#i just got back from the parks and it was the first time in my life the trains were open when i was there

[cupidbedsy]

𝜗𝜚 drunken nights ; into you

➪ summary: after a long week, y/n just wants to unwind and luke looks after her when things get a little out of hand

➪ warnings: reader is an emotional and very clingy drunk

➪ word count: 2.1k

➪ cupid's notes: i am so so excited for everything that comes out of this au! if you want, please keep sending in thoughts and asks and yeah. i hope you guys enjoy

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

It had been way too long of a week for her, tests upon tests, assignment after assignment, and worst of all she had barely seen Luke all week. At first, the idea of getting up and getting ready for a party she knew she would only halfway enjoy seemed exhausting but then the thought of being able to unwind and see Luke made its way into her mind and she wasted no time in starting to do her makeup. 

Dressed in one of her favorite short black skirts, a blue corset top, with her leather jacket thrown on and her knee-high black boots adorning her feet, she let her friends drag her out of their dorm and down the stairs, heading for the car. 

She was silent almost the whole way there, the lingering stress and anxiety still flowing through her head. If it wasn’t for the idea of seeing Luke tonight, she would’ve let the uneasiness consume her entirely. 

She was so in her head that she didn’t even realize that they parked outside of the Frat house that was hosting the party that night. She could hear the music from outside, watching as the lights flickered within the house and people hung out on the lawn. 

She gripped her best friend’s hand tightly, walking through the crowded house towards the kitchen where all the drinks were. She watched as her friend poured her her first drink of the night, taking it gratefully and sipping on it. 

Luke was in the middle of a game of beer pong, laughing with a few of his frat boys, running a hand through his hair when he felt something within him shift. It was the same feeling he got whenever y/n showed up, whenever he would lay eyes on her, whenever she brushed her fingers against his arm. 

His eyes worked overtime trying to find her, looking from the other side of the living room to the front door. He frowned when he didn’t see her, immediately going to scan the house again, but that’s when he saw her, tipping her head back as she finished her drink and reaching out to grab another one from her friend. 

He mumbled an ‘excuse me’ before making his way over to her, pushing through people to do so. They had been texting any chance they got meaning he knew how stressed she had been the entirety of the week and now seeing her tip back the drink as fast as she did, he knew that she would be downing drinks like there was no tomorrow. 

He threw an arm around her as soon as he approached, taking the drink from her hand, “Hey.”

She frowned when the cup left her grasp, looking up at him with her signature doe eyes, whining, “Lukey.”

“Yes, pretty girl?”

“You took my drink.”

He laughed at her pout, bringing her closer to his side so he could press a kiss to her temple, “I did. How many have you had already?”

“I just got here, that’s my second one.”

He gave her a skeptical look but relented nonetheless, handing her the drink back. He watched the people around them before turning his attention back to her, “How’re you doing?”

“Okay.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows at the short answer, expecting at least something other than okay. He maneuvered her so she was standing in front of him, making her stare up at him. His eyes trailed over her face, making note of every single freckle, eyelash, curve, and contour of her face, “What’s wrong?”

“A little stressed still. Have a bunch of things to do this weekend still.”

“Which means you want to drink to your heart’s content don’t you?”

Y/n gave him a pleading look, “Just for tonight? Please, Lukey.”

She watched as he mulled over the thought in his mind, studying his damp curls and the bead of sweat falling down the side of his face. She took in his appearance while she waited, his unbuttoned dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and his khaki shorts that sat just above his knees. 

“Fine.” 

She was snapped out of her trance at his single word, giving him a grateful smile as she raised on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his cheek before downing her drink. He sighed in return, knowing that this was going to be a long night. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

And he was right, she drank drink after drink, giggling like a little schoolgirl with each one she had. He had forgotten about how she was when she was drunk, the cute little laugh she couldn’t stop releasing, her contagious smile, and her clingy nature. 

Y/n reached for another drink but Luke’s hand encompassed hers and took it into his own, bringing it to his chest as she glared at him. He grinned, dumping the cup’s contents down the sink and wrapping his arms around her waist, bringing her to his chest, “I think it’s time we get you home, pretty girl.”

“But I’m having fun.” Her whine was barely loud enough for him, he had to bend down just so he could hear her words. 

“And you’re not going to have any fun tomorrow if you keep having fun tonight. C’mon, let’s go.”

She only giggles again, reaching up to run a hand through his hair, “You’re pretty, Lukey.”

A smirk takes over his features, looking down at her curiously, “Is that so, princess?”

“Mhm. The prettiest,” she states matter-of-factly, tugging at one of his curls again. 

“You’re so drunk, baby.” He murmurs, kissing her forehead.

“I’m telling the truth!”

“And how can I be sure you’re not bluffing? You gonna prove it to me?”

“I will.”

“And how will you manage to do that?” He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest, his face still set in his usually cocky smugness. 

“You’ll find out. Just you wait, Luke Hughes.”

“Oh, I will be.”

A silence falls between them, or about as silent as you can get with music still blaring through multiple speakers and people yelling over said music. And after a few minutes, y/n could feel the tiredness creeping up on her causing her to shuffle closer to her best friend, laying her head on his chest, “Lukey?”

He wrapped her arms around her shoulders, resting his chin on her head, “Yeah, y/n/n?”

“Can we go now?”

He chuckled but nodded, “‘Course we can, c’mon.” His hand falls to her lower back, guiding her out of the house and down the street to where his truck was parked, helping her into the passenger seat. 

He walked around to the other side, climbing into the truck himself, stealing a glance over at her, and confusion flashing across his face when he saw the pout on her lips, “What’s wrong, pretty girl? Too much to drink?”

“Wanna sit by you.”

He raised an eyebrow, drawing his hand back from the keys that were in the ignition, “You want to sit by me?”

She just nodded, a determined feeling washing over her. He threw his head back, running a hand through his hair as he tried to think of a way to break it to her that she wouldn’t be able to sit in his lap. It had been so long since she had been this drunk that he had forgotten how clingy she got, and how sad she got when she didn’t get her way. 

“Y/n/n you can’t sit in my lap.” He stated softly, looking over at her. 

“Why not?”

“Because I’m driving, it’ll not only put you in danger but me as well. Just gotta wait a few minutes, sweet girl, and then you can cuddle me and sit in my lap as much as your heart desires.”

She whined again, “That’ll take too long.”

A chuckle escaped him, letting his hand move to settle on her thigh, “It won’t be more than 10 minutes, hell it probably won’t even be five.”

Y/n knew he was right, but that didn’t mean she wanted him to be right. She stared back at him, trying to assert some level of authority over him but the challenging look he was giving her was enough to make her sink back into the seat, “Fine.”

“Good girl.” He squeezed her thigh, leaning over to kiss her temple before starting his truck and pulling away from the curb. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Luke had to drag her upstairs, y/n letting him carry most of her body weight as she rested against him. The two came to a stop at his room, y/n waiting as he opened the door, leading her to sit down on his bed. She watched him carefully as he picked a few things off the ground, mostly dirty clothes, and placed them where they should be. 

He could feel her gaze on him but he paid no mind to it, continuing to tidy up as best as he could. When he finished, he turned back to her, smiling softly as her eyes opened and closed. He walked over to her, placing his index finger beneath her chin and tilting her head up so she was looking at him through hazy eyes, “Tired, princess?”

“Mhm.”

“Let’s get you changed then, yeah?”

She just nodded in response, letting him move to grab one of his T-shirts from his drawer and an extra pair of sleep shorts she kept at his. He handed them to her but she just gave him a look of helplessness. He chuckled, “You want me to help?”

“Please.”

“Alright, baby.” He took the clothes from her again, placing them beside her on the bed, slipping her jacket off, and throwing it on the chair in the corner. 

His fingers skimmed her stomach as he went to take her shirt off, cooing softly, “Arms up.”

She did as she was told, lifting her arms so he could easily slide the shirt off of her, doing the same thing he did with her jacket. He tugged her skirt down before putting her shorts on and letting the t-shirt fall over her frame. 

“Better?”

“Mhm.” She moved to curl up on his bed, bringing the comforter around her, letting the heat surround her. 

Luke changed into a random pair of sweatpants, throwing his shirt in the laundry basket, and kissing her forehead, “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Where you going?”

“Gonna get you some water and some meds so you’re head doesn’t hurt in the morning.”

“Quick?”

“Yeah, I’ll be quick.”

She nodded, snuggling into the bed as he left the room, practically running down the steps to the kitchen. 

And just like he promised, he was back within three minutes, two glasses of water and a few pills that he rested on his nightstand. He coaxed her into sitting up, letting her sit between his legs so her back was flush with his chest. 

“Drink.” He pressed the glass to her lips, urging her to take soft sips.  She sighed as the cool liquid went down her throat, relaxing even further into him. 

Once she finished the glass, he let her lay back down, him following in her steps, pulling her against him, “Get some sleep.”

Some time in between the time he left and when he got back, a small burst of energy made its way into her, causing her to turn over to face him, a small smile on her face, “No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“Wanna stay with you.”

“You were going to sleep with me here anyway, baby.”

“I want to stay awake and talk to you.” A frown graced her lips, pouting once again. 

Butterflies erupted in his stomach, looking at her in awe, “That’s sweet of you princess, but you need your rest.”

She nodded, the energy she got quickly fading, but one question lingered in her mind, “Lu?”

“What’s up?”

“I’m your best friend right?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “‘Course you are. Why’re you asking?”

“Just wondering.”

“Now tell me the real reason.”

“I dunno, just- would you go out with someone else?”

He softened, “I wouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause you’re mine, y/n/n.”

“Really?” Her eyes lit up slightly, her mind and body still letting the alcohol affect them. 

“Yep, all mine, baby.”

She didn’t say anything more, just snuggled into him once again, drifting off to sleep almost instantly. Luke knew she wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning, the only thing she would have as a reminder would be the pounding headache once she woke up.

꒰ INTO YOU TAGLIST ꒱

@fantillisgirl @hughesmedicine @jjgsunflower @kaydesssssssss

INTO YOU MASTERLIST ; AU'S

TAGLIST ; NHL MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION

[mewhenimanangel]

need that, hamzahthefantastic

prev pt 3*

—synopsis. hamzah invites you over to be in their new video

—warnings!: freaky uti, dry humping, undressing

notes 🫧: the fight was so tuff, i’m a die hard noob

—🐞

you parked your car outside hamzah’s house, fixing your lip gloss and zipping up your sweater before going to knock on his door.

him and martin invited you to be in one of their sims videos since mandy was on vacation and they knew you played as well.

it’s been around two weeks since you and hamzah made out in his car. since then, you’d been texting a lot more and you hung out twice with mandy and martin. though, you haven’t done anything to continue what he started.

hamzah answered the door with a grin, “come on in boi, we haven’t started playing yet. martin’s still connecting the camera and the mic” he closed the door behind you.

you felt something brush against your leg, looking down to see his cat rubbing itself on your leg. “awwww he’s so cute” you reached down to see if he’d let you pick him up.

when he did you held him in your arms and rubbed behind its ear. “which one is this?” you asked hamzah. “this is blue. red’s probably upstairs somewhere clawing at something.” he said, reaching over your arm to pet blue.

“i had to put a child lock on my fridge cause they figured out how to open it bruh” he shook his head.

you giggled looking at him with a smile.

“oh hey y/n, didn’t know you were here already. i just finished setting up the camera” martin said. “heyy” you put blue down on the floor, following martin.

“you ready to get your sims on?” he asked. “try freaking born ready” you giggled, hamzah following behind you.

you sat off to the side on the couch in hamzah’s office while they started the video. “hello everynyan-” hamzah interrupted him “dude what” “it’s like a meme like have you ever seen it? it’s like oh my gahhh” martin awkwardly repeated the video, hamzah stifling a laugh. “anyways we’re back and better than frigging ever” martin started off.

“now it has been a while-“ “definitely been a while-“ “right, a while since our regularly scheduled programming” hamzah said. “i hope you guys enjoyed the fight, we worked super hard literally for like six months”

“and you may realize we’re not in our usual spot, wanna tell them why that is?” martin said. “yes we are, we’re in my house this time because mandy’s on vacation and martin, feeling like a sad little lonely boy wanted to come over and play with me”

“yes mandy is gone. she is in spain right now because she doesn’t love me anymore. you know what they say, ‘go to spain when your lover’s a pain’. that’s why she hasn’t proposed to me yet in the big year of twenty twenty-five” martin went on. “literally nobody says that”

“but speaking of mandy, today we’re playing the sims. something we haven’t done in a long time and we need a little bit of a refresher” “yes, the sims is a girl game and since we don’t have mandy, we brought back up” hamzah added.

“yes, we obviously cannot play this game ourselves so we brought in another expert” they looked at each other before counting down from 3 and snapping their fingers. you knew they were gonna put some silly transition effect over this.

hamzah got up to get another chair for you “you good?” he asked you, making sure you were comfortable. and you nod your head before sitting between them. “hellurr. yes i am mandy’s back up today. because obviously, they don’t know what they’re doing so im taking over.”

“dude what is it with girls and the sims. only girls know how to play the sims” martin and hamzah riffed while you logged into your sims account.

“now this is your first time on here y/n, how do you feel in the presence of such greatness” martin asked. “well im honored to be on but i don’t know about ‘greatness’” you joked.

after two hours of creating sims and making them kill, cheat, fornicate, and find love, they ended the video. “banger video alert” hamzah turned the computer off. “uhh yeah that was really good if i do say so myself.” you pat yourself on the back.

the three of you lounged around hamzah’s living room for another hour after that. “are you guys hungry?” hamzah asked “i was gonna order some food” “actually i still have some packing to do for my flight tomorrow” martin sighed while playing with red. “oh shit right, i forgot” hamzah shrugged.

“i’m gonna head out now bro i’ll see you next week” he dapped hamzah up before doing the same to you. hamzah followed him out before closing the door behind him.

“i could eat” you shrugged and hamzah smiled. he pulled his phone out and ordered chick-fil-a, adding in your order.

you sat criss crossed on his couch as blue jumped into your lap, snuggling up against you and purring. “his ass definitely likes you” hamzah chuckled.

“do you want one?” he asked, coming back from his bedroom with a little jar of edibles. “sure” you reached to grab one with your nails.

hamzah grabbed one too and you tapped them together in a ‘cheers’ motion before eating them.

you soured your face and gagged “okay these are nasty oh my god” you laughed. “yeah they taste like butt but they do the job. the food should be here in like twenty minutes” he said, joining you on the couch.

you helped him review the footage from the video before he sent it to their editor. by now the edible was beginning to kick in and you were growing hungrier by the minute. his door bell rung and he got up to answer the door.

he came back holding the bags of food up with a smile on his face and plopped down onto the couch, this time much closer to you, legs and arms touching.

“fuck i’m starving. is that shit kicking in for you yet?” he asked, handing you your sandwich and fries. “oh it is” you grinned.

“have you ever had the mac and cheese?” he asked you. “no i usually go for the fries” “okay here you gotta try it.” he took some on his fork and put it in front of your mouth, paying close attention to the way your lips wrapped around the fork. “right?” he nod his head at your reaction.

“wait here, you’ve got some cheese on your mouth” he said, brushing your lip off with a napkin. “oh..oops” you giggled through your slowed words.

the two of you tore through your food, turning on family guy in the background. “that was so fucking good” you looked at him, eyes low and red.

“right…..i’m stuffed.” you slowly sipped on your milkshake. “do you ever think about what they do with the cut out pieces of fries?” you asked, just chatting. “i always wonder but they probably just throw them away.” he added.

you leaned back into the couch, cross legged, knee resting atop of hamzah’s as he put his arm on the back of the chair behind you.

he slowly rubbed your bare shoulder that peeked from under your hoodie that was falling off. you leaned your head back, resting it on his arm before looking at him.

“so, are we just never gonna talk about it again?” you addressed the elephant in the room. “hm?” he looked at you. “the kiss, are we just gonna act like it didn’t happen?”

“no of course not, i just wasn’t sure if i had made you uncomfortable so i didn’t wanna push anything again” he shrugged. “hamzah i kissed you back for a reason. i wanted it” you reassured. “and i still do” you said, looking away for a second.

he grabbed your chin, turning your face back to his before kissing you. you leaned into the kiss, rubbing your nails at the back of his neck.

the room filled with your mutual satisfied sounds, hamzah pushing his hand up under your sweater. he laid you down against the couch arm, keeping himself steady atop of you.

he slowly pulled the zip down, taking off your sweater off, you willed yourself to follow his lead, wrapping your arms around him. he broke the kiss, “you good, right?” he asked. “yeah, keep going. i want you, hamzah” you reassured. he kissed you again before lining kisses down your jawline and throat. he sucked down on your skin “wait don’t leave any hickeys” you said through a moan.

“too late” he let out a breathy laugh, making you giggle. hamzah let out a soft noise at the feeling of your nails rubbing through his hair. he slowly eased his up under your tank top, reaching up he grabbed a handful of bra. “here, hang on” you sat up, taking off your shirt and throwing it by your sweater. you fiddled with your bra clasp and eased the straps off your shoulders, letting your boobs rest.

hamzah stared at them, mouth agape. “that was a push up bra by the way, so don’t be too disappointed” you joked. “how would i be disappointed. you’re fucking hot” he pulled you atop of him and kissed you, hands firm on your ass.

he kissed down the middle of your chest before his mouth latched on. you sighed in satisfaction when he rolled his tongue.

you subconsciously grinded your hips on his, feeling him grow. “fuck” you winced. you stayed in that position for a while, dry humping each other as he kissed and sucked all over your upper body. you felt yourself getting needier by the minute. “hamzah-“ you started before being interrupted by a knocking on the door. “dude let me in, i forgot my wallet” it was martin.

you looked at hamzah before getting up. he kissed you “go to my bedroom, i’ll be there in a second” he told you and you smirked before leaving the room.

hamzah let him in “ugh thank you, i was worried you fell asleep” martin said, spotting his wallet on the side table.

hamzah looked over his shoulder realizing your shirt and bra were still thrown around on the couch. “imagine i went all the way to spain and forgot this just sitting here” martin chuckled before turning around, hamzah missing the chance to let him not to.

“oou you got chick-fil-a? anything left?” he looked inside a bag before he came face to face with your bra. he turned around, jaw dropped “dude!” he gasped and hamzah grinned.

lvryn

Liked by hamzahthefantasfic, clairedrakee and others

lvryn alright who pressed fast forward on my weekend 😂

mandys_iphone cute

user HELLO? is this a soft launch?????

ynlover omg this and how touchy they were in the sims video last month, they’re definitely dating ?)!(!;$:

— 🐞 the end

[ariestrxsh]

dealer!chris x dealer!reader

💸 content warning: smut/angst (in later chapters; this one's mostly just suggestive), mentions of hard drugs and guns, enemies to lovers, slow burn

💸 summary: you and chris spend the night hanging out on his roof after your first day of making sales together.

there will be several parts to this story, and they will contain sex, drugs, violence, use of weapons, and a lot of things that could be triggering if you've ever been apart of the drug world or loved someone with an addiction. i don't mean to glorify drug use, selling, or anything like that, but i wanted this story to be realistic, so it does appear like a somewhat "glamorous" lifestyle to chris and the reader in the first few parts. i want to make it very clear that when you get involved in the drug world in real life, you usually end up in one of two places: the ground or prison.

WHEN SPARKS FLY

chapters: | intro | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

The sun sank slowly below the skyline, and the evening turned to nightfall as you and Chris finished up your last deal of the day. You'd been showing him all the stops, introducing him to your customers, and teaching him the way you did everything.

He got into your passenger seat and sighed as his head fell against the headrest, really wishing he had a joint right about now. "Damn, ma. I can't believe how much money we made today," Chris mumbled, slouching down into his seat. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the wad of cash he'd made for the day.

"I know, and we're only a third of the way through the product," you smiled back, doing the math in your head about the potential profit. "I could never work a 9 to 5," Chris sighed, sifting through the $100 bills. "Can't believe I just made in a day what it would take some sucker to make in two weeks at some office job."

You fastened your seatbelt and turned the key in the ignition, admiring Chris, who brought his fingers to his lips and slowly licked them as he separated the crisp hundreds. "What are you thinking about, ma? My tongue or my fingers?" Chris flirted, catching you staring out of the corner of his eye and giving you a seductive smirk as he ran his tongue along the pads of his fingers again, flitting through his money.

You squeezed your thighs together as you bit down on your lip. For a moment, you were thinking about both at the same time. You hated the effect he had on you, the way he knew how to get inside your head, intrude on your thoughts, and invade your sexual fantasies. "You're fucking gross, Chris," you replied, rolling your eyes and trying to hide how turned on you were.

He responded with a chuckle, knowing that he was getting to you even if you wanted to deny it. "So, am I dropping you off at your girlfriend's house?" You asked, reminding him that he had one. "Nah, can you drop me off at my place? I'm staying home tonight," Chris requested. "I can do that. Just tell me where to go," you replied, your eyes darting around between the road in front of you, your side mirrors, and your rearview.

"So, have you told Daisy yet?" You asked, your gaze flickering over at Chris, who was shaking his head. "I'll tell her, ma, when I'm ready," Chris grumbled. He knew you were right. He knew he had some things to work out, like telling his girlfriend the real way he made his money or dealing with the fact that he was finding himself sexually attracted to his new business partner. He stole another glance at you from your passenger seat as the fantasy he'd had the night before flashed through his mind, praying you wouldn't notice the tent forming in his jeans.

When you pulled into Chris' driveway, he thanked you again for the ride. "I can't believe I've been sober for eight hours," Chris mentioned, bouncing his leg as you parked. "No wonder you've been so uptight today," you teased him. "Maybe you should come smoke with me since you're always uptight," Chris smirked, nudging you in the arm with his elbow, but his offer was genuine.

You gave him an annoyed look, but you couldn't hold back the smile that spread across your lips. "I don't smoke weed, Chris. I haven't since I was a teenager," you replied, fidgeting with the material of your black steering wheel cover. "Why not?" Chris wondered, surprised by your admission. "I like being clear-headed. I don't like feeling out of control," you shrugged.

"We're on a floating rock in space, ma. The idea that you have control over anything is an illusion," Chris laughed, reaching for his door handle. "C'mon. Come inside. Do you drink? I've got a beer with your name on it if you wanna hang out with me for a little."

You were quiet for a second. It wasn't often that people invited you to hang out or just do something fun with them, and for a moment, you thought maybe you could use it. "I could stay for one beer," you responded hesitantly, nervously rubbing the back of your neck. "That's what I'm talking about, ma. Let your hair down once in a while," Chris replied, beaming with a smile.

You trailed behind him, staring down at your shoes as you followed the pattern of the stepping stones that led to his front door. "Oh, shit. I forgot my house key at Daisy's place," he sighed, running his finger through his hair. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. "Do you need me to take you to Daisy's place after all?" You huffed, slightly annoyed at the situation.

"Nah, it wouldn't do any good anyways. She's at work. Plus, this won't take long," Chris said, pulling a pin out of his pocket and fiddling with the lock. You nervously looked around, worried someone was going to see him picking his lock and call the cops or something, but in a matter of seconds, you heard a click, and you watched as he turned the knob. His door creaked open, and he glanced back at you with a mischevious smile.

"Okay, now you're just showing off," you replied, raising an eyebrow. "What can I say, ma? I'm good with my hands. Gotta show you my skillset somehow," Chris playfully winked at you. You scoffed, biting back a smile. A part of you liked the way he couldn't keep himself from making sexual innuendos and flirting with you.

"If you need me to pick a lock on a deal, though, you're splitting the money 50/50 with me," Chris told you, stepping into his living room. "What kind of shady shit do you think I'm up to, Chris? I'm just selling coke. Not robbing people," you joked, following him in. "You never know," Chris peeked back at you over his shoulder with a smirk on his face.

"This is it," he announced, raising his arms to present his place to you. It was a dimly-lit, relatively small place, but it had a safe, cozy vibe to it. "I like it," you told him, your eyes scanning them room. You noticed his sprouting marijuana plants in the corner sitting beneath his grow lights and an old shelf beside it that was littered with comic books and novels you'd never heard of.

His house faintly smelled of weed and sandalwood, like how Chris always smelled, and you found the familiar scent comforting as it wafted through the air. He directed you over towards his couch and motioned for you to sit. You sat down, awkwardly perching at the edge of the couch cushion.

"C'mon, ma. You can relax. Kick your feet up," he told you, heading over towards his fridge to give you that beer he promised you. You exhaled and slowly leaned back into his sofa that was much softer than you imagined it would be. Chris twisted the cap off the bottle and handed it to you. The red and white label that read Stella Artois stared back at you, and you hesitantly reached out and took it.

Chris plopped down on the couch beside you, and you watched as he sprinkled a bit of ground weed into his rolling paper. You peered down at his rings and his fingers at the way they skillfully handled the joint, tucking the paper in and folding it in on itself.

His gaze flickered up at you as his tongue darted out, and he licked a long, slow stripe across the edge of the joint. His lips curled into a suggestive smile as he noticed you watching him, but you acted unamused, pulling your eyes away from his. You held the bottle up to your lips, taking a small, refreshing sip, the bubbles fizzing against your tongue as you relaxed further into the comfy couch.

You peered down the hall to an open door at the end. The room was dark, but you imagined it was probably Chris' bedroom. You found yourself wondering what it looked like, how comfortable his bed was, and how hard it would be for you to keep your hands off of him if you ever found yourself alone with him in there.

"You coming?" Chris asked, pulling you out of your thoughts and standing to his feet as soon as you'd gotten comfortable. "Coming where?" You wondered, giving him a perplexed look. "To the roof. The view's great up there," Chris responded, making his way towards the back door.

You hesitantly followed him back out into the cool air of the backyard where he had a ladder propped up against the side of his house. "C'mon, ma. I'll hold your beer. You start climbing the ladder," Chris told you, extending his arm to take your bottle from you. "Yep. Just smoking and drinking on a roof. What could possibly go wrong?" You muttered under your breath as you wrapped your fingers around the cold, metal rungs.

"Don't worry, ma. I'll be right behind you, so if you fall, I'll catch you," Chris' breath tickled your neck as he pressed his warm body into yours. Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. It was the closest you'd ever been to him. You were just glad you were faced away from him, so he couldn't see the unmistakable look of desire written in your expression as heat radiated off his skin.

You cleared your throat and regained your composure. "Is that your gun, or are you just happy to see me?" You snarked at him, peering over your shoulder in an attempt to take control of the situation again. Chris chuckled, but he didn't answer you, leaving it up for interpretation. You started to hesitantly climb the ladder, and Chris followed closely behind, keeping his promise to not let you fall as he held your beer in one hand and the unlit joint between his lips.

The two of you made it to the roof, and Chris handed you your beer once the two of you got settled. The star-filled sky hung overhead as you looked out at the horizon. You saw the tops of the other houses, the city lights scattered across the skyline, and the waves crashing on the beach shore off in the far distance. You brought your bottle of Stella Artois up to your lips and took another sip as you took in the view. There was something about this perspective that made your problems feel smaller and less pressing.

"Pretty cool, isn't it, ma?" Chris asked beside you as you heard the flick of his lighter sound as he held the flame up to the end of his joint. You quietly nodded, surprised by how much you could see from Chris' roof. "So, ma. What do you say we get to know each other better and play your favorite game, twenty questions?" Chris smiled over at you with the lit joint pinched between his two fingers.

You rolled your eyes, but you didn't have an excuse this time. There was no work to be done, and there was nowhere to go to avoid his questioning, so you took a deep breath and another swig of your drink. "Okay, fine. Hit me," you finally replied after a moment of hesitancy.

"Where do you go to clear your mind?" Chris wondered, his gaze locked on you. "The beach. I like the waves. The sounds of the seagulls. Feeling the sand between my toes. It's peaceful," you shrugged. Even though the question wasn't a very personal one, you felt vulnerable answering.

"What about you, Chris?" You wondered aloud. "You're looking at it," Chris said with his joint tucked between his lips. He didn't need to explain anything further. You could tell why this was the place he went to sort out his thoughts.

"Alright. What kind of music do you listen to?" You blurted out, not sure of what to ask him next. "Anything, really. But I prefer indie over everything else," he told you. "Okay, play me your favorite song," you told him, gesturing towards his phone he had sitting beside him. He picked it up, staring back at you as he thought about it for a moment. "Alright," he responded, scrolling through the saved albums on his phone until he came across AM by Arctic Monkeys. No. 1 Party Anthem started playing through the speaker of his phone, and you nodded in approval as the melody filled the space between you.

"If you could have dinner with anyone, dead or alive, who would you choose?" Chris asked, turning off his phone screen and letting the song play softly in the background of your conversation. You thought about it for a moment. "See, I wanna say Pablo Escobar or something, but I think I'd want to have dinner with one of those druglords who flew under the radar so well that we don't even know their names," you replied. "Damn, ma. That's a good answer," Chris mumbled with the joint hanging from his lips.

He glanced up at you as if silently reminding you it was your turn to ask a question. "What did you think of me when you first met me?" You wondered aloud. You gave him a look like he should be careful about how answered this question. He cracked a smile, remembering the first time you'd approached him and threatened him for selling his weed on your block and trying to steal your customers. "I thought you were tough. Not the kind of woman you want to mess with. I also thought you were super hot," Chris admitted. You blushed, hoping Chris couldn't tell in the glow of the moon.

"What's one thing you don't leave the house without?" Chris asked you, pulling a long drag from his joint. "My keys," you sharply responded, subtly teasing him for having to break into his own place earlier. He let out a laugh. "And my gun," you told him. You sipped on your bubbly drink, noting that the song had changed.

Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High started to play as you glanced back over at the blue-eyed man beside you. "If you could change one thing about yourself, what would you change?" You asked, peeling the label off your beer bottle. "Nothing," Chris smirked over at you. "Nothing?" You reiterated, furrowing your brow. "Nothing," he repeated. "You're a little cocky, aren't you?" You shot back. "I prefer confident," Chris chuckled before he pulled from the joint again.

"What do you think the most important quality in a friend or partner is?" Chris asked after a few seconds of silence. "Honesty and loyalty," you said without hesitation, and Chris nodded in agreement. "You?" You asked. "Probably just someone who isn't going to bail when things get hard," Chris sincerely responded.

"What's your biggest fear?" You asked him, the questions getting deeper and deeper. "Losing the people I love," he answered, staring down at the build-up of ash on the cherry before flicking it off. "How about you, ma?" He returned the question. "Trusting the wrong person and getting hurt," you responded almost immediately. "I get that," Chris answered, his gaze still fixed on you.

"What's your guilty pleasure?" Chris asked you, his luscious lips curling into a smile as he awaited your response. "Probably those dumb reality shows," you admitted, your cheeks growing warm. "Really? Never took you for a girl who likes trash TV," Chris teasingly nudged your arm. "Daisy loves that shit, too."

"What's one of your guilty pleasures?" You asked Chris. He bit down on his lip as he looked you up and down. He knew what he wanted to say, but he knew it would be crossing the line of just playful flirting and venturing into uncharted territory, so he came up with something on the spot.

"Watching the trash TV with her. I'm always making fun of her for watching The Bacholorette and shit like that, but then I find myself watching it with her and getting all invested," Chris confessed.

"I totally get it. Like, I started watching it as a joke at first, and then you get to know the people. Then you start wanting them to end up together," you said, glancing up at him, and his eyes met yours. The song changed again, and you listened as the lyrics came through:

🎶 If you like your coffee hot, let me be your coffee pot. You call the shots, babe. I just wanna be yours. 🎶

The two of you stared at each other in a comfortable silence for a moment, Chris taking a puff of his weed as you took a swig of beer. "So, what does Daisy think you're out doing all day when you're working?" You wondered, raising an eyebrow at him. "As far as she knows, I work in sales, which isn't totally a lie. She just doesn't know about the drugs," Chris shrugged. "Yeah, she doesn't know about the most important detail," you scoffed, tapping on the glass of your bottle.

"Why are you always judging me for that, ma? I've got my reasons. Why are you so pressed about it?" He asked, sounding a bit defensive. "I had an ex who kept things from me, like how much money he owed certain people. He put me in a lot of dangerous situations. Don't want to watch you do the same shit to Daisy," you murmured, letting Chris in more than you had up until this point. "I didn't know, ma," Chris said, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder and relaxing his jaw. "You know, I'd never intentionally hurt her. Or you."

"It doesn't matter, Chris. You can be the most well-intentioned person in the world and still hurt the people around you," you responded. He was quiet for a few minutes, mulling over what you said.

"Your ex? Alex?" Chris wondered, blowing out a cloud of smoke against the night sky as he recalled Joe using that name earlier. "Yeah. My dumb fuck ex. He got himself killed because he owed the wrong people money," you said in a dry tone. "Holy shit. Ma, I'm so sorry," Chris whispered. "Don't be. He deserved it," you muttered under your breath.

"Hey, I have a question. Why do you always call me ma?" You chimed in. "It's just a sign of respect. That's all," he shrugged. "Why? Does it bother you?"

"No. It's fine. I don't care what you call me. You gotta stop looking at me like that, though. Looking like you're gonna kiss me or some shit," you accused him, following his gaze that danced between your eyes and your lips as you took another drink of your beer. The song changed again.

🎶 How many secrets can you keep? 'Cause there's this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow, and I play it on repeat until I fall asleep. 🎶

"I'm not looking at you any type of way! Maybe you're projecting because you wanna kiss me," he shot back. The sexual tension between the two of you was thick, and for a moment, you each thought about it. The temptation was there, and it was strong. You wanted to pull him as close as you could, passionately press your lips against his, and tangle your fingers in his soft, brown hair, but you didn't want to ruin your business relationship with him.

Chris thought the same, wondering what it would be like to kiss you, but he didn't want to screw up what he had with Daisy, and he didn't want to give you the wrong impression. He diverted his eyes, glancing down at his joint that had burned down to the roach, and he put it out. "Get enough of the view, ma? I'm getting kind of tired," Chris chimed in as you admired his profile in the moonlight.

For a moment, you forgot he was talking about the scape of the city from the roof. "Oh, right. Yeah, of course. I should probably go," you said, fiddling with the empty bottle in your hand. "You can stay the night if you need to," Chris motioned towards the alcoholic beverage you'd finished off, but he knew he was playing with fire the moment the words left his mouth, inviting you to stay the night.

🎶 Do I wanna know if this feeling flows both ways? Sad to see you go, was sort of hoping that you'd stay. 🎶

The two of you exchanged a look like you both knew it wouldn't be a good idea. Even with you both sleeping in separate rooms, you each knew deep down that a closed door wouldn't be enough to deter you two from the temptation. "It's cool, Chris. It was just one beer. I'll just grab a glass of water, sit on your couch for twenty minutes, and I'll be fine to drive," you told him. Chris picked up his phone and paused the song. "I got you, ma. I'll help you down."

You felt elated once you were finally sitting back down on Chris' couch, sobering up. You weren't sure if it was a buzz from the alcohol, an adrenaline rush from being on the roof, or just the way you were starting to feel around Chris.

Chris gave you some crackers to help "absorb the alcohol," because he had "heard somewhere that it does," and even though you'd only had one beer, it was sweet that he cared enough. You also both just knew that you had to sober up, because staying the night wasn't an option unless you were both prepared to give into the force that was pulling the two of you together and end up doing something that could hurt Daisy or hurt your business relationship.

So you were munching away on Ritz crackers on Chris' couch after your single beer, and once you felt like the effects of the alcohol had worn off, you made a comment about how late it was getting and about how you should probably get going.

You left, following the same stepping stones you'd used when you walked up. When you approached your car, you reached into your empty pocket for your keys just to remember you'd left them on Chris' coffee table. "Shit," you whispered, realizing you were going to have to do a walk of shame back up to his front door after giving him shit for forgetting his keys earlier.

Chris had already started to get ready for bed, shedding his layers and slipping into a pair of flannel pajama pants when a soft knock sounded at his front door. He peeked through the peephole to make sure it was you, his heart racing and secretly wondering if you'd come back to kiss him or confess your feelings for him, his mind swirling with half a dozen possibilities.

He turned the doorknob, and when you saw him, your eyes were immediately drawn to the fact that he was shirtless. "Uh, sorry. I forgot my keys," you told him, unable to conceal your smile at the irony of the situation. "Oh, you mean, the keys you don't go anywhere without?" Chris asked, leaning against the door frame and indulging in the fact that you were doing nothing to hide the fact that you were checking him out.

"Yeah. Those ones," you smirked, biting down on your lip. "I'll go get 'em, ma," Chris chuckled at you as he turned to retrieve your keys. You found yourself holding your breath as your gaze danced over the definition of his back muscles in the soft lighting of his living room.

He handed them to you, and as you took them from him, his hand brushed against yours. You both exchanged a look that was heavy with the words unspoken between you, but you also both silently agreed it was for the best. "Okay, goodnight," you said, unconsciously batting your eyelashes at him. "Goodnight," Chris smirked, eyeing you up and down as you turned to walk away before closing his door again.

As soon as you made it to your car, you reflected on the way you acted and how stupid you must have sounded, silently kicking yourself. You didn't harp on it for long, though. Your embarrassment was quickly overshadowed by the intoxication and bliss you felt from being around such an attractive man who was beginning to make you smile more than he made you roll your eyes.

taglist: @skye-44 @faiyaz555 @idrk2292 @chrisclean @drewswife @trevorsgodmother @sofisturns @milo-the-dog @rockstarchr1s @bluetalia @xaristhings @nomusic-nodreams @birkinbratsworld @wastelandzella @bsturnzmtts @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @jassturn @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @witchofthehour @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @hrtz4alex2211 @drewstarkeys @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @babysturniolo @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mattlover-00

[ishasturnz]

Cookies ‘n Head

based off this post @sunrisemill and this fic.

contains: porn with plot, counter head?, some fluff, i think thats it, male receiving.

Bsf!Reader x bsf!Chris

authors note: it took me like an hour to figure out a plot just for this because i wanna spoil you guys. Also click on the first message to see the full thing. And RUSHED and maybe a part 2.

wc: 579

character count: 2635

4:36

My car started to pull into his driveway, the smell of freshly baked cookies filling my nose slightly making me lightheaded.

I parked and stepped out of the drivers seat and headed to the front door. Before I could even knock the door swung open revealing a very excited Chris.

“Thank you! thank you! thank you!” He squealed like a girl before attempting to take the white box away.

“Hey! Calm down, you get fed every day I think you’ll be fine without COOKIES for a few seconds.”

5:48

“Can I eat them now?” Chris persistently asked repeatedly like a child. “Okay go ahead and eat some since you want them so badly.”

I grabbed one for myself since I was a bit hungry since I didn't eat lunch.

I took a small bite of the soft food, Chris just stared at my lips the whole time.

Noticing how plump my lips were, how smooth my brown skin was, but his thoughts shifted from something else.

And wasn't appropriate once so ever.

“Chris dude, are you even gonna eat the cookies? I’m only saving them because I want you to have some, secondly, I’m hungry too” My voice chose to get a slight attitude and sassiness added into it.

“Well first off lose the fucking attitude, secondly, M’not hungry. Not for food at least.” His accent started to slip out slowly the deeper his voice got.

“Okay, then what are you hungry for? Because you’re not the only one hungry. But I’m hungry for food so what do you wanna eat then?” I started to slowly get hangry and sassier by the second.

“I got something that’ll make you full.” Those were his last words before I somehow ended up on my knees in front of him.

6:09

"y-yeah—shiit, juuust like tha--mmpfh-ah," Chris’s head fell back against the white cabinet behind him.

His rough hands pulled my hair into a makeshift ponytail, guiding my movements as I continued sucking him off.

His eyes hooded, making it seem like they’ve rolled back completely. His hips started to buck into my mouth making the tip of his oversized cock nudging against the back of my throat making me continuously gag around him.

The noise of gargling filled the entire kitchen "fuuuck, I’m right there, just... just—shit," he groaned out loud.

Hot tears spilled down my face as he continued to face-fuck me. Until the tight coil in his lower stomach started getting tighter and tighter by the second.

and his climax hit him hard, his whole body shuddering, hips twitching into your mouth uncontrollably.

his hips twitching almost involuntarily as he spilled deep down your throat, he held your head down by the makeshift ponytail to make sure you swallowed all of his sticky release a quiet moan left his mouth “..Shittt…”.

6:40

I wiped the corners of my mouth getting rid of access cum and licking it off my thumb. “You should drink more water or something chris— your cum tastes like ass.” My tone playful but I wasn’t joking at all.

“Yeah I don’t think now’s the best time to mention that.” Chris spoke while catching his breath yet munching on one of the soft cookies.

“Yeah sure buddy” I paused before speaking again, “Also who knew Christopher Sturniolo whimpers, more blackmail for me”

“Oh fuck you Y/n.” He uttered with a mouthful of chewed-up cookies in his mouth.

“I mean you can if you want to, I’m not saying no.”

taglist: @tezzzzzzzz @chrepsi @angvl3tears @theylovedemi @sturnshood @sturnberries @sturniologirlzz @muwapsturniolo @dykes4chris @chrisisadilf @chrissturniolossidebitch @baileysturnz @slut4christopherr @slxt4chriss @slvtf0rchr1s @slxtarchive @raesturns @hjvi @starkeyszn @audreyscave @lailasnight @sturns-mermaid @ikyoudreamofme @sturnsmadl @ohmanareyoucereal9 @sossturn @blushsturns @rcklessheavn @55sturn @phone4pills @cupiidk1lls @bsturnzmtts @wh0remikasas @sfoiasturn @trevorsgodmother @bluestriips

MASTERLIST

[tortillamastersblog]

First Date | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: foul language, a shit ton of fluff, and smut (if you squint)

Summary: After recovering and moving to New York to start your new life, you finally take Sam on a first date. . .

Masterlist

_______________________________________________

"How do I look?" | ask, fixing my collar nervously in front of the mirror.

"For the hundredth time, you look great!" Liam exclaims, and I glance at my phone to see him nodding encouragingly on my screen.

I sigh and run my fingers through my hair once again before dropping my arms and turning away from the mirror.

"I feel like I'm going to throw up," | admit, picking up my phone while Liam laughs.

"You're ridiculous. You're not going to throw up. Why are you so nervous anyway? You've been living with Sam for almost three months now."

I shrug on my jacket and crouch down to slip on my shoes. "I don't know! It's just... this is our first real date and I want to impress her." I look at my phone to see Liam's face softening.

"I get that," he says gently, "but there really is no need to be nervous. This is Sam we're talking about.

She loves you so much, she'll be impressed no matter what you do, or where you take her."

"I guess you're right." | take a deep breath and grab my keys.

Sam and I moved in together after I got out of the hospital. At first, I went to live with her and Tara in their old apartment, but since then I got a new job at Liam's company and the apartment that comes with it. 

Tara moved into an apartment of her own with Anika and Mindy.

They live close to campus, while Sam and I live on the upper west side. It's the same building Liam lives in, but he's currently on a business trip in Dallas, hence why he's on the phone with me for moral support rather than being here in person.

Sam is at Tara's, getting ready for our date since Tara, Mindy, and Anika insisted it would be cute if I didn't see Sam all dressed up until I went over to theirs to pick her up.

"Of course I'm right," Liam teased lightheartedly.

"Now go and have fun! I'll talk to you tomorrow." I snort, but smile. "Yeah, yeah. Talk to you tomorrow.

“Bye!"

"Bye!"

I hang up and I take another look at myself in the mirror before squaring my shoulders and leaving the apartment.

I lock the door behind me and take the elevator at the end of the hallway down to the parking garage. It's just as fancy as the rest of the building and it spares me the trouble of finding a parking spot out on the street which is always a nightmare.

The bouquet of red roses I got earlier sits on the passenger seat of the car when I get in and I make sure it’s secure before starting the car and making my way across the city.

It's a surprisingly short drive because for some reason there is barely any traffic. There's also a parking spot right in front of Tara's apartment building which makes my heart skip a beat because I thought l'd have more time to prepare myself for seeing Sam.

I have no idea what she's going to wear, but Tara texted me a couple of minutes ago, telling me I'm going to faint when I see her.

I grab the flowers and hop out of the car, tapping my foot nervously on the elevator ride up to the apartment. I love Sam, and I know she loves me, but after all is said and done, this is still our first date and I want it to go well. 

“Oh hey! You’re right on time!” Anika greets me at the door and even goes so far as to pull me in for a hug. We aren’t exactly close, but ever since I saved her life she’s been extra nice to me. 

“Hey, Anika.” I smile and shift on my feet nervously.

“Babe? Is that Y/N?” Mindy calls out from somewhere in the apartment and Anika shouts back a yes, which makes Mindy appear a moment later with a smirk on her face.

“Hi, Y/N.” She pulls me into a careful hug, making sure not to ruin the flowers. “You look dashing.”

I feel myself blush and avert my eyes momentarily, clearing my throat. “Uh– Thanks, Mindy.”

When I look back up, Mindy’s smirk has turned into a soft smile and she and Anika share a knowing look before ushering me into the apartment and closing the door behind me. 

“Tara and Sam will be right out,” Anika explains, and not even a second later, Tara comes bouncing around the corner.  

“Y/N!” she exclaims happily, however unlike Mindy and Anika she doesn’t close the distance between us to hug me. She simply stops by the corner and smiles brightly, her eyes darting between me and the hallway to her left, which is shielded from my view. 

And then I hear it. The telltale sound of high heels on the hardwood floor.

Sam.

I hold my breath and wait patiently for her to appear,and when she does, I really do feel like fainting. In a regular shirt, she’s already stunning, but right now she’s simply breathtaking. She’s wearing a simple black, one shoulder dress that has a slit running up the length of her thigh and a pair of matching black ankle strap heels. The front of her hair has been tied back, so it’s out of her face while the rest of it flows down her back in soft waves. To tie back the entire look, she’s applied some makeup to highlight her dark eyes, her lipstick a soft red so as to not distract from her eyes.

“Hey,” she says softly with a shy smile on her face.

“H-Hi,” I stutter, unable to take my eyes off her. We’ve not even left the apartment yet and she’s already got me swooning over her. 

Tara, Mindy, and Anika watch us staring at each other, amusement on all of their faces before Mindy clears her throat, prompting me to finally move.

I step further into the apartment and hold out my hand, my knees almost buckling when Sam takes it with a dimpled smile. I notice her nails are painted the same shade of red as her lipstick, and it makes me marvel at just how much thought and effort she’s put into her appearance tonight.

“You look–” Good? Great? Beautiful? No. None of those words describe the way she looks right now. I bite the inside of my cheek, and squeeze her hand before finally settling on, “-- absolutely breathtaking.”

“Thank you.” Sam looks away shyly before meeting my eyes again, this time with a faint blush on her cheeks. “You look amazing, too.”

I snort because I wouldn’t even dare to compare our looks tonight, but I don’t disagree with her. Instead, I bring the bouquet of roses between us and say, “These are for you.”

Her eyes light up and she glances at the roses before looking back at me. “For me?” she asks quietly which makes me chuckle softly and nod. “Thank you.”

She takes them, her cheeks now redder than before and intertwines our fingers. 

“You’re welcome.” I want to kiss her, but I don’t want to smudge her lipstick, so I opt for giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Ready to go?”

Damn. She even smells great. Is that sandalwood? 

Sam nods and I squeeze her hand before turning back around to find Tara, Mindy, and Anika still watching us.

Tara and Anika both look like they’re going to melt, and despite Mindy trying to play it cool, I can also see affection dancing in her eyes. 

“You two are so cute, I love it.”  Anika sighs and takes Mindy’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “Aren’t they cute?” she asks and Mindy just shrugs.

“I guess,” she admits when Anika shoots her a disapproving look which makes all of us chuckle.

“They’re cute and hot,” Tara teases with a smirk. “I mean, honestly guys, you’re like the power couple of all power couples!” 

Sam laughs bashfully and tightens her hold on my hand while I groan. “Sproouuut!”

“What?! It’s true,” Tara insists before her smirk turns into a genuine smile. “I’m so happy for you guys. You deserve this. Enjoy your night.”

My cheeks are still warm, but I smile gratefully and dip my chin in acknowledgement. “Thank you.”

Mindy and Anika wish us a great night too and then we’re off. 

It’s a little cold outside since it’s the beginning of March, so before we exit the building, I stop and take off my jacket, draping it around Sam’s shoulders before leading her the rest of the way to the car.

I make sure to open the door for her, which earns me another shy smile. It makes me feel accomplished and I quickly get into the driver’s seat to start our drive to the restaurant.

So far, so good, I think. 

“Where are you taking me?” Sam asks after some time when I come to a stop at a red light. 

I glance at her before looking back at the road and shrug casually. “It’s a surprise.”

“What? Still?” she whines playfully and out of the corner of my eye I can see her pout. 

I chuckle softly and reach over to squeeze her thigh quickly.  “Mhmm.”

The light turns green and I’m quick to take my hand back to put it back on the gear stick.

Sam huffs, but doesn’t push it. She places her hand on my thigh instead, and takes my phone with her other hand to change the music . 

Her warm touch makes my stomach do flips and for the rest of the drive I rest my hand on top of hers every chance I get.

“Alright, this is it,” I say when I finally pull up next to the high rise the restaurant is in. 

Sam’s jaw drops and she takes in the glass facade of the building with wide eyes. “Are you serious?” she asks and I just smile, getting out of the car and handing my keys to the approaching valet who’s dressed in a sleek black tux.

Then, I round the front of the car and open Sam’s door, offering her a hand when she gets out, which she gratefully accepts. 

“Y/N… What is this? What are we doing here? Is this a joke?” she asks, which makes me laugh softly. She goes to take the roses with her, but I stop her with a tug on her hand. They’d just get in the way in the restaurant, and it’s not like they’re going to wilt if they’re without water for another two hours or so.

“It’s not a joke, Sammy. We’re having dinner here. Well, not here, but in the restaurant on the sixty-eight floor,” I explain, watching her take in the building one more time before her eyes land back on me.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

I pulled a couple of strings to get a reservation tonight, but for her, I’d do anything. Yes, the food will probably be overpriced, and the other customers will probably be snobby and stuck up, but it will all be worth it for the view and the experience. 

“T-this is too much.” She hesitates when I go to lead her into the building, so I turn back around with an encouraging smile, letting go of her hand to wrap my arms around her waist.

She steps closer and I place a kiss on her forehead, making her close her eyes momentarily. “It’s not too much, Sam. I love you, and you deserve the world, so please let me treat you tonight.”

Sam looks at me with uncertainty shining in her eyes, so I place another kiss on her forehead, this time between her eyebrows. 

“Please?” I whisper and after another moment's consideration she nods. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” she says, cupping my cheeks. She leans up to kiss me, still having to do so despite her heels, but I pull back which makes her frown.

“Your lipstick,” I try to explain, but she rolls her eyes and kisses me softly. 

After more than four months of being together, kissing her still sends shockwaves through my body. My cheeks feel like they're on fire where her hands are touching them and my lips tingle when she pulls back, mumbling, “I don’t care,” before pecking my lips once more and pulling away completely.

I stare at her like a love sick fool and smile sheepishly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she replies easily and after making sure her lipstick isn’t all too smudged, we finally make our way into the building and up to the restaurant.

I keep catching Sam glancing at me over her menu, so after the fifth or so time I put mine down and smile at her quizzically. “What?”

She looks around the dimly lit restaurant as if she’s afraid of someone overhearing her before leaning forward in her seat and saying, “This is weird, isn’t it? Why am I so nervous? We live together for God’s sake, and we’ve had dinner before. Not like this, obviously, but still. I mean, how come there are no prices on the menu? Is that normal? Is that how fancy restaurants like this trick you into ordering something super expensive or–?”

I laugh softly and place my hand over hers on the table, effectively cutting her off. “It is a little weird because we’ve never done this before and I’m nervous, too, but let’s not let the fact that we’re on our first official date be the reason why we have a bad time.” I smile  and bring her hand up to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Also, no, the restaurant isn’t trying to trick you into getting something super expensive. You just don’t have the prices on your menu because the waiter gave you what they call a ladies menu.” I grab my own menu and turn it around to show her that I have one with all the prices on it. “It’s weird, I know, and it’s a pretty outdated concept, but it is what it is and I want you to get whatever you want without feeling guilty about the cost, so maybe it’s a good thing.”

Sam presses her lips into a thin line because she still feels bad that I’m willing to spoil her all the time, so I send her a reassuring smile and wiggle my eyebrows suggestively. 

“Come on, live a little, Sammy. What else am I supposed to spend all my inheritance on except you and Tara?”

That makes her crack a smile and after a while we’re ready to order.

While Sam gets the Coq au vin, I order the mushroom risotto, and when the server asks us if we want wine with our food, I decline politely.

A glass of white wine would pair great with my risotto, but Sam can’t drink because of her meds, so I’m not drinking either.

“So,” I say as soon as the server is gone again. “How was your day?”

Sam turns her attention from the brightly lit city outside to me and raises an eyebrow as if asking if I really want to hear about her day when there’s so much more we could be talking about.

I nod encouragingly and take a sip of my water, my entire attention fixed on her despite the stunning view of the city around us.

This is a first date, yes, and people normally don’t talk about their day on a first date, but we’ve known each other forever and I’m simply here to enjoy her company and spoil her.

“Well. . .” Sam goes on to tell me about her relatively stress-free morning at the cafe she works at as a barista before diving into the photography lecture she had this afternoon.

Ever since I got my new job and we moved in together, I’ve managed to convince her not to work full time any more and find something she actually enjoys doing. At first, it took a while for her to figure out what she liked after being in survival mode for so long, but then she discovered her love for photography which is how she ended up enrolling in a couple of community college classes. 

She tells me about a couple of lighting techniques I’ve never heard of and goes on to explain the differences between digital and film cameras.

It’s fascinating, really, how much there is to know about photography, and I keep asking follow up questions which makes Sam’s eyes light up. 

I love listening to her talk, especially about things she’s excited about, but after twenty minutes of non-stop rambling, she asks me to tell her about my day.

“Well,” I start the same way she did while she takes a sip of water, “I went to work until four and then I went to the gym before heading home and getting ready.”

I add some details about a particularly interesting meeting I had before telling her about  a guy who tripped over some dumbbells in the gym, which makes her laugh.

Conversation flows easily after that until we finally get our food which, as expected, tastes absolutely amazing despite its insane price. We share some bites here and there, letting the other try each dish before our table gets cleared and our server hands us some dessert menus.

We’re both more than full, but after some back and forth we decide to order some chocolate souffle to share because neither of us can resist its calling.

In the end, it tastes even better than expected and I tell the server to give our compliments to the chef when he comes back to pick up the empty plate. 

After that, Sam excuses herself to go to the bathroom, and I’m quick to pay the check before she gets back.

“Ready to go?” I ask when she returns to the table which makes her smile and nod.

“Yes, let’s go home.”

I grab my jacket off the back of her chair and help her put it on again before grabbing her hand and leading her out of the restaurant.

Back on the street, the valet has already pulled my car around, so I tip him generously and help Sam into the car before getting in myself and driving off.

“Thank you for tonight,” Sam says after a moment of silence. “I had a lot of fun, and the food was terrific.”

I can’t look at her because I have to focus on the road, but I do smile and dip my chin to acknowledge that I heard her, adding, “You’re very welcome. I’m glad you liked it.”

Letting out a sigh of contentment, Sam places a hand on my thigh and lets silence wash over us while I continue driving us home.

It’s peaceful, and I feel all warm inside, knowing that she enjoyed the night as much as I have, but then her hand on my thigh starts moving upwards which makes my heart skip a beat. 

For a moment I think it might have been unintentional, but then she moves it even higher, and when I risk a glance at her I find her already looking at me with dark eyes.

“Sam. . .” I swallow thickly and shift in my seat, almost letting out a gasp when she starts tracing circles on the inside of my thigh with her thumb.

“Yes?” she asks, feigning innocence.

“D–Don’t do that,” I stutter. “You’re distracting me.”

“I’m not doing anything,” she says calmly and I grit my teeth when her hand moves up even further.

Since getting together we’ve had our fair share of kisses and make out sessions, but we never went further than that. In the beginning it was because of my back and then because we never really had any time for it with me figuring out my new job and Sam readjusting to her new life and finally doing something she likes. Tara being over constantly doesn’t help either, but tonight nothing is holding us back and Sam seems to know that.

I pull into the underground parking garage of our building in record time a couple of minutes later before turning off the car and leaning over the center console to capture Sam’s lips in a searing kiss.

She immediately reciprocates it and wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer and deepening the kiss.

She tastes like the souffle we shared and I can’t help but shiver at the sound of a soft moan slipping past her lips when I trap her lower lip between my teeth.

The position we’re in isn’t comfortable by any means, but we don’t pull apart until we’re both panting, desperate for air.

“Shit,” Sam curses under her breath and when she looks at me I see nothing but desire in her half-lidded eyes.

“Should we take this upstairs?” I ask which makes Sam nod adamantly.

I jump out of the car and hurry to the other side of it to open Sam’s door and help her out.

“Thank you,” she says, still breathless, and before I know it her lips are on mine again as we stumble toward the elevator.

It’s hot and messy, but I can’t get enough of her and when we finally make it to our apartment we waste no time kicking off our shoes and making our way to the bedroom. 

As soon as the door slams shut behind us, Sam pushes me against it, her hands in my hair at the back of my neck to pull me infinitely closer.

My hands are around her waist, grasping at the fabric of her dress while our lips move against each other in a passionate kiss.

Sooner rather than later, much to my dismay, we’re both forced to break apart once again to catch our breath. 

Sam doesn’t seem bothered by it though because her lips find their way to my neck while her hands move down my body until they settle on my hips where her fingers play with the buckle of my belt.

It’s clear what she wants, but I don’t want to go on until she actually says it, so, reluctantly, I pull back so she’s forced to look up at me.

“Wha– Are you okay?” she pants, her lust filled eyes momentarily clouded with concern.

I chuckle breathlessly and tighten my grip around her waist to prevent her from stepping out of our embrace.

“I’m fine,” I assure her, pecking her lips. “But I need to know you’re okay with where this is heading.”

“I’m okay, I want this,” she whispers. She tugs on my belt and stands on her tiptoes to whisper the next part into my ear. “So would you please take my dress off and fuck me already?”

A strangled sound slips past my lips and I pull my head back so fast, I’m surprised I don’t get whiplash because of it. “You– You want me to. . . What?”

Sam smiles mischievously and bites her lower lip, looking up at me through her lashes. “You heard me,” she mumbles, “Fuck me.”

Goddamn.

I swallow harshly, hearing my heart pounding in my ears, but within the next second it’s as if a switch has been flipped in me.

I bend down and lift her up by the back of her legs, making her squeal in surprise before my lips are back on hers.

The position we’re in makes her dress ride up, but she doesn’t seem to care as she wraps her arms around my neck and starts grinding against my stomach.

“Fuck,’” I gasp when she bites my bottom lip and carry her to bed, making her laugh briefly when I unceremoniously dump her onto it so I can get to work on taking off my clothes while she watches.  

Once I’ve discarded all of them, I join her on the bed, making quick work of her dress while she runs her hands over my shoulders and nibbles on my earlobe. 

“I love you,” I whisper a couple of minutes later when she arches her back and moans against my lips.

“I. . . love you, too,” she sobs, her eyes screwed shut while her nails dig into my back and I’m quick to kiss her again to swallow her next moans and whimpers.

The next morning I wake up without Sam by my side, but when I sit up I smile at the smell of pancakes wafting into the bedroom. 

_______________________________________________

And they lived happily ever after!

Hi, everyone! I'm not back for good yet, but I just had to write this because it's been stuck in my head ever since finishing Back To You.

Also, a huge thank you to everyone who was part of creating the Back To You Playlist ❤️ I love you all and words cannot describe how honored I feel.

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23 @idontliketoread2137

* not proofread yet ‘cause I’m lazyyyyy

[fizzing-imagines]

alright my friend, I feel like you would kill this...

soooooooo, think you could write a first date with Steve? :) I don't know maybe like nervous and stuttering babbling mess Steve??? (if you feel like it, ofc)

smooches <3

Blush | Steve Harrington x Reader

Notes: Hi friend!! Thank you for the request. I hope it's what you imagined. Smooches!! <3

Words: 350-ish

Warnings: None

"Hey.", you greeted Steve with a wide grin. His face read nervousness, although he tried his very best to hide it. "Hi.", he replied in a shaky tone. This poor boy was so nervous that he almost dropped the red roses in his hand. "I, uh, got these for you.", Steve stuttered while handing them over. Unfortunately, his nervousness only got worse when he saw your dad peeking around the corner. "Thank you, Steve. I'll put them away and come outside, yeah?" There was a small smile on his lips before you turned to get the flowers into a vase.

"Bye dad!", you yelled through the house before closing the door and walking to Steve's car. "What's your plan?" That's a simple question, but he really stuttered his reply. "I was thinking we could go to Enzos. Well, uh, if that's what you like. I mean, I assumed you like Italian, we can get something else that you like." Steve's face was turning red again. "I'll pay, of, course, but it's really your picking, you know? I wouldn't wanna make you eat something you didn't like." You interrupted him by putting your hand on his. It was a given to you that that would make him go quiet. Quiet and even more red.

"Italian is just fine, Steve. You don't have to worry, okay?", you assured him. Your thumb stroked across the back of his hand. "I'm excited to go out with you, there's no need to be nervous." Your words genuinely calmed him, and after all this stuttering he finally gave you a smile. "Alright, let's go then.", you said.

"Yeah, let's go."

Dinner went great. Steve parked his car down the road from where you lived so you two would have some alone time to talk. "No way that she said that to you!", he excitedly in disbelief while you told him about the mother of a child you babysat. "I swear! And she just wouldn't stop!" A laugh left his lips. "And you still babysit for her?" You shrugged your shoulders and leaned back in the passenger seat. "She pays well, and I like the kid." was your only reasoning. You looked over at him and smiled.

"Today was really nice. Can we do this again?", you asked. Steve leaned back in his seat as well while smiling over. "I'd like that a lot. Maybe tomorrow, and every day after that?" You giggled at his proposal. "Sure, sounds good."

He drove up the street, right to your house, and left the car to open your door. "How charming.", you said with a grin. Both of you shared a hug, but just couldn't let go of one another. "Come on, we're both thinking about it."

Just like that, you leaned into a kiss. And while Steve happily kissed you back, he was left the same way as he was in the beginning; a stuttering, blushing mess.

[berryeemmy]

hello!! can you make a fic for overwhelmedreader! at a party with Rafe? where she's anxious and Rafe reassures that he'll her home while Kelce and Topper tease him. But he still soothes her and takes her home even though she feels guilty!!

you can do whatever this is just a small idea, thank you❤️❤️ i love your blog!

Oh my goodness yes!! I am so happy your like my first real ask!!! I hope you like it! Thank you so much love💕

The music was too loud, the air was too thick with the scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Bodies of people you didn’t even know were pushing and shoving you by accident. All the colors from the lights along with the shouting was just too much for you to handle.

The only reason you even came to this stupid party was because Rafe asked you too. No begged you too. Or maybe it was because, for once, you wanted to fit into his world of adventure and wild parties. But now, standing in the corner with your arms wrapped around yourself tightly while Rafe went to go get a drink with Top and Kelce, you felt like you were suffocating.

Rafe and the guys had been walking back to you from getting another beer in the kitchen, when Rafe saw the familiar look on your face. The look you got when you were overwhelmed. Originally he was laughing with Topper about something funny he said, but once he saw that look. It all came to a halt.

“Hey,” Rafe’s voice cut through the noise, distracting you for a moment. He put his hands on your waist, his touch comforting.

“You okay?” He asks so only you could hear.

You shake your head biting down on your lip softly.

“Baby what’s wrong. You gotta tell me what’s wrong.” He says, his voice softer then ever before.

You swallowed hard, “j-just wanna go h-home..” you whisper on the verge of tears.

Rafe’s expression quickly changed to one of worry.

“Hey hey hey, there’s no need to cry baby its okay, i’ll take you home. My girl just feeling overwhelmed yeah?” He says quickly. He didn’t wanna question it. That was for later.

You nod quickly as a tear falls down you cheek, mascara running along with it.

And that’s when Topper and Kelce decided they want to make their appearance known again.

“Dude, you’re leaving already?” Kelce scoffed.

Topper rolled his eyes and slightly nudged Rafe on the shoulder. “Man you’re pussy whipped.”

Rafe scoffed, just like Kelce. “Leave me alone. My girl tells me she wants to go home we’re going home okay?” He says his voice sharp like a knife. And with that, Rafe’s already guiding you out of the house and into the front yard, where he had parked his truck earlier.

As he opened the door for you to get into the passenger seat, a wave of guilt hits you.

Rafe gets into the driver side, when he notices more tears falling down your face.

“Baby why you still crying huh? Its okay, your safe in the car now.” He says while leaning over to cup your cheek softly.

“I feel bad, you were obviously having a good time a-and i just ruined it.” You sniffle.

“Pretty girl, you didn’t ruin anything. I don’t care about Topper and Kelce, or having fun. I care about you. My baby. Not anything else, mkay?” He says firmly but still somehow gentle.

You couldn’t help but feel relief, like a weight had been taken off your shoulders as he said those words. So you nodded “okay..” you whisper. “I love you.”

“I love you too baby, now lets go home.” He muttered giving you a quick kiss.

[oatmealwrites]

A Night To...Forget? Ch.5

Aizawa x Eidetic memory! Law student! F Reader

Part 4 | Part 6 -> coming soon!

[a night to forget masterlist here]

Synopsis : Keigo is suspiscious when you finally come home but offers words of encouragement for your upcoming date. Classes drone by, some work piles up, but it's finally time for your date with Shōta. Of course you triple check your purse before heading out the door: Phone? Check. Wallet? Check. Apartment Keys...? whoops

Tags : Mentions of hickies, french kissing, only first base -> he's a gentleman, mentions of ogling, both parties flirting, alcohol, situationship? Kiego a hypeman but also an ass, JEALOUS AIZAWA, no established title yet, precursor to nsfw hehe, MDNI, 18+

a/n: this was supposed to include nsfw you guys fucking but the chapter got a bit too long -> i already wrote it though, so I'll post it soon as ch.6!

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

The elevator ride up from the lobby to your apartment is done mindlessly as you walk to your door and turn the key. Recalling the moment of kissing Aizawa over and over again is at the forefront of your mind; your quirk ensuring each detail is in perfect view as the scene unfolds on repeat. 

As you step inside, a dreamy grin on your lips, you barely register the company that’s sitting at the kitchen island watching your every move. Calloused hands remove the cap to a bottle of beer while a blonde eyebrow raises in a mixture of concern and frustration.

“Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to come home.” He takes a sip with a questionable expression as you startle slightly and kick off your work shoes. “What happened to ‘I’ll be up in a few minutes’?”

You ensure the zipper of your winter coat is zipped high under your chin and move to awkwardly shuffle past him to your bedroom while rolling your eyes. He spins on the chair when you don’t offer an actual explanation.

“Your winter coat is still on.”

“Oh– I’m just gonna…. Uh, hang it up?” you stop short and try to nonchalantly keep walking away but his eyes keep you locked in place.

“In your room?” He stands up but remains in the kitchen. “You have a coat closet by the front door.”

There’s a moment of silence; a deaf countdown to when either one of you will move next. Within a fraction of second you both scramble to run: you towards your bedroom door, and him to stand in front of it.

Keigo reaches it at the same time as you, and when you twist to turn the knob he angles further to drive your balance forward. In a moment of the scuffle, your coat collar dips forwards and his height gives him an angled view down the fabric and at your neck.

“OH MY GOD”

In a scramble forward to tug your collar down further, you swat him away and try to avoid his incredulous stare. Keigo surrenders your coat and instead blinks rapidly in excitement and eagerness.

“You guys fucked? When?!... NOW?” He makes a dash for the living room window and swivels his head to examine every corner of the parking lot in a frantic hurry.

In defeat, you walk towards your actual coat closet and shimmy off your parka before hanging it up and meandering over to your kitchen island. Keigo is still frantically searching the parking lot for a sign of Aizawa’s car and shuffles over to the next set of windows for a better view.

His breath is fogging up the glass as he hovers in front. “Where is he?? He's gonna lay pipe with my best friend, and not even walk her up?!”

“Keigo–” you warn curtly, and he takes the cue to come back into the kitchen and slide into the spinning island stool across from you. “Can’t we just eat?” You whine, eyeing the to-go packages and plates all set up.

He shakes his head and leans onto the counter further as you pile your plate with fried chicken wings and a few sides; his gaze is brutal. “Spill. Now.”

You squirm slightly and pick up a fry from your plate; your fingers dip into a sauce container but never bring the food up to your lips. “Well… I don’t really know what it is to be honest–”

“Huhh?? Your neck is covered in bruises!” He points at you with the bone of a wing he had previously finished. 

“It’s complicated.”

You sit feeling torn, a mixture of excitement and frustration at the lack of clarity of everything which just happened. Keigo sits and, for once in his life, remains silent while you work out the sentence on the tip of your tongue. “I had to leave after we kissed… but we did confirm the dinner is a date.”

Keigo claps his hands and is satisfied enough to now continue eating as he congratulates you. “I knew you could do it! On your date, just ask if it’s a casual thing or something exclusive!”

Feeling slightly better, you take a few bites of the food on your plate and work out the logistics of how to bring that topic up. It’s not like you wanted him to commit to something super serious right away, but it would be nice knowing he saw you as something more than a colleague or potential quick fuck. 

Chewing happily and sucking a few crumbs from the fat of his thumb, Keigo reaches over and opens another bottle of beer and slides it across the island to you. He finishes the current skewer between his fingers and places the stick on his plate with an intense gaze before clapping his hands once.

“Alright, now it’s time for the important part.”

You raise an eyebrow and don’t bother to question him, throwing a few sauce covered fries into your mouth as your appetite increases.

He raises his hands up slightly over his plate and keeps them touching at the palms. “Ok, now... Tell me when to stop.”

“Wait, what–”

He slowly begins separating his hands in a form of measurement and you roll your eyes. “Are you ser—”

“Woa, ok so average…” Keigo continues the distance.

“Keigo.”

“Woa, ok– didn’t expect that..”  His hands are around seven inches apart.

“Keigo.”

“OK, now this is just showing off.”

“KEIGO, STOP”

He stops his hands at around nine inches and looks between you and his hands with a shell shocked expression. “Here?! That just looks painful– how are you walking? Let’s restart, ok.”

“Can you just shut up?” You rub your eyes with the back of your hands; mascara slightly flaking off. “We didn’t fuck, ok?”

Keigo looks down at his hands before glancing at his own crotch in thought before resigning to continue his food; his gaze on you is still skeptical. “Ok… so he just sucked your neck like Nosferatu and left? Either impeccable self restraint or a total virg.”

“Can you be helpful for once, please?”

The man across from you laughs and raises his hands once in surrender before he continues eating. “Ok ok. I’ll be serious– though it is good you guys didn’t fuck in the car; the back aches are not worth it.”

You roll your eyes at him and poke your tongue out in disgust. “Ugh, gross.”

Satisfied, you finish your chicken wing and wash it down with the cold beer Keigo had slid you earlier. There’s a comfortable silence as you both finish your meals and he silently takes on the task of putting away the dirty dishes when you leave to change out of your work clothes.

Sweatpants and oversized hoodie on, you rejoin Keigo in the living room as he mindlessly scrolls through a variety of programs in search of something good. Sitting in your usual position next to him, you pivot slightly and hold your phone.

“What do I do now?”

He hums slightly and settles to watch a few moments of a Hallmark romcom before flipping to the next channel. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, do I text him now? Or do I wait for him to reach out first?”

“Ha, you’re so overthinking this.” He laughs slightly before settling on an obviously staged ‘real housewives’ program. 

“It’s not like I can not think about it– the moment is literally seared into my mind forever.”

“Kinky.”

You shove his shoulder and Keigo finally puts down the remote to face you better from his seat. “Ok, just relax alright? If you guys didn’t settle on a title or label, then you’re still just colleagues… and now maybe friends who happen to makeout and go on dates.”

Deflating slightly and opening your phone for the 100th time since you got home, you sink into the sofa cushion when there’s no new notification. “That doesn’t sound like friends…”

“Well, that’s all you got right now”

You purse your lip and stare down at the screen in thought. “If it’s casual then it shouldn’t matter if I send a message right? It’s chill…platonic, right?”

Keigo chuckles but is obviously happy to see you in slightly better spirits as you open your messaging app and pull up Aizawa’s contact. Well, now it’s technically ‘Shōta’ between you both.

To: Aizawa Shōta

Thanks for the ride earlier! I have some classes and externship work this week so my schedule is a bit tight… but I’m excited for our date next week!

You place your phone on the coffee table and sit back on the couch trying to convince yourself that you’re fine. You’re not. Despite attempting to watch two women passive aggressively fight over something menial, you’re glancing down at your phone every few seconds. 

Why isn’t he answering?

Keigo peels his eyes off the screen and notices the way you sit uncomfortably while staring at your phone as if it’s paint drying; with a sigh he stands up and pats your shoulder before walking to the coat closet.

“Alright, I’m heading out. You need to relax.” He tugs on his signature hero jacket and fixes the collar. “Shower, sleep, do school work or something.”

You lean up over the back of the couch and watch as he fixes his boots on and pats down his pockets to ensure he has everything. “I’ll be busy tomorrow, but if you’re up for lunch after your lecture the day after, I can swing by.” He offers while taking out your spare apartment keys.

With an anxious ‘goodbye’, you watch as he opens the door and clicks the lock; when the sound of his boots disappear down the hallway you stand up and head for the shower. 

It’s your usual evening routine of a quick warm shower, skincare, and a few social media scrolls before you’re tucked into bed and setting your morning alarm. The warmth of your comforter is enough to let drowsiness wash you over you and to finally subside the worry that was sitting under your skin for the past few hours.

Heavy eyelids shutting, you’re convinced that none of the things you’ve been worrying about really matter– and that you don’t need the approval of a man to make you happy anyways. 

Ping!

Immediately you throw off the covers and snatch your phone from your nightstand to see who had messaged you as the device pings again.. 

From: Aizawa Shōta

I look forward to it as well.

Please let me know if you work late again, I don’t mind driving you if it means you won’t be walking alone at night. 

Straightforward and chivalrous, despite your bruised neck, his message is permanently memorized into your mind as you read it over a few times. Giddy energy leaves you kicking your feet slightly and a sensation of happiness washes over you; though the time is too late to respond and make it seem like you weren’t waiting by the phone.

Smiling to yourself and preparing to shut the device and sleep, it pings in your hands once again.

From: Aizawa Shōta

It’s also a nice excuse to see you.

~~~~~~

The days leading to the date seem to drag on endlessly as you count down to the night where you ask him what the fuck the two you were and could be. Keigo makes good on his promise and meets you for lunch a few times; his presence is surprisingly helpful as he casually offers advice. 

“I just don’t know what to make of Shōta not mentioning the fact he remembers parts of that night without telling me– he’s totally hiding something.”

Keigo eyes the leftover scraps of food on your plate with begging eyes before he peels them back in shock. “Are you gonna finish– Wait. Shōta?? He’s letting you use his first name?”

You slide your dish to the man and shrug slightly in explanation he had offered you to speak casually. “Can’t you ask Kayama for that video? Toshinori explained she had her phone out all night with the camera open.”

Keigo doesn’t hesitate to finish your food before you can change your mind. “I tried, but she won’t give me it.” He wipes the corner of his mouth with a napkin when you pass him one from the dispenser. “Said she couldn’t show anyone the video ‘cause of some promise.”

You rub your chin in thought for a few moments, reviewing the behavior. “A statute of limitations for a blackmail video between friends is definitely suspicious… someone probably told her not to share it for a good reason.”

“Probably Tsukauchi–” Keigo starts before loudly sipping the last few drops of his drink and sloshing the ice around in the cup. “The stuckups at the police department would probably chew his ass out for having fun.”

It’s a reasonable explanation that you and Keigo agree on before continuing your usual conversations. 

The week also progresses with you taking Shōta up on his offer; his first name foreign on your tongue at first but slowly relaxing into it. You only work late at the office twice, and both times his car sits idling in front of the building with the seat warmer already on and awaiting your arrival. 

Each one gets progressively more casual as you settle into a comfortable rhythm of talking about your days outside of the little snippets you’ve begun texting each other about. It becomes funny class stories, cafes you want to try out, and even movie trailers that seem interesting or potential flops. 

The drives also increase in length, the route he ‘blames his GPS for’ takes additional detours and pathways that make the 20 minute drive turn into 30 and then 35. You don’t mind it though; his company quickly becomes something you crave and grow accustomed to in a way different from that of your friends or Keigo. 

Each time he drops you off also ends in around 20 minutes of sloppy makeouts. 

It starts with a simple smile while his lips linger on yours as you say goodnight but make no effort to leave; his car is always parked in a visitor spot rather than the ‘5-minute passenger drop off’ lane in front of your complex. What starts as a few pecks when you meet at the console ends with his tongue down your throat and the windows fogged from the heat. 

It’s enough to make your lips chapped and swollen for the amount of biting and sucking he does against them. The act is somehow more sexual than the first time despite the fact he leaves no new bruises and manages to reign himself in before you can offer for him to come upstairs. 

The erotic and sensual scene leaves you weak at the knees, your panties a mess, but your head full of frustration as you quickly deduce this was becoming a ‘situationship’ which you had no desire of being. Hell, you would even settle for friends with benefits if it meant some sort of label could be placed on whatever the fuck you two were.

But there wasn’t. Each time you parted for air Shōta would open his mouth to speak before doubling back and having a distant look in his eye as he seemingly talked himself down. It’s obvious he’s pent up and just as curious as you that creates such intense frustration in your bones.

When you hestiate to speak, his lips chase yours and he slithers his tongue inside; when he pauses to contemplate, you tug him by the hair to meet your mouth once more. Chivalrous hands never make an effort to escalate past first-base while he has you pinned against the car door in the hottest makeout you’ve ever been in. 

He hasn’t even undone your blouse buttons yet, but each time you end the ride with such a sloppy and desperate kiss, it leaves you feeling as if he’s already fucked all the air out of your lungs.

~~~~

By the day of the date rolls around, you’re a slighlty nervous wreck as you sit in a lecture on campus.

Class is particularly excruciating this morning; your professor droning on about a proposed memorandum to an act you’ve never even heard of as you snap yourself awake several times. It’s a lecture in which none of your friends are in, and the room is so small you can see the laptop screens of everyone else from your tucked away corner position in the room. 

Online shopping, answering externship emails, and reviewing the menu of the restaurant over and over again is the only way to pass the time until the course wraps up and you’re the first person out of the room. 

It was the final class of the day on your schedule, and walking out of the law building lobby towards the campus gates you spot Jackson in front of a vending machine. Idly choosing between two beverages, you tap his shoulder and shuffle to the opposite side with a grin.

“Ah, you got me.” He turns back to the selection buttons and presses the code for a bottled coffee. “You ready for tonight?”

You lean against the metal and watch as he takes a few long sips of the drink with a grateful sigh at the caffeine. “Ready as I can be, though maybe I’m not ready for after…if he decides it’s something casual.”

Jackson nudges your shoulder and pulls out his cellphone to check his course calendar and mentally plan the easiest route across campus to the art & humanities building for his music elective. “Aw you’ll be fine y/n. If you’re free this weekend I can try and throw a part–”

“–Ha, thanks, but I’ve got to meet with some defense lawyers from the villain case I’m assisting with.”

Jackson nods and offers you a reaffirming pat on the back as he slides on his headphones for the trek across campus. “Alright, alright. But I’m gonna pry every detail out of you during our next study session!”

You smile as he heads off before making your way to the metro station near the school to head home. You’ve got a few hours to get ready before Shōta picks you up for your reservation at 7; Keigo has already offered to be at your apartment at around 5 to help you get ready.

Of course ‘helping you get ready’ is more of an excuse to get out of work early and eat the food in your house while watching reality TV. Music plays on your phone as you finish up the last few steps of a long ‘everything shower’ and Keigo whines against the bathroom door as you take your time.

Steam fogs the mirror and when you click open the lock of the door, he immediately shuffles in while pushing you out of the way. “Damn woman, how long do you need to shower?”

He doesn’t wait for you to leave as he lifts the lid of the toilet seat and haphazardly undoes the fly of his jeans to take a piss. You roll your eyes and grimace while stepping out and examining the damage to your living room. Throw pillows on the floor, your stashed bags of chips empty and thrown about, and a few cans of soft drinks litter the coffee table.

“Seriously Keigo?” you yell back to him while shuffling into your bedroom.

The toilet flushes and Keigo sighs slightly before washing his hands. “I’ll buy you more.”

Lotion and body oil on, hair dried and falling casually; you sit on the floor, still wearing your bathrobe in front of your mirror. It’s a giddy feeling to do your skincare; the feeling intensifies once it’s absorbed and you start on your makeup. The look is casual face products with your eyes being a bit smokier with a few touches of under eyeliner. 

Makeup completed, you move to your closet to grab the dress you had already decided on wearing several nights ago and toss it onto your bed. It’s a simple formula you’ve worked out given the amount of Google Maps photos you’ve stared at in order to get an idea of the restaurant vibe.

A black off the shoulder long-sleeve mini dress, black opaque tights, and slight heeled boots are the aspects of the outfit. Every friend you’ve sent an image to has approved, and stepping out of your robe and into the garments leaves you feeling confident despite the nerves building. If the date were to end in the worst possible way, at least you would look hot in the process.

You toss your robe over your door to dry and step into the living room while digging through your purse when Keigo briefly looks up from his position in front of the TV and nearly drops his freshly opened beer bottle onto himself. 

“Oh, hey you done– woa.”

He shamelessly stares and sits upright, placing his drink on the coffee table as you smile and do a little spin. “Sooo, how do I look? I clean up nice, right?”

Keigo opens his mouth and shuts it a few times as he takes in the image in front of him. “Yea I mean…shit you look…yea–”

You laugh and walk further into the living room. “Perfect, that’s the reaction I was going for.”

He admires your figure a moment more before looking up to meet your eyes. “You and Aizawa are friends, who get to makeout while you wear that? Remind me why I never got this perk in our friendship?”

You take a pillow from the loveseat and throw it at him; he catches it with a laugh and before you can scold him a notification pings on your phone. 

From: Aizawa Shōta:

After-class training wrapped up sooner than expected. I’ll be there shortly.

SHIT

Keigo sits upright on the couch to tease again before you nearly patch out to dig through your purse and run to the kitchen. “Keigo, where did you put my–?”

He hops up and runs into the kitchen ahead of you, signaling to the counter. “Two tequila shots already prepared for us.” A coy smile on his lips. 

You pull out your chapstick with a grateful sigh and slide it back inside your bag. “I wasn’t gonna say that, but… ok”

Keigo holds his smirk and slides you a glass; no salt or limes prepared, though you’re not picky given the time crunch. Grateful for the liquid courage, you down the shot with a wince and look at the glass bottle on the counter. 

“Another?”

Keigo laughs and picks up both empty shot glasses and puts them in the sink. “Uh, maybe not the best idea considering the last time we had tequila.”

You nod with a pause; if Keigo was the one telling you to lay back, it must be pretty serious. “Ok ok fine– I’m just nervous~”

Keigo peers over from his spot at the sink and splashes his fingers at you while mocking your whining pitch. 

You flip him off and scurry backwards away from his hands. “Ugh, asshole! I’m gonna have a heart attack here– how am I supposed to face him?”

He wipes his hands down on your old kitchen towel and leans against the counter with his hip. “Like I said earlier– he’s a guy.” Keigo points up and down to your outfit. “And you… look like that.– trust me, he’ll be just as nervous and into you, as you are to him.”

A slight blush on your cheeks from his compliment, you shrug humbly and pull the hem of your dress down slightly. “Yea but, I like him. Of course I want him to think I look good.. But I also want him to actually like me.”

You watch the way he gives you an earnest smile and drags his eyes up and down one last time before glancing the other way with a slight cough. His voice is lower and slow. “You’re fine, y/n. He’s seen you plenty of times in your work clothes and now even your bummy hangover outfit–and he still proposed coffee and this date.”

He places a supportive pat to your head and walks around to open your fridge in search of anything else that catches his eye. You rummage through your purse and confirm a triple check of everything inside: chapstick, mints, wallet, phone, lip gloss. A mental headcount of how many hours until your deodorant runs off, a ping from your phone makes your heart beat cold. 

From: Aizawa Shōta

I’m outside; no rush if you aren’t ready yet.

..SHIT.

Keigo watches with an amused glint in his eyes as you fluff your hair and breathe out to calm yourself a few times; he takes a few strides to push you towards the door. “Alright, go ‘em tiger.”

“W-wait! Maybe I should brush my teeth again! O-or I think I’m coming down with a fever, I should cance–” Pushing you into the hallway, Keigo blocks the doorframe to prevent letting you scramble back in. “Deep breaths, act natural, and fuck already!”

The door shuts in your face and the lock clicks into place– ah. Keys… you don’t have your keys.

“But my–”

“Text me when you're on your way back and I'll leave it unlocked” He yells through the door. “But if I fall asleep… you’ll have to find somewhere else to spend the night.”

You can practically see his shit-eating grin through the door as he cackles. What have you gotten yourself into?

Mindlessly walking to the elevator as your heart rate spikes to nearly 200 bpm, you pick apart your appearance in the reflective walls of the elevator over and over again. All the hickies have disappeared and you adjust the way your hair falls once again before the doors open with a ‘ping’.

The lobby is colder than you expect, and walking up to the entrance doors you debate running back upstairs and banging on the door to beg Keigo to toss you a jacket. It’s too late though– you spot the familiar black sedan idling in the passenger pick-up zone and watch the way Shōta opens the driver door to stand up. 

It’s happening. This is really happening.

A breath to calm yourself, you push the front door open and step out into the cold. He shuts his own door and looks up to walk over to the passenger side to get your door, pausing when he fully takes in the sight in front of him. 

A blush on your cheeks mirror the one on him. His stance falters slightly at the image of you walking over, trying desperately to avoid ogling too much.

Shōta is dressed in black slacks, a pale blue button up with the top button undone, and a matching black blazer. His long dark hair is styled into a half-bun and his face is cleanly shaven once again; he looks like a dream as you approach the passenger side.

You wave slightly once you get close and flash a nervous smile on your glossy lips. “Hi.”

“...oh! Uh, Hi.” He stutters out once he realizes he’s taking too long to answer. 

Shōta’s eyes never leave you, even after you slide into the seat and he shuts the door for you. The seat warmer is on full blast and his car is impeccably clean; scents of his woodsy cologne fill the air and the excitement in your veins begins to bubble. It’s really happening.

He sits back in the driver’s seat behind the wheel and clicks his seatbelt into place before offering you a nervous half-smile and putting the car in ‘drive’. The buildings begin to pass as the radio station plays a soft jazz in the background.

“You look really nice. Well, you always do but uh–”

“Thanks, Aiz–” you pause to correct yourself. “Shōta. You look really handsome yourself.”

The man glances at you from his peripherals and slides the nail of his finger over the skin of another in an effort to wake himself up if he were dreaming. He accepts your compliment and turns back to the road with a long exhale.

Sitting with your hands in your lap and trying to busy yourself with staring at the scenery, you make an attempt to bring up similar conversation you two would typically have.

“So, how were classes today? Anything crazy happen?”

A gruff exhale as he smoothly turns the car down another street. “Well, if the baseline of normality is one student trying to kill another for simply offering help…I’d say it was pretty normal.”

You chuckle and lean into the seat; the warmth coming from the leather provides some comfort. “Mmmm, I’ve heard a few stories from Toshinori about how rowdy they can be.”

Shōta continues explaining today’s training and how his students were progressing; obviously proud of them despite his tendency to state the opposite. You sit and listen, silently taking in the different atmosphere of this drive than the ones you’ve previously shared.

It felt real. More official and raw than your previous times; the vulnerability noticeable in his body language. Despite having his tongue down your throat on more than one occasion, his hands sit politely at 10 and 2, only ever leaving to adjust the volume or the mirrors. 

Fiddling with the hemline of your dress and looking out the window slightly, you miss the way his eyes dip down to the flesh of your thighs where the fabric ends; he swallows thickly and peels his gaze back to the road. 

“And how was your day? You had classes as well, correct?”

“Oh, it was the usual, nothing too interesting…”

He tilts his head and drags his eyes to meet yours. “It’s interesting to me though.”

Damn he’s smooth.

You’re convinced he’s not even trying to be suave; his gaze is slightly hooded but his tone is deep and honest. A blush on your cheeks, you sink slightly into the seat. “W-Well, I had a morning lecture, bumped into a friend, and did a few tasks for my mentor remotely from my apartment. It’s not nearly as exciting as your life I’m sure.”

Shōta frowns slightly and presses further. “Mmm, did you do anything while at your apartment though? I’m sure you had a few breaks.”

“Ha, actually there’s this stupid reality show Keigo got me hooked on– the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.” Memories of the program come flooding back.

This time Shōta doesn’t react when you mention the man’s name, instead he tilts his head and takes in the image of you in his car once again. “Sounds interesting. Maybe…you can show it to me sometime?”

“Agh, this season is so dramatic too–” you ramble slightly, agreeing but not registering he had inadvertently offered an unofficial second date to be more intimate and private.

The drive to the restaurant is filled with you explaining various drama between ridiculously wealthy women, and while Shōta has no interest in petty celebrity arguments, he greatly enjoys listening to you speak. You’ve basically given him a run down of the first few seasons, hyperbolizing the intensity of the show with drastic hand movements by the time you arrive at the restaurant. 

“It’s such a dumb show– I’m sure it’s staged. Oh! But this one episode–”

The passenger door clicks open as a young valet pulls it back and offers you a hand; blinking slightly in shock, you turn to Shōta who chuckles a few times and steps out. You slide your purse on your shoulder and take the hand, walking back from the car and watching the way your date passes the keys to the employee. 

Guiding you by the lower back, Shōta ushers you inside the restaurant and leaves your side to explain the reservation to the hostess. 

It’s hot. He’s hot.

The way he acts as a total gentleman, and guides you to follow the employee to the table and pull your chair out for you. It’s a fancy restaurant, but not inherently romantic. A few families sit eating, there’s a group of people in work attire for a business dinner, and a handful of friends and couples are scattered at the other tables. 

The lights are dim, but not too dark, and there’s a comfortable background chatter as music plays gently in the background. As you take in the view, silently comparing it to the online reviews for the ambience, you take in the way Shōta sits across from you; shoulders are tight and his spine is arched to a perfect posture as he sits stiffly behind his menu.

“This place is really nice. Thanks for recommending it.”

He peers up and relaxes slightly. “Really?”

“Mhm. It smells really good, and the vibe is relaxing.”

Shōta smiles to himself and places the menu lower; his anxiety slowly melting away as you begin to review the menu as if you haven’t preplanned your meal days in advance. After a few moments of small talk about the dishes, a waitress walks up and offers a trained customer-service smile.

“Hi there, I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Can I bring you anything to drink? Maybe a bottle of red?”

Shōta gauges your pause and responds on your behalf. “Sure. Is there a house recommendation?” 

“I can bring a bottle of Shiraz for you to sample.”

“That’d be perfect.”

The waitress disappears as quickly as she arrived and Shōta nudges your foot from under the table with a slight smile. “I take it you don’t know much about wine.”

You shrug slightly in defense. “They taste so similar anyways. I only buy for two reasons: it’s on sale, or if I'm on a da–” you pause. He looks at you expectantly and you take a breath. “Unless I’m on a date.”

Shōta looks up with an amused smile, obviously feeling at ease. “Ah, that’s nice to know. Maybe in the future we can expand your palate?”

Face flushing you nod and feel yourself settling into the moment. “I didn’t take you for a sommelier.”

“I’m not– and I’m not the biggest drinker either… just a few years of fancy dinners for some pointless higher ups has left me with a bit of knowledge.”

You smile and when the waitress returns with a bottle to taste which Shōta approves of, you order your meals and enjoy the complimentary bread while sipping on wine.

“Sooo, you take all your dates here then?” You giggle, the flush of the alcohol making you both a bit looser. 

He scoffs and takes a sip. “Ha, I actually found this place from Hizashi, or uh, Yamada.” 

You nod, recognizing the blonde man’s first name and bring your glass to your lips again. “Ah, hopefully he won’t think I’m taking his spot.”

Shōta rolls his eyes but holds an amused expression, the evening no longer feeling awkward or forced; instead, ridiculously easy in each other’s company. Your phone pings several times throughout the evening, most likely check-ins from Keigo, and each one you ignore– too wrapped in your company to even think about looking away. 

The waitress returns with your meals and offers if you would like a second bottle; the fact you two had already killed one is a surprise. Accepting the offer, you ‘oo’ over the amazing taste and find yourself getting comfortably warm as your glass is always filled. 

“To be honest, he had talked my ear off about this for a while.” Shōta explains, a pink tinge from the wine making his lip looser than usual.

“Hm? What do you mean?” 

“Well, I mean this.” He gestures to you both. “He had been talking nonstop about finally taking you on a date.”

It’s not a huge confession, but it makes your heart swell slightly as Shōta continues eating, unaware of the exact implications of his words. You lean over the table slightly, feeling a bit flirty. “Yea, but didn’t I propose we come here when we had gotten coffee last week?”

He leans in slightly, “Yea but I was the one that brought it up last Fri–” He pauses and rushes backward to sip awkwardly on his wine. 

Before you can press further, eagerly wanting for him to divulge a bit more, the waitress returns to offer the dessert menu.

You’re definitely a bit tipsy, though Shōta seems to hold his alcohol much better than you regardless; she leaves to give you both a few minutes. 

“Do you need time to sober up at all? We can order dessert.” You offer while glancing through the list of pastries and gelatos listed. Taking a moment to feel just how warm your face was feeling, you spin the bottle of wine on the table around and gulp when your eyes linger on the alcohol percentage of 17%.

Oh shit. How many glasses has it been…?

You knock your elbow back slightly and the purse hanging on your chair falls to the floor; on instinct you lean down to pick it up. Of course you don’t even realize the perfect view down your dress it gives your company. Tits basically pouring out as you pucker your lips in effort to reach the strap, Shōta’s Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows while blatantly staring. 

He coughs slightly, now staring at your lips as you return to your upright position. “I’m feeling warm, but definitely a good idea to wait a bit. I don’t mind eating something sweet either.”

You don’t look up– too  absorbed in now scanning over the dessert list once again. “Oh really? Do you have an idea in mind?”

“Yea, I do.”

Eyes looking up in curiosity, Shōta snaps out of his trance and frantically searches the now nearly empty restaurant for something, anything to save himself. “The… uhhh… tiramisu? Is really good.”

You both settle on ordering it and the waitress clears the table except for the remaining wine and your glasses; by this point he’s not exactly slick at the glances he makes and you’re feeling maybe too bold considering your current blood alcohol content. 

His second button now sluttily undone as he continues explaining his current hero training schedule for upcoming class events, you flutter your lashes at him and bring your hand up for your chin to rest on. It seems like you’re just super interested in his current routine; in reality you’re using the flesh of your bicep and forearm to smush your tits together a bit more while they partially raise above the already low neckline. 

And as much as Shōta is a gentleman, Keigo is certainly correct that at the end of the day, he’s still just a man. Eyes dart down to your cleavage before peeling them back up in an attempt to be respectful before he glances back down again. 

You swirl the wine in your glass with your free hand and pause to set your spoon on a now empty dish of dessert; Shōta’s years of staring at villains leaves him unblinking across from you, taking in every move. The bottle of wine is empty, and when his story comes to an end, you notice the now quiet atmosphere of the restaurant. 

Most tables are empty, and the waitstaff sits in the back organizing silverware and glasses in preparation to close. You peel your gaze back to the man across from you and offer a sheepish grin at your realization that you had been here for several hours.

Shōta’s long empty glass is pushed away from the edge of the table as he stands up and adjusts his blazer; taking out your phone and standing as well, you notice the time of 10:45 and several missed calls from Keigo. A few texts from him are full of encouragement while your eyes linger on the most recent one.

From: Keigo ;p

Heading out of your apt.

I forgot to leave it unlocked... oops!

Shōta takes a few steps to stand at your side as you slide your phone back in your purse and try to think of a way back into your apartment. You still had no keys to get back home…

“Are you ready to go, y/n?”

You spin and adjust the strap of your purse on your shoulder and awkwardly let out a forced casual exhale. “Hm? Oh, yea.. Totally. But, don’t we have to pay?”

Shōta guides you back towards the front doors and gives a small nod to your waitress as she brings a tray of fresh glasses from the kitchen to the bar. “Already did. I just had them use the card I kept on file for the reservation to pay for the meal.”

“Wait–” You turn to him but continue his guidance to the exit. “You really gave me no chance to try and pay, huh?”

“Mhm.”

You laugh at his traditional chivalry and lightly nudge him while the valet runs out to retrieve the car. Shōta makes no effort to stand firm, letting himself be swayed by your small push and leaning right back to remain steadfast at your side. 

Sliding into the passenger seat and grinning when he shuts the door for you, a quick panic ensues within your mind. It’s plausible that Kiego might be able to come back and give you his spare keys… but maybe Jackson would let you crash on his couch? Sleeping in makeup and without pajamas was not the most appealing, but it’s better than sleeping in front of your door until morning when maintenance could let you in.

“Are you alright?” Shōta looks at you as he slides his seatbelt into place and adjusts his rearview mirror.

“Hm? Oh, y-yea…”

He isn’t convinced and keeps his gaze intently on you; the look is so serious that you wonder if he’s stone cold sober for a moment. “Listen, if you’re thinking of a nice way to say you aren't interested in a second date… that’s fine. You can just say it now, it won’t–”

“Wait.” You raise your hands and wave them. “No! I’m not thinking about that at all. I’d love to go on another date in all honesty.”

Shōta pauses and lets out a sigh of relief. “Oh thank God. Ok, that’s a nice reassurance… but why are you looking nervous like that?”

He doubles back on his words when you slide down the visor and flip open the attached mirror to examine your makeup for a moment. With a pathetic chuckle as he slowly pulls out of the parking lot, you take a few deep breaths in attempt to figure out the most casual way of stating you had nowhere to stay for the night.

“I just…I might be–” You start and trail off; Shōta gives you a patient look with some concern. “I am locked out of my apartment.”

There’s a beat of silence and Shōta opens his mouth once before his face slightly contorts in a thought process of how you would have managed that. He slows down and pulls into a parallel spot with ease to allow other cars to pass.

“Can I ask how you managed that? You can’t just forget your keys, right?”

You sink into the seat in embarrassment and fiddle your thumbs sheepishly. “No, that wouldn’t usually be possible. It’s just that...I did have a list of things to put in my purse…and my keys didn’t happen to be on said list.”

He chuckles beside you and raises an eyebrow. “Ok, I’ll bite. What was on the list that was more important than your house keys?”

You purse your lips and look up guiltily at him. “Phone, wallet, chapstick…” He leans down a bit further when you pause. “... mints and my lipgloss. That’s it.”

Shōta chuckles heartily when you complete the packing list and offer him an apologetic smile. “Mmm, those do sound very important.”

“Ugh.. don’t rub it in.” 

You sink down a bit further at his sarcasm until he pauses to look genuinely at your face; the warm city lights illuminating the shine of your hair and lips. His gaze darts down to the hemline of your dress that hugs the upper portion of your thighs before dragging his eyes to the plump swell of your breasts that sit nearly pouring out of the top. 

 He coughs slightly and looks back at the digital clock on the car radio. “What’s your plan then?”

Taking your phone out of your purse and sending another message to Keigo, you note that he hasn’t sent a message in 90 minutes, and sigh slightly. “I can see if my law school friend is awake… or I can always wait in the lobby of my apartment until maintenance comes in at 7am.”

“No way, you’re not just going to sit in your lobby alone for hours on end. Does anyone have a spare key?”

You fiddle with your thumbs again and look down. “He’s not answering…”

Any resolve or self restraint that Shōta had been holding in is now completely drained. You don’t even need to say the name to know you’re talking about Keigo. Shōta knew you two were close friends– a camaraderie similar to nearly that of siblings, but that didn’t stop the ugly and vile envy that always coursed through his veins whenever the name was mentioned.

It was childish to feel jealous of a friend who you firmly trusted, and the mentor to one of his own student’s internship, but Shōta couldn’t help it. ‘Keigo this’, ‘Keigo that’; it was half of the topics you happened to ever talk about. The way you two were physically comfortable also rubbed Shōta the wrong way– though none of it was inherently romantic or sexual, it still made the older man insecure. 

That night, Friday night, had been a tipping point. You came into the bar with him, and had a few drinks before even walking over to the table of your expecting company. Being forced to watch the way Keigo wiped your mouth was too much, and before he could stop himself, Shōta had used erasure on the man. 

It didn’t do anything, other than make Keigo feel slightly uncomfortable, but it was enough for the table to laugh and ridicule Shōta for acting so brazenly. Now sitting here, with you in his passenger seat, texting a man who wasn’t even bothering to respond, was once again Shōta’s tipping point.

The words fall off the tongue with urgency, desperate for you to know you could depend on him to be there for you; to always respond to your texts and calls if you sent any. Shōta can’t even blame the alcohol, himself a relative heavyweight anyways, and he’s not sure there’s anything to blame the sentence on besides the facts he’s just a man trying to make a move on the most beautiful girl he’s ever had the privilege of knowing.

“You can stay with me tonight, if you want.” 

a/n: I KNOW ITS BEEN FOREVER i'm sorrryyy

[I've been traveling a lot on the weekends so I haven't had much time to sit and write -> i'm staying local the next two weeks so i'll be grinding it out i promise]

ALSO: this was supposed to include you staying the night but it got too long so I have to post it as a ch.6 [it's gonna be a loooong night let's just say that ;) ] -> i have it written tho so i'm just gonna wait a few days to post it

i love all your support on this series, it's been so much fun to write it!

likes/comments/reblogs all appreciated and i luv reading all ur comments

LMK if u wanna join the tag list

<3 - oatmeal

tags: @idkidk32 @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @aizawasbaeee @smashley351 @beachaddict48 @lynnesm @lashaemorow @kriscr0ss @hotvillianapologist @loverofdeepspace

[aceofwhump]

hope youre doing well!

just wanted to let you know that i started binging ted lasso the other day after going through your blog for recs on something to watch (as i do, often) and i ADORE it, so thank you!!

i just watched the episode where jamie’s dad is abusive to him in front of the entire team and i have to say that it’s some of the best emotional whump ive seen in a WHILE omg. rewatched that scene so many times,,,,

while im here ill ask if you happen to have any fav jamie fic recs? no pressure though if you cant think of any specific ones, ill likely go through the entire tag on ao3 lol

Hi! I am doing all right thanks! Hope you're well too!

Omg yay!! Ted Lasso is so good!!! I'm so glad you're watching it! Ugh that episode is one of my favorites! The emotions just kill me. I love Jamie Tartt so much. I too watched that scene on a loop. So good.

Oooooh yes I have recs for you my friend! Many! Go forth and enjoy!

the early arrival of a fragile spring by mballyntyne Summary: Coach, I’m me, he had said once, why would I want to be anything else? OR Jamie gets concussed, his dad is a terrible person, there are far too many references to sad disney films, and the sun finally begins to shine.

Emergency Contact by relevanceisoverrated Summary: When Jamie ends up in the hospital after an accident, the hospital has to call his emergency contact, Ted.

The calm before the literal and figurative storm by Multifandom_damnation Summary: They lose to Man City, but they might lose a lot more than a game that day

Barn Raising by altschmerzes  Summary: After the locker room disaster in Manchester, Roy drives Jamie home. The chaos they find when they arrive at the house swiftly proves it is not a safe place to spend the night, forcing a change of plans and a reroute to Roy’s own home. The following day Jamie experiences, in this order: The most bewildering breakfast of his life, a penalty kick clinic with a seven-year-old, and an overwhelming display from his teammates that brings him face to face with the fact that not only has he been accepted back in Richmond it’s also possible he might be, in a way he can’t remotely process or understand, loved here.

Scaffolding by altschmerzes Summary: Jamie collapses at training the day before an away game far from home, running a fever, and somehow this ends up being Roy's problem. And Ted's, when he persuades Roy to take it in shifts. It's both of their problem, though it's a problem for them in different ways. Ted struggles to keep the feeling of being helpless from sending him too deep into his own head to stay where he's needed. His experience as a parent both helps and doesn't. As for Roy, hating Jamie was a lot simpler than caring about him is. Taking care of him? Roy doesn't have a clue where he got the idea he was competent enough to do that. Especially when it feels like all he does is mess it up.

The Same Story by altschmerzes Summary: “So,” Trent starts, keeping his voice mild and professional. “We have all, by now, seen the footage from the unfortunate run-in you had with your father, the night of the twenty-fifth of April in the car park at Coventry City FC’s pitch.” It would've been traumatic enough for Jamie's father to ruin Richmond's most recent victory in front of the whole team, but when the confrontation turns violent in front of a gaggle of reporters, the ensuing social media firestorm is even worse. Over the next two and a half weeks, Jamie will have to navigate the charges against his father, walk a gauntlet of publicity that he never asked for, and prepare to give the interview of a lifetime. Luckily, Richmond has always been there to catch him on the other side.

Better Angels by altschmerzes Summary: The second time that Jamie shows up, smirking and announcing that he can't participate in training because he's hurt is so much worse than the first time. He's changed a lot, grown up a lot, and no one knows why he's acting like this again when he's put so much time and effort into not being that person anymore. It feels like history is repeating itself, except… something isn't adding up. Sam is the one who puts it together, who sees the proof that Jamie very much is hurt, and has led everyone to believe that he isn't by telling them that he is in a way that sounded like an obvious lie. It makes his head spin, and he doesn't know what to do. Thankfully, his team captain and his coaches are there to figure it out. (Hypothetical season 3 timeline. Completely gen. Jamie is hurt in an accident. He doesn't handle it well.)

Something to be said by macaronicism Summary: First day back in training after what happened at Wembley is awkward, but everyone tries their best.

for speaking through walls by LadyCharity  Summary: When an incident in the match against West Ham leads to a threat to Jamie's well-being, Ted comes face-to-face with what he dreads the most. In which Jamie haunts Ted just as much as the dead.

don't let it in with no intention to keep it by jamietxrtt Summary: "Glass shatters to Jamie’s left, missing the front door by centimeters. He ignores it and ducks out into the cloudy London night, the cold night air raising the hairs on his bare arms. No time to hesitate and grab a jacket now, though, not with the suffocating smell of beer smoking him out of his own house."

it's such a long road when you go it alone by themightyduck Summary: Jamie goes down hard during the last match of the season and struggles to determine his worth outside football. Ted would like to stop seeing his boys get hurt on the field. Roy seeks to become emotionally well-adjusted and possibly even Jamie's close friend.

On Pure Instinct by Dandelion_Orange_Pips Summary:

Jamie was standing rigidly and staring at Ted’s hand in abject horror, unblinking. Then rose his gaze to meet Ted’s, tears now uncontrolled. The world seemed to come to a stop and Ted couldn't breathe. One wrong move.

Ted raised his hands, placating.

Then Jamie’s eyes snapped rapidly to his hand and back, becoming even wider. Ted froze.

“Jamie-”

Jamie ran.

Or: Ted tries his best to keep Jamie together after a tough game. He fails, but maybe it's for the best.

The Invalidated Silent Screams Of The Tormented by Cuppa_Char Summary: When a blast from the past unsettles Jamie it leads to a very public meltdown.

Somehow Everything Will Be Okay by Lilac_Lemonade Summary: What happened once the match against Richmond was over and Jamie's dad pulled him aside? Ted walked away after seeing him with his dad in the treatment room and Jamie thought that was it, just one more person on the list of people that had abandoned him. But what if Ted came back? What if Ted was the one to give Jamie the letter after Richmond's match against Man City?

mind games by sweetsorrowss Summary: jamie tartt is tired of being toyed with. he's tired of being manipulated. he's tired of people pretending that they care. when his father pays him a surprise and unwelcome visit, jamie finds solace in the one person he's convinced himself is pretending the most. but ted lasso isn't pretending, and maybe jamie deserves a place to call home after all.

Thick and Thin and Every Line by LivingProof Summary: In the aftermath of the match against Manchester City, Ted, Roy, and Jamie struggle with demons shared and separate. Then Beard’s here, then his dad is gone, just the gunshot crack of the door to herald their departure. He’d wince at the sound, but his muscles have turned to lead. And Jamie’s here, the only person in this room, the spotlight on him casting everyone else in shadow. He knows they’re out there somewhere, audience to a Greek fucking tragedy, and maybe when this is over they’ll realize they should be applauding.

Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation by jumpfall Summary: What Ted remembers later is Beard saying, "Jamie's not putting any weight on it."

To Being Better by vxctorsfvlix Summary: Jamie-centric rewrite of the Ola's Restaurant scene in 3.03, featuring more hurt and also more comfort. Jamie's been struggling with the arrival of Zava, and how it's affecting his relationships with the team. Things come to a head on the opening night of Sam's restaurant.

for what you have tamed by LadyCharity Summary: "Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox. "But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed." In which Ted and Jamie are tamed by their fathers, their traumas, and each other.

according to the calculations by telm_393 Summary: After everything, Jamie’s not alone.

an excess of warmth or coldness by bartonbones Summary: When Jamie is seriously injured during a match, Roy and Ted are reminded how much they care about him--as a son, or as a younger brother, or as an exposed nerve. Jamie is reminded what it's like to have people care when his face gets knocked in.

Wings Wouldn't Help You Down by ViolentlyRed Summary: He thought the most awkward thing he'd have to endure was a rigid Roy Kent embrace in the Man City locker room months ago. He was wrong. And he’s getting better at admitting when he’s wrong, so. Turning up on Coach's doorstep at two thirty in the morning was infinitely, infinitely more awkward. Or, Jamie's hurt and not about to say much about it, and Ted's a good coach.

Haunted by WinterAndMissHyde Summary: Isaac and Colin lock Jamie in a storage room at Nelson Road as part of a "harmless" joke. This brings Jamie a lot of bad memories back he'd rather forget and leads him to a panic attack. He also dislocates his shoulder trying to get out. Ted, Sam and Dani are there to comfort him in the aftermath. Set after Jamie comes back to Richmond on season 2.

the early arrival of a fragile spring by mballyntyne Summary: Coach, I’m me, he had said once, why would I want to be anything else? OR Jamie gets concussed, his dad is a terrible person, there are far too many references to sad disney films, and the sun finally begins to shine.

[nowayimbored]

Restless Man

Summary: After 13 years of no contact, Sam comes knocking at your door when you least expect him.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

WC: 2,200

The leaves crunched beneath your shoulders, flattening the grass underneath. The wind jostled the trees above you, leaves floating down, down, down, until they slowly landed around you. The sun was slowly setting, golden hour quickly approaching. The autumn air was crisp and had a bit of a bite to it, but you didn’t mind. Watching the sky change colors, from blue to orange, pink, purple, and red was your favorite thing. 

Sam Winchester was your second favorite thing. You met a long time ago, almost another lifetime it seemed like. He had crashed into your life like a comet, but you had to admit he had perfect timing. You had just lost both of your parents in a car accident. Sam could commiserate with you, his brother had… well, he didn’t say. He just said he was ‘gone’, leading you to believe he was dead, or maybe missing. But he never looked for him. You tried not to dwell on it too much, as Sam never spoke much about him unless he was borderline blackout drunk. 

Sam became your best friend quickly, moving into your spare bedroom soon after you met. Things were mostly platonic, however there was a few times where the lines got a little blurry. You didn’t mind, though, you quite enjoyed it actually. In that year together, you two had grown very close. He would tell you stories that seemed farfetched, but he always retold them soberingly genuine. Stories of monsters, of a huge road trip he was on with his brother, of the end of the world…almost. They just about felt real.

You told your own stories, which were definitely very real. You told him of your family, your past, all of your wishes and hopes for your future. That was the best year of your life. It was so easy, so natural, with Sam. 

The morning he left was like any other that the two of you shared, or so it seemed. Sam would typically run a mile or two right as the sun was rising before hitting the shower, which would be just about the time you’d be getting up. That fateful morning, though, it was quieter. There was no hum of the water pipes, no bare feet padding down the stairs toward the kitchen. At first you thought he had taken a longer run than normal, but in the middle of making breakfast for the two of you, you saw the note.

‘Hey,

I don’t even know how to start this. I’ve been sitting here, staring at the page, trying to find the right words, but nothing feels right. Maybe because there isn’t a right way to say this.  I have to go. And I can’t tell you why. Not because I don’t trust you—I do. More than anyone. But because if I say too much, it could put you in danger. And that’s the last thing I’d ever want.  This past year, you’ve been my rock. You reminded me that there’s more to life than just living out on the road, more than just loss. You gave me something I haven’t had in a long time—peace. And walking away from that? From you? It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I need you to know this isn’t about you. It’s not because I don’t care. It’s because I care too much. I don’t know if or when I’ll be back. I wish I could promise you something—anything—but all I can say is that if there was any other way, I’d take it.  Please take care of yourself. Be safe. Be happy. You deserve that, shorty.

—Sam’

The note. 

You still have the note; you carry it in your bag.

Breakfast was never finished that day. Actually, breakfast was never the same. What used to be your favorite meal of the day was quickly pushed off to the wayside, your eggs slightly less sunny-side up without Sam. To this day, laying on your back in the park on 7th, you still haven’t eaten breakfast. 

It’s been 13 years.

Not much has changed for you in all of the passed time. You still wonder about Sam. After all, they say that if you love something, set it free. Except you kind of felt cheated. 

You didn’t set him free. 

You wished that you had told Sam your feelings before he left. Lord knows you tried; it seems like you called and texted him thousands of times. Not a single message was answered. Voicemail after voicemail was left, the box never giving a ‘full’ warning. All this time later, you wonder if he listened to them before he deleted them. You kept calling, until one day instead of his comforting voice before the beep, you heard a cold robotic voice chant ‘The number you have dialed is not in service. Sorry.” 

Hell, you didn’t even know if you felt the same way after all this time or if it was just the past you were stuck in. Maybe you were stuck on a last-ditch hope that he would come back. 

Maybe that’s why you never moved. 

Darkness was starting to draw closer, the last rays of sunlight nearly snubbed out. Sighing, you slowly sat up, brushing dried leaves from your hair. You felt a few flecks of water splash on your forehead, looking up, grey clouds were looming threateningly. 

You gathered your things, including the umpteenth letter you’d written to Sam but weren’t ever able to send. Fully standing up now, you started on your way home. Thankfully, the walk wasn’t too far. You cut across the corner of the park, making a beeline for the sidewalk as the rain began to fall harder. You started running, the sprinkles soon turning into a cold downpour.

By the time you reached your front porch, you were shaking and drenched by the ice-cold shower. You unlocked your door, slammed it shut to seemingly show the rain who’s boss, relocked it, and kicked your shoes off in one swift motion. 

You raced upstairs to take a warm shower, wash off all of the cold. After your shower, you threw on your favorite pair of sweatpants and a shirt of Sam’s that you found under his bed after he left. It was just one of those nights. You meandered downstairs, toward the kitchen to find something for dinner and a glass of wine.

A faint knock at the door interrupted your path.

You turned and looked at the clock on the wall. You weren’t expecting anyone tonight. Damn it, it was broken, stuck on 2:22. You made a mental note to replace the batteries on your way to the door. You unlocked and opened the door, but nobody was there. You looked to the left, then to the right, before shutting the door. Damn neighborhood kids.

You padded off toward your kitchen again, this time after your junk drawer. A louder knock interrupted you once again. A second time, you headed toward the door, a bit faster this time. You opened the door just a crack and peeked out.

Oh. My. God.

You threw open the door, revealing a wet Sam Winchester. “Sam?” you questioned, before wrapping the lumbering man in a bear hug. You didn’t need an answer to your question, you knew it was him. You clung to his wet Carhartt jacket, the tears flowing off of your cheeks and onto his already damp flannel.

He was older, his grey was starting to show. His hair was longer, but it still had the beautiful shine that was so uniquely…him. He looked war-torn and half beat. He was still the same, though. He smelled the same. The perfect mix of leather, old books, pine, gunpowder and cheap soap. Sam. Your Sam.

“Hey, shorty,” he smiled, hugging you just as tight back and kissing the top of your head. You couldn’t hold back your tears, and neither could he. “Sam…13 years…you…” you managed to stutter out as sobs racked your body. “I know, I’m sorry, I know,” he kept repeating, like his own personal mantra. You took a few deep breaths to compose yourself, then broke the hug to invite him in. 

“You came back?” you questioned. “Of course, I thought about you every day,” he replied. You beamed at him, tears welling up in your eyes again. “Don’t cry, you’ll make me cry!” he exclaimed, wiping away your tears before wiping away his own. You couldn’t help but give a short giggle. 13 years out the window, everything was just like it always had been with him. 

He followed you to your kitchen table, taking a seat as you gestured. You grabbed the bottle of your favorite whiskey down from the shelf above your fridge. “You still drink Bearproof?” he chortled. You rolled your eyes, “Of course! Apparently you still don’t have good taste.” He smiled and shook his head, accepting the short glass filled with ice you offered him. You sat down across from him at the table and reached over to fill his glass with the amber liquid. 

You took a pull from the bottle after filling your own, just something to calm your nerves you told yourself. On the surface, you looked calm, but underneath you felt like you were shaking like a leaf on a twig. You two sat in silence for a while, while it wasn’t awkward, it was heavy. The both of you would sneak glances at each other in between sips of your drinks, pretending to be oblivious to the other’s wandering eyes. Finally, you had had enough.

You topped off each of your glasses for the third or fourth time, it was starting to get hard keeping track. “Sam, riddle me this: why come back after all this time? What if I had moved, or found someone, or…” you trailed off. He dragged his finger around the rim of the glass, seemingly lost in thought. “All these years, I kept tabs on you—” “What?!” you interrupted. “All these years? I called you Sam, thousands of times. I tried tracking you down, I filed a missing person’s report for fucks sake! I wrote you letter after letter after goddamn letter I couldn’t send!”

He remained stoic, his finger still carefully tracing the rim. He sighed, catching you with his puppy dog eyes. “Look, I wish I could tell you the truth, but you won’t believe me.” “Try me,” you retorted. He sighed again and finished off his drink, automatically you refilled it. Sam took the bottle from you and topped up your glass. “You’re gonna need this.” 

Sam told you a story like you had never heard before. By the time he had finished, the bottle of whiskey was gone and instead a bottle of vodka took its place. You took a few minutes, maybe more, to digest everything he told you. It seemed hard to believe, but Sam wasn’t the type to lie.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, you managed to croak out, “I’m sorry about your brother. He seemed like a great man. And…thank you for your sacrifice…for saving the world.” He huffed cynically, “Yeah, sure.” You took a pull from the bottle of vodka before handing it to Sam, who happily accepted. 

The short-lived conversation died off once again, this time leading to peaceful silence. You glanced at the clock, out of habit, but it was still stuck at 2:22. That’s what you needed to do! You slowly got up, joints creaking, head slightly spinning, “Ooh, it always catches up to you when you stand.” 

Sam smiled and stood as well, offering you his hand. You gladly took it, relishing his calloused skin against your soft palm. You staggered over to the junk drawer, stabilizing yourself against the countertop. Sam tottered over and placed his hands on your hips to help support your swaying frame. 

Heat immediately rose to your cheeks. Your mind cleared of all thoughts except for what you’d like to do to him. 

What did you come over here for again?

You closed the drawer quickly, the only thing stopping it from slamming being that the cabinets were soft-closing. You spun around to face Sam, not caring if he saw your blush. “Sam, I have to tell you something.” He raised his eyebrow quizzically. “You…you heard all of my voicemails, didn’t you? Saw all of my texts?” He grinned, then looked down at his socks. “Yeah, yeah. I did.” You nodded once, trying to clear the embarrassment from your brain like an etch-a-sketch. No luck.

“Cool. Yeah, uh, cool. Um… about that…” you trailed off. “I don’t expect you to feel the same way after so long. I know we had a few drunken nights of fun way back when, but we’re different people now.” Different people? What did he mean by that? You thought about asking him, but staring at his face, you could only think of one thing. 

Fuck it.You slammed your lips into his, desperate and wanting. He kissed you back with just as much wanton. Everything felt perfect. No, everything was perfect as long as Sam was back.

[cleolinda]

Weekend links, February 9, 2025

My posts

I’ve been working on a Silent Hill 2 remake commentary (in tandem with @idoherty451) as I slowly play a practice run through the game. As I keep saying, but in case you haven’t heard: I have never played a video game before. I started out stuck in the parking lot begging James to pick up the map, but now I have video of my skill-and-strategy practice with Pyramid Head. If you’re familiar with the game, I have currently just finished playing Toluca Prison in the dark, because I am a brave little toaster, and I am now moving into the Labyrinth. 

(I post things on Patreon first, if you’d like to be on the mailing list for things like that and also Weekend Links, but any gameplay video will be public for copyright reasons.)

Why I'm defiantly focusing on a video game instead of current events.

Also, I have been sick and very mad about it, but my throat is recovering now.

This is a bit of a mega-linkspam because it’s been a very long time since I’ve been well enough to do regular posts (my herniated disc is doing better now, thank you), and we’ve got a good 4-5 weeks of material in 2025 alone. 

Reblogs of interest

I’m still reeling from David Lynch’s passing.

New images of Neptune's rings

Five Things Your Character Can’t Do While Speaking

“This hot anime sword boy is 60 years old. He has a wife and kids. He is licensed to practice law in the state of Illinois.”

Happy birthday to Edgar Allan Poe and Dolly Parton!

A doll-sized quilt show

Jacksepticeye has returned to Tumblr

I like to think that Death could not take Christopher Lee; he could only ask nicely

"Meanwhile Belogarth the Registered PCA is chowing down on back pain"

Successful trans men

New Stabby the Roomba lore dropped

The Juki Deathmetal Ultrafuck

Hobbes as a real tiger

Foxes, graded

Animals on a video conference

It fucken sumny

Video

Needle-felted stop-motion animation

THERE ARE TWO CHOCOLATE GUYS 

“We’ve all decided he’s more of a Greg”

Anxiety Sea Lion

The encouraging art of circles

A daytime Afrovictorian ensemble

Demonstrating the rope dart

Happy National Milk Day to all who celebrate

The sacred texts

“Sometimes people use ‘respect’ to mean ‘treating someone like a person’ and sometimes they use ‘respect’ to mean ‘treating someone like an authority’”

What if it... was for puppies

happy 10 years of spiders georg

*slaps roof of Tumblr* This baby can fit so many rare vintages

Tay’lor Spiff

Personal tags of the week

Since we have a lot to catch up on:

I try to only post positive or actionable things on us politics

Really leaning into cats

Lots of good stuff in fashion

Always worth a look at art

We all could use some beneficent chain posts

And finally, Pallas cats on manul monday

[moiramichaels]

Untitled S.W.A.T and 911 fic

So I never post fanfiction, but a friend told me to be brave so here goes - This takes place right after season one starts for 911, but only mentions Tommy. I'm not sure where it takes place for S.W.A.T. I'm only in season 2 of that show.

-----------------------------------

Luca looked out the window. He was in a parked car with Rocker and they had been trailing a suspect that they hoped would lead to who they were really after. He quickly looked towards Rocker, who was just sitting there staring out the window. He had been mostly quiet the whole day and it was starting to freak him out. He didn't usually work with Rocker, but he knew he wasn't the strong silent type. He had noticed that since Rocker got back from his week off last week, he'd been quiet. Luca figured that something had happened, but he wasn't close enough to really ask Rocker about it. He had noticed Mumford giving him concerned looks a few times. Luca was sure that he knew what was up and that had been enough.

But spending the last couple of hours together and Rocker just sitting and only contributing work related conversation was getting on his nerves. He had promised himself, he would not ask, but he could no longer keep that promise.

He turned fully to Rocker and said "Hey man, you've been quiet today."

"Yeah." he replied.

"Is all okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine." Rocker replied. Luca held back a sigh and quickly looked out the window.

He turned back to Rocker and waited. Finally Rocker sighed and said "You know what, no it's not fine."

Luca kept quiet, giving Rocker his attention. He was now extremely curious what was going on. He replied "Well, whatever it is, I'm here man if you want to talk it out. But if not, that's cool." He didn't really mean that, it would not be cool. Luca just had to know what the hell had gotten into Rocker.

"I always knew I was adopted. My parents were great, but I had this hope to meet my birth parents." Rocker said quietly. "But when I was 13, my parents sat me down and they told me that I had been abandoned as a baby. That I would probably never know who my birth family was."

Rocker had been looking out the window as he said this, but now he looked at Luca. "As you can imagine, this was devastating to 13 year old me. I acted out for a while. But my parents really were great and they helped me through it. And I accepted that I would never know where I came from.

Luca looked at him again and said "that's rough." There has to more to it than just that though.

"Yeah, but 5 weeks ago, I ran into someone who looked exactly like me. That's how I found out I have a twin brother. I mean we did a DNA check to make sure that we didn't just look exactly alike, but yeah twins."

Luca stared at Rocker in shock and Rocker turned back to wait for their target to appear.

"Well what happened, was he also adopted?"

"Nope" Rocker said while emphasizing the p sound. "He didn't know about me and wasn't sure if he was also adopted. So we went to visit his dad and family. They live in Arizona. It turns out that his dad only wanted one kid, so that bastard drove me to L.A. and dropped me off and then went home. They kept my twin."

"Uhh.." Luca was completely speechless here.

"Yeah, but it turns out I was the lucky one. My sperm donor is an awful human being and I found out from one my new cousins, that he was the type of man that was a little too controlling with his wife and son. Apparently my mother wasn't given a choice on keeping both of us and she was too scared to speak up for herself. No one confirmed this, but I'm sure he was the type to hit his wife and kid."

Rocker looked at him again. "You should have heard the things he said to Tommy, the things he called him. Tommy's first reaction was to step back and he's as big as I am. But I was happy to see him step up again and stand up for himself. I let them both know that what he did with me was a crime and I was going to make sure he was charged with it.

"And you're brother is okay with that?" Luca asked.

"Yeah, he seemed thrilled."

Tommy and Luca both went back to watching the building. Luca wondered how long their target would be here. He was visiting his girlfriend, so it might be a while.

Rocker said a few minutes later. "I think Tommy's actually jealous of me. My parents are great. He does want to get to know me and I want to get to know him. I introduced him to my parents and they said that they'd like a chance to give him good parents. I think he doesn't trust it, but they've decided we are going to adopt him as well. And he can bring that one cousin of his that seemed cool. The rest can stay in Arizona."

"Wow, just wow." Luca finally said and then turned back to the front.

"Yeah, but my brother is great. He's a firefighter. In fact he's a firefighter pilot. Just moved from a regular fire station to one where he can fly helicopters. Pretty cool."

"That is cool, man." Wow, Luca thought again.

[sweetflanfiction]

Asymetrical Symphony - Part 26

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know

A.N: I'm sorry for the delay. Unfortunately life gets in the way of these things!

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11 • Part 12 • Part 13 • Part 14 • Part 15 • Part 16 • Part 17 • Part 18 • Part 19 • Part 20 • Part 21 • Part 22 • Part 23 • Part 24 • Part 25

• ··········· • ············ •

Thanks to whatever gods were now in charge of watching your endeavors, you made your way quickly and easily through the aqueduct. A mix of Viktor’s knowledge of the place and your ability to unlock doors and create distractions meant you didn’t need to go through the rocky riverbed.

Once on the other side of the river, you both made your way silently toward the main city, and when you arrived back at the park, the sun was already low on the horizon.

Viktor paused next to the small bench you had met by that morning, scratching the back of his neck and biting on his cheek, and you frowned.

“Spit it.” You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow when he looked up at you, but then his gaze drifted away.

“I have a…suggestion to give you, but I’m afraid of what you might think of me after.”

Your frown got deeper as his cheeks got redder.

“Go on.” 

“My apartment is closer to the aqueduct than the penthouse, so…” He cleared his throat. “I think it would be beneficial…and far less exhausting… if…youspendthenightatmyhouse.”

The last part of the sentence came out as fast as the hex claw laser. You got 'spend' and 'house'…ah…

…

“You don’t have to; it is completely up to you, and even if you say yes and then change your mind, you can go! And the walls are really paper-thin, so if you are worried that I do anything to you… I mean you do have magic and I'm not exactly the strongest man in Piltover…once…Jayce gently pushed me away from an experiment, and I toppled over… Embarrassing, really… Why am I telling you this?”

You blinked a couple of times. At first I'm shocked that he had actually asked you to spend time at his place, especially after the day you both had. And then at his comically dramatic rant, a smile appeared on your face as he kept going.

“Alright, sounds like a good plan.”

“Besides, your mother isn’t here yet, and you’d be alone and…wait, what?” He finally stopped to look at you.

“It’s a good idea. We’ll be able to squeeze a few more hours of sleep in and do some planning.”

Viktor started to nod slowly at first and then enthusiastically. His face opened up with a nervous but bright smile.

“You want to go get takeout at Voltaire’s? I’m sure I can convince him to get you some tart…” He announced as he passed you by, waiting for you to follow him.

“No need.” He adjusted his cane, and you could have sworn he had a little more pep in his step. “Jayce came over the other day; his mother usually makes him bring me food. I fear she thinks I can’t feed myself.”

“Eh…pastries and dessert don’t count as a balanced meal plan, Vik.” You joked, and he gave an ‘I don’t care’ type shrug. “I’m just happy you're eating.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” You shifted your backpack’s straps, realizing what you had blurted out.

“Well, work…”

“I can eat and work! That is why I have two hands…” He made a gesture of screwing a bolt and grabbing something to eat.

“Wow…efficient.” He made an agreeing sound with his throat, and you laughed.

“Keep doing it! As much as people would kill for those cheekbones, gaunt wouldn’t look good on you.” You winked at him and laughed when he touched the reddening apple of his cheeks. 

Viktor joined your amusement as you both walked towards the Artist Quarters on your way to Engineering Street. 

The small apartment Viktor had inhabited was, in fact, closer to the aqueduct, between the riverbed and the Academy. Most of the people working in the Academy had housing there. Mostly because the rents were low for them and proximity. It was a step up from dorms, but not really an upgrade in luxury.

And while Engineering Street was quiet throughout the day and night, you’d even say a bit boring, the Artist Quarters were a lively and colorful place, becoming more energetic at night.

The buildings were smaller, with a maximum of 3 floors, but bright with small shops on the floor levels. Bakeries, art shops, music stores. The cobblestone streets were filled with chalk drawings on the ground, and the streetlights had string lights hanging in between them. 

The colors seemed to become brighter in these streets with the number of flowers and small trees and the strewn artists painting on the streets or people drinking and eating on the restaurant’s patio.

You passed by an art supply shop, and someone inside shouted Viktor’s name and waved at him. Viktor did the same, warmly greeting the elderly man storing a display of watercolors on a shelf, and you became curious.

“Mr. Felton sells me the pencils and chalks the council hates so much.” Viktor explained when he saw your expression.

“Have you ever tried drawing?”

“Oh no! Jayce is the artist of the two of us. He’s in charge of doing the initial designs and sketches…I’m good with a ruler, though!”

You were chuckling at his pride and confidence when he suddenly veered right and started to fish something out of his satchel. He took out a key and shoved it into the intricate front door to a beautiful blue-tiled building.

When he noticed you weren’t following him, he turned back and mentioned for you to come.

Viktor, head scientist and co-creator of Hextech, did not live on Engineering Street… Viktor, the color-coding aficionado, lived in the Artists Quarters. And you knew, in your heart of hearts…in the depths of your soul…there was nothing that made more sense than this.

His never-stopping mind didn’t need the monotony of the academy-assigned living quarters. It needs the bustle and the bustle and the colors of this place. You wondered if anything would have been different if the other Viktor had had this thought.

…

The building was beautiful outside and in.

On the outside, the light blue tiled walls were decorated with white columns and stone windows. There were three floors, with the two higher ones having a small veranda on them, just big enough to have two chairs on them. The ivy that crept up on the walls broke the symmetric façade of the building, clinging to the columns and tiles like veiny tendrils of bright green. What really got your attention at first was the front door, a white wood double door with intricate carvings and colorful glass panes, finished with a beautifully curved glass canopy.

The inside of the building was just as wonderful, with pastel brown painted walls and various little plants scattered on corners; the well-used wooden floors gave the inside a cozy feeling. In the middle back of the foyer was an old, small elevator that Viktor quickly made his way to, only stopping at the metal mailboxes to see if anything had been left to him. Nothing.

When you got to the elevator, you noticed Viktor’s hand tapping on the handle of his crutch. He was biting his cheek and slightly frowning, breathing in and out deeply at points.

“Are you alright?” You asked, leaning against the cage of the elevator.

“Mmm?” You nodded to his fingers on the handle, and he stopped, clutching the handle tighter. “Sorry…I--”

“Remember when you said I could change my mind and go? The same applies to you. I can just go.” You made sure your tone wasn’t disappointed or angry or any unintentional emotion that would make him feel bad when there was absolutely nothing to feel bad about. You’d respect his decision the same way you know he’d respect yours.

“No…” he quickly interjected. “I…this is not because I don’t want you here. It is because I do. I’m afraid I may do something that will scare you off…”

“I don’t scare easily.” You want to add, ‘I once spit in the face of a god,’ but then he would start asking questions. So you just touched his hand and smiled. 

The elevator stopped with a mechanical groan, and Viktor nodded, more to himself than to you, and walked out to the second-floor foyer. He opened the door and walked inside with you close behind. However, you couldn’t make it past the door frame without gasping wide-eyed while your mind blanked.

Something about butterflies and wings came to mind, though.

The inside of his apartment was the exact same floor plan as the other dimension. A small kitchenette to the left with a window on top of the sink, and the rest was open space. The glass and wood door to the balcony was on a diagonal corner in front of the main door; next to it was a small arrangement of windows with curved lines going through them, giving them a delicate design. There was a room to the side, which you guessed was the bedroom, and another room at the end of the open space, the bathroom. It wasn’t cramped, but it was small.

You knew this floor plan like the back of your hand; you could close your eyes and go from here to the bathroom without bumping into the wall.

What changed, though, made the entire home feel different. The decorations and the colors. The lived-in details of the furniture.

The walls had been painted a deep forest green, instead of the neutral gray of the other dimension. There were decorations on the walls, diplomas, and schematics displayed proudly. The wooden floors were shiny and covered with rugs here and there.

The small table that served as a divider between the kitchen and the living space had a napkin holder and a wooden straw table mat. There were pans on top of the fridge and plates on the dish rack. There were two mugs on the sink, one of them with ‘man of progress printed on it. 

It contrasted with the table that only served to hold books, boxes, and schematics. On the other timeline, glasses and plates were stored so as not to catch dust from not being used.

The living room had three bookcases filled with trinkets, books, vinyl records, and their player. 

The books weren’t just academic, like the other apartment’s shelves, but also biographies and fantasy, architecture, and philosophy.

You could see the collector's edition of your mother’s saga neatly tucked into a shelf with small ceramic figures of the main characters in front of them. 

There were photos of him, Jayce, Sky, and even your mom and Willah. Noticeably he didn’t look particularly comfortable in any of them, but it was a stark difference from the single photo of Jayce and Viktor at the inauguration of the hexgate and the framed newspaper clipping of the hex crystal discovery. 

The couch was a light dusty pink color with decorative pillows and two folded blankets on the back of it. It was a sharp difference from the leather-bound couch with blankets thrown about and his bed pillow shoved into a corner.

Behind a clothed divider, a desk and some scientific material were completely thrown around, but the mess was enclosed there. Near a big window, you saw the single-seat, twin version of the couch your mother sent to the lab. Tucked in a nook surrounded by plants and books. 

There were shoes on the shoe rack and coats on the coat hanger. There was an open book with a cover-up on the end table near the couch. There were tea stains on the dinner table. There was a life being lived here.

As you walked around the home, with Viktor trailing in front of you explaining and adding commentary to the million new things you were finding in the familiar house, you found yourself wondering why the Viktor you knew from before couldn’t have been gifted this…why was this Viktor standing in front of you smiling and being a generally happy human while his cosmic twin coughed himself to death? It made you sad and happy and angry and relieved.

“Are you alright?” Viktor tapped your shoulder, something he had now started to use to catch your attention instead of grabbing you.

You took a deep breath and mentioned the couch, silently asking permission to sit. Quickly he nodded and grabbed some pillows to make space for you. 

When you fell onto the leathery furniture, he took the place next to you, looking concerned.

“V…I…need to--”

“Meow”

Your speech was interrupted by a long, muffled meow by the front door, accompanied by small scratches on the wood.

“Oh…No, no… I’m sorry…Give me a moment…” Viktor gave an apologetic smile and got up, while you looked on intrigued by this.

He walked towards the bathroom door and opened it and then went back to the front door and did the same. The blackest of black cats intertwined itself on Viktor's legs, giving out small greeting squeaks and purrs.

“Go. Go on. Yes, I know.” Viktor said, smiling softly at the cat, talking back to them as if he could understand. 

The scientist softly nudged the cat with his foot, making the furry critter understand the big human wanted to move.

The cat finally acknowledged you and walked slowly towards where you sat, sitting gracefully in front of you and staring. Their blue eyes looked at you, and you swore that if all of the lights in Piltover were to turn off, the cat's eyes would be the only thing beaming.

“You have a cat.” You stated more than asked.

“Eehhh…Technically, the building has a cat. She just heard me first.” He limped back towards the couch and sat down.

“What's her name?” 

“Noir…Nono for short.” 

The cat leaped to the couch and smelled the hand you gave her. After a while, she deemed you worthy of her time and pushed her head into her hand, while Viktor stroked her body.

“Nono.” You called, and she looked at you. You presented her with your name, and she meowed.

When she was sick of the attention, she jumped down and walked to the bathroom, where you heard the telltale signs of her munching on her food.

“What were you saying?”

Viktor’s face was the definition of relaxed, the concern from before being replaced with a soft gaze and smile. 

Was the need to come clean to him about his cosmic twin attempting to end the world worth him losing his peace? Would the information you were about to vomit change what he has so carefully built?

“I…think I just need to eat.” You gave him a bright smile, and he laughed quietly.

“Very well.” He got up from the couch and made his way to the kitchen counter, and you followed him. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

You already were, the familiar floor plan making you feel at home. You sat at the dinner table watching him open his fridge and take out some glass containers with food and place them in the oven to heat up. 

Viktor sat on a chair next to you and slowly took off his leg brace, sighing in release.

“If you want to, you can shower. I can go ask Madame Theroux, my neighbor, if she can let me borrow one of her kid's old clothes… I think she might have something that fits you.” 

“Oh no…That’s too much of a bother.”

“Nonsense.” He got up and grabbed a discarded cane that was hooked on the divider and walked towards his bedroom. 

After a while, he came out holding two fluffy towels and handed them to you. “She probably already heard I have company; might as well come clean sooner than later; otherwise she’ll be knocking on my door to snoop.”

“Sounds like a charm.” You grabbed the towels.

“She is actually. She’s very protective of us…the people in the building.” He smiled and mentioned the bathroom door. “If you could just leave the door ajar so Nono can come in and out…otherwise she will throw a tantrum.”

The black cat, now curled up on the couch, meowed at hearing her name. You nodded and walked to the bathroom while Viktor made his way to his neighbor's door.

“Oh…you can use whatever you need from there.” He opened the door and paused again. “There’s a robe on the back of the door if you need it.”

The door clicked shut, and you looked at Nono, who looked up at you and blinked slowly.

The bathroom was big, and while in the other dimension, it was just a well, normal bathroom; this one had been enhanced to help Viktor with his disability.

There were grab rails next to the slightly raised toilet and in the shower nook. All of the towel racks were sturdy enough to assist if he needed.

The floor had several thin anti-slip rugs, and the shower also had one that looked like wood. 

There was also a stool inside the shower that you assumed he would use when needed.

You and Viktor in your timeline had once talked about this, making his house accessible for when he needed it, but his answer had been dismissive. A shrug and an ‘I spend more time in the lab anyway.’ Maybe you should have insisted; maybe you should have been more enthused about making it easier for him. Maybe if you had, he would have seen you in a better light after he had gotten the news.

It frustrated you that ‘maybes’ were all you had now. Even if you went back to your dimension, those things would still be in a maybe and if pile.

You heard the door close and started your shower quickly. You heard a knock on the door.

“There is a chair outside the door, in arm's reach for you to take. Madame Theroux said she threw in some undergarments…I didn’t check.” 

“Thank you.” 

You finished the shower and grabbed the clothes. Some red cotton checkered bottoms, a matching shirt, a white undershirt, and undergarments. It looked cozy, and it did fit you perfectly. This brought up the question of how Viktor had described you to the neighbor for her to get accurate measurements.

Walking out of the bathroom intent on joking about it with him, you stopped when you saw him haul a blanket and what you assume was a pillow to the couch.

“Oh. You are done.” He smiled, grabbed some clothes from the back of the couch, and walked towards you. “I think the food will be done soon. I am going to take a shower too, and then we eat, yes?”

You were still looking at the pillow and the sheet that was already tucked into the sofa. 

“This for me?” You blurted it out before he passed you, and he shook his head.

“No. You’re my guest. You sleep on the bed.” He sounded proud of himself. “May I?”

Viktor pointed to the door of the bathroom, and you noticed you had been blocking his path. You took a step forward, and he smiled, walked inside, and pushed the door almost closed.

The ruffling of clothes snapped you out of your stupor, and you walked towards the kitchen, throwing daggers at the couch.

• ··········· • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @kitewa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw @lucycarlisleswife @noxturnalmoth @ren-ren23 @furblrwurblr @kapitankarate @mynicknameisgasoline @octo-octopie @birbwithhat @kneelarmhstrung @dedicated2viktor @elvishstudies @iamfandomnerd @jazzypop-op @jojo-at-heart @deceivethedreamer

[tackytigerfic]

Writer interview game

Thank you to my pals @arminaa8, @citrusses, @garagepaperback, @houndsinhades, @sorrybutblog, @sweet-s0rr0w, @wholahoop for tagging me - as always i'm deeply late to the party, due to an anxious few weeks/horridly busy work month! so love being tagged in these things though, i appreciate you all and loved reading yours.

how many works do you have on ao3? 69 😏 under tacky and 2 under BrassTacks (the account I set up when I was going to migrate all my fics over to a new name for some reason)

what's your total ao3 word count? 679,422 (nervous laughter) (also this is just the tacky account)

your top 5 stories by kudos? (a clear indication that kudos count means fuck all imo, three of the five of these are very much not my best imo - but which three?!)

If It Takes All Night (E, 11k)

A Lick and a Promise (E, 55k)

Modern Love (E, 62k)

And One To Play (E, 22k)

Through the Window, Clear Skies (M, 1.4k)

do you respond to comments? I used to reply to all, then i fell hugely behind with Modern Love, and then life got exceptionally busy and for ages it was either reply to comments or write new fics. i am currently working my way through comments on my new long fic though - really trying to catch up, albeit slowly.

what's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? People might say my MCD fic Last Offices. I would say The Quiver of a Heartstring.

what's the fic you've written with the happiest ending? First Watch, imo - i think they really had to work for their happy ending, and also it's a double Drarry happy ending

do you write crossovers? I have a rough idea for an F1 crossover based on the Grosjean fiery crash/coming back wrong trope

have you ever received hate on a fic? a few times, that stuff doesn't really bother me though. personal unpleasantnesses are much harder to deal with but luckily don't happen often.

do you write smut? yes i do! it's something i've been actively working on improving, in fact. my most recent fic Standing in the Way is probably my best (though the sex scene at the end of First Watch was the one I found most satisfying in terms of the resolution of the fic)

have you ever had a fic stolen? yes, had a few put on that AI voice-recorded site recently.

have you ever had a fic translated? yes, a few - always a great honour as i see translation as an art in itself

have you ever co-written a fic before? yes! and it was very fun. Body Electric with @shealwaysreads and the Dreaming Skies Dronarry fics with @sweet-s0rr0w

what's your all-time favorite ship? look i've been reading drarry since around 2002 so...

what's a wip that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? Dudley with a magical baby/forced marriage/drarry on the run after Muggles find out about magic. MoD Harry who keeps dying but not for good having to go retrieve Draco from death. Draco going through the Veil to get Sirius back. Vicar Harry that I started years ago and would probably need a full rewrite. Caravan park worker Draco in a holiday camp in France. Seer Ron. I have lots. Though I do hope to finish them at some point!

what are your writing strengths? probably immediacy of emotions/ a strong visual style?

what are your writing weaknesses? sloppiness, sameiness, trying to be concise but just making it dull. getting discouraged at never being as good as the writers i really admire.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? i... don't really have many? if someone in the story speaks a foreign language and doesn't speak english then I'd find a native speaker to help me translate their dialogue. I would never write an accent/dialect phonetically a la JKR though (RIP Fleur and Hagrid, you deserved better)

what's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to? F1!! I have two WIPs, a Maxiel non-racing AU where Daniel owns an organic farm shop and Max is a finance bro who makes friends with him and joins his 11-a-side amateur footie team and they hook up on a stag do while dressed as mariokart characters, and a Galex fic with Vicar!George.

what's your favorite fic you've ever written? First Watch! I think it's a really good fic (relative to my writing i mean), it does exactly what i hoped it would, and the people who like it seem to really genuinely love it, which is the best feeling. Also I do love the Voldemort-Wins trope and we don't have a huge amount in Drarry so I'm happy I wrote one.

Since I'm so late I'm not sure who's done this already (will try a few F1 pals too in case this hasn't reached you yet) @beloved-child-of-the-house @boxboxlewis @disarmd @elskanellis @epitomereally @faiell @kendra-vendetta @maesterchill @magicalrocketships @powerful-owl @saxamophone @skeptiquewrites

[write-here-n-now]

"saved from the law"

⤷ C.(s) Park Sunghoon x Reader ⤷ WC. 553

⤷ Part of: "the dangerous games we play"

∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘

You’re running as fast as you can through the federal agency, after receiving a call from one of the other lawyers about agents suddenly bursting into Sunghoon’s office and arresting him. 

You finally reach the office they’re holding in, bursting in, making everyone stop dead in their tracks, Sunghoon smirks, knowing what's to come. 

As you catch your breath, you see a pleasantly pleased Sunghoon seated at a table, hands cuffed behind his back as agents and attorneys surround him.

“Uncuff my client…” you request, once you have enough air to form proper words. 

“Miss Y/N! WHO let you in?” hisses Attorney Choi—bane of your existence and Sunghoon’s—clearly not thrilled at your appearance.

“My client was taken into custody, do you think I was going to sit around waiting for your invitation?” you snap as you walk past Attorney Choi to Sunghoon.

“You got here just in time, I thought I was going to have to take one of their plea deals,” jokes Sunghoon as you take a seat next to him. You would normally respond but you’re in focus mode, strategizing how to get both of you out of here quickly.

“Was I not clear the first time?” The room looks at you in silence. “The handcuffs!” You exclaim.

The agents and prosecutors are at your throat, throwing charges and deals left and right, but you rebut most of the arguments, Sunghoon beside you enjoying the spectacle.

Later, you two are still giggling as you enter the parking lot, recalling the colour drain from everyone’s faces when they realize they had more to lose by trying to mess with you.

“That was spectacular, brava,” he claps. 

“I know, I know.”

Slinging an arm across your shoulder, he pulls you closer to his side as you walk. You let your arm wrap around his waist, leaning into him.

“What would I do without you?” he asks, turning to you, his face marked by pure adoration. 

“I don’t know, be in prison,” you tease, looking back up into his eyes.

“Hmmm, maybe, maybe not” he ponders. 

You halt your steps, unwrapping yourself from his side. He turns to you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“MAYBE NOT? Park Sunghoon, you’ve begged me to come save you whenever you’ve been arrested,” you accuse.

“Shhhh, I have a mysterious image to upkeep,” he puts a finger to your lips, jokingly glancing to see if anyone heard.

“I can just go back , tell them everything and then you can charm your way out of the charges,” you offer, pointing with your thumb in the office’s direction, leaning towards the direction.

He’s quick to gather you in a hug, barring you from walking away, whispering apologies in-between little snickers at your pettiness.

“Yes yes you’re right, I would not be a free man without you.” 

He plants a quick kiss to your forehead, reaching down, he interlocks your hands while pressing his forehead to yours.

“Let’s get something to eat and then go home, yeah?” 

“You owe me a BIG fancy dinner for my hard work, Mister Park.” 

“As you wish~,” he plants another kiss, but this time to your lips.

Sure he might have almost been sent to prison a few hours ago, but right now? His favourite lawyer was in his arms—freedom had never tasted so sweet.  

❉ | Taglist: @yunthejin | ❉

[pagelets]

Park Sunghoon as your boyfriend:

"And does he know that there's nobody quite like you

So let me tell you all the things he never told you

I got these feelings for you

And I can't help myself no more"

- Staycations:

• Sunghoon is a total homebody, everyone knows that, but he goes out for you. 

• To keep the cozy, 'lazy day at home' vibe, he plans the best staycations. 

• A hotel room in Seoul with room service, ice cream, board games, and a big, comfy bed with you next to him is all he could ever ask for.

• After all, to have a perfect day, all he needs is you by his side.

- Househusband:

• He loves tidiness, it’s good for the mind and body. And what’s better than a spotless environment, right?

 • Sunghoon cleans the house, washes the dishes, does the laundry, irons the clothes, and even folds them neatly into your wardrobe.

• The best part? He actually enjoys doing it alone while you relax on the couch.

• "Let me help you just this time", you say, grabbing the duster from his hand. "No, no, Yn. You’re going to rest, your week was tough", he says, taking it back. "So was yours" "But cleaning is my way of winding down. Now go rest, you’re going to need this energy later,", he smirks before going back to dusting the shelf.

- Night walks with Geul:

• Late night walks with Geul along the Han River under the beautiful Seoul night sky.

• He holds the leash in one hand and your hand in the other, gently stroking it with his thumb as you both talk about your day.

- You help him practice english:

• Now he has extra motivation to study English (besides from being able to communicate with more Engenes, of course).

• You two made a deal: for every correct answer, he gets a kiss. Which means, the more he practices, the closer he gets to your lips and he loves that.

• But you’re strict. Even though the reward benefits both of you, his learning is the priority.

- Loves to bite your neck:

• Vampire teeth were made with one purpose, biting necks. 

• But don’t worry, he’s not trying to drink your blood. It’s just his way of showing affection. 

• And sometimes, you even let him leave marks

- Ice skating dates:

• Of course, ice skating dates are a must, right?

• If you’re good at it, you two even compete to see who’s faster. 

• But if you’re not, that’s okay, he won’t let you fall and will patiently teach you how to skate.

• He just won’t promise not to laugh if you fall (it’s inevitable) but he will always help you to stand up.

• Either way, it’s always fun to be with his two first loves at the same time.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒𓂃⠀⠀˖

Jay version

Heeseung version

Ni-ki version