyone else, that would be great. Your parents are home more often, if not full-time, so they could assume their roles as actual parents. But your situation was… different. Not one that most people could relate to, and definitely not one you loved being in. The idea of your parents coming home more often? It made you feel sick to your stomach.

“I’m sorry, mom. I am.” No acknowledgment. 

“You’re eighteen in a few months, and I’m starting to feel like I can’t trust you to be home alone with your sister when we go away for work. Will you prove me wrong?” Without taking a second too long to actually think about an answer, you nodded your head, almost too enthusiastically for the situation you were in. 

“Yes, I’m sorry. I’ll go into town and I’ll-” Again, silenced by just the raise of a hand.

“Leave it. Your dad will sort out the issue of the house phone, but you’ll need to get a job so you can pay him back eventually. You’ve gotten away with not having one for the longest time when I’ve been working since I turned fourteen. Just don’t let me come home to something like this again. Yes?” Not knowing how else to respond, and not even considering the option of arguing back, you nodded. You glanced over at April, her head still down, and your dad was the same, seeming somewhat too interested in just a bunch of junk mail. He knew not to get involved in your mother’s parenting by now, so this was the norm. 

As you began to turn on your heel, your mom spoke again.

“And I thought I told you to cut it out with all… that.” She gestured her manicured hand at you, referencing your makeup and clothing, something you were used to from her by now. You smacked your lips quietly before fully turning to walk away.

“...I’ve got homework I need to get done.” Reaching the hallway, your mom shouted one last time.

“Make sure you get it done, and none of that strange music, thank you.” Rolling your eyes, you quietly rushed up to your room, slowly closing the door behind you so as to not catch your mom’s attention again. Throwing yourself onto your bed and grabbing the book you had left in your bedside drawer the night before, you opened it and started reading where you had left off, not being quite in the mood to get your head stuck in homework after that encounter with your favorite parent. The next couple of weeks would be pure bliss. 

[lucy-sky]

Spark (tattoo master!Griff x f!Reader)

A sequel to Skulls and Roses no one asked for! Yaaaay!

Amaya said there was chemistry, and maybe yes, there in fact was :D  In a few months you return to Griff's Tattoos after a bad date.

Warnings: casual sex (with a hint to something more); oral sex f receiving; Griff says “fuck” a lot.

Words: 1473; AO3 link in case you prefer reading there

It was probably one of the worst dates you had in a very long while. The guy only kept talking about himself, his job and his projects, and you thought you’ve never felt that bored before. Bored and… Unimportant? No, but really… It was so bad that at some point you had to lie to him about some emergency at home in order to escape.

A part of you is relieved now that it’s finally over, but on the other hand it’s terribly frustrating. It’s the fourth man you’ve gone out with this month and nothing clicks. Actually it’s more like the opposite - each guy seems to be even worse than the previous one. Or… Maybe it’s not just them? Maybe there’s something wrong with you? Yeah, right, self-love and self-respect, you know that, but still the question lingers in the back of your mind. Maybe the problem is that you started dating a bit too soon? But it’s been months since your breakup, and you thought you were ready. You’re realistic enough to not expect to fall in love at first sight with a beautiful prince charming, but so far no one even made you want to go on a second date. And well… Dating is exhausting after all - you try hard to look pretty, to make a good impression, and for what? Shit, maybe you’re simply not meant to be with someone?..

Drowning in these troubled thoughts, you found yourself at Griff’s Tattoos porch again, as if your feet brought you there against your own will. You’re not sure why you’re doing this and what you’re expecting, but after a moment of hesitation you reach the doorknob and push.

“Good ev- Oh. Hey there, darlin’!” the man grins widely as he recognizes you, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Didn’t think I’m ever gonna see ya here again.”

“Hey, Griff,” you say simply with a faint smile on your lips, as you walk in.

“So, uh… You want another tattoo?”

“Not really.”

“Okay,” he frowns, dark brown eyes roaming up and down your body, taking in you outfit and makeup. “You look freakin’ gorgeous, by the way. Some special event?”

“I had a date.”

“A date, really?” his eyebrows raise in amusement. “You don’t seem to be very happy ‘bout that.”

“I’m not,” you sigh as you walk to the already familiar desk and sit right on the tabletop.

“No?” Griff comes closer, looking at you intently, trying to catch your gaze. “Why’s that?”

“Maybe dating’s just not my thing,” you mutter with a shrug of your shoulders. “Or maybe he’s just too dull and self-centered. Or… I’m just tired.”

“D’you want me uh… to make you forget ‘bout that shit, like last time?”

Griff’s hand reaches to brush a strand of hair from your face. Unconsciously, you lean into his touch.

“Maybe.”

Griff’s kiss is exactly the same as you remember - fierce and deep, and stealing the breath out of your lungs. It tastes like fruit bubble gum, which feels a bit weird to you - a guy with such a brutal appearance, his kisses must be like whiskey and cigarettes or at least like black coffee or something, but there’s this sweet fruity taste, and even though it’s strange, it’s not unpleasant. Your hands wrap around his neck, fingers caressing the shaved back of his head as you melt into the kiss, let the pleasant warmth of it wash over you, pushing all the frustrating thought away for a while.

Griff’s hands skim up your thighs, slowly pushing up the skirt of your dress.

“Hmm… Are those stockings?” he purrs against your lips. “That’s sexy as fuck, you know that, huh? Can I get a closer look?”

Without waiting for your answer, he drops on his knees, and soon you feel his teeth grazing against the tender skin above the hem of your stockings as he leaves a series of nips and bites on the inside of your thighs. The scratch of his beard makes you shiver, and all of this, especially seeing him between your legs like that turn you on so much you can barely hold a desperate moan.

“Just… Fuck me already, Griff… Stop playing,” you let out a shaky breath, writhing impatiently.

“Oooh, that’s how we’re talking now,” he quips. “No more hints, no maybes, just straight up to the point, are we?”

“You really have to be an ass right now?” you huff snappishly through gritted teeth.

“Relax, princess. M’ gonna fuck you just right,” he smirks, glancing up at you from between your thighs. “Wanna see what else I can do?”

“Surprise me.”

He chuckles at your request, his big hands already reaching to tug your panties down.

“Thank god there’s no fuckin’ shoelaces this time,” he murmurs as you simply shake your shoes off your feet to let him get rid of your underwear. Pushing your legs apart, Griff wastes no time, parting your folds with his thumbs and licking a long hot strip along your slit.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, hips twitching as his tongue meets your clit before diving deeper to taste your arousal.

This man’s tongue really works wonders - alternating between sucking harshly on your clit and light teasing flicks against its tip, he gets you on cloud nine in no time, you’re almost embarrassed at how fast it happens. Your legs are shaking as you come down from your high, trying to catch a breath. Griff’s beard is glistening with your juices when he’s crushing his lips on yours again, while he blindly reaches to fish the condom out of his back pocket.

There’s this pleasant, satisfying weariness in your body once everything is over, and you wish you could simply enjoy this warm post-orgasmic bliss, but your brain once again doesn’t let you do it, one stupid thought bothering you for some reason.

“Hey, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Griff asks as he tucks himself back into his pants. “If you’re uh… feeling guilty for using me for sex or something - don’t worry, I’m more than okay with that.”

“Actually… I was wondering if you treat all your female customers like that,” you tell him honestly.

“Huh?” he cocks his eyebrow in surprise. “What makes you think that?”

“Oh I don’t know,” you shrug. “But somehow you always have condoms in your pocket.”

“You say it like it’s a bad fuckin’ thing.”

“It’s not, but it makes me think you don’t mind fucking around.”

“Yeah, so what? Maybe I do love fuckin’ around, you’re right, but I don’t… Sleep with customers on a regular basis, if that’s what you think. Who am I, a fucking gigolo?”

“Fine,” you raise your hands in a surrendering gesture. “Sorry, didn’t mean to offend you, really.”

“Look, I’d never insist on anything if I wasn’t sure you wanted that too,” he continues in a calmer tone.

“Uhh… Okay, and… Why’d you think I wanted it? I mean… Back then, when I first came here.”

“Oh come on! There was this thing between us, you know, like… A spark.”

“A spark?..” you try to suppress an amused chuckle, as it’s definitely not something you expected to hear from him.

“Yeah! Or whatever you fucking call it… Don’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about. You kissed me first, remember?”

“Right. But before kissing you I actually seriously considered slapping you.”

“But you didn’t!” he gives you a triumphant grin. “See, that’s what I’m sayin’. The spark.”

“Okay, you won,” you admit, because you really have nothing to say against it. Let it be a spark. “I guess I have to go,” you say quickly, not wanting the awkward silence to settle in.

“Wait, uh… Listen, I was thinking, you… Maybe you wanna grab a couple of beers in the pub ‘round the corner?” Griff suddenly suggests, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I…” you clear your throat, taken aback by his invitation. “Sorry, but I just think another date would already be too much for one evening.”

“Jesus, woman! Why’d you have to label every goddamn thing?” he snorts, rolling his eyes. “Date… Fuck it. It’s just… Shit, I just wanna hang out with you some more, that’s all. Thought you enjoy my company as well, so…” he trails off with a soft chuckle, and you suddenly think… What if he’s right? Maybe you just tend to overthink the whole dating thing too much? It’s true in fact - you enjoy Griff’s company, despite his ridiculous tattoos and the amount of swear words he says every time he gets to speak. At least with him you don’t have to think of making a good impression, you can… Just simply be yourself. That actually sounds pretty nice.

“Yeah, what the hell. I’d love to grab a beer with you.”

Thanks for reading!

no pressure tags for those who enjoyed the previous story: @sweetieswiftie @faithlove21 @marvelous-world-of-fiction @munsonownsmyass​ @darlingshane​

[goose-books]

3 for Anna and Errans, and also 20 and 21 :3

i meant to remember to answer these before the last day of pride month. and then! anyway,

3. How did your oc discover themself? Did something cause them to question, or did they always know?

(godsong WIP page with links) (for context, anna is god's specialest girl ever and the main character, and she's a transfemme nonbinary lesbian. errans is a minor side character with terrible sideburns and transmasc unswag)

anna grew up in a city where priests have a special gender and pronoun, and she was designated a priest at age 11 by the gods, so her transness started as sort of an occupational thing; she was like, "okay, i'm priestgender," and then progressed to, "wait, i like this gender stuff." you are allowed to be priestgender and also another thing, and getting to explore her presentation at the temple lead to the realization that her Other Thing was womanhood (nonbinary-flavored). more a sister than a woman etc <3

as for the lesbianism, i don't think that was ever a discovery for him; there's no homophobia in ivander and his parents are in a bisexual polycule, so i think he just always knew his future person would be a woman. (i say "person" because ivander doesn't have legal marriage, but there is a religious equivalent if you want to dedicate yourself to someone long-term; otherwise you can just do Whatever. city that is absolutely bursting with gender and fruitiness)

errans i'm less sure about dskhfkdsfkdsnfsd. i know he came out as trans when he was around sixteenish; i think he knew he was bisexual first, and the image coming to me is errans experiencing the "do-i-want-to-date-that-guy-or-be-that-guy" about someone he probably never actually spoke to. i don't get a vibe like he ever loathed being a woman, more so that eventually he just realized he could simply be a man. for free. and was like. "well this is clearly so much more what i'm supposed to be doing"

now i'm thinking about awkward teenage errans and his awkward genvy crushes. god bless him

20. Have your ocs helped you in self discovery? How?

sigh. well i have to tell the story don't i. POV: you are [max], age 12, working on the first iteration of the story that will become TMR (my on-hiatus YA transgender evil-faerie high fantasy). you give the character who will become moon marigold all of your uncomfortable feelings about your body, feelings that are certainly not physical dysphoria because you are cisgender. about a year or so later, you realize that this WIP is full of cishet white people (i have since remedied this), and you should really add some diversity. hey, moon's got weird body feelings! what if you made her genderfluid? that sounds great! you are not thinking at all about where those weird body feelings may have come from or how this may reflect on anything at all.

POV: you are [max], still age 13ish, and you've got a new WIP (it's my also-on-hiatus NA monsters-in-NYC thing). you are going to put a binary transgender person in it. not for any specific reason. you just wanted to. who can say why. certainly not you. anyway you've never done this before and you are a little nervous because how can you, as a cisgender person, accurately represent a trans character? you muse about how to write dysphoria as you dress up for an orchestra concert, in an outfit that is extremely feminine. halfway through, you get derailed by crying real tears about said feminine outfit, because now the boy who sits beside you in the orchestra will know that you are a girl (because your long hair and name clearly couldn't have tipped him off beforehand). could you draw on this experience to describe dysphoria, you wonder? or maybe that other time you cried in the shower? but that's bad and wrong, isn't it? because you're cisgender. so comparing your own... whatever this is... to dysphoria would be an APPROPRIATION of dysphoria! how villainously cis of you! how horrible! you'll have to figure out some other way to write this character.

...anyway. thank you to moon and augustus for that. my kings my brothers in arms. and they BOTH do arson in their respective WIPs, so maybe i have another plot twist in my future?

21. Free ramble card wee

FREE RAMBLE WEE... hmm, well, since i've already touched on it a little in this ask, one of the most interesting things about worldbuilding for godsong is that most of the major settings don't have homophobia/transphobia/misogyny the same way that our world does. (i say most because ambergris is stuck in misogynyville. it's probably fine and i bet she won't get violent.) i honestly didn't think super hard about this; i just wanted to write a high fantasy world where women and nonbinary people and bisexuals and lesbians can hold positions of (sometimes corrupt) power, or where the chosen one can be a transfemme lesbian whose issues aren't transphobia but how to complete her quest.

except then i realized that not having homophobia/transphobia/misogyny invites so many other questions about the social fabric of a society. i mean, the modern legal concept of marriage is rooted pretty solidly in heterosexual relationships wherein women move from one family to another, right? so if gender relations are entirely different, do these places even have marriage? do these places even have gender? this is something i'm still figuring out (and honestly, if anyone has suggestions for media that pokes at this kind of thing, i'd love to hear them!). the two main cities in godsong are ivander (a theocracy) and farria (a democracy with a new revolution every tuesday), and i've been playing around in my head with some of the differences--for example, in ivander, being trans is generally considered holy, because the city's patron god is many-gendered; in farria, being trans is something nobody thinks twice about, because everyone is focused on Just Getting By. in ivander, there are at least three defined genders (man, woman, and priest) which can all overlap. in farria, gender doesn't define social relations so much as a parallel hierarchy of military and/or governmental power--eg, farria's very own neopronouns marc antony isn't afraid of "emasculation" in the gender sense, because xir gender is "if you like me you're gay," but xe's terrified of emasculation (for lack of a better word) in the sense of being seen as weak/submissive. in farria these things are way less connected than they are in our world. i'm still working out a lot of the details, but it's been a lot of fun to think about :3

wow that sure was a free ramble. thank you for the asks rook i love you so much <3

(pride asks!)

[izzy-b-hands]

top 5 outfits you would like to put on izzy hands 👀

Ella!! Thank u and apologies for the late reply; I wound up letting this percolate over night bc I needed to Really Think on this one (aka I"d not thought overtly into this before and the Possibilities were all very good kdlsafdsajk) and then I took FOREVER yesterday putting together pics and AND THEN TUMBLR DELETED MOST OF IT ON ME LAST NIGHT and I had to take the rest of the night to mourn redoing the pics

But we're here now!!!!! finally!

Legally, I need Izzy in this outfit of Freddie's, at some point. They can fit it into the show whenever they think works best, but I do need This:

And I think you can see why 👀. (I'm gonna link the posts where I'm getting these pics from, this one links to this freddie pic, pls go check out the op blog and the blog I'm linking and give them some reblogs if u also love these pics)

2. Sticking with classic rock as a theme, there's this from Roger (aka I had so many from Roger and finally made myself choose just one lol):

(Post link)

3. While we're on this theme, Brian, I need u to let Izzy borrow all of this:

(Post link)

4. One of my fave fruity lil numbers from Marc:

(Post Link)

5. And this from Bob Geldof bc the orange sweater is big enough for sweater paws and. Grey Sweatpants. Very good combination:

(Post Link)

Elton John had some close runner up looks I almost put on this, I feel like should also be noted

[landhinlove]

The Don’t Worry Darling Premiere: A Summary

At the Venice Film Festival

FLORENCE BEING SO SASSY

Interviewer: “Your role is so inspiring”

Florence: “why is it inspiring?… I think it’s inspiring for a woman to say ‘no’ on and off camera”

They said she couldn’t make it to the press conference due to scheduling issues but she showed up 10 minutes after it started. The lead actress didn’t want to go to the press conference.

also these posts and the captions (Rebecca Corbin Murray is Florence’s stylist)

HARRY TAKING NOTHING SERIOUSLY

literally giggling at fans during the panel when Olivia was asked about the Shia and Florence controversy

this man did not answer a single question and he knows it (louis was spot on when he said “you do talk some shit in interviews” lmao)

Harry during the panel:

“Was that an answer? It was words.”

“what I like about acting is that I have no idea about what I’m doing”

“my favourite thing about the movie is that it feels like a movie”

During the interview with him and Chris Pine he went directly against what Olivia has said about the movie saying that it’s more misogynistic than feminist

NO ONE EXCEPT OLIVIA LOOKS LIKE THEY WANT TO BE THERE

Chris Pine is taking one for the team and being a neutral party (but still looking like he wants to leave). He was not asked many questions at all. Also he was the one to sit next to Olivia for everything

Gemma Chan was barely asked a question in the press conference and when she was she was reprimanded for being too quiet.

Harry doesn’t care at all about the panel, just talking and giggling with Gemma and the fans. He was asked the most questions of the actors and the only ones he gave a real answer for were about his fans and music

Obviously Florence doesn’t want to be there and wasn’t in the panel, but she’s also getting pushed to the side even though she’s literally the lead

REPORTERS WERE STOPPED FROM ASKING ABOUT THE SHIA AND FLORENCE THING

FLORENCE AND HARRY SLAYING WITH THE FITS

Harry giving Elton John energy with the glasses and just over all outfits. Or fruity Tony Stark.

Harry wearing a blue bandana during the press conference ;) (it’s technically a scarf but close enough)

Florence showing up in an adorable three piece purple shorts and blazer set (link)

Then she stole the show in the sparkly gown giving Marylin Monroe with the hair and diamonds

Also Gemma Chan is just one of the most gorgeous people to ever live and she slayed too of course because how could she not

Chris Pine and Nick Kroll hyped Florence up on the red carpet, taking pictures and acting like a proud dad

OLIVIA WAS IGNORED ON THE RED CARPET

Harry and Florence both went out of their way to hug everyone except Olivia, walking right past her. Neither of them talked to her, barely even looking at her

Harry stuck with talking to Gemma again, and flirting talking with Nick Kroll

When taking a picture with the whole cast, Harry’s as asked to stand next to Olivia and he refused. In this moment he also walked straight past her to fist bump Nick Kroll.

As they sat down for the movie she kept looking over trying to get Harry’s attention but he just stared straight forward or talked to Gemma

When the movie was over people only clapped for the actors, and all the actors were facing away from her and laughing with each other

Similar to Harry, Florence refused to make eye contact with Olivia when the movie audience was applauding her

HARRY AND NICK KROLL KISSED AFTER THE MOVIE. TWICE. LMAOOOOO

Olivia saw this happen and had a disgusted look on her face (link bc I can’t put any more pictures)

Edit: that not her reaction to the kiss sorry!!! Its after she was tried to get Harry’s attention and couldn’t

Also Harry and Nick 100% planned it. If you see the video they give each other a cheeky little look and go right for it. I am will to bet that Nick was like “you should just kiss me after because everyone will be expecting you to kiss her”

THE CLAPPING AFTER THE MOVIE WAS CUT SHORT BECAUSE FLORENCE LEFT

After about 3 minutes of clapping Florence started leaving and the rest of the cast followed. That’s a statement if I’ve ever seen one.

OLIVIA AND THE MOVIE ARE BEING EATEN ALIVE IN REVIEWS RIGHT NOW

(these are just a very few of the many examples)

Florence is praised for her performance, taking a bad movie and giving it her all

Harry is said to be sort of lost in the movie, not with terrible acting, just outshined by Florence’s performance. And yet it apparently still reads as a fan edit of Harry

The sex scenes that were so hyped up are supposedly very uncomfortable

So in conclusion the premiere was awkward and kind of a train wreck, as is the movie according to reviews. The actors in the movie showed up, slayed with the outfits, laughed with each other, didn’t answer a single question, not-so-subtly shaded Olivia and left.

[maggies-scribblings]

Yarning For Her

Adrien is smitten with the girl who's always been there, in the row behind him. But when his plans to ask Marinette out unravel, a secret throws him for a loop…

Written for the Miraculous Writer's Guild April Event 2021: Followers sent five emojis as prompts to the @mlwritersguild Tumblr for the writers to pick one to write for. I chose the emojis sent by @ladycat1: ✨ 😊 👀 👩🏻 🧵

Canon compliant up to Season 4, Episode 4: M. Pigeon 72.

👩🏻

It was finally happening. The event everyone was waiting for… well, everyone except the main protagonist of said event.

Marinette could feel it, though she could hardly believe it. She noticed Adrien looking at her with more intensity, when he thought she wasn’t looking. How he had trouble finding the right words when talking to her. All the tiny gestures of attention, like offering to help with a difficult subject or a complex art project, or praising her outfit every day, even if she’d worn it several times before.

Nino could tell, too: questions about Marinette and her favourite colour, food, flower, or whatever else were whispered in his right ear all day.

Actually, the whole class noticed Adrien’s marked change in behaviour. His cheerful hellos were now stuttered in Marinette’s general direction. His head hid on his shoulders whenever Marinette sighed or yawned, as if his neck couldn’t handle her fresh breaths. Even his athletic skills were now replaced with an unexplained jerkiness. The fact that the weather was warmer and the girls’ gym suits gave way to short shorts and strappy tops might have had something to do with it.

In short, Adrien fell in love with Marinette. Hard.

👀

When it started, Adrien couldn’t exactly tell. Ever since that first day of school, Marinette had held a special space in his heart (most of which had been stolen by Ladybug the previous day). She was one of his first and dearest friends.

But now… after getting to know Marinette, her loving and kind nature, after seeing her helping others without asking for anything back, after finally noticing how pretty she was… he wasn’t so sure.

That day at the pool was definitely a turning point.

First there was that unplanned double dive. During those milliseconds when they were falling, Adrien’s thought process went something like this:

Danger!—Why is Marinette here?—Protect!—Wow, she looks so cute in that swimsuit!

As they hit the water, their arms instinctively reached out to the other as they sank, swirling back up to the surface in a soft embrace — just like that night in New York, when they had danced floating in the air, under the full moon.

And when they were leaving the pool, Adrien was so happy and surprised to see she still had the umbrella he’d given her way back then! Sweet as always, she offered to give it back to him, even though it was raining and she had to walk home.

She was standing next to him (she linked her arm in his!) when that pesky umbrella decided to close on them, and they were pulled even closer for a few seconds. Very close. He could smell the chlorine in her hair mixed with the scent of sweets that always surrounded her. He thought he felt her heart beating faster and faster. Maybe it wasn’t. His heart certainly was. He could feel her warm breath through his shirt, and it drove him a little crazy.

When they said goodbye that day, he could hardly take his eyes off her. He even bumped his head on the car door frame. Ladies and gentlemen, here’s the charming, elegant model Adrien Agreste, unable to enter a car (come to think of it, he seemed to have a bit of a problem with doors whenever Marinette was around).

✨

The few weeks that went by did nothing to sort out Adrien’s feelings about the two black-haired girls in his life. His days were mortifying, his nights restless. On one such night, Adrien tossed and turned, but sleep wouldn’t come. The full moon and bright stars shining through the window frames painted his room with grid patterns, a constant reminder of his confined life.

Adding to that, his mind was racing with memories of his (now frequent) clumsiness and embarrassment at school. He recalled the fumble of the day: going into the classroom while trying to look cool, he managed to snag his bag strap on the door handle, causing him to jerk back and hit the ground on his butt in front of the whole class.

Adrien groaned and turned again. Worst thing was, he had no idea how she felt for him. She kept sending mixed signals. Her behaviour towards him wasn’t as weird as it had been, but that didn’t mean a lot. He’d even asked her a couple of times. He remembered the time they visited the wax museum, when she said she didn’t like him like that.

“What’s the matter, kid?” Plagg yawned from his side of the pillow, annoyed by his bearer’s restlessness. “Who is it this time? Spots or bakery girl?”

Adrien didn’t bite, going back into his musings instead.

His mind turned to Ladybug… These days, Spots occupied a much smaller part of his thoughts. He still got the occasional butterflies in his stomach when he saw her, or when she praised him and his humour. She would always be his first love, and not an easy girl to forget… but she was right, of course — she was always right — as long as they had enemies, they couldn’t reveal their identities, much less deepen their relationship. Back when Bunnyx first showed up, they found out that there would be a new Hawkmoth and countless akumas in the future, and who knew when that would end?

Plagg was still grumbling about sleep and cheese. Adrien playfully flicked his kwami’s ear.

“Shut up, Plagg! I’m trying to sleep!”

“Very unsuccessfully, I might say,” Plagg flew out of his reach. “You sighed four-hundred and fifty-eight times in the last hour.”

“Come on… can’t you see I’m in turmoil here?” Adrien turned his back to the kwami. It was no use arguing with a deity, no matter how minuscule.

“Four-hundred and fifty-ni—” Plagg’s teasing was interrupted by a pillow hitting him.

😊

This wouldn’t do. Adrien couldn’t stand his own indecisiveness any more. He decided to ask Marinette out, that very day. After a reviving shower, he got dressed and looked in the mirror. The dark circles around his eyes were evident, but he hated wearing concealer to school. He might as well add a couple of details to his usual get-up: a pair of Gabriel’s new collection sunglasses and his favourite blue scarf.

He arrived at school early, and while most of the class was either chatting in the courtyard or going into the classroom, Marinette was nowhere to be seen. Adrien went into the locker room, and lurked behind the last row of lockers while students got in, got their things and left.

Finally, the hurricane that was late-for-class-Marinette thundered in, scolding herself for oversleeping as she got her books for the morning. When she closed the door, there was Adrien, leaning against the cabinets with his best Chat Noir smirk as he looked over the rim of his sunglasses and greeted her.

“Good morn—”

He didn’t have time to finish his line, as a very startled Marinette squeaked and grabbed his free arm to spin him around and pin him to the lockers with an elbow to his throat.

It took a few moments for Adrien realise exactly what had happened, before she released her hold.

“I’m sorry, I… panicked,” Marinette said, as she stepped back and continued to gesticulate wildly and mumble more awkward apologies.

Still frozen in place, Adrien managed to adjusted his crooked sunglasses.

“Marin—” he had to clear his throat. “No, I— It’s o-ow!”

Adrien tried and failed to step forward, as he heard a ripping sound — his scarf was caught in Marinette’s locker, and the momentum slammed him back into the metal doors with a loud bang.

The proverbial stars that blurred his vision cleared up to show Marinette very close to him, fumbling with the lock to release the scarf.

“Sorry, so sorry, I’m such a klutz!”

“It’s okay, no harm do—”

Adrien stopped talking when he saw that the scarf had a large rip, disappointment obvious upon his face.

“Oh no!” Marinette covered her mouth as she saw the damage. “Your scarf! I ruined it!”

At this point, Adrien would usually smile and say something like ‘it’s okay’ or ‘no worries’, but he couldn’t lie: he really loved that scarf. It was his favourite colour, warm and cosy, yet light enough to wear on a spring day, and a rare thoughtful gift from his father. He pouted a little as his fingers traced the tear.

“I can fix it!”

He lifted his eyes to Marinette as she got on her tiptoes to unwind the scarf from his neck.

“I can make it look as good as new. I know you’re worried, after all it’s your dad’s birthday gift,” she rambled as she delicately folded it, “but I have leftover yarn— I mean, I think I have the same colour, and it’s a simple pattern.”

There was something odd about the way she worded that, but Adrien dismissed it. He must have made a weird face, because now she had a concerned expression.

“I mean, if you trust me with it… I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t after I destroyed it. ”

“No—I mean, don’t be silly, it was an accident… I shouldn’t have sneaked up on you like that!” He managed a relieved little smile. “Still, my father might be upset if he saw I ripped it. Are you sure you can fix it?”

Marinette’s eyes averted his for a moment, as she returned the folded up scarf.

“I’ll do my best! I’m not a pro like your father, but I’m sure I can make it as good as new in no time at all!”

They agreed to go to Marinette’s place after school so that she could start working on it right away, then ran off to class as the second bell rang.

Not exactly the way I planned it, Adrien thought as he scrambled onto his seat, but I guess it worked!

🧵

Adrien reclined in the chaise-longue and looked around Marinette’s bedroom. It was the total opposite of his, huge and aseptic and cold. On the contrary, these walls had warm colours and pictures everywhere, and it smelled amazing, fruity shampoo mixed with glue and ink from her many design projects, mixed with sweets from the bakery, and everything about it was so welcoming and cosy and so… Marinette.

“Yes!” Her delighted voice interrupted his reveries. “I knew I still had it!”

Adrien chuckled as he saw Marinette triumphantly holding a ball of light blue yarn, then get several needles from her yarn basket and sit at her sewing station to start working. He switched seats to her desk chair and rolled close to her.

“Can I help?”

“Sure! Let me just…”

Marinette picked up a long, thin knitting needle and started to thread it on the scarf, just above the tear. She was so concentrated and her movements so careful and precise, she might as well be defusing a bomb. Adrien noticed her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth and wondered what her kisses would taste like.

“There. I have the brakes on, now let’s get going.”

Marinette found the end stitch at the corner of the scarf and cut it. Giving Adrien the end of the yarn, she continued.

“Hold this. Make a ball while I unravel it.”

“Huh? Un-what?” Much as Adrien trusted her skills, he panicked. “Won’t you make it worse?”

“No, because I’m holding the knitting with this,” she pointed at the longer needle she had threaded through the scarf.

Marinette turned her chair, so they were sitting face to face, knees almost touching, and started to quickly unravel the bottom part of the scarf, while he rolled up the thread in a ball, both enjoying the comfortable silence. He noticed a small piece of fabric falling from one of the edges and bent down to pick it up.

“What’s this?” Adrien thought out loud while examining it.

As soon as Marinette lifted her eyes from her work and saw what he was holding, her eyes went wide and her cheeks red.

“Oh, it’s nothing—” she tried unsuccessfully to snatch the fabric from his hand. “Probably just the washing inst—”

It was not an ordinary washing instructions tag. It was tiny and had been woven into the knitting, so discreetly he’d never noticed it before. He turned the fabric over to see a recognisable signature.

Marinette

“Wait— you made this?” Adrien picked up the other end of the scarf from her lap and examined like he’d never seen it before. “Wha—? How? D-did my father buy it off your website?”

So that’s why she was so confident about fixing it. He searched Marinette’s face for an explanation, but she just shook her head and kept looking down, unravelling the loops one by one.

“No— of course not— your site wasn't set up back then, we only took those photos later…”

Adrien thought back to the time Nathalie handed him the present, neatly packed in a box with a ribbon. He’d never seen that kind of care in his father’s presents, just standard gift bags with expensive pens, straight from a corporate catalogue. His train of thought was broken by a couple of tears falling on his hands.

“Marinette…” he murmured, lifting her chin to look into her misty eyes. “Did you make this for me?”

She nodded with a tiny smile. He moved his hand from her chin to cup her cheek, wiping her tears with his thumb.

“Was this supposed to be your present for me?” Another nod. “How did this mess happen then?”

“I…” Marinette had to clear her throat and finally looked at him. Something in her eyes changed from avoidance to determination. “I wanted to give it to you personally, but I couldn’t gather the nerve… then one thing led to another, and I left it in your house, and I even signed it, but…” she shrugged.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just… couldn’t. You were so happy with the present from your dad. I couldn’t ruin it for you.”

Adrien made a mental note to find out exactly what had happened, then set all his negative feelings aside. His heart was too full of love to think about anything other than the girl in front of him.

“Oh, Marinette…” he softly chided as he hugged her. How could this girl be so selfless, on top of everything else? She cared for him, really cared for him, even back then. “I wish you’d told me.”

He released the hug and pulled her closer, into his lap. Marinette set the scarf on the sewing table and put her arms around his neck. Her tears were gone and a hint of a smile played on her lips.

“That way,” Adrien caressed her nose with his, “I would have thanked you properly.”

“Oh yeah?” Marinette breathed, her lips very close to his. “You can thank me now.”

They closed the distance between them, their lips melding into a sweet kiss, then another, and then a few more. Adrien’s heart was beating so fast he could hardly bear it. Then he remembered he should probably breathe at some point.

“Wow.”

“Wow.”

“If that’s the way you thank a person for a present, I’ll start giving them more often,” Marinette joked.

“Not anyone.” He pecked her lips. “Only you.”

They kissed again, this time more passionately. He kissed her eyes, the tip of her nose, her forehead, her neck, then back up to her lips…

The scarf was left forgotten on the sewing table. It could wait a few more hours before repairing.

Fin

Thanks to @hari-writes and @deinde-prandium for the beta read! ❤️

Constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated. English is not my first language and I tend to use UK English. If you catch any inconsistencies, please let me know.

My AO3. My Twitter. My Instagram.

[mxvladdy]

Ooh~ I got somewhat of an angst(/comfort -hopefully??) ficlette request!

Established relationship with Diavolo. He thinks everything is going great. Until one night MC tells him that he makes them feel inadequate.

He's so BIG (they are literally/physically so much smaller than him, man is IMPOSING) and it's not like they have demon stamina/strength. they're afraid he gets bored, or will, in time.

He is SO IMPORTANT to everyone and everything and always so busy and they're just a distraction when he could be resting between meetings or courting with the intent to make an heir and they're just a human, a pretty average one at that, can't even use their magic like Maddi or Solomon

*clutches my gay little heart* I'm weak for giant puppy boys 😢. I love this idea! Hope I did it justice! P.s-hope ya ain’t lactose intolerant like I am, cuz I got cheesy at the end lmaooooo

Edit: 6/15- Here is the link to part 2!

  You feel inferior or inadequate? No, not his little Giglio.

He doesn't see at first. He is observant, sure. It comes with the territory as a prince, but he is so blind when it comes to you.

You're perfect and he wishes your relationship to be just as perfect. He can't explain why. Somewhere deep in the vacuous pits of his hearts, he yearns for your happiness.

He courts you like any demon would. Showing off his strength and magic to a maddening degree. He will lay fresh kills at your feet for you too.

It makes demons and other creatures swoon, but not a great turn-on for humans it seems. Barbatos had to pull him aside several times to remind him that too much magic could kill you, and he was tired of getting blood stains out of the wood floors.

He just wants to prove he is enough to you too. He'll do more human courting rituals as time goes on. Taking you topside to eat at human restaurants or do quaint human traditions.

Even in your realm, he can’t get away from gawking and curious humans wanting to be in his presents. He has the magnetic pull only a devil could pull off.

He doesn't notice your reluctance to be seen with him or sullen attitude till it was almost too late.

Balls are a common occurrence for him. Keeps the royal families in check, strengthens ties, or, some unfortunate times cutting them down in a show of force and warning for the rest of them.

Diavolo doesn't hate these events. They come as easy as breathing to him after centuries of doing it. But the flocking, gawking, and borderline reverent guest did get stifling. Having you on his arm made it bearable. The courtiers at least gave him some distance. Where were you anyway?

The barest flicker of black and gold muslin catches the crown prince's eye. The expensive fabric flitting around the corner of the ballroom to the restricted section. He wasn't worried. Diavolo knew that outfit and the delectable scent of his most prized jewel that wore it. You were allowed anyway you wished. Though he wished you were on his arm right about now. Ah well-

He turns back to his compatriot nodding along politely at the dull topic and takes a sip from his flute. He hums delighted by the fruity dry drink. Honestly, he wasn't sure how many of these he had had anymore. But it was just as sweet and tangy as his first glass. The bubbles ticking his nose and the liquor make his head fuzzy and his stomach hot. Mmm... He would have to complement Barbatos after this was over. His experiments were simply divine. Diavolo excuses himself from his conversation partner politely. He needed another drink if he was going to have a chat as dry as that again and survive. Fresh drink in hand he scans the massive hall for you. You should have been back by now… Odd. Perhaps you had called it a night early? He can't blame you. The redundancy and boring pushes for political power did get old fast. Smiling into his bubbling glass he has half a mind to join you. Sleeping the night away with you in his arms? Hells, he just might trade the crown for a day for a bloody break.

"May I have this dance, your highness?" A petite little incubus bowed low, wrapping his tail around his leg respectfully. Diavolo blinked up from his glass. Ah, yes. The game wasn't done yet.

It takes another three hours of dancing and glad-handing before he could finally extract himself from the ballroom. His feet were sore and swollen in their tight leather confines, his formal attire becoming itchy with sweat. He was ready for bed. No, a hot bath, tea then bed. No. A hot bath with you, tea then bed. Yes, a perfect ending to make up for a sub-par party.

Your shared quarters were dark when he entered. The smoky smell of recently snuffled candles greets him as he slips in. He frowns. The outer chambers looked to be untouched. The hearth cold and empty of ash. Your evening outfit wasn't spewn over the lounge and floor like it normally would be after a ball.

You often retired early from these parties, but you always waited for him here. Nestled up in the furs in front of the fire. A warm welcoming smile ready to greet him as he enters. "My love?" Diavolo calls out to the empty room. He winces at how loud he was. Perhaps he had indulged in his cups a bit too much.

He cocks his head listening for the sounds of running water or your cute little snores. Perhaps you had already gone to sleep? Silence greets him. He begins to panic now. Were you some elsewhere in the palace? Had some oppositional little cretin tried to harm you? He knew some at his party tonight were vying for him to go back to the old ways. Eliminating you would be a prerogative to those fools.

No, Barbatos had his eyes everywhere tonight. The complex webbing of his magic was nigh impossible to circumvent. Diavolo could feel it crawling over his skin, though the feeling was fading now that he was in his private chambers. Lucifer and his brother were ever vigilant too at these parties. As much as they bickered and annoyed his other guest they were skilled watchdogs, and keeping you safe was a top priority to all of them.

He reaches out through the shadows of his chambers searching for you frantically. His magic bleeds into every corner of his large private rooms. The vice around his chest lessens when he senses you on the private balcony. He goes to you, shrugging off his collars and chains as he moves, leaving a forgotten trail of priceless treasure behind him. "Darling," he breathes a sigh of relief seeing your silhouette in the light of his realms many moons. "Was the party not to your liking?" Diavolo flops onto your shared bed with a groan of pleasure. His feet now happy to not have his weight on them anymore. He runs his fingers through the vast expanse of cold silk. It wakes him up slightly. "Perhaps I can make it up to you? I can think of quite a few things more pleasurable than a swarm of stuffy demons."

"You’re drunk Dia." You don't move to face him. Your eyes still upcast to look at the clear evening sky.

His head lolls to the side to watch you curiously. You can feel his eyes follow the trail of your hands while you stroke at the marble railing. His family crest glistening on your finger. "No, no, not drunk. Tipsy perhaps? Or is the word ‘buzzed’ more appropriate?" He chuckles. "Perhaps you could sober me up with a kiss? You always know how to make me feel amazing."

Your breath catches at his words. A pathetic little sob escaping you. He is sober now. Instead of a warm kiss alighting his muddled thoughts to bring the world back into sharp beautiful clarity, it feels as if he had been submerged in ice. He approaches you with inhuman speed. His clawed fingers were gentle on your shoulders.

He turns you to face him. Crystalline tears were trapped in your lashes. Your cheeks were ruddy and your lips were swollen.  In any other circumstance, such a visage would be a privilege to see. But these tears were cold and filled with pain. Lips red hot not by his kisses and fangs, but from nervous chewing and pulling. Your cheeks were streaked and puffy from countless hours spent alone and crying.

"Giglio mio, cosa ti affligge?" He cups your cheeks rubbing the chill away from your skin.

"Why- why do you even waste your time with me?" You hiccup.

“I don’t understand.”

You part from him, backing up to the railing. “What do you see in me?”  You ask, arm raised in question. He takes in your body. You were adorned in his colors and his scent, it makes the territorial part of him rumble in satisfaction. Your delicate human flesh radiates a warmth demons could never replicate. You were small, sweet, and his. What was he missing? “What will happen when you find someone better? Someone who will- who can grow old alongside you. A demon or witch, strong and talented.”

Your wavering words don’t register with him. How could you say these things? Did you think he would allow you to grow old without him? You were his, just as he was yours, or as much as he is able of being yours. It was a laughable thought but he knew to hold his tongue. Humans always get in a tizzy about death.“I don’t-” He starts ready to brush your concerns away. The flash of his perfect teeth only angers you.

“Do not play dumb with me!” You say jabbing a finger at his bare chest. “Look at you. Think of who you are compared to me. Look at how they all cling to you, all those pretty demons and witches with something to offer you.”

Something better than me.

The words hang unspoken between you and leave him stunned. He had so much he wished to say but knew tonight was an inopportune time. Your emotions were running high, too high for him to successfully navigate. Especially in his compromised state. He would have to admit defeat tonight. “I am sorry if I have neglected you and your feelings. Please, let's go to bed. I want- I need to understand. But-”

“You’re drunk.” You repeat chuckling without humor. You wipe at your face. “I get it. We’ll talk in the morning?”

Diavolo puts a hand to his chest. “Of course. You will have all my time tomorrow.”

You wake alone the next morning, the sheets beside you cool but not made. You expected that though. He was never one to stay in bed even on the rare days off. It was the downside of his status and routine.

You rise alone and head to the bathroom, the gargantuan space was still slightly warm and steamy. Good, that means you didn’t wake up too much later than Dia. You shower quickly, washing away the grime of lasts night’s nervous breakdown. You were so embarrassed, collapsing all over Diavolo in jealous self-pity. He had more important things to deal with than some weepy human.

You need to go find him and apologies, tell him not to worry about it. You knew what being courted by him would entail. You swore up and down you could handle it, and you could. You will. This was the worst time to falter too he had some pressing deadlines and important figureheads coming around this week. Even one loose gear in his well-oiled machine could damage any number of things. You refused to be the reason he failed. Steeling yourself, you dress quickly, determined to put your new plan in motion. Apologize, promise to do better, and then hide at R.A.D until you could face him again.

It doesn’t take you long to find your demon. He had been waiting for you. You enter the den in a flurry of movement phones in hand to check with Lucifer to see where the prince might be. “Join me?” His deep baritone makes you jump in alarm. Your phone flies out of your hands to clatter loudly on the tile floor.

Diavolo sits, sprawled out on his couch. His favorite terry cloth robe is tied loosely around his broad figure. He watches you with a growing frown, his strong jaw perched on his fist. You freeze. “Please?” He offers you his free hand. You take it timidly. He grasps you firmly and lifts you effortlessly onto his lap. You rest your head on his strong chest. He smells of juniper berries and oranges. Bright, fresh, and sharp. Their combined scents mixing with his natural musk put you at ease. The clenching panic around your heart easing slightly. You eye the breakfast layout before the two of you on the low coffee table. The banquet was still untouched though you do not know how long Dia had been sitting here. You felt the tiny pulses of magic radiating off the table.

“To keep it warm,” Diavolo answers your unspoken question. He moves you in his lap so he can reach for a plate. Filling it to the brim with an assortment of pastries and warmed jams he hands it to you before filling his coffee cup. “I didn’t know how long you wished to sleep.”  

You take the plate meekly. “I-thank you.” You eat in relative silence, eyes locked down on the treccia slowly disappearing on your plate. You were too nervous to look at Diavolo. “When do you have to get back to work?” You ask.

“I don’t-” He adds a hefty dollop of heavily whipped cream to his coffee. “I took the day off.” Your heart drops.

“I’m sorry.”

“Giglio.” Diavolo sighs heavily. He puts his coffee aside to cradle you. “Never be sorry for needing time.” His large hands rest over your thigh and shoulder. “I promised we would talk today, and I am nothing but a devil of my word.” He kisses your crown, his thumbs rubbing your skin comfortingly. “Tell me your worries.”

“What do you see in me?” You blurt out looking up at him. “What could you ever see in a human that you couldn’t get from someone closer to your stature?”

“You have something no other being has ever had before.” He answers effortlessly. He had thought about this time and time again in private. He had lost count of the nights spent in his study stewing over this very topic. You captivated him in a way he still couldn’t fully comprehend.

You scoff at the nonanswer. “What? A soul?”

Diavolo sucks his teeth in distaste. Your voice was so bitter. “Do you think I don’t have a soul?” He counters, smiling ruefully down at you.

“Do you?” You are genuinely curious. Satan had been very upfront with the fact that he didn’t and he was a full-blooded demon. When you had asked Barbatos he had just shrugged. 

Diavolo looks wistful for a moment. Golden eyes glazing over as he gets lost in thought. “Who knows?” He admits. “Souls are a precious commodity, true. But such things mean very little to me when it comes to you. No, the thing you have is my trust. You came here with nothing and expected nothing of me but a safe and successful exchange program. There was no social climbing or cloak and daggers with you- or perhaps you are so skilled I cannot see it!” His chuckle shakes you both. “I feel as though you do not see me as just a prince, yet you still respect the title, the authority, and the customs that come along with it. You see what I have to offer and don’t ask for more than I can give you.”

“What will happen when you find that I no longer do that for you? When someone else could do it better and give you eternity along with it?” His words bring you hope, but hope did little when you knew the inevitable outcome.

“Why would I look when I am more than happy where I am?” He dodges your question. He would cross that bridge and bear that cross when you find out on your own.

“But-”

He hushes you with a flurry of kisses across your face, dipping low over you. You squeak as he dangles you precariously over the side of the leather couch. “Come, eat with me.” He says between kisses. “Enjoy a day away from the prying eyes of scorned socialites. Let me show you how devoted I am.” He releases you to pick up a piece of bruschetta. Popping it into his mouth with a groan of satisfaction he turns back to the cooling food, his jovial mood returning. You huff, flicking off a stray bit of diced tomato from his chin.

“Fine- as long as you let me help you catch up on all the work you're missing tomorrow.”  

[kindahoping4forever]

I Want Your Midnights // Ashton Irwin

Happy 2021 everyone! Thank you to everyone who feverishly (yet politely) requested a follow-up to Under The Christmas Lights; those holiday fics were really fun but kind of a lark and I didn’t expect that any of them would get that kind of reaction! I hope this continuation lives up to your expectations. 

Big, big thanks to @cal-puddies​​ for setting me back on the right path more than once while I was writing this - I honestly gave up about halfway through and she (lovingly) refused to let me give up so if you enjoy reading this, it’s because of her tbh.  

Warnings: Equal parts fluff, banter and smut, mentions of quarantine, frantic resolution of sexual tension, protected sex within a new relationship, references to consensual voyeurism, masturbation and oral sex on a male, oral sex performed on a female, discussion of and use of sex toys, single joking use of the word “Daddy”

Word Count: 5675

Hoe For The Hoe-lidays Masterlist

Masterlist // Taglist and Ko-Fi linked above

Let  me  know  what  you  think!

11:29pm, December 30

“So we really overestimated our self-control skills tonight, didn’t we?”

Ashton laughs raspily at your comment, the sound travelling from your phone speaker straight down your spine, giving you chills. You prop your head up on your pillow, gazing towards the direction of your window, towards his bedroom window, a sight you’d become quite accustomed to these past few nights.

You’ve talked to Ash everyday since your feelings for each other became obvious and ever since your Christmas encounter when your intentions for those feelings became explicit, you’ve spent your nights engaging in some sort of mutual self-pleasure either via text, phone call or window watching.

Tomorrow the quarantine you both agreed to will be over and you'll safely celebrate New Year's Eve together; earlier, the two of you decided you should forgo your nightly socially distanced rendezvous in the interest of building anticipation for your imminent in-person one. But you were already in bed when Ashton called to ask if there was anything he should bring tomorrow and one suggestive comment led to another and before you knew it, your hand was between your legs yet again.

“It’s my fault, I asked what kind of chips you wanted me to bring, I should’ve known that would get you hot and bothered,” he jokes, the sound of him pulling tissues from the box on his nightstand now a familiar tune to your ears.

“Pretty goddamn slutty of you, honestly,” you laugh giddily.

“Can’t imagine what you would’ve done had I asked if I could bring soda as well,” he cracks himself up.

You giggle, “Ohhh, listen, if you talk Dr. Pepper to me, I’ll have no choice but to break quarantine and have my way with you right now.”

“Explain how that’s supposed to deter me from the subject,” he teases. You hear his sheets rustling and know he’s settling back into bed. He exhales loudly before admitting, “I’m nervous for tomorrow.”

"Aww, why? It’s just me… just us.”

Ashton is quiet for a beat before answering. “I think part of it is it’s been a long time since I’ve had something to look forward to,” he ponders. “But also… I can’t remember the last time I wanted something… someone… this badly.”

Your heart feels like it skips a beat, like it always seems to around him, since the day you moved in over a year ago. “It’s gonna be good, Ash,” you quietly reassure him, reassure yourself. “We’re gonna be so good.”

10:45am, December 31

You wash your breakfast dishes in record time, focused on all you need to do to finish your work day and get ready for tonight; it’s only when you’re drying your hands that you mindlessly glance up and notice the sight before you.

You look up just as Ashton, midway through his daily workout, is reaching to peel off his white tee that’s mostly soaked through; you find yourself staring as his muscles flex, tighten and relax again as he pulls the material off his body and then uses the discarded shirt to wipe the sweat running down his chest and neck.

He takes a swig from his water bottle before he starts up again and you hear yourself audibly gulp as he bends and stretches, giving you the opportunity to admire his ass and thick thighs in his athletic leggings. You watch his body and lose yourself in thoughts of him hovering above you, moving over you the way he's moving over his mat on the deck.

The alarm on your phone set to remind you to clock back into work snaps you out of your lusty daze. You silence the noise and then quietly cackle to yourself as you type out a text to Ash: “Watching you stretch is really making me look forward to the stretch I’ll be feeling tonight.”

You hang by the window, waiting to see his reaction. He reads your message and a self-satisfied smirk spreads across his face; he looks towards your kitchen, hoping to catch a glimpse of you in all your surely flushed glory, but you’re already gone.  

4:07pm, December 31

Despite your mind's best efforts to distract you with wild thoughts about tonight, your work day finally ends and you head upstairs to get dressed. You stand in front of your closet, weighing your wardrobe options when your phone's text chime sounds out.

You scoop it off the bed, clicking on a message from Ashton reading, "If you need suggestions, you could wear your green dress… I’ve been thinking about taking that off of you for a while now.”

You shake your head at how instantly your heart speeds up once that image is in your mind. You bound over to the window to find him standing in front of his, waving with a cheeky grin on his face. You greet him by holding up the dress he mentioned in one hand and your middle finger in the other. “No spoilers” is your texted reply as you pull your curtains closed for the first time in weeks.

5:10pm, December 31

The doorbell rings and you’re shocked you can hear it over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears; you make yourself count to ten before you answer it. You take a deep breath and turn the knob, opening the door to reveal Ash beaming at you excitedly; one look at him and you feel any nerves that were nagging at you dissipate.

“Hey neighbor,” he greets you with a chuckle.

It takes you a beat before you realize you can reply with more than the shy wave you’re used to and you step forward to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. You breathe him in, grateful to finally decipher the scent you’ve caught occasional wafts of over the fence and have spent so long trying to pin down. It’s sweet, spicy, woodsy and fruity all at once; you can’t wait to have it all over you by the end of the night.

You pull back to study him, it’s the first time you’ve really gotten to look at him up close and he’s stunning. You never noticed his dark hair was dyed but now you see the light roots at his hairline, softening his face; some stray curls have fallen out of place and you sweep them aside, revealing the laugh lines crinkling around his eyes as he smiles at you. His eyes are deep pools of hazel you already feel yourself drowning in and his cheeks are much rounder than you realized, growing bigger the more he grins at you. His lips… well… his lips look soft and shapely and suddenly you feel like you might die if you don’t taste them this instant.

You place your hands on either side of his face, running your thumbs over his beard before closing the gap and pressing your mouth to his. It’s everything and nothing like you’d imagined your first kiss would be: soft, slow, cautious yet undeniably heated. You feel his tongue slide over your bottom lip and you allow him to deepen the kiss; he murmurs as your tongue connects with his for the first time and he pulls away to check in with you.

You offer him a sweet smile that quickly turns into something more frisky. “I think we can do better than that, we’ve spent the past week listening to each other cum,” you tease.

Ashton smirks at you, stepping inside; in one swift motion, he kicks the door shut behind him and scoops you in his arms, backing you up against it, lips crashing into yours. Suddenly it’s like your mouths can’t move fast enough, feverishly trying to make up for lost time. You kiss him like you’re trying to commit his taste to memory and maybe you are.

He breaks away to mouth over your neck, immediately licking and kissing over the parts of your skin his beard scratched moments before; you run your hands through his curls, marveling at the fact that’s something you’re allowed to do now. His mouth ends up sucking over a spot behind your ear that’s such a specific turn on for you, your mind races to remember if you told him that during one of your phone sessions or if he just knew. He bites down a little and you cry out, pushing him back, ready for more.

You slot your lips with his again, already missing his taste on your tongue. You walk him backwards as you kiss, trying desperately to lead him to the nearest surface, any surface where you can get him between your legs.

You make it to your desk at the other end of the living room and you thank your past self for taking the time to put away your work from earlier, although it would’ve been fun to see Ash do the cliché “impassioned arm sweep” to clear it. You hop up on the edge and spread your legs, pulling him close, needing as much of him on you as possible.

Ash groans when your hips move against his and you grin at the feeling of his cock straining against his pants, brushing over your clothed heat. “Hard for me already, eh?” You tease, biting at his lower lip.

He gives a lighthearted scoff. “Please, I’ve been hard for you since I saw you in this dress through the window before I walked over here,” he rasps, gliding his hands up and down your body in the form-fitting outfit to illustrate his point. “You look incredible, by the way.”

You rut against him again and you both moan. “God, I can’t wait any longer, Ash, I need you,” you rush out, breathless.

“Yeah?” He checks, looking over your face, noting the desperation in your eyes. “I have a - ”

“Yeah, please, Ash, fuck,” you pant, out of your mind with desire.

He kisses you hurriedly as his hands skillfully slide under your dress and tug your panties down your legs, setting them aside; he reaches to retrieve a condom out of his coat pocket. It briefly crosses your mind how absurd it is that he’s still wearing his coat and you’re about to move to help him out of it but then he’s pulling his cock out and you can’t focus on anything other than getting your hands on him.

You give him a feather light squeeze before starting an agonizingly slow rhythm on his shaft and reaching down to cup his balls like you’ve seen him do; he’s as thick and heavy in your hand as you imagined and you feel yourself becoming wetter with every stroke. He brushes your hands aside so he can roll the condom on and you capture his lips in a lusty kiss because you’re not sure what else to do.

One of Ashton’s hands cradles your head as you kiss him, the other trails between your thighs and starts teasing your clit; he murmurs into your mouth when he feels how wet you are, how after just a few touches, you’re already rocking into his hand. He breaks the kiss to push your skirt up over your waist so you can both watch as he lines himself up at your entrance. He glances at you and with your eager nod of approval, he starts pushing in.

You inhale sharply at the sensation and he pauses, eyes darting up to yours. “No, it’s good, more,” you insist, hooking your legs around his waist. He continues to slide in and you feel your eyes roll back, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. It's obviously been a while since you've had anyone inside you but the fact that it's Ash and the size of him… what a way to get back in the game.

He groans as he starts moving in you, slowly at first, eyes trained on your face to make sure you’re comfortable. You pull him into a kiss that’s all tongue, tangling your hands in his hair, needing to feel as much of him as you can in this moment. You've started moving along with him, your body asking for more, so he carefully lays you back on the desk, gripping onto your thighs so he can ramp up his pace.

The sound of his hips hitting yours, your clothes rustling together and your intertwined grunts and moans of encouragement for each other fill the living room. He lets go of one of your legs so he can move his hand back down to your clit and as he rubs circles on it, you curse under your breath, stunned you already feel as undone as you do.

"I'm already close," you whisper, gripping his arm as he leans in, bracing himself on his hands on either side of you.

"First of many tonight," he smirks, trying to maintain his sexy cool demeanor but failing as you both burst into giggles at his remark. He lightly encourages you, "Tell me what you need."

You squeeze your clothed breasts and use your legs to bring him even closer to you. "Hard. Just. Hard," you pant.

Ash growls, grabbing your legs again, pushing them up towards your chest, fingers digging into your skin as he thrusts with force. You cry out at his renewed vigor, at the change in angle making him somehow feel even thicker and longer inside you. You bring your hand to your clit and it only takes a few seconds of pressure for your breath to catch and your body to start shaking.

"Ash… fuckfuckfuckfuck oh my god," you breathe, pawing at the collar of his coat, your back arching up off the desk as your orgasm crests.

You're not sure if he was holding off waiting for you to finish or if the intensity of your body climaxing around him does him in but Ashton follows you over the edge less than a minute later. He gasps your name as he cums like you've heard him do many times over the phone but hearing him say it as he hovers above you, knowing your pussy is the reason for his pleasure is a different experience entirely.

He collapses on you briefly and you revel in the tactile experience: his lips pressing gently against your neck as he comes down, the texture of his wool coat under your fingertips as you rub his back, the unexpectedly satisfying scratch of his beard on your skin.

Ashton's lips travel back up to yours in an unhurried, relaxed kiss before he pushes himself back over you, joking, "We've really got to work on that impulse control thing, don't we?"

7:52pm, December 31

The two of you enjoyed a nice dinner comprised of delicious food and compatible conversation; you’ve talked a lot over the past few weeks but being able to finally be so close, being able to touch his arm when he says something sweet, feel his laughter vibrate the wood of your table - there’s an air of normalcy and domesticity that wasn’t there before. It’s nice, almost like there aren’t strange global circumstances that led to this evening, like you haven’t been basically dating from a distance.

You stand up to clear the table and when you reach for his plate, he grabs your hand and pulls you into his lap, hugging you tight and thanking you for inviting him over. He helps you carry the dishes to the kitchen because of course he does and when he stands at the sink to rinse them, you wrap your arms around his waist and press your face into his back, because that’s something you've always wanted to do.

You move to the living room, coffee mugs in hand but they’re soon forgotten with the return of Ash’s lips to your neck and your hands in his hair. You’re not in the hurry that you were earlier so everything feels much more relaxed; you’re able to appreciate the little things more, like the way he hums into your kiss when you brush his hair behind his ears, the quick pecks he sneaks in as he’s pulling out of a long liplock with you.

He finally undresses you, laying you gently on the couch in your underwear. “For someone who said they’d been waiting to get me out of that dress, sure took you a while,” you tease, gasping as his hands massage your breasts through the lace you’re wearing and his mouth peppers kisses over your stomach.

“Looked too good, wanted to enjoy it a little longer,” he smoothly replies, hooking his thumbs in your panties, glancing up at you to make sure it’s okay for him to continue. You nod, lifting your hips to aid the process. He kisses his way back up your legs, beard dragging across your skin, murmuring, “Something else I’ve waited too long to do…” before pressing a series of wet kisses directly over your clit.

You squirm against his face, eager for him to get into it but Ashton seems determined to take his time, slowly teasing up and down your lips, moving over to nip at your thighs and then returning to your pussy, tongue lavishing attention everywhere except where you want him most.

You’re just about to speak up when his fingers spread your lips apart and his tongue starts fluttering at your clit, causing you to suck in a breath instead. “God, Ash, yes, like that,” you encourage, fighting to keep your eyes open so you can watch him work. It feels so much better, looks so much more erotic than you ever could’ve imagined.

His mouth remains attached as he slips a finger inside you; the way your hips start grinding against him tells him when you’re ready for another and you moan as his tongue and fingers find an alternating rhythm to please you.

You paw at your tits, pinching your nipples through your bra as he works you. He pulls off to catch his breath, pushing himself up near your face to check in. “This working for you?” He asks, panting.

You affectionately swipe over what you thought was sweat on his beard, groaning at the realization it’s actually moisture courtesy of you. “Are you fucking kidding me, dude?” You laugh. “The other night I came thinking about you doing this and it’s already better than both the fantasy and the toy I used.”

He grins with pride. “Good,” he winks at you before diving back in.

Ashton eats your pussy with confidence, attentively listening to your sounds to determine what you like best. It’s when he sets one of your legs over his shoulder, angling your hips up slightly, that you start sounding really desperate and he smirks to himself. “Aww, ready to cum already? I was just getting started,” he taunts playfully.

You let out a guttural moan at his remark, gripping his hair a little bit rougher, holding him to your body a little bit tighter. He grabs on to your hips as they try to speed up and you murmur incoherent praise as you cum on his tongue.

He continues to lick at you, cleaning you until you push him away, clamping your legs shut. He massages over your thighs tenderly before moving up to kiss you. With a twinkle in his eye, he asks, “So what other fantasies of yours can we best while I'm here?”

9:24pm, December 31

After an enthusiastic but quicker than either of you would’ve preferred blowjob on the couch, you and Ash end up back in the kitchen, ready for a snack. You giggle to yourself as you stand in just his shirt, digging through your kitchen junk drawer, searching for a rubber band to help grip the jar of nacho sauce neither of you seem to be able to open.

“It’s not funny, how humiliating that I’m showing such weakness on our first date,” he jokes through gritted teeth, trying his hardest to turn the lid.

You grin, enjoying the show of Ashton clad only in his boxers, pouting as he loses the battle against a jar of cheese sauce. “Yes, you’ve fed me, done my dishes and made me cum twice since you’ve been here but I clearly still need you to prove your worth as a mate to me,” you smirk, passing him the rubber band you discovered. “Although I have to say, if you want to keep trying to open that yourself, I don’t hate watching those tattoos dance while you struggle.”

He laughs sarcastically as he fits the band over the lid and effortlessly pops it open seconds later. “Easy, I don’t know why you were so worried,” he giggles loudly before he even finishes his sentence.

He begins pouring the cheese over the chips you set out and you slide yourself under his free arm, fitting easily into his side. “New Year’s resolution, you clearly need to work on your upper body strength,” you tease, playfully biting at his shapely bicep.

He snorts, smiling as he passes you the plate of food to put in the microwave. He leans against the counter, observing you fondly while he wonders out loud, “Are you a New Year’s resolutions person?”

You move to get the other toppings out of the fridge; you stop and think before passing him the goods. “I mean, I’ll make them but I never really follow through. It’s like after the first week or so it just kind of slips my mind... maybe I’m making the wrong resolutions, I guess.” You shrug, setting the heated plate on the counter. “You?”

Ash shakes his head, hopping up on the counter so he can easily look at you and dress the nachos at the same time. “I never really understood why the calendar resetting is supposed to be this all-powerful impetus for change. If you want to do something, you should just do it no matter what the date is,” he says passionately, with furrowed brow.

You nod, pouring two glasses of soda. “It’s important to make goals but the rigidity of a resolution kind of just chains you to one thing when the whole point of a new year is that you don’t know what it will bring," you point out. "I think that's what's slipped me up before. Instead of saying 'I'll work out five days a week' I should be saying 'I want to live healthier.' It shouldn't be about the thing, it should be about the change you want to see."

You notice he's gone quiet and you look up at him inquisitively. You find him gazing at you, enchanted. "I agree," he reassures you. "I was just enjoying hearing you talk about it."

You feel your cheeks get warm and you pause to take a sip to collect yourself. "What I do like about New Year’s is the opportunity to reflect on the year you’ve had and let that inform what your next year will be like," you share. "So. What's one thing you didn't do this year that you wish you had? And not something because of quarantine, that's a copout."

Ashton doesn't hesitate to say, "I wish I had gotten to know you sooner."

10:53pm, December 31

You chuckle at Ash's wide-eyed interest, “No, I haven’t used that one to get off with you yet.” You take the thick blue dildo from his hands and smack it on the headboard of your bed, yanking on it to demonstrate the suction cup. “It’s more of a shower toy… or sometimes I’ll stick it to one of my chairs and ride it.”

His cock twitches with interest and he absentmindedly gives it a subtle squeeze. “Well we’re gonna put a pin in that, I guess,” he mutters, peering back into the drawer. “Also I like that you said ‘yet.’”

You smile widely at him, enjoying his enthusiasm. You’d finally made it to bed and were getting ready to ride him but when you opened your bedside table to grab a condom, your toy collection caught his attention and curiosity took over; you’ve spent the last five minutes watching him eye your toys, eagerly asking which ones you’ve used during your phone conversations with him.

He jumps as a pink contraption he doesn’t recognize starts to rumble out of his grasp with the push of a button. You giggle and reach over, unfolding it, placing the top portion of it over the back of his hand. “I used this one last night,” you admit, clicking the second button, watching his jaw drop as he feels the toy start lightly sucking at his skin.

“You’ve definitely had a much more fun quarantine than me,” he laughs, shaking his head in disbelief as he turns up the settings of the vibe. “What do you even need me here for?”

“You’re a lot nicer to talk to,” you say sweetly, leaning in to give him a playful kiss.

“I also would’ve accepted ‘your cock is much bigger, Daddy,’” Ash deadpans. He waits a beat before bursting into loud laughter, clarifying, “I’m totally kidding.”

“Well we’re gonna put a pin in that, I guess,” you tease, reaching down to lightly give him a few strokes. “Although I don’t know if I can say that first part, you haven’t seen my other drawer… I’m totally kidding.”

He scoffs, kissing you hard, placing his hands on either side of your ass and moving you closer to him. ”What’d you do with that condom?”

You pat around the bed for a few seconds, triumphantly holding up the stray package you found lost in the sheets. You roll the condom on him while he continues rifling through your belongings. “This is cute,” he declares, rolling a purple bullet vibe across his fingers. “And tiny. We could probably use this right now, huh?”

You raise your eyebrows, surprised but impressed at his openness. “Yeah, if you want, that’d actually be great,” you agree.

He beams at you, tossing you the vibrator while he settles back against the pillows; you set it aside and sling your leg over him, leaning in to kiss him thoroughly. You lean your forehead against his as you line yourself up over his cock and start rolling your hips back and forth, teasing the both of you by running your pussy over him; you watch him bite his lip, not sure whether to cry out from pleasure or object in frustration. Finally, you reach to guide him inside you. You take him a little easier than last time but the stretch is still deliciously intense and Ash can see it on your face. He plays with your tits while you adjust, watching you closely to see what you like.

You eventually start moving, lightly bracing yourself on his chest as you get going; you set a moderate speed, eager to let him fill you but cautious of trying to pace yourself, trying to pay attention to what he seems to respond to. You switch from rocking to a bouncing motion after a couple minutes and his hands move to squeeze your hips, helping you along; you notice his eyes haven’t left your breasts since you started moving like this and you whimper, running your hands down your front, stopping to pinch and play as needed.

Ashton's hands soon replace yours again and you arch your back, allowing him easier access. He gives a low groan, you’re giving him such a show, he’s not sure where to look. You’re leaned back and bracing yourself on his thighs, hard nipples jutting out, begging for attention; you expertly work your bodies together and he finds himself hypnotized watching his cock disappear inside you over and over again.

You love how he’s staring at you; it’s making you feel wanted and bold and you decide to tease him a little. “Working so hard to take all this cock, does it look as good as it feels?” You murmur, lifting yourself off almost entirely and then sliding back down on him with ease. “You like watching me fuck you?”

A growl escapes his lips and his hands roam your body wildly. “Doing so good… look so fucking good riding me,” he says, voice rasping with desire. “Better than I ever imagined.”

He feels the overwhelming need to make you moan for him and he sneaks his hand between your folds; you jolt at the contact, letting out a yelp and he smiles at his victory. He reaches over and grabs the vibe, tapping your leg to ask if you’re ready. You answer with a breathy “uh-huh” as you continue riding him.

He clicks the button, setting it to the lowest speed and presses it to your clit to gauge your reaction; you shift your rhythm, slowing to allow yourself to feel the new stimulation. You lick your lips, mumbling, “Oh, that’s nice,” as you grasp his hand to move the toy over just a bit until you’re moaning outright.

Ash holds the vibe on you for a bit longer until you sit up to change position. After a short spell of trial and error, he slips the bullet between your bodies and you help him once again fit it against you until it’s giving you the kind of stimulation you need. You roll your hips a few times, testing the setup and within seconds you’re whining, his cock hitting inside you in just the right place and the vibrations making you squirm above him.

He runs his hands up and down your thighs, watching you work yourself on him, using his body and your vibrator to build your climax; he gently rocks up into you, not wanting to disrupt you but between your movements and the stray buzzing of your bullet, he’s starting to become overwhelmed himself.

“Ash! Fuck… good… fuck,” you mutter, falling forward, place your arms on either side of his head to prop yourself up as you keep fucking him. “Close. God, I’m so close. Please.”

He recognizes that tone of desperation in your voice and knows just what to say to help you over the edge. “Fuckin’ me so good… ‘bout to make me cum for you… need to feel you cum around me first,” he wraps his arms around your back, panting in your ear. “Come on, baby, you deserve it.”

Your breathing speeds up and you whine his name as you start to pulse around him, losing your rhythm, clawing at his shoulders. He holds you as you cum, riding it out until you can’t take it anymore and you reach between you, throwing the vibrator across the bed, not even bothering to shut it off.

Ashton chuckles softly at your frenzied action and notices what looks like a wince as you rock yourself lightly on him. “Hey, I can finish another way if this is too much for you,” he offers.

You shake your head vigorously. “No, it still feels good,” you tell him insistently. “I’m just tired. Maybe you could…”

He gathers your meaning and pulls you down into a sloppy kiss before you move your mouth to his neck, slowly sucking to leave a mark, humming as his beard scrapes your skin; he grips your ass tightly with both hands and starts fucking up into you. He begins cautiously, wanting to make sure you’re still feeling good and as the noises pouring from your lips reassure him that you are, he increases his speed, thrusting up with force.

Your moans blend together in perfect harmony until yours trail off as you lose your breath; before you know what’s happening, you feel yourself cumming again and hard. You bury your face in Ash’s neck, hands tugging roughly at his hair. Feeling you squeeze around him again and with such intensity is enough to set him off and with a few loud grunts, he’s filling the condom.

He sighs deeply, rubbing your back as the two of you come down; your breathing falls into a synchronized rhythm and you bask in how nice it feels just to lay with him for a minute.

"Well that was something," he comments, pecking the top of your head as he helps you off of him, laying you on your pillow.

You quickly pull him back in, planting a quick kiss on his lips before he gets out of bed. "No, you are," you coo.

12:39am, January 1

"Ash… Ash… we missed it," you laugh softly, pressing kissing along his collarbones until his eyes flutter open.

"Huh?"

"We fell asleep and missed midnight," you explain with an amused smile. "Happy New Year."

He lifts his head up, looking around the room in confusion. After you’d both cleaned up, you climbed back in bed, intending to relax and chat until it was time to watch the midnight countdown on TV. Evidently, once the cuddles started, exhaustion from the night's activities overtook you both and you awoke to the sound of fireworks going off in the neighborhood.

"Oh," he frowns, rolling on his side to face you. "Well. Happy New Year." He leans in and gives you a soft kiss that easily could turn into more but you pull back, wanting to say something.

You run your hand up and down his side and say, "I'm glad we did this." He raises an eyebrow, smirking at you and you playfully pinch his arm. "You know what I mean. I'm glad you came over. I'm glad you're here."

Ashton's face softens and he scoots closer to you, placing his head next to you on your pillow. "Me too," he responds sincerely. "Sorry we missed midnight though, wanted to kiss you."

“Well lucky for us, we’ll get another midnight in about 23 hours,” you grin, reaching over to scratch his beard.

He slips his hand around your waist, pulling you to his lips. He murmurs against your mouth, “Do over at my place? It’s a date.”

————-

Taglist issues again so my apologies if you get notif’d more than once (or not at all)

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  @Too-et-moi215 @photochic18  @kouska901 @Indermeow  @dantord

[theimmaterialplace]

i’ll give you all you want if you just ask | spencer reid x f!reader | ch. 1 of 2: all i need

Summary: It doesn’t take a profiler to notice that Spencer Reid is nervous around you. Half of the team finds it funny and the other half just ignores it. What you don’t know is why. Well, you have an idea but you’d rather not be wrong in your deduction and make a fool of yourself and make him just avoid you completely.

See, it’s not that you just make him nervous, it’s that you make him excited. He perks up every time you enter a room and shoots you a shy smile, never making eye contact. He shivers any time you accidentally, or purposefully because you can’t help yourself, brush against him. He follows your lead eagerly and without complaint, able to connect the pieces you’ve put together. Perhaps the most damning piece of evidence is the way he reacts to your praise.

Oh, how his reactions always excite you.  

Contains: hints of light dom/sub undertones, teasing, praise kink. no actual smut yet, just a bit of kissing and allusions to sex. enabler!hotch. 

Word Count: 1.7k

Comments: hello im back this very self indulgent fic! i just love sub!spencer to pieces and there aren't enough fics with him featuring that so i'm here to remedy that! also just assume rossi had a date or something and couldn't make it! i'd say this takes place before a bit before the reaper arc! also i fucking adore hotch and HAD to make him an enabler because he just wants his team to be happy!! he cares for them!! if you’d rather read this on ao3, here’s the link! finally, leave a comment/review so ik how yall feel! reblogs are also highly appreciated! :)

It doesn’t take a profiler to notice that Spencer Reid is nervous around you. Half of the team finds it funny and the other half just ignores it. What you don’t know is why . Well, you have an idea but you’d rather not be wrong in your deduction and make a fool of yourself and make him just avoid you completely.

See, it’s not that you just make him nervous, it’s that you make him excited . He perks up every time you enter a room and shoots you a shy smile, never making eye contact. He shivers any time you accidentally, or purposefully because you can’t help yourself, brush against him. He follows your lead eagerly and without complaint, able to connect the pieces you’ve put together. Perhaps the most damning piece of evidence is the way he reacts to your praise.

Oh, how his reactions always excite you.  

You’d conducted an experiment over the past few months. At first, you had given him compliments such as “I like your outfit today” or “good work on today’s case”, harmless things. He had reacted as well as you expected, blushing the tiniest bit and muttering a thank you in response.

Next, you decided to take a page out of Morgan’s book and call him pretty boy which eventually turned into a whole slew of nicknames revolving around praising him. The first time you had called him pretty boy, he had burned his mouth because he gulped his coffee too quickly. His face was a bright red and he was incapable of meeting your eyes for the rest of the day. As it was, that was a great reaction but your favorite had to be the time you called him a good boy. He had looked up at you with wide eyes and his pupils had dilated so much that you barely saw his original eye color. Now that should’ve been enough to confirm your beliefs but you decided to take it a step farther.

The most recent trial had you calling him your boy, a possessive indicator. There was no hiding your intentions with this one so you made sure to only call him that in private; no need for the team to know. It seemed like no matter how many times you called him yours, one way or another, it still had the same effect on him.

With this information, you had no doubt that Spencer was interested in you and seemed to lean on the sub side of things. It was cute. He was cute. He was just your type in men. You loved nothing more than a man who was intellectual and would let you take control, which you had no doubt Spencer would allow.

It’s on a Saturday night when everyone decides to get drinks, a rare occasion, that you decide to make a move. Well, you’re actually encouraged to by someone you would least expect.

“So, when do you plan on making a move on Spencer?” It takes everything in you not to choke on the fruity drink you were sipping on when Hotch speaks up. You turn your head to look at him and find him staring at you with a smug, knowing look on his face.

“I’d say I have no idea what you’re talking about, but that’d be a lie and also an insult to you.” A small grin creeps onto his face with your response. It’s nice to see him so relaxed because god only knows how much your boss deserves to let loose every once in a while.

“Hm, you’re avoiding the question. Don’t tell me that all those pet names and touches were for nothing.” It’s a good thing you’re lightly buzzed because otherwise you’d feel completely mortified over the revelation that your boss had picked up on your actions. As you are now though, you can only let out a laugh and smile sharply at his remark.

“Course not, Hotch. As for an answer to your question,” you pause and look across the bar to where he’s laughing at something Penelope said, “I think it won’t be too long now. He’s just so… receptive .” He only hums, taking another sip of what you think is whiskey.

“Well don’t take too long.” And perhaps it’s his encouragement or just the liquid courage but you decide that now is a good time to get your boy. You excuse yourself quietly and give Hotch a small wave which he returns with a small smirk on his face.

When you finally reach Spencer, it’s to him saying goodbye to the rest of the team.

“Come on, stay for a bit longer. We’ll have a fun time. We always do.” Derek might be able to convince him if he keeps going on like this so you decide to interrupt.

“Hey, guys!” Everyone turns to look at you and they all clammer to ask you how you’ve been, giving Spencer the out he needed.

“So, what were you talking about with the boss man? I saw some very interesting expressions over there, babe.” Penelope has a sly grin on her face as the rest of the team “oohs” at her statement.

“Oh, just a little bit of this, little bit of that. Don’t tell me you thought I was flirting with him…” at this, their shoulders drop a little, “Oh my god, come on, you guys! As if I’d flirt with Hotch. You guys though…. You’re all free real estate.” You wink at them in good fun.

“You’re almost as bad as Derek with your flirting, you know that?” Emily takes a sip of her drink and JJ nods, agreeing with her completely.

“Now, there’s no need to insult me like that, ladies. At least I take my flirting seriously. When was the last time you even got laid?” You can feel Spencer’s eyes on you so you decide not to answer.

“I plead the fifth!” This gets you a round of laughs and you decide now is a good time to tell them you’re leaving and start your plan.

“Well, I’m glad everyone is having a good time but I really gotta go,” this earns you a round of “boos”, “I know. I know. Sure it may be old lady behavior but I have plans tomorrow morning. You guys have fun for me though!”

JJ speaks up, “Oh, since you’re leaving right now, would you mind taking Spencer home? I was going to give him a ride since the metro is closed tonight but you’re already leaving so I figured why not?” You only nod while internally you can’t help but think this is going even more perfectly than you originally thought.

You look over to Spencer who’s already looking at you. “You okay with that, pretty boy?” He nods and even with the lighting of the club, you can recognize his cheeks flushing.

You turn back to the rest of them to address them,“Well, goodnight guys! Be safe and I’ll see you Monday if everything goes well! Love you!”

After receiving the mandatory goodbye hugs and kisses, you grab Spencer’s hand and lead him out of the club. It’s a good thing you parked far away because now you have time to set the mood.

“How many drinks have you had tonight? You look moderately red, Spence.” It’s a good starter because you need to know he’s not drunk and that this is fully consensual but also to call him out on his blushing.

“I didn’t drink tonight. Didn’t really feel like it so I just nursed a coke and I think the team thought it was a mixed drink.” His voice is heavenly and you personally can’t wait to hear what he sounds like moaning your name or any other name you both decide on.

You stop for a moment and place the back of your hand on his forehead before you announce, “Good news, you don’t have a fever! Bad news, I can’t place why else you’d be so red.” He splutters for a moment and your red only turns him more red.

“Yeah,” his voice cracks and you feel his palm become sweaty despite the cool temperature, “I don’t know why either.”

He’s so adorable if he thinks you’re gonna let him off the hook so easily. You lean in closer to him and whisper, “You know, my darling… I think I do know why you’re so red right now and it’s the same reason you’re always blushing around me,” you can hear him audibly gulp but he doesn't display any signals for you to stop so you continue, “The team used to think it was because I made you nervous and while that is partially correct, I think it’s because I made you excited, right?”

You stop in your tracks and you’re grateful you timed this correctly because you’re able to back him onto your car.

He’s looking down at you, eyes wide and pupils dilated, and you can’t help the smirk that graces your face. He looks so good like this but you think he’d look better looking up at you from his knees.

You reach up to cradle his face in your hands and say,“Tell me if you want this, Spencer. If you say no, I’ll stop and we’ll never have to speak of this again but… If you do want this, say please and I’ll take you home.”

He’s looking at you with something close to adoration and his admission is so quiet that if you hadn’t been staring so intently at him, you wouldn’t have heard him or read the plea that fell from his lips.

“Please.”

Oh, how that one little word sounded like music to your ears.

You take the last leap and lean forward to kiss him. His lips are exactly how you pictured and he tastes like the chapstick you gave him on that case to Alaska. This makes you feel unbearably smug because if he’s been using this chapstick rather than his usual one, it means you’ve affected even more than you thought.

When you finally pull away, Spencer looks confused and very rumpled.

“As much as I would love to continue this, I’d rather we didn’t do this in a parking lot for our first time.” He perks up at “first time” and you smile at him, “and there will be plenty of times to do this later. You’re not getting rid of me now that you’ve finally succumbed to my advances.”

“I agree.” He smiles at you and you take his hand into your own, giving it a light squeeze.

“Now, let’s get to my apartment so we can continue this."

[smellss]

city lights - mako x reader

gif credits: @ahhhsami

request: @salemgirl

“hello, can i request a mako x reader where they are childhood friends who have romantic feelings for each other but think they have crushes on someone else but korra,asami and bolin who both are aware help them relied their feelings and ends with them confessing.”

hi lovelies,

this request was a really great concept! i really liked writing it i’ve been getting some messages about my spelling i usually come back and edit the day after i post so sorry if you read straight after i’ve posted. keep requesting!

- smells x

mako unlocked the apartment door, his eyes feeling droopy from his long shift

you just had to see those benders robbing the bank at the end of your shift didn’t you mako

the firebender sighed as he took off his shoes and placed them by the door breathing in the sweet scent of the apartment and a fruity smell coming from the kitchen

“bolin, i swear to the spirits if put your finger in the bowl one more time i’m going to kick your ass all the way into the spirit world” y/n growled at bolin, snatching the pancake mix away from the young boy walking over to the frying pan to start cooking

bolin pouted stomping out of the kitchen and went to sulk on the couch with pabu

“y/n’s cranky when she hasn’t seen mako isn’t she pabu” bolin complained to his companion poking his tounge out to the girl

“hah hah very funny bo, i would just like mako to have something to eat when he comes home” y/n stated matter of factly, raising her eyebrows at the earth bender boy

“i appreciate that greatly peach” mako exclaimed wrapping his arms around the girl as she jumped

“mako, spirits don’t sneak up on a person like that also how many times have i told you not to call me that!” y/n exclaimed whacking him with the spatula, chasing him around the kitchen

mako threw y/n over his shoulder, dancing around the kitchen with her the young girl squealing at the boy, mako eventually putting her down

“wow you to are almost like a couple” bolin pointed out with a snicker, both individuals turning a bright shade of pink from the comment

“i have to um go-o, i’m getting ready at wu’s but i’ll see you both at korra and asami’s for the party?” y/n said collecting her thing placing kisses on both boys cheeks as she walked out the door trying to seem unfazed by bolin’s comment

“yep we’ll see you then” bolin waved to the girl as she walked out the door, the second it closed a hand whacked his head

“ouch mako what was that for?” bolin whined rubbing his head from the impact, sinking into the couch

“why would you say that in front of her bo? it made her nervous and you almost exposed everything” mako stated crossing his arms together,

“well maybe it’s time you told her come on mako, we’ve know her our whole lives don’t you think you come clean about your little secret?” bolin teased throwing a cushion at the boy, which he easily dodged

“what’s the point though she has a thing for wu, she’s been spending so much time with him and it makes her happy i can’t ruin that for her” mako sighed out walking to his bedroom to lie down and sulk

why did i have to fall for her

“so then bolin said, wow you too are almost like a couple” y/n huffed out falling dramatically onto the bed, covering her face with a pillow letting out a muffled sigh

“pfft he actually said that” wu laughed coming out to show y/n yet another outfit option for the party

“yes he did and it isn’t funny in the slightest, next outfit too green” y/n stated waving the boy away, wu walking off to his wardrobe to find another outfit

“what am i supposed to wu? i’m not supposed to have feelings for him i’ve known him my whole life, he’s been my rock for me in my darkest place and now i’m going to ruin our whole friendship with my silly feelings” y/n rambled out, putting her head in her hands tears threading to spill

y/n felt a hand on her back, wu gently raising her chin up for her to look at him face to face

“y/n hey look at me, everything with mako will work out but you need to talk about it with him if he’s really your best friend he’ll understand” wu smiled at the young girl, before standing up

“now tell me this outfit is perfect and we can go” wu stated giving the girl a twirl, causing her to laugh at the prince

“yes it’s perfect now let’s go” y/n giggled linking arms with wu skipping out the door

wu and y/n arrived to the party lights strung from the ceiling people filled the apartment everyone was there, well except for him

“hey asami, have you seen mako?” y/n yelled over the music to her somewhat tipsy friend

“he said he’d be here soon he just had to pick something oh” asami getting cut off as she saw who walked through the door, y/n turning her head to see who it was her eyes widened at the sight

it was mako and bolin but a girl linked the two boys together, mako whispering something to her making the gorgeous girl giggle

wow she’s beautiful, mako deserves a girl like her someone who will grown old and have beautiful children

y/n began to feel her eyes swell with tears she began to stumble her emotions and the loud, pounding music beginning to overwhelm her until she felt a hand on her shoulder which guided her out to the balcony

“y/n, hey y/n are you alright” wu exclaimed to the girl softly hugging her tightly

“i shouldn’t even care he’s with another girl, he deserves a beautiful girl like her” y/n chocked out, resting her arms on the railing looking out towards the city lights

wu came up behind her hugging her placing his face in the crook of her neck, before leaving her shutting the door to the balacony

the young girl stood out there staring at the lights remembering the times she had on the streets with mako and bolin

how simple things used to be

y/n chuckled to herself before hearing the sliding door open, she kept looking out towards the city

“mind if i join you it’s getting a little stuffy in there for me, i brought you a drink” mako said handing the girl a cup of cactus juice, before walking over to the railing of the balcony

the two stood in silence listening to the city, mako gazing over to y/n but her never returning his gaze.

“y/n are you upset with me because if you are please tell me what i did wrong, if it’s about what bolin said this morning...” mako began to ramble staring at the girl trying to read her face

“yeah was your girlfriend upset when you told her what happened” y/n scoffed downing her drink, she knew she was being unfair but she was a bit tipsy and was upset

“girlfriend, y/n what are you talking about...do you mean opal, bolins opal?” mako exclaimed out trying to surpress a chuckle from his best friends comment

“she’s not my girlfriend y/n and besides who would you care you’re practically dating wu, always hugging him and stuff” mako stated angrily to the girl crossing his arms looking out towards the city

“mako wu and i aren’t dating how many times do i have to tell you this for you to get it through your thick skull honestly i have feelings for you mako god can’t you see that i-”y/n voice muffled by mako’s lips

y/n wrapped her arms around the boys neck, his arms slinking around her waist mako’s lips pressing against y/n’s roughly feeling all the emotion built up between the two

breaking apart there two foreheads pressed against each other breath heavy fluttering on each other’s faces

“i have feelings for you too” mako smiled to y/n kissing her again, lips pressing softly together y/n smiling into the kiss

“took you two long enough” bolin yelled out the whole krew high fiving and smiling at the pair

mako and y/n laughed at there friends antics before hugging looking out over republic city.

[weregonnaneedmorewhiskey]

Covet

Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4

Chapter 5: “San Francisco Nights”

Let me know if you want to be tagged for future chapters :)

Warning: Strong Language

Songs for this chapter:

Westside- Ariana Grande

Loooooove Song- Rihanna ft Future

April 9th- 8:30pm

Karla

“I can’t believe I’m doing this again. I’m on a date with this guy again. Why did I let Adrienne convince me to go?! Maybe I should just get a cab and go home and he’ll never know I showed up to the hotel. What am I saying?! Of course he’ll find out, this guy found out which building I live in and paid my rent. Let me just go to the front desk and find out if he’s in his room”

Walking into the lobby of the hotel, I take a close look at the marble floors and bask in the beauty of my surroundings. If the Miami pool party felt like something out of a music video, then walking into the St Regis felt like I had just walked into a scene from Ocean’s 11.

“Welcome to the St Regis, how can help you?” The upbeat receptionist greets me. His name tag says his name is Edward. Looks middle aged and has a few greys hairs in his dark hair.

“Hi, I’m meeting someone at this hotel and could you let them know I have arrived and waiting for them in the lobby?” I ask him

“Sure. What’s the name of the guest?” He asks.

“James Brookes”

“And your name Miss? So I can let him know who’s waiting?” Edward informs me.

“Karla” Maybe I should have said my last name too. Oh who I am kidding, he’s gonna know it’s me, he’s the one that wanted to see me in the first place.

I take a quick look in the mirror whilst Edward the receptionist makes a call to his room. There I was. Slick back ponytail, black satin shirt slightly opened, leather pants and some strappy heels. Not exactly an outfit I’d typically wear but Adrienne decided to chose my outfit for tonight.

“Yes good evening Mr Brookes, I am just calling your room to inform you that Miss Karla is waiting for you in the lobby. Ok then. You’re welcome” Edward ends his brief phone call.

Suddenly, a bunch of butterflies enter my stomach and I feel...nervous. It’s not like I really liked James that much. Sure, he was attractive and intelligent but I don’t know if I’m interested in that way. Also that rent thing I still think is super weird.

“Karla” There it was once again, that baritone voice. The first thing I notice was the bed of curls on his head. In comparison to his slick back look in Miami, the curls made him look slightly younger, more boyish. The blazer, crisp white button down shirt dress pants and Louboutin loafers made him look like a GQ model.

“Hi James, so where are we going” I ask him

“Well there’s a pretty nice bar here so I was thinking we could stay in the hotel?” He suggests.

As soon as I heard the words “stay in the hotel” I immediately raise an eyebrow. Does he think he can fly out here just to fuck me?!

“I’m not trying to get your in bed, I just want to get a drink and enjoy your company” He breaks my train of thoughts. It’s almost like he knew what I was thinking. He goes to link his arms in mine and we walk towards the hotel bar.

“Well then, I’m assuming you’re paying for drinks since you have no problem paying several months of a woman you slept with once’s rent” I joke

“You’d be correct to assume correctly. How are you?”

“I’m good. How are finding San Francisco?” I ask him

“Good, I think it’s gonna get better though” He says. We find a couple seats at the bar and I couldn’t help but notice that his dress pants was well tailored especially around his ass but I’m looking respectfully.

“Well...aren’t you optimistic? I’ll have a glass of some very expensive merlot since you’re paying” Normally I wouldn't be so bold but fuck it, let me have some fun.

“Great. I'll order a bottle so I can have the same. How you been?” He asks and he actually sounds like he’s interested.

“I’ve been good actually. I didn't have a seminar today so I just sent out a few applications to some galleries. Thought I'd get a head-start on the job front you know?” 

A woman walks towards our table and I'm assuming she’s the waitress due to her all black uniform and apron or she just likes to dress like that.

“What can I get you two tonight?” She asks. She eyes Wyatt up and down like a predator eyes its prey and bats her lashes. How cliche. Might as well ask him if he’d like his dick sucked too. 

“Yes, I'd like a bottle of your most expensive merlot please” He barely looks at her and I can tell she’s bothered by that but instead she maintains her perky attitude and says...

“Fabolous, I'll be right back with that, Sir”. As she walks away, she sends a wink in his direction but still, he doesn’t look to catch this. Maybe he does like me...or just doesn’t care for that waitress.

“Which galleries are you looking to work at?” Once again, James baritone voice interrupts my inner monologue.

“Different studios. Some in the Bay Area, some in LA, some in New York, some in Atlanta. I don't like limiting my options. I want as many as I can get” I explain. 

“I have a couple art buyer friends that are looking for assistants if you're wanting to further expand your options” Once again, he just says that oh so casually like it’s normal.

“Is there anyone you don't know James or is that just the life of working in marketing?” 

“What can I say, Karla? I'm a sociable person. That’s all. I like making friends” He explains. I guess with a job like his, you would have to be a social person...or at least persuasive.

“Here is your bottle Sir. That will be $180. Would like to pay cash or card?” The perky waitress returns, still trying to flirt.

“Just charge it to my room. I'm staying in room 520″

“Will do, Sir” The perky facade melts away and you can see her disappointment that he still didn't notice her. 

He opens the bottle and pour two glasses with a concentrated expression on his face, tilting the glass at a 90 degree angle.

“For you. Here’s to...” He passes the glass to me. 

“Making new friends” I finish the sentence. 

Clinking our glasses, I take a sip of the merlot. I let the fruity taste dance on my tongue and reunite with that familiar burn in my veins that clouds my judgement. 

“So how long are you in town again?” I ask him

“Four days” He reminds me.

“There’s an opening at this gallery I did an internship at. I’m going to it tomorrow night” 

A smirk comes across his face upon hearing this information. “Are you asking me on a date?”

I shouldn't find that smirk sexy but I can't help. He's not even trying. Not that he has to try.

“Yes” On our first date, he very much had the power and tonight, the power was mine.

“What time?” 

Author’s Note: Ok, I’m the worst when it comes to update but writing this chapter got me so excited for where this story goes. Please let me know in the comments, DM or an Ask if you want to be tagged in future chapters

Taglist: @laketaj24 @emjayewrites

[justcourttee]

Girl’s Night Out

This was a request from AO3 and I hope you enjoy!

Marinette narrowly avoided his hand as she dove into her apartment, a flash of blonde slamming the door shut behind her.

“Marinette! It’s just a date! Why do you keep avoiding me?”

The pounding on the door prattled on for a few moments more as Marinette laid face first on the ground, catching her breath. As the noise drifted into silence, she risked a peek to where Stephanie stood, her eye glued to the peek hole.

“Are we clear yet?”

“Almost, Mrs. Baker from across the hall is giving him her signature lecture.”

The two girls shared a giggle as Marinette pushed herself into a sitting position.

“But you know Mari, he did bring up an interesting point.”

“And what was that?”

Stephanie’s mischievous glare turned to her, her stunning blue eyes boring hole into Marinette’s.

“At least twice a week, some guy offers to walk you home in an attempt to ask you out and every week, you always turn them down. Why is that I suppose?”

Her hand gracefully extended to offer Marinette help. Marinette’s eyes darted to where the hand awaited, the rogue in her cheeks beginning to monopolize her face as she slowly reached up to accept it.

“I don’t know Steph. Maybe I’m not just that into them.”

In one swift motion, Stephanie had pulled her to her feet, Marinette’s forehead level with the girl’s chin as she tilted up to get a better view of her roommate. While she had grown some over the year, Marinette had barely hit 5’0” leaving the blonde girl a cool half foot taller than her.

“Hmm, I don’t think it’s just them.”

Stephanie’s slim fingers cupped her chin as she pulled her tilted head upward, Stephanie’s own head tilting down until their noses were mere centimeters apart. Her eyes were sparkling, captivating Marinette every thought until she couldn’t remember how she had gotten herself into this position. She was so close to the very lips that had starred in her dreams for the past six months. She wondered if they would taste like strawberries, just how she imagined.

“Maybe, you’re not into guys at all. Could that be it Ms. Dupain-Cheng?”

“I-i,” Marinette’s eyes flickered between her roommates lips and the piercing, inquisitive eyes that seemed to be taunting her.

“Oh well, you like who you like huh? What do you want for dinner? I’m thinking of ordering a pizza, whatcha think?”

In a flash, she was gone, leaving Marinette a stumbling hot mess as she coyly walked away, her ever present smirk returning to her face. The smaller girl couldn’t help the flustered red that had moved from her cheeks to down her neck. The lingering smell of something tropical followed wherever Stephanie stood, and now as Marinette shook away her previous thoughts, she could notice the small blush that lingered on the blonde’s face as well.

“Um yeah, Pizza-a sounds me to great, I mean great me to, ugh great to me.”

Stephanie’s giggle rang in her ears as she darted past the blonde and into her room, mumbling something that sounded close to ‘call me when it’s here’ before slamming her door shut. She couldn’t will her heart to still as she slumped against the door, her mind replaying just how close she was to her roommate.

Absentmindedly, her hand reached up, tracing her lips. Her imagination began drifting to the idea of closing that distance the next time she had a chance, but if she tried and she was wrong about how Stephanie felt, she would be no better than the guys that pursued her from class.

With a great sigh, Marinette stood, moving herself onto her bed before her legs gave out again. Her hand flailed around her comforter until it connected on the cold smooth screen of her phone. Rolling over, she clicked on the first contact that she had, the one she always called about her girl problems.

“Mariiiii, when are you coming to Gothammm? Dami is only ever nice to me when you’re heree.”

“Hi Dick, how’s it going Dick? I’m doing great Dick, thanks for asking.” Marinette chuckled as the boy sighed dramatically, the sound of him plopping echoing through the speaker.

“Fine, how are you Mari? I’m assuming you’re calling to gush about Steph again instead of fixing my Damian problems?”

“I never gush about her,” Marinette felt her cheeks flush again as Dick continued trying to shame her. “Dick, I just wanted to ask you how to ask her out?”

The line went silent, almost too silent for Dick. Marinette pulled the phone away from her cheek to ensure that she had not accidentally ended the call. Bringing it back to her ear, she called out hesitantly for her friend.

“Ohhhhh, no no no, I’m still here, I’m still here, you just caught me off guard. You’re finally going to do it? Awww, Mari! I’m so excited! Okay, okay, where to start?”

Marinette felt wary as she listened in on the incoherent mumbling of Dick as he spewed what sounded like multiple scenarios for her love life.

“I’ve got it!” The smaller girl couldn’t help but flinch as his voice rang through the phone. “You should invite her to a dinner and movie! That way you only have to talk for like an hour and the rest of the time gives you a break to step back and try to hold her hand. Yes, yes, it will be perfect!”

She wasn’t sure if perfect was the right word for it, but hearing the excitement in Dick’s voice gave her the push she needed. After some brief words of encouragement, Marinette tossed her phone to the side before pulling out her sketchpad, her eyes determined as she placed the tip of the pencil to the clean page.

For a stunning woman who could make anything look good, Marinette was determined to make Stephanie the perfect date night outfit, one that her effortless beauty coils shine through. She was so lost in thought, she didn’t even notice the pitter of soft footsteps as they retreated from her closed door. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

As Friday evening rolled in, Marinette finally felt the nerves crashing down that she had been bottling all week. Gripping her carefully wrapped design, Marinette tried to count backward from ten to calm herself before entering the living room.

“Marii, you home?”

Her voice was so sweet as it echoed through the hallway, so soothing calling her name.

“Ah, there you are! What’s that?”

Marinette jumped slightly as the blonde seemingly materialized before her. Stephanie leaned in, her hair smelled fruity as it tickled Marinette’s nose. Gingerly, she poked the package, her eyes sparkling as the material gave way.

“No way, did you make me something?”

Marinette nodded quickly as she shoved the gift into her roommate's hands, her face on fire as their hands brushed. Stephanie gently unfolded the paper, her eyes widening as she lifted up the dress, allowing it to fall to its full length. With a giant smile, she darted past the smaller girl and into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

Moments later, she reemerged, sending Marinette’s heart into a frenzy.

“So, what do you think?”

The fabric hung off her every curve, just as the designer had anticipated, but perhaps she anticipated it a little too well. Her body was too distracting and Marinette’s eyes were traveling no matter how much she begged them to stop.

“Mari?”

Her eyes snapped up to meet two mischievous blue ones, her blonde hair swinging freely around her pale face, just as distracting as the rest of her.

“You’re beautiful Steph.” Her voice sounded foreign. Did it always crack like that? She wasn’t sure.

“You’re right, I was thinking I would wear it on our Girl’s Night Out tonight!”

Stephanie’s smile was blinding as she feigned a twirl, admiring the fluttering material.

“Girls night out?”

She nodded vigorously as Marinette’s skipping heart dropped to her stomach.

“I overheard you and Dick saying that we needed to go out and\\\\ you’re so right, we haven’t been out just the two of us in a while. So what’d you say? Dinner and movie for a couple of besties?”

Marinette swallowed hard as she forced herself to nod. This wasn’t anything like she had planned. She was supposed to finally ask her on a date, show her the time of her life, find out if her lips really did taste like strawberries like they had in her dream.

“Great! Now you go get changed and we can leave!”

Stephanie ushered Marinette into her room before pulling the door shut behind her. The designer stared at the outfit she had picked out on the bed, a pair of flared pants with a white turtleneck and the necklace she had never returned to Stephanie. It felt pointless and she couldn’t stop the hot tear that forced its way down her cheek.

“Hurry up Mari!”

The knocking on her door snapped her out of it as she slipped out of her clothes and into the ones on her bed. This wasn’t the time for crying, this was the time for a change of strategy. Stephanie wanted a girl’s night out? Fine. But for Marinette, tonight would be the night that she answered the question she so desperately wanted to know.

Cracking open the bedroom door, she forced a smile as Stephanie gushed over their coordinated outfits. Gathering her purse and keys, she allowed her roommate to drag her out of their apartment, the wheels turning before the door had even shut. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Every single one of Marinette’s plans had failed.

She tried at dinner to ask Stephanie how she felt, but the girl became easily distracted by the band that traveled from table to table serenading couples. As they walked to the movies, she attempted to grab her swinging hand, but Stephanie was faster as she linked their arms, dragging her faster to the theater. Finally, during the movie, she tried to sneak her arm around Stephanie’s shoulders, but the girl mistook it for her grabbing popcorn and moved the snacks into Marinette’s lap.

At this point, it felt hopeless.

“Marinette, are you going to tell me what’s wrong? You’ve been down all night. Kind of hard to enjoy a girl’s night out when you’re all bummy.”

Marinette couldn’t help the cringe that came with those cursed words leaving Stephanie’s mouth. They mocked her every attempt to turn this into a date.

“Stephaine, I never meant for this to be a girl’s night out.”

“Oh?” The blonde cocked her head to the side as she stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, her mischievous blue eyes glistening as always. “Then did I misunderstand something? Was Alya supposed to come in and you were going to ask her to accompany you this evening?”

“No!” Marinette cleared her throat before trying again. “No, I wanted it to be you, but I-uh-well-you see- itwassupposedtobeadate.”

“What was that?”

Stephanie was just rubbing salt into her wounds as those blue eyes shined like two spotlights on Marinette’s face. Of course, she wasn’t interested, why would she be?

“Nevermind, forget I said anything, let’s just go home.”

As Marinette took a step forward, a hand shot out, gripping hers, forcing her to turn around.  Her forehead collided with Stephanie's chest earning a small yelp of protest from the girl as she tried to pull away from the hug.

“Stupid Marinette, I knew you were going to ask me out, I just was curious to see if you’d correct me.”

Marinette stopped struggling as she propped her head up to get a better view of her roommate.

“You...knew?”

Stephanie nodded before a giggle slipped through breaking into full-blown laughter. Marinette felt the blood rush to her cheeks from both the embarrassment and anger she felt.

“Don’t play with my emotions like that Stephaine! I really like you okay?”

The giggles ceased as Stephanie raised an eyebrow at the smaller girl. With one sudden movement, her lips came crashing down onto Mari’s. It was quick and messy and when she pulled back, Marinette was positive that she was going to explode.

“I’m not playing with anyone’s emotions. I like you too Marinette.”

Marinette stared in awe at the blonde as her forehead rested on hers, both girls donning ear-splitting smiles as the world seemed to stop.

“Uhm, Stephanie, would you like to be my girlfriend?”

“Is that your extremely adorable way of asking me out?”

Marinette nodded slowly, careful not to break contact with the blonde, terrified the moment would end.

“Then yes, I absolutely would love to.”

Stephanie’s lips inched closer, patiently waiting to connect with Marinette’s once more. As they were mere centimeters away, Marinette pulled back her head, breaking the serenity they had formed.

“One rule though.”

“Oh?” Stephanie raised her eyebrows in challenge at the smaller girl.

“You are never ever allowed to utter the words girls night out ever again.”

Stephanie’s smile was blinding as she pecked her girlfriend's cheek.

“Never again, I promise.”

In one smooth movement, Marinette tangled her fingers in the blonde’s hair, pulling her face down until their lips met.

Only one thought crossed her mind as she rode on the high of kissing the girl before her.

Her lips really do taste like strawberries.

Permanent Tag List:

@ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava @iamablinkmarvelarmy @seraphkitty @clumsy-owl-4178 @pawsitivelymiraculous @mialuvscats @leagrey @smolplantmum @animegirlweeb @glitterflowercat

[moving-accounts-uwu]

Right Where You Were Meant To Be (Bucky x Plus-size!Reader)

Fandom: Marvel 

Characters: Bucky x Plus-size!reader

Warnings: Fluff, hurt/comfort, body-shaming

Story type: One-shot

Word count: 2.7k words 

Summary: Reader has a crush on Bucky the second she looked at him but she also has feelings of self-consciousness about her body and doubts she’d ever end up with Bucky or any guy like Bucky. That all changes one night at one of Tony’s parties.

(A/N: This is a cute little one-shot idea I had and just wanted to write out. I feel there aren’t many plus-size!reader stories so I wanted to make my own. I’m a chubby girl and felt like I needed some love, lmao. Any mistakes I take responsibility for, this story wasn’t beta read, so I apologize for any mistakes. I hope you enjoy nonetheless!!! Also, the gif isn’t mine, but he just looks so precious <3)

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

It all started when you looked at him for the first time. He had just moved into the Tower, and you had just gotten the job as Tony's new assistant since Pepper had become CEO of Stark Industries. Because you worked in an environment with superheroes who were very fit and healthy, you had become self-conscious of yourself; whether it would be what you wore, the things you ate, or just how your body looked in general. 

Being a bigger girl, it often took a toll on your mental health when you would notice the glances, the whispering, the judgmental stares, and how shopping for clothes in your size was difficult, and it made you feel like you had to lose weight to fit in and belong. You felt alone and isolated. 

You didn't have any friends; you didn't even talk to many of your co-workers, and just kept to yourself a majority of the time. When Bucky moved in, you noticed he did the same. He didn't speak much to the rest of the team, he mostly stayed in his room, and only hung around Steve. Bucky was very fit, and his muscular body showed it whenever he wore tight-fitted clothing. You would never wear tight-fitted clothing for fear of having your plumpness accentuated.

After five months working for Tony and having a more friendly relationship with the rest of the team, you had built a few close bonds with some of the heroes. Wanda and Natasha were your closest girlfriends and would regularly have 'Lady's Nights' every Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Tony, Clint, Sam, and Steve were like your older brothers and would look out for you. 

You and Steve made it a routine to do small exercise and yoga in the afternoons just after 4 o'clock. How this all started was because you wanted to accomplish small goals for yourself, as Sam told you to do to help with your mental health.

"Steve," You called out as you stepped into the Tower's gym, the one place you knew where to find Steve if he wasn't in the common room.

"Oh, hey (Y/N)! What's up?" Steve turned to face you as he held the punching bag still while he watched you walk closer to him, noticing you fidgeting with your fingers nervously.

"I just... I wanted to start doing light exercises, you know, to boost my endorphins, and so I have something to do in the afternoons when I've finished with work." It wasn't a complete lie, but it just sugar-coated the fact that you just wanted to lose weight to gain confidence in yourself.

Steve had agreed to help you; he wouldn't push you too much either because he didn't want you to strain anything and not push you out of your comfort zone too much. Both of you would exercise for an hour each day in the afternoons. This routine had been going on for six weeks, and you were enjoying it. You felt better about yourself each week when you would check your progress and write down how much you lost during the week; you were more confident than you were all those weeks ago before asking Steve for help.

During one of those afternoon exercises, you and Steve were both in the Adho Mukha pose with Steve wearing his usual tight t-shirt that you swore was a size too small, and shorts while you wore a loose, black tank top, and tight-fitted leggings that complemented the shape of your plump ass. You were so in the zone that you hadn't heard the gym doors open and the sound of footsteps coming closer to you. Bucky stood behind you and Steve, him getting an eyeful of your butt while he cleared his throat to catch his best friend's attention. 

"Hey, Bucky! I didn't notice you were there. (Y/N) and I were doing some yoga, would you like to join us?" 

You. Were. Mortified. You quickly stood up beside Steve and looked down at your feet, trying to avoid looking at Bucky after having your ass practically in his face. 

"Uh, I kinda have to get ready for 'Girl's Night' tonight, but I think Bucky can keep you company." You nervously spoke, having your words jumble out quickly due to your inner-embarrassment. "I'll see you later, Steve!"

You bolted out of the gym as fast as your legs could go and made it up into your room without another incident. When you flopped onto your bed, you let out a loud, exhausted sigh before closing your eyes shut tightly. 'Why did I have to act like a nervous wreck? You didn't even let him talk for Christ's sake!' After beating yourself up over the little incident, you started to get ready for 'Girl's Night' with Nat and Wanda. 

It was two hours into 'Girl's Night' and you, Nat and Wanda had, at least, drank four glasses of Kraken Rum and about three shots of Vodka. You were more relaxed and carefree, enjoying your time with your best friends while gossiping about an episode of Criminal Minds you all saw the other day together. 

"Not gonna lie, I would love to have a man like Morgan. Have you seen his muscles? And how he kicks down doors like a badass?" You gushed.

"That is true, and I fully believe Morgan and Garcia should be together. They have chemistry and look so cute!" Wanda loved her Morgan and Garcia ship. 

"Eh, I like to have a super cute genius but that's just my opinion" Nat took a sip of her fruity vodka drink while shrugging her shoulders.

"Of course you would, you're with Bruce and that's a little bias, Nat." You gently shoved your red-haired friend playfully. 

You and Wanda giggled like school girls when Natasha scoffed before she pointed an accusing finger at you.

"Well, says you, (Y/N)! You practically drool whenever you see Barnes."

That shut you up quickly. 'How does she know?! Play it off'

"That's very funny Nat, but I don't know what you mean."

"Don't bullshit me, (Y/N). I've seen the way your cheeks get all pink and how your eyes are glued to him whenever he walks by. You're so smitten it's grossly cute." Then Wanda turned to you with a small smirk on her face.

"Maybe you should ask him to work out with you and Steve!"

Flashbacks of your embarrassment earlier that day made your face go pale. 'Absolutely not'. You shook your head furiously, staring at your two friends with fear. There was no way you'd have the guts to do such a thing, not after how you acted around him before. Plus, you didn't want him to look at you with disgust when he looks at you working out. You shake off all the negative thoughts before finishing off your last bits of rum.

"I think I'm going to head off to bed now, gotta wake up early tomorrow. Tony wants me to help him organize and plan a gala party to celebrate his newest project. And when I say to 'help him' I mean I'll be doing most of the work while he hides away in his lab with Bruce." You said before walking off and waving the girls goodbye.

2 weeks later...

You had most of the gala planned out. You had booked a cute catering company to organize some food dishes for everyone and even hired a group of people to decorate one of the large common rooms that would fit all the guests on Tony's guest-list. You had even bought a cute new dress to wear for the party. The party was starting that night at 7:30 and you would hopefully get everything done while having an hour and a half to spare to get ready. 

When the decorating and planning finished, you quickly made your way to your room and got showered and changed. You stood in front of your mirror for quite some time, nitpicking every flaw you could see, judging your appearance because you knew how the other women at the party were going to look flawless and have every man swooping in for them. A sudden knock on your door snapped you out of your negative thoughts.

"(Y/n), you ready?" Wanda's voice called from the other side.

"Y-yeah! I'm coming now." You dashed for the door to get away from the mirror so you can't put yourself down even more. Once opening the door, Wanda linked your arm with hers, and both of you walked toward the elevator. 

Telling FRIDAY which floor, you both arrived just as a few of the guests were mingling around; drinking, eating, and chatting. You glanced around, hoping to see the familiar faces of your friends, spotting Sam, Nat, and Clint near the bar where Natasha was serving the drinks. Tony was standing next to Pepper and being an absolute flirt as always while Steve and Bucky were standing near a corner with drinks in hand. Before you could make your way over to the bar, Wanda told you to wait where you were while she goes to quickly touch up her make-up, disappearing before you could say a word. You stood there awkwardly and looked around, making sure everything was going swimmingly until you felt a presence behind you. A tap on your confirmed that someone was indeed behind you.

You turned around to see a group of two slender women and three muscular men staring at you with smug and cocky smiles on their faces.

"Can we get some more drinks? And make them with a little more alcohol this time." One of the men quirked an eyebrow, waiting for you to scurry off to grab their drinks.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not part of catering. I'm-"

"You certainly look it though, I mean, you're not dressed like you're here as a guest. The dress you're wearing looks like the other catering staff." A woman spat, her eyes narrowed at you. You started to feel self-conscious about your outfit now, realizing the color-scheme looked very similar to the catering staff.

"Plus, the dress isn't that flattering for your body hun. We can practically see your muffin top and panty lines with how tight that dress is on you." The other woman commented while she leaned to the side to glance at more of your plush figure.

A stinging sensation began to appear behind your eyes, feelings of doubt, and an anxiety attack began to make themselves known. So looked away from the group and quickly made for the elevator, shooting Wanda a quick text saying you weren't feeling too well. 'How stupid of me to think I even looked good or that I could fit in at the party.' By the time the elevator doors reached your floor and the doors opened, hot tears were falling down your cheeks as you tried to furiously wipe them away with zero results. The tears kept flowing down as you began to walk down the hallway to your room; quiet footsteps barely making noise as they followed you. Just as your hand settled on the door handle, a warm hand clasped onto your shoulder gently. With a yelp, you spun around with a jump to look at your "attacker", only to find a pair of stormy blue eyes staring at your teary eyes intensely. 

Bucky's eyes held hints of concern and worry, but it was hard to see because he was good at hiding his emotions, and the fact that your eyes were blurry from crying.

"You okay, (Y/n)? I saw you leave the party quickly and noticed how fast your breathing was." Bucky had to look down at you because he was so tall, or was it because you were just very short?

"I'm fine, Bucky. I just don't do well in crowded places or with so many strangers. I got a bit overwhelmed but it's fine now." You weakly smiled but he could see right through it, he always did.

"You had a panic attack after speaking to a group of people, and judging by the looks they gave you while talking to them, I can only believe it wasn't a pleasant conversation." Bucky then brought both his flesh and metal hands to cup your face while he peered into your eyes more. "Tell me what happened, doll." 

You sighed, you knew he wasn't going to let this go. Even though you both barely spoke to each other, he still cared for you like the both of you knew each other for years. Something about his calm voice and caring nature helped your nerves settle.

"They thought I was part of catering and asked if I could get them more drinks. I told them I wasn't catering, only for them to make snarky comments about my outfit and body. But it's fine, I'm used to having those comments made to me, I've dealt with those types of people all my life." Your hands gently held his and tried to move them away from your face but Bucky didn't budge. 

"You don't believe them, right? I mean, I think the dress looks good on you. It shows off your curves and any man who doesn't get blown away is blind."

You gave a humorless laugh and shook your head at Bucky, looking down at the floor.

"You're just saying that to be nice to me, Buck. We both know girls like me don't belong in a place like this, or a party like that. You can go back to the party, I don't want to waste more of your time." You went to turn away when Bucky held your upper arms tightly.

"Not a chance, doll. I'm not a fan of crowds myself and was about to leave the party myself until I saw you run away. I'd rather spend my time with you and making sure you don't ever think that you don't belong."

You both stared at each other for a few seconds, his stare was intense with adoration and love while you stared at him in shock that he'd want to spend time with you. Before you could blink, Bucky leaned down and you felt his soft lips on yours, his arms wrapping around you and caging you into a warm and gentle embrace. Your hands rested onto his firm chest while his hands rested on your lower back, just above your butt. At first, you were in shock but then you gave in to the kiss and snaked your arms around his neck, your fingers embedded into his long hair. 

The kiss was full of passion, and so much love that you didn't think it was possible. When the need for air was too much, you both separated and looked into each other's eyes once again.

"H-how? Why me? We barely know each other!"

"Because, (Y/n), I've been smitten for you since I first laid eyes on you but didn't have the guts to tell you. Steve's been a punk and trying to get me to join your work out sessions for weeks but I was too nervous to do it." Bucky's cheeks tinted red as he chuckled.

"And why's that? I was scared that if saw me working out, that you'd be grossed out by my body." You explained, chewing on your bottom lip.

"I could never be grossed out, sweetheart. I love a woman with curves and plumpness to her. I was nervous that if I watched you work out, I would try to make a move on you too fast and scare you away. I didn't want that to happen." Bucky grabbed your chin and leaned in again, his lips almost touching yours. "And you looked downright sexy in those tights, they shape your ass well."

You gasped and lightly smacked his shoulder while he smirked at you. His playfulness coming through. You made the first move this time and got onto your tippy toes to kiss him. This is was quicker than the first but still held the same emotions. With so much strength you underestimated he had, Bucky lifted you up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he opened your door and carried you over to your bedroom. Both of you watched a bunch of movies in your room; many kisses were shared before you both passed out, cuddled up under your fluffy blankets, safe in Bucky's arms. Right where you were meant to be all along.

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

Thanks for reading!!! <3 <3 <3

[robron1609]

Robron Week 2021 - Day 1

Meet-Ugly + "That's not an explanation."

New Beginnings

(ao3 link)

Aaron’s eyelids fluttered like a candle in the wind, the hustle and bustle of the city pecking away at his head with a sledgehammer. The bitter taste of ale, the fruity taste of wine and all the combined spices of every spirit known to man were stagnant on his tongue as he peeled his damp limbs off the leather sofa beneath him.

He let out a dry cough and it felt like someone had shot him in the brain during his sleep. But other than that, he was as right as rain.

It took him longer than he would care to admit to remember that he did, in fact, not own a single item of furniture that had even an inch of leather on it, and he lived in the in the middle of bloody nowhere where the only thing (apart from his mother) that made him shake a leg in the morning was the bellows of Moira’s cows when their troughs were being topped up.

So, there’s that.

His brain caught up and he bolted upright, his whole face moulding into a sculpture of what, where, when, how and why. He took in his brand-spanking-new surroundings; a lavish penthouse overlooking London’s skyline, decked out from head to toe in a fusion of ultra modern and industrial pieces. Not really his style, to put it nicely. It looked like something straight off the front page of one of those overpriced interior design magazines on the top shelf of David’s shop that no one ever bought.

Aaron could only hope that whoever lived here was some bloke he’d pulled in the haze of last night, if it wasn’t then… what the actual fuck was he doing here?

When the room had stopped spinning on all its axis and Aaron was eighty-nine percent sure that he would be able to hold his vomit in if necessary, he braved the hallways in search of other life. He detoured to stand in front of a back-lit mirror that had beckoned him over, and he was introduced to his reflection. It gawked right back at him, dressed in nothing but a pair of neon yellow boxers and a Scottish flag that he was wearing as a cape. The flag was fastened loosely around his neck with a frayed shoelace and there was a big tear down the centre of it.

Jesus fucking shit. Absurd didn’t even begin to cover it.

Sweat dripped down his top lip when he heard a deep voice through the wall. He teetered around the corner until he was close enough to pick up most of the words.

“I won’t be in today.” There was a pause. “Does it fucking matter?” Nice manners, then. “Look, unless you want me hurling all over the new contact, I suggest you grow a pair and attend the meeting without me.”

Aaron gripped the glossed door frame, his clammy hands squeaking on the wood as he snuck a look at who the voice was coming from. The man was stunning. He was all sun-kissed skin, choppy blond hair, and a gorgeous mouth that dipped dramatically in the corner.

“Shit!” With a jolt, the blond dropped his phone and it landed on his face with a mocking smack.

“Sorry-”

“Why are you in my house?!”

“I’m Aaron.” No shit, Aaron.

“That’s not an explanation!”

“Sorry.”

Aaron cringed. All of a sudden he was big on apologies, apparently. Blondie was now sitting up, scratching the fluff on the nape of his neck as he shuffled out of bed and adjusted his duvet accordingly whenever it slipped below his waistline. He just glared at Aaron, waiting to hear something that made sense.

“I was kinda hoping you could tell me,” Aaron said, using all of his self-control to stop his eyes from drifting downwards. “My head’s mashed. I remember being on the train with Adam and Vic, and then-”

“Vic as in my sister Vic?”

Aaron just stood there, catching flies. “I- I dunno, I think so. Sugden?”

“Uh-huh.”

Ohhhh, Robert Sugden. Aaron finally put a name to the face and felt like giving himself a pat on the back.

…..

“Here you go. Extra strong.”

"Ta."

Aaron warmly accepted the cup of coffee, the steam flying off it and dissolving in his pores. He used the piping hot liquid to swamp down some paracetamol before tightening the strap on the dressing gown that Robert had lent him a little earlier with a side-eye and a grumbled, “Make sure you give it back.”

With the current cycle rumbling the machine into the ground, Aaron glanced at the digital timer displayed on the appliance. Just forty-eight minutes until he could grab his screwed up clothes, slap them on, and leg it to the underground with his tail between his legs. The longest forty-eight minutes of his life, no doubt.

Hoping to make a crack in the ice, Robert led Aaron to the scene of last night’s crime. Through the sliding doors, across the patio and up the spiral stairs, secluded in the corner and illuminated by the steady flicker of the firepit. Robert was surprised that it hadn’t burnt out in the early morning under the April showers.

The rooftop terrace was what sold this place for Robert. It was his haven, complete with everything that made his superficial heart weep. This morning, however, it looked how he felt.

He absorbed the aftershocks of his party (shards of glass littering the outdoor table, remains of finger foods welded to the deck, and a pair of nude stilettos abandoned on the bar) and sagged. Turning thirty was dismal enough without having to clean up after his colleagues. Or, as he liked to call them, a bunch of wound up, hoity-toity pen pushers who didn’t even know his middle name—just a sniff of free booze and they were squeezing into a Ralph Laurent polo that still had the label on, and patting him on back with a bout of boisterous laughter as if they were best mates.

Wow, he was in dire need of some proper friends.

Aaron propped himself up on the bar. “Bet you don’t get tired of this,” he said, looking out at the sparkling city.

“It’s a great hangover cure,” Robert said, nursing his Americano and watching the ripples dance over the surface as he lightly blew it. “It can be lonely, though,” he admitted, unsure as to why. This handsome and hungover stranger was just waiting for his ticket out of here, he didn’t want or need to become Robert’s agony uncle to fill the time, that was for sure.

“Why’s that?”

Oh. Perhaps Aaron, for one reason or another, cared. Or he’s got nowhere else he needs to be and Robert’s left him with no choice but to sit and listen because it's the polite thing to do. Aaron looked at Robert all doe-eyed and Robert wanted to stay here until he’d told Aaron every single intricate detail of his life up until this point. But that seemed a little crass.

“Don’t know, really. I just… don’t like to be alone with my thoughts, I suppose. And being up here, well, it’s a whole lot of that.”

“I know what you mean,” Aaron said. “How long have you lived here?”

"Nearly two years on the whole." Robert calculated, Aaron giving him an amicable nod in response. Robert licked the coffee froth off his lips, clearing his throat. "I've lived in London a while, though. Since I left the village, pretty much."

"And you never thought about going back?"

"I couldn't." That would mean looking back. And after the trail of destruction he'd left in his wake, that was never going to happen. They were better off without him. Or at least his Dad and Andy were. Vic and Dianne never stopped reaching out, however, offering their support through texts and unanswered voicemails.

Aaron changed the topic, sensing that Robert's internal trip down memory lane wasn't a smooth ride. "You heard anything from Vic and Adam?"

"They were both flat out in the spare room last time I checked," Robert answered. He'd been less than pleased to find them entwined together on top of the duvet, dead to the world as Adam slobbered away on the satin pillowcase like an excited dog, and Vic let out a mishmash of unconscious sounds from sniffles to whistles, her makeup crusty and her outfit dishevelled by a night's sleep in it.

"Vic had a whole itinerary planned. Some museum, Leicester Square, and then this ridiculous hipster coffee shop near the station," Aaron said with a dreary eye roll. "Even though our train leaves just after two."

"She's just excited. She doesn't come here often."

"'Suppose not."

"Anyway, I recommended that coffee shop so you better not miss it," Robert said. Aaron snorted because of course he did. "Come on."

Robert rose, perking up a bit as he stretched his arms until they clicked with satisfaction. Aaron followed in his footsteps, literally, but they stopped in their tracks, coming face to face with a rumbled Victoria.

She looked dead and alive all at the same time as she swung her phone about. "There they are, the newly engaged couple."

Robert choked on air and Aaron gave him a splash of side-eye before snatching Vic’s phone. "What are you on about?" And Aaron had to check that the digital date displayed in the top left corner of the screen wasn't April the 1st. Nope, it was indeed the 23rd. And under that was a Facebook post on his profile; a blurry, backlit photo of him and Robert flashing the camera with two rings that didn’t even match, accompanied by a slurred caption.

yayy ENGAAAAAGED! whoop whoop!! hears to many many many many many year <3

Aaron groaned, throwing his head back in sheer embarrassment when Vic grabbed a hold of his and Robert’s left hands. Sure enough, the rings were still there. “Oh my God,” she cackled, her voice like a siren in the middle of the night. “This is brilliant. A few more of those cocktails and you’d be halfway to vegas, ey?”

Robert massaged his temples, kneading roughly at his dry skin. “Whatever’s in them is lethal,” he grumbled, peering over Aaron’s shoulder as he watched him scroll through the comments and squeeze his eyes shut in disbelief at each one.

“It’s your bar, mate. You should know what it’s serving,” Aaron said. He had a point. “Let’s just pray we left it at cheap rings.”

(Aaron couldn’t even begin to fathom at what point during the party he and Robert had fled the penthouse and ended up at a jewellers of all places. Who’d thought a proposal was the perfect end to a not-so-perfect night? Who’d taken that photo? And who in their right mind was selling giant fabric flags in the early hours of the morning? It would be a miracle if he becomes sober enough to answer at least one of those questions.)

Robert pouted. “That’s a shame. I’ll cancel the tickets to Vegas, then,” he teased.

“I dunno, I could do with a holiday just to get over the shame.” Robert grinned at the younger man’s flirty tone.

“Cheers,” Robert scoffed. Aaron handed the phone back to Vic who watched the pair with a knowing glint in her eye, her head bouncing back and forth between them.

“Only joking,” Aaron said. “Could be worse.”

Vic pocketed her mobile with a yawn and tightened her ponytail. “Right, I’m gonna drag my lump of a boyfriend out of bed and start gathering our stuff. I’ll leave you two to plan the wedding of the century, shall I?”

Vic left the rooftop, her flats scuffing all the way down the metal staircase. Robert gulped down the remains of his coffee and turned to Aaron with a smirk.

“So, fiancé,”–Aaron shot Robert a fiery glare which, if Robert didn’t know any better, would leave a bruise on his ego–“I know a great place where we can get some brunch. Why don’t we ditch Vic and Adam and I’ll drop you off at King’s Cross after.”

Aaron pulled a face. “ Brunch? I’m not paying £8.99 for a plain scone.”

“My treat.” Robert offered, hoping that would seal the deal.

“Like a date?”

“If you want it to be.” Aaron paused for a beat, not that there was ever much to contemplate.

“Fine.” Robert didn’t miss the bashful smile taking over Aaron’s face. Robert bit the inside of his cheek when Aaron began to descend the stairs. He crammed his hands in his pockets, his heart going into overdrive as he kicked his feet into gear.

[patchoulimademoiselle]

Fruit. (Part 2.)

Tony Stark (Sugar Daddy) x Reader Insert.

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: Sugar daddy relationship, alcoholism, drunk driving, language, slight foot fetish?, public displays of affection, reader is a little brat. 

(Chapter 2 of the Guns n’ Glitter series.)

A fluttering of lips against your face, you turn away and bury yourself under your covers, desperately trying to cling to sleep for as long as you can. But Tony is persistent, hands on your hips tugging you against him.

His voice is low and hoarse in your ear, "Wake up." A chill ghosts up your spine as he squeezes your hip. "We're going out today, remember?"

Yes, you remember, his fingers laced with yours as you drove his car, he told you everything he wanted to do today, each statement followed with a kiss to your knuckles in promise. But you feel exhausted. Well not really, just too comfortable to get up, and his hands on you aren't helping. He kisses the back of your neck, baby hairs standing to attention at the sensation. "No," is all you can say, pushing your face further into the pillow.

What time is it? It's a Saturday, why is he rushing?

"Come on baby," He says, a strain in his voice as he tries to be patient. "The longer we lay here, the more time we waste."

That's right, you only have two days, you're only staying for the weekend, and that has you letting out a deep sigh through your nostrils, turning to look at him.

"Five more minutes?"

He smiles, "Only if you kiss me."

Yesterday you wanted nothing more than to stay up with him, but now, Saturday morning washing over you, you just want to sleep in.

So you do kiss him, a hand in his hair as you pull his face closer to yours. It's disgusting, too sloppy and too wet this early in the morning, a mix of morning breath and an occasional mash of teeth, but he's set on devouring you, his tongue in your mouth ever so slowly pushing you to lay on your back. But you've done worse.

He slots himself between your legs, hands on your hips pressing you firmly against the mattress, and when he bites your lip, the moan that comes from your throat sounds painful, scratching it's way up and out. He swallows it, humming in approval, lips pressing to yours gently to sooth his previous action.

"You know," A huff of breath against your lips. "Believe it or not, this was supposed to be innocent."

You scoff, nails scratching his scalp, his eyes slip closed. "You're the one who climbed on top of me." You press a kiss to his chin, the hairs of his beard tickling your face.

"I can't help it, you're just so," He catches himself, thumbs rubbing little circles against your hips. "You're perfect, and you're stalling." His eyes snap open, glaring at you. "You little devil. Get up."

He's off of you before you can protest, grabbing you by your wrists and pulling you with him. Cool air bites your bare skin, the warmth of the covers was all that was protecting you from the insanely low temperature of AC in your room. He smiles at you, running a hand through his hair.

"Put on something pretty? Be ready in twenty. I'm not kidding."

You do put on something pretty, something that makes him want to say fuck it and take you back to bed like you wanted all along. But first, you freshen up in the bathroom. You brush your teeth, then walk through a delicate skin care routine, products applies with the light tap of your ring finger. You apply a light layer of makeup, slick your hair into a pony tail with some gel, then you get dressed.

You put on a little pink dress with thin straps, shoulders bare and thighs proudly on display. You dress it up with a pair of heels and a mini bag, a cuban link chain on your neck, matching diamond earrings, and bracelets that jingle every time you take a step.

"Tight," His pinky finger is caught between his teeth when he sees you, because, "My god, you don't disappoint, do you?"

"I live to please, Mr. Stark." A bat of your eyelashes, and an air kiss against his cheek, you know you'll be in trouble later.

But for now, he lets you play your part, teasing him and winding him up, because he lives for reminding you of who wears the pants in the relationship.

He pick a different car this time, the Roadster, and for a moment you think he's going to let you drive again. Reading your mind, he kisses your cheek, not on your life, and holds your hand to help you inside.

The first stop is breakfast, the sun barely risen as you leave the garage, and you're squinting against the bright light to take a few pictures. Because daddy's rich, and he's taking you out today, and you can't help but feel entitled. You work hard for the things he gives you, so damn right you're going to brag about it. Because who else can say they have Tony Stark wrapped around their finger? He drives with the top down, giving you the perfect view of the State of California.

Breakfast is more like brunch, he drives you across the state to take you to a restaurant in L.A. It's nice, on the water and not too crowded since it's so early. The sun feels warm on your skin, a mimosa in your hand, Tony takes pictures on your phone for you. Your outfit is adorable, you get many complements, the kind that makes Tony's left eye twitch if someone stares at you for too long.

"You look like you're going to have a stroke." You say, nodding to his water. "Are you hot? Drink something."

He shakes his head, plucking the lemon from his ice water. "Keep it up." Is all he says, taking a sip.

You smile, faking innocent. "What?"

He has the nerve to smile back, mocking you. "You know exactly what." He says, looking up as the waiter brings your food.

You ordered an omelette with hash browns, and Tony ordered a stack of blueberry waffles. He pours the syrup for you both, and per his request you feed him a piece. You also order a fruit bowl, sharing it between you. Your fingertips and lips stain red from the strawberries, which earns you a sweet kiss from across the table.

"Blueberries or strawberries?" You ask him suddenly, his eyes floating up from his food to your face.

"Do I get to weigh my options?" He raises an eyebrow.

"You can walk me through it." You trace the rim of your glass with a single finger, and his eyes catch it for a moment before putting his knife and fork down.

"Well, they both stain." He says it with a deviant little smirk that turns your face the color of your lips. "But strawberries taste sweeter."

"Then why do you like blueberries so much?"

"I don't necessarily like them," He says. "But I don't mind them."

"You prefer strawberries but choose blueberry pancakes?" You ask.

He lets out a huff, reaching over for your mimosa. "Must you question everything I say and do?" He counters. "Is this boring you?" He's teasing you, so you don't respond. "There wasn't a strawberry pancake option on the menu, sweetie."

You are a bit bored, your pestering is a bad habit, find anything to pick apart simply because there is nothing else to do. So you decide to occupy yourself with another task, the man sitting across from you more than willing to receive your antics.

"Is this strong enough for you?" He asks, pulling a face, placing your drink back down in front of you. "Want some wine?"

Under the table, you slip your feet out of your heels. "It's not even lunch time." You point out. "Will they serve it?"

"Did you forget who you're talking to?" He waves down the waiter, and sure enough a bottle of their most expensive wine is brought out to you.

He pours you a glass, then another, matching your one with two for himself. Your cheeks are flushed with color before you can even finish your food, and of course Tony notices, eyes dark as he watches you tap your nails against your wine glass.

Thoughts cloud his mind, The smooth look of your skin in the sunlight, face glowing and kissed by the sun. The pout of your lips, tinted red in color from fruit juice and wine. Your cheeks are flushed, eyelashes fluttering against your cheek bones each time you blink. You're comfortable, relaxed, and that's all he wanted for you today.

But then his eyes wander, down your face and to the jewelry sitting on your collar bones, jewelry he bought for you. The dress you wear is tiny, he imagines that if he looks under the table he'll see your bare panties between your legs, it hugs you like a glove, reflecting the sunlight, and there's something seductive about the way your curves move fluidly each time you shift in your seat. And then, that ghost of your touch traveling up his leg, he thinks he's imagining it at first, but then you bite your lip, resting an elbow against the table to lean forward.

He reaches a hand down, catching your foot just as it reaches the top of his thigh, and you fail at concealing a gasp.

"Forgotten our table manners, have we?" He raises an eyebrow at you, making you sit up straighter, clearing your throat.

"Of course Mr. Stark. My apologies." You decide to play coy, holding your head high, reaching a hand up to fluff your pony tail. "How do you like the wine?"

To your surprise, he doesn't let you go, fingers inching up to your ankle. "It's sweet, strong." He says, "Fruity."

"I like it too." You say, bracelets jingling as you reach for another piece of fruit. "But I think I've had more than enough."

His finger slips, over your ankle and down the arch of your foot, and you flinch in response, knee knocking the table. Your eyes widen, and you're quick to save your wine glass from tipping over.

He laughs, dropping your foot. "I agree."

He holds his hand out suddenly, eyes glistening with a sense of mischief, and you're hesitant to place your hand in his. Slowly, he guides your hand to his mouth, sucking your fingers clean of syrup and fruit juice. His tongue slides across your skin, dipping between your fingers and trailing up to the pads of your finger tips. His tongue is hot, warm, his eyes never leaving yours as he licks you clean, as he tastes you. Then as if nothing happened at all, he reaches over to dab your lips with a napkin, kissing the underside of your wrist before letting you go.

He waves down the waiter for what feels like the tenth time, leaving you flustered, wanting something much sweeter than fruit. But Tony has the day planned for you already, so you bite your tongue and let him drag you around the city, stealing one last sip of wine before you leave.

Your nail appointment is booked for noon, and it takes over two hours to get done. But being tipsy helps the process, bursting into a fit of giggles each time you look over at Tony. He sits beside you with his phone in hand, playing a game, which he lets you watch occasionally. He looks like a bored child, dragged out for a day of shopping with their mother.

When asked what color you want, Tony's hand on your thigh, you decide to let him pick.

"Red," he says, lips lingering at the corner of your mouth.

Red like those strawberries, like the juice he licked from your fingers, like the wine that's clouding your judgement. Red like the car he let your drive yesterday, red like your cheeks, because you know what he's implying. Red is his color, and now he's making you wear it.

But you continue to tease him, crossing and uncrossing your legs, arching your back to stretch your spine, shifting back and forth to pull your dress down. His eyes hardly ever leave you, looking up only when you turn to smile at him. He tells you to behave, which you blatantly ignore, shifting in your seat to face him. He doesn't complain though, taking in the sight of you, watching you relish in the feeling of being pampered.

On a couple accent nails, you get crystals and rhinestones, fingers catching the light as you hold your hand out for his credit card to pay.

Keep it up, his eyes are screaming consequences at you for your bratty behavior. But you can't help it. He's torturing you with a good time, so you're returning the favor. You thank him with a wet one right on his lips, his hand on the small of your back to guide you out of the salon and back into the warm California air.

Your heels click against the pavement, hair swaying in tune with the switch of your hips, and you can't stop staring at your new nails, hands spread out in front of you as you examine them in the sunlight. Tony has good taste, the red really does suit you after all.

"Are you hungry?" You just ate a couple hours ago, but you can go for a snack. So you nod, grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers. "Want some ice cream?"

Ice cream. Tony Stark has a wicked sweet tooth, or maybe he just wants to see your lips wrapped around an ice cream cone. Either way, he buys you one, strawberry for you, cookie dough for him. You let him have a lick, and you're half tempted to smear it across his face.

You're surprised that you don't get any on your clothes, especially with the rate your ice cream is melting under the sun. It takes several wet napkins to clean your hand free of that sticky feeling, because you don't think you can handle Tony licking your fingers a second time.

There's something cute about watching Tony eat ice cream, something that makes you take a picture of him, which earns you a scolding about being addicted to your cell phone. You remind him of your age difference, which has him grabbing your hip and rolling his eyes. You're just trying to get a rise out of him, and it's working, the remnants of his ice cream gone, both of his hands on you now.

"You like my age." He says, voice low and eyes squinting against the sun. "In fact, if I were closer to your age you wouldn't like me at all."

It's true, you don't like men your own age. You're too mature for that, you're chasing a career, and boys your age just want to get drunk and party all the time. Tony is a business man, an established business man, someone who encourages you to work hard and chase your dreams. Boys your age could never.

So you seal his affirmations with a kiss, "Just don't let it get to your head."

It's far too late for that already, his hand in yours as you drag him down the street.

You decide to stop in the shopping mall, Tony tucks a wad of cash in your purse and tells you to go crazy. So you do. Gucci, Chanel, Fendi, you're reaching for cash more than you can keep track of, burning through it far too quickly. When you ask for his credit card instead, he appears unphased as you run up his bill, handing him receipts to sign and bags to carry. You spend hours shopping, trying things on for him, dragging on the occasion as long as you can.

He hardly ever lets you go shopping. He much rather prefers to gift you things, let you order online instead of getting up and going to an actual store. He prefers the privacy and convenience, but today he's in a spoiling mood, tolerating all of your antics so that you can treat yourself.

You don't mean to act like a brat, he just makes it fun. You truly do appreciate all he does for you, and you decide to remind him of that when you're ready to go, wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight hug.

"All shopped out?" He asks, lips pressed to your ear.

"My feet hurt, and I'm hungry again."

He can hear the pout in your voice, which makes him laugh, an arm tucking around your waist. "I bet. You might as well have run a marathon in those shoes today."

You pull back, looking down at them. "They're cute."

"Very cute." He kisses your nose. "Let's go."

He loads your millions of shopping bags into the trunk, and you take your heels off while you wait, letting your hair down just for a moment to massage your scalp. You reapply a bit of lip gloss and blot your forehead using your phone camera as a mirror, refreshed by the time he's finished stacking everything in the trunk.

He takes you to an authentic Italian restaurant for dinner, the menu's written in actual Italian, which Tony has no trouble translating for you. You knew he was Italian, but hearing him speak it is another story.

You order pasta and a salad, trying to be good after eating an entire basket of bread sticks. But good never lasts too long when in Tony's company, a glass of champagne is set in front of you and all morals are out of the window. You drink until you can no longer feel the pain in your feet, twirling your fork full of pasta to feed to him across the table. You're not a light weight, but he makes sure you're responsible, encouraging you to drink water and eat more bread.

He lets you sample off of his plate as well, speaking in hushed tones as he fusses over you. Are you sure you're okay? Take a break and drink some water. No more. Okay fine, this is the last one. Yes, drinking out of my glass still counts. Watch your arm, don't set it on your food. It's cute, and it keeps you smiling all night.

Tony made good on his promise to treat you today, good food, a fresh set of acrylics, and cute clothes. You felt thoroughly spoiled, shopped out and ready to go back to the house.

But he isn't finished yet.

"You got to do everything you wanted," He says, wiping his mouth clean on a napkin. "Now it's my turn."

You groan, thinking that he's going to do some shopping for himself. If that were the case, he could have been doing it with you the entire time. But that isn't what he meant at all, your eyes wide as he walks you to a jewelry store, hand firm on your back just in case. You're tired, and drunk, but nothing beats the sight of diamonds.

"I have something special in mind." He pulls his shades from his face and tucks them onto the collar of his shirt, like the true asshole that he is. Too cool to even make eye contact with the poor guy behind the register. "Something custom."

It's not everyday that a store owner sees Tony Stark walk in, so Tony cuts him some slack, flashing him a smile.

"Of course. What do you have in mind?"

It's whispered behind his hand, out of earshot and out of your line of vision. You're instantly annoyed, stepping away from him to look at the display case behind you.

He's back on you in an instant, hands next to yours on the glass, his chest against your back. He kisses your cheek, sensing your change in mood. "It will only take about an hour. Until then, let's take a look around?"

With all the spending he's already done on you, you figured he would be done. Apparently not. "Sure," You say, turning your face against his lips, stealing a quick kiss. "Thank you for today."

"That's the whole point of this, isn't it?" It's his own weird way of saying you're welcome, but it makes you roll your eyes anyway, stealing another kiss.

You're undeniably handsy, clinging to his arm as he walks you around the jewelry store. You're a bit bored though, your collection is already large enough to be over the initial excitement of basic diamonds and gold. But something does catch your eye eventually, nail between your teeth as you stop dead in your tracks.

"See something you like?"

Nail tapping against the glass, "That one." It's a cuban link chain, encrusted with pink diamonds, "I don't have a pink one."

He realizes that you don't, so it's added to his tab. So is a pair of earrings, an anklet, another necklace, by the time his custom piece is done, you've run up the total three times what it would have been originally. Oops, he doesn't seem to mind though, once again swiping his card, not blinking twice at the price. You consider this payment for making you stay out so late.

He's silent as you walk back to the car, arm tight around your shoulders, he holds the bag just out of your reach, and you feel like a child being restricted from having too much candy. You just want to hold your spoils.

"Are you still not going to let me drive?" You ask, and the laugh he lets out actually shocks you.

"God, no. You can barely keep your eyes open. Yesterday was different." Yesterday wasn't different, but you don't complain as he leans you against the car, walking off to place the jewelry bag in the trunk with the others.

You take it upon yourself to climb in, landing hard against the passenger seat. You pull your hair free form it's pony tail and kick off your shoes, placing them up on the dashboard. You can tell that he's tired too, letting out a little huff as he gets in the car finally. You smile, raking your nails across his scalp, and he enjoys your touch for a moment.

"I was going to fuck the shit out of you," He says, eyes barely open, "But I think we're both a bit too tired for that now."

You visibly deflate, pouting as you lean over the console, kissing his forehead. "Can't hang old man?"

He laughs, pointing a finger at you. "You're drunk, and we have a long ride home."

He does have a point though, by the time you do actually get home you doubt you'll be able to do anything.

"I got something for you." He says, breaking your silence.

You laugh, "You got me a lot of somethings."

"No," He shakes his head. "A special something."

"I want to see."

"Tomorrow. I promise." The smile he gives you is dazzling, washing away your annoyance almost instantly. "We need to sleep."

He looks a little guilty, but you don't hold it against him, enjoying the warmth of his hand on your thigh as he drives.

The radio down low, wind blowing your hair, you can barely hear him when he asks, "Did you have fun today?"

You nod, doing your best to look over at him. "Thank you."

He pats your thigh reassuringly, the touch comforting. "You're welcome, baby. Anything for you."

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