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irndad · 1 year

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in every other life- s.r.

a/n: my soul is in this mf fic. there's a lil sexual tension lol! this is a behemoth of pining. so much fucking pining. this guy needs you like air wtf!! ALSO the poem is from a book, the lover's dictionary by david levithan. summary: the love of spencer's life is also his best friend, and she goes on a few dates. he does not handle it well, internally. ft. metaphysics by our dear genius boy. wc: 3.3k (holy shit)

While he recognizes that no direct injustice has actually been done to him, he can’t help but feel that it’s so unfair.

Because Spencer had never actually wanted much of anyone, actually. He was too much of a child through his entire education, and he’d found anyone that he’d even consider had almost instantly had dismissed him. He’d grown used to a life where companionship wasn’t a desire that crossed his mind.

But he wanted her.

His lovely friend, his coworker, who was the kind of lovely that it feels unfair you’d ever have to take your eyes off of. She’s the best person he’s ever met, the sort of wonderful you read about but never convince yourself you’ll ever see. He knows the shape of her, has her form memorized from watching, waiting for her to step into the office every day.

It was only a matter of time until he wasn’t the only one with his eye on her.

She’s actually absurdly easy to want. There’s nights where they watch something, often what he picked, Doctor Who or some other science fiction which would be great if he could focus on anything but her. Her warm disposition ruminating his too-small apartment with a kind of light that follows his every movement. He’d adore her even if she wasn’t, but it’s impossible to ignore how beautiful she is- the kind of pretty that you hardly expect to see in real life.

“Hey you,” her so-sweet voice is what breaks him out of his daydreaming, and he looks up at her lovely face smiling down at him. Fondness seeps through her tone, and it’s everything he can do not to preen that her first thought at seeing him is one of pleasure.

“Hey back,” he says, greeting her with a warm grin of his own. “How was your weekend?”

It’s a calculated question.

She had canceled their weekly movie night. He’d tried not to look too disappointed, like the idea of her next to him on his couch, of her nimble fingers raking through his unkempt hair while something nice, but far less wonderful than his company played in the background wasn’t all that was keeping him going. These days, and he knows it’s likely delusion, that she sometimes seems to gaze back at him with a similar sort of desperation, hooded eyes and tenderness.

It’s a liminal space, those nights. How can people be two things at once? You cannot be both in love and not. In the low-light of his place, under his blanket- it’s like Schrodinger’s experiment. She can’t love him like a friend and more at the same time- it resists the laws of physics. She is his best friend, a fact he knows as sure as gravity and the elements, and believing anymore than that- it’s asserting an impossibility.

When they’re alone together, though. It seems like the impossible exists.

But she’d canceled it, something she hadn’t done for the months they’d been engaging in their little tradition. So there had to be a reason. She sits next to him, her desk next to his.

She looks a little disheveled, only in an adorable way- but a little like she’s been busy, like her flow is disrupted.

“It was good! I finally went out with that guy Penelope’s been begging me to let her set me up with.”

It’s all that he can do not to freeze up.

Penelope has been trying to get her to go out with her friend Ben, which Spencer thinks is a stupid name, by the way, and secretly he’d been so, so pleased when she had brushed off the invite. It’s a dangerous thing, hope. He tries not to have too much of it, tries to savor the thought of her, of more for moments of particular vulnerability. It’s treacherous, to want her the way he does. He knows he can’t let himself feel it all the way.

And logistically- romance is not a reason for a valid reason for him to be panicking the way he is, but all he can think about is the physics. Two opposite things cannot be true at the same time.

“You know, studies suggest that even now, the majority of couples are meeting in person or through friends over any other medium.”

It hurts to say. She’s part of a couple, one half a whole that he doesn’t complete.

“Seriously? I’d have thought it’d changed by now. I guess it’s safer to date someone you know.”

She’d date someone she knew? Is that what she prefers?

“How did it go?” He hears Emily ask, and this conversation is already the bane of his existence.

“Guys, it really wasn’t a big deal! We got dinner, it was just a little thing.”

Spencer isn’t experienced in dating, but he does know that dinner is a serious date. Coffee is a smaller thing, but dinner-

Dinner means she got pretty for him. Probably picked out a dress for the evening, spent time on a carefully manicured look. Spent hours of her precious, rare, time on him.

It’s not fair how much he fucking hates this guy.

“Dinner is not nothing!” Penelope squeals, and he would love to share in her excitement, except it kind of feels like a piece of his heart is being shredded.

“Dinner means coming up to my place, have coffee, oh look who doesn’t have her hair done-“

Please kill me, he thinks. Please.

“Oh, that definitely did not happen.”

Thank god.

Except he can’t miss her flush, how her expression shifts- and he has the sickening feeling he’d be hearing that guy’s name again.

When they all settle around the table, her doe eyes focused on gruesome images that were the exact antithesis of her spirit, he couldn’t help but feel that even if it hurt, there was finality.

The cat was out of the box. Two things cannot be true at once, and so only one is- she does not love him, at least not the way he does.

Ben, is not in fact, going away.

If he had more willpower or self-preservation, Spencer would keep his distance from her, but the truth of it is that as much as he wants to be the person she turns to, her smile is most of why he can stand his job anymore.

It’s a Tuesday, and everyone is grumbling about being pulled in early in the morning, but he’s just happy to have a reason to leave the house.

“Spence!” He hears her excited voice carry, the pretty sound picking his ears up at once. “I got you coffee. It’s hazelnut, and it’s like, 90% sugar. You’re gonna love it.”

She beams at him, and he takes it in his hands. Their hands brush, and he tries so hard not to notice how soft her hands are. Her name is on the cup, and an unconsenting fantasy of her name meaning that he’s hers creeps into his mind before he can bat it away.

But her cup says Ben.

“Thanks,” he says her name, tries to sound measured and friendly. “Coffee date?”

She preens, and god, if this guy doesn’t get how lucky he is it might be thing thing that actually sends him over the edge after all these years.

“Just a quick thing, we were just in the same place and he bought me a coffee, I’d already gotten yours.”

If there’s two roles he can fill and he doesn’t get to pick, if he’s stuck with friends, he’s gonna be great at it, and he’s gonna be grateful. Because knowing her is a grace in itself, the kind of thing you should could yourself so lucky to have.

“He sounds like a great guy,” he hears himself say, “I’m glad you’re doing this.”

It’s the right thing to say. He’s sure of it. The thing he’s not sure of is why the smile she offers him doesn’t reach her eyes.

The next time he notices the cracks in their relationship, it’s when they’re out. She’d suggested this bookstore-cafe kind of thing, and he’d jumped at the thought, all of his favorite things in one afternoon. He’d felt foolish spending so much time picking out his outfit out, wearing the blazer she’d once complimented-he’d actually stuttered so hard in thanks that Morgan laughed for a full minute when she left the room- but she always looked beautiful, and he knows he sometimes pales in comparison.

“Oh, I love this one!” She thumbs over the spine of a thin book of poetry. She’s wearing a forest green sweater that hugs her frame, and a bracelet hangs on her delicate wrist. He loves looking at her, though he tries to conceal it. His goal of being a supportive friend includes trying not to make it that known how gone for her he is.

“I don’t read too much poetry,” he admits, “But I’m sure you have excellent taste.”

Her keen eyes skim through the pages intently, clearly seeking out a specific passage before stopping, gaze alight with recognition.

Her tone is molasses-sweet when she begins reading, and his heart skips a beat.

“When I say be my lover,” her voice hitches, reverent of the quote and he is reverent of her, “ I don’t mean ‘let’s have an affair. I don’t mean Sleep with me. I don’t mean Be my secret. I want us to go back to that root. I want you to be the one who loves me. I want to be the one who loves you.”

It feels impossible to look away from her, doe eyes practically sparkling in the low light of the shop, and there it is. His heart’s in his throat. Of all the things you could have told Spencer he’d experience, hearing her lovely voice wrap around the words be my lover in hushed tone, in sacred sweetness, would never ever be one he’d guess.

He’s not sure how he feels about the multiverse theory, but right now, he can feel all the versions of himself pressing right up against him. Can see into lives he doesn’t get to live, lifetimes where his love isn’t a buried, worn-out tattered thing to keep his ever-frigid chest warm. Versions of himself that in this very moment can smile back at her, warm and open and kind, and kiss her perfect smile.

Because he would be her lover. He would come home to her, spend the rest of his life building a home that she could fit into. It’d be easy, actually. She’s easy to imagine- nights of laughing in a shared kitchen, evenings where her company is a fine wine, sipped at leisure with the comfort of knowing it’s never going to slip from your grasp.

“I like that,” he says, voice too vulnerable for his own good, eyes unable to tear from the eye contact. “I really like that.”

In the root of it, he already is her lover. He is the one who loves her. She’s just not his.

It comes to a head on a Friday. It’s a few weeks from he book shop, and the air feels heavier between them now. The last handful of Fridays he’s sat with the ghost of what used to be their plans, empty time lingering where in its’ place used to be her company.

He doesn’t know if she’s been with Ben. He tries not to think about it.

The sound of her voice lingers in his mind, sweet and bitter in his mind like old lemon candy, the kind his mother would save for special occasions. He’d spend any amount of money he had to hear her lovely voice say those words to him out of the context of a poem.

At work, they seem almost normal. Like one of them wasn’t desperately in love with the other; like a genius and his lovely, incredibly empathetic, kind best friend. In the field, their actions flow together seamlessly. She is always the first to listen and to understand (and god, isn’t it intoxicating to have someone meet you in understanding) and there is nothing to suspect is off.

But there’s still a cloud lingering. The poem- the soft melody of her voice curling around the words, the request of it all, the way she had sounded so wanting- and then, there’s Ben.

She doesn’t mention Ben to him, of course, but Penelope does. Penelope, all bows and bright colors and cheeriness keeps bringing the absolute worst news to Spencer with a smile on her face.

He’s taking her out for drinks! Oh, he’s reading her favorite book, do you know what it is?

This anger isn’t an emotion that he’s familiar with. A roar of possessiveness, the bite of it not tempered at all by rationality. Has he touched her?

It seems almost a tradition at this point when she shakes him out of his jealous storm of thought.

“Spence?” she muses, “You alright?” They’re alone at his desk, everyone having fled for their own evening and weekend plans. This was one of the Fridays that she had agreed to spend with him, and he wonders if he’ll be able to handle the scent of her shampoo so close after such a lapse of the sensation. Will all of his judgement go where he can’t follow?

“Yeah,” he says, tucking his papers into his bag, “I’m excited for tonight.”

His place is actually a short walk from the office. He’d been embarrassed to show her the place at first. It’s all function over fashion, and a bit cramped, but she’d looked at as though it was made of something more, something good. She didn’t even tease him. It had actually been her idea, to start these movie nights.

Ironic, really.

The walk was pleasant, the weather a little frigid but still nice, and she looks beautiful under the setting sun. It’s incredible to him, how her lashes catch the light and make her irises look like polished stained glass. His favorite color. Through the looking glass of another life, he sees a version of himself that gathers her up in his arms. In this daydream, she grants him one of her smiles that seems to carry its’ own light, and leans into his body like it’s the only thing that keeps her steady. It’s so clear. On the other side of the veil, he kisses her reddening nose, and keeps her warm himself.

In the here and now, Her coat is long, and hangs low by her ankles. It’s an elegant thing, like the woman who wears it, and Spencer would be grateful for a lifetime of just looking.They stop in front of his door, some invisible force stopping him from entering.

She sheds the coat inside his home. It smells like the candle she got him for his birthday, a reminder of her grace. He’s saved a bottle of wine for them, a sweet thing for the sweetest thing he’s known.

“I’m sorry,” she speaks the warmth of the beverage on her tongue, and it should feel abrupt but it doesn’t.

“What for?” He can’t imagine what she would have to apologize for.

“I know things have been…off between us,” she says carefully, considering the phrasing of each word. He watches her with a reverence, his hazel eye brimming with affection with nowhere to go. “You’ve been so great through it.”

Her legs are thrown across his own, and she’s dangerously close to sitting in his lap, but not exactly. He’s missed having her this close, the last time she’d been in his orbit was before she’d had reason to be gone. She smells floral. He fights With limited filtering through his already treacherous mind he thinks, He can’t take this from me. I still get her like this.

“I’m not entirely sure what it is.”

She slowly shuts her eyes, go for a moment to somewhere he can’t follow. Her cheeks are rosy from the cold.

“This whole Ben thing.”

“Oh.”

Logically, it always had to come back to this. Someone else had the good fortune to know her like this, to be the person she reads poetry to in deep meaning to.

He’s been stealing moments from someone who’s not his to take them from.

“I don’t even know how I wanted you to react.” she murmurs, staring at the rim of her glass.

“I just want you to be happy” His voice is something low, grit in the sound of it. His hand rests on her thigh. There’s warmth blanketing the room and he wants to kiss her. He wants to kiss her all the time.

She laughs, but it’s not her normal laugh. It’s tinny and a little bitter. He pushes his luck, and reaches out to brush the side of her face, moving the hair but still holding her face. Her breath smells like strawberry wine and temptation.

It feels different tonight. Low light and tension that could be sliced with wire. Every part of her is in reach, and something in the air makes all of this talk of relativity, of physics, moot.

Like maybe he’s not in the only world they don’t end up together.

Her face is warm and soft under his touch and he loves the sight of her. He’s never touched her like this. Every point of contact feels electric, addicting.

“What is it? The Ben thing?” He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to hear. What he wants, is for her to tell him that it doesn’t matter anymore, that she picks him-

“I only went out with him the once.”

“What?”

“I told Penelope I was still going because it made her happy and she said I couldn’t keep going to your apartment and reading you poetry and call that romance.”

Romance?

Wasn’t it romance, though?

Her eyes widen in something akin to horror.

“Shit, Spence- I’m sorry, that is so fucked of me to say-“

“You,” he tries to say calmly, “aren’t going out with Ben.”

She blinks.

“No?”

He has spent so much time living in other lives, existing in the minds of versions of himself he wasn’t lucky enough to be. Drinking coffee imagine a life colored in her presence, falling asleep yearning for the presence of something lighter than what he has to carry.

He can’t exist in two places. That was the entire basis of the experiment.

He moves his other hand to hold hers, and somehow she’s shifted to being on top of him, and he looks up at her with unwavering desire.

Spencer isn’t good at wanting people, but it comes naturally with her. Less of an action and more an urge, a course of motion to which he is at the mercy of. This is what leads him to close the gap between them, and kiss her. It’s

Her delicate fingers run through his hair, and she can’t be close enough, please, and he could spend the rest of his life kissing her, actually. He probably will spend the rest of his life thinking about the soft sigh he pulls out of her.

“I want it to be me,” he manages to say through shallow breath, still so close that his lips brush hers every other word, “I want to be the one you pick. I want it to be me.” His hazel eyes seem to shift in the moment, swirling with emotion.

She brushes a lock of his overgrown hair out of his face. He normally shaves when he sees her, but he’d been so busy that he’d forgotten, and felt embarrassed of it now. That is, until she runs her index finger along the edge of his jawline.

It’s then she leans down and kisses him again, pliant and good, his hands around her waist. He breathes a prayer into her mouth, one that hopes that she never ever comes to her senses about him.

“Spence,” she says, her voice golden silk, a kindness. “There was never anyone else to pick.”

#spencer reid #spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic

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xprakzif · 15 days

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LOVE YOU GOODBYE,

matt x fem!reader

summary: when matt’s career gets in the way of his relationship, his girlfriend simply cannot take it anymore. what better way to say goodbye than this?

warnings:: MDNI//SMUT, car sex, overstimulation, raw intercourse, kissing, angst, no happy ending.

“just one more time?”

the chilly breeze of the night rushed in causing both bodies to shiver. her short mini dress with lack of sleeves or a jacket only worsened the setting. the hair around her shoulders wasn’t doing her any favors by warming her up.

her tear stained cheeks illuminated by the street lamps occasionally flickering with him standing in front of her. so majestic yet full of shit, how could he stand there so beautifully after breaking her heart?

“face it, matt. i understand this is your job, i get that and i know you have to do this. you have to go hang out with other girls, you have to film and stream all the time, i know! but even when there’s time you don’t bother..” her heart pounding against her chest feeling like she was slowly sinking. she didn’t mean to come off this way. but it gets tiring after a while.

“i don’t know what you want me to do..” he didn’t even look her way, still looking out into the crowd of bodies that filled his shared home.

“yet you throw a party? shit, this is the closest thing i get to-“

“it wasn’t even my idea, y/n! you swear you get me but you don’t, ‘cause if you did, you’d know i don’t even want any of this! it was chris’s idea to invite some people over—shit, it’s not even a party for real. you always do this.. i’m just as tired as you are, alright?” his sudden outburst snapped a few heart strings, she felt herself breaking down quicker by the second.

the booming voices made her racing heart only beat faster. maybe she’s the problem. maybe her leaving would solve his worries, cut back the stress he’s dealing with.

“okay..” she whispered, face heating up as her eyes burned with tears. she continuously swallowed the nerves in her throat but nothing could stop the pain in her heart right now.

she moved through the room trying to find an escape, an exit. haven’t even noticed she let loose and sobbed, ruining her eye makeup.

finally reaching the front door, she stepped out trying to slam the door behind her, but something was in the way.

“cmon, y/n..” matt took ahold of her arm, which she ripped out of his grip to walk off.

from an outsiders point of view, it’d look like he was chasing her. her heels clicking against the cement as she made her way to her car parked a bit far from their house.

“please- wait!”

getting to her car, she finally spun around,

“no, matt! i’m done- with you, with us.. i’m sorry.” she managed to get out. he took in her figure underneath the glooming street lamp. it looked like a scene from a movie.

“what..?”

“i’m sorry.. i don’t wanna be in the way of your career anymore–please don’t convince me otherwise..”

he stood shut, a part of him knew she was right.

he felt his heart tense up as if it were being squeezed. thought they were both going through such heartbreak, neither of them could help but admire the other.

after all, she was his–or atleast used to be. it wasn’t unlikely for him to lust over her, now just wasn’t the right time.

both of them couldn’t deny how sexually frustrated they were. she was right, matt hadn’t spent enough time with her. neither of them were disloyal, so the days added on and on.

he couldn’t help but realize her beauty, even with eyeliner and mascara running down her stained cheeks. if anything it only made her more exquisite.

him standing there, dark purple bags under his eyes from the lack of rest he had gotten these past weeks, his bright blue eyes looking up and down her body. she felt the need as much as he did.

his slow steps toward her made her head spin. he placed a delicate hand to her cheek, caressing it while he looked into her eyes.

“just.. one more time?” he whispered. “as a goodbye..”

there was no need for context when they both knew what that meant. she grabbed the back of his neck, drawing him closer to smash his lips onto hers.

the world around them paused, no care for the party that was going on just a few houses away.

struggling by reaching in her purse, she searched with her hand for her car key unlocking it in the process. the lights flashing for a second took matt’s attention to pull open the backseat door; pushing their bodies onto the cushioning of the seats.

she laid on her back, matt crawling on top of her after closing the door. it was such a cramp space but neither seemed to care too much.

he reconnected their lips to move in synchrony, their hands roaming each others body.

“matt-” she whispered breathlessly, tugging at his hair.

his touch grazed over the thin fabric of her mini dress, trailing down to grip onto her hips. the opposite hand pulling up the material over her waist, revealing her lacey panties.

her hands began unbuckling his belt and undoing his baggy jeans. somehow, he’d shifted them so she was now straddling his lap.

he trailed his hands down to her hips, once again holding onto them while they moved with rhythm, grinding onto his crotch.

“fuckkk– y/n..” he dragged out.

the car filled with heavy breathing and the smacking sound of lips, causing the windows to fog. matt was sat up, back against he car door. she felt the stiffness in his pants through her panties that were damp and sticky.

breaking the kiss, she reached down to tug the fabric down her legs; it was difficult in such an awkward position, but her eagerness made it happen.

he watched her with gleaming eyes as if she were a display of art in a museum. pulling down his jeans, including his boxers, he freed his hardened cock that sprung up.

she aligned her entrance with his length, sinking down slowly; she gasped. he sucked in air between his teeth, seething at the feeling of her tightness gripping around him.

she was swallowing him whole as her hips dove lower to collect him fully into her.

“keep going— that’s it-ahh, take it all..” he groaned and she was fully sat with him deep inside her.

she began rolling her hips forward, reconnecting their lips in the process. the kiss was sloppy. her mouth opening constantly to let out breathless moans from bouncing on his cock.

it sounded like they just ran a marathon with the amount of heavy breathing. he tried his best to buck his hips upward to feel her deeper inside.

“fuck!–so deep—nngh- need to–”

he took everything in his power to thrust deeper and harder with a quickened pace to bring her closer.

she threw her head back with pleasure, clenching around his base as her orgasm washed over her.

“matt–ma– ah–“ she stammered out while she stiffened up with trembling thighs, digging her nails into his shoulders.

he wasn’t far behind her. groaning while slamming up into her, she was caught in a trance by the overstimulation.

“ohmy– nngh—fuckkk, i love y-you–i lov–” he echoed into the car, shooting white ropes of his seed into her painting her slimy walls.

there was a ring of a bubbly, white substance around his cock, a mix of both of there liquids.

they panted trying to come down from their highs. she felt a pang in her chest; the sudden realization hit and hit hard.

this was it. the last dance.

she started to remove her self from him,

“wai-wait. don’t leave yet.” he helped her off, “it’s late, y/n. just stay the night, please.”

she thought for a minute. he was right, though they weren’t aware of the current time, it was late. she thought about the dangers of driving so late on a friday night,

“alright.. fine”

after fixing themselves up, they found their way back to the house. the ‘get together’ the boys were hosting had already died down. no one noticed them slip into matt’s room.

“here,” he handed her one of his larger shirts, "wouldn’t want you sleeping in that..”

“thanks..” she accepted the offer, still feeling hurt with the tension from someone she was once so comfortable with.

she changed, slipped under the covers, and took a deep breath.

he got in right behind her, they were faced away from eachother, she thought.

“y/n?” he whispered, clear enough for her to hear.

“hmm?”

“i love you..” he watched her body expanded with every breath she took. he was facing her the entire time.

“i-i love you too..” she whispered, her voice steady but her eyes brimmed with tears.

the night fell silent. both bodies drifting to sleep after losing energy from their previous actions.

it came morning time quickly, matt shifted in his spot as the sunlight peeked through the curtains.

he recalled being with her last night, joy awakening him. he rolled over to the other empty side of the bed.

empty? this can’t be right, she was here..

he felt like he remembered a bad dream from last night. quickly grabbing his phone to call his girlfriend.

the line rang once.

“you have reached the voicemail box of—“ rang too loud in matt’s ears, he quickly shut it off. his heart began to race.

baby? •!Not Delivered

his mind soon flooded with the memories they shared, then it got to last night.

that wasn’t a dream after all.

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bangtanficsforyou · 3 months

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Hello, Love (JJK)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, probable smut (we don't know yet lololol)

Rating: 18+

Summary: You had a plan when you returned home, seven years later. However, falling in love with your sister's fiance wasn't it.

Warning: mentions of drug addiction, familial neglect.

A/N: Based on a movie 😏📸. Also, here's a post explaining why I disappeared.

Playlist | Patreon

“So you’re getting married tomorrow, huh?” the rhetorical question slips from your mouth with a smile. A smile that in every way looks, forced.

You don’t know what you were thiniking. But a part of you, just wanted to have a conversation with your sister. Maybe you had hoped for it to be like one of those conversations. The kind that you’d see in movies, taking place between two sisters, when one is about to hit a big milestone.

Maybe a little reminscing about the old days. A little recallation of the past times when you both got into trouble. Joking about the embarassing moments. A little laughter, a few tears and hearts filled with warmth.

“Yes, I am,” your sister replies without bothering to look up.

You linger at the doorway for a moment and then realise how stupid you were.

You nod, knowing very well that this is pretty much the end of the conversation–if you could even call it that. You let the door shut quietly and slip out of the room.

Tomorrow, your sister is getting married. Your elder sister, to be more specific.

She is getting married to the man she loves, to the man she has been in a relationship with for seven years.

The man, who unfortunately happens to be the one you have fallen in love with, in the span of these last few weeks.

Oh how did you get into this mess and expect it to result into anything other than heartbreak?

SEVEN YEARS AGO

The loud music playing through the speakers tempts you to join the ongoing celebrations. You look at the joyful faces of your family members and a smile appears on your face. Lord knows when you will be seeing them next.

“Please take care of yourselves,” you whisper, knowing very well that you should leave as quickly as possible.

However, your gaze lingers on one person in particular. Your father. Oh, how you wish you could just hug him once before leaving. But that might not be a smart move. Your resolve might weaken on feeling his arms around you. No, you cannot afford that.

You take a deep inhale and turn away from the wedding celebrations. You march towards the exit gate with hurried steps. Your feet however, come to a halt when you spot one of your friends chatting with some guy near the gate. Shit. You turn away immediately and flee the spot before she can spot you.

Once you’re sure that there is no way for her to see you, you release a sigh of relief. You have no idea how you’d have explained the bags and luggage you’re currently carrying, had she seen you.

The thought of that makes you feel more urgency to leave this wedding venue. You look around frantically hoping that there would be some other gate. You do spot one, however, there stands your father’s uncle’s son’s son, who has seemingly found this to be the ideal smoking spot.

A few moments later, you come to the conclusion that there is indeed, only one way to escape this place. You need to climb over the wall.

You find a quiet place, away from the crowd, that has very dim lighting. You throw your bags over the wall and wait for the thud to confirm that your bags have landed on the other side. Then, you roll the sleeves of your shirt up and get ready for the difficult part; the climbing.

Thanks to your experience with tree climbing, you somehow successfully manage to climb the wall at your second attempt. However, it’s that wired fence that causes you more trouble than you would have ever imagined.

Somehow, it gets stuck to the back of your shirt in such an awkward position that you cannot even grab a hold of it properly. The only way for you to get your shirt unstuck would be to pull the piece of cloth hard enough. But then you cannot do that. It will tear your shirt and boy, where will you go and change now?

Slowly, very slowly, you move the shirt, hoping somehow, it would get freed from the wire.

Okay, so maybe a little this side–a little on the other–no, wait this is not–

“Are you leaving or are you arriving?”

A voice speaks, startling you to your very core. You look up and feel extremely relieved upon realising that this man happens to be someone who’s completely unknown to you.

“Well as of now, I’m stuck,” you trail off, hoping that the guy would catch the hint and help you.

Thankfully, he does.

He gathers a couple bricks that were laying around and tip toes on them for his hands to reach the wired fence. Despite not being able to see how the wire has gotten stuck in your shirt, his hand somehow still manages to do the job smoothly.

Once you’re free, you’re quick to get down. Dusting off your clothes, you pick your bags up. “Thank you, for helping me.”

“Considering that you got down on this side of the wall, I’m going to assume that you’re leaving.” He observes.

You look at him for a moment and then nod. “Yes, I am.”

“Do you need help with the bags?”

A smile appears on your lips at his words, as you think this guy is a little too nice for his own good. “Sure, that’d actually be helpful!”

Nodding he bends down to pick up the bags. He’s surprised when he realises how heavy your luggage actually is. “Damn, these are heavy.”

“I know,” you glance at your watch. “Let’s get going.”

It takes him a split second to process as you start walking immediately after the words are out of your mouth, without so much of a second glance at him. Your quick movements make him trail behind you, as you make your way through the playground which connects to the main road.

Having given up on catching up with you, he looks around and sees a bunch of kids playing football on one side of the ground. While the other side remains occupied with kids playing cricket. The scoreboard catches his attention as it reads “6 required from 3 balls”. That’s intense, he thinks.

His eyes remain fixed on the match as his feet continue to move. The bowler bowls and he watches with excitement as the batsman flicks it for a single. As the strike rotates, the scoreboard now changes to “5 required from 2 balls”.

The second last delivery of the match and much to his surprise, it’s a full toss. The ball connects right to the centre of the bat and goes straight in the air. His eyes follow the ball and he watches with a bated breath as he waits for it to be either a six or a four.

His jaw drops open, when the ball is caught–by you. You aim the ball straight at the stumps and before the runner can reach the crease, the ball hits the wickets, dismissing the bails.

“OUT!”

A unanimous shout breaks out, celebrating the wicket. The tension breaks as the match is now in favour of the defending side.

Suddenly, the bags aren’t as heavy as they were moments ago and he rushes to catch up with you. “That was such a cool throw.”

“Thanks,” you shoot him a smile.

“Do you play cricket?” He queries, his eyes shining bright with excitement.

“I once used to. Nowadays, I don’t really get the time to play.” You shrug. “I love watching cricket though.”

“Did you watch yesterday’s match?” His excitement heightens.

“No I didn’t, but I did watch the highlights.”

“You missed one of the greatest matches of all times,” he shakes his head, emphasising his point with a dreamy smile on his face.

“I just don’t like watching ODIs,” you comment. “I think cricket matches should be of twenty overs. Four hours and the match is done.”

“I mean sure, T20Is are good, they are explosive in nature,” he agrees. “But nothing beats the longer formats of cricket.”

“Well, i am yet to get the hang of them,” you muse. “Maybe someday, I will get the hang of ODIs.”

“Maybe a India VS Australia match would do it for you.”

“Oh! I live for the sledging in India-Australia matches.”

“But then, the real spirit of cricket is in test matches! Five long days for one match and yet the match might be a tie. It really does test a man’s patience,” he speaks, his hands moving animatedly with each word. “Maybe that’s why they are called test matches, you know?”

“Kudos to the players playing these matches, because I do not have the patience to watch a test match. Can’t imagine playing it.”

“You should try watching a good bilateral series sometime, I bet you’ll like it.”

“Oh, I have definitely tried watching test matches before and I remember in half an hour, the scoreboard changed from 243 to 245. That was pretty much it for me.”

Your words cause him to cackle. “Maybe someday, you’ll realise the beauty of test matches, who knows?”

“Maybe. Someday.”

A brief moment of silence falls between the both of you.

“Who’s your favourite player, right now?”

“Has to be Steve Smith!” You claim proudly, without a second thought.

“Dude has got a bright future in cricket, that’s for sure.”

“I love how smoothly he hits those shots. It’s a treat watching him,” you add, your admiration for the young player visible in your eyes.

He hums and lets the conversation die as you both approach the main road, which is from where he assumes you’re about to take some vehicle to continue the rest of your journey. His assumption is proved right when you start waving at a taxi approaching towards the both of you.

“Airport?” You ask and upon receiving a nod from the driver, you start loading your luggage in the car. Once everything is settled, you get in as well. Locking in the door, you wave at him and ask the driver to get going.

He watches as the taxi sets to motion with a small lingering smile on his face. He is about to turn around and leave when the car stops and you poke your head out of the window.

“You want to tag along?” You ask loudly to be heard through the newly made distance between the both of you.

He is bewildered on hearing your words. “But the wedding---,” he points in the direction where the wedding ceremony is being performed, instead of completing his sentence.

“Are you the one who's getting married?” You answer with another question.

“No,” he shakes his head, eyes wide with confusion. How on earth are you saying this so casually?

“Then come along.”

He cannot see the whole of your body as only a portion of it remains poking out of the window and he has only known you for a very brief moment, but for some unknown reason he feels so sure that you must have shrugged as you said those words. And for some odd reason, with how casually you’re treating the situation, he feels the oddness of the situation fade.

“I cannot just leave the wedding like that,” he replies.

“Okay, then. Have fun.”

You do not sound disappointed at all. You sound just as casual, he thinks.

“Have a safe journey,” he yells, as you retreat back inside the car.

A faint, i will, thank you, greet his ears and he shakes his head to himself. You are something, he thinks with that same smile as he heads back to the wedding.

“Dude, I met a 8.5 outside!” He tells his friend the moment he’s within earshot.

His friend doesn’t look at him as his gaze remains fixed somewhere else. “Forget about an 8.5. Look there, there’s a literal 10 right in front of your eyes.”

He follows his friend’s gaze and it leads him to one of the prettiest girls he has ever seen, in his entire life. A ten indeed.

“Wow.” The breathless one word sentence escapes his lips without his permission.

His friend smirks at the reaction. “She’s the bride’s sister. She’s a model but is soon going to feature in some short films.”

The words barely register in his head as the girl locks eyes with him. Maybe he wasn’t discreet with his gawking, after all. What absolutely leaves him speechless, however, is when the girl gives him a shy smile.

The interaction isn’t missed by his friend as he whistles slowly, before murmuring, “Here’s to hoping you’re smart enough to understand what that smile means.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #Jungkook fluff #Jungkook smut #Jungkook au #Jungkook ff #Jungkook scenarios #Jungkook series #jungkook fanfic #bts angst #jungkook bts #Angst #Fluff #Smut #Fic: hey

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just-a-fluffy-knight · 1 month

Text

Little Sass Factory

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: canon typical language, Logan being ruthless and Wade being a teasy asshole

A/N: LETS GOOO DEADPOOL AND WOLVIE FIC‼️‼️ I’ve been wanting to write for these guys ever since I saw the movie y’all have no idea I am so obsessed with them right now 😞 AND A PLUS BEING THIS DOESNT NECESSARILY SPOIL THE MOVIE SOOOO YALL CAN READ IT 🙌🏻🙌🏻

I really hope y’all like this bc I cannot stop thinking about them and yapping about them to my buddies 😭🙏🏻 Like as much as I’d love to wreck these two, I cannot stop thinking about them as a ler duo so have this :]

OKAY HAVE FUN READING YALL 🫂❤️

Tag List: @prairleedog (THANKS FOR THE TITLE INSPO POOKALOOKS 🙏🏻❤️) @kittenwhiskers @cherry-bomb-blush

“Y’know what? I’m actually real excited for this! Moony has been wanting to write a thing with us for a while now! Good on her for pushing through the writers block, that shit sucks ass.”

“…What the hell are you talking about?! We’re looking for the kid, remember!?”

And that they were. They’d been scouring the apartment for like… six minutes now trying to find you. But somehow, you’d been able to consistently switch hiding spots without them noticing.

How? They had no clue. The pair wouldn’t have been surprised discovering you were also some kind of mutant but with advanced sneakiness, if that was even a thing.

Wade was actually having a bit of fun with this, whereas Logan… he was getting pretty pissed. More so than usual.

“Kid, I swear to god, if you don’t show yourself in ten goddamn seconds, I WILL start tearing this fucking place down!”

Logan crouched, his claws instantly coming out, making Wade panic.

“Woaaah, woah, woah, woah! Easy, Peanut, we’re trying to find ‘em! Not kill them, which may sound a little rich coming from me-“

“I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to be angry. The kid decided to pull that shit on us and then split. And now we can’t find ‘em.” The older man growled, his claws retracting back into his hands.

“And this is the moment we start working together!” Wade announced, an arm slung around Logan’s shoulder that most likely would’ve been sliced if he hadn’t allowed the latter to shrug it off in annoyance.

However, Logan swiftly turned at the sound of a noise nearby, his eyebrow raising as he went to check it out, leaving Wade to keep rambling about nonsense he didn’t understand.

“God, where’s Peter Parker when you need him?? Actually, I don’t think I’d mind a lil bit of Miguel O’hara…” Wade let out a long whistle.

“…Ah wait, he doesn’t have that Spidey-Tingle , fUCK-!”

The merc suddenly yelped as he was grabbed by his collar, being yanked towards where Logan was moving.

Meanwhile, you were curled up, both hands over your mouth as you tried to shut yourself up, anxious titters threatening to give yourself away.

You mentally berated that stupid floorboard that just had to creak at the slightest bit of goddamn pressure.

“Ohhh, Y/NNNNN! Come on out now, we’re not gonna hurt ya!”

The sound of the merc’s goofy teasing made you snicker even more, but when you heard how close Logan’s voice was to the closet, you froze.

“Why the hell do you have to talk like that?”

“Whaaat? It turns up the fun knob a little bit! And I know they can hear meeeee!” Wade crooned in that same sing-song tone, followed by an unamused huff from Logan.

“We’re gonna getcha, we’re gonna getchaaaa!”

God, could they just get out the room?? You had to throw them off again and fast. During your panicked inner monologue, you were soon met with… silence.

You relaxed, knowing you must’ve had an opportunity.

…At least you did until you realised something. When the hell is it ever quiet when those two are together?

Then, you heard a hushed voice coming from outside the closet door.

“Ladies and gents, this is the moment you’ve waited for…”

…Oh, fuck.

Without warning, the closet doors were swung open by Wade, and the merc jokingly vocalised (very off-key too) while throwing his arms up with a flourish.

“WOOOAAAAAH!”

As you yelped in fear and dashed out the closet, Wade laughed and made a glance towards… well, air.

“If ya know, ya know!”

You quickly slipped past Wade, also laughing as you ran out the door to the room you’d been hiding in.

“Yohou’ll never take me al- ACK-!”

You yelped again as two strong arms wrapped around your torso, hoisting you up and off the floor.

…Shit.

“And just where do you think you’re goin, bub?”

“Wait, wahahait! Logan, hohold on-“

“No no no no no, I’m not waiting for anything.” Logan interrupted, carrying you back into the bedroom. “Not after you pulled that shit.”

“Oh, whahat? A little bit of water?”

“I wouldn’t say the rubber band on the sink trick counts as a little bit of water, Y/N.” Wade snickered, crossing his arms and smiling proudly at the fact you’d been caught.

“Come ohon, it wasn’t that bahAD-!” You yelped again as you were tossed onto the bed, still giggling. “Whahat’s the matter? Couldn’t shake the water off, kitty cat?”

The older hero scowled threateningly at you, ignoring Wade who sniggered at the joking insult.

“What?”

“You heheard me!”

Just as Logan was about to full on lunge towards you, Wade grabbed him.

“Hey, hey! Easy now, boy.” The merc spoke like he was talking to a feral dog, making Logan glare at him and growl.

“God, what now?”

“We gotta approach slowly! It builds up anticipation…” As Wade spoke, he began slowly approaching, carefully clambering onto the bed. “And proves to this little prankster how royally fucked they are!”

And it was working. Your giggles soon turned nervous, and you curled up, attempting to shy away from Wade (but not actually putting a lot of effort into getting away, much to Logan’s surprise and Wade’s amusement).

“And theeeen I’m juuust gonnaaaaaa…”

Suddenly, the merc’s arms swiftly looped under your own, lifting and leaving your, well, everything pretty much exposed and unable to be protected.

“Go on, boy! Gettem! Gettem, boy!”

Logan’s fury was way too fuelled by Wade’s stupid comments to even allow you to get a word in edgeways, instantly lunging forwards before digging and vibrating his claw-shaped hands right into your ribs.

“OhoH SHIHIHIT-! L-Logan, gehet OHOHOFF-!” A squeal left your mouth as you burst into frantic giggles and tried to kick, only for the older man to firmly shove right back at your legs, rendering you unable to fight back.

“God, will you just- quit the kicking?” Logan growled, a surprising air of playfulness behind it as he shot his hands right down to your thighs, firmly kneading there.

Despite already squealing your ass off, you couldn’t help but make a quip.

“Mahahaking biscuits reheally isn’t gonna hehehelp you beat the kitty allegahations, buhud-!”

Another low grumble filled the room, before Logan turned his head to Wade.

“Shut the kid up.”

“Roger that!”

Wade did a dumb salute before unhooking his arms from under yours to wiggle his fingers right into your armpits.

“Getchagetchagetcha!”

“AAAAHHHHHAHA DAMMIHIHIT-!” You practically shrieked, your giggles instantly shifting into full blown laughter as you pinned your elbows to your ribs, trying to squirm away but failing thanks to that iron grip Logan had on your legs.

“Ooh! I think I got a killer spot here, Logan!”

“Hmph, that’s nothin. Watch this.”

Logan earned another screech by mercilessly drilling his thumbs into your hips, making you buck instinctively and cackle uncontrollably.

“Nuh-uh! Armpits are the killer!” Wade protested, the merc speeding up his tickles on your underarms.

“Fat chance! They’re like a banshee when you get ‘em here!”

You wanted to protest, but all you could focus on were those hands attacking your weak spots.

Eventually, you felt them thankfully let up.

…For now, anyway.

“Now, Y/N. There is a way we can squash this beef, y’know.”

Logan sighed at Wade’s words, never understanding this ridiculous slang he dropped into conversation like it was nothing.

“Maybe a simple phrase such as… ‘I’m sorry?’”

“I can do one better.” Logan interrupted. “How about ‘I’m sorry I was a jabbering little sass factory who had the audacity to pull a dumb fuckin prank on people who didn’t do jack?’”

While catching your breath, you sealed what was basically your death wish.

“Oh, yeheah, Captain Caveman? Wheheres your helicopter cluhub, you gonna hit mehe with it?”

Logan fell silent again… while Wade couldn’t help but let out a wheeze at the quip.

“Ohoh, my god! Baby’s first character comparison joke, I’ve taught you so well..!” Wade sniffed dramatically, wiping a fake tear of proudness from the corner of his eye.

However, he froze once he heard you mutter something else.

“Thahat’s right, Mr Clehean-“

A strong gasp of offence left the merc as he placed a hand on his chest, while Logan gave him a smug look at not being the only one who was insulted.

“I beg your finest fucking pardon?! You think that’s any way to talk to Marvel Jesus and his very hairy disciple here!?”

Logan gave Wade another unamused glare.

“Y’know what?”

Wade then swiftly grabbed you again.

“Give ‘em the whiskers, Peanut!”

“They’re not whiskers, they’re muttonchops, you dumb fuck.”

“Same thing! Or shall I pull the move and do a much better job as always?”

The older man snarled, lowering his head down.

“I’ll show you who does it better, asshole…”

“Okay, wait, wahait-! W-What mohove is thiHIHIS-?!”

You cut yourself off with yet another shriek as Logan suddenly blew a giant raspberry right against your stomach, the added sensations that his facial hair provided making you near silent laughter.

It was clear that Logan was basically taking out all his pent up annoyance at Wade on you, and good god it tickled super bad.

And Wade? He was being no help either, as usual.

“Awww, wook at the giggwy wittle baby! Are the Badger Berries making their tummy all tickly? And are they having the time of their life? Yes, they are! Yes, they aaare!”

…Asshole. (Even if he was right.)

You did pride yourself on lasting about five raspberries (Wade could only ever really handle two), but you eventually had to tap your hand against one of Wade’s arms that were still hooked under yours.

“Okahay, Logan. Give em a rest.”

Despite his annoyed hesitance, Logan leant back up, allowing you to get your breath back in shaky pants.

“Geheez… you twoho are juhuhust..!”

“We’re waiting, kid.”

The older man interrupted, giving you a playful but threatening look.

“Fihine… I-I’m sohorry..!” You sighed, your face red as anything as you blinked away little tears that had pricked in the corners of your eyes.

“There we go! That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Wade teased, resting his chin on your shoulder, in which you just rolled your eyes.

“Anyway, we better get ready for round two, huh?”

…Uh oh.

“WHAT?! B-Buhut I apologised!”

Wade did a pretend ‘apologetic asshole’ wince.

“Yeah… but this attack was more only to get you to apologise. This one is to actually teach you a lesson!”

“But thahat’s bullshit-!”

“Well, it’s a good thing we don’t give a fuck.”

Logan shared a look of pure mischief with Wade.

“Let’s gettem.”

And just like that, you were screaming and laughing the apartment down once more, as Logan nuzzled his furry face right into your belly again, pretending to eat it and growling playfully while Wade wrapped his arms around you and blew a raspberry right into the crook of your neck.

Yeah… you were gonna be here for a while.

#deadpool and wolverine tickles #ler!deadpool #ler!wadewilson #ler!wolverine #ler!loganhowlett #lee!reader #sfw tickling community #my writing 🌙✍️#THRGEGAHAHA ENJOY YOU GUYS

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aether-bun · 8 months

Note

Dating headcanons for dead plate Vince and rody??? (Seperate)

DEAD PLATE BOYFRIENDS!!

Ok. Ok. The chokehold these two have me in is something that needs to be studied actually. Utterly thrilled that I get to write for them. Thank you so much Anon.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Talks of aggression, NSFW if you squint

Reader is gender neutral ♡

VINCENT is subtly affectionate being your boyfriend.

I think it's obvious that Vincent is very cold, inside and out, even if it isn't intentional

Little does the outside world know, however, he's very affectionate with you!

Behind closed doors, he finds small ways to be in contact with you

Knees touching, pinkies grazing, shoulders bumping, the works

It's not that he's afraid or repulsed by full on affection, it's just more comfortable for him to act the way he does. It means he can recharge without being away from you, but without overwhelming himself

I think he's a very big fan of chaste kisses, or at least giving them. Whenever he receives such rushed notes of affection, he refuses to admit it, but it leaves him with a sense of yearning :(

Adores hand kisses holy shit

I like to hc that he has a little lemon tree somewhere that he takes care of with such enthusiasm it's wild

The one thing you can't touch in his apartment is that tree. Hard boundary.

When he comes upstairs after work, he's usually very tired

This means that you both tend to just quietly enjoy each other's presence until he falls asleep in bed

Some days he's REALLY tired.

One of the chefs fucked up a batch so badly that it pushed service back by an additional 40 minutes while he had someone run supplies

It cost him a lot. That chef was brutally torn into and promptly told to never come back. Very unprofessional, but no one would say much about it.

Very exhausting lesson in hiring better employees in Vince's eyes.

That night he just laid down on your thighs and ranted. He doesn't tend to talk much for too long out of personal preference but that night he couldn't shut himself up.

You just gently combed through his hair and listened

The sensations soothed him and he got over the anger fairly well

(now he lays on your thighs some nights just to score some extra nice attention)

Dates are always very lavish, it's his personal favourite thing to spoil you. He always has a hand on you during outings of any kind.

Will pull you closer if anyone stares at you.

Gentle with you, in every possible situation, but firm

He really just doesn't want anyone to hurt you, but on top of that, he couldn't bear the ache he'd feel to see you look at someone else the way you look at him

Slut for calling you "Mine". End of discussion.

RODY is hellbent on giving you the whole world.

Loves loves LOVES cuddles

You cannot get this man off of you he is so clingy

He wants what's best for you and more this man will break limbs for you

I will say you were probably originally going to be a rebound relationship

After Manon, he found you, but it had barely been a month and he was clearly desperate for love

He was honest about Manon and the recent breakup, and in turn, you were honest about your returned feelings for him, but you very firmly said he'd have to move on first

It took a long time. You waited.

When he did get better, you two hit it off! He cared for you and you looked out for him

Your dates are walks through the park, café breakfasts and movie nights

Rody is a big fan of kisses

He kisses you and you can feel his love pouring through them, he deepens the kisses like he's starved, even though you're more than affectionate with each other all the time

Service top or complete bottom. Not because he's dainty bc he definitely isn't. He just loves you so much he wants you to have everything. He lives to serve you at this point let's be so real

Learned how to budget for you!!!! Whoa!!!!!!!!

I think Rody dances with you all the time

Rain or shine, dawn or dusk, happy or sad, he finds it nice to dance with you

It calms him

He gives the BEST MASSAGES IDC

Butterfly kisses and nose kisses are this man's kryptonite. He will cry. He has before.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hey!!!! Sorry for the random hiatus, life killed me a little, but I'm back and raring to go! Dragon Anon, if you're reading this, I am working on your req but I'm making sure I actually know the DLC this time so it's taking a while to get through the content. Bear with me!!!

Sorry if these were a little sloppy, getting back into writing is a lil difficult but I'm working as best I can. I hope you enjoyed, and remember to leave your requests in my inbox!

Ciao for now~

#x reader #dead plate rody #dead plate #vincent dead plate #rody x reader #vincent x reader #aether.writes #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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gothicknightz · 2 years

Text

for her | ethan landry

notes: ugh. for the LIFE of me i cannot get through a solid lengthy post, so a short couple of paragraphs should do. slightly sexy with a female reader.

“Mindy, you know I can handle myself. I'm a big girl now. No more horses and cowboys and conspiracy theories. We're both over Woodsboro.”

She leaned against the wall outside her roommate's brother's room, splitting a movie with her boyfriend.

“We've already learned from Sam that you can't trust the love interest. Horror rules 101.”

“Look, whatever you think is going on between me and Chad's roommate, it is definitely not a relationship.”

“But you two are fucking, yeah?”

“Mindy!”

“Hey, look, it still counts, okay! Besides, I've got x-rated dirt on you two from Chad.”

“Fuck you.”

“I think that's Ethan's job. Anyways, I have to pick Anika up from work, so I'll talk to you later.”

Rolling her eyes, she knocked on the door to her boyfriend's room, waiting for him to answer.

It had been a year since Woodsboro.

What could possibly go wrong?

As Ethan opened the door, he greeted her again with a smile, “Who called you this time?”

“Mindy.” She paused, his arm wrapping around her waist as they made it to Ethan's room. “She still doesn't trust you despite her hearing things from Chad. I'm sure the drama queen exaggerates our sex life.”

“Oh yeah?” Ethan asked, picking his girlfriend up bridal style as he sat down on his bed.

Laughing as he spun her around, she pressed a sweet kiss to his lips, “Yeah. Mindy says it's all x-rated.”

A small blush creeped onto Ethan's face as a small smile toyed at the end of his lips, “It's not that intense.”

“Its not?” She asked, moving a leg to the other side of his hips, with Ethan taking initiative and instinctively wrapping his arms around her waist.

Ethan softly shook his head 'no' as she was going in for the kiss, as the two earlier almost had a moment before getting interrupted by Mindy's call.

She pulled at Ethan's collar, desperate to pull him closer before grabbing a handful of his curls, which earned a sigh from him.

Despite his shy and nerdy exterior, Ethan was harder to break than a bag of cinder blocks once you got to him.

He grabbed onto her hip, his fingers curling inward as it lifted some of her shirt, the kissing rapidly getting more intense as the seconds ticked on.

At some point, Ethan fell backwards, which impaired their kissing temporarily, only to have his hands sliding up the back of her shirt as his hips bucked upwards.

“Aw,” She groaned, her grinding getting more needy as her hands were all over his body, “Somebody's getting needy.”

Ethan whined in agreement before muttering a soft ‘fuck’ as dramatic gagging noises were followed subsequently.

“Holy shit. I'm gonna get sick.”

“Fuck off, Chad!” She turned around and yelled at Ethan's roommate, who was standing at the doorframe.

“You two have got to see yourselves. You both were at it like animals.”

She threw a middle finger up at him, “Yeah, it ain't your first rodeo, princess. Now, out!”

Chad threw his hands up in surrender and defeat before chuckling, “Okay! I apologize giving you both blue balls. Besides, Tara and Sam need us. It's important.”

Chad closed the door before she threatened another insult at him, Ethan's arms slowly reaching out to her, his face flushed.

“Jesus, I hate your roommate.” She grumbled, still feeling the flush of heat between them.

“I know,” He replied, kissing her head, “But we can't possibly go there like this.” Gesturing to himself, Ethan's lips hung open a bit, his pupils blown.

She turned around and faced him, “I agree. Fuck what Mindy and Chad say.” Quickly pulling her shirt off, her hands found their way to her boyfriend's blue jeans.

“You think you can keep it quiet?”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #jack champion #scream #scream 6 #scream vi #chad meeks martin #mason gooding #mindy meeks martin #jasmin savoy brown #anika kayoko #devyn nekoda #tara carpenter #sam carpenter #ghostface imagines #ghostface smut

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avatarrecom · 7 months

Text

What they give you for Valentine's day

Pairing: Poly!recoms x Recom!reader

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: Omg I completely forgot to post this! Thank you all for the happy birthday wishes! Ignore my rambling through the headcanons lol.

Any thoughts?

🌍 Recom Miles Quaritch

He knows that it’s valentine's day, but it never occurred to him to get you a gift. Not until Walker and Z-dog give him an earful telling him to get you a gift asap. So Miles ditches his duties and frantically searches the entire base for a gift (because 1: Walker and Z-dog are hella protective of you and want their baby to be happy (and they're both scary as fuck when they want to, not that he will ever admit that) and 2: he doesn’t know if you’re expecting something and he doesn’t want to disappoint you). Eventually all he can find is a box of chocolates. Walker and Z-dog make him swear to go all out for your birthday to make up for the ‘pathetic’ gift. Even though you absolutely love it, I mean, chocolate is everyone's guilty pleasure right? (I will (try and fail to) fight you if you say no)

😈 Recom Lyle Wainfleet

Himself. That’s it, that’s the gift. You walk into your room to find him blue butt naked on your bed. Maybe the others have managed to convince him that just glorious nakedness isn’t enough, so maybe, he’ll tie a pretty bow around his cock, maybe not. I mean it’s Lyle, who knows what’s going through that bald head of his (probably not much but who am I to judge).

🍬 Recom Z-dog & 🥽 Recom Walker

THEY GO ALL OUT!!!! Like h-o-l-y shit. They force Miles to give the three of you the day off from work and you have a girls day (they may be though marines, but they still love them some self care). This girls day may or may not include certain spicy gifts and many, many, like I cannot empathize enough that there were many orgasms.

😎 Recom Mansk My boy may not be overly present, but he is there, he is always watching, always listening. He is always waiting… waiting for the perfect moment to… give you everything you could ever want. If you mentioned wanting to read a specific book, he’s buying it the second he can. He buys literally everything you ever mentioned you wanted. He’s the type of guy to do that thing (I saw it on tiktok) where he goes to your amazon account (or whatever webshop you use) and buys everything you have in your cart and/or wishing list. There are four moments in a year when he goes all out spoiling you. The first is your birthday (obviously), second is your anniversary, third is Christmas and last is Valentine’s day.

(My grandpa used to do this for everyone in the family to the point it became annoying. There was this movie (or series? Idk)(in the Netherlands) about a knight named Floris and I remember watching it when I was with my grandparents and that at some point there were these people with plague masks and I was completely and utterly terrified. I literally couldn’t sleep that night and in the morning (I slept at their place) my grandpa gave me a copy of the movie and when I was packing my stuff I accidentally, on purpose ‘forgot’ it. I had nightmares for weeks lol. I never had the heart to tell him, and he never brought it up, bless his soul.)

🧯 Recom Prager I see him as the type to give you one of those jars with hundreds of sweet messages. He probably goes all out and gives you multiple jars with notes depending on how you feel. Do you feel sad? Just take a note out of the sad jar and it says how much he loves and appreciates you. Do you feel insecure? There are a hundred notes telling you how beautiful you are. And the way he describes it?! Like omg, he’ll write a note (because yes, of course they’re all hand written) that says “You are beautiful like the morning dew in the fields” or “You are the most beautiful star in the entire galaxy”.

(Omg I need a Prager to write me sweet notes 😩. I mean I’m extremely lonely. It’s a recent development by the way, my bf broke up with me through text (on my birthday, I swear, it is the most interesting birthday gift I've ever gotten, and also the only one I've gotten on my b-day👍🏻) and then I found out through a mutual friend that he’s been cheating on me with my bff for 6 months… Who wants help to egg his house? So my self esteem is extremely low right now. Not that it’s normally particularly high, matter of fact, it's shit and has been shit since got bullied first year of high school, but anywayy)

⚕️ Recom Ja He gives you a promise ring. I don’t think that the RDA would allow the Recoms to marry, especially within the squad, so a promise ring is the next best option. Getting the ring wasn’t much of an issue, but getting it in Recom size was. There were a lot of favors called in and when that didn’t work he resorted to threats or blackmail. If he wasn’t allowed to marry you, they could at least allow him this.

🧢 Recom Brown He gives you one of those cringy hoodies. Yours says “His Queen” and his says “Her King”. If he walks in the room and sees you wear your hoodie, he drops everything and changes into his own. The other Recoms make fun of you two for wearing them (mostly him, they would never make fun of you), but they’re secretly really jealous. Also, I’m like 99,99% sure that Z-dog, Walker and Prager had to persuade him to not give you something similar but with a sex joke on it.

📿 Recom Lopez You know that meme: A: “Love is a weakness and an evolutionary mistake.” B: “You are literally making a Valentine’s day card for them right now.” A: *pointing their hot glue gun threateningly* You’re on thin fucking ice.”

Lopez is person A. That’s it. (He’s definitely scrubbing glitter from his hair for days after, it’s definitely not because Lyle dumps Lopez’ entire glitter supply on his head, Lopez does the same to Lyle, but with obviously little effect)

⛓️ Recom Fike Baby boy’s love cannot be measured in gifts. He just showers you in hugs and kisses all day long. If people are giving him (and you) strange/disgusting looks, don’t worry, Brown is right behind Fike glaring at everyone who dares looking at you two. Fike ends up giving you something you’ve been wanting later on, cuz he’s unsure if you’re disappointed, you’re not and you end up making that very clear to him.

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silvermaplealder · 2 years

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I have a theory (head cannon?) that the only vampire that died in lost boys was Max and that the deaths we saw of the other vampires was a trick performed by David to protect his companions. I went perhaps a little too far in depth with this, but it has been bothering me for years that 4 very powerful vampires were killed within minutes of engaging with young teens. After reading the book, prequel script, and watching the movie too many times, I actually think David and his boys threw the fights to get out of the situation all together, and got the added benefit of Max being killed. Warning, spoilers from the book and prequel script because I'm considering both of them somewhat cannon:

To start, I have to bring up the fact that in the book, David's challenges against Michael to join the gang were considered harmless tricks. The stunts David pulls are things that he can get away with as a vampire that wouldn't actually kill them. Quote from the book: "This was another one of [David's] tricks... something that looked deadly but was nothing more than a simple stunt." David has full control over all the stunts and knows that no harm will come to any of them. Star also calls David a 'magician' with his tricks seeming to be real. And of course, as we saw in the movie David can alter the perception of what someone sees

With that in mind, we start with Marko's death. I don't even want to talk about how Edgar would have to be pretty freaking strong to shove a stake completely through the diaphragm of a humanoid being (including through the front and back layer of his jacket, spine, etc. but whatever). However, Marko's hands appear to be covering his heart. Edgar puts the stake under Marko's hands, below where his heart should be. (heart is marked with the x, yellow is where Edgar shoves the stake)

so while Marko certainly had a pretty bad day, with the lore mentioning it has to go through the heart, he should still be alive, albeit, in a lot of pain

It would be after the boys run from the cave that the vampires are obviously aware that hunters have found their nest. At this point, they would only have two choices: either try and kill the hunters, Michael, Sam, Star, and Laddie, whomst they have close affection with, OR they would have to fake their own deaths. Otherwise there's no way that they can continue living without the hunters and Emersens returning to kill them again.

David likes to plan shit

When they go to the Emersen house, they would have to leave Marko behind at the cave. Since everyone thinks he's dead, they wouldn't have to worry about him being hurt. Then the fights begin, and this is when it starts to get out of character. David is vibing up in the rafters, alone. Dwayne takes on Sam, alone. And Paul takes on the Frogs, alone. But in every other scene that they kill, they are always together. Their deaths are not simultaneous, meaning that they could have taken on everyone together.

Starting with Paul, I mean let's be real. He could have killed those two Frogs at any point in time when he was chasing them. He literally even shoves them. But the plan isn't to kill the Frogs, it's to fake his death. After getting splashed with the holy water, he has a solid few moments to actually do something. And instead, he stands and waits for the dog to tackle him. Seeing that these vampires can literally fly/float there is no reason for him to actually fall into the bathtub. David is still vibing in the rafters and did nothing to stop the dog or to rescue Paul meaning that this was a part of the plan. He would use his ability to create illusions to convince the Frogs Paul fell into the tub and burned alive. It would also be a perfect way to make his body 'disappear'. The explosion of the septic system is extremely unrealistic, and literally I cannot begin to explain how the heck that would work besides someone manually doing it behind the scenes...

Then to Dwayne. Dwayne literally could have easily killed Sam twenty times over. But again, if killing was the plan, it would have been done in seconds. We saw how violent these boys are with their victims. And speaking of Sam, how about that bow, eh? The force behind the bow to literally yeet Dwayne backwards would not have been something Sam could do. It would take a lot of poundage(45ibs I've been told at the bare minimum to kill a deer with a bow at 25 yards, but should really be 60ibs) to physically drive the arrow clear through his body and throw him back into the stereo. And remember, David is in the rafters watching. He's not jumping in to kill Sam. He didn't try and grab Dwayne out of the air. And yet, when on the boardwalk if someone trips his boys on a carousel David loses his mind. Another explosive death, leaving little to no body for clean up...

And then there's David. Now for David, he'd have to take one for the team. And as we learned in the prequel, it has to be wood to kill a vampire through the heart. David tried to kill Vlad with a metal pipe and Vlad literally just pulled himself off it. Spoiler alert, antlers are not made of wood. So Paul and Dwayne are 'dead' and can leave the scene. That means that David needs to finish up. He fights with Michael, Michael clearly being a baby vampire and David having so many years under his belt. But the plan must go on. David sees Michael's plan is to impale him on antlers, and he makes it happen. David plays dead meaning that the three of his companions are safe and he just needs to finish the part before he can return to them.

As a bonus, Max comes by. The man walks straight up to his 'son' (whether he regards David with parental love or as just a lackey is up to you, but regardless he doesn't seem phased at David being dead) and is like oh damn not my boys being stupid again. Max doesn't look sad or anything when he finds David playing dead.

Max being impaled on the fence post would have been his own fault and David wouldn't have been a part of it. And Max would have to die to release the half vampires from their vampirism meaning that he really did explode.

What happens after that is up to you to decide. Besides David appearing in the comics (which if I recall correctly Edgar says that half the stuff in the comics was fake anyway? My copies are in storage so I cannot cross reference that), the boys disappear and no longer have to deal with Max.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

#lost boys #the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #vampires #dwayne tlb #marko tlb #tlb david #tlb paul #tlb

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pezberrywhoreee · 9 months

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cruella x (fem) reader smut drabble!! 'the inspection'

Pairing: dom!cruella de vil (Cruella 2021) x subfem!reader

Words: 1,111

content warning: D/S relationship (heavy), degradation, mocking, cunt inspection, light mommy kink, mentions of torture

Summary: Cruella gives you some well earned attention...though not nicely or selflessly.

Note: Nobody on this planet is producing queer Cruella fanfiction and it's starting to eat away at my soul. I'll do it, bitches. I'm so disgustingly obsessed with this movie and this woman btw...i should be institutionalised. I'll try to hold back but I cannot promise anything :D. (if y'all like this, i may continue this, post it on ao3 (@faberryslut09). i just needed some to write something before i exploded from horny :))

You could already feel yourself practically leaking onto the hardwood floor of the kitchen.

Cruella hadn't explicitly ordered you to be kneeling for her by the time she arrived from a long day of hunting for the right pieces for the next collection, but you thought that it would be a sweet surprise. Plus, it was going to eventually happen that night so why not start the fun earlier?

Your head dropped and your hands clasped behind you back as the sound of the lift resounded throughout the warehouse.

The much present desperation invited a soft shake within your bare body, shivering in anticipation.

This was made more intense at the clank of the lift door opening followed by the rhythmic tapping of a cane and boots against the wood. Your breathing stopped momentarily out of fear when the sound came slower, almost feeling the need to look up but you could feel her gaze burning into your body.

The woman's evil cackle erupted in the quiet space, adding to the tension filled room. There was a hint of mischief to the laughter that sent a wave of arousal straight to your core. You tried to quiet the involuntary mewling noises rising in your throat.

"Oh darling~ how depraved". She chuckled, looking down on you, literally and figuratively.

Cruella's low, sophisticated voice never failed to bring you certain feelings of arousal and compliance. As soon as you heard that tone it was like clockwork of how instantly you were by her feet.

Your eyes fluttered shut at her mocking tone which was accompanied by her free hand in your hair, gently petting and playing for now. The trembling of your body threatened to intensify but you tried to compose it as best as you could. Much to the woman's amusement, you were still steadily shaking from the intense arousal powering your being.

Cruella began to circle your kneeling body, her cane tapping along with her. "How long have you been waiting like this, pet?". She asked, seemingly unbothered.

You kept your head down as you answered her, a betraying whine in your voice. "About half an hour, ma'am".

A refined brow shot up in response as well as a smirk tugging at her lips. "Well...consider me impressed, darling. Although you could do far better than that". She said as is if she wasn't convinced by her own praise followed by her usual condescending remarks. You felt yourself drip each time she spoke.

"On your back, I must inspect you". She commanded effortlessly. "You know how it is, pet", she whispered seductively.

Wordlessly, you placed you arms in front of you on the hardwood floor, lifting your weight to stretch you legs out and gently push yourself onto your back.

A sense of vulnerability washed over you at how she took in every inch of your body, the hunger in her eyes growing. That animalistic stare forever burned into your mind. You could feel her obsession just through her eyes.

A louder chuckle was heard from above as the light perfectly caught the small puddle that was underneath you. The woman placed her cane down and crouched down in front of you, eyeing the slick on the ground. The smirk on her face turned into a shit eating grin.

"Desperate, are we?" She mocked, her tone higher in feigned worry. A sigh left your lungs as you felt yourself clench at her tone.

You gasped as you felt the sting of her palm being brought down on your thigh. "Yes, mommy". You answered in a whimper.

She hummed her approval before fully kneeling down in front of your spread legs and groping at your flesh mindlessly.

"Were you thinking about me? About what I would do to you?". Her tone drove you fucking crazy. The lowness was one thing but her seeming lack of care made you feel like she was the only thing that existed. She had barley touched you and you could feel yourself falling into subspace.

"Yes, ma'am", you responded simply, waiting for permission to say more.

"Anything in particular, darling?". The woman asked, her fingers tracing shapes over your skin.

"I— need to be controlled and told how to please you. I will do anything— anything to feel your touch. No one can make me feel like you can. I need someone—smarter to think for me". You recited, desperation embedded in your voice.

"Oh darling~ I am quite aware that you're nothing but a stupid pet who can't think for themselves. I mean...would a non corrupt person get this wet just by thinking? I don't think so". She purred in an icy tone, her hands slowly making contact with your leaking cunt.

You felt the heartbeat in your core quicken as her thumb played with your slit, collecting some slick and rubbing it into your swollen flesh.

A loud whine escaped you when you felt her fingers part your lips, her hot breath inches from your cunt. You instantly covered your eyes with your forearms at how intensely vulnerable it was to get inspected by such a powerful gaze.

You refrained from bucking your hips at the now constant surges of arousal that all landed in your core. Air trapped in your lungs as you felt her nails dig into you thighs, each ounce of pain that she inflicted drove you further into becoming a mess for her.

"I want you to see the effect that I have on you, darling. Isn't it just so consuming?", She asked rhetorically, her glare pointed up to your face. She hummed once more when you lifted you arms away and looked down at her, unable to quiet the moan ready to make itself known.

"I believe you're more than ready to take me...but I could make you wait longer, see how much desperation you're capable of". She threatened, easily slipping her middle and ring finger inside of you due to your heavily aroused state.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull at finally feeling her inside of you after waiting so patiently.

Cruella pulled out just as quickly. "There's a spot on the floor that needs some attention, darling". She purred, referring to the mess that you made.

You instantly knew what she wanted you to do so you got on your knees once more and lowered your face to the ground. As your tongue reached the ground, your eyes fell closed in a secure sense of submission. Groaning at the taste of yourself, you lapped up every drop until the hardwood was clean.

"Good pet. How about some prolonged torture as a reward?" The woman grinned nefariously.

#cruella de vil #cruella 2021 #cruella movie #cruella smut #cruella fanfic #cruella fanfiction #cruella wlw #cruella x reader #cruella x fem!reader #smut #pezberrywhoreee #pezberrywhoreee kink

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pastafossa · 2 years

Text

🎄The Biggest Tree In All The Kitchen 🎄 (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic)

Right so despite the craziness of the plagiarist and the BIGGEST BLIZZARD MY CITY HAS EVER SEEN IN ITS HISTORY, I managed to get this done! As promised, Matt and TRT’s Reader deserve a goddamn Christmas tree, and you all deserve some fluff after the rough few chapters we’ve just hit in TRT!

Rating: SFW, some language and slight innuendo and a few kisses, but other than that, just fluff and humor and Matt being absolutely determined to get you the biggest goddamn tree he can find and Foggy’s Christmas movie/ references. Wordcount: 5,855, you are going to get FED. Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader. Specifically TRT’s reader, but the fic isn’t required reading. Just know you haven’t had a Christmas in a very long time due to Enhanced Abilities reasons.

The second Matt heard your heart skip, he made his decision.

“What do you mean, ‘it’s not a big deal?!’” Foggy bellowed, throwing his hands up as you circled the pool table for your next shot. “It’s absolutely a big deal!”

“It’s just a tree, Foggy.” You wrinkled your nose while lining up your next shot. “Ciro’s daughter was allergic, so we had a fake one. After I left at eighteen, I never saw the point of getting one if there was no one but me around. It’s not like it bothers me.”

Lie.

Matt, waiting at the bar for all of your drinks, tipped his head as he listened. Slowly, a devious plan began to form in his mind.

“I’m with Foggy. I call bullshit,” Karen laughed, her shirt rustling as if she’d just crossed her arms. “We’ve all seen you stopping at windows that had Christmas trees.”

“You look like a puppy staring up at a cookie jar,” Foggy sighed. “Tell me you and Matt are getting a tree for your first real Christmas together. I’ve seen your ceilings. You could fit a giraffe in there.”

“Or a giraffe-sized tree,” Karen snickered.

You shrugged one shoulder, eyeballing your next shot. “I figured we’d get one of those little plastic ones and put our ornaments on it. I haven’t really thought about getting a big one.”

Lie.

“I swear to God,” Foggy said grimly, “if I walk in there and see some sad little Charlie Brown plastic tree, we cannot be friends. Just admit you want a big tree.”

You took your shot, your stick sliding smoothly forward. The crack of the cueball rang out a moment later. “I admit nothing outside a court of law.”

“Or inside the court, let’s be honest,” Karen said, biting her lip. That turned into another snicker when you rolled your eyes without actually denying it.

“Swear!” Foggy demanded, jabbing a finger towards the bar where Matt stood. Matt helpfully waved. “Swear on Matthew!”

You snorted. “Foggy, I do not—”

Lie.

“—want—”

Lie.

“—a big Christmas tree.”

Huge lie.

Matt frowned.

“Besides,” you said, moving to your next shot. “All I need for Christmas is Matt and you guys. That’s all I need to be happy.”

Truth.

His lips quirked up in a little smile.

Foggy sighed. “That was sappy, even for you. Get it? Sappy? It’s because you’ve got Christmas sap inside you, I just know it. You’re one step away from dancing yourself into a Christmas movie.”

“Hey, Joe,” Matt asked, tilting his head at one of the regulars at the bar. “Do you know if those guys with the Christmas trees have set up on 43rd yet?”

“Think so,” he grunted, reaching up to scratch at his beard. “Saw them hauling their shit by earlier. Got some big fuckers this year.”

Perfect.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he hummed as he crawled up over your blanket-covered form, dropping a fond kiss here and there to the blankets as if it were your skin.

You let out a muffled grunt but didn’t otherwise stir, buried somewhere beneath the mountain of blankets. Like this, to his senses, you were a sleepy lump, only vaguely shaped like yourself, and a lump that barely moved even when he straddled your waist. Or what he thought was your waist, anyway; it was a little hard to tell, even with his senses. He’d already tried and failed to lure you out with the scent of coffee, which meant it was time for a more serious attempt.

He leaned forward to nuzzle at what felt like your head, a sleepy growl buzzing beneath him. It took him a minute to get the angle just right as he hunted for where the heat from your breath had warmed the blankets, but eventually, he managed to orient on just how you were laying. Then he veered off to the side, aiming for what he hoped was your ear, and murmured, “I know you’re awake.”

“Birds are awake,” came the muffled, grumpy reply. “The love of my life is awake. I am not awake. ‘S eight. Come back at nine when I’m open.”

He snorted, rearing up and grabbing the blankets. Before he could so much as tug, you’d burrowed in deeper. From there it became a tug of war, as he yanked and you squirmed around beneath him, the motion oddly familiar.

“You… are you rotating—” he laughed in disbelief, and you were, growling and spinning, rolling over and over again like a rotisserie chicken, winding the blankets around yourself. A moment later he lost the blankets as the edge was yanked underneath you, every last blanket on the bed now wound around you.

“Checkmate,” you said, your smugness losing some of its impact now that you were shaped like a particularly large and beloved burrito.

He shifted around until he could pick up the massive, fuzzy cocoon you’d become. Your noise of protest was muffled, but he ignored you, settling himself back against the headboard with your blanket cocoon in his arms. But that was fine; he knew exactly how to lure you out.

“I suppose we could stay in today,” he said innocently. “I may have had something planned, but it’s not important.”

The you-shaped blanket cocoon vibrated, as if mildly curious. “…Planned?

There it was. You could never resist that tone.

“Mhm.” He sighed theatrically so that you could hear him. He had you on the line. Now he just had to reel it in, very slowly. He adjusted you until your blanket-covered legs lay over his, your body tipped sideways to lay against his chest. “I thought maybe we could go out and do a little shopping.”

You grumbled, settling in as if you were determined to fall asleep again. “‘S too early. Shops are closed.”

“Not this one.” He laid his head atop yours, and with your head still covered in blankets, there was no way for you to see his grin. Still, he kept his tone innocent as you squirmed around, getting comfortable. “Besides, Foggy told me all the good trees go early.”

The rustling went still, and even beneath all the blankets, he heard your heart start to race.

“…Tree?” you said hopefully. And yet the barest edge of skepticism lingered beneath the word as if you couldn’t quite believe you’d heard him right. “Like… a real tree?”

“Real as I can find. They open at nine.” He rolled one shoulder, his smile softening. He wound his arms around you a little tighter. “I thought we could… go look for one.”

There was a long pause, and he rubbed his hand up and down the blankets over your back. He knew this was something of a sensitive topic for you—allowing yourself to do what you wanted after having been in hiding for so long, after being alone for years. But if this was something you wanted, he’d find a way to make it happen. You deserved this, after all the things you’d missed out on in your life. It wouldn’t make up for all of it, not even close, but it was a start.

And maybe… maybe it was for him, too. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a tree. Even as a kid, it was a rare thing to have enough money laying around for one. Him and his dad made do where they could, and every now and then managed to snatch up a small tree for cheap. God, those Christmases had seemed so magical, no matter how many needles fell off the patchy branches strung with paper ornaments and glittering tinsel. Funny how all that magic could drain away so quickly in a darkened alley, drain away like drying blood over cracked asphalt.

He’d lost interest in Christmas for a while, after that.

Foggy’s insistence on a dorm tree had been the first time in years he’d had one, and after that, the Nelson and Murdock office tree had been enough for him. There’d been no reason to put one up in his apartment. It wasn’t like he could see it, and he hadn’t… had anyone else who might want one. The few ornaments he’d managed to save from before his dad died hadn’t been enough of a reason to get a tree, not when it would feel… feel so empty, and remind him of just how alone he was in the world.

But now…

What would it be like to have a real Christmas, one with someone he loved, in the home that you and he had both created?

God, he wanted that with you.

“Wouldn’t the smell bother you?” you asked hesitantly, your face still hidden. The blankets, if he had to guess, had now become less of a tactic to retain warmth and more of a defense mechanism as you hunted for the catch. “Some smell really strong. Or so I heard, I haven’t, uh, really looked.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he purred, “you’ll need more blankets if you want to hide a lie that big.”

You snorted, the blankets shaking as if you’d sneezed. The mountain of fabric began to shift as you squirmed around inside, and eventually, your head popped free, a ball of warmth and scent and stirred air currents. You rocked yourself around a little until you could get one arm free, too, and then you lifted your hand to cup his face. You considered him for a moment, as he leaned into your hand, pursing his lips to kiss your thumb fondly when it swept over his mouth. The taste and scent of your skin made him sigh, his eyes fluttering closed. And when you spoke, your heart beat truthful and steady. “I don’t want one if it’ll bother your senses. The tree’s not worth it if you’re miserable.”

Something in him softened at that, and he leaned in, dragging his nose against yours just for the way it made you smile before he tipped his head and pressed his lips to yours. He stayed there for a time, sighing with you as he pulled you in, his mouth working gently against yours. You stroked your thumb against his cheek, stubble rasping under your touch, tingling ripples of pleasure when you curved your fingers to gift him a little scratch with your nails. He let out the softest little moan, content as he’d ever been, warm and happy and loved here with you. “I love you, and thank you, my little burrito alleycat.”

“A burrito alleycat that loves you, too, Devil-man.” You kissed him again, short, fond kisses that made him feel slack and lazy, the usual aches and pains in his body fading beneath the warmth of your touch. You lifted your hand to scratch lightly through his hair, making him purr into your mouth. “Tree. Bothers those senses or no?”

He tilted his head to lazily kiss your wrist, before he groaned and lolled his head back into your hand when you hit a sore spot, his voice growing thick and glutted beneath your affection. “I, mm, may have called ahead and asked about some trees with gentler scents. They’ve got some that should work. Big ones, too.”

And oh, the way you drew in a slow breath, your fingers pausing in his hair. He knew, then, that even if there hadn’t been a mildly-scented tree for miles, it would have been worth it to travel farther still.

“A big tree?” you whispered, something like awe in your voice. “How big?”

“How big do you want?”

“I measured the apartment, we can fit an eighteen-foot tree in here right by the stairs, it’d have room to go up and spread out and there’d still be room for you to get your suit and also I found bulk ornaments for sale that we could use to fill it out until we have enough special ones of our own—”

“You… you measured—”

“I drew a diagram, do you want to feel it?” You lurched away from him and before he could catch you, you’d rolled yourself out of bed with a thunk and a low grunt, the blankets padding your fall. He listened in disbelief as you rolled along on your side, the blankets unwinding until at last, you were free.

Abruptly a laugh burst out of him as you scrambled up, darting out the bedroom door.

“Matt, put a shirt on!” you shouted, practically bouncing as you tore around the kitchen. “They open at nine, there might be a line!”

“I’m going to point out that you’re also still in your pajamas, sweetheart.”

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthump—

You raced back into the bedroom like a tree-obsessed gazelle, and he caught you with a grin as you leapt back onto the bed with him. That grin only got wider as you kissed him, kissed his cheeks and his forehead and then his smiling mouth, your hands in his hair, affection he soaked in with a quiet sigh as you whispered, “Thank you, thank you, thank you—”

“Don’t thank me just yet,” he huffed in amusement. That huff turned into a groan when you dipped to kiss along his throat, too, blatant affection along vulnerabilities that he bared only for you. He melted beneath the touch, his eyes fluttering shut, head rolling back in invitation when your warm lips passed over his pulse. “Mm, we still haven’t figured out how we’re going to get it into the apartment.”

“Trust me. I have ideas.”

“Not this one,” he said with a hum. “Smells too dry.”

“Not this one either.” You stepped back to narrow your eyes in thought. “Trunk is crooked.”

The worker had long since left you both alone to browse the tree lot. Even though you both had a short list of preferred trees, it had seemed wise to work your way from the front to the back and inspect every tree currently available, just in case there was a surprise hiding somewhere. One by one, the two of you had gone through a rigorous, solemn inspection with all the gravity given to one of Matt’s legal cases.

Too small.

Too many open spaces between the branches.

Needles smell like cat pee inside.

You hadn’t known that was something to worry about, but you trusted Matt’s judgement, just like you trusted the stinky cat face he made upon circling that tree in particular.

Neither of you were looking for perfect. Perfect didn’t exist, you knew. All you wanted was good: a large-ish, relatively-healthy tree, and one that wouldn’t make Matt’s nose itch or fill the entire apartment with prickly needles. You’d made note of a few potential trees, keeping them in mind as you approached the back of the lot. You’d seen a noble fir halfway down that had looked promising—it wasn’t all that tall at eight feet but it would still look good by the stairs. You were halfway into a turn, intending to track the tree down again when you saw it.

The one.

“Oh,” you breathed, your head tilting as you stared up.

And up.

Matt taped his cane as he stepped up beside you, his head tipped as he considered the tree with you, his brow furrowed.

“Scent level?” you asked him softly.

He twitched his nose, the tip of it red from the cold. “Not bad. It’s a white fir, I think. I can definitely smell it, but it’s not unpleasant. The scent’s a little like citrus, actually. Density? Shape?”

“I can’t see the trunk at all. Room for ornaments. Perfect triangle shape. Rot? Damage inside?”

He started a slow circle around the tree, his lips parted minutely as he tasted the air. With each step he tapped his cane a few times, his head tipped towards the tree as he listened to the way it resonated. You watched nervously, biting your lip as you waited. There had to be a problem with it, there had to be. No tree was perfect, especially not your first real tree.

Matt came back around the tree, humming as he returned to your side. “It’s fresh. One of the freshest here, I think, or it sounds like it. And it smells clean. No rot.”

You reached out to take a branch gently in your hand, and when you pulled your gloved fingers down the line of it, your hand came away clean and free of needles. Another test passed as you sighed longingly. “Oh, Matt, it’s perfect.”

You both stepped back, staring up. Or, well, you did. Matt stared in spirit, if not in body.

It was perfect.

It was also… absolutely huge.

If it wasn’t eighteen feet, it was damned close, easily one of the tallest trees in the lot. The tree easily towered over you both, thick branches reaching up towards the heavens as if it longed to achieve the same height as the trees of the steel-and-concrete forest around it. That presence was undeniable, and even bound as it was, it was wide: broad and thick, its branches as big around as your wrist, each needle a vibrant blue-green touched with silver. It was the type of tree you’d only ever seen in movies, likely meant for building lobbies.

Or…

…for a couple with really, really high ceilings thanks to roof access.

“We could fit so many ornaments on it,” you breathed.

“How big did you say the ceilings were?” Matt asked, the cock of his head making you think he was running the numbers himself.

“Technically twenty. I left two feet for space at the top,” you said absently, already envisioning just how you might decorate this tree. Which was ridiculous.

It wasn’t even your tree yet, the common sense voice in your mind said. Besides, there were smaller, more suitable trees back up the lot.

It would cost too much, the sensible part of you said, even though you’d… maybe sorta been setting aside money for a tree this size for months now.

It was too large to be practical, the logical section of your brain howled. It would be a nightmare to get inside. An absolute, full-fledged, Christmas nightmare.

But it could fit.

You could make it fit.

You would make it fit.

“I can hear your pupils dilating,” Matt chuckled, the corner of his mouth tilted up into a small smirk. That smirk grew into a full-blown grin when you poked him, and he leaned over to press his mouth to your ear, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Is this our tree? I know you’ve been setting money aside just in case.”

You reached out longingly to pet the branches, soft needles kissing at your gloved fingertips as if to return your affection. God, even the needles were perfect, far less prickly than some of the other trees. It would make it easier for Matt to help you decorate. This tree… it was like it was made for you and him: made for your home, for his senses, for your first real Christmas since fleeing Los Angeles years ago. It had everything you wanted. It was healthy, and ready for a mountain of ornaments and tinsel and as many strings of lights as you could get your hands on.

“Do you think we can?” You bit your lip again, daring to glance at him out of the corner of your eye. “I know it’s big, and it’ll be hell getting it inside. More practical to get a smaller tree.”

“When has practicality ever stopped me?” He tipped his head, kissing your temple as you laughed, letting him wind an arm around your waist. He tapped his cane again a few times, humming thoughtfully. “It doesn’t sound like it’ll fit through our front door, but the new rooftop door’s a bit wider. If we come through that one, I think we can get it inside. We can make this work.”

“Jesus,” you breathed, staring up as he set his chin atop your head. “We’re really gonna do it. We’re gonna drag an eighteen-footer into our apartment.”

“We are.” He let out a pleased noise when you sidled in, nudging at him until he wound both arms around your waist, draping himself contentedly against your back. “There is admittedly one thing I’m not sure about.”

“What, transport?”

Matt shook his head. “I had Foggy drive over. He’s borrowing one of his family’s delivery trucks. Him and Karen should be here in about ten minutes, and they’re very excited to see what we picked out. No, the real question is…”

Oh.

“How,” you said slowly, “the fuck are we going to get this onto the roof?”

“Pi-vooooooot!” Foggy howled from one flight up.

“I understood that reference, so ha, but also: which way do we pivot?!” you wheezed, shoving at the tree. “Matt, push.”

“I am pushing,” he groaned from down near the base, his teeth grit, feet wide.

“I’m sor—” you started.

“Don’t you finish that sentence,” Matt growled, ducking his shoulder and heaving. The tree shivered and moved a half-inch. “You-you wanted… a-a big tree for our first Christmas, and we’re getting one, so help me God.”

“And he’s Catholic so he means that literally,” Foggy puffed, yanking at the ropes. The tree sympathetically moved another inch, its needles shivering as if in apology over its own size. “And he’s—gah—right, cause this’ll take an act of God to-to get it inside. Ok, I don’t know what direction you’re pivoting, but it’s the wrong pivot. Pivot the other way. Pivot.”

“You guys are doing great,” Karen said innocently. Probably because there was only room for three of you on the stairwell and she’d drawn the good straw.

Matt groaned again. “There are three other directions we can pivot, Foggy.” And yet he tried, tendons straining in his neck, his jaw clenched as you and him tried to shift the tree in a new direction. He was, admittedly, taking the majority of the tree’s weight of the three of you since he was the strongest, but he was also the only one who’d rather let the tree crush him to death than admit he couldn’t simply levitate it up the stairs through masochism and sheer stubbornness, so you got your own shoulder farther under it, taking more weight while Foggy decided where to go.

“Uh, left pivot, left pivot.”

There was a crunch as the three of you hit the wall.

“I swear to Catholic Jesus, Foggy,” you announced grimly, “if you Friends-pivot our tree into breaking, I will come up this tree at you like a rabid squirrel.”

“Merry Christmas, shitter was full!” Foggy bellowed, yanking hard enough that the tree, surprisingly, moved another inch. “Karen, how we lookin?”

“I’m going to get so many views on this,” Karen snickered, her phone aimed upwards.

“Karen!” Foggy barked, and you squawked beneath the increased weight of the tree as Foggy let go with one hand to point back down the stairs. The motion almost took you out until Matt shoved a leg out, bracing when your feet started to slide back, his face covered in sweat, teeth bared as if he were fighting someone in an alley and not the laws of physics and the equally dangerous laws of girlfriends who wanted very large Christmas trees. “Don’t you—ok, actually, send me this video later. But mechanics first! Status?”

“Right, you guys are, uh…”

“Are we almost to the landing?” you wheezed hopefully, spitting out a pine needle that had, somehow, wound up in your mouth.

Unfortunately, Matt was below you.

“I love you, too,” Matt said tiredly, the wet pine needle now stuck in his hair.

“Sorry.”

Karen cleared her throat, and you leaned your head over the railing… to meet her eye where she stood, roughly two inches below you. She gave you a weak thumbs up.

Matt groaned, leaning forward to faceplant on one of the branches.

“Right,” you said. “I have… a different plan.”

“You stole this from While You Were Sleeping, didn’t you?” Foggy said, his voice crackling through your cell’s speakerphone where you’d set it on the rooftop’s A.C. unit.

“Admitting to nothing,” you wheezed. “Just-just keep an eye on the-the tree. Right, again!”

You, Karen, and Matt all yanked.

The ropes groaned once more, drawn up taut as the three of you attempted to pull up the massive tree over the side of the building. You’d been at this for ten minutes, and managed to make it to the second story, according to Foggy. But it had taken a lot out of the three of you, even Matt. He, of course, declared that he was fine, but you’d once heard him say the same thing about a bullet wound roughly three minutes before passing out, so you took that with a container’s-worth of salt grains.

Karen growled, digging her heels in as you all huffed and puffed, Christmas spirit driving you forward like the crack of a whip. “W-when did you—ugh—say your friend was… gonna get here?”

“Not quite a friend,” you grunted, leaning back so sharply you almost rammed into Matt behind you, who was making a strange wheezing sound as he no doubt attempted to pull the entire tree up by himself despite there being two additional people. “And she just kinda—ngh—shows up if she feels like it. Fifty-fifty chance. Matt, do not tear something.”

“Can meditate—”

“No!” you bellowed, gritting your teeth as you all yanked, the rope slowly coming with you. “N-no meditating! Need your-your back healthy for ornament hanging—”

“I knew you loved me for something,” he mumbled.

“—and tree-topping—”

“And the other kind of topping,” Karen said, somehow sly despite the fact that you were all soaked in sweat and wild-eyed, smelling like pine needles and rabid determination.

“Oh my God, Karen,” you wheezed, your feet skidding on the cement.

“What? It’s true.”

“It’s fine,” Matt grunted. “She can top if my back goes.”

“Are we talking about trees or…?”

The wind picked up.

Which wasn’t that unusual. But then again, you weren’t normally all hanging onto ropes tied to an eighteen-foot hanging embodiment of all your Christmas hopes and dreams.

Just like that, the rope snapped you all forward as if a giant had taken hold and yanked. Matt crashed into you, and together, your tangled bodies took out Karen at the knees. You all tumbled forward, the rope flying free.

Oh, no you don’t.

You did not go over a decade without a fucking Christmas tree just to lose your first eighteen-footer.

You were going to have a merry fucking Christmas if it killed you.

You leapt for the rope with a snarl, and Matt, predictably sensing that, for once, he was the one with an excess of self-preservation, darted after you. You only just managed to snag the rope, throwing yourself back, your feet shoved forward to brace yourself against the edge of the rooftop. Unfortunately, while you did a lot of walking and running, you didn’t quite have the muscle to hold it. Few did.

Matt caught you a moment later, bracketing your own legs with his, his arms around you until he could grab the rope, too. And, not for the first time, you found yourself grateful for all the muscle in those massive thighs of his when he shoved his feet up against the wall, locked up with a growl, and held.

The tree lurched to a stop.

"Fuck, I love your beefy thighs," you panted. "Remind me to show them appreciation later."

He groaned, trying to lean his body back farther. "Now's not the best time—nngh—to make me think about you and my thighs, sweetheart."

“Right,” Foggy’s voice crackled. “Unless that was intentional and you tried to throw your tree down like Hans Gruber off the Nakatomi Building, I’m glad to inform you that you stopped it six inches from the ground.”

“Matt—” you panted, shoved up against Matt's chest. Karen had already caught the slack behind you both, but there wasn’t enough leverage for you both to back away. If even one of you let go… “I don’t know if we can-can make it—”

“Don’t say that!” he hissed, muscles straining, his chest heaving at your back. “I-I can save it, we need the tree, so we can have Christmas like you wanted—”

“The only thing I need for Christmas is—nngh—you, Matt.”

“Should I be filming?” Karen panted. “This is-is touching, but—”

“Really?” Matt asked you quietly. “You’d be happy… even if we—”

“I’m always happy with you.” You leaned your sweat-soaked head back against him, twisting as best you could to kiss his chin. “Tree, or no tree.”

“Jesus Christ, that was disgusting. You owe me an extra bottle for this.”

The rope suddenly tore free from your hands—

—and snapped taut as someone lifted it up and began to pull.

And it went, with all the ease of a dog being tugged along on a Sunday stroll.

“Holy shit,” Karen whispered.

“Karen, Matt,” you puffed, waving back. “This is—”

“I’m not drunk enough for introductions so don’t bother,” Jessica grunted as she walked backwards, casually winding the rope around one hand as she considered the bottle in her other hand, one you’d left by the door as an offering in hopes that she might smell what amounted to paint thinner and show up like the world’s most foul-mouthed elf. “Not my usual shit, but it’ll do.”

“Second one will be delivered to your office as promised,” you panted, still leaning back against Matt.

“Now it’s three for having to listen to that sappy display. Now unless you want that tree to fuck you into the ground, I’d get the hell away from the edge before it comes up.”

You and Matt both scrambled out of the way as the first branches appeared over the edge, and even Karen took a few steps back.

“Right, I have no idea what’s happening,” Foggy’s voice crackled. “But holy shit, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.”

“Open this,” Jessica said, shoving the bottle into your hands as she walked back down the rope, hand over hand before she got to the edge. She shoved one hand over the edge, snorting once she got a good look at the tree. “Shit, you’re one of them, aren’t you? Christmas psychopath.”

You shrugged one shoulder, unscrewing the top of the bottle—God knew it wasn’t expensive enough to need a cork or have a bottle cap. “If I’m in, I’m in.”

“Go big or go home,” Matt said, his grin only barely hidden behind mock solemnity.

“Applies only to good fucks and bottles,” she snarked back, casually lifting the eighteen-foot tree in one somehow-disgusted hand, pulling it up and over the roof like one might pluck up a filthy, crusted spaghetti noodle from the floor.

Karen’s eyes were wide, and even Matt had tilted his head beside you. “Is she…?”

“She is,” Karen breathed. “Jesus. I guess that’s one way to get the tree up here.”

“Don’t count on this next year. And you owe me, even with the booze.” She grunted and tossed the massive tree down, dusting her hands off. The sap on her fingers made her scowl. “Why everyone’s obsessed with nature is beyond me.”

“Christmas nature,” you corrected. “At least it’s not the giant turtle guy. I heard he’s gone to you since I wouldn’t go down again.”

“Don’t remind me,” she muttered. “He’s been in my office three times in the past month ranting about them coming up out of the sewers.”

You handed her the bottle as she passed you by, throwing her a salute, as did Karen. “Thanks for the help.”

“Remember: two bottles, my office. Then we’re even.”

“It was nice to meet you,” Matt said, the corner of his mouth tilting up as if he already knew the response that was coming.

“Nicer to leave,” she said, waving one hand before disappearing down the stairs, leaving nothing but the tree and the scent of discount whiskey in her wake.

“She sounded lovely,” Foggy said. “And also hilarious. Can we invite her to the Nelson and Murdock Christmas party? Is the tree up there at least?”

You stared at the tree.

The tree now on the roof.

“Matt, I’d open your arms,” Karen said with a grin. “Incoming.”

Matt grinned and pivoted, throwing his arms open as you leapt up into them. He spun you both in a big circle, your laughter torn away by the wind, the first snowflakes of the day beginning to drift down. “Fuck, we did it, Matt! We got our Christmas tree!”

“If my girl wants a big tree, she gets a big tree,” he said, his grin softening to a smile when you buried your hands in his hair, dark strands dusted with white, and tipped his head up so you could kiss him warmly, safely held in his arms, and if your eyes were maybe a little wet, he wasn’t willing to say anything but, “Love you, sweetheart.”

There was a quiet click as Karen took a picture.

“Thank you,” you whispered, as his nose brushed against yours. “Thank you for giving me a real tree, Matt.”

It took time to get it inside, but once you managed, things came together perfectly. It was the perfect height, filling the open space with a mass of brilliant blue-green touched with silver, its branches stretched wide. It took you and Matt a good ten strands of lights to wrap the whole thing and at least five boxes of standard ornaments. Here and there, between them all, hung more personal touches:

Paper ornaments, carefully folded and cut by quiet memory alone.

A little penguin couple in Santa hats, flippers held tight above both script and braille that read, ‘Our First Christmas.’

And now…

“I like this one,” you murmured, hooking the final ornament onto the tree and standing back. Matt wound his arms around your waist, his head on your shoulder. “I’m glad Karen took that picture.”

“Do we look happy?” he asked you quietly. “Is it… does the tree look right?”

And you heard the unspoken:

Did I do this right?

You turned and let your gaze slide over his face. He looked… more content than he had in a long, long time. And yet there was a hint of vulnerability there, too, hidden beneath the softened glow of the Christmas lights, painted in shades of red and green and blue. You leaned in and pressed your lips to his cheek, and he turned, nuzzling in so he could kiss you back. “It’s the perfect tree,” you told him softly. “It’s bright and full of colors with all the lights and our ornaments. All our little ones look even more special. It looks like something out of a movie, or a Christmas card. It’s exactly what I wanted.”

He sighed, dropping his head to your shoulder and relaxing at last, as you lifted your hand to brush through his hair. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

“Merry Christmas, Matt. And here’s to many more, until we’re old and grey.”

387 notes · View notes

dreadsuitsamus · 1 year

Text

5 Times You Meet Kensei +1 Time He Gets Your Number | Kensei Muguruma x Reader |

author's note: this structure is horribly outdated but i give no fucks!! thank you to @yeowangies for the help and support on this!

pairing: kensei muguruma x fem!reader

warnings: buncha meet cutes, alcohol mentions, lotsa flustering kensei

Speed dating.

What in the fuck is he doing here.

Kensei pinches the bridge of his nose as he sits at a table, waiting for the event to start just so it can end that much sooner. Mashiro forced this damn thing on him, that little shit. She knows just how to annoy him and get her way: why does he keep her around??

"I guess this isn't really your thing, huh?"

Kensei's brown eyes flick up; dammit, he zoned out and made a fool of himself on the very first 'date'. His silver brow twitches involuntarily as he responds. "You got me."

Your laugh twinkles as you slide into the seat across from him, a fruity cocktail in hand. Kensei's struck immediately by your beauty, for sure, and he's suddenly feeling underdressed in his black Henley and jeans while he's up against your, emphasis on little, black dress and golden accessories. "I've done a few of these before; it's not really anybody's thing, honestly. You're not as out of place as you feel."

"Oh, yes the hell I am." An odd laugh accompanies his shaky assertion— and he hates that he's nervous!

"You should have a drink, calm your nerves a little." The black straw from your brightly colored drink settles in the center of your gorgeously painted lips, demonstrating how you can possibly bear such an event without so much as batting an eye while your gaze flicks to the name tag stuck onto his chest.

Kensei rubs the back of his neck, his muscles deliciously hugged by that too-small Henley. "Good idea. But I don't know if I should be taking advice from someone with more sugar than alcohol in her drink."

Your laugh does more to calm his nerves than a drink would, that's for sure.

You continue to chuckle to yourself as he goes to the bar, watching him order his scotch on the rocks from the rather busy bar. The red numbers tick down on the clock, and he's not likely to return before the time is up. It is speed dating after all. Fishing out a pen from your purse, you scribble a little note on the cocktail napkin before moving onto the next table.

Kensei is rather relieved when he returns to an empty table— but only briefly, since your seat is taken damn near immediately by a new stranger. He has a pull from the drink, smirking into the tumbler as he reads your note and tunes out the new 'date' introducing themselves.

Get it with a twist next time, you wimp!

"This shouldn't have been so controversial." Kensei's arms are crossed and the vein that's famously seen amongst his infuriating friend group is throbbing so hard that they may as well pay for an entire extra seat just for it.

Shinji and Hiyori, as per fucking usual, cannot decide what movie to watch. The group is split entirely, and it's up to his tie breaking vote to get the evening moving along. They're arguing harshly, the two factions, and he has not a care in the world to the actual film. He just wants his popcorn and peanut M&M's that'll cost him a solid thirty dollars and to take a nap.

"Shut up!" He stands tall, brown eyes furious and just a tad crazy as he fishes a coin from his pocket. "Heads or tails, you jackasses!"

He flips the coin easily, not even sure who called what side as he catches it and flips it into the back of his hand. "Tails. I'm getting a snack now."

Hiyori's taunting Shinji as they purchase the tickets, and Kensei tucks his box of candy into one of his pockets (he told Mashiro his cargo shorts are useful!!) so he can better hold his popcorn bucket out of Hiyori's reach as they stand in line to have their tickets scanned. "Hey, you little rat! Knock it off!"

The giggle behind him is familiar, and his eyes widen rather comically upon sight of you and what he presumes is your gaggle of friends. He never saw you again during that disaster of a night, and it was definitely for the best— he was hammered by the end of it and had to be, literally, picked up by Hachi just to make it home.

"Nice to see you again, Ken." You tease, laughing at Hiyori's ability to snatch a handful of his popcorn during his stunned daze.

"K-Ken?" He stumbles on the word— nobody has ever called him that.

"What movie are you seeing?" You breeze on by his confusion, though the gears in his head have come to a complete standstill. Listen closely enough and you'll hear the internet dial up tone.

"Ah…" He shows his ticket to you, ignoring the snickers of his friends behind him. He'll never live this down. Kensei, their resident, stone-faced asshole, is flustered??

"Oh, we saw that last weekend! Not a bad movie; I think you'll like it." You smile and the line moves up, Kensei's group getting their tickets scanned next.

"Not sure if I trust the opinion of someone who agrees with Hiyori's tastes." Kensei grumbles, worried that the heat on his cheeks is visible to you; or worse, his friends.

"Hey!" Hiyori kicks at Kensei's shin, though it hurts her far more than Kensei himself. You scan your ticket, the teen at the stand pointing your theater in the opposite direction of Kensei's movie.

"You'll trust me enough after you see it." You wink and start to head to your movie, glancing over your shoulder to smile at Kensei once more before disappearing into the theater. Ignoring the snickers of his friends, Kensei growls and heads into their own designated theater.

I should've fucking flipped heads.

The chill of the air is rather inconsequential to Kensei as he runs security at the door of the nightclub, his nice suit and gloves keeping him as warm as he is stylish. He's never been one to say no to extra cash, and though his days as a doorman are far behind him, he's still got it, evidently. He's stopped several fake IDs, weapons, drugs and more, all while making his much-higher hourly rate than he did back when this was his living.

Just after busting a teen with the worst fake ID he's ever seen, Kensei's line finally starts fizzling out. The club is booming, half of the city must be inside by this point, with the other half having been kicked swiftly to the curb. He checks the expensive watch on his wrist; just a few more hours and he's all done, his favor to the club owner fulfilled and his next monthly car note paid off. Huffing out a breath, the cold air lingers for a moment, and as it dissipates, he's met with his next crowd of people.

So much for a moment of peace.

The group is split between himself and the other doorman, and it's the routine pat downs and ID checks as usual. He's gotten through a third of the group before you're before him, smirking with twinkly eyes as you present your ID to him— it's only now that he actually gets your name.

"Funny how we keep meeting." You tease, tucking the ID card back into your wallet and stepping aside for his pat down, rather eager for those strong-looking hands to get a touch of you.

Kensei's brown eyes flick to meet your gaze, and his face warms just at the sight of you. You truly are a stunning woman. "Careful; I might just think you're stalking me."

"You think I like you that much, Ken? Interesting…" Your teeth graze your lower lip, just a little, as you spread your arms and legs.

"Don't call me Ken." He grumbles, appreciating the way your perfume masks the cigarettes those in line have been smoking all night.

"It's cute." You shrug and Kensei pats you down without another word, perking a pierced brow as he snags a small bottle of whiskey concealed in your waistband.

"I don't think you know what 'cute' is if you're talking about me in the same sentence. Better luck next time, princess."

"Guess you're good at your job, huh?" You murmur, gazing up and over your shoulder to better see his handsome face. He's got a pet name for you now, hm? Interesting.

"Shoulda got in the other guy's line." Kensei mutters, tossing and subsequently shattering the glass on the cold sidewalk.

"I like this line." Slowly, your fingertip drags along the length of his sharp jaw and it's then that Kensei's aware of his other hand still holding your hip— how in the hell do you have the ability to make him forget himself so easily? "But since you took my whiskey… Can I go inside now? I could use a drink."

The taller man's Adam's apple bobs and he releases you, practically pushing you into the doors of the booming club and the arms of your giggling friends. His face is pink, and at least he can try to pass it off on the cold temperatures if anyone asks.

He should've saved that damn whiskey for later.

Kensei's sweating like a whore in church as he finishes his workout, his body glistening with sweat as he pulls off his tank top for a taste of refreshing air. Cardio was a particular killer for him today, though it made the weight training a little bit easier too. He'd been slacking off for a few weeks, and the moment he had just a little difficulty yeeting Mashiro and Lisa (simultaneously, and while dealing with Hiyori doing her best to knock him over) into that pit of foam at the trampoline place was a reminder to get back to the gym.

He's more of a primadonna than he admits.

He takes a long pull from his water bottle, pouring the remainder over his heated face and shoulders and scans the room. It's habit to him, partially as a former special forces commander and also due to the number of times he's caught others incorrectly using equipment and aided them for better workouts. The gym is the only place he's remotely social in, oddly enough.

His brown eyes narrow at the sight of a woman (that can't be who he thinks it is) on a stair stepper. There's a man beside her, one that he noticed following her around before. They could be friends, though Kensei doubts it greatly as the loser continues to stand beside you, talking about gains while you remain the only one actually working out.

The guy's talking with his hands, and Kensei's witnessed this brand of harassment enough to tell where this is going. Wasting a breath no more, he's walking over with a meaner face than usual. It is you, and that makes him just a little more angry at this harassment than he'd normally be. You turn your head away from the man that's been annoying you, eyes lighting up at your savior. "Ken!"

Kensei places himself between you and the strange man, his impressive size and build enough to make the other guy nervous. "You like harassing women at the gym?" He crosses those deliciously thick arms, and you're frankly more concerned with viewing his toned back than dealing with the situation at hand.

"I told you I had a boyfriend." You tease, peeking over Kensei's shoulder at the now very intimidated mark.

Kensei frowns just a tad deeper after that— so many things are wrong with that statement. Namely, you thinking you had to have a boyfriend, real or not, for this guy to leave you alone. Unbeknownst to him, the back of his neck flushes a light, rosy color that makes you snicker.

"If I ever see you harassing a woman again, I'm gonna beat the shit out of you. Understood?"

Kensei doesn't waste time hearing any lame excuses or apologies before turning to face you, who smirks proudly in his wake. "I'm here most days a week around this time. If anyone bothers you again, just come find me and I'll take care of it. And don't call me Ken."

"You're more bothered by me calling you Ken than my boyfriend?" You raise a brow, an entertained smirk on your face.

"Like I'd date someone who wears a pink bodysuit to the gym." Kensei grumbles lamely, blushing from the tips of his ears to the center of his chest.

"That's a lot of talk coming from someone that's blushing pinker than a Barbie dream house." You laugh, poking one of his pectorals.

He's red now as he looks away from you, his jaw tight as you tease him. "Stop bothering me and finish your workout." He retreats before you can manage to get under his skin again, though his plan doesn't pan out like he hoped as your voice follows him.

"Nice tattoo, by the way!"

"Get your mind outta the gutter!" He hollers back, practically running to hide in the locker room, all while you grin and wonder if that was the hint of a Long Island accent slipping through.

"Come on, let's go!" Kensei claps his hands harshly, ushering his friends (and those they brought along that he merely tolerates) towards the stadium. The baseball game is due to start shortly and goddammit he's not gonna miss a thing because of these unorganized fucks. He's still got a hot dog to get!

"Relax, friend." Shinji shakes his head at Kensei's impatience, not that it was unexpected of the hothead.

"No! They might actually win this one!" Kensei's excitement is hard to contain, and he actually smiles at the idea of his favorite team not being losers!

"Oh yeah? Confident enough to put your money on it?"

Kensei snorts, leading the charge into the stadium amongst the throngs of people. "Not a chance."

Half of the group is sent to their seats while the other takes on the responsibility of securing food and drink, Kensei at the ready with the entire order memorized. The lines are dense, the entire area packed and noisy. Under normal circumstances he'd be overstimulated quickly and heavily irritated, but even those ticks of his can be overlooked for a ballgame.

He's next in line and fires off the order with precision, handing off the drinks to Shinji and Ichigo to run to deliver them to the rest of the group, Kensei more than capable of carrying all the food himself. His thick arms full, he steps away and makes for the stands just as the person in the line beside him exits at the same time.

"Woah there!" You steady yourself against Kensei's strong build, gripping his sleeveless jersey tightly to keep yourself standing as the hot dogs and nachos in his arms crash onto the floor.

"Jesus!" He grumbles, grasping your hip with a strong hand now that the food is gone.

"Oh, Kensei, I'm sorry." You glance at the floor before looking back up at the not-so-strange stranger.

""s just food, no worries." He mutters. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah." You wave off his concern easily. "Here, let me buy you your food again."

Kensei snorts, tugging at your own jersey that's for the rival team. "I don't need a Bears fan buying me a hot dog. That's how people choke."

"Ha!" You smile despite your offended scoff. "As if a Panthers fan could do anything but! They learned from the best!"

"You take that back!" Kensei pokes your shoulder.

"You gonna make me?" You smirk in the face of the handsome man, and he smirks right back at you.

"You will by the end of the game, princess."

"Guess we'll see, Ken. That is, if you make it to your seat by the end." Winking slyly, you saunter off and Kensei's left to realize just how much longer the line is now.

"Don't… Don't call me Ken." He grumbles out, heading for the back of the line.

Hell has frozen over: his friends all have plans on a Friday night, between dates and familial commitments and whatnot, and he's left to do whatever the hell he likes in peace. It's been years since he's had such an opportunity, and there's nowhere else in the world he'd rather be than here at his favorite dive, enjoying a basket of fish and chips with a mug of ice cold beer.

That was the plan, anyhow. And it started off that way easily enough.

But then you walked in with someone else.

Ever since he met you, you've popped up at the most random times and he's never expected not one of them, this time being the absolute furthest from expecting it he could be. Seeing you was one thing… Seeing you with another guy, in Kensei's favorite bar, was… So fucking rage-inducing that he's still contemplating throwing the guy through the window even an hour after seeing you come in.

Lookin' so pretty… For a fuckin' schmuck that took her to the shittiest dive in town.

Who the hell does the guy think he is? With the prettiest woman for miles on his arm, he's at a dive bar for a first date. The disrespect is insane, the lack of thought or care simply ludicrous. Kensei doesn't date anymore because it's just so stupid but damn if he wouldn't do better than this, by a lot.

"Awfully pouty tonight, Ken."

Kensei blinks out of his salty stupor, turning his head. "Don't call me Ken."

You laugh at his offense to the nickname and order two drinks from the bartender before looking back at him. "What's got you so worked up?"

Kensei feels like his brows will forever be stuck frowning, the vein at his temple about to burst. "Did you just order that grown man a drink?"

"Mhm. Is that an issue?"

He snorts, shaking his head at the bitter laugh he can't control. "No, if you like bums who can't show a pretty woman a good time."

Your teeth sink into your lip, tugging while enjoying how this big, tough guy seems to be jealous that you're with someone else. "Well, when you put it like that, I can't help but wanna see how you'd do it better."

And fuck, there it is. Kensei can't turn down such a golden opportunity; he's already a sucker for being challenged, add a beautiful woman into the mix, one that's mischievous and crafty like you, and he's got no choice but to jump in headfirst. "Then I'll show you. You'd do well to learn what a good date is."

Your grin is bright and you dive into your purse for a pen. "Call me anytime."

Kensei holds the napkin with your number carefully as you retreat to your horrible excuse for a date with the drinks, his heart pumping quicker than normal. Now he can access you intentionally, with ease.

A slow smirk spreads on his lips as he types the number into his phone, nearly wearing a shit-eating grin as he holds it to his ear and watches you politely step away from your sleazy date to answer the call.

"I'm ready to show you a better time."

Your laugh echoes across the room, and for once he's not embarrassed to laugh with you.

#kensei muguruma x you #kensei muguruma x reader #kensei imagine #kensei x reader #kensei x you #kensei bleach #bleach x reader #bleach imagine

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a-wolfs-bad-moon-rising · 2 years

Text

Modern Buddha x Reader Smut Working Nights

(I’m really on a Buddha phase lately so bare with me ;) )

Great this was just. Great. This shift at work utterly sucked. And what was worse was that I had to worked a double. And the closing shift ends at 2am. So I am exhausted. I have been here all day dealing with people and coworkers. Not to mention on top of it my boss got so frustrated with the shift himself that he called me into his office and chewed me out.

Now I was tired and super heated about all of it. I unfortunately have to work here to pay the bills until I can find a better job. With no luck so far, I am stuck here. Ugh I just wanted to get my mind off of it.

After work I was going to Buddha’s house. I met him at a gym we both frequent and he is super nice.

He very good for support and pushing me to do better.

He is actually the reason I decided to quit my shit job. We got to talking about it the day we met and I was rage working out. And he’s tried to help he as much as he could since then, looking at my resume with me and hyping me up before interviews.

Ugh I cannot wait to be done with this job. Especially with this shift. I just wanted to go over to Buddha’s house, get drunk, and fall asleep to a movie. I was off the next couple of days so I was fine drinking heavily. We were going to have a fun time.

I knew he was up because he was texting with me all night. He was getting just as pissed off as me. Actually he was more pissed off than me. So I intentionally left out the part about my boss chewing me out. I really just wanted a hug from him to make the night better.

The minute I was able to clock out, I was ready. Everyone else waited, not wanting to set me off anymore. I put my punch in and left that horrible place. I went out to my car and sat there for a moment in my seat. I turned my car on and gripped the steering wheel.

And then I cried a little. It was an overwhelming shift, and the yelling, and all the issues were enough to unravel me. I was just tired of it all. I turned on my headlights and drove the familiar route to Buddha’s house. I felt relieved turning into his complex. And again, I knew he was home, but seeing his car in the parking lot made me happy. I pulled into an empty space and stopped. I got out and reached into my backseat for the bag I packed.

I walked towards his building and then up the stairs until I was in front of his door. I knocked carefully and a few seconds later he opened and smiled at me. I made my move. I reached up and wrapped my arms around him and nuzzled into a hug. He held me tightly.

“Awe okay c’mon crazy let’s get inside.” He laughed. He moved and I went inside his apartment. It was warm and welcoming. I set my bag down and turned to face him. His smile dropped and he stepped closer. He hands when under my chin and he looked at my face closely. I don’t know why I felt flustered so suddenly.

“Why were you crying?”

Oh he saw my puffy eyes. I bit my lip.

“Was work really that bad?” He looked concerned.

“It was.” I replied and then I moved my foot around nervously, I knew he knew there was something else. So I looked up at him and told him all that I had left out during the night. He hugged me again and swayed.

“Why didn’t you tell meeeee that.” He said but not in a scolding way.

“I’m sorrryyy.” I told him. He laid his cheek on my head in a cute ‘grumpy’ way.

He pulled me toward the couch and he had set everything up. He had actually complained at me for taking too long at work. I sat down on the couch next to him.

“Let’s watch something to take your mind off of it.”

“Okay.” I felt so much better already. He popped open some alcohol for me and I sat back. Before the movie started I had gotten up and changed out of my work clothes. I got comfortable next to Buddha with my drink in hand.

We stayed up for a while and I have to admit I drank more than I probably should have. Me and Buddha got very close to each other. There was no denying our attraction. I think we were still getting used to one another. Trying to spend a lot of time together before we made any decisions. Of course we have spent the night together a few times, like I am tonight. But never anything other than cuddling or hugging. We never even kissed before.

Tonight I felt a lot of tension. Not uncomfortable. Thinking about it the boldness was probably brought on from the heavy alcohol intake. We both did drink a lot, Buddha could handle his liquor more than me any day.

I don’t remember how, but we ended up cuddling. He spooned me from behind and dragged his fingers up and down my waist. My attention was no longer on the movie. The colors flashed but barely registered. Then I felt him lean in close and smell my hair. And he pulled me closer. I didn’t protest.

“You smell so good nghh.” He said lazily

I smiled and snuggled more against him. He stopped moving his hand down my side for a moment and then started a tickle assault.

I busted out laughing and he sat up tickling me harder. I kicked my legs out and was trying to get away from him but he kept me still.

“S-Stop you ass.” I wheezed. I started crying it was too much and my sides hurt from the laughing. Buddha moved more and ended up on top of me. And then his attack subsided.

We stared at each other for a minute heavy breathing. I didn’t feel shy or embarrassed. I stared back at him feeling my desire increase.

I looked at his lips. They looked so inviting. He lowered down and kissed me. I felt a shock, his lips felt so good. We kept going and he moved his head changing the angle. It felt so good and we were getting more breathless. He moved to my neck and bit down. I jumped at the sudden harsh contact.

He looked into my eyes again. He squeezed my hips. I noticed finally just how hard he was.

“Can I take this off?” He asked hand twisted in my shirt.

“Yes.” I said weakly wanting to continue. I sat up and he leaned back and he helped me take it off. He was being careful with me and I appreciated it, but I wanted to feel more. I took my bra off for him. His eyes widened and he moved to kiss and bite my neck again. He sat up again to take his own shirt off and he laid back over me. I kissed at his neck and shoulder and felt his back.

“My bed’s a lot more comfy.” He stated still licking my neck. His voice dropped a lot lower and it was a huge turn on.

“Take me there please.” I told him. He moved to stand and brought me with him. He picked me up and wound my legs around him. He took us to his room and kept the light off. He laid me down in his unmade bed. Slowly we kept kissing and I had slid my underwear and shorts off. He completely stripped as well and laid down on me.

Carefully he ground into me and it felt good. He turned me around to mark and kiss down my back. I arched my back up, his cock slipping and rubbing against my pussy. The slick feeling excited me more because I knew it’d be easy for him to go inside.

“Do you like that baby?” He gruffed. The first time he called me that.

“Yes Buddha, yes” I squirmed. I moved my ass back and forth wanting to feel more of him. He laughed a little and pushed me down forcing my chest into the mattress. He slid his strong bicep under my body and hiked me up so my ass was up and inviting. I mewled into the sheets and gripped them tightly. Clenching and unclenching as my body tensed in excitement. He leaned down over me, his strong chest pushing into my back. “We can’t go back after this.” He started.

“I know, please, please God Buddha, now, Now!” i begged him. I needed him to enter me. I need to feel him pushing inside me and pounding into my pussy until I cum all over him. I needed the relief and to feel owned.

“Yes baby girl. Good girl.” He said kissing my neck. He pushed my ass down a bit spreading my thighs more. And then he dragged his cock up from my clit to the entrance.

“Oh baby I can’t.” He started. I was afraid he’d stop but instead he railed his cock deep into my pussy. The jolt almost caused my legs to give and there was a slight burning sensation. He gripped my hips and forced them to stay in place and not slip anymore. He forced his way completely inside me and I tossed my head and arched my back more. The aggression was intense and a complete difference from the gentle kissing moments before. His hips were rough pounding into me and he brought his hand up and smacked my ass. The loud crack it made echoed and I jerked forward moaning.

“Oh no you don’t.” He said dominately I moaned at the aggression. This is not a side of him I never say but I wasn’t complaining. He yanked my body back and fucked me hard. Going as deep as possible.

“Good you feel so good.” He groaned out

“It feels, oh fuck, it feels so good.” I moaned out to him. He smacked my ass again hard, in the same place. Then he flipped me onto my back and came back down. Forcing my legs open and shoving back inside me again. He gripped my thighs roughly, I could feel his finger nails. I arched up at him and he took the chance to bite my breasts. I squealed at the exciting feeling.

“Yes, yes harder Buddha.” He railed into me and kissed me his tongue brushing against the roof of my mouth. He gave me three hard thrusts and I felt myself about to cum.

“I-I’m coming, I’m gonna cum.” I told him.

“Oh yes come all over my cock good girl.” I felt the feeling get stronger and with each thrust he got me closer.

And finally I came. I squeezed down hard on his thick cock and I screamed.

“Oh. Ohhh yes good girl.” He grunted and kept thrusting to work me through it. He ke became more erratic until he pulled out and finished on my stomach. He groaned and then fell next to me.

I was trying to catch my breath.

“I’m. I’m glad you feel the same way.” I forced out. He picked his head up and looked at me. I could barely see his face from the light coming in from the living room.

“Of course I do. I’ve wanted to ask you out a couple of times.” His breathing was leveling out.

“I uh, guess we’re past that point then?” I laughed.

“Well if this means you’ll go out with me?”

I moved closer to him and kissed him.

“I’d love to.”

He got up to get fresh boxers and threw one of his clean shirts my way. I struggled to put it on, my body feeling to heavy to move. He crawled into his bed with me and intertwined our legs.

“Goodnight baby girl.” He said kissing my head. I leaned up and kissed his neck.

“Goodnight Buddha.” I felt so much love in my chest. I’m glad my shitty night ended in the best way possible.

#buddha x reader #record of ragnarok buddha #buddha x reader smut #fluffybuddha #Shuumatsu no Valkyrie

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