#its like seeing a celebrity in the wild after meeting them

[jo-speaks]

want to request 🎂 with quinn hughes and prompts “can we try something new tonight” and “can we come up with a safe word before continuing”; also happy birthday 😋

warnings: cockwarming, p in v, unprotected sex, mentions of tonight's game, etc.

celebration masterlist

note: i got carried away. this was meant to be completely different, but i'm saving that plot line for its own post

The sound of the door unlocking woke you up from your slumber, the sound of ESPN reduced to background noise as the broadcast had come to an end.

You rubbed the sleep away from your eyes, the disappearance of your sleep haze allowing you to see Quinn drop his bag in frustration before slipping off his shoes. In his frustration, he hadn’t noticed you on the couch, immediately going to your shared bedroom to seek your comfort. 

“Y/N?” He called out, confusion lacing his voice as he opened the bedroom door to see the bed made the same way he had left it before leaving. 

“I’m out here.” You replied, voice heavy with sleep. 

He quickly reappeared at the end of the hall, his body easing up as he took you in. He was quiet, the frustrations of the night fighting to stay bottled up inside of him. You weren’t oblivious to what was happening, but you didn’t press. Instead, you lifted the blanket that was draped around you, wordlessly offering him a space next to you.

Quinn was quick to accept, his body heavy as he dropped onto the couch, his head leaning back against the frame of it. You rested your elbow on the frame as well, holding your head up as you stared at the restless man next to you.

You brought your free hand to his thigh, rubbing up and down gently to make him aware of your presence. “You okay?”

A tired sigh passed his lips, “No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

Your lips pursed. You didn’t want to annoy him, but you also didn’t want to leave him in this state. “Is there anything I can do?”

Once again, he sighed. You thought it was him getting fed up with you, but when he pulled you on top of his lap to straddle him, that idea was thrown out the window. “Can we try something?”

You nodded, words not seeming like an option as he reduced you to silence. Quinn tugged you down gently, connecting his lips to yours in a way that was a tad bit too hard to be considered soft.

He pulled away slightly, “Sit on my cock?” his words right against your mouth as they came out in a whisper. 

Your jaw dropped the slightest bit, causing Quinn to let out a soft laugh. You knew that having sex helped calm people down, but you never imagined Quinn to propose that. Especially after a long night like tonight, but you figured that the physical toll of these high-minute games was becoming more impactful for him as more and more piled on.

He noticed your longing look as if you were lost in thought,  now feeling rather embarrassed, “We don’t have to, of course. It was just an idea.” 

You quickly shook your head, “No, no it’s not like that. I’m just… surprised. Thought you’d want more than that.”

Quinn smiled softly, “I thought about it, but I just need you close tonight.”

The smile that appeared on your face nearly made Quinn’s heart jump out of his chest. He loved how open you were to his ideas even if you didn’t see the appeal. Your open-mindedness grew his confidence when it came to initiating anything, which translated to the ice, so for that, he was thankful.

You stood up, sliding off your panties that hid under Quinn’s shirt that you just so happened to be wearing. He watched lovingly as you brought your hands down to him, unbuttoning his dress pants and pulling them down for him, tugging them completely off his body. 

Not wanting you to do all the work, he lifted his hips and slid off his boxers just enough to reveal his length. Your face warmed at the sight, your eyes immediately coming up to meet Quinn’s eyes before you let your mind run wild with ideas.

He didn’t need that right now. He just needed you.

His hands came up to your waist, pulling you closer to sit on him. But, you resisted, your body pulling back against his hands as your eyebrows perked up in realization. 

“One second.” You blurted, running to the bedroom. 

Quinn sat there confused, pulling a throw pillow over himself as he suddenly felt more exposed as if anyone was there to see him. You didn’t take long, coming back in less than a minute with a big bundle in your hand.

Before he could question you, you moved the pillow and sat down, legs on either side of his own, taking his cock and lining it up to your entrance. You looked up at him for approval, “Go ahead.”

You pressed your lips to him, sinking down slowly onto him. Quinn let out a sigh of relief and pleasure, the warm exhale on your skin causing you to shiver slightly. He brought his hands up to your waist, guiding you the rest of the way down and helping you adjust.

“What’s that?” He mumbled against your mouth, reminding you of what you had brought out of the bedroom.

Pulling away, your fingers made quick work on the buttons of his shirt, struggling slightly as you worked to release every single one, slowly exposing more and more of his body. You loved the softness of his torso, his perfect balance of muscle to fat causing you to swoon whenever you saw him shirtless around the house or in the summer.

He watched as you stripped him of his top, a chill sprouting across his skin at the cool Vancouver air sweeping in slightly through the glass windows. The cold was short-lived as you grabbed the fabric, revealing it to be his favourite hoodie to rest in on nights like these. It may have seemed meaningless, but to him, it showed that you prioritized his comfort in any situation, even in moments like these.

“I love you.” You whispered, kissing him quickly before you pulled it over his head, helping him slip in with ease.

The warmth of the hoodie and your walls hugging perfectly around him had his heart threatening to jump out of his chest. He wrapped you into a complete hug, adjusting your bodies slightly which caused both of you to exhale moans at the movement.

Quinn looked up at you, “I love you too. But, fuck, you’re making it hard to hold back.”

You grinned, the sweetness of his words being immediately contradicted by his horniness. “Then don’t. I’m yours, Q. Whenever you need me.”

Quinn groaned, his hips thrusting up unconsciously, causing your eyebrows to furrow together as you bit back a whine. “Tell me to stop and I will. You remember your word?”

“Mhm.” You sighed, your hips starting to rock back and forth. “Please fuck me, Quinn.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. The sweet evening now turned into his hips rutting up into you slowly, his fingers digging into your hips over the cloth. He wanted to savour the moment – soak up the feeling of the way your pussy was literally made to take him – but his emotions got the best of him.

His mind spiraled back to tonight’s game. Every time the scattered Kings’ fans cheered whenever a goal was scored, the tease of smoke and lights going off when they thought they had scored just to find out it hit the post, and most of all, the electrifying sound that filled the arena when he was able to find the back of the net. A moment that was meant to be enjoyed, but turned bittersweet when it was matched with yet another goal against his team. 

Quinn desperately tried to pull himself out of his thoughts, focus on the way his hips unconsciously sped up, focus on the way sounds were spilling out of you like you hadn’t felt his touch in years, focus on the way your fingers tugged at the ends of his hair. He couldn’t seem to be fully immersed in the moment no matter how desperately he wanted to lose himself in you. 

However, you knew his body better than he did when it came to sex.

You could see the visible disassociation in his eyes, part of him was with you, being indicated by the soft grunts that passed his lips and the slight knitting of his brows. But the other half was lost in a universe of ‘what ifs’ and you couldn’t have that. 

You tilted your body forward, bringing your lips down to his pec, running your tongue over his nipple before sucking on the skin above it, thankful for his sensitive skin. The warmth of your mouth on him snapped him right out, his brain coming back to the present moment. 

He was fully with you now, his noises getting louder and the sound of your skin meeting his intensifying as his thrust up rapidly, causing you to moan against his chest. 

“Y/N…” He moaned, one hand leaving your hip to hold the back of your head as you traveled all over his chest, leaving your mark wherever your lips landed. 

Once you were satisfied, you allow yourself to immerse yourself completely in the moment, feeling every vein of his cock against your walls. You met his thrusts with short bounces, causing an almost scream to leave your throat as he hit that soft spot within you, your hands coming up to rest on the side of Quinn’s neck.

Quinn grinned, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Yeah? Right there?”

You nodded rapidly, babbling at what you were trying to say becoming drowned in your moans as you spread your legs the slightest bit wider, allowing him to slip deeper inside of you. 

“Fuck, Quinn!” You cried, the pressure in your stomach building up steadily.

Your noises encourage him further, his thrusts becoming impossible quicker, the sound of the couch squeaking and sliding slightly across the floor undoubtedly irritating those who lived below you. It was obvious that was the last of his concerns, not doing anything to muffle your moans or his own, something he didn’t do often due to wanting to respect the other people in the building, but also keep your noises to himself.

He let out a particularly long grunt, his thrusts becoming sloppier every time his hips met yours, “Gonna cum, sweet girl. Shit, c’mon, let go with me.” 

His words shot straight to your core, his thumb coming up to toy with your clit being the final straw, your body shaking as it became overwhelmed with euphoria. Quinn followed shortly after, his hips stilling as a cry escaped his throat as he panted, thick ropes of cum painting your insides white. 

Quinn used his hands to rock you back and forth, working you both through your orgasms. The feeling of him filling you up was one you could never get tired of – a feeling you craved when he was gone for long periods of time. 

When you both came to, Quinn didn’t pull out. Instead, he laid you both down, keeping his length tucked inside of you as he pulled you closer to his chest. His lips came to meet yours, mouths moving messily against one another. 

“You’re perfect, baby. Absolutely perfect.” He whispered, admiring your post-orgasm glow in the dim lighting of the TV in the background.

You smiled tiredly, your eyes open just enough to see him, “My all-star. You truly do it all and I’m so proud of you.”

It was those short moments after such an intimate act that you loved more than anything. The reassurance shared between you both ensured that it was an act of love, no matter how soft or rough it was. 

Quinn seemed to be at ease now, his mind calming at the feeling of having you so close to him that he had forgotten all about the game. At least for the night, but that’s all you could ask for from a man who was so dedicated to the game. 

He talked for a moment, telling you a story of something he had seen when in Winnipeg before pulling out of you and helping you up. He scooped you up and carried you down the hall and into the bathroom, where he got the water running in the shower as you peed. 

Pulling off the hoodie, he also helped you undress after you washed your hands, slipping his shirt off of you before guiding you under the warmth of the shower. It was a soft moment, his fingers rubbing the shampoo into your scalp as he kept you close enough under the stream to keep you from getting cold. The shower was quick, only meant to wash you both off so you wouldn’t feel gross when getting into bed. 

He was the one to step out first, drying himself before grabbing your towel and helping you out next. You shared laughs as he told you about something that had happened before the game, allowing a comfortable aura to rise in the bathroom.

Quinn pulled you into your shared bedroom once you were both dry, throwing you gently onto the bed as he hopped in next to you. You both adjust to lay on the pillows, disregarding the need for clothes as you threw a leg over his body and rest your head on his chest, his hand immediately coming around to rub on your back. 

His gaze was fixed on the ceiling as he listened to you talk about your day, responding to you accordingly. It wasn’t long before a soft smile appeared on his face as your voice trailed off slightly, soft snores replacing your words as you slipped into a blissful state. 

He tilted his head to press a kiss atop your hair before his breaths evened out with yours, falling asleep next to the person he loved most in the world. 

[helioooss]

midnight rain

synopsis: sana and y/n used to be the top celebrity couple in the entertainment industry. over a decade after a nasty break up, they meet again at a jimmy kimmel show

w/c: 5.2k

warnings: mentions of drug use and overdose, read at your own risk, angst with a happy ending

a/n: first story in ten years, creative brain’s a bit rough these days, haven’t been on tumblr since its golden days. also not proofread. hope ur all well and enjoy this one :)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Your heart was beating out of your chest, each thump pushing you further you into a downward spiral as your clammy palms tapped against your bouncing knee. Leaning against the chair, you refused to make eye contact with anyone — the worried look on your face was enough to push them away, anyway. In a situation like this, it would be strange to not feel anxious.

After all, it had been over ten years since you let the love of your life go and agreeing to see her on live television was a decision that you have been regretting since the day you said yes.

Two minutes, you blew a breath out as you stared up at the monitor in front of you.

"Welcome to the Tonight Show!" Jimmy trailed off with a smile, the audience in front of him clapping as they yelled in excitement. "Thank you for being here, tonight we have two very special guests —"

A staff member tapped your shoulder, pulling you out of your messy thoughts with his apologetic face. "Y/N, it's time."

Uncrossing your legs, you nodded your head with a shy smile. The fact that you could hear your own heartbeat amongst all the noise made you uneasy, so you stood there for a moment longer; wondering what Minatozaki Sana looked like in person.

You haven't been this nervous since the world found out about your relationship with her.

Taking a deep breath, you walked out with your heart in your throat. You bowed your head at Jimmy and waved your hand at the audience members, screaming can be heard from the other end; your name being chanted, their anticipation shining through from seeing you on television again after what seemed like an eternal hiatus.

It would be a lie to say it didn't feel good to relive what was once your life like, but you don't regret disappearing from the spotlight.

You were happier now, away from all the awards and glory, you think.

As if you were in a movie, time suddenly stopped as she emerged from the other side in the black Yves Saint Laurent dress you bought her all those years ago — brown hair flowing freely past her shoulders as she mirrored your gestures towards the crowd. Watching her fondly, you were reminded of the moonlight that illuminated the surface of the endless ocean; truly God's masterpiece in its purest form. You were frozen in your spot as you stared at her with the utmost adoration and respect.

Then, she finally settled on your eyes and suddenly you felt like a kid again.

"Hello stranger," she said with a sly smile, taking the seat next to yours with the crowd going wild at your first interaction. "Hi Jimmy, thank you for having me."

"Yeah, I'm gonna pretend that you didn't acknowledge Y/N first," he teased, making her and everyone else chuckle. "Anyway, wow, you look wonderful. And so do you, Y/N!”

You grinned, nodding as you try to remember the rough script on how the conversations would go in your head. "Thank you for having me back here, Jimmy, I appreciate it."

"It's the both of you this time," he raised his eyebrow suggestively. "Which is amazing, the world hasn't seen you together in twelve years. Am I right?"

"Yes," she looked at you, heaving out a breath as she laughed. "Sorry, it just feels so weird to see you again."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Suddenly, you were pulled back into past; during the last time you ever saw her in the alleyway behind Stanley's; your favourite getaway restaurant during midnights. Every now and then, you remembered it; the pain from losing her always came back like it just happened and you wonder if you've really moved on.

"We can't keep doing this," she said with tears welling in her eyes. "It's so hard, Y/N, and as much as I love you, our relationship is mentally breaking me."

You shook your head in desperation, cupping her cheeks with both of your hands. "That's what they want, you know that, our fans want us to break up. You don't have to do this, baby, I'm sure there's another way. We can talk to both of our managements —"

She sighed, pulling away from you. Both physically and emotionally. "I've spoken to mine and they respect my decision.

You paused, repeating the words in your head to make sure you heard her right. It felt like she just stabbed you in the back as you gawked at her with defeat in your eyes, shoulders slumping while piecing everything together. "The last time you spoke to them about our relationship was over a month ago, and you're only talking to me about this now? Is that how you've been feeling this whole time?"

Her tears rolled down her face, understanding the betrayal you felt. "It's not just the fans, Y/N, it's literally everything. I barely get to talk to you and see you. How can we both work it out when we can't even create time for each other?"

"I'll do anything for you, my love, just say the word and I will cancel everything - you know that! Every project, every interview, every shoot, literally anything —"

"No, I stand by my decision," she said firmly. "Perhaps, when you and I have achieved all our dreams...then we can work it out. This isn't the right time for us —"

"Four fucking years, Sana," you bellowed angrily, fists clenching. There was pain written on her face from hearing you call her by her name. "From the very beginning, we have been there for each other. What the fuck am I supposed to do without you?"

"Let me go — we'll both be happier without each other."

"No," you shook your head, tugging her closer towards you. However, she resisted. "Please, please don't do this. Don't leave me like this. What happened to forever?"

Her tears rolled down her cheek at the sound of your defeated voice. As much as it hurt her, she had to make up a lie on the spot. "I don't love you anymore. I — there's someone else."

Just like that, all of your hopes and dreams for the future shattered. Without her, the life you built meant nothing.

She really wanted you out of her life and there was nothing you could do about it. Shoulders slumping, you looked down - the thunderous roar of the oncoming storm startled her whilst it had no effect on you. "Okay, I see what you're doing. It's going to start raining, you should go."

She doesn't know whether it was the coldness in your voice or the wind, nonetheless, she shivered. "Y/N -"

"Leave, that's what you wanted, right?" you looked up at her, eyebrows furrowing. "I don't understand what I've done to you to justify what you're doing. I know I don't deserve any of this. If you're going to leave, leave now and never come back. And when I say never, I mean it, Minatozaki Sana."

She nodded her head, turning on her heel with a sob. Tiny specks of rain began to pour down on you, the rest of your world going down with it. You watched her walk away from you as if it were the easiest thing - did she ever really love you?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"I can't pinpoint whether that's a good thing or not, but considering I'm your ex, I'd say that's a bad thing," you joked, rolling your eyes playfully.

She laughed once more, shaking her head at you. You swear that sound never failed to put you on a pedestal. "It's just surreal, I haven't seen you in so long. You look younger than I can remember."

"You never reply to any of my messages," you put your hands up at her as Jimmy bursted into another set of laughter. You didn't know where the confidence was coming from, but you were relieved you were feeling something else other than being constantly nervous. "I'm joking, I don't have her number. I'm sure you don't mind giving it to me after the show, right?"

"God, get a room," Jimmy whined, turning you into a blushing mess. "Before you both propose to each other, Sana, let's talk about the dress you're wearing tonight. Somebody may or may have not told me that you're wearing something very special."

"We'll talk about my number after the show," Sana turned to you, winking; making the heat rise on your face. "Yes Jimmy, this dress is probably my favourite one out of everything - I don't wear it very often, obviously, but this beautiful Yves Saint Laurent piece was a gift from Y/N thirteen years ago."

You stared at her in awe, the way she spoke with so much grace never failed to impress you. The years had done her a favour - life always seemed easier on her than it was on you.

She left you behind, after all.

"Look, I'm just glad you kept it because this archival piece cost me a lot back then," you admitted with the biggest grin on your face as you looked at anyone but her. You couldn't place what it was about her that struck you so forcefully, but you simply couldn't take your eyes off her and you somewhat needed to feel in control of your emotions. "It was our first anniversary, I had just gotten a pretty decent check from Little Women and I wanted to give her something special."

"You got a big check in twenty-nineteen and the first thing you thought of was a dress for your girlfriend instead of a Lamborghini to flaunt on Instagram?" Jimmy scoffed as you and Sana giggled at him. "Get out of here!"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Your anniversary was coming up and frankly, you wanted to give her the world. You were panicking inside; with the amount of things you've gotten her, none of them felt special. You hummed as you sat in Chou Tzuyu's kitchen, patiently waiting for her to acknowledge you.

"You know, if you weren't my friend, I'd have you sent out of my house already," she grumbled in a playful way. "Seriously, I'm telling you that she will love that Saint Laurent dress by Tom Ford."

You sighed, shaking your head. "It's our anniversary though, it's special. Do you think giving her a dress and taking her to Hawaii are good enough?"

"Jesus Y/N, that woman looks at you with stars in her eyes — she will love anything you get her. If you ask her to marry you right now, I believe she will say yes in less than a heartbeat."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The show was going very well, you felt relieved as time went by, and you were actually enjoying the things you found out about Sana after you had broken up.

She went on to become a successful solo artist and fashion model after Twice's disbandment, and you couldn't be any prouder. It had always been her dream and you always knew she was made to be a superstar - you prayed for her to achieve it, even if it meant she would be harder to reach.

You were able to open up about your past; the dark hole you fell into after the breakup — all the women, the legal troubles and the projects that failed because of your behaviour; it wasn't easy to talk about, but somehow, the way she intensely listened made all the fear go away. It would be an understatement to say you haven't felt this comfortable in years — just watching her talk about her passions put you in awe.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You were barely conscious in a suite at The Ritz in Paris, an unlit cigarette resting on your mouth as you scrambled to find the lighter in your pocket. The only thing illuminating the room was that stupid lamp on the office table. And you hated it, you really did, because it was the same model she broke the last time you were here with her.

You felt so warm - breathing heaved and beads of sweat forming on your forehead. And you laughed to yourself because it was pathetic, really. You were all alone in the city of love because the love of your life decided she wanted to move on from you.

And suddenly, the door opened with Jongin appearing from behind it.  "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Kai..." you could barely mutter his name as the world spun around you. "You're here!"

He knelt in front of you, forcing you to sit up. He tapped both of your cheeks worriedly. "Look at me, open your fucking eyes!"

You cupped his face back with a chuckle, everything seemingly softer around the edges. "Eyes open."

"I need you to tell me how much of these pills you had and when," he dangled the two bags in front of you but all you could think of was her face; the way her eyes lit up whenever you told her you loved her and that smile of hers that never failed to put you in a spiral. "Momo, I need you to stop freaking out and call an ambulance right now."

You were lying against Jongin's chest, your vision blacking in and out.

"We're at the Windsor suite at The Ritz, we have called the hotel medic and they're coming," you heard someone frantically say. "Y/N looks really unwell. Please hurry, please!"

There was buzzing all around you, and you smiled to yourself before giving in and closing your eyes. "Happy 27th birthday to me."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"But how are you doing now?" Jimmy asked with a sympathetic look in his face.

"I..." you looked down, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. "I don't think I know who I am anymore after everything. I regret everything that I've done - all the fame and the money, I don't think it was worth losing myself over the superficial things. Then again, rehab and lots of therapy helped me a lot, you know, I always thought I wouldn't make it past 27...but here I am. All thanks to everyone who held me together."

Everyone began clapping in the audience, your cheeks reddening at all the attention. Despite being a nervous wreck, you managed to let out a small smile. You could feel her eyes on you, yet you refused to look again.

"Would you change what happened in the past?"

Deep down, you were aware of the answer to his question. It'll always be a yes. Everything that you have now wasn't worth more than her.  As ridiculous as it sounded, you would've given it all up for her; without her in your life, it always felt like you achieved it for nothing.

It was supposed to be her and you against the world. As much as it sounded wrong, your love for her will always be greater than your dreams.

"Yes, I would've," you pursed your lips, looking down at your roughed up running sneakers. Compared to her look, yours was too casual. If you were younger, you would've been on the same level as her. You didn't belong to each other now, what else was different about her these days? "For most of you who didn't know, the world hated that her and I were together. Everyone criticised each move we did. We were young...really young, it felt suffocating to hear the same things from the public but god, I loved her so much. To this day, I'm firm on my decision that I would've given up on my dreams for her if it meant I could keep her."

You were truly not over what you had, but with everything that has happened after that, you don't think you could let her in again. Not now.

Not when you were still a mess.

She placed her hand on top of yours, gently squeezing it. "If I knew that letting the world find us would ruin what we had, I would've kept you a secret," she paused, looking at you with pure adoration plastered on her face. "For as long as I could have."

Jimmy nodded his head, satisfied with your answers. "Well, that's it for tonight's show everyone. Please give a huge round of applause to our dear Y/N and Sana!"

You stood up, stepping closer towards Jimmy as you wrapped his arms around him, whispering. "Thanks heaps for having us tonight, never thought we'd cross paths again."

He was smiling as if he understood how it felt. "Anytime, Y/N, my wife and I were big fans back in the day."

You didn't respond, eyes following her instead. There was a sudden sharp ache in your chest as you watched her walk away from you, not bothering to look back.

Jimmy noticed the change in your emotions, squeezing your arm in comfort. "Hey, she'll be backstage for another half an hour. Don't let this chance slip away."

You heaved out a sigh, a defeated look on your face. Perhaps, her actions were all for the show, but god, her face said it all — she missed you as much as you missed her. "I can't, Jimmy. I'm a mess. I think I'll always be a mess. Do you think I could leave without her seeing me or knowing about it?"

There was surprise written on his face at your question. "I thought you guys did great out there, don't you wanna rekindle it?"

"No," you frowned. "I still love her...but its been over a decade and a lot has changed. She rejected me the last time I saw her. She seems happier - I'm still working on myself. I can't risk it."

"I understand," he smiled at you with sympathy. "Come, I'll get one of my producers to show you out."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"Sana is here with her rumoured girlfriend," Lisa rasped out, closing the door behind her as she leaned against it - eyes wide and all that. "How are we gonna hide her from Y/N? She's literally sitting outside."

Jennie had horror written all over her face as soon as her eyes landed on your messy face - wonton soup smeared all over your mouth. "Actually...Y/N is here."

Lisa gasped at the sight of you. "I thought you went to order more drinks at the bar!"

You shook your head, standing up. "No, I ordered it through a QR code like I said I would. Where is she?"

"Y/N," Jennie held your hand to stop you. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"I'll be fine, Nini," you smiled reassuringly, rubbing your thumb against her skin. "I just wanna see what she looks like now."

"It's been seven years, Y/N," Lisa deadpanned, arms crossed and still blocking the door out of the private dining area. "She has moved on and so have you."

"We all know that's a lie."

With a mask of disappointment in her eyes, she took a step ahead to get out of your way, her shoulders slumped as she shook her head disappointingly. "This is going to pull you back a hundred times worst."

And it did. You wished you had listened to Lisa because as soon as Sana's eyes landed on yours, her smile faltered and turned into a worried frown. "Not now, Y/N, talk to me when you're sober. And in private."

"I am sober, Sana," you whispered frozen in place, a pang of pain rushing through every nerve end in your body. “Can we talk, please?”

She wouldn’t even look at you. “If you have anything important to say, I don’t want to hear it.”

You felt sick, stomach twisting in more ways than one and a sudden onset of frustration washed over you. “How could you be so cruel?”

She was once the constellations you admired, now the moon weeps at how she dimmed the brightness within you.

“We’re in public!”

“Nobody fucking knows us here,” your frail attempt at choking up your anger was visibly failing. “You know what? Fuck this, whatever. Have a nice life.”

“Y/N, wait,” she seemed taken aback at your outburst, quickly standing up to trail behind you.

“Fuck you, Sana.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The days that followed after your first public appearance became a blur. You were all over the news again, this time, they were all positive things about you (according to your publicists). Many old friends from the industry have been trying to reach out, some wanted to meet up for their own good - however, most were just glad to see you alive and well.

Since your hiatus, you have been away from the public eye; all of your social media accounts remained stagnant. Even the sleaziest paparazzi companies couldn't figure out where you were.

After all, you were and still are one of the biggest names on the industry.

"Here goes nothing," you said as you tapped on the 'share' button. It was a selfie of you in your bedroom - your bookshelf and art collection on the background. The caption was a simple 'this is 34'.

You closed your eyes as you inhaled a deep breath; it was your first post in nearly three years and you feel absolutely terrified. They were definitely going to judge the way you've aged, the books you read and a lot more other things that you should be prepared for and be used to - but you weren't.

Not long after, your phone rang; interrupting (thankfully) you from your dilemma. It was your mum on the other end. "Hey ma," you greet with a grin.

"Your dad, siblings and I wish you the happiest birthday today, my darling. Will you come and see us this year?" she asked with hope in her voice.

"Ma, I was just there last week," you playfully rolled your eyes. "Besides, if I come now, they will figure out where our family home is. And eventually, the public will find out where I live too."

"I know, I know," she hummed. "But you've been celebrating your birthday alone for years now. Why can't you invite your old friends? I'm sure Jongin and Momo and Lisa and Jennie and Jisoo and Jimin and Jungkook and —"

"Okay, okay," you chuckled. "I'm sure they all miss me too but I don't think I'm ready to let people in again. They're all living very busy lives. I enjoy my solitude right now and —" the sound of ringing from your front door cut you off, startled, you moved the phone away from your ear to make sure you weren't hearing things (again). "Uh, there's someone at the front. Must be one of my book deliveries — well, I hope."

"Aren't you gonna open the door?"

"No, why would I? Then they'll find out I live here." However, the doorbell rang once more. "Oh god, what if I accidentally put my location on my Instagram? Ma, I'll call you back."

"Y/N, it's —"

"Bye, I love you!"

You quickly hung up and turned your phone off before padding across your camera room to see who the person on the other side of the door was.

Your breath hitches at the sight of your ex-girlfriend patiently standing outside with a birthday cake on her hand. After a month of not seeing her, your shoulders slumped into a more relaxed state as you take another deep breath; pressing the red button.

"Sana?" you said with hesitation through the speaker. "You have red hair?"

"Hi Y/N," she waved at the camera. Damn that smile. "Happy birthday, please let me in before anyone sees. And yes, I had to dye it for a shoot."

You cleared your throat. "Uh, I'm coming," you walked towards the front door with your lips tucked behind your upper teeth. You pull the wooden door open, revealing the fiery-haired beauty on the other side. Your heart hammers against your chest and your fingers visibly shake as you step away to let her in. "It suits you."

"Thank you," she smiled shyly, looking around your place. "This is a lovely home, Y/N."

"Come," you took the cake off her hands as you walk towards the open kitchen with a view of the forest surrounding your house. "Pretty bold of you to assume caramel is still my favourite."

She frowned. "Is it not?"

You laughed. "No, no, it still is." As soon as you set the cake on the counter, you looked up to meet her gaze. "How did you find me?"

"Your parents," she quickly tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, awkwardly wrapping her arms around her loose cardigan. "I called to see how they were doing."

"And why's that?" you curiously raised an eyebrow, attempting to kill the assumption that she missed you in your head.

She took a step closer towards the counter — the only thing separating you away from her. "Because I wanted to find you," she paused, biting her lip. "After the interview, you disappeared. Just like that. No goodbye, no nothing. Why?"

"Why not?" your tone made her flinch, reminding her of the same coldness you showed her in that alleyway.

"We were doing so well...the interview, I thought you would maybe want to catch up —"

"I did, then I remembered how you broke my heart and then many other thoughts came along after that. Remember when you told me there was someone —"

"An obvious lie, Y/N, there was only you."

A sigh escaped your lips as you avoid her eyes. "For years, I made myself believe that it was true just so I could hate you. And not even a year later, Sana, not even a year, you began dating someone else. A fucking CEO out of all people — a guy who was probably busier than most of us combined; that was such a massive slap in the face considering you told me it wasn't working because of our schedules."

"It was —"

You raised a finger, stopping her. "No, I told you to leave and never come back. I told you that, do you remember?"

"I do," she tilted her head carefully, gaze holding that same familiar hurt all those years ago. "I do, and that's the sole reason I refused to knock on your door again for a decade - no matter how much I begged myself to. I couldn't bring myself to, anyway, not after I hurt you."

"So why are you here?" you asked, voice strained.

"Because I'm still deeply in love with you after all these years, because I believe you're the love of my life and I still want to grow old with you. And I want to love you again if you'll let me, Y/N, please. I love you, that's why I'm here.”

You looked up to find tears pooling in Sana's eyes, she turned away before wiping them away with her fingers. All you could hear was the drumming coming from your chest, your head all over the place once again.

You remembered it so vividly, the moment you wanted to marry her...the cherry red box that was sitting untouched in your safe after all these years. And it hurt.

"Say something, please," she sniffled, pleading you with her eyes as she placed her hand on top of yours - her cold skin against yours now lingering for a moment too long.

"Look at me, Sana," you exasperated, arms flinging wide open. "Look at the mess I am. I've been to rehab more than I can count my fingers. I ruined my own reputation and I hurt so many people along the way. There were days where I could barely breathe, days where I wanted it all to stop. And those days still come every now and then. I have pushed everyone away - even my own family. There's a barrier between me and all of the people I love, the gap will always remain because of the things I've done. And you say you want me?"

"I want you, chaos and all. I have loved you all these years...what's so different about now?"

"Do you know how long has it been since our break up?" you scoffed, pinching the bridge of your nose to stop the tears from coming. "You are in love with the idea of me, not who I am."

"Then let me unravel you once more, Y/N, this is all I'm asking for. I know I walked away when you needed me the most and I'm so fucking sorry, I live with that guilty everyday - god, I was so worried. I didn't sleep for a year when we were 27 because I didn't want to wake up to find out you were dead like everyone else would say. I should've reached out then because I knew that I couldn't live this lifetime without you. I didn't want to, not if you weren't in it. I ask myself why I didn't, but I can never find the right answer. All I know is I'm here now, and I'm never gonna let you slip away ever again."

Your walls began to crumble at her intimate confession. This time, you took both of her hands under yours, unable to stop yourself now. "I was going to marry you but you didn't stick long enough for me to do that."

"W-what?" she stammered, her voice breaking. "You were?"

It felt as if there was a knot wrapping your heart and your chest together, squeezing in a way that it almost hurt to breathe. There were so many thoughts flying through your mind, a million of what would've, could've and should've beens.

She unexpectedly collided her body against yours, making you stumble in your feet. Your hands luckily gripped the edge of the counter, balancing her and you together. Her arms snaked around your waist, engulfing you in a tight embrace as she whispered a million apologies.

"I'm so sorry," she cried, pushing you away with her hands. "Oh my god, how did I fuck this up so bad? I love you so much, why?"

"We both were fuck ups, weren't we?" you chuckled through the tears flowing down your cheeks. "Too young to know how cruel the world was."

"Will you please let me in again, Y/N? Let me fix this. I want you and I want us again. I don't care what they all think.”

"I don't deserve you, Sana, I think I'll only end up hurting you. I've been alone for so long now that if you asked me what love was like, I would only be able to mutter your name and remember what ours was like."

"Like the way I hurt you?" she croaked out, intertwining her fingers with yours - thumb rubbing gentle circles against your cold skin. "We'll work through it, together. I know what I'm walking into, I'm not as naive as I used to be. It won't be easy, but I love you. And I can't let this go - I'll never love again if it's not you."

You braced your hands on her hips, pulling her again. You welcomed her in, arms wrapped around her body - never wanting to let go. You stayed like this for a while; the comfortable silence filling all the missing puzzle pieces in your life. "I'm scared."

"I know," she sighed, rubbing your back with her palms. "I'm here now."

For years, you were lost. But not anymore. She was here now and you were home. Again.

[themultifanshipper]

Can you write a fluffy carcar fic where imagine carlos trying to get oscar into golf? I saw oscar say somewhere that golf is frustrating- but carlos tells him "it's not frustrating, it's about patience" or something like that

He went to the golf course bc lando actually invited him after the wcc and all, and since lando was really insistent and he had time to kill, and he was like sure one afternoon won't hurt. So he goes, there by genuine accident they bump into carlos, and lando didn't think carlos was even back home so he was just as surprised to see him and then carlos ofc joins them but then lando has to leave (how convenient) so oscars suddenly all awkward

BUT THEN CARLOS IS LIKE ITS OK ILL TEACH YOU, ILL MAKE YOU LIKE GOLF

And suddenly oscars all flustered and both of them in their heads are all like "this is nice, omg this is really nice, why is this so nice!?"

Or something along those lines??

Oscar’s mind was going at a million miles an hour.

How he got into this predicament, with Carlos' strong arms wrapped around him while he shivered from the contact, was a mystery.

Warnings: smut, ass eating, inappropriate use of golfing equipment, public sex, kinda wild, i'll be honest there is not much fluff, asking me for fluff is like asking Fernando to retire, it ain't happening.

Lando. This was all Lando's fault.

He'd suggested going out for golf, which he knew Oscar wasn't particularly fond of.

And he was the one that had lost track of time and forgotten that he had a meeting to go to.

He'd also been the one to suggest Carlos join them, after running into the Spaniard by accident.

“It’s december!” he’d said. “We'll be the only ones on the golf course! It'll be fun!” he said. Well that was a fucking lie.

It may not have been high golfing season or whatever, but they ran into two people Lando knew from around Monaco, and Carlos.

The entire situation felt like the setup for a joke, and Oscar felt like he was the absolute butt of it.

Celebrating the WCC? Great idea. Golfing with Lando? Fine, why not. Golfing with Carlos? Not something he wanted to be doing in a million years.

He didn't not like Carlos, but every interaction they'd ever had could be summarised with two words: forced proximity.

Either they came together on track, or they were forced to interact by their mutual friends, namely Lando.

So he wasn't exactly fond of the man, but he tolerated him enough to be civil. And the less time he spent talking to him, the more time he had to check him out from afar.

Bexause he was hot as fuck, Oscar couldn't deny that. He'd caught himself checking his fellow drivers out on multiple occasions, but there were no cameras around now, so he could let his gaze wander a bit more freely.

As soon as Carlos agreed to go along with them, he knew this was going to be a long afternoon.

Golf just wasn't his thing. He’d tried. He'd really tried, he would do anything to please Lando.

But he thought it was a sport for pompous rich pricks who had absolutely nothing better to do with their time and money. He'd never had lessons, and Lando wasn't exactly a great teacher, so his form was shit, and to make matters worse, Lando and Carlos made fun of him for it.

Well excuse him for not growing up fucking rich!

“This is a shit sport!” he raged after missing yet another swing. “I just don’t get why you like it, it's so frustrating!”

Lando was too busy wheezing to reply.

“It is not frustrating, it is about patience. Observe”  Carlos put a ball on his tee, and positioned himself as if he was going to swing.

“You need to shift your weight as you swing, and don't aim for the ball, aim a few inches after the ball. And don't forget the position of your arms, the left one is straight while the right one is at a right angle, otherwise your aim will be all over the place…”

Carlos showed him the movement as he explained it, but Oscar had stopped listening entirely.

His eyes had zoned in on Carlos' arms. He knew the guy was fit, they were athletes after all, but he was absolutely astounded by how fucking enormous Carlos’ biceps were.

They were glistening with sweat under the sunlight as he flexed them. Then his eyes went to Carlos' pecs, which were also flexing, and looked like they were about to pop out of his polo shirt.

He was brought out of his reverie by Lando cursing loudly next to him.

“Shit! Guys I have to run, I completely forgot I have a meeting with my publicist in fifteen minutes!”

He left his stuff with them and sprinted away, promising to be back soon (they both knew he wouldn't, and one of them would inevitably have to drop his stuff off at his apartment).

Oscar was relieved, he could finally be out of this hell hole.

But as he picked up his bag of rented clubs to make his way back to the golf cart, Carlos put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Oh no, Cabrón. We are not done here. I am going to make you a professional if it is the last thing I do.”

Carlos teaching him golf sounded like the last thing he wanted to do, and the older man was smirking infuriatingly, as if torturing Oscar into liking golf was the most fun he could have.

But a part of Oscar was curious. Maybe he could have some fun of his own. He knew Carlos wasn't a particularly patient man. Maybe he could rile Carlos up enough for him to give up.

Making an F1 driver give up on anything was a hard feat, but Oscar liked a challenge.

It was a bit awkward at first, Carlos made him get into position, which he did very wrong on purpose, to try and frustrate Carlos.

But the man didn't even sigh, he just started explaining all about how the handle had to be pointing at his belly button, and his knees needed to be bent, and he needed to twist his shoulders while lifting the club while still looking at the ball, and then he had to-

Oscar had stopped listening again.

While explaining each action, Carlos' hands were moving Oscar's body around like a puppet.

His skin burned wherever Carlos' hands made contact.

And after a while it started getting to him. Carlos' touches were getting rougher, like he was getting sick of explaining and repositioning him over and over again.

But instead of chanting victory, Oscar's brain was slowly frying at the harsh grip Carlos had on his flesh.

They were both sweating in the sun, and Carlos was damp.

He was plastered to Oscar's back, his arms around Oscar's arms, hands gripping the handle over Oscar's hands as he tried his best to explain… whatever it is he was trying to explain.

Oscar’s brain was on one thing only: the hard planes of Carlos' body pressed against his.

The Spaniards breath smelled like the minty gum he'd been chewing earlier, and his mouth was so close to Oscar's cheek he could feel the heat of his breath as he spoke.

He was sweating, and not just from the sun, his body was on fire, and he could feel his blood rushing down from his brain to his nether regions.

Carlos hadn't noticed at first, fully absorbed in his long winded explanation of the subtleties of hip movements to emphasize striking power.

But when he grabbed Oscar's stiff hips to twist and move them the correct way, the younger man gasped out the tiniest of whimpers.

That made Carlos freeze. “Are you okay?”

His hands hadn't moved from Oscar's waist though, and that fact was making his head spin.

Carlos’ eyes followed the movement of Oscar's Adam’s apple as he swallowed before nodding shyly.

The flush creeping up the younger man's neck was enough for Carlos to understand what was happening.

He gave his hips another squeeze. “Oscar…”

The Aussie let out a shaky breath, the way Carlos whispered his name made him close his eyes in embarrassment.

“Yes?” his voice cracked and he closed his eyes, waiting for Carlos to yell at him for being inappropriate, or uninterested in golf, or gay… or something.

But the yelling never came, instead Carlos chuckled darkly and squeezed the flesh of his hips.

“Is my lesson making you too horny to think properly? Pathetic… And ironic given how you seem to be the one trying to distract me with these shorts” he spat, pulling at the hem of the offending shorts, which would be considered indecent to anyone who wasn't Oscar.

But Oscar had a habit of not realising how he looked, and today Carlos was having trouble not ogling his body.

Carlos’ hand barely brushed his bulge, and Oscar whimpered again, looking down to see just how tented his shorts were.

He had no idea he felt this way about Carlos, but here he was, hard as a rock and secretly wishing that Carlos would touch him more.

“Maybe I need to teach you some discipline before you can learn to play properly…”

Carlos nosed at the back of his sweaty neck, pulling his hips back against his own.

Oscar gasped when he felt the hard press of Carlos' cock through his shorts.

“Do not worry, I can teach you everything you need to know” he growled into Oscar's skin, hand sliding around to cup Oscar over his shorts.

That's how Oscar ended up pressed against the front of the golf cart, leaning on his elbows, and doing his best to stay quiet as Carlos ripped his shorts down his legs.

“If I didn't know any better, I would think you were hoping this would happen, given how slutty these shorts are.”

Oscar wanted to protest. They were practical! It was 25 degrees out and excuse him for not wanting to wear fucking chinos to golf.

“They're not sl-” he tried to argue but Carlos landed a harsh spank to the back of his thigh.

He yelped but Carlos scolded him.

“First lesson, no arguing with the teacher.”

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of Oscar's boxers and peeled them off, groaning at the plumpness of the flesh in front of him.

“My god, it's a miracle your ass fits in those shorts at all…” Oscar blushed at the compliment, he knew what his body looked like, he knew he was gifted in that department, but Carlos praising him was turning his brain to mush.

He let out a surprised half-moan half-whine when Carlos spread his cheeks and spat, right on his twitching hole.

The act was so dirty, they were out in the open but Oscar no longer cared, he needed more.

He could feel the cool material of Carlos' leather glove against his overheated skin.

Carlos rubbed the pad of his thumb over Oscar's slick rim, making him keen.

“Lesson two: you have to be quiet or we are going to get caught. Do you want this to be our last lesson?”

Oscar was trembling with need, and his legs were seconds away from giving out if Carlos didn't get on with it soon.

“No! Please…” he whined pathetically and Carlos laughed.

He crouched behind down, spreading Oscar open.

“Then keep your mouth shut”

He licked a stripe from his balls up to his crack, and it took everything Oscar had in him not to moan.

“Good boy” Carlos praised, and dove in, licking and prodding at his tight rim.

Oscar could feel the strong wet muscle opening him up, it was obscene.

He bit his hand to avoid making a noise , he didn't really care about being kicked off the course, but he would rather avoid getting caught, with Carlos of all people. He'd never hear the end of it.

The repetitive feeling of Carlos' tongue breaching him had him gasping into his hand.

He pushed his hips back, his back arching as he fucked himself on Carlos' tongue, and the older man moaned at how quickly Oscar's body was betraying his need to be fucked.

He pulled away to suck a couple of fingers into his mouth, wetting them thoroughly before pressing them into Oscar's slick hole.

Oscar was on fire. Carlos was using his gloved fingers to open him up, and the slick leather sliding into him made him want to rip his own hair out.

Carlos stood up and put a hand on Oscar's lower back to make him arch more, which he did gladly.

Carlos was surprised at how needy Oscar was under him, writhing and gasping every time his fingers brushed his prostate.

Suddenly he had an idea on how to keep Oscar's mouth occupied.

He reached into his pocket, where he had one of those extra large golf balls used for training, and tapped it against Oscar's lower lip.

“Open up, Oscar. You can suck on this to stop yourself making too much noise” and Oscar opened his mouth immediately and stuck out his tongue, taking the ball in his mouth almost too eagerly.

He was submitting beautifully, and Carlos had to unbutton his pants and pull them down, just to take some pressure off his now aching cock.

Once he deemed Oscar ready, he spit on his hand, slicking himself up and pushed in slowly.

Oscar couldn’t hold it in anymore, despite the ball gag, he moaned loud.

“Shit” Carlos hissed, slapping a hand over Oscar's mouth. “You need to be quiet”

Oscar was unable to respond, he was too busy drooling over how well Carlos' cock was stretching him out.

So Carlos took the ball out, accidentally shifting his hips which made Oscar’s eyes roll back and he let out a high pitched squeak.

Carlos then took his glove off, baled it up and shoved it into Oscar's mouth.

He then thrust into him hard enough to make him moan loudly again, and was satisfied when the glove successfully muffled the noise.

Or at least enough so that they couldn't be heard within a few hundred feet.

He kicked Oscars feet apart to spread him further, and slammed into him again.

Oscar was sure he could feel Carlos all the way up to his fucking throat with how deep he was inside him.

The sound of Carlos' hips slapping against Oscar's plump flesh made the two men wild as their bodies made contact over and over again, pushing and pulling against each other.

Oscar was doing his best to push back against the onslaught of Carlos' savage thrusts, but his body was slowly giving up on him.

His knees buckled, and Carlos wrapped his arms around him, pushing him harder against the now searing metal of the front of the cart.

He reached a hand down to wrap around Oscar's leaking cock, squeezing rythmically with each thrust and Oscar was a goner, he came with a muffled wail, painting Carlos' hand white, along with the front of the cart.

Carlos followed quickly after, hips stuttering as he filled the younger driver up, biting his lip to muffle his deep groan.

After a few seconds of trying to regain his sanity, he pulled his glove out of Oscars mouth and pulled his softening cock out of him.

Oscar sighed, leaning his head against the surface with his eyes closed in bliss.

He didn't register Carlos moving around until he felt him lick up the cum that was seeping out of his used hole.

He jolted, gasping as Carlos cleaned him up, lapping up his own cum and overstimulating Oscar to the point where he started wriggling and the Spaniard had to hold him in place.

The lewd slurping sounds were almost humiliating, and he was suddenly acutely aware of how exposed he was.

But that just served to turn him on again, and if Carlos had carried on for much longer, he would have definitely been up for another round.

Thankfully though, he soon deemed Oscar cleaned up of his cum, and helped him pull his underwear and those goddamn shorts back up.

He turned Oscar around and grabbed the back of his neck to press their lips together in a kiss that very quickly turned filthy and they made out for a few minutes, until they were in desperate need of air.

As they panted into each other's mouths, Carlos grinned.

“Rule number three: one lesson is never enough”

Needless to say, Oscar got a membership at that club. And he met up with Carlos every week for lessons, which they did not invite Lando to.

 Lando found that a bit strange, but he wasn't going to complain, he was just happy his two friends were finally getting along.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hobie x deadpool reader or spider reader

Hobie Brown x Deadpool male reader

Headcanons

I love Deadpool, who doesn’t love Deadpool? I tried to think of what Deadpool would be like in Hobies’ earth, and I just feel like he would kinda just be the same as always, except maybe with a metal aesthetic. And any chance to work my favorite music into stuff? I’m taking it.

You were Deadpool, and had been Deadpool for a long time. In the beginning it had just been your musician and artist name. Much of your music was different types of metal, with lyrics focused on judging the system and pointing fingers at its corruption.

Of course, a lot of people hated your music, but there was also those who loved it. One of them being Hobie Brown. Even before he became spiderman, hed always been a very righteous person with strong opinions about corruption and capitalism, so finding an artist who shared his views was great.

That was until you got a little too popular and stepped on the wrong people’s toes with your music and art. When you started pointing fingers at Osborn and his wild corruption, those against you grew more and more violent.

And at one of your biggest concerts to date, one that offered all the proceeds to those in need, you were assassinated right on stage. Theories would go around saying it was Osborn wanting to get rid of you, and telling everyone what would happen if they crossed him.

Panic consumed the arena after you were shot right on stage, and in the panic your body was whisked away. Deadpool became an icon in the anarchist circle, as one of the first to stand up against suppression and never back down no matter what.

Time would pass, Hobie would become Spiderman, and he would fight people like Osborn, even killing the guy with his guitar in the end.

But even after killing Osborn, the world was still in disarray, meaning a lot of work had to be done. So, when someone who went by Deadpool started popping up in stories and rumors, it caught people’s attention.

It was assumed you were just a fan, who wanted to use the legendary name of Deadpool to spread your message, or maybe the honor the original Deadpool. That was until people met you though.

You had the same clothes, only now wearing a mask. Your boots, your jacket, your spikes, and patches, even your guitar, you had it all. And on closer inspection, true fans could see it was the real thing.

You were almost like a ghost of the past, stories would go around that you were the angered spirit of the musician Deadpool, having crawled out of hell to wreak havoc on the upper class and tear out the roots of capitalism.

Hobie would want to meet you of course, you were like his hero and biggest inspiration. The first time you two would meet would be during a fight of some sort, and you’d chuck your guitar across the battlefield to nail a corrupt cop in the head before they could get a lucky shot at Hobie.

After that you two became close like two peas in a pod. Hobie would never treat you like you were someone above him, even though he had admired you for years, because he doesn’t believe in treating celebrities like gods.

Soon Deadpool and Spiderman being spotted together was a common sight, and so was seeing spiderman swing around with Deadpool in his arms or hanging on his back like a koala.

You never really take off your mask in the beginning, but when you do Hobie learns why you keep it on. You have a large scar taking up part of your head where the bullet had blown your head apart all that time ago.

You had apparently always been a mutant with a light healing factor, which had kept you alive, but you had been whisked away from Osborn researchers who wanted to use your healing factor. But in the end, they’d simply boosted your powers and you became pretty much unkillable.

This leads to you taking most of the hits during battle, since you can easily take it, anything you lose will just grow back. That doesn’t stop Hobie from worrying though, because seeing someone get their arm sliced off is pretty extreme.

Your first kiss is something you’d only have with a version of Deadpool. Hobie would be carrying your head after it’s been sliced off, and you would be asking him for a kiss and blowing him kisses from where hes carrying your head.

Now, anyone normal wouldn’t do what Hobie does, but Hobie doesn’t like to fit the mold. So, he would lift your severed but still living head and kiss you on the lips. Cue a make out until your body stumbles over and you can get your head back on.

You two never actually put a label to what you are, because that’s not the type of person you two are. But you two are pretty much dating now. You move into an apartment together, and sleep in the same bed at night, and kiss whenever you want.

Spiderman and Deadpool pretty much become icons in your community, for standing up towards oppression, and also being two hot guys who hold concerts after fights.

[atinylittlepain]

ok so given that the oscars just happened, imagine a joel x actress!reader. before everything went to shit joel was a normal human being who loved watching movies and like any basic person had a celebrity crush. fast forward and the world has gone to shit and joel and ellie (and maybe tommy too) go on a patrol that goes wrong and get saved by miss “i just smashed a guys head in with my oscar” or something like that, just a fluff and fun imagine that isnt gonna break my heart in a million pieces like last nights episode

oh my god, your mindddddd - I love this idea :)

Big Fan

Joel Miller x actress!reader

Joel Miller masterlist

Joel recognizes her right away. After all, she starred in his favorite movie of all time.

warnings | 18+ a little angst, nothing wild, this is fluff through and through

Read part two!

.......................

“Are you–”

“I am.”

“You were in–”

“I was.”

“Well I’ll be damned.” 

“Alright, somebody better start speaking in full sentences, because I have no clue what the hell is going on.” Joel huffs, glancing at Ellie who's looking at him like he’s gone crazy, her gun still cocked at the woman in front of them.

“What? You don’t recognize her, kid? I just showed you Curtis and Viper.” Ellie’s brow furrows, but then she looks back at the woman and her eyes finally widen in recognition.

“Holy shit.” The woman laughs, eyes still focused on the barrel of Ellie’s gun.

“That’s not usually the movie people recognize me from. But I suppose it was my big break.” Joel nudges Ellie, muttering for her to put her “damn gun away, jesus christ,” and she quickly tucks it back in her belt.

He’s trying to not be weird right now, they did just kill five clickers together, but he’s finding it hard not to lose his cool over the woman who had been a silly crush of his since he first saw that cheap action movie as a teenager. He knows she did much better films afterward, remembers hovering behind the couch one night while Sarah was watching one of those awards shows, lingering just a bit longer when he saw her giving an acceptance speech with a blinding smile in a dress that probably cost more than his house. She’s certainly less elegant-looking now, but even after twenty years in a world like this, he can’t help the quick kick of his heart at actually meeting this woman in the flesh.

He clears his throat, also trying to clear his mind.

“Are you alone?” She sighs, wiping the blade of her knife on her jeans before sliding it back into its sheath.

“I wasn’t, and then I was. We were headed toward a settlement we heard about, I think a bit further north from here?” Joel keeps his expression steady, but can feel Ellie glancing at him. Movie star or not, he knows they have to be careful about who finds out about Jackson. But apparently, this woman isn’t just pretty, and she seems to pick up on the heavy pause after what she said.

“Do you two know about the place I’m talking about? Are we close?” Joel, sighs, looking at Ellie before making a decision that Tommy is probably going to smack him for later.

“We, um– we’re from there, actually. If you’re talking about where I think you’re talking about.” She huffs out a laugh, and offers them that megawatt smile Joel remembers seeing on his TV screen. Ellie, meanwhile, scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest as she glares at Joel.

“No shit. Do you think you have room for one more?” Joel’s eyes dart once more to Ellie, just seeing the subtle shake of her head, but he chooses to ignore it. How could he say no to the woman who had, embarrassingly, been one of his first wet dreams?

“You’ll have to talk with my brother, but I’m sure you’ll be welcome to stay on.” Megawatt, megawatt, megawatt. He reckons that smile could melt steel beams.

…

“Joel, what the fuck–”

“Ellie–”

“No, what are you thinking? If not Tommy, Maria’s gonna be so pissed she’ll probably cut your balls off.” He shushes the girl, glancing ahead at the woman hiking further in front of them.

“Look, she’s all alone– hardly a threat– and she’s looking for somewhere to stay–” She scoffs.

“Oh, so this has nothing to do with the way your eyeballs practically popped out of your head just looking at her?” He grumbles, hand tightening around the strap of his rifle.

“You just mind your own business, alright? I’ll take care of it.” Ellie huffs, starting to trudge further ahead of him, but not before muttering out “whatever you say, fanboy.” Joel is stunned still by her words.

“Where the hell did you get that word from?” She turns on her heel, walking backwards for a beat as she smirks at him.

“One of those old magazines. Pretty sure she was on the front page if you wanna borrow it.” Before he can get a word in edgewise, she’s already turning back around and continuing their hike back to Jackson.

…

“Holy shit. Joel, look who it is!” Joel grunts, nudging Tommy out of his starstruck stupor.

“Yeah, I know. Just hiked five miles with her.” Tommy laughs, slapping him on the back before grinning at her.

“It’s real nice to meet you. You know, Joel here had your poster on his bedroom wall–” The nudge he gives his brother this time is a little less friendly, causing Tommy to grumble and rub his arm. She, however, takes it in stride, laughing lightly as she shifts in her boots.

“I’m flattered, really. It’s, um, it’s nice to meet you, Tommy.” Tommy’s eyes go wide.

“I can’t believe you just said my name. This is crazy–”

“Tommy.” Joel cuts his brother off with a hard look before he embarrasses himself anymore. He clears his throat, seeming to get a hold of himself as Joel continues.

“She had been traveling with a group, looking for this place. She’s the only one left though. Was hoping to join the town.” Tommy grins again, glancing between her and Joel.

“Well, I’m sure we can make that happen. I think Joel would kill me if I didn’t let–” He squeezes Tommy’s shoulder hard, willing him to shut his mouth. 

“That little house next to ours is still empty. Why don’t we set her up there?” Tommy’s smile at his brother’s words is all too smug for Joel’s taste, but he still nods, turning his attention back to her.

“If that’s alright with you, ma’am. I’ll let the folks know to turn the gas and electric back on for that place.” She smiles brightly at that.

“That would be amazing. Thank you so much. I owe you all big time.” Tommy snorts.

“I’m pretty sure you can pay Joel back with an autograph, he’d probably cre—“ Joel’s heard enough, resorting to kicking Tommy in the ankle to shut him up. Ellie huffs from where she’s watching their pathetic display.

“Alright, well if you two freaks are done making fools of yourselves, I’ll show her over to that house.” 

…

When Joel gets home, the first thing he does is look at that DVD. He had found it a week or two ago on a patrol shift, left in a hollowed-out RV. Ellie was less than impressed and Maria refused to show it at movie night because it’s so gory, but he held onto it anyways. He can still remember going to see it in the theater with Tommy, both of them too young to get in if not for their friend working the ticket booth. He flips the case over in his hands, and sure enough, there she is on the back cover, looking impossibly beautiful while firing a machine gun. What’s not to like, right?

He’s broken out of his revelry by the sound of the front door opening, and soon enough, Ellie is stomping up the stairs to come looking for him. When she finds him in his bedroom, sitting on the end of his bed, she glances at the DVD he’s holding, a grin spreading over her face.

“Just like you remember, huh, old man?” He grumbles, getting up to set the movie back on the bookshelf before turning back to Ellie.

“She settling in alright?” She hums, nodding lightly.

“Yep, made a beeline for a shower. Told me to thank you. I told her you’d be coming around for your autograph later.” His face crumples in indignation while Ellie lets out a cackle.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. But in all seriousness, I think she’s interested– in you– which pains me to even say, but, I figure you deserve to know that the woman of your pubescent dreams was asking questions about you.” Joel’s jaw goes slack, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead.

“She– she was asking about me?” Ellie nods around a smirk.

“Mmhmm. And I told her you’re a grumpy old bum who doesn’t take kindly to strangers.” He huffs, but she laughs again.

“Sorry, kidding again. I didn’t tell her much. Just that you’ll be around. But if I were you, I’d “be around” sooner rather than later, before the rest of Jackson gets a piece of her. Snatch her up before there’s sweeter bait to bite down on, you know?” He thinks briefly that he needs to see just what sort of magazines this kid is reading, because he can’t quite believe what’s coming out of her mouth. He grumbles, shaking his head at her antics.

“There ain’t gonna be any snatching going on. Just mind your–” She huffs, already walking out of his room.

“Mind my business, yeah, yeah, I know. But think about what I said, old man. Better cast your line quick for this one. My guess is you weren’t the only one who had her poster in your bedroom back before.” 

He’s not letting that kid read magazines anymore.

…

When he steps out on his porch later in the afternoon, fully intent on what Ellie has affectionately started calling his “adult nap time,” he’s interrupted by someone calling his name. He catches sight of her sitting on the porch of the little house next door, waving and smiling at him like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Hey, neighbor.” He tentatively waves back, but that doesn’t seem to satisfy her as she motions for him to join her. He sighs, rather stiffly walking over to her porch and joining her on the bench seat, keeping a very respectable distance between them. Clickers, raiders, general imminent danger, he can handle. Pretty lady? That’s touchy. Pretty lady who he imagined marrying as a teenager? Just put him out of his misery already. He knows it’s ridiculous, that none of that matters now. She’s just as worn and weathered as the rest of them by this crumbled world. But that smile she keeps flashing him might just bring him to his knees.

“I wanted to thank you– for bringing me along. I was, uh, starting to lose hope back there a little bit.” He nods, glancing at her.

“No need for thanks. Just the right thing to do in this world. I’m sorry– about your group. I don’t know what happened, but that couldn’t have been easy being out there on your own.” She shrugs, waving off his sentiment.

“It was barely a group to begin with. Just some folks who happened to get out of the San Francisco QZ together.” His brain is quickly trying to knit together the movie star he remembers from the past and this woman who sits before him now, an obvious edge to her.

“Were you in California? Back when everything…” She nods, her face set in a grim look.

“LA, where else? Now that was a nightmare. I bet the only worse place to be when everything went down was New York. Bodies everywhere. Don’t think I’ll ever forget it.” She lets out a humorless laugh before glancing at him.

“That movie you like so much? I remember when I got the role, I had no idea how I was gonna pull it off. Grizzled heroine with a dark past and a penchant for violence. I was nothing like her. But now, I feel a whole lot more like her and a whole lot less like me.” She sighs, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I dumped that on you.” Joel is quick to shake his head, leaning over his thighs to catch her gaze.

“No, no. I get it– in my own way, I guess. The world changed and– we had to change with it.” That coaxes a crooked smile out of her as she looks at him. A simple silence descends between them as they share quiet smiles. She finally giggles, scrunching her nose at him.

“That girl– Ellie? I think she said something about you wanting an autograph?” Joel can feel the hot blush creeping up his neck as his face goes slack. She just splits out in a laugh, tipping her head back in delight.

“I’m sorry, I’m kidding. But, you know, what I went by, what people still call me, that isn’t my real name.” Joel’s eyebrows quirk up and she sighs, shaking her head.

“Just a stage name. I don’t really mind people calling me that, but can I tell you my real name?” He can feel the smile tugging at his mouth as he nods. Before he knows what she’s doing, she’s taking his hand into her lap, slowly tracing out her name with her finger across his palm. An autograph, of sorts. He’s pretty sure his brain short-circuits, just barely stringing together her name as she finishes. He murmurs it lowly and she offers him her brightest smile yet, still holding his hand lightly in her own.

“And you’re Joel, right?” He’s only a little embarrassed by how quickly he nods.

“Mmhmm. Miller– Joel Miller, yep.” She lets out a breathy laugh, now clasping his hand in a firm shake.

“It’s nice to really meet you, Joel Miller.” 

[himegureisu]

The Gift

Summary: Out of nowhere, your husband receives a gift from you.

A/N: This came to me last night after thinking of what type of mail people receive. Here's one I hope you enjoy.

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

The Owl Postal Service in Hogwarts was, if not, consistent in their delivery time.

This time being, the hour after breakfast started for everyone to ensure that no disruptions, except important missives, were to be received during class hours.

Your tawny barn owl sailed through the Great Hall, over the heads of students and staff, and landed on the High Table in front of its’ intended recipient, your husband, their dark and grumpy Potions Professor, Severus Snape.

It was uncommon for the Potions’ Professor to receive anything but Potions’ ingredients, his usual Potions’ Journal subscription, or official mail either from the Ministry or the Order so the package, a neatly wrapped gift in royal green paper, silver ribbon, and a tag attached, accompanied by a letter in your distinct handwriting was bound to attract attention.

“Is there a special occasion?” the Headmaster’s eyes twinkled upon the sight of the young Potions’ Master quite confused,

“No,” Severus answered, “Not that I know of,”

His thoughts a mile a minute through his brain, slowly, internally panicking. His eyes locked at the present in front of him. Did he forget YOUR birthday? God no, you’d thoroughly celebrated every time the day came around. Did he forget his birthday? Did he forget an anniversary? Did he forget a muggle holiday that you loved to celebrate? No, so what was this doing here?

“It’s wrapped beautifully,” Minerva remarked, from across Dumbledore, “Will you open it?”

He does. First, the letter.

“Sev,” your voice echoed through his brain, “I know you’re probably trying to think of any reason why I would send a gift to you on a normal day.”

You know him far too well.

“Just stop. Do I need a reason to send a gift to the one I love when I feel like it?” a soft smile slowly formed on his lips as he read that line, his colleagues’ interest piqued at the change, “It’s from our holiday and other events, I hope you like it. I know I did. I love you, I’ll see you when I get home,”

Your letter was swiftly tucked in his robes after then taking the package from your owl. Severus proffered a treat for them, and they happily ate before it perched itself on his shoulder. His hands gently tugged on the silver to unwrap the gift.

His initials and yours, on the cover of a leather-bound enchanted photo album.

On the first page of your story, the title page, if the album was a muggle document, was a candid photo from your most recent vacation. Your arms wrapped around his. His figure was behind yours in a hug. Your faces were engulfed in laughter after a guide failed to land a joke against him.

“Oh,” Severus whispered, Your gift was amazing. How did he get so lucky to deserve you?

“That’s a rare sight,” Filius said, by his right, “Severus smiling and speechless,”

“She’s beautiful, Severus,” Albus complimented,

“We look forward to meeting her,” Minerva said,

Their words fell on deaf ears.

Beneath the photo album, in a frame, there was another photo of the both of you from afar. This moment was captured by a charmed camera that you didn’t even know was there until after it happened. In the wilds of Wizarding Britain, on your first date, underneath the stars, he’d kissed the back of your hand, admitted his affections, and asked if he could kiss you. To which you shyly agreed, and received the sweetest kiss you’d ever experienced.

This he could place on his desk. The others were not up for public consumption.

“If you’ll excuse me, Professors, I must send a response,”

[the-kr8tor]

So, you get a new request so. New news reporter R on an intership x actor hobie. Its where he is on the red carpet and r is trying to get a conversation with one of them but keeps getting pushed around and hobie takes notice and then you can choose what else to do. Just thought an idea for a starting point could help ya you know. You have free creative control :DDD

Hehehehe actor! Hobie hehehehe 😍 thank you for requesting muah 😘❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, actor! Hobie, actor au, brief mention of an injury, interviewer! R, fluff

Navigation

Your head swims with anxiety as you wait beside the red carpet. Camera flashes flicker in and out, the lights are brighter than the sun, making you think that it's daytime when it's already close to ten pm. Even the high pitched screams are ringing in your head.

When you first got there earlier than usual to capture some extra snapshots of the event and to get a place near the bannister separating the media and the stars, it was all exciting. Now you can't wait to go home and have a cup of warm tea and lay in bed. But alas, being new at your swanky magazine job means that you have to do all the grunt work. You're not the one going one on one with celebrities, or even getting a full segment with them on the carpet like a famous coworker of yours. No, you're on the side, pining for even a moment of the celebrity's attention while you're dodging the paparazzi’s huge camera lenses, and trying not to get your feet stomped on by other media competitors. You swear you're about to conk someone's head with your microphone when their shoulder bumps into you too harshly.

Sighing, your camera man, James, and a fellow new hire, looks at you like he's about to run away from the scene and go to the nearest chicken shop instead.

A cherry red motorcycle suddenly appears, parking near the entrance of the event. Its rider is wearing a sleek helmet dotted with stickers and spray paint. The crowd goes wild at the mere sight of him, already knowing who's getting off the famous bike.

“You better get ready.” James nudges you as he readies his camera. “All we had was an interview with a stunt double and the main girl's best friend.”

You clutch your mic tighter. “Trust me, I'm ready. Hobie Brown isn't slipping off my grasp—!” The rowdy crowd pushes and rams towards you, almost crushing you between James and the bannister. “Shit, calm down!” The screams get louder as Hobie takes off his riding gloves, and then his helmet, revealing his handsome face. You swear you saw him grimace at the frantic crowd for a millisecond.

“Hold on! Fuck!” James tries to shield you from behind as more and more paparazzi clamor to get a picture of him. “He's not all that!” He exclaims, lifting up the very expensive camera in his hands. “You okay?”

You've managed to wiggle your hand in-between your stomach and the hard railings. A desperate attempt to protect yourself from the onslaught of screaming fans and paparazzi.

“I'm—” you wince, getting pushed more towards the metal. “Fucking stop! Where's security!?” The pushing gets too rough, and the railings in front of you shakes under the weight, tethering close to falling over.

“Oi oi!” Hobie bolts towards the carpet, stopping in front of a distressed you, pointing at the crowd. “Stop that!” When no one makes a move to stop pushing, he pushes the crowd back by himself. Finally prompting the security’s attention for some crowd control. “You're bloody crushin' her!” Is he talking about you? You're sure he's talking about you.

You look at him through your lashes, seeing him up close and personal. Now you get why some people faint after meeting him in person. The spotlights shine behind him, his honeyed eyes are full of determination as he helps push people away from you without a single worry for his red carpet outfit.

Finally, after what seems like hours, the pressure behind you diminishes and you can finally breathe. James pats your shoulder, panting in place. You nod thanks to him as you catch your breath.

“You alright, love?” Your more famous coworkers weren't joking when they said that their legs turned to jelly when they first heard his voice. His palm rests gently on your bicep, eyes soft and concerned. “You want some water?”

You exhale, swallowing down your nervous laughter. “Y-Yeah, please.”

“I'll get you some—” he turns and there's already someone with a walkie talkie handing him a bottle of water. “Thanks,” he nods at them before turning back towards you and opening the bottle for you. “Perks of bein’ famous. Here.”

You take it gladly, his warm fingers brushing against your own. “Thank you, Hobie— Mr. Brown.”

“Do I look like a Mr. Brown, love?” He gestures towards himself, pointing out his very punk red carpet outfit complete with his signature leather and spikes. It's definitely something you don't see everyday on the red carpet, especially the fishnets.

You almost choke on your water, coughing and covering your mouth. “S–Sorry, Hobie.” Coughing some more, Hobie pats your back with a lopsided smile.

His eyes turn sharp suddenly at the man beside you, glaring at the stranger. “Get your bloody foot off of her.” He says in between his teeth. You didn't even feel it, but Hobie saw it, immediately pushing the man away before you could unscramble your thoughts.

James films on the side, grinning at the interaction. He's definitely going to get that promotion. Hobie turns to him while you're trying not to cough out your whole lung. His hand is still on you to the disappointment of his obsessed fans.

“You need water too, mate?”

“No thanks, unless you're signing it, Hobie.” James jokes, earning a chuckle from him.

“Just ask, bruv, I'll sign it.” Hobie cranes his neck over to you again, practically seeing stars in your eyes now that you've settled down. “There you go, love, you look stunnin’ when you're not gettin' crushed.”

You giggle nervously, trying not to get lost in his eyes. “Um, can I interview for a second?” You mentally facepalm, you could've said something better, anything, and yet you chose that.

“I fancy a bird who takes the opportunity when it drops on her lap.” Hobie winks at you, at *you. You still can't believe it. The crowd behind you runs wild as if it was directed at them. “Ask away.”

You clear your throat and your thoughts. “Who are you wearing?”

“This ol' thing?” He lifts up the red plaid skirt like he's about to greet the queen. As if he'll do that. “A childhood mate of mine designed it for me. They don't want to be named though, said they're only doin’ it ‘cause I kept askin'” Chuckling, he leans against the railings to stay comfortable under all the scrutinizing eyes.

To your rivals’ dismay, he continues the interview with you and you only even when they're screaming to get his attention.

You smile gently at him, not the kind of polite smile you robotically give. But the kind you're genuine about, something that you give to close friends or family. “You two must be close.”

His eyes sparkle under the light, your question must've been a rare thing for him during these events when people only ask about him and rumours circling around him.

“Yeah, been mates since we were eatin’ glue.”

“You ate glue?” You joke, and he beams at your laugh.

“Who doesn't?” He feels comfortable and carefree around you. Unlike the other interviewers who only ask the same ten questions and make him feel bored out of his mind.

“I didn't.” You giggle, as if you're just joking with an old friend.

“I guess that's why you're smarter than me, the glue didn't reach your brain.” He taps his temple, all the while smiling at you.

“How would you know that I'm smart? You're the one with the masters.”

“I do?” He feigns naivete. “See, you know everythin'.”

Laughing with him feels like the most natural thing in the world. And he feels the same with his eyes crinkling in the corners and hand placed next to you on the bannister. But alas, the conversation had to end with his manager urging him to continue walking down the carpet.

“Wait, hold on, Ned.” Hobie keeps his eyes on you even though his manager is looking more and more irked. “Do you have a one-on-one with the cast later?”

“Uh no, that's not really my job. Not yet anyway.”

“What do you say that I slide you and your cameraman in, hm?” He hopes you'll say yes so he could talk to you more.

You swear your heart jumped out of your chest like in the cartoons. “Yes— absolutely that would be an amazing opportunity, thank you!”

“Nah, thank you, love, you're the only one worth talkin' to in this business.” He points at your microphone. “Good thing too, your mics off by the way.” With a smirk, he leaves, and the camera shutters follow him.

You stare in horror at the mic in your hands. “Fuck.” You whisper, and James tries not to groan loudly.

“At least we got the gig right?”

[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

I’ve been so excited for more sumeru content! We were treated with an odd textual mystery but now we’re being fed again! I love this cast so much, so i've broken down my thoughts having finished nahida's birthday event <3

the birthday surprise for nahida is so sweet and so well deserved, and I’m so glad we’re finally get to celebrate it in-game especially after her birthday letter last year

dehya getting inspiration for the birthday surprise by talking to dunyarzard… yeah, I know what you are

candace, my beloved, hangout when? It was really nice to spend some time with her one on one, and to see her being a pro haggler due to her efficiency in being a guardian, enough so that she bested dori? Amazing, capable, practical, I love her

candace’s ancestry is so !?!?! interesting to me, and the fact that her being a descendant of the people of king deshret is something that I would love to see explored in relation to the temple of silence? hoyoverse... i am begging... (also the traveller for once not have access to some mystery power,, its funny to me, candace is the main character here)

cyno seeing hat guy and saying, oh sethos has talked about you, as if cyno hasn’t already technically met hat guy in the Interdarshan championship… no, instead cyno knows him through sethos talking about him, oh……

haikaveh’s first appearance being labelled as ‘suspicious’ because they are having a private conversation in an alley is something that is so… sethos’s voiceline is so relevant here I fear, okay queercoding <333

Alhaitham telling paimon that her jumping to dark conclusions says a lot about her mindset, it’s FUNNY!! But I am making parallels to kaveh’s mindset pre-and-during a parade of providence, I am once again asking for clarification hoyoverse, kaveh second hangout pls

HAIKAVEH FLASHBACK!! Making a record I see, with a flashback in their home in cyno’s second story quest, and now in port ormos, there’s just something so special about getting to see these little fragments into their daily lives together

The line ‘Like I said, that's not it! We have more than just a heartless, transactional relationship... You're overthinking the whole thing!’ is VERY interesting, since we’re given no context as to what this is about until alhaitham’s following line, this reads as kaveh’s perspective on his and alhaitham’s relationship, and I think that’s um interesting(!!) given his previous thoughts on why Alhaitham offered him a place to live!

Sick… I think its sick…. Kaveh yapping to alhaitham about mehrak coming up with wild theories, Alhaitham says that mehrak could feel extorted, and then calls out kaveh being in port ormos and having found him, while he’s supposed to be working,,, as if he hasn’t been ENCOURAGING kaveh the whole time??  Can you say fond!!!

Kaveh wanting to show Alhaitham his proposal, and Alhaitham saying that he thought kaveh is confident in his abilities, is something that is so gentle and supportive

kaveh replying by saying that he does have confidence in his abilities, but he wanted to confirm something with Alhaitham anyway, and then pursuing this further by seeking alhaitham’s opinion on his proposal – it’s so notable on kaveh’s part how much their relationship has progressed, as he now actively seeks Alhaitham out!!

Kaveh wanting to show Alhaitham the plans for the route of the flower carriage, saying he’s glad to have run into him, reminds me of an odd textual mystery where kaveh says he’s been looking for Alhaitham everywhere, and them serendipitously meeting in port ormos is giving ‘the universe is playing tricks on us’, a destined reunion, how can I be normal

Every single time we see haikaveh in canon hoyoverse is insistent in furthering their intimacy, wdym kaveh programmed mehrak to recognise alhaitham’s voice!?!?!?! This scene further establishes how important mehrak is to kaveh, and by kaveh wanting to have mehrak recognise and know Alhaitham as he knows kaveh is something that is so soft I think

Mehrak leaving to go and find coffee beans, okay youre a family we get it, the haikaveh coffee motif is something that is so meaningful to me, I’ll have to make a post about it at some point!

Faruzan showing her ‘true senior’ status to avoid being caught by nahida and scolding kaveh, for him to be :(((??? i love them

kaveh lies about not having the plans, and then uses Alhaitham as a scapegoat - ‘The plans... Oh, I almost forgot! My friend has them! That guy's always causing trouble, hahaha... I'll fetch them in a bit.’ Kaveh’s friend?? His FRIEND?? We have officially come full circle from kaveh denying this association in alhaitham’s character quest! I have MANY thoughts about this!! I’ll share them when I get the chance!

Nahida offering kaveh guidance and advice is something that is so <3333

King deshret and goddess of flowers lore mention!!! Also candace having heard their voices because of the power of the wedjat eye is !! intriguing to say the least, since they seemed to be planning the birthday celebration, just like the cast in the present. cyclical occurrences, oh im sick. The wedjat eye being placed in the custody of the temple of silence makes me hopeful for a future event exploring the temple of silence in more detail (im hanging on by a thread)

The fulfilment of sethos’s and the wanderer’s voiceline about each other. wdym people told sethos to fetch the wanderer because they know that they have a personal relationship?? Sethos saying he knows the wanderer pretty well now, commending him on his achievements, and the wanderer giving in and following sethos to the celebrations because sethos asked?? Sumeru… I know what you are!!!!!

Taking a picture to commemorate the moment of happiness in place of the wedjat eye and nahida saying that experiencing everyone’s kindness and warmth was like being a bird tucked in a nest, contrasting with her motif of a bird locked in a cage, now she is safe and secure? This is so beautiful?

This event was so fun to play through! Seeing characters from other sumeru quests, the exploration of sumeru’s history, and the development of characters and events that could lead to future storylines, I’m so grateful for being fed <3 HAPPY BIRTHDAY NAHIDA!!

[thelov3lybookworm]

White Roses And Lies.

Summary: Rhysand and Y/n realise they might not make it to starfall. They make the most of what they have to celebrate.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: im convinced rhysie poo is going to murder me because all the fics i have ever written for him are sad 😇

Anyways, this is a lil smth for the third prompt for @starfallweek

(also you can all fault @thehighladywrites for making me hurt rhysie poo because she picked him to be hurt)

Enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Y/n glanced up from where she was picking chamomile from the wild bushes in her backyard, her eyes squinting to make out the shape materialising out of nowhere.

"Rhys? Is that you?"

No sooner had the words left her lips that he appeared fully, stumbling forward.

A wide smile split her lips, and she moved too, just happy to see her lover.

It was just one moment before the two of them were wrapped in each other's embrace, but it was enough for Y/n to realise that he did not have the big smile he usually had on when he met Y/n.

He looked haggard, like he hadn't slept or eaten in decades, but what scared Y/n more was the fact that those were tear stains on his cheeks.

He crushed her to his chest, his arms wrapped so tight around her it was hard to breathe. Concerned, Y/n tried to push away from Rhys.

He wouldn't let go.

"They're hunting us." Rhys spoke directly into Y/n ear, pressing his face into her hair.

Y/n froze, her struggle to breathe now forgotten.

"W-what?"

If possible, he pulled her even closer. "My father. He told his courtiers to hunt us. You and me."

All of a sudden, it all clicked for Y/n.

She didn't even bother to pull away from him and ask for an explanation then. She just wrapped her arms around him, and let her head rest on his shoulder, under his jaw.

After all, she knew low born fae and high fae, especially a high lord's heir, were never supposed to even talk, let alone be involved.

She'd always known it was all a moment's bliss, but who could have faulted her for having hope?

"We were always doomed." She mumbled into the expensive fabric of his shirt, a tear escaping her left eye and staining the fine material.

She felt Rhys shaking his head against her, and her heart clenched when a torturous sob ripped out of him.

"Why Y/n?" He questioned, his voice wobbling and choked with tears. "Why us?"

She said nothing, because there was nothing to say. She simply rubbed his back, and let him cry.

"Why couldn't we have been an example that the class system was bullshit? Why could I not have had a better father? Why could I not have been born as a lower fae-"

"Rhys."

"Why did he find out about it? Why-"

"Rhys-"

"Why hasn't he fucking died yet? Why-"

"RHYS!"

He stopped then, stiffening a little.

"Rhys please." Y/n's voice broke, and he finally loosened his hold on her. She quickly drew in a deep breath, her first full one since Rhys had showed up, and looked up at him.

She did not let go of him, but leaned back so she could see him better.

"Its starfall." She smiled a little as she spoke, but apparently that was the wrong thing to say, as another tear escaped those eyes that had captivated her since the moment hers had met them.

"Exactly. I was planning on sneaking away to meet you once the stars started making the journey, and he found me. He broke my mental walls, and he found out."

Y/n swallowed, looking around for anything to help her. She found a flower staring back at her.

A white rose.

The white rose he had gifted her once he had started courting her, one she had decided to plant.

Quietly, she untangled herself from Rhys and walked over to study it. He followed her like she knew he would.

"Do you remember when you first gave me this rose?"

A smile bloomed on his face just like everytime she reminded him of that day. "I can never forget it."

Her face split too at the sight of his happy face. "Me neither."

He stared a the flower a moment longer, then turned to her, the look on his face knowing. "You're trying to distract me, aren't you?"

She grinned sheepishly. "I mean, whatever works, right?"

He laughed, the sound wet and full of sorrow, yet so full of joy as he sat back, his arms coming to rest on his raised knees.

"Y/n... I hope you know I love you. That no matter what tomorrow holds for us, whether they do hunt us down, I will love you forever. Even when I'm nothing but bones and dust in the wind, I'll be yours."

Y/n had to look away at that in order to stop herself from breaking down.

"I do. I love you too Rhys, more than you can know. More than words are capable of expressing."

Rhys glanced up, towards the clear sky, just as a star shot past.

His eyes lit up. "Look!"

Y/n followed his gaze, nodding and laughing at the childlike glee in his voice.

"Starfall has begun." Y/n mumbled, laying her head on his shoulder.

Suddenly, his demeanour changed. "This could be our last starfall."

Y/n sighed. "So let's enjoy it Rhys."

She knew he had a retort at the tip of his tongue, so she pulled away, meeting his eyes as she began pushing him to the dirt so he would lay down.

"It's our last starfall Rhys, so let us enjoy it." She stared at his eyes intensely to make sure he understood. "Hmm?"

He nodded, and she smiled again, laying down next to him, uncaring that her clothes were getting dirty as she lay her head on his chest.

His heartbeat was calm, so at odds with the erratic rhythm it had beat when he arrived.

And so, there, in the middle of nowhere, on the hard ground in front of Y/n's small hut, under the star filled sky, Y/n got lost in the soft sounds of Rhys's breathing.

And sure, those were the sounds of warriors and fae males who served the high lord coming closer, and those were definitely the barks of the hunting hounds, but here, nothing existed other than Y/n and her lover.

Not an heir, not a high born fae. Not a low born fae, not the scum stuck under the boot of the higher ups.

Just him, and her.

And as she felt his presence in her mind, grabbing hold of her conscious, she smiled and closed her eyes- the white rose twinkling in the light like an enchantment her last sight, a testament to their love- content and satisfied despite the unexpected and quick end to their story.

Go to sleep my love. I'll be there when you wake up.

Y/n didn't point out that she knew it was a lie, for right now, that was all she needed as she lost herself.

Lost herself in the sound of his voice in her mind, his scent in her lungs and his love in her heart.

•○🌑○•

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175 @starsinyourseyes @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady

@artists-ally @riddlesb1tch @clairebear08 @thehighladywrites @berryzxx

[anoant-haikyuu-dump]

Timeskip Nekoma HC dump

The restaurant Fukunaga works at part-time is a hibachi grill, whenever the team does a group meet up they all go together and he gives them the full show. They cheer and whoop as if they're in an actual stadium, no other group pops off for the onion volcano quite like them. Kuroo tries to explain the science behind all the tricks but Yaku and Tora shut him up fast ("Oh my god stop talking, you’re ruining the meat with all that yapping")

Kenma uses his friends for stream content whenever they’re in town. Chat is constantly baffled at how many celebrities he went to high school with— a model, a comedian, several pro volleyball players, a high ranking member of the JVA?? Its all fun and games until they start exposing Kenma’s high school secrets, Kuroo stoops so low as to pull out the childhood photos and gets kicked out. Tora's a pretty regular guest and chat's favorite punching bag (to be fair he's really fun to bully with how easily provoked he is). Ironically some of chat's favorite guests are two of the non famous ones— Kai because he's super chill and Inuoka cause he has such contagious energy

Whenever any of them see one of Lev's billboards or magazine covers in the wild they take a picture with it and send it in the group chat. When they're out with him in person and see one they love making a big deal about it to embarrass him but this only feeds his growing ego

Kuroo's constantly hooking his friends up with free volleyball tickets and flying them out when something cool is going on, same with Lev/Fukunaga when they have shows and Kenma with conventions. Inuoka, Teshiro, and Kai's bosses are always like "How can you afford so many front-row tickets and business-class flights?!" and they're just like "friends are loaded."

Fukunaga makes more than enough from his comedy gigs but he keeps working his restaurant job because it gives him the best stories. The amount of insane customers he gets in a single night is enough to fuel entire shows, plus his boss is chill and lets him take home leftovers ingredients (which he uses to cook dinner for himself and Tora after he gets off practice)

Inuoka is THE babysitter, not just for the Nekoma alums but for anyone who remembers him from hs. He's great with kids, especially young ones cause he has enough energy to keep up, and the volleyball parents love that he practices with them. In addition, a lot of the students Teshiro and Inuoka work with are avid Kodzuken fans so the two of them make sure to snag a bunch of autographs every time they visit. One time for fun Kenma drops by unanncounced and the kids flip their shit

[onestepbackwards]

It would be so funny if the player could still send texts on their arc phone and decided to send every complaint directly to Arceus

Everything from "Those ungrateful bastards banished me" to "My tummy hurts :("

Bonus points if they hand the phone over to Volo or Ingo and let them rant at god for screwing them over

Tbh if it were me I would let Arceus know every single inconvenience I had with being thrown into the past with no warning.

You let Arceus know no peace, making it very clear of your feelings on the matter.

[There is a leak in my room. You know what didn't have a leak? My old home.]

[They deadass are sending me into the wild??? On my own?? Assuming I have no experience?? They want me dead, Arceus.]

[THEY DONT HAVE COFFEE]

[Why do I have to fight the big scary pokemon?? WHY IS IT A STRANGERS JOB-]

[I think Cynthia's ancestor is stalking me.]

[I REACHED TEN STARS FUCK YEAH]

[WHY do I have to solve this village's problems. How am I the only one doing anything to help here.]

[WHY IS THE TRAIN GUY FROM UNOVA HERE.]

[ANSWER ME ARCEUS.]

[ISNT THIS GUY A CELEBRITY???? ARCEUS. HOW LONG HAS HE BEEN HERE-]

[When i invent mac n cheese, its over for these assholes.]

[Do you think I could piss Cyrus off by adopting his great great grandmother as my own mom?]

[They fucking banned me, Arceus.]

[AFTER EVERYTHING I DID-]

[Volo is def stalking me btw. WHY is he the only one wanting to help me besides the nice lady who also looks like Cynthia-]

[THE SKY IS RED.]

[Did Kamado seriously send Beni to assassinate me or did I just hallucinate that whole encounter.]

[WHY IS IT I KEEPING MEETING PEOPLE WHO WANT TO DELETE THE UNIVERSE WITH GIRATINA]

[If i had a dollar for every time this has happened, i'd have two dollars. It isn't a lot, but its weird its happened twice-]

[HOW COME HE GETS LIKE THE EQUIVALENT OF 8 POKEMON AND I CANT]

[If you had just said hi to him we could have avoided me almost dying TWICE.]

Arceus almost never responds unless you have a genuine question, or need help. But you do find solace in complaining to it.

You later tell Volo that hey, like, you know things are kinda awkward, but you have a means of directly messaging Pokemon God-

He's shaking as you hand him the phone and show him how to use it. At first, Volo for once, doesn't know what to say. He had dreamt of unloading his problems onto Arceus many times, but now?

He is almost at a lost for words.

That is, until you reach around him, showing him your previous conversations.

"Yeah, see here? I kinda bitched at Arceus last week because I'm still not allowed to go home yet. I kinda just use the chat to vent about things most of the time."

Volo stares for a moment, until he's furiously typing. He doesn't stop typing for a good few minutes, sending one very long, winded message, before handing the phone back to you. It's the longest message you have ever seen sent on your phone

The merchant is awfully quiet after that for a little while.

[aranarumei]

What do we thing of the few and far between Niibashi and Hirano interactions?

[ask me about any two ssmy charas and i'll give my thoughts on their dynamic, real or imagined]

he’s so relatable. If I knew my friend was crushing on someone I’d already feel weird meeting them. if I knew the extent of the wildness of hirano to kagiura I would be unable to function normally. niibashi’s a trooper.

so basically I think he’s overly conscious of hirano! which is kind of neat because he usually seems like a guy who’s like. blunt and self-assured and cool. it’s hard for him bc kagiura talks about hirano SO MUCH, so he’s got this whole perception of a guy that he doesn’t know, and he’s aware its colored in some sense, but he also doesn’t know exactly what hirano’s truth is. and that’s confusing for him because I think he’s got a sense of responsibility of like. I must not let kagi get caught up in daydreams. 1) he’ll get hurt and 2) they’re roommates and that could get so badly complicated, so let’s make sure hirano’s comfortable. but a lot of that second point is also motivated by like. kagiura likes him SO MUCH, I’ve got to treat him well. a biased self-interest towards wanting kagi to be. successful / happy etc. what a wonderful friend he is.

but because of this Awareness, there’s also a sense of embarrassment and avoidance. it’s almost like. if I met a celebrity I’d talked about I’d get so embarrassed like. HELLO. You’re not supposed to know me!!! let me analyze your thing in peace. I’m not for you to look at. You see this when niibashi jolts at hirano’s presence and then gets the hell out of there after giving him the sewing kit—he’s cheering on kagiura, but also he doesn’t want to touch that with a ten foot pole bc it feels weird to intrude on their space? third-wheeling is awkward. I mean u see this in ch 24 when kagiura runs off and niibashis like DON’T LEAVE ME HERE??? in his head and then hirano also steps out and he’s like what the fuck do I do. I’m not gonna start up conversation w/ whoever this guy (sasaki) is. and then he just heads to the gym. speaking of, there’s a bit there where he sees hirano scolding sasaki and is like. THIS is the “super kind” hirano-san? guy was probably envisioning a blond angel at first so I think that adjustment to reality is messing with him.  

so if they interacted For Real, I think at first it would be hard and awkward bc niibashi would be put off-kilter by KAGI’S HUGE CRUSH hanging over them (basically the current state of affairs). after kagihira couple up though. I think niibashi would say something like “you guys are so annoying” and then get extremely embarrassed that he did that in front of hirano. bc its normal to nag at kagiura like that but not so normal to do that with a senpai. he’d be the type of guy who’d wanna be careful around hirano and then get embarrassed if he was naturally harsh or blunt in the kind way he is. and that wanting to be careful makes him unsettled. probably with enough time he would get comfortable, but I don’t think he & hirano have like… similar interests or demeanors, so I don’t really think anything like “oh my boyfriend is better friends w/ my friend than I am” would happen? still, at the end of the day they’re both thoughtful people who love kagiura. they’ll do fine.

[comicalfont]

Undertale is for Everyone

Happy Valentine's Day! Yesterday marked five years since the day I first started playing Undertale. It's led me to dwell on what exactly I would say the game has meant to me, with how loaded a question that is. There's so much I owe to Undertale, and the joy it's brought me is something everyone is as deserving to be a part of. Despite some recent fandom events, all members of the fandom need to know that the game celebrates and welcomes them with open arms, which I'll get to more in a bit.

I first played Undertale at a period in my life with a lot of unanswered questions, both for present me and future me. I'd managed to not give it a try in the first few years it was around, but after running into enough Deltarune fan content in the wild when it came out, I played Chapter 1 and loved every bit of the atmosphere and characters, and I wanted to play Undertale right after. After accidentally killing Toriel and starting over, I was immediately drawn into the story it told and the friendships I was making. My appreciation of Sans was there from the start, and here I am, many reader fics with him later, and the rest of the main gang felt like buds I'd been hoping to meet some day. Even the minor characters meant so much to the journey, and by the time it was done and I'd seen what Frisk/the player's kindness and want for peace can do, I was completely hooked and the game rented a free condo in my brain.

What I wasn't expecting was the other ways Undertale's touched my life. I'm trans, and before I'd played, it had only really been associated with discomfort and a wish for things to be better, without much of a light at the end of the tunnel to look at. Undertale's queer-friendly themes and the characters' insistence on being themselves opened me up to thinking about a future where my own kindness and, well, determination can lead me to being the true me. While my trans story was far from done, it helped me see the future as something I can smile about, rather than needing to be afraid. The fics that I've written about Undertale, and especially the bone-friend, since I played have also led me to meet the people I consider my closest friends, as well as being a gateway to other fandoms that have captured my interest. These connections I've made through the game are ones I'll carry with me for the rest of my life.

So, where am I going with all this? Undertale has invited me into a better path than the one I'd been taking, and that's an opportunity I'll forever be grateful for. Unfortunately, there are some in the fandom space who have shared hateful views about people simply for who they are, and everyone should know how far those views are from the truth. Undertale is a game about love and growth, and it is the responsibility of those who participate in its community to follow its footsteps and celebrate everyone for their traits; not just tolerate, but celebrate. For fellow trans people in particular, I've been thinking about this the most; you are real men, real women, and real non-binary identities, and all of those things are represented in Undertale itself. Celebrating trans lives isn't just the right thing to do, it's a part of this wonderful game we're all enjoying together.

Maybe this reaches just two people, or twenty, or more if I'm lucky, but whoever does read this far, thank you for taking the time to see how much Undertale has meant to me over these five years, and I hope you know how much you mean to the community. We're all making it a better place by being ourselves, and I hope the game keeps lifting people up for many years to come. Now, go read that new volume of the Undertale/Deltarune Newsletter!

[viric-dreams]

Jones Has a Coffee Date

The café is nearly packed, and the wall of noise hits Jones’ ears the moment he opens the door. It’s more than the usual lunch rush—students huddled at the large tables, gesticulating wildly at their notes and each other. In one corner, a trio of tomb colonists set out a game board and a pair of dice. A couple brush passed him, wandering out into the humid London air hand-in-hand. There’s too much going on for him to keep track of; too many faces to watch for suspicious behaviour. But there’s not much that he can do about it. 

He spots the man at a circular table against the back wall, near to the kitchens. The man wiggles his fingers at him in a silly approximation of a wave. At least the bastard had the sense to pick an unobtrusive spot in this chaotic café. With a deep breath, Jones puts on his best pleasant face and wades his way through the sea of patrons. 

A few feet from the table, his foot catches against the leg of a neighbouring chair and he stumbles, arms just barely reaching out to brace against a table in time. The couple occupying it startle at his landing, cups rattling, but drinks ultimately unspilt. From the corner table, the man chuckles at this, his laughter a dry and sour thing. 

“Jonesy, you made it!” He opens his arms wide to punctuate the greeting. He’s too loud, even in such a busy place. Jones slides into the seat across from him to try to close the distance. 

“I’m glad you came,” the man says. 

Jones nods in acknowledgement. “You asked.”

You gave me no choice. 

He grins at this, and Jones feels his stomach turn. 

He’s not saying anything more, just sat there holding that ridiculous, grating expression like he has nowhere else to be today. And perhaps he doesn’t. Perhaps London’s finest truly have nothing better to do than to schedule coffee dates. 

“I don’t mean to keep you from your work—”

“No, no, Jones. Don’t worry about me. Worry about you. Now, how do you take your coffee?” 

Dear Christ, he doesn't have time for this. The Kolomanian Delegation’s celebration dinner is two hours from now. They’re far too close to the hotel for comfort. Any of his “fellow countrymen” could see him here talking to a constable, and even in plainclothes, the stench of the man is potent enough to even the most dimwitted of spies.

“An espresso, please.” 

This seems to delight him.

“One of those fancy drinks? I like that about you, Jones.” 

Please be quiet. Please stop saying my name.

The constable waves over a waitress with a wild swing of his arm. 

“One coffee for me, bring sugar. And green tea for my friend here… And we’ll take something to eat too. Maybe those little cakes.” 

If he’s hoping to get a rise out of him, Jones refuses to grant him that satisfaction. His hand curls loosely around the mug, letting the warmth permeate into his palm, whilst The Smug Constable takes a too-large bite of a jellied mushroom cake. His own remains untouched on its plate. 

“These things are really good,” The Slovenly Constable says, his mouth half full of pastry. Crumbs spill out onto his jacket, “You’ve got to give them a try.”

“I’m sure they are.” His hand wraps tighter around the mug. 

The tea tastes of nothing, only heat. He’s not sure if this is the fault of the beverage or his abused taste buds, desensitised to worrying amounts of coffee and that bitter aromatic the doctor had given him. All so that he can do his job. A job he’s unsure the constable is aware of. 

For nearly two months they’ve had this back and forth—the man calls and he comes. This uncomfortable dance that’s taken place since the ominous moment he’d come into Jones’ life, claiming to know who he is, that he’d finally put two and two together after that fateful arrest on New Years Eve. But he’d be willing to look past his sin, let the cop killer be. The Forgiving Constable is a generous man, after all. Jones simply needs to do him one little favour and it’ll all be forgotten. 

And here they sit, finally in the same room. A proper meeting—no last minute being stood up this time—and getting nowhere, that favour left dangling, unspoken. Instead, he sits across from the bastard in his chair, an errant glob of jelly in his ugly beard that he won’t wipe away–why won’t he wipe his face–picking away at this cake, as if he has all the time in the world and—

“Are you enjoying the Games so far?” The way he makes it sound like such friendly small talk makes his blood boil. Like two friends having a casual chat. 

How much does he know? 

Does he suspect Jones has been acting as a double agent? Very few agents of Black are even aware, only adding to his feelings of unease in the field. Likely, the man’s just fishing. 

“I can’t say I’ve seen much of it. Been keeping to myself, mostly.”

Will he call out the blatant lie? If the man clocks it as one, he doesn’t seem to give any indication of it, polishing off the cake to take a deep swig of coffee, before picking up the one from Jones’ plate. The jam remains, stubbornly clinging to his facial hair. 

“Is that so? I’ll bet you’ve got all sorts of fun little hobbies with all of that time on your hands now. You enjoying your freedom, jailbird?”

The snarl becomes a smile before the constable has the chance to spot the expression. 

“Indeed.” Jones replies sweetly, bringing the cup to his lips. This time, he doesn’t even register the heat, outsmoked by his own slow-roiling anger. This is another dead end. The Jam-Covered Constable has no intention of making requests, it’s simply another one of his silly plays. Jones knows this game, and has had enough of it. The man’s had his fun today, let him call again if he’s serious about–

“I saw our mutual friend the other day.” The man swipes at his lip with the back of his hand, just missing that spot of jam, hanging precariously. “He asked about you, you know. ‘How’s ol’ Robert doing? You keeping an eye on him?’” He leans forward, his sour breath wafting across the table, “What do you think I should tell him?”

Tell him I’m going to claw his eyes out of his fucking skull. I’ll break his fucking fingers and push them down his throat.

“I’m doing well, thank you.”

The constable frowns at this and reaches across the table. His hand wraps around Jones’ wrist, prying it from the cup. “Are you sure about that? You look so frail. Nothing like the man I arrested on New Years. Have you been eating, Jonesy?”

He wants to leap across the table and grab him by his stupid collar, smash that smug face of his into the table until it’s nothing but pulp and mushroom jelly. Over and over again until they have to pry him off of what’s left of him. Dig his fingers into muscle and bone and–

“...should take better care of yourself. A man who lives alone can’t afford to be ill. Not when he has to keep working.”

Jones gently slides his arm free from the man’s grip. He makes no effort to hold on. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, and when the constable makes no effort to continue the conversation Jones sets a few Echoes down onto the table. “I take it we’re done here, then?”

The man stares at him a moment, before leaning back in his seat. The derisive demeanour slides back onto his face.

“I’m looking forward to the next one, Jonesy. I might have a favour to ask of you then. Perhaps. But for now, be good.”

His hip clips the side of a table on his way out of the crowded café. He doesn’t even feel it.

[71078]

Lost and Found // Gadri + Judri prompt

Gavi, the oldest son of an uber-rich businessman, makes headlines for speeding and crashing one of his father's cars. Really, it's nothing, the man has more luxury speedsters than he does family members, but it's not the first time Gavi had gotten in so much trouble so his father decides it's enough. Out of frustration, he sends his son to work at a tomato farm¹ in the Canarian island of Tenerife for the summer to make him understand his responsibilities. At first everything is grey and lifeless for Gavi, despite it being summer; that is, until he meets Pedri, the nephew of the owner of a banana farm² down the road. The two hit it off immediately, Pedri thinking he's got a new friend for the summer, (it doesn't hit him yet who Gavi really is) but Gavi knew immediately that he wanted to be so much more with him.

They spend the first month of summer in an innocent friendship, though hanging out 24/7 and practically being glued to each other. Eventually, a month and a half into break, a drunken confession leads Gavi to be so brave as to finally shoot- and score a place in Pedri's heart. The rest of the summer is spent as boyfriends, though unofficially, both of them too scared to try and confirm a label.

Just when Pedri find out how important Gavi's really is, Summer's over and the boy has to go back home. It's rough and pretty ugly, only after making a mess of feelings that they thought were clear does it take for them to settle for long distance, Gavi in Barcelona and Pedri still in Tenerife. Until slowly, Gavi seems to drift away, no longer the bright and clingy boy he was that summer, like Pedri was the only one in the relationship still in love and Gavi forgot that he fell first. It isn't long until Gavi just ghosts, and just like that, they're over.

A year or so later, Pedri, having moved past their history, sees the news on tv, the confusing title "Leonor, Princess of Spain announces her engagement with Pablo Gavira" dragging the feelings of that summer back to him. He's broken at this point, sensitive and crying like the day he was born- but he lacks the audacity to confront Gavi about it, so he goes to a bar in search of liquid courage in hopes of getting drunk enough to even type in his contact and maybe even tell him to fuck himself.

That's when Pedri, all giddy and drunk, meets Jude³, triumphant and sober, on vacation celebrating his transfer to Real Madrid. Jude knew it was love at first sight, the dopamine pushing him to make moves that would wake him up the next day with Pedri cuddled against him. The latter knew it as well, that he would have a future with Jude; in fact, he even knew it so well that he even forgot how to say Gavi's name, forgot he existed.

Pedri's living his high life as a wag in love, head over heels so much so that he toppled over and hit his head, started wearing his boyfriend's white shirt and forgetting that he'd been a cule since birth. Their closeness lets the paparazzi be quick to notice their wandering hands, inseparability, and worse, all of Jude's IG posts where traces of Pedri are lingering in the background or the ones where he's all hugged up on him like a pet. The publicity creates a catalyst for them to smoothly announce that they're official, the world going wild, global headlines and hit tweets within the first hour. Of course, the good news finds its way to crawl to Gavi.

The Sevillian is fuming to think what once was his is somebody else's, but what can he do? He was the one that left Pedri anyway, to try and initiate an affair would just make him look sad and desperate- he does it anyway. Pedri leaves him on read.

____

¹Gavi was gifted tomatoes when he visited his hometown after Spain's first title in 11 years

²Pedri is endorses a banana brand, Plátanos de Canarias

³Tenerife is one of the most visited places by British tourists, in fact, there are almost four times as many British tourists compared to Spanish tourists that visit Tenerife annually, taking up the top spot for visitors by place of origin.

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part forty-eight: "The Perfume"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You celebrate New Year's Eve at Josie’s with Matt, Karen, Foggy, and Marci.

Or

Marci gets pheromone perfume on you before you get to Josie’s and Matt definitely has a reaction to it all night.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 5.6k

a/n: Smupdate, friends! Matt goes wild over pheromone perfume! You can find the list of installments for this series on tumblr here. And if you're enjoying it let me know!

Scanning the shelf beside Karen, your eyes took in the various shades of lipstick. You, Karen, and Marci had stopped at a beauty store on your way to Josie’s, the three of you having chosen to get ready tonight at Karen’s place. Karen had wanted to pick out a new lipstick shade for the night since you were all going out to celebrate New Year's Eve and her usual red lipstick was practically on its last legs. Marci had wandered off a few minutes ago to check out the perfumes, entirely planning to find a perfume she liked and ‘test’ it on herself for the night, while the two of you looked for lipstick.

"What about this shade of red?" you asked Karen curiously, finger pointing to one of the lipsticks. 

Karen glanced up from where she was searching nearby. She pulled a face and shook her head. "Too bright for me," she answered, focus returning to the shades before her.

You chewed your lip, trying to find something that looked similar but different. After the past ten minutes of checking out different lipsticks from different brands, all the reds were beginning to look the same to you. With a sigh, you turned and focused on the brand behind you, eyes immediately drawn to the different shades of red. Before you could even grab one to point out, Karen let out a triumphant squeal and you turned, sighing in relief as you saw her holding a little box.

“This one is perfect!” she exclaimed. 

“Great,” you told her. “Let's go see what’s taking Marci so long.”

Making your way out of the makeup aisle with Karen following close behind, you were eager to get out of this store and over to Josie’s already. Matt and Foggy were already there impatiently waiting on the three of you; Foggy had texted Marci a bit ago asking what was taking so long. And because Matt had been busy catching up on work after the trip you both had taken, and he’d been increasingly going out at night–thankfully safe and sound in his red suit–checking further and further into things with Wayland, you hadn’t seen him too much over the last few days. He’d promised you he wasn’t going out tonight, telling you he only wanted to spend his night with you and your friend group. So of course you were dying to get to Josie’s already and cuddle up into Matt’s side while you downed a few beers before having a sweet little midnight New Year’s kiss with him. 

The pair of you found Marci still in the fragrance section. She was holding up a little blue bottle, her brows furrowed as she was reading the label.

“You ready to go?” you asked her when the pair of you reached her. “Karen finally got a shade she liked. You get your perfume for the night?”

Marci glanced up from the bottle in her hands, nodding. “Yeah, I did eventually find something. Not sure how I like it the longer I smell it though,” she mused. 

“So what’s that you’re staring so hard at?” Karen asked curiously, gesturing to the little blue bottle.

“Oh,” Marci said, a devilish little smile forming on her mouth. “This is one of those pheromone perfumes. I keep seeing them all over social media.”

“Pheromone perfume?” Karen asked, her voice suspiciously raising an octave, lightly nudging your arm with her elbow.

“Yeah, it’s supposed to have pheromones in it and it blends with your body’s natural PH or something?” Marci explained. “The reviews for it say it really works but I don’t know. Not sure I like the scent, you know?” She shrugged as she added, “Plus it’s not like Foggy Bear and I need any help in that department.”

A mischievous grin spread across Karen’s face as she turned towards you. You instinctively took a step back, eyes wide in fear of the look on her face.

“Matt might like it,” Karen said slowly. “He might be more capable of noticing it. I mean, they do say your other senses become heightened when you lose one, right?” she asked innocently.

Marci’s devilish grin returned as her focus shifted towards you. You swallowed hard, taking another step back. Wearing pheromones on top of your own pheromones–when you already knew how those drove Matt crazy sometimes–sounded like a very dangerous situation. Which Karen had to be aware of considering the way she was looking at you.

“I don’t know,” you said hesitantly. “I don’t think that’s the best idea. Matt gets pretty bad headaches from weird scents, you know? Probably better if I didn’t.”

“Oh come on,” Marci said, shaking the bottle at you. “Don’t you want to see him go wild?”

Unable to fight the heat creeping into your cheeks, you shook your head quickly. “No, not at Josie’s I don’t,” you answered.

“I’m sure it doesn’t really work,” Karen pressed. “But wouldn’t you be curious to find out if maybe it does?" She shrugged a shoulder gently. "So Matt might be a bit more cuddly and affectionate tonight, you mean to say you wouldn’t like that?”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously at her. “That’s all it would do?” you asked carefully.

“That’s what a lot of the reviews say,” Marci replied. “It’s not like Matt is going to be ripping your jeans off in the middle of Josie’s and fucking you over our table. That’d be ridiculous. And also something I’d spend hundreds of dollars on if it did do that.”

Your eyes dropped down to the little blue bottle in Marci’s hands. Would some extra pheromones–or something that enhances your own, however the hell that perfume supposedly worked–really be that bad? It had been a few days since you and Matt had slept together, maybe it would help encourage things?

But also, it could really bother Matt. Maybe it would hurt his nose and give him a horrible headache for the entire night. It was probably better to not mess with his senses like that. With a rough sigh you ultimately shook your head ‘no’ at Marci. 

“I probably shouldn’t,” you told her. “I don’t want to risk the scent bothering Matt all night tonight.”

“Fine,” Marci said, her bottom lip popping out as she playfully pouted at you. “At least smell it before you completely say no?”

She held her hand with the roll-on perfume bottle out towards you. For a moment you hesitated before caving and leaning forward. You took a sniff of the bottle–it didn’t actually smell too terrible. It was a little fruity with something warm like cinnamon mixed in. But as you were opening your mouth to comment on the scent, Marci grinned and her hand darted down, swiping a few strips of the pheromone perfume along your neck as she laughed deviously.

“Marci!” you exclaimed, eyes going wide in shock.

“Hey,” she said, capping the tester bottle and setting it back, “if that gets you laid tonight with the best sex ever, you’re going to be thanking me. And if it doesn’t?” She waved a dismissive hand at you. “No harm, right? It’s just a perfume after all. What’s the worst that could happen?” 

_________

Marci and Karen were stepping into Josie’s before you, Marci loudly calling out her pet name for Foggy over the classic rock and chatter of the busy bar. As you followed in behind them, your head turning towards the table Matt and Foggy had been waiting for you all at with a handful of beers already on the table for the three of you, your eyes landed on Matt. He visibly stiffened in his seat, his entire body freezing up as the three of you began walking over. Your brows furrowed as you neared him, wondering if you were imagining things. Surely he wasn’t already picking up on that perfume, right? 

“Took you girls long enough to pick out a lipstick,” Foggy complained, throwing his arm around Marci as she rounded the table to sit beside him. “Figured we’d be counting down to midnight just the two of us at the rate you all were going.”

“Do you have any idea how many different shades of reds there are?” Karen asked, sitting in a seat and raising a brow at him.

You made your way to the open chair beside Matt, sitting down and getting comfortable. Beside you, Matt’s hand noticeably tightened its grip along the wood table. Your eyes were drawn to the movement, pausing as you noticed his knuckles turning white. Clearing your throat, you glanced up at Matt.

“Did we miss anything?” you asked him.

His lips pursed into a thin line, his head roughly shaking 'no'. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Marci shooting Matt a curious look. When Matt didn’t say anything further, you glanced back at Foggy, brows raised. He was studying Matt closely for a moment as well before he abruptly snapped out of it, turning and shooting you a smile.

“Well, we got you ladies beers already,” Foggy said with a grin. “Didn’t want to have to wait even longer for you three to manage that next.”

“Ha ha,” Karen said sarcastically, grabbing one of the beers from the table. “But thank you.”

Matt's hand silently slid a beer towards you, your attention shifting down towards it. You reached out, grabbing the cold bottle and glancing up at Matt. 

"Thanks," you whispered. 

He nodded briefly, a strained smile slipping onto his face below his dark lenses. Eyes narrowing at how odd he was behaving, you leaned in towards him. Instantly Matt went even more rigid, his head darting down towards the table as your friends continued their discussion. 

"Are you okay?" you hesitantly questioned him. "You're strangely silent."

His covered gaze remained downcast on the table, his hand still gripping the edge of it. You could see the muscles twitching in his cheeks, his jaw tensed.

"Matt?" you tried again.

"You smell unbelievably good," he whispered between gritted teeth. 

Your heart sped up in your chest, a nervous excitement taking over you that you couldn't quite control. Was the perfume really doing this to him?

"Marci swiped some perfume on me at the store," you began, but stopped when he firmly shook his head.

"Not perfume," he ground out. "Your pheromones are practically suffocating me."

Licking your lips nervously, you admitted. "It was some pheromone perfume. She put some on me after I said no," you explained quickly and quietly, ignoring the look Karen was shooting the pair of you huddled together. "She obviously doesn't understand how things like that actually affect you. I'm sorry. You want me to go wash it off in the bathroom?"

His head turned just a fraction towards you, hand still gripping the table tight. "I'd rather go fuck you in the bathroom."

Your pulse raced even faster, your bottom lip rolling between your teeth. Matt inhaled sharply, his dark lenses focusing on you. 

"I'm resisting the urge to stick my hand down your pants and touch you right now," he continued, swallowing hard. 

Your legs pressed together under the table, your gaze darting away from him. Your breath was coming in a bit harder with the things he was saying in that sultry, deep voice of his. His hand slipped onto your thigh a moment later and you felt your breath hitch in response. Gradually his palm slid upwards, his fingers dragging along the inside of your thigh and leaving a trail of warmth behind them. You bit down on the tip of your tongue in response, struggling to stay composed. Eventually his fingers stopped between the top of your clenched thighs, your head dropping down towards the table as if you were very focused on your beer. His fingers squeezed their way between your legs, pressing down along you and creating a delicious friction. You had to bite down harder on your tongue to keep from making a noise. 

"How about a game of pool?" Marci suggested loudly.

Her question startled you back to your senses, your head flying up from the table. Your cheeks flushed as Matt's fingers continued to rub against you under the table. When her eyes landed on you, your left hand casually made its way under the table and grabbed Matt's hand, entwining your fingers with his and drawing them up onto the table. 

"I'm not any good at pool," you answered with a tight smile. "I'll sit the game out."

"Matt?" Foggy asked.

His head briefly rose in Foggy's direction, a stiff smile quickly flashing across his face. Matt shook his head as he said, "Not tonight."

Across the table, Marci waggled a brow at you before shooting you a wink. You shifted awkwardly in your seat, eyes darting back down to your beer. 

"Alright, I'll play you both all on my own," Karen replied. "Since these two aren't going to be any fun tonight."

"We'll watch," you answered quickly.

You rose to your feet as they all did, ignoring the stares they were giving you and Matt as you grabbed your beer. Matt moved very rigidly beside you, his brows pinched together as his jaw clenched tight. You both had a few hours to midnight left to go and you had a feeling things were about to get a lot harder. 

_________

Foggy, Marci, and Karen were deep into their second game of pool as Matt and you stood nearby next to a table. You were clutching your beer between both of your hands, Matt pressed against the back of you, his chin resting atop your right shoulder. His beer was in his left hand which he had wrapped around the front of you, his right hand rubbing along your hip, over your blouse. Occasionally you'd both join in the conversation with your friends, but mostly you'd been distracted by Matt who was still very distracted by the pheromone perfume.

Matt's head once again shifted along your shoulder, his nose brushing against the skin of your neck. You heard him inhale deeply before exhaling something that sounded like a pained whine, his hand tightening on your hip. You shifted on your feet, trying to ignore what his presence and his arousal were doing to you. If you let yourself go, you were sure Matt would lose all sense of control and you’d be fucking at Josie’s–and maybe you wouldn’t even make it to somewhere mildly private before he started really touching you with how he’d been acting.

“You smell so goddamn good,” Matt whispered.  

His lips grazed your skin as he spoke, the sensation raising goosebumps along your arms. A second later, his plush lips were lightly placing kisses just below your ear. Your hands tightened their hold on your beer, the bottle almost slipping out of your hands the moment his lips were on you. His right hand slid a bit lower on your hip and you cleared your throat loudly, the noise halting his movement.

“I just need to have you,” he whined.

“Matt,” you whispered harshly out of the corner of your mouth, “we’re in a busy bar and our friends are right there.”

His face nuzzled into the side of your neck, the stubble of his beard pleasantly rasping along your skin. You inhaled a deep, shaky breath and tried to keep your composure, your heart hammering so violently you could feel it jumping in your throat. Karen glanced across the pool table at the pair of you, her pool cue in one hand. You quickly forced a smile onto your face like Matt wasn’t whispering sexual things to you. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously until Marci let out an excited shriek when she actually pocketed a ball, the sound drawing Karen’s attention back to the game.

“Then let’s go back to my place,” Matt begged. “We don’t need to stay until midnight, do we?” 

“And tell our friends what, Matt?” you whispered back. “Neither of us exactly look like we’re about to come down with the stomach flu with the way you’ve been on me all night.”

Matt’s hand continued to snake its way across your stomach, the tips of his fingers slipping just a bit below the top of your jeans. The calloused pads brushed your bare skin and a shudder ran down your spine.

“I’ll tell them I haven’t seen my girl enough the last few days,” Matt murmured.

His tongue delicately ran along the skin of your neck and you fought your eyelids from falling shut. It felt so good. Everything he was doing to you for the past almost two hours had felt so good and you were struggling to ignore it all. A pleased hum vibrated in Matt’s throat a moment later.

“Yeah and then they’ll know that you just want to–to–” you stammered, distracted by Matt’s mouth tenderly sucking along your neck now, his fingers dipping a bit lower into your jeans, “–to have sex,” you breathily finished.

His teeth lightly nipped at the skin next and you swallowed hard, glad your friends were very much focused on the pool game. Otherwise they’d see half of Matt’s hand down the front of your jeans. Though you were sure Marci and Karen would be cheering you both on and encouraging you to go home, but the thought of that had you blushing.

“Let them,” Matt’s deep voice purred near your ear. “I’ll tell them myself that I just want to take you back to my place and shove my face between your legs and taste that beautiful pussy until you're trembling against my tongue and clamping those thighs around my face.”

Your eyes snapped shut at his voice, a sharp exhale coming from your nose as you tried to remain calm. Repeatedly you reminded yourself that you were at Josie’s and there were people around you right now.

“Matt,” you said his name in warning.

His tongue gently licked your earlobe and your lips were trembling instantly in response. 

“I’ll tell them I want to hear the breathy way you call me baby when my cock is filling you,” his sultry voice continued to whisper in your ear. “And that I want to hear that sound of your blood rushing and your heart racing when you’re seconds away from an orgasm mixing with the sounds you make when you do cum.” 

His fingers inched a bit lower into your pants and you lowered your beer bottle to try to hide what he was doing. You felt the very tip of one of his fingers ghosting over your clit very faintly and you couldn't fully stop the whimper in your throat. 

“And that I want to feel how that beautiful pussy begs my cock for more with each and every twitch," he continued. 

His finger pressed just a bit more against you, the touch eliciting a small noise from your mouth. Matt hissed sharply, the breath blowing across your neck as he did. Your knees were trembling, struggling to keep you on your feet as you leaned further back into Matt behind you. 

“Fuck, I need to have you, sweetheart," Matt groaned.

His teeth bit down on a very sensitive spot on your own neck and you fought to keep the whimper in your mouth. Matt growled a rumbling noise in response, clearly hearing the noise despite your attempts to keep quiet.

“Let me take you home, sweet girl,” he begged, his lips planting a gentle kiss over the place he’d bit. “Let me love you. Let me fuck you.” His forehead landed on your neck, his hand still partially down your pants and barely touching you. “I just fucking need you so bad, sweetheart. I need you. Please.”

“Matt,” you lightly chastised, one hand leaving your beer to grasp his wrist and pull his hand from your jeans. “I can just go wash the perfume off in the bathroom, okay? Why keep torturing yourself?”

He shook his head against your neck, the feel of his stubble drawing goosebumps on your skin. 

"Won't make a difference now," he murmured. 

"Then I'll keep your hands off of me," you told him.

You unwrapped yourself from Matt's hold, dragging him closer to the pool table before intentionally putting a foot of space between you two.

"You know what? I'll join your team for the next game, Karen," you said, forcing a smile onto your face. 

Karen shot you a knowing smile as Matt groaned beside you. 

"Ready for a distraction?" Karen teased.

"Something like that," you mumbled as you made your way to the pool rack and grabbed a cue. 

_________

"Only five more minutes!" Marci squealed excitedly.

The five of you were gathered together in a group, eyes on one of the screens near the bar watching as the countdown neared. You'd managed to keep Matt's wandering hands at bay by playing pool for a little while, and then grabbing more drinks with Karen a bit ago. But now Matt was once again half wrapped around you, his hand openly palming your ass. 

"I see that pheromone perfume is doing something," Marci announced, gesturing her drink towards Matt's hand on your ass.

Foggy choked on his drink, coughing roughly into his hand as Marci looked on at you, smug and entirely unaware of just exactly what that pheromone perfume had been doing tonight. Matt was unphased, his hand even squeezing your ass roughly through your jeans. Instantly you were flushing, eyes darting back to the screen above the bar.

"Pheromone perfume?" Foggy asked nervously, brows raised as his eyes darted back and forth between you and Matt.

“Yeah,” Marci said, “it’s this perfume I keep seeing all over social media. Supposed to blend with your body’s natural PH and drive others crazy with your scent.”

“Oh is it now?” Foggy replied, his voice rising a few octaves as he eyed you with wide eyes. “And you thought this would be a good idea to try out on Matt tonight?”

You shook your head quickly, pointing a firm, accusatory finger at Marci. “She swiped it on me when I was smelling it. Blame your wife, Fog. I said no because I knew Matt would–” you immediately stopped, biting your bottom lip as you caught yourself before you said too much.

Marci’s eyes narrowed curiously at you, her head tilting to the side. “You knew Matt would what?” she asked.

Your mouth opened and closed repeatedly, eyes darting helplessly to Karen and Foggy who were also looking a bit alarmed. Beside you, Matt was no help at all, more focused on feeling your ass as he about shattered his beer bottle with how tight he was holding it.

“He–he gets bad headaches from scented things and perfumes,” you stammered out. “Like I mentioned earlier. He’s been feeling a little off all night.”

“That explains why he’s been so quiet!” Foggy exclaimed quickly, nodding enthusiastically. 

“And why he’s been clinging to you all night,” Karen agreed. 

Marci’s eyes narrowed as they darted between all of you. Eventually her gaze fell on Matt who was once again trying to nuzzle into your neck, trying to get closer to exactly where the pheromone perfume had been placed onto you.

“Sure seems like he feels alright,” Marci muttered, one brow raising onto her forehead. 

You were grateful when a chorus of people began abruptly counting down from ten, instantly drawing Marci’s attention away from the pair of you and focusing on the screen as she wrapped her arms around Foggy. You sighed in relief, relaxing into Matt’s side as the counting reached closer to one.

The moment the bar was filled with people exclaiming shouts of ‘Happy New Year,’ Matt’s hand reached up and grabbed your chin before roughly yanking your mouth towards his. He was kissing you so hard and so enthusiastically that you stumbled back into a table. But he continued unphased, his tongue finding its own way into your mouth next. You were quickly reaching a point to where you needed to pull away to breathe, but when you tried to break away, Matt’s hand only pulled your mouth right back.

“Oh my God you two!” Karen exclaimed.

“Get a room!” Marci added on with a laugh.

Matt instantly broke away, leaving you standing there wide-eyed and breathless. You were gasping for air, a hand tossed over your chest as Matt stared back at you through those red lenses. You could see the hunger on his face without even seeing his eyes and it sent a chill through your body.

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Matt said, his voice bordering on the tone of the Devil with how raspy it came out. “My place, now.”

He gripped your forearm firmly before and gave it a sharp pull, drawing you away from the table you’d half-fallen into. You glanced behind Matt, spotting Foggy looking anywhere but at the pair of you, Karen shooting you a mischievous and knowing smile, and Marci looking a combination of pleased and intrigued.

“I guess we’ll see you guys later?” you called out as a form of goodbye.

The three of them waved at you, and as you turned to help guide Matt around the crowd of people out of the bar, you overheard Marci behind you.

“I am so buying a bottle of that perfume now!”

_________

“Matt, let me get the door open first!” you whispered harshly.

He was pressed to the back of you, relentlessly sucking on your neck as you struggled to unlock his apartment door. He’d somehow managed to unzip your jeans while you were walking down the hall and you’d been beyond grateful no one else was currently in the hallway to witness what was happening. 

The couple blocks to walk back to Matt’s had been very rife with sexual tension. At least three times he’d abruptly tugged you down an alley and shoved you into a wall before shoving his tongue into your mouth and snaking his hands under your blouse. It had felt so good that each time you’d lost yourself in the moment for a few minutes and then had to very forcibly remind yourself that you were still in public and anyone could walk up on you.

You were gripping the key tight and trying for a fourth time to get it into the lock, but Matt’s fingers were down the front of your jeans and rubbing you with an increasing pace over your underwear. Gritting your teeth, you tried to focus on keeping your hand steady. When you finally got the key into the lock, you were so relieved you could have cried. Wasting no further time, you opened the door to his apartment and Matt behind you practically pushed you inside before slamming the door shut behind the both of you.

“Take off your pants and underwear,” Matt ordered, pausing only to lock his front door and toss his dark glasses onto his console table nearby.

Too stunned to argue, you began pulling off your jeans and tossing them aside. Matt was dropping on his knees before you, grabbing the top of your underwear and yanking them down your legs impatiently. 

“Matt, what’re you–”

You didn’t finish your question. Matt’s hands roughly shoved your hips into the wall before one hand came and spread your legs. Seconds later his face was between your thighs, his tongue greedily lapping up your arousal. Your head rolled back into the wall, both of your hands coming to grip fistfuls of his hair. He was eating you out with the zeal you’d expect from him having been forced to smell your pheromones all night long. He was so worked up that he had to have you right there in his entryway hall, unable to wait any longer to make it further into the apartment. His mouth shifted, focusing on your clit while two of his fingers slipped inside of you. He thrusted them into you, curling them just a bit, and your body was shaking along the wall behind you.

“Oh, shit, Matt,” you moaned out, hands gripping his hair tighter.

His fingers continued pumping eagerly into you as his mouth and his tongue worked with so much unrestrained passion along your clit that his focus seemed almost crazed. You were already nearing your climax from having had to endure his touches and his flirtations all night long. He was grunting like an animal below you, focused entirely on getting you off, and it was beginning to drive you wild. 

"Fuck, baby, I'm so close," you whined. "Faster."

Encouraged by your words, Matt's fingers picked up their pace. His tongue was swirling feverishly over your clit, your eyes rolling back at the sensation of him below you. You felt that warm wash begin to crest over you, starting from your head and making its way downwards. Writhing against the wall, you moaned out, your hands tightening further on his hair in your fists. Matt continued on, carrying you through the orgasm as you fell apart against his entryway wall. 

The moment you'd reached the end of it, body going slack against the wall, Matt was immediately up on his feet and pulling off his own jeans and boxers. You were breathing hard, trying to catch your breath as he threw his clothes to the side. 

Completely disregarding the fact that you both still had your shirts on, he picked you up and shoved your back into the wall. Your hands instinctively wrapped around his neck and your legs around his waist. His own hands were gripping your bare thighs, holding you up. You licked your lips, taking in that dark expression that seemed to be clouding his eyes. One of his hands briefly released your leg long enough to line himself up with your entrance. Without hesitation, he slid his cock into you, clearly struggling to be slow about the way he did. His eyes closed when he was fully sheathed inside of you, a deep rumble coming from his chest. 

"I've wanted this all night," he breathed out. 

His voice sent a shiver down your spine, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt along his back. He began to move, thrusting into you as he continued to hold you up along the wall. His face dropped down to your neck, your head rolling back along the wall helplessly as he began lapping at your throat, moaning and grunting. Your eyes closed, head still feeling light after the orgasm you'd just had in conjunction with the beers you’d had a bit ago. 

But Matt didn't seem remotely tired despite how late it was. He was fucking you tenaciously; breathy, needy noises for once were falling out of him . The sounds were building that feeling back up in you, driving you crazy as your lower back kept repeatedly slamming into the wall. 

" Matt ," you moaned out. 

He was still at your neck, but at the sound of your voice he pulled back. His face contorted into something of sheer pleasure and the sight had your inner walls fluttering around his cock. 

"Oh, sweetheart," he breathed out, his hips faltering in their movements. "Fuck, I'm about to cum but I–I need you to first."

"Matt, I don't–"

His fingers were on your already slightly oversensitive clit, once again cutting you clean off. You gasped out, white flashing across your eyes as he touched you. 

"Cum for me, sweetie," Matt almost begged, clearly struggling to hold himself back. 

"I don't–" you began, blowing out a rough breath as he kept rubbing your clit, "–don't know if I can, baby."

"Yes you can," he urged.

His mouth fell back to your neck, his finger using a bit more pressure along you. Your eyes snapped shut, that white still dancing across your closed lids. Almost like it blindsided you, you felt your climax abruptly drawing nearer.

"Yes," Matt growled along your throat. "Come on, sweetheart, cum on my cock."

Your cunt was tightening around him in response, your head slamming back into the wall. His cock continued to thrust roughly into you, even if the movements were becoming a little sloppy. Your breath was quickly coming in short.

"Come on, sweet girl," Matt whined, struggling visibly to hold himself back. 

Your eyes rolled back, body quaking as your climax washed over you for the second time. Matt released a loud cry, one you'd never heard from him before. You could feel him cumming inside of you, both of you finishing simultaneously. He thrust into you a handful of times, his face once again buried in your neck beside the pheromone perfume. 

By the time his hips had stopped, your body felt weightless. As Matt slipped out of you, carefully lowering your feet back to the floor, your legs felt weak. You were leaning against his entryway wall for support, eyes half-lidded. But Matt's hands were tugging up the hem of your shirt, the movement catching your attention. 

"What are you doing, Matt?" you asked, exhaustion in your voice.

"I want to see how many orgasms I can give you tonight," Matt purred in response. "We aren't stopping any time soon, sweetheart."

Your eyes widened in response. "What?" you breathed out.

He threw your shirt to the floor before yanking his own up and over his head. That dark look was still on his face as he stared back at you. 

"You heard me, sweetheart," he whispered, tone low and dangerous. "Bedroom. Now."

Swallowing hard, you turned on your heel and made your way to the bedroom, both of you naked. 

"I think this perfume is going to be the end of me," you muttered.

"Not the perfume, sweetheart," Matt rumbled out from behind you, amusement in his tone.

Goosebumps rose along your skin, a shudder of anticipation running down your body. Just behind you, Matt chuckled.