#like there’s more beer there than he actually anticipated

[venmondiese]

This party is boring... wanna leave?

✧ masterlist ✧ taglist ✧

Summary: The party you are in is boring, so you ask a cute nerd guy to leave with you... that is, until you find out this is his birthday party.  Maybe a gift and a happy birthday will fix his sad evening.

✧Pairing: Michael Gavey x Fem!Reader

✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, p in v, virginity loss, oral (m receiving), overall sweet, michael being a total nerd virgin.

✧Word Count: 7.8k

✧AO3 link: here

note: so i saw this tweet in my 2020 ig histories and i said... michael gavey coded, and here we are. Here is the original tweet (wendy and joy from red velvet haha) and AGAIN this is infinite i swear i am allergic to write things under 5k

Michael couldn’t be more excited. He looks proudly at the poster indicating the date and place of his birthday. 

Nothing too glamorous, he rented one of the halls for hire in Oxford, the same one that they used for the Christmas party that (to no one’s surprise) he wasn’t invited. But he intended to do something fun about it, with the pool table and maybe some game algebraic beer pong. Who knows? It was his birthday, so he did the rules.

And he had a few friends he could invite, of course, renting a whole hall seems…. exaggerated, but truly, he couldn’t get a pool table in his room. He paid for this only for the pool table. Besides, he liked his Norman no mates friends. Friends if you could call them that; they were as friend to him as Oliver Quick once was. Just that this once… he won’t get too attached.

Well, ‘friends’ would actually be mates from the chess club, so they weren’t exactly popular these days. They barely had a girl in the group, so they weren’t great with girls either. Besides, the only other girl that he knew had agoraphobia so… it wasn’t happening. 

His mum made some little biscuits and cupcakes for his day, since she came to have a little celebration just for him and her in a near-by cafe at college. He could skip a few classes to be with his mum on his birthday, after all. 

The night started interestingly. The space was obviously much larger than what he thought it could be, so they hung around the couch and the pool table. He felt the victory as he won two chess matches and a pool game. Maybe it was birthday luck, since everything was coming up as great.

As they talked about which opening was their favourite, Michael heard a little knock. Once he approached the crystal door, he saw Oliver with Felix by his side, with some liquor bottles. 

Michael frowned a bit, as he was pretty sure he rented the room, he did it with a lot of anticipation and made sure no one else did before him. And it was crystal clear that he didn’t invite Oliver. Sure, in their friendship, he once or twice talked about doing something about his birthday, but he never invited Oliver. 

“Hey Mikey” Oliver says, with an shit eating grin, and Michael has to roll his eyes, by how smug and prideful he looked. An absolute jerk, if you asked him. Oliver didn’t even wear his glasses anymore, and was all parties and relevancy thanks to Felix. “Come on”

Before Michael could stop them, Oliver passes by his side, as Felix follows him patting Michael’s shoulder with a smirk (he could swear it was in a patronising way) and people follow from behind as Oliver looks in the room for the music speaker of the rented room.

Michael walked as the crowd quickly dispersed, and he grabbed the few gifts he received, and looked at his distressed mates. 

“Oliver you cannot be here, I rented the room” Michael screams as the room noise is quick to appear, so different from the silence of their small reunion. 

“I saw your pamphlet” Oliver says nonchalantly as he successfully manages to get the aux cable. “Birthday, eh?” He says mockingly

“I rented it! You have to get out” He says almost screaming, as the same way he did once they met, when he asked Oliver to say a sum for him to say.

“If you can get all of us out, mate… sure” Oliver shrugs, clearly not minding.

Michael looks defeated. Even if he stands there, angry, with the few gift bags on his hands, he feels embarrassed. He wanted to do one nice thing for himself, just once. It wasn’t as cheap to rent a hall for his birthday (he couldn’t do it anywhere else, truly, but he thinks that maybe the pub would have been nice even if few of his mates didn’t drink beer)

The room fills very quickly, sitting on the couches and talking as they get vases with something to drink, or beer cans.

“Michael” two of his friends approach him, and he looks at them “We could rescue the biscuits and the cake” They say proudly as they have it in his hands. 

He couldn’t fake to look at least smug, so he nods a bit numbly. “Yeah, sure.” He says a bit disoriented, looking around “The rest left?”

“This was not a party, we assumed…” 

“Not really our thing. Though Tim and Steve stayed to see if they could get any girls” 

Michael hums, and he doesn’t know what to exactly think, since he didn’t expect this. He was organised, he liked things to be as he already planned. It made him secure, and it was only logical. But this interruption made him anxious.

“I gotta save the pool balls” He says to his friends “They are going to fine me if I lose one of them” 

“What… we do with this?” His friend asks about the food.

“Uhm… take the biscuits with you…” Michael says. “And the cake… leave it on the library next to the pool table, and hide it… please” 

As he collects the pool balls, and walks upstairs to return them, he is very downhearted. He remembers the time that he invited his friends from school and only his cousins and his neighbour appeared to his party; very embarrassing and he hated celebrating his birthday with a party ever since. It was mostly his mum and granny, with his dog and cat. Nothing else, nothing too fancy.

He comes back for the cake as he tries to explain the situation to the people that manage the rented halls, there was not much for them to do, and he is suspicious that maybe Oliver or Felix paid them to keep the room. At least they promised not to charge if anything broke, and he was happy with that.

So, money wasted, party ruined and they couldn’t even sing to him happy birthday. 

He walks from between the crowd as he steals a beer. Fuck it, it wasn’t eve stealing since they ruined his party. He takes a break, since he feels really discouraged. He knows his mates are not really social butterflies, but more leaning to being socially anxious. He might need to apologise, and even face the idea that they might be annoyed at him, and maybe they’ll kick him out from the chess team.

He drinks his beer, looking at how Oliver and Felix hyped the whole thing out, people sitting on the pool table… He hopes his cake is intact. He looks at his beer can as he move it a little to stir the liquid (he totally doesn’t want to look miserable AND like an imbecile)

“Hey” A voice calls him as he drinks from his beer. He has to look up to the prettiest girl that has ever approached him, probably. You wear a pink pleated mini skirt, with a short baby pink hoodie that he could see your bright pink bra underneath. God, it was a lot of pink in one person. 

You look at him as he blinks a bit, and you look at him with an alluring smile as if waiting for him to say something, and once he doesn’t, you continue.

“This party is kinda boring” you start saying, with a soft smile and a bright in your eyes as you look at him, doing all your best efforts to flirt with him “Do you wanna leave together?”

Michael blinks a bit as he looks at you, trying to process the words in his head but he fails. “Uh… this is my birthday party” he admits embarrassed and awkwardly, as he looks away to not face the shame, and he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“Oh” you say looking at him, your smile fading a bit, a bit worried about your comment. “Oh, I’m sorry” you say, grabbing his forearm. “Didn’t mean to be rude”

“No problem” he says, looking at how your hand rests on his forearm, almost caressing it slowly. 

“I suppose you didn’t invite all these people, did you? It was kind of a last minute call” you say looking at him, actually interested in him. “You seem pretty out of place for that”

“No… It was for me and my mates” 

“Ohh…” You say looking around, and you feel a bit of pity, which he doesn’t want nor needs. “Well, I would have brought a gift.” You say, trying to cheer him up “What is your name?”

Did they send you to make fun of him? Must be.

“Michael Gavey” He says, and he refuses to look at you, not to give you or them the satisfaction.

“Michael” you repeat, and you tell him your name too. “You are cute” you add.

He blushes and looks at you as if you just insulted him, his eyes open and he frowns a bit. He turns his head away in shame.

“Thank you” he murmurs, not sure of what to think. 

“So… your birthday is today.” You say tapping your thighs a bit. “How… randomly, I didn’t know”

“I like my birthday” He murmurs, drinking his beer hesitantly “Tis’ the day of Pi” 

“Day of Pie?” You ask frowning, your arms in your back as you lean in the wall. 

“Of Pi” he repeats “Like the pi from maths”

“Ohh, the circle thing” You say nodding and smiling, as you now understand. “Why is it the day of pi..? Ohh, it is because today it’s fourteen of March”

“Yeah” He says, as he looks at his shoes a bit embarrassed. He usually would think you were stupid, who the fuck confuses Pi with Pie? But you were the only one caring enough. 

“You seem to like maths, like your.. Your shirt” you say pointing it out at his maths pun, and he becomes aware that he has been, in fact, wearing that shirt all the time. 

Fuck, did he really fought with Oliver and with the rental people with a Math pun shirt? No wonder no one took him seriously.

“Ah, yeah…” He says awkwardly. You were very much engaging in the conversation, scooping on his interests little by little. 

“Do you know that I am flirting with you, right?” You say looking at him in the eyes and he looks from his shoes to your face, a bit surprised and panicked.

“Ehm… me? What for?”

“Because you are cute, like I said” you repeat “And it is your birthday”

“You don’t have to pity me because of that…”

“I am not pitying you. It is not why I like you. Come on, do you think I am pretty at least?” You ask as you change your body weight from one foot to the other while looking at him with the most alluring smile he has ever seen. 

God, the question sounds stupid, because you are not only pretty, but you are the hottest girl ever, looking at him as he freezes in place. Your eyes could trap him, as enchanting as they were, and your diminutive clothing was driving him insane. 

“Eh… yes” he murmurs. “Very pretty…”

He seems perplexed about the straightforwardness of this whole thing, and he is very confused. Where has this night taken him?

“I meant what I said. The party… is meh. You and I could leave together, if you want” 

He blinks, as his tongue wets his lips as he suddenly feels frozen in place. His eyes look at your expression as if you were joking, and he is unsure what to think.

“Uh… well, I have to get my cake, really, m-my mates saved it on the back of the library in hopes nobody would find it..:” He starts saying, not really sure why he is telling you this.

“Okay, we’ll search it” you say without any problem about it. “I could sing happy birthday to you and you can blow the candles”

That’s how you are now following him like a puppy, as he takes out the cake from behind some decorations that weren't hiding the cake very well, but it is mostly intact. 

You two walk together, to leave and Michael thinks that never felt so ashamed. He felt like doing the shame walk, as he passed through the people with a fucking birthday cake and a pretty girl following him.

“Let’s go to your dorm!” You tell him with a happy smile, your hand on his shoulder as you lean closer to tell him that as you both walk together.

He is confused how you’ll give him a gift if they weren’t in your room, but he accepts, as his dorm isn’t actually so far away from the rented halls, so he guides you upstairs, and upstairs, at the point where he hears you whine because of your heels.

You look a bit amazed as he enters his dorm, leaving the cake on his desk and moving to turn on the bedside lamp. He looks around, and you are taking off your heels and being just in socks. He blinks as he looks at you. Doing that means she’s comfortable here, he thinks. 

“Ah, eh…. Have a seat in the…” You sit on the edge of his bed, next to his pillows and he blinks. He wanted to say ‘in the desk chair’ but he guessed it was too late.

“Your bed is comfortable” You say smiling as you pat your right side for him to sit by your side. “Come, sit!”

Michael blinks. He dries his sweat palm by rubbing his hands on his thighs a bit awkwardly, as he takes a seat on the edge of his bed by your side. Your legs were tucked under your body, already comfortable, while he is rigid and tense, all awkwardness in comparison.

“And your mates are still at the party?” You ask looking at him, batting your eyelashes at him with a sweet smile as you lean your body weight to your hand, right beside him.

“Uhm… eh, well, they told me they left, so it was a bit rushed… I don’t know, I could call them if you.. Want to sing to me happy birthday and that…” he says a bit hesitant, and he is a bit unsure of his words when you chuckle a bit, if you knew a secret “B-Because we couldn’t… I mean we didn’t have the time for that, and my mum bought that cake because it is my favourite..:” he rambles as his cheeks are pink with embarrassment.

You were divine. In more than one way, you were the prettiest girl that he had ever talked to. And you were also the first girl in his dorm. And this close to him. And the first one to be interested in him. 

“Ah, of course… I bet it is tasty, it is sweet that your mum bought it for your party” You say smiling, as you look at him “Well, I don’t think we should call them here”

“Uh… Why not? We aren’t many, we are just seven, and with you we would be a pair number, so we could play a chess match since we are a pair. If you don’t know I could teach you” He offers. God, why did he accept this? Because you were pretty and all smiles with him, but he didn’t know what women like you liked…

“It’s not that, Mikey” you say softly, looking at him with an alluring smile, leaning slightly closer to him, which is dangerous, because it is the moment he has to decide if to look at your face or your tits. “It is because I wanna give you a gift”

Michael blinks. “Oh.”

“Yeah… It would be awkward if they were here”

His mind is numb, and he looks at you a bit confused “... Because they already gave me a gift?”

You have to suppress a laugh, as you shake your head and look down a bit. He takes the opportunity to look at your tits briefly.

“No…” You say again, with that damn tone that he can’t decipher. “You are not really good at hints, are you?”

He stays silent, looking at you as he tries to get it. “Eh… no, but I am really good at maths…”

You chuckle a bit, as you look at his face with a look he (again) cannot decipher. 

“Of course you are” you say sitting slightly closer, and he stays still as he looks at you and your tits coming closer to him “Your birthday it is in the day of Pi” you made sure to say the last word correctly, emphasising on it, and he nods a bit. 

“Yeah…” he murmurs looking at you as he licks his lips, and his glasses slide ever so slightly on his nose as he has to look down at your face

“I wanna give you a gift…” you repeat, and it is now that he feels your hand slide to his thigh and closer to his crotch. And his breath freezes on his throat as he feels your hand move slowly to rub his dick from above his clothes, and the traitor practically gets hard instantly at something that isn't his own hand. 

Michael practically freezes at your touch, as your hand slowly rubs his jeans where his erection was forming. Your eyes look at him as you smile, god, you were so provocative it made his brain go off. He couldn't take his eyes out of your face as he opened his mouth to pant a bit, a bit unsure of if to stop this or make it keep going.  It is not like he doesn’t want to do… this, but a little part of him still thinks you are just mocking him and probably there were popular jerks waiting outside to make fun of him for falling for someone so out of his league. 

But you were so pretty, lookin at him with tender eyes. As he seems so hesitant about it all. It wasn’t like he didn’t want this, but he just… wasn’t sure what to do, because this was confusing all his thoughts. How could he even impress you? 

It is you who leans to capture his lips. On yours with a kiss, slow and calm, since he was so inexperienced. It was his first kiss, as a girl rubs his cock. He surely was dreaming. 

“Do you want it?”

He blinks confused, his lips briefly open and all flustered as your hands keep on hardening his cock. “Um… yes” He swallows hard as his eyes are closed due to how good (and strange) it feels. To have a girl doing this with him.

“You’ve done this before?” You ask looking at his eyes, and his glasses are sliding on his nose and he doesn’ even notice, and your hand pat his cock which makes him whimper a bit. 

“Eh… yes, but with myself. I mean, b-by myself, like with my hand, that is…”

You giggle at his naiveness, and you add “I meant if you have ever had sex”

Michael looks at you surprised, and he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose again. You were so direct, and this was unlike anything that had happened in his life. You confused him, with your plays and teases, he was more simple, and more straightforward. “No…” He whispers in reply, breathing a little heavily now as you squeeze him through his pants. 

Your smile is confusing, since he doesn’t know what it means. Well, he doesn’t get the clue to. Most things you do anyways. “It is your birthday” you repeat “My treat, I’ll make you feel so good, Mikey”

He looks down at his pants as you unbuckle his belt. There was something about you, so seductive and sensual as you did all torturously slow. You weren’t rushed, and even did it for his sake, as he looked so frozen by it all. 

You turn your head to look up to him as you also zip down his pants. He tried to think about anything else, because he felt on fire.

“Can you take these off?” You ask him kindly, and he looks. Briefly confused. “I really wanna suck you off”

Oh god. He almost cums on his pants. Oh god.  He repeats on his mind as he moves a bit to take off his pants, at least to his knees. Oh god, oh god. His mind tried to remain sane, he tried to think about some maths, the comfort of simple logic tries to centre himself. 

You look pleasantly surprised by his size, and you hummed in delight and he saw how you bite your lower lip. His cocks spring free, fully hard and the precum leaking out from the tip. He looked nervously at you, as his cock practically begged your attention and affections, and he could feel a turmoil form on his stomach as he pleaded with his eyes for you to do something about it. 

“So big…” you praise him with a smirk, and he looks away in shame as he blushes. It was a good thing, he thinks, but he cannot help but feel hesitant.

You gently grab the base as your left hand rests on his left thigh, helping you as you lean down to capture the tip on your mouth, and he leans slightly back as if trying to squirm away. He looks at you, overwhelmed at the warm and moist sensation around his cock, ever so slightly, but so intense at the same time. He pants as if he just ran a marathon, looking down at you as his balls tighten and feel so ready to cum. But he forces himself not to.

“Oh… A-Ah, fuck…” he says as you take his dick out of your mouth to lick it, from his balls to his tip. God, no one really prepares you to know how easy it is to cum when a girl sucks you off.

He tries to think of equations, some diagrams or anything, anything to not cum so fast. You have his cock again in your mouth, sucking on his tip and your tongue moves to tease him as well. He was going insane.

He looks at you, with your bright eyes full of delight and mischief looking up back at him, as his cock was deeper and deeper on your throat, making its way through your warm mouth. 

And you didn’t seem to mind how the drool was spilling out from your mouth, wettening your chin and how you gagged slightly the more deep you swallowed him. He was amazed, truly, looking down at you as you sucked him off. 

It was different from how he imagined. He thought that at his first time, he would lead the way, he would be confident (because he knew about porn and how these things worked) and he would be dominant enough. Yet now, he feels unsure, trembling as his balls shaked in need to release, because you were amazing and so hot. 

Maybe he didn’t know a thing about this all. He thinks, as his shoulders tense from how good the head of his cock feels in your warm throat. It sends shivers on his spine and he has to whimper pathetically. 

“You are so perfect…, I swear” He mumbles without breath, whimpering pathetically. You would have giggled, because he didn’t need to swear, but he was cute to do so.

You move your hand to take the hair out of his face, and you grab his right hand, and he doesnt get at first what you mean, until you let his hand on your hair, it is when he understands that you want him to guide you and move his hips. 

His own hips hesitate at the beginning , strange at how he is supposed to move without looking ridiculous or being uncomfortable. Instead, he takes your hair carefully, with both hands as he leaves a deep breath out. 

His little whimpers are amazing, and so hot, you love to hear it. It was almost quiet, very low, but it was a delight to hear how he whimpers as his cock twitches in your mouth.

He moves your hair up and down on his body, fucking your face slowly. He didn’t want to be reckless, and when you needed to, he allowed you to have air from time to time. 

His balls were on fire, and his dick was so hard and it felt so good as you deepthroated him that he was at the verge of cumming. 

“I’m… oh, I'm going to cum, m’sorry…” he whimpers, moving your head onto his cock more harshly, but still careful not to make a mess and make you choke on his cock. He would feel bad if he hurt you like that, especially when you do him a favour.

His hips hesitate as he starts cumming, and he releases your head because he guesses it could be overwhelming. But you do not back away, rather swallow all of his spending in your mouth, savouring it delighted as you looked up to him, and he opened his mouth in awe. 

You were his wettest dream come true.

What are the chances, the possibility that a pretty girl like you, just looked at him and decided to do this? To give him the best head ever? To help him lose his virginity, thinking he is worth the chance when you are out of his league? 

He is a man of mathematics and logic. And even being good at probability, he knew the chances were almost zero. Almost.

And you looked so brightly at him as you cleaned some of his cum dripping down from your chin and licking it, not to waste a bit. 

“It… it was good?”

“Yeah” you say without a breath, as you smile. “I love your dick, it is so… amazing” He can almost cum again when he sees you lick your lips.

“Oh.” He says a bit flustered, his mind almost numb from his orgasm. “T-Thank you…” 

It is your smile who makes him smile a bit, awkwardly and with his cheeks red. He cannot believe this is luck. He is dumb struck, looking at your lovely face with still red cheeks and a wide smile. And you just sucked him off.

He is guilty, and he looks down at your tits for a brief moment, but looks quickly at your face, as if ashamed of doing that. But you still have that alluring smile, looking at him. He still doesn’t get what it means, but he goes along with the flow. 

“You wanna see my tits?” You ask with a sweet tone, as if it was the normalest question ever. You have seen his eyes drop to your breasts and then to your face, it was cute.

Oh my god. He will likely cum immediately at the sight. He knows it, and his cheeks are red as he thinks of your question.

“Yeah, please…” He asks without breath, as he accommodates in bed trying for his cock not to give him away. 

“I would have worn something way cuter if I knew this was going to happen” You explain taking out your jacket, and to his no-surprise, you didn’t wear a shirt underneath, just the bright pink bra that poked out of your jacket. 

“You look beautiful” he murmurs looking at your still clothed breasts, and he then looks up to your face. “You… If this is your less fancy outfit, then god damn me” 

You giggle at his words, he surely was odd from all the guys you knew. Perhaps his lack of experience, perhaps his nerdy personality. You don’t know, but you find yourself wanting to do all filthy and kinky things with this nerdy man.

You take off your bra, with quickness, as he looks at you completely mesmerised by your nakedness in front of him. He blinks at your perky nipples completely to his sight, and his mind just goes off. He is pretty sure that if you asked him what 1 plus 1 was, he’d say a pair of fine tits.

“You can touch me, Mikey” you say with a teasing tone, that makes him look at your expression for a brief moment. “Like you can grope my tits and all…”

The boldness of her offer makes him salivate, he is sure, and the desire within him is just intense and he knows he has to. His left hand reaches out cautiously and grasps your right breast. 

Your soft sigh is enough for him to do it slightly more confidently, but still not too harsh. He doesn’t actually know how hard it hurts if someone gropes too aggressively, and so he prefers to be gentle with you, because you deserve all of it. 

“Here. Give me your other hand” You say, and before you can extend your hand to grab his, his right hand goes to your other breasts, as if he was waiting for it.

Your breath hitches before you giggle a bit, as he doesn’t understand you. His face is red, from embarrassment, from touching a girl, a very much real girl that desires him too, and from awkwardness in him.

“I meant, give me your hand” You say taking his right hand from your breast and he doesn’t wanna let go, but he does anyway. “I wanna… Mm. I wanna to show you something”

Again with coded words, he was unaware of its meaning. But he waited for you to tell him, as you looked at him with a smile as you waited for him to say it.

“Oh, uh…” Michael mutters as his brain finally took notice it was his turn to say something. “Eh… okay? Show me…” he says unsure what to say.

You guide his left hand down, under your skirt. He just noticed that you had not taken off your skirt yet, as he was still clothed and with his pants down. But he didn’t mind it so much as you pressed his hand against your clothed pussy. 

“You.. Y-You are really wet” he says slightly amazed, and you nod with a smile as he just leaves his hand there, a bit amazed as his fingers do the slightest move to spread the wetness on his fingers. You hum in delight as you feel how bold he might be becoming. 

“Yeah, I am” you nod to him with a smile, and he looks at you flustered, as he leaves an awkward chuckle. “And your cock is hard again”

He looked down at his dick, and in fact, he was getting hard again. He looked back at you, and he smiled a bit embarrassed. You were also smiling, and that was the only clue he got to know that you were having the time of your life.

“It’s because you are so hot…” he says in a weak attempt to justify himself. “and so pretty”

You laugh, as you kneel slightly to take off your skirt and kick it somewhere in his bedroom. You were only wearing your panties now, and he felt like a salivating dog wagging his tail at the sight. God he was pathetic.

He looked at you, and before he could try to do anything, you say.

“It will be better if you sit properly in the bed, not the edge. So you can lean back in the pillows”

He has no idea why he should lean back in the pillows, but again, he is not the one doing demands in this. In his eyes, you are doing him a favour, this was his wettest dream, and you surely got nothing from it.

He takes off his pants and he crawls to sit in the bed, his back against the pillows (he used at least three, he found it more comfortable) and so he watched at you with a smile, as you kneel up again, now to take off your panties.

“I swear that if i knew, I would have worn a prettier pair of underwear” you start teasingly, as you move your hands to the sides of your panties to take them off.

Oh god, he thinks once again, as the image of a naked woman is enough to send him into numbness again. He was just gaining confidence to take some part in this, but he was just so inexperienced, he had to decide on either cum desperately or trying to last longer, and he didn’t know that the last took all of his brain energy.

“Here” You say, grabbing his hand and leaving your panties in his hand. He looks at you, and you add “Another gift. You can keep it” 

He looks at you, slightly amazed by it. He holds your panties in his hand, and he can feel the wetness of it, knowing that you were (and are) so wet right now drives him insane. He looks at you and he blinks a bit surprised, and honestly, much more aroused. 

“Thank you..” he says as he appreciates this odd gift. He has no idea what use it may have apart from the sentimental one, but maybe it is like his own trophy? 

You get comfortable, still kneeling on the bed, you crawl to be atop of his lap. Each knee on the side of his thighs, and he has to look up to see you. Maybe his favourite part about this is how your tits are in front of his face. He loves it.

“Your hand” She asks, and when she extends her hand he is clever enough not to make the same mistake twice. He passes her his hand, and she guides it to her pussy once again.

Now he knows. Why men went to war for women. Why Troy was destroyed, for stealing one woman. Why men went insane for the touch of a woman. He gets it now. 

Your pussy drips wet as he touches it; bare and warm. He is surprised, in all honesty, as his fingers are rigidly moving forward and back. It is not rough; but it is rigid enough to let know his inexperience in the matter.

“I wanna make you feel good” He says looking at you, almost begging for you to teach him how. He wants to know the secrets that could have you squirm and moan crazily over him, as he was over you. 

“This is about you” You say, your hands moving to the edge of his shirt, to take it off from him. He helps you in it, and he leaves a breath as now both of you were naked in front of each other.

Your soft hand caresses his chest. He is no muscular guy; yet you caress him so tenderly that he has to look at you with that puppy look. He really wants to make you feel good.

“Tell me what to do.” He asks again, he looks pathetically needy to you; eager to make you cum on his fingers, and eager to learn how to please you.  His fingers linger hesitantly around your pussy, and he does his best guiding himself from little experience and instinct. 

You smirk as you bite your lower lip as you let a little whimper out. He was cute and hot, more than most guys you knew from before. Maybe getting with the nerd was a fantastic idea.

“I want you to fuck me” You say instead, smiling at him “I want your cock, not your fingers- for now. Besides, this is about you. You are the birthday boy”

As your hips lower on his lap, he takes off his fingers and looks at you sitting above his cock. You grind slightly as he opens his mouth agape slightly, the mere thought of fucking you has him all excited, and aroused.

“I do wanna.. Do that” Michael says with a longing smile, as you nod to him. The feeling of your pussy rubbing against his own dick. He can’t take it anymore, he longs for you too much. 

He is clumsy as he moves his hips, the head of his cock passing eagerly through your folds in search of your entrance, and he looks up at you as you moan at the feeling. He got something right. 

His puppy eyes catch your attention as his tip presses on your centre, and you look down at him a bit breathlessly. “You can’t cum so fast, Mikey. I want you to enjoy it” He nods when you tell him that, and he leaves a shaky breath at the feeling. 

“I… I’ll try…” He says looking at you, trying his best to hold back. But your body is too tempting for him. He is going to pass out, surely.

You move to search for something in your clothes, and you take a condom from somewhere. He isn’t too sure. He is looking at the ceiling waiting for you as he thinks on some hard equation from class, and he tries for the burning turmoil on his belly, full of lust and desire to calm down even a bit. He wants to have you moaning on his cock so hard, he will need strength.

Your movement is fluid when you put the condom on his length, and he is sure you have done this so many times. On other occasions, he’ll think something witty about it, but now he is rather intimidated. How is he supposed to compete with your experiences?

You move your hips slightly, as you start to sit down on his cock from one move. Slow and soft, he is sure you make sure it isn’t so intense for him, as your walls have a tight grip on his hard cock, and the feeling of finally being inside of a woman is incredibly intimate. His cock pulsates on your insides, and he has to look down, enjoying the sight of his thick cock stretching your pussy.

“Fuck…” You say breathlessly as you throw your head back, moaning in delight as you move your hips slightly.

“You’re so warm… and thigh..” he pants, his hands go to your hips as you ride him. 

“It feels nice?”

“More than that” He says looking up to you, and he whimpers as you move your hips. 

“I’ll let you get used to it.” You tell him softly “I think it could be a bit overwhelming, I guess”

“Yeah. A bit” he says with an awkward smile which makes you smile too, and you grab his cheeks as you lean a bit to kiss him softly. 

His enthusiasm is endearing, as he tries to passionately kiss you, but you are sticking with the slowness of it all. He whimpers a bit on your mouth as he can feel how your cunt tightens around him. 

Once you are apart, his glasses are again slowly sliding down on the bridge of his nose and you bite your lower lip as you hold a moan. God, what a hot nerd you are fucking.

“You are so amazing” He murmurs, looking up to you “And you feel so good…”

“Uh huh…” You hum as you whimper a bit, and so does he. 

“And I have… I have never done this before…” He mutters looking at where your pussy swallows his dick.

“I know” You say, giving him a peck. “But you make me so aroused, so hot…”

Michael blinks a bit confused, but he gains slight confidence in this. He nods at you and he lets his hands fall by the side of your legs, and he can only focus on the way that you ride him. You squeeze him, in all the way he can think of. Your cunt is squeezing his shaft. Your knees are squeezing his legs. All of your existence squeezes him, and he loves the feeling. 

He looks up at your face, you are moaning openly and you have your eyes closed as your hands rest on his biceps, helping you bounce on his cock. You look amazing. 

And your tits, God, your tits. Bouncing on his face as you ride him, all perky and perfect for him, and the sight of your tits make him leak more precum in the condom, as he tilts his hips slightly up so he gets deeper in the warmth of your cunt.

He stays looking at you, while his balls are tightening at how wet your pussy is. He is mesmerised by you, he cannot even find himself letting any sound out of his mouth. He is almost numb, looking at you as he makes you moan like this. 

He is making you moan desperately as you ride him. He is the one responsible to see how aroused he truly has you. You lean your body closer to his chest, moaning as you ride him, and he bites his lip desperate to cum. 

His own hips rut back to yours, thrusting clumsily as you sink down on his cock. Your pussy clenches around his cock, and he’s fully engrossed in the sensation.

Michael wants to cum so bad. He doesn’t think he has ever been in such a need to cum.It’s all his foggy mind can think of, cumming and you. And cumming in you, those two subjects interrelationate. 

“Tell me” He pleads, which makes you look at him again “Please, tell me how to make you cum”

His puppy eyes, how his glasses are slightly off on him, makes you moan almost on his face. 

“Your hand” You say, and he got the clue now. He is a quick learner, and instead of letting you hold his hand, he moves it down to your pussy. 

You moan at the feeling of his hesitant hand there, and he laughs a bit breathlessly, growing slightly bolder and he loves how desperate you seem. “Teach me”

“Fine, fine, wait..” You say stopping your movements, as reluctant you both may be to that.

You lean slightly back, your hand goes to grab his knee to help you not fall. He can see more of your pussy like that, and you sigh as if trying to think clearly.

“Here” You say, grabbing his wrist and moving it slightly up. He has no idea what you mean, but he is learning, so he follows your lead. “This is my clit, so you rub it… Not harshly, not too aggressive. It can be intense, but… you have to do it gently. Firm, but gently” 

He has no idea how to do both, but he’ll try. Before he can start, you grab his wrist again, and he is confused. What else is there that you take so long to say?!

You take his hand up, and your mouth is quick to engulf his index and middle finger inside, wettening them  with your own saliva before letting them go; not without leaving a provocative lick beforehand. 

“Now” You say with a slight smile “Just gently.” You repeat, and he nods.

He is so going to cum just from seeing you lick his fingers so lustfully. 

Michael tries his best, he does. His fingers find the little thing, so small, and he is unsure what response something so tiny could do. But anyways, he does as told. His fingers hesitate before rubbing slightly there, left to right at the beginning, and then up and down.

“F-Fuck!” You say almost closing your legs around his hand and dick, but you force yourself to remain open. Your other hand goes to hold you onto the mattress of the bed, so you don’t fall. You are leaning backwards now, and he can see your body in all it’s glory. 

It does have an amazing effect, he realises, as he rubs circles on your clit and you moan even higher, your legs tremble as you force them open, and you start lowering on his cock again. Unlike the last time, you don’t take the time to make sure his cock enters and comes out fully, but you just grind against it, and when you move up and down, it is barely just in the base of his cock. But the tip? It never leaves your wetness.

He wishes he could see the bump of his cock on your belly. He looks at your abdomen, and he can practically imagine how the shape of his cock would poke out from your abdomen.  

“I want to cum” He says, panting as his brain is overwhelmed. He is overdoing things, he tries to rationalise this, but between rubbing your clit, your cunt wrapping around his cock and his moans leaving his mouth, he feels like he will pass out any moment now.

“M-Me too” You whine, desperate as your hips rut more desperate on his cock, and that turns him even more. 

He has made a girl desperate for him. And he’ll make a girl cum on his cock.

Michael makes sure to rub your clit in a delicious manner. Or what he guesses is a delicious manner. And since you almost sob your moans, he’d say he is doing a fucking amazing job. 

“FUCK” He says as he feels your cunt squeeze him so much, that his mind practically goes blank “I-I’m cumming” He barely gets the words out as he feels himself spent on the condom inside.

He moans, loudly, it could be embarrassing if it wasn’t so pleasurable, and he has to throw his head back from the pleasure on how his shoulders tense up.

You grab his wrist, and he gets the clue that he has to keep his touch on your clit. Your cheeks are red from stimulation, and as he pants and whimpers from his orgasm, as he rubs your clit. It doesn’t take long, as you practically cum all over his cock, milking his dick and making sure his balls go empty. 

Even if he orgasmed first, your peak leaves him dry, and spent in more than one way. He doesn’t think he will ever hear a girl moan so loud and pleased as you when you cum thanks to him. 

When you fall to his side, he takes off the condom, leaving it on his bedside table. He looks at you, panting hard on his side, and he feels the same, as he looks at you, still mesmerised by you. 

He searches for your hand, awkwardly, and he moves you slightly closer to him. 

You both remain breathlessly, pants as you two face the ceiling. 

“So” You start saying, and he turns his head to yours, and you have another of your mischievous, alluring smiles on your face. “Have you blown the candles?”

[gracieheartspedro]

How Long

pairing: f!reader x brother-in-law!joel miller

description: your boyfriend tommy miller is a cheating bastard. luckily, your brother-in-law joel is nice enough to help you get your mind off of it.

word count: 5.1k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, pre!outbreak joel, this is porn, joel is a consent king though!, talk of horrible sex life, cheating, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), dirty talk, multiple orgasms, pet names

author's note: hey lovers (; I have been teasing this one awhile. i may continue this if you guys like it a lot. this was a request from an anon, i hope they like it!! i'm almost at 400 followers and I was gonna release this when I hit that, but I am too excited to share this. leave me your thoughts! my requests are still open! <3

You and Tommy went way back. You had crushed on him since high school, his charisma was hypnotic and you were hooked the moment he asked for your phone number. You became borderline obsessed. He was the ideal boyfriend. A huge mama’s boy, respectful, and hilarious. 

You hadn’t ever questioned Tommy’s intentions with you. You two even talked marriage. 

It wasn’t until his 26th birthday that you noted a shift in his behavior and when everything officially fell apart. You had just spent all afternoon at his brother, Joel’s, house. You and Joel arranged a surprise birthday barbeque and you were so excited to spend his special day with him and his whole family.

The whole day, you lied and said you were going for a girls day out with your sister, who was newly single. Instead, you and Joel slaved over the stove making Tommy’s favorites. You also decorated the shit out of Joel’s whole house, with the help of his tween daughter, Sarah. 

Joel told him to come over to help with fixing up his truck, but in actuality you all jumped out of your hiding spots and yelled “happy birthday!”

He hardly reacted. He was dazed seeing your beautiful smile peak up behind Joel’s recliner. 

His attitude was distant the whole night. He wouldn’t kiss you, and pulled away every time you went in to wrap your arms around his waist. He drank way more than you expected, tallying up about 10 beers. 

Joel noticed it, too. 

Joel even asked if he should start taking it easy and cool it on the beer. That only pissed Tommy off, which lead you to break up an argument in front of their own mother. Joel was annoyed, noting how shitty Tommy was being towards you. He was ready to fight his own brother on his birthday.

After the festivities and helping Joel with the dishes, you bid the whole family farewell. Tommy was too drunk to drive home, so you knew you would take him home in your Toyota Corolla, telling Joel you’d be back tomorrow to get his truck. 

“Drive safe you two,” Joel said in the driveway after assisting Tommy to the car. Even after Tommy yelled and fussed at him, he still gladly accepted Joel’s help. He knew he couldn’t walk any more than 50 feet. You smiled watching them, happy they could make amends so quickly, and started up your engine. 

The whole ride home, Tommy kept checking his flip phone. The screen would light up into his glazed over eyes and he’d huff in frustration. 

“Everything okay, baby?” You finally decide to ask. 

You glance over in his direction and you could tell he was annoyed by the question. You bite the inside of your cheek, anticipating him to blow up at you next. 

Tommy was not a nice drunk. He would blow up at the drop of a hat. There’d been countless times where he’d pick a fight with you after you picked him up from a bar or a friend’s house. You learned not to talk on any rides home when he was drinking. But you couldn’t help yourself. 

“You want my honest answer?”

Of course, you did. But when he says it like that?

“What is it, Tommy?”

He clears his throat, “I’m fuckin’ your sister.”

You felt your world crashing around you in that instant. You slam on your breaks on a main road, unable to actively drive due to the shocking news. You pull off into an abandoned parking lot, your hands shaking as you throw the car in park. 

“What?”

You didn’t even want to look over at him, your eyes welling with tears. 

“Yeah,” Is all he says, his voice changing, “I’m sick of lyin’. It’s only been a couple times. But she wants to meet back up.”

His drunk honesty was like vomit coming out of his mouth. Constant and sickening. He was so heartless with his words. This wasn’t your Tommy. What made everything so much worse was that it was your fucking little sister. You two didn’t have the best relationship, but you still cared deeply for her. This was the ultimate betrayal. You couldn’t believe that she, of all people, would try to destroy your picture perfect life.

Not so picture perfect anymore.

The soft hum of the radio takes up the air. You felt like you could suffocate with all of the tension. 

“How long?”

He chuckles lowly, “Longer than I’d probably like to admit. Why do you think her ex dumped her?”

You finally turn to him. He looked remorseless, not even batting an eye at your distraught expression.

“Get the fuck out of my car, Tommy,” You say sternly, “I don’t want to see your face ever again.”

“Oh come on baby,” He groans, “At least take me home.”

“Get,” The tears begin to fall, “Out. Now.”

He throws his hands up in surrender, “Fine, don’t want to watch you cry, anyway. Makes me feel like shit.”

He opens the car door and you watch as he stumbles out. He practically falls on the concrete, his footing wobbly from the alcohol. If you were as callous as him, you’d back your car right over him, but instead you sped off as soon as the door slammed shut. 

Your hands are still vibrating, unsure of what to do next, you pick up your phone and dial Joel. 

He answers after three rings. 

“‘Sup, sweetheart?”

His Southern drawl is hushed, like he was trying to be quiet for someone. It was late, maybe he was putting Sarah to bed. 

“Your brother.”

It’s all you could say before breaking out into a deep sob. He becomes panicked, immediately springing into older brother mode, begging you to tell him where you were. 

You finally catch your breath, “He’s a cheating bastard. He fucked my sister and I left him in the old Hecht’s parking lot.”

Joel lets out a long sigh, “Where are you?”

“I’m driving,” You mutter, choking back more sobs you feel coming up, “I can’t go home.”

You knew going home would be painful. All the photos lining your walls of you and Tommy. The pictures with your own sister. All of his belongings scattered all over the house. You knew you’d spiral, untangling the mess and missed signs. 

“Come back to my house,” He suggests, “I’ll go get Tommy and take him home. The back door will be unlocked, just come right in and settle down. Make some tea or somethin’.”

You nod even though he can’t see you. 

Joel was the older brother you never had. He was mature and honest. You had come to him a couple times to analyze Tommy and his behavior. It didn’t happen often, but he was great at advice. You trusted him. He was family to you.

“Thanks Joel,” You wipe your tears, “See you in a bit.”

-

Luckily Sarah was fast asleep upstairs, snuggled up soundly, while you tried to contain your sobs. You couldn’t believe how drastically this evening turned.

Tommy cheated on you with your sister.

The man you were hoping to marry and settle down with? The one who was adored by your parents? The one you told all your darkest secrets to?

You had no clue how he would ever come back from this. And he did it with your sister?

You still could not grasp that it was her. The girl who always came to you for boy advice? Hell, she came to you last week asking about a guy she had be-

It was fucking Tommy. She wanted advice on how to woo your fucking boyfriend. 

You wanted to strangle her too, but who knows what lies he may have been leading. You wanted the whole story, but you didn’t want to open a can of worms so late in the evening. You weren’t going to be sleeping, plagued by your own thoughts and emotions.

You’re curled up on Joel’s couch, using his huge knitted blanket as a cape. You turned on the TV only to give your cries some background noise.

Just when you stop the tears, Joel walks in with this look on his face. Disappointment. Rage. 

“How ya holdin’ up, sweet girl?”

Joel had tons of pet names for you, but that was a new one. He has always called you anything but your actual name. 

“Not good,” You say, choking back more tears. You were practically all cried out, your cheeks were stained bright red. Joel shuffles over to you, dropping his keys down on the coffee table. He plops down on the couch next to me.

“He’s a fuckin’ idiot,” He mutters, patting your unclothed thigh. Maybe it was the words he said that sent goosebumps up your body, not the fact he took a long second to remove his hand from your leg.

“I just can’t… Why would he do this?”

He huffs, shrugging his broad shoulders, “I asked him and he said it’s cuz you ain’t puttin’ out like you used to. Said that your sister came onto him and he couldn’t say no.”

It felt like another stab to the heart. You and Tommy had sex like three times a week. Every time he came inside you and praised you. You on the other hand, never came and had grown sick of having to finish yourself off every time it happened. So yeah, maybe you weren’t the eager youngin’ you were before, but you still fucked him whenever he wanted.

“That’s horseshit! I fuck him all the time. He is just… he’s a fucking cheating bastard. I just can’t believe it was her. Like what man fucks around with his girl’s own sister? He knows better.”

You’re trying to rationalize his behavior in your head. But Joel is not as kind.

“He obviously doesn’t, sweet girl. He…” He drifts off, catching himself for saying how he truly felt about his brother. Once he looks into your puffy red eyes, his tune changes, “He’s a stupid motherfucker for letting a girl like you go. Don’t know much about your sister, but she has some explainin’ to do, too.”

Your heart flutters a bit. Joel’s accent was so much more pronounced when he was angry, it was kind of hot. Why are you thinking that right now?

“I just can’t believe he would do something so… heartless. He didn’t even act sorry, Joel.”

“The alcohol made him bold, that’s for sure. Doesn’t ‘cuse the behavior, but ya know,” He sits back into his couch, “‘m sorry, sweetheart.”

You turn to face him, “Makes me think of the time he accused me of cheating.”

“He accused you of cheatin’? When?”

It was years ago, right after your 21st birthday. Joel and Tommy took you and a couple of your friends out to a club in downtown Austin. You took so many shots, you ended up dancing a bit too close with Joel. It led to a fight you had never brought up to Joel himself, but nonetheless, Tommy thought you had a thing for his older brother.

Sure, Joel was nice. He was a bit more serious than Tommy, always trying to be the rational one. He was an excellent and present father, dedicating his entire life to raising Sarah. He had similar features to Tommy. Tall, dark hair, beautiful brown eyes. When you talked to him, those eyes of his were so laser focused on what you said, sometimes you found yourself stumbling over your words. 

Maybe it was a little crush. 

“It was years ago,” You confess, looking down at your bitten back cuticles, “He thought I had a thing for you.”

His eyes zero in on your lips, like he’s trying to take the words out of your mouth, one by one.

“A thing? What type of thing?”

You shake your head, pushing your face into your hands. This wasn’t something you wanted to talk about, especially not now. But it was distracting you from thinking about what you could’ve done. Instead, you’re reminding yourself of all the shitty things Tommy has done over the years. That “perfect boyfriend” you had in the beginning was falling apart a long time ago. You just hadn’t seen the signs right in front of you. Now here they are, splattered all over the floor.

“He thought you and I had a bit too much fun on my 21st, I don't know! He always acted so weird when I talked about you. You’re like my brother, I would never cross that line.”

The silence in the room was deafening. You finally raise your head, looking at Joel’s contemplative face. 

“Never?”

You stare at him, looking for a smile to crack across his face. Like it was a joke or something.

But it wasn’t.

The air in the room shifted.

“Joel,” You mumble, before his fingers reach up and trace your bottom lip gently, “We can’t.”

“Why ‘cause I’m like your brother, or ‘cause you’re still banking on kissin’ and makin’ up with Tommy?”

It was a fair question. Making up with Tommy was never even a question, though. After being burned so harshly, you didn’t see any redemption. He was done for. Once that confession slipped past his lips, he was as good as gone. 

This would be the greatest revenge. Fucking his brother?

What could you lose?

Joel could be your rebound. Something to ease the harsh sting you still felt in your heart. You start to feel guilty pile in the pit of your tummy. But then you hear Tommy’s words ringing in your head. 

“I’m fuckin’ your sister.”

Yeah, you could use some revenge. 

“You can’t tell him,” You murmur, making sure it’s in a whisper. Even if you wanted this to be revenge, you didn’t want Tommy to know, “Ever.”

“It’ll be between you and me, baby girl.”

You nod, finally accepting his offer. He grabs your legs and pulls you into his lap. You never thought you’d see the day where you would be mounted on top of Joel Miller. His eyes feasted on you in a way that sent tingles straight down to your core.

“I can’t lie, baby girl,” He purrs, his hands tracing you from your thighs all the way up to your shoulders, “I have thought this scenario out countless times.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” His hand finds its way to your neck, “Seein’ you at family barbeques, watchin’ you at bars with Tommy. Always wanted to pull you into a bathroom and get a feel of these,” He runs his hands down your chest, catching the edge of your yellow tank top. Tommy’s favorite color on you. He pulls it down, revealing your white bra underneath. It was your favorite push up, a Christmas present from Tommy. 

He was littering your body, but instead of Tommy’s hands removing every trace of himself away from your body, it was his brother.

Joel doesn’t take note of your dazed expression, he’s too focused on your cleavage spilling over your bra. His fingers trace back to the clasp, his fingers expertly unhooking it. It sent chills down your back, while your boobs fall further out of the bra. He helps you shimmy it off your front, his eyes lighting up when your boobs rest right in his eyeline.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” He groans, his thumb and pointer finger tugging on your left nipple. You hiss, letting yourself get out of your own head for a moment. Your boobs were extremely sensitive, which is why every man you’d ever been with used that to their advantage. Instead of treating your pussy to a good time, they just toyed with your nipples while drilling into you, which usually had you cumming after a couple minutes. Deep down, you wished Tommy had actually gave your pussy the time of day. Eat you out, finger you until you saw stars. But he never had “time for that”. 

His words.

Joel wraps his lips around your nipple, letting his tongue circle around your areola. He uses his open hand to massage your other tit. Once he releases your nipple, he leaves love bites at the swell of your boobs. He groans at your reaction, which was grinding your hips achingly slow across his lap.

“Mmm,” You hum, your hands finding his brown locks, “More.”

“‘m not gonna fuck you here,” He scowls, “Gonna take you to my bed.”

Without warning, he stands up, gripping onto your thighs to take you with him. You yelp in shock, throwing your arms around his neck. 

“I got you,” He states, walking down the hall to his bedroom. You had been in there before, only to grab his wallet one day when you guys were in a rush to get to Sarah’s soccer game. 

It was only slightly messy and smelled like him. Clean laundry and strawberry shampoo. 

You were thrown atop his unmaid sheets, bouncing a bit at the impact. You decide to use the time of Joel crawling onto to the bed, to completely discard your tank top. Joel’s body takes over yours, his one hand propping him up, the other feeling your sides and scooping up your breast. 

“Think I’m gonna take my time with you,” He grunts, his hand finding your short’s belt loops, “Make you forget everythin’ and focus on me.”

You nod, agreeing to his terms. 

He sits back on his knees, tugging down your shorts and thong. He hisses as soon as he notes the wetness on your lacey panties. Once he tosses the items beside the bed, he nudges your knees apart. 

“Damn, baby girl,” He just looks at you completely spread for him, shaking his head in disbelief, “Tommy’s a fuckin’ idiot. Could look at this pussy every minute of every day.”

You moan before you can retaliate, your mind responding to his fingers tracing your slit up and down. You watch him crawl up you, his lips so close to yours. You two hadn’t even kissed yet, instantly going to tearing each other’s clothes off. It felt more intimate, more real. 

He finally leans in, pursing his lips to meet yours. 

Joel was gentler than expected. Tommy was always hurried, his kisses only to warm you up a bit. You never really kissed during sex either, because he always had you doggy, which wasn’t ideal for kisses. 

Joel’s kisses took your breath away. He was slow and methodical, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You finally decide to pull him down onto your naked body, his hips settling between yours. The action made him a bit more eager, as he grinded his crotch into your wet center. 

“Gonna have me cumming in my jeans, sweet thing,” He laughs, pulling away from your swollen lips. He crawls back down the bed, his shoulders resting between your thighs this time. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, hesitantly. 

He smiles again, “‘m gonna eat this beautiful pussy of yours. Unless you don’t want me to.”

You had no real objections, it just something you had never fully enjoyed with anyone else before. You were willing to see what Joel Miller could bring to the table. You nod your head in agreement, letting him rest his hand on your lower tummy, holding you in place for his mouth. He ducks down, pressing small kisses over your clit. His actions already had you writhing under his touch. 

He continues on, gripping your stomach a bit harder as he explores your pussy with his tongue. He switches between sucking and licking, eventually settling with running his tongue in circles inside of you. You were a groaning mess, your hand eventually finding your mouth so you could control the volume. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself with how loud you could be. He stops as soon as you do it. 

“You ain’t gotta do that,” He says, his mouth wet with your slick, “I wanna hear those pretty little moans of yours. Don’t worry about anyone hearin’ ya.”

You take your hand off your mouth and he continues on with his assault on your folds. It’s sending you into overdrive, watching him go down on you. He was so hot, splayed out between your thighs, devouring you whole. 

His exploration ends with him wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking you up like a straw. You couldn’t believe how good the vibration felt. 

You were feeling that heat in your stomach, so as soon as Joel slipped his hand up and began adding fingers inside you, you knew you were done for. He starts with two, fucking you slowly and systematically. He curls his fingers up like a hook, his lips still wrapped around your bud. 

This was it. This is what you were missing. 

Your unrestrained pleas don’t fall on deaf ears. Your orgasm hits you like a semi-truck. You reach for anything in your vicinity, which happened to be Joel’s hair and his white sheets. He didn’t let up on you as you came around his fingers, fucking you through it. 

“Holy f-fuck,” You stutter, “Joel what the fuck?”

“We are just gettin’ started, sweetheart,” He states, standing up beside the bed to take his clothes off. His cock was standing at attention in his boxers before he tore them off. 

Tommy was above average, but Joel was well endowed. 

You gape at the view, unable to really form a coherent sentences. 

“You’re droolin’,” He jokes, finding his way back on top of you. You giggle, letting the joke roll of your shoulder, instead of letting it embarrass you. He finds your lips again, kissing you roughly this time. You could tell he was aching for you, his hips finding their way between yours again. 

“Oh,” You say, feeling his tip nudge your folds, “I’m on birth control, by the way.”

“I assumed so,” He states plainly, kissing your neck and chest, “Won’t cum in you unless you want me to.”

You grin, “You’re all about consent, ain’t ya?”

He laughs, “You’re in control here, baby girl. ‘M just here to get your mind off all the shit.”

You have never been so enamored by a man in your life. He was saying all the right things, but you knew in your heart he wasn’t just saying anything. Joel was a genuine guy. He never lied to you or belittled you.

The longer you’re under him the more you start to realize that this is what you’ve wanted all along. 

He brings you back to reality with an feverish kiss, drawing you back to the moment. His hands trail down your side, tickling you a bit. 

“Hey,” You murmur, pulling away from his delicious mouth, “I want to… I uh-“

You don’t know how to say it. To be honest, you and Tommy were in a routine with sex so you didn’t know how to ask to suck someone off. You usually just did it first to get it done and over with. But you felt like you needed to do it for Joel, not out of obligation, but because you wanted to see him squirm under your touch. You have thought about it more than once. 

“Words, sweetheart.”

“Let me suck your dick.”

He smiles, letting out a slight chuckle at your demand. He never thought he’d hear that coming from your mouth. He waits a second, acting like he’s seriously contemplating the offer. 

Of course he was going to accept. 

You sit up, giving him more space to lay down next to you. You crawl over his legs, settling between his calves. His cock was red, the veins so prominent. It was just waiting for you. He tucks his one arm behind his head, propping it up to watch you put on a show. 

“Let me know if I’m doing okay,” You ask sheepishly. You wanted to punch yourself for saying something so stupid. You were never confident in your abilities and you didn’t want to disappoint Joel. 

He nods, watching you grab onto his shaft with your hands, “You’ll do great, baby girl.”

You spit into your hands once you realize you need more lubrication. You crouch more, jerking him off slowly. He is already so reactive, throwing his head back against his headboard.

You begin to tease him, peppering kisses onto his shaft and tip as it leaked. You smile when you hear him hiss at you toying with him. You finally wrap your lips around his dick, sucking in your cheeks as you pull your head back. He was so big you couldn’t physically get your mouth completely down his length. He was girthy, too, which didn’t help either when it came to almost unhinging your jaw to take all of him. 

“Such a good girl,” He praises, taking your hair into his grip, “You ain’t gotta take it all.”

The reassurance was comforting. You didn’t feel any pressure with Joel, which only made him more desirable in your eyes. 

You watch his face twist in delight every time you take him into your mouth, wrapping his cock in your saliva. 

“Keep doin’ that and ‘m gonna cum in that mouth,” His drawl is so buttery and deep, your center literally clenches.

You pull off of him, gaining some confidence in your bedroom talk. 

“Need that done somewhere else.”

He shakes his head, sitting up more to manhandle you up to his lap. As you slide across his body, you feel his wet cock touch your inner thighs.

Your mouth falls open as soon as his hands grab your hips and settle you right over his length. You are on your knees on either side of his thighs, looking down at him and his absolutely spent expression. His curls were standing in all different directions and his eyes were dark with anticipation.

“Want me to do the honors?”

He grabs his cock, positioning it right below your opening. Your lips twitch upward, shaking your head positively.

He lines you up, pushing his hips upward. He is stretching you immediately, the angle making you crumble under his touch already. Your legs practically give out when he’s partially sheathed in you, which causes you just to sit and take the rest of him in you. 

“Oh my fucking god,” You moan out, shutting your eyes to soak in every twitch, “I have never been this fucking full.”

Your eyes fly open, realizing what you just insinuated.

“Don’t worry, baby girl. I knew he wasn’t givin’ you exactly what you needed,” He starts to guide your hips to circle his, “I give you what you need.”

You never expected him to be so confident, but it was so hot. You rested your hands on his pecks and started easing yourself up and down onto his length. His lips flick upward, watching you get yourself off on his dick. He loved watching you like this, just enjoying yourself.

After a minute, he realizes he can’t let you be the only one doing the work. You were so in your own world, riding him and feeling every inch of him. Your blissed out mind gets over taken when he grabs you and rolls on onto your back. He is on his knees as he grabs your legs with both of his hands, spreading you out. He grinds into you, his cock hitting you at a different angle now. 

You moan out, reaching out to grab his shoulders. He takes the hint and dips down to capture your lips again, caging your body between his. He picks up the pace when you start to press your tongue forward into his mouth. You can’t help but whimper at how good he feels. 

“You fuck me so good,” You mewl. He was panting, his hot breath fanning your wildly tangled hair. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, focusing on making you feel good. Every pump inside you brought you closer to that familiar warm feeling. He notices your heat clenching around him, which makes him want to change up his technique. He pushes off the pillows, grabbing your hips and slamming into you at a rate you didn’t know Joel was capable of. 

“God, I can’t believe how fuckin’ good you feel, baby,” He pants, his thumb finding your swollen bud. As soon as he puts pressure there, you’re screaming out. “Mhm, that feel good? This cock better than his?”

“Yes, Joel, oh my god!”

He doesn’t let up. He wants to see you fall apart so bad, knowing those beautiful whimpers will send him into ecstasy. 

“Cum for me, baby girl. Know you’re aching to,” He clenches his teeth, “Let go.”

You have never had your vision go white when you orgasm. It’s like you’re about to see the gates to Heaven. He holds your body, making sure to feel every nerve in your body fire off into euphoria. You don’t even know what you’re saying, you just know it’s an iteration of his name and a bunch of cuss words as you reach your peak.

You were absolutely obsessed. You knew it as soon as the come down brought back your vision and you saw Joel. He was throwing his head back while painting your insides with his cum. He looks so delicious, his entire toned upper body glistening with sweat. 

He had to be the only man in the world, in that moment. 

Once he pulls out, you truly realize how sensitive your core is. You shiver, feeling his cum trickling down your backside. You wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. You just fucked your boyfriend’s brother. And it was the best sex you’d ever had in your life. 

You thought you’d feel that all too familiar regret, but instead you just look over at Joel as he flops down next to you. He’s staring at you, a slight smirk playing on his lips. You were trying to find the right words to say to him. He just did the Lord’s work. 

Do you say thank you?

“You okay,” He asks while he runs his hand up your arm, causing goosebumps to litter your skin. 

You grin, “I’m okay.”

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” 

He was worried you’d go home and see Tommy passed out on the couch where he left him and regret everything. He knew you would probably stay here anyway, but he anticipated you taking the guest room next to Sarah’s. 

But you weren’t going to take the guest room. No, you wanted to spend the rest of the night in his arms. Maybe even go for round two. 

“As long as I get to stay right here,” You purr, taking his hand from your arm. You bring it up to your lips and kiss his fingers, “Right beside you.”

END

[lulunothulu]

Hello again!! Back with another request because you blew the first one out of the park 😍 this time could it be reader is a pilot and best friends with both Rooster and Hangman but they’ve been at each other’s throats lately so she decides to get the rest of the group in on a fainting prank she pulls on the two of them to force them to work together just fluffy worried boys

I love this and your brain 😭

“Hurt”

Hangman x Rooster x Reader

“You know next time I want a stupid opinion, I’ll ask for your input,” Rooster spits. The insult slapping Hangman as if it were Rooster’s hand.

“You know I’m right,” Hangman spits back. “You’re being reckless and you’re gonna get someone killed. Focus or get the fuck out of the pilot’s seat. You don’t need to be like your daddy you know.”

“The fuck did you say to me?” Rooster asks, getting in Hangman’s face.

“Woah, woah, hey,” you say, standing between them and holding a palm on each of their chests. “Calm the fuck down.”

“Tell him to calm down,” Hangman tells you.

“Tell him to watch his mouth,” Rooster counters.

These two handsome idiots are your best friends, the best you’d had in a very long time. So to see them arguing for the past two weeks had hurt more than anything.

They’d bicker about everything and anything. Yesterday, it was the fact that Rooster was breathing too close to Hangman’s ear at Hard Deck. The day before that, Hangman’s big mouth said something about Rooster’s dad and how flying with Maverick could get Rooster in the same predicament his dad did—dead.

“Just go take a walk,” you tell them. “Both of you.”

They mutter something under their breathes but they walk away.

“We need to do something about those two,” Phoenix tells you, wrapping and arm over your shoulders.

“You wanna make them box it all out?” Coyote asks.

“Nah, let’s make them drink their livers away and then make them fight,” Fanboy suggests.

“Those are terrible ideas,” you laugh.

“Maybe they’ll come together if something happens to you,” you hear Bob say quietly.

“What was that Bobby?” You ask.

The pilot turns red, looking anywhere but at you before clearing his throat and repeating, “Maybe they’ll come together if something happens to you. You know? If you get hurt?”

You rub your temple, thinking for a second before smiling and planting a kiss on his cheek—making him turn even more red than before.

“Bobby, you’re a genius.”

~*~*~*~*~

A few beers (and a lot of bad ideas) later, you and the rest of the Dagger Squad have a plan set in motion. A plan so great, the two dumbasses will stop fighting all together.

“Okay Bobby, are we ready?” You ask.

“They should be coming in any second,” he tells you.

See, the plan was to make it look like you’d taken a nasty fall and have Rooster and Hangman find you. What you didn’t anticipate was actually falling and getting hurt.

You’d just gotten the signal from Phoenix and Bob when you felt yourself slip from the ladder going into the jet you were set to fly that day.

It felt like a movie the way you fell.

Everyone around you screamed or yelled out. The world around you slowed down and you could see the looks of horror on Hangman and Rooster’s face.

They rushed to you but they were too late. You’d already fallen and hit your head in the concrete floor of the hangar.

“Is she breathing?” Hangman asks, holding your head in a stable position.

“If you would give me a second, I can check.” Rooster tells him harshly. He checks your pulse point on your neck and putting an ear by your mouth before nodding. “Yeah, her heart is pounding and her breathing is shallow. We need to get her to the medic.”

Nodding, Jake lifts you into his arms and begins to race toward the medical room—Rooster on his heels.

“She fell from the ladder going into her jet,” Rooster tells the nurse while Hangman gently places you on the gurney.

“We’ll take her to get some vitals and a CT scan.”

The two aviators fall back, watching as the nurses wheel you to another part of the medical building. Rooster is the one to speak first.

“She terrified me,” he croaks.

“She’s gonna be fine,” Hangman counters.

“Why does everything turn into a fight with you?”

Hangman’s brows raise, a surprised expression taking over his features. “What makes you think I want to be fighting?”

“Because every little thing we do or talk about, turns into us fighting and Y/N stopping us!” He exclaims. He rubs his eyes, plopping himself onto a chair in the waiting room. “I’m just tired of fighting.”

“I am too,” Hangman admits. “Without Y/N to keep us grounded, I don’t know how to control myself. It’s just…god, you get under my skin.”

“Same here,” Rooster smiles.

“I thought we could’ve moved past our issues, especially after you and Mav came back when we thought you both lost…”

“I thought so too.”

They sit in silence, grateful that they can enjoy it before Hangman speaks again.

“I really hope she’s okay,” he whispers, head in his hands.

Rooster turns to face him. He’s shocked. He’d never seen Jake to worry for anyone but himself and maybe occasionally you. He claps his hand to Jake’s shoulder, causing Jake to turn to him.

“She’s gonna be fine, Jake.”

Hangman only nods. He knows if he speaks, the cracking of his voice will give away everything.

No, instead he places a hand on top of Bradley’s and nods—sighing when Bradley squeezes his shoulder in comfort.

~*~*~*~*~*~

A few hours later, you wake up in a dimly lit room. Beeping and the sounds of people whispering in the corner of…wherever you are…float to your ears. You sit up slightly to see Hangman and Rooster standing in the corner in a conversation.

They don’t look like they’re arguing…but you’ve been wrong before.

“Hey,” you groan. “No fighting.”

“Y/N,” they say, coming to your side, each taking one of your hands.

“How are you feeling?” Rooster asks.

“Like I feel off a ladder.” You squeeze their hands and smile. “I guess my plan worked.”

“What plan?” Hangman asks, eyes meeting Rooster’s.

“To get you two to stop fighting,” you tell them. You sigh when they open their mouths to argue with you. “Don’t even try to get out of this. You know you two have been fighting for the past few weeks. I was just tired of hearing it. I didn’t mean to actually get hurt.”

They’re silent for a bit before they smile at each other.

“What?” You ask. You turn to Rooster, eyes narrow. “Bradley?”

“W-what?” He stutters.

“What is it?”

“We talked to Phoenix,” Hangman tells you, making you swing your head to face him.

“Jacob Seresin, you tell me right now.”

“She told us about it your plan,” Bradley cuts in.

“And we’re very sorry we made you have to resort to…this.” Jake finishes.

You look between the two of them in disbelief. “Really?”

“Really,” Bradley nods. “And we’ll try not to fight so much.”

“If you two start it up again, I don’t k know what I’ll do,” you chuckle. “Maybe throw myself off a roof?”

“Please don’t,” Jake laughs.

Ugh… I need a Jake and Bradley

[comfortless]

would König ever agree to be a sugar baby? 🤔 most people write him as the rich one in the relationship so I'm curious if the dynamic can be reversed

you’re calling to my weakness of König being taken care of for once here…!! cue König being the absolute worst sugar baby that has ever existed (lovebombing!). implied age gap (König is maybe 24-26 here, reader is anything above), porn mention, masturbation, slightly suggestive but mostly fluff. minors do not interact.

Begrudgingly, a younger König probably would.

He isn’t sure how these relationships even work. There’s plenty of money in his bank accounts, he’s got a decent enough apartment, a car, (some) clothes that aren’t riddled with holes or tears... Hell, there isn’t even really anything that he wants. His curiosity only begins to spike the second his thumb stops its scrolling, lands on a picture of her, and his world comes to a grinding halt.

The woman in the photo is the most gorgeous, sweet creature he has ever lain eyes upon. Just the image of her smiling softly at the camera, her hands placed in her lap whilst she’s seated on a couch is enough to send his heart hammering. She doesn’t look the part of some vapid, cruel thing he had anticipated on a site like this. No, the woman only looks gentle, her eyes are even a little sad… She's all alone, her bed is cold, and König is already hard at the thought of how this could go if he had just a little luck in his corner.

He makes the decision to message her without thinking. It’s late, she probably wouldn’t even see it until morning, and he doubts a woman this cute would want to bother with him anyway.

A polite, articulate: hey do you wanna fuck

Followed by: you don’t even have to pay me XD

He settles for pulling up some porn video with the faces just out of frame, jacks off to the hypothetical of it being she and him one day and falls asleep with his phone on his chest and come stains in his boxers.

There’s nothing about him that’s deserving of this woman’s time nor her response, but he wakes to the chiming of his phone and a sweet message from her anyway. One in which she asks him if he would like to meet for drinks so that they can talk, she clarifies that she will pay, and even tells him that she thinks he’s handsome.

Handsome. Something only his oma had called him when she patted him on the cheek as a boy.

His response is insistent, demanding almost, when he suggests that she come to him, meet immediately that same day. Who cares if it’s only afternoon by the time she arrives, he could go for a beer and a sweet, tight pussy at any hour, doesn’t hold himself back from telling her this either while he grins at his phone like he’s possessed - all teeth and wild eyes.

There’s a part of him that believes this woman will be scared off, stand him up entirely and block his account, but to his surprise, she does actually show up. She’s there before even he arrives, seated in a booth at the back of the bar with his order and her own placed neatly on the table in front of her.

His chest feels too tight when he places himself across from her, all cockiness diminished in light of something he hasn’t felt since he was two feet shorter and more than a decade younger.

He’s fucking petrified.

His to-be-sugar-mommy eases him with her softspoken voice, going over the less than rigid terms of their agreement and praising his looks as well as his ability to handle his alcohol.

She isn’t asking for sex, just someone to care for. She tells him that he’s beautiful, while he feels like a smear on the pavement in comparison to her. And fuck. He isn’t handling his alcohol well at all, he’s just nervous and needs to keep his hands and his mouth busy, because all he wants to do is bend this adorable woman who compares his ugly face to that of an archangel’s over this table and fuck her like a stallion, spit such filth into her hair that no amount of repentance could ever make her feel clean again.

He can’t. He can’t when she suggests in that same cooing voice that she take him shopping for boots that are less scuffed, offers her hand to him as though it’s natural for a lady so ethereal to tether herself to a beast. Her hand is so dainty and cold, whereas he feels like a boiler on the cusp of bursting the second their fingers slot between one another.

His head is a mess of thoughts, memories of being dragged by the collar to attend services with his oma where he never prayed. Shit, maybe he should start, because surely he has someone or something to thank for this, for her.

Their first date becomes the strangest ordeal of his life as she seats him on a bench and helps him to try on boots as though he were only a boy who didn’t yet know how to tie his laces. She even kneels before him and ties them up herself before placing his foot back on the store’s floor; doesn’t even comment on the obvious hole in his sock or the awkward, longing way that he’s staring at her, only presses her chin to his knee and smiles up at him with so much affection he thinks he might actually pass out for a moment. She buys the ones he likes, three pairs of them, and doesn’t even bat an eye at the price.

That’s when he decides it’s all too much: he tells her that he can buy his own stuff, that he doesn’t need her to do it or tie his shoelaces or anything because he’s a man, after all. He should be showering her in flowers and soft dresses, paying for her nails and hair dye.

His lady only laughs and asks if he wants to come home with her, he doesn’t have to stay, just sit with her for a bit. So… he follows her home like a sulking shadow, hovering just behind her lost entirely in his head. He had barked at her like a rabid dog and she still brings him back to her place, strokes her thumb against the back of his hand, offers him little smiles of assurance when he goes completely silent.

He wants to hate it, wants to tell her something dirty and toss a stack of cash her way when she opens her door for him. Instead, he finds his head in her lap while she pets his face, running the tips of her fingers over every scar.

Her compliments are the most ridiculous, beautiful things that he’s ever heard, ranging from outright calling him her angel to telling him that he’s charming, that the scars are pretty… He loves every second spent with her like this, with each soft brush of her fingers as they pet the top of his head down to his neck, the way she hums some pleasing song to him when she massages at his shoulder.

He’s never been pampered or coddled like this before, and it feels good. The boner threatening to tear its way out of his pants isn’t something he’s proud of this time; he only wants this sweet little fairy to feel as comfortable as she’s making him.

Maybe he could do that if she let him pull up her skirt and make love to her: he could be gentle if he tried, play with her hair and her clit while he slowly spears her open until she’s pliant and panting, take it slow until she comes around his cock and her pussy calls him to utterly defile it as well as the rest of her. There wouldn’t be a part of her left untouched.

When she asks to be held instead, he swears he’s getting all of that and then some: she puts herself right in his lap, her chest to his and her legs parted just enough to straddle his hips. Her head tips forward against his shoulder as his fingers dance across her back, squeezing at her hips before smoothing back up her sides. She’s so soft… the most pleasing thing he’s ever touched, smoother than gunmetal and the flat of a blade. The way she smells is even sweeter, like spiced tea and blooming flowers.

She doesn’t even slap him when he bucks upward against her pussy, grinds the throbbing bulge in his pants against the place that she’s warmest. No, she only kisses his cheek and tells him what a wonderful day she’s having, what a gentleman he is even if he knows that part is certainly a lie.

Her breasts are soft in his hands when he finds the courage to squish them, against his cheek when she guides his head down to her. She pets his hair, tells him how she’s always wanted to hold a man like this… that she’s been waiting for someone exactly like him for longer than she even knows.

She even laughs when she asks, “You think that I’m pathetic, don’t you?”

All thoughts of just getting a good fuck out of this woman die someplace beneath his skull. Who would ever even think to call someone so lovely and kind pathetic? He couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t imagine ever doing anything more than protecting her fragile little heart and letting her stroke at him like an overgrown kitten, not anymore.

“Nein… no…”

He swears he could almost see tears in her eyes when she shoots him a glance then. Appreciative, contented tears that he prays she won’t shed. He’s a man, he’s not going to cry, but… fuck, he might if she did right now. Everything feels so doughy and warm, cotton candy and summer rain when his grip around her tightens to pull her in even closer.

She wipes away those unshed tears as she nuzzles against his cheek, slowly rubs her nose there and leaves a trail of kisses up to his temple. His mind is devoid of anything but outright infatuation, some impromptu dedication. He would tell her right now he loved her and know wholeheartedly that he meant it, but love isn’t in the agreement.

His lady only just wants to give herself away for nothing in return, not for a dick to make her cry or his own money layering her pockets; she just wants to pretend he’s her own personal angel, bury him in all the love and gifts she’s never been able to give to anyone else.

He watches her when she falls asleep curled up in his arms, takes in the way she smiles even in dreaming when her soft breaths break up the quiet. He presses his mouth to hers until her eyelids flutter and her breath catches in her little throat. She wakes to the kiss and only reciprocates it with the same softness she’s displayed with every prior action.

Her lips part to take him in, and she doesn’t even moan when he laps into her mouth with a grunt. There’s no lust in this for her: only the most senseless adoration, all love and tenderness, the things he’s yet to properly learn.

She tastes like vanilla and honey, her tongue yields beneath his own… and finally he pulls himself away, staring into her eyes like he might find a treasure there, as if he wasn’t already convinced that every part of her wasn’t something divine and holy.

“Do you have any others?,” he asks, devoid of any trepidation.

There’s not a care in the world of how she might view him. He’s convinced, certain that whatever he’s feeling has to be mutual. There are butterflies fluttering like the gentlest tornado in the pits of his stomach, and just by the wounded look she gives him then he just knows she must feel them too.

“Only you.”

“Gut… gut.”

There’s another kiss, one that is initiated by the both of them and steals all breath from his lungs. It’s not her harboring tears this time, but him who feels the dull sting, separates from her and turns his head away to rub at his face. He knows that he’s the pathetic one now, burdened down with the thought that he’s head over heels for a woman for just treating him as if he deserves anything at all.

Damn her for the way she readily reaches for him to pull him back in, to kiss at the outer corner of his eye and tell him in such a quiet way that she knows… In just a day she’s noticed him more than anyone, given more than anyone.

When he guides her back towards his mouth with a firm hand at the nape of her neck, could he really be faulted for whispering a confession? “Ich bin in dich verliebt,” spoken nearly inaudibly before he shuts her up with his lips over hers.

There’s no need for an answer, he knows the agreement had nothing to do with love. She wouldn’t accept his money in turn, but maybe a heart would suffice. He promises he’ll send her letters each time he’s deployed between mashing his mouth against her own, swears he will come running back to her when those greedy kisses slip down to her jaw. This sweet dove only laughs and squirms in his lap, tells him she would love to see him any time before he shushes her again.

Shouldn’t sweet things like this know not to feed a stray?

[bellaxgiornata]

If We're Being Honest [1/2]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 6.8k [Part 2]

Summary: Already having an awful week, you're a bit out of it while at Josie's with your friends, too busy sulking and drinking down your feelings to keep up with conversation. The sight of Matt wandering off with a beautiful woman yet again certainly doesn't help. But when you stay behind by yourself to finish your drink and wallow a bit more, you're surprised when Matt reappears and offers to let you stay the night at his place. Eventually, the night takes a turn you weren't anticipating.

Warnings/Tags: Angst with a happy ending, confession of feelings (with a twist), delayed comfort, anxious/depressed inebriated Reader

a/n: This is a two part little fic with angst in this first half and the comfort y'all want in the second half. I was craving angst and a twist on the typical confession of feelings fic, so here y'all go! Feedback is always appreciated!

Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @mattkinsella @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @sleepysleepymom @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia

Absently spinning your bottle of beer on the table with one hand, your eyes were fixed on the little droplets of condensation along the side of it. Your chin rested in the palm of your other hand as you watched one of the droplets begin to snake its way down the side of the brown glass, moving as if it was in slow motion. Outside of the bar, the downpour of summer rain battered against the window to your left.

Foggy’s hand loudly and abruptly slapping the table broke through your daze, causing you to jump in your seat. Eyes flying over towards him beside you, you watched as he let out a boisterous laugh, throwing his head back over his shoulders. Karen and Matt both quickly followed after, breaking into a fit of laughter along with him. Meanwhile you sat in your seat with absolutely no idea what had them laughing so hard because you hadn't been paying attention to the conversation for the past few minutes. 

You'd been having a rough week, both emotionally and mentally, and were currently trying your hardest not to sit and wallow in self-pity tonight–but you weren't doing a great job of that so far. Not only had you received a wedding invitation to your cousin's wedding the other day, but last night Marci had asked you to be a bridesmaid at her and Foggy’s upcoming wedding. Which of course you'd said yes to, ecstatic for your friends to finally be getting married and having an actual date set for their big day. But all of that had made you increasingly aware of your own single-ness this week in particular, especially after Karen had spent the first part of tonight gushing about the new guy she'd been seeing. 

You were happy for your friends, honestly. They were amazing people who deserved nothing but the best. You absolutely couldn't wait for all of the wedding festivities coming up that you'd be celebrating with everyone, either–for Marci and Fog's wedding and your cousin. You even thought the guy Karen was seeing sounded like an actual great catch for her for once. 

But you just couldn't help but feel like there was something wrong with you tonight. It had been far too long since you'd last had a date, and even longer than that since you'd been in a relationship. It didn't help that you certainly didn’t feel like you fit in with this group of friends you’d somehow found yourself a part of for the past almost year now. 

It had been by sheer accident that you’d met Foggy and Karen one morning all those months ago. And it was only because the three of you had had a coffee mishap at a coffee shop near the office where they worked. It was Foggy who’d chased you out of that shop for the drink you'd accidentally grabbed by mistake. Apparently it had been for his law firm partner Matt, who happened to be very particular about his coffee. They needed to be at the courthouse in time for a court case that morning so he didn't have time to get back in line to reorder the coffee. Having not had a chance to drink from the cup in the time you'd managed to grab it and make your way out the door, you'd readily swapped Matt's drink with your actual coffee that Foggy had grabbed. You’d apologized profusely for the mistake, but you'd formed the opinion that his firm partner sounded like an ass to be that particular about his coffee.

And for the next few mornings before work after that, you kept noticing Karen and Foggy at the same coffee shop. The pair of them were always excited to greet you, jokingly dubbing you the ‘coffee thief’ from that moment forward. It wasn’t long before the morning small talk in the line for coffee eventually led to them inviting you out to this little dive bar at Josie’s where you had finally met him .

Matthew Michael Murdock.

As the laughter subsided at the table, your eyes shifted over to Matt as if they were magnetically drawn to him. There was a broad smile stretched wide across his face, displaying his perfect, white teeth. The adorable, lone dimple in his right cheek was visible tonight just beneath the stubble that was a bit darker and thicker than he usually kept it. His dark hair was partially windswept but now finally dry from the rain that had dampened it earlier. Somehow that had just made his hair look messy in a way that seemed intentional. His tie was partially undone, loose around the collar of his light blue dress shirt; and as usual by the time he’d reached Josie’s, his sleeves had been rolled up exactly two times to reveal those muscular forearms of his covered in that smattering of little dark hairs you’d always longed to touch. 

He looked good– so good. But he always did. 

And of course, you were aware that you weren't the only one who ever noticed that.

The tall brunette you’d caught eyeing Matt all night finally appeared just over his shoulder and you released a sigh, already knowing what was coming next. Matt always attracted attention from beautiful women wherever he went because he was handsome and charismatic and sweet. He was impossible to miss in a room full of people. Which was honestly true of Karen, Marci, and Foggy, too. They were all attractive, successful, and exceptionally well-spoken individuals with big personalities that you couldn’t help but be drawn to.

But not you. You stood out like a painting on a hotel wall wherever you went–common, bland, and not remotely out of the ordinary. 

“Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt,” the brunette began as she stopped beside the table. Her eyes landed on Matt as she flashed a stunning smile his way. “I couldn't help but keep stealing glances at you all night and I figured I'd finally just say hello.”

Matt turned in his chair towards the woman, a charming smile already prepared on his face for her. “Well I'm flattered,” he told her. “I only wish I could say the same about stealing glances at you in return all night, but well–”

Matt gestured at his red glasses as the woman laughed, the sound itself somehow even perfect and attractive. That dark feeling of jealousy and despair began knotting together, swirling in your gut and mixing with the beers you'd already downed. Movement across the table from you caught your attention and you glanced over, catching the sight of Karen playfully but discreetly rolling her eyes at you and Foggy. Foggy chuckled lightly in response, nodding a little. Your attention returned back to the condensation on your beer bottle, not interested in having a front row seat to watching another one of Matt's hook-ups pan out.

“Would it be alright if I bought you a drink?” you overheard the brunette ask. “I mean, if I'm not interrupting?”

“I can assure you that you’re absolutely not interrupting anything,” Matt told her, already sliding his chair back and rising to his feet. “I think these three have endured my company long enough for this evening anyway, and it isn't often a woman offers to buy me a drink.”

Matt said a quick round of goodbyes to the three of you as that beautiful brunette’s perfect laugh trilled over the sound of the rock music playing on the bar’s speakers. You muttered something back half-heartedly, not even bothering to glance up from your beer. It wasn’t like he’d have noticed anyway.

“Well maybe it’s about that time,” Foggy said, pulling the sleeve of his dress shirt back to check the time on his watch. “Marci had appointments for cake tastings tomorrow morning and I do not want to miss out on that.” 

Across the table, Karen raised her bottle up to her lips, downing the rest of her beer before setting the empty bottle back onto the table. “I might see if Alex wants to stop over tonight, actually,” she told you both. “Since it’s Friday and I don’t need to show up at the office for once on a Saturday morning.”

As both of them began sliding their chairs back, gathering their things from the table, you remained seated. Fingers tapping against the beer bottle, you watched as a droplet of condensation raced another over the curve of the glass. Out of your peripheral, you caught the way both Foggy and Karen’s movements slowed, the two of them exchanging an uncertain look with each other. Then you heard the way Karen said your name softly in question. Eyes shifting upwards, you focused on her on the other side of the table.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked. “You’ve been oddly quiet all night.”

You forced a tired smile onto your face, nodding as you continued to rest your chin in your hand. “I’m fine,” you lied. “Just going to finish my drink before I leave, I think. Been a rough week at work and I just need to relax a little.”

“Do you…want us to stay?” Foggy asked.

You shook your head, releasing the bottle from your grip long enough to wave the pair of them off. “I’m fine drinking by myself, don’t worry about me,” you told him. “Go on. You both have someone to get back to tonight anyway, I’ll be alright.”

Karen hesitated beside the table, her concerned eyes landing back on Foggy still standing next to you. It looked like they were having a silent conversation with each other, but the thought of them staying here to keep you company when you knew there was somewhere they’d rather be–some one who’d they’d rather be with–only made that uncomfortable and sickening feeling of jealousy in your gut worse. 

Forcing that smile back on your face, you sat upright in your chair, ignoring the way the bar around you briefly spun in your vision from the beers you'd drank. Attempting to play the part of being just fine, you hoped that neither of them could see the truth behind the mask you’d thrown on. You just wanted to sulk back for a few minutes and finish your beer while you unhealthily forced yourself to acknowledge the fact that Matt looked far better next to a woman like the one he was currently laughing with at the bar than someone like you. Then you’d go home, throw on your stained and worn pajamas that weren’t remotely sexy, and probably watch a bit of mindless television before going to bed. Alone. Like every other night.

“Alright, well…hopefully you enjoy your drink,” Karen replied hesitantly, still looking uncertain.

“Make sure you call for a ride, too,” Foggy said, pointing a finger at the window beside you. “Still raining cats and dogs out there. You don’t want to step in a poodle–I mean, puddle–on your way home.”

You laughed lightly at his joke, though not as much as you would’ve done any other night. Exchanging goodbyes with both of them afterwards, you sighed in relief when they finally turned and headed towards the exit. Slumping back down in your seat, you focused on the window to your left as you drew your bottle of beer back up to your lips, watching as the rain continued to come down hard. 

Maybe Melissa at work was right. Maybe it was time you tried downloading one of those stupid dating apps, even though the thought of weeding out so many assholes who just wanted sex was the last thing you wanted to do. But maybe it would beat being alone all the time. It wasn’t like you were having any luck trying to meet someone the old fashioned way–in person.

Taking another drink from your beer, your attention returned to Matt's back as he sat at the bar beside the attractive woman. Drinking down a few deep gulps, you wondered what it would be like to ever have his undivided attention like that. To have him throw jokes your way because he was trying to win you over, not because you were just one of his friends. To have his hand linger on your thigh while he spoke to you because he wanted you and he wanted you to know that. Or to have him lean in towards your ear and whisper literally anything to you. 

Swallowing your beer down, you tore your eyes away from the sight of Matt at the bar. He'd never once flirted with you like that, the thought only increasing the lingering pain of jealousy now spreading to your chest, feeling like it was sucking your heart into a blackhole of nothingness. You just weren't good enough were you?

Ducking your head, you tried to hide the emotion on your face even if the only person left at this bar to notice and comment would be Josie herself. Still, you'd rather not be asked to explain why you looked quite so miserable. But it hurt to realize that every single one of your friends had someone else to go home to tonight, and here you were drinking alone. Going home to an empty apartment after.

Figuring it was time you just downed the rest of your drink and headed home, you grabbed your beer and quickly drained the rest of its contents. Maybe being drenched in the summer rain on your walk back home would make you feel something tonight besides the growing ache of loneliness. 

Setting the finished bottle of beer back onto the table, you clumsily pushed your chair back. Rising to your feet, you nearly lost your balance when you slid out of the chair. Your hands darted out, grabbing onto the table to steady yourself for a moment. Maybe you'd drank those beers back faster than you'd realized, clearly a little more buzzed than you'd expected.

“Not a big deal,” you mumbled to yourself, maneuvering around the chair, “I can still manage to walk back inebriated in the rain.”

Slipping your purse from off the back of the chair, you tossed the strap over your head and readjusted it on yourself. Then you pushed the chair forward so as not to trip over it before turning. 

Immediately you stopped when you saw you weren't alone, a surprised gasp coming from you. You would’ve stumbled backwards if it hadn't been for your hand that flew out, grabbing onto the back of the chair you'd just pushed in. Matt was standing at the edge of the table, his cane unfolded and in both of his hands.

“Hey,” he said, his attention clearly fixed on you. “Josie said you were still here by yourself.”

Brows knitting together in confusion at him suddenly appearing over here when he had just been at the bar, you glanced back over to where you'd last seen him. The brunette he'd been talking to had disappeared entirely, no longer sitting on the bar stool. 

“Yeah, I was just…finishing my drink,” you replied, still scanning the bar for the woman. “Weren't you with someone just a minute ago?”

“Well I was,” he answered, “until Josie pointed out how you were sitting here all by yourself after Fog and Karen had already gone home. Had me worried. Are you doing alright?”

Your gaze returned back to him, taking in the look of concern etched across his handsome face. The same look Karen and Foggy had shared tonight. 

“I'm fine,” you said, repeating the same lie. 

Matt's head tilted curiously to the side, a mannerism of his that you always found adorable. Except for right now, because it felt like he was analyzing what you'd said far more closely than your other friends had.

“If you're heading out, I can call you a car,” Matt suggested. “I can even wait with you if you'd like.”

You shook your head, beginning to make your way past him. “I'm fine, Matt,” you told him. “I was just going to walk back.”

“In the rain?” he asked. “I might be blind but I'm not deaf. It's pouring outside. And you've had quite a few drinks tonight, let me just call you a car. You shouldn’t be walking home in that.”

“Maybe I want to take a walk in the rain,” you countered, coming to a stop beside him. “Something wrong with that? It's just rain.”

His brows drew up onto his forehead behind his glasses as he shifted on his feet. “You really want to walk almost two blocks in the pouring rain right now? Stumbling down the sidewalk alone?” he asked. “You sure about that?”

A frown settled onto your face. When he put it like that, no, you sort of didn't. But you also didn't feel like waiting to grab a cab, either. Especially if it meant waiting with Matt and being the cause of further ruining his evening.

“Alright, how about this,” he continued when you hadn’t answered. “You come back and stay at my place tonight. I think we can both manage a walk around the corner in the rain. I'll let you borrow something dry to sleep in and you can take the bed. That way I won't have to worry if you made it home alright and you can still have your walk in the rain.”

As his offer made its way past the alcoholic fog in your brain, your body stiffened. Had Matt really just invited you to stay the night at his place? Because he was worried about you getting home? And he'd walked away from what was clearly going to be an obvious hook-up? For you ?

You could feel your heart beating a little faster in your chest as all these things gradually began to register in your mind. Why would he do that? He’d never invited you to stay at his place before.

“I–” you began.

You could barely find the words to reply, your brain too muddled by the alcohol to think clearly. Was this just an invitation as a friend, or was it something more? 

“Is that a yes?” he questioned. “Because it sounds like the rain has eased up a bit, now would be the perfect time to head out before it downpours again.”

Slowly you nodded, the ‘yes’ coming out of you before you even realized you’d agreed. Because could you really pass up the chance to stay over at Matt’s place? You knew you’d always be left wondering what might’ve happened if you didn’t go. 

His hand extended out towards you, the movement drawing your gaze downwards. It hovered there in the space between both of your bodies, your eyes lingering on it. 

“Should we go then?” he asked.

Swallowing hard, you hesitantly reached your hand out, slipping it with uncertainty into his. But when his fingers curled around your hand in return, you realized that’s what he’d been silently asking. For you to hold his hand as you walked back with him in the rain.

“Probably will make it easier to keep either of us from tripping,” he told you, turning the pair of you around in the bar until you were both facing the exit. “Though I suppose now if one of us falls down, we both do.”

His head turned towards you, a cheeky grin on his mouth directed solely at you. You could feel the way your heart skipped in your chest at the sight, the cold, miserable feeling that you’d been experiencing all night easing its way out of you just a little. 

“So, do you care to lead the way or…?”

Snapping out of your daze staring at him–something you were grateful he couldn’t see–you quickly nodded. “Right, sorry,” you muttered, beginning to lead the pair of you towards the door.

The moment you’d led the pair of you out of Josie’s and out from beneath the little overhang at the entrance, the warm rain had already begun to soak your hair and your clothes. It had felt good though, especially with Matt’s warm, calloused hand wrapped around yours. As you sidestepped a puddle, you found yourself surprised at the unexpected turn that your evening had taken. Though there was still something on your mind and your inebriated brain just couldn’t resist finding out the answer as the pair of you neared the corner of the block.

“So…how much did I ruin your night tonight?” you asked Matt cautiously.

He glanced over his shoulder towards you, his cane tapping along the sidewalk and occasionally splashing up water each time it hit a puddle. Your bottom lip rolled back between your teeth as you began nervously gnawing on it, afraid of his answer.

“You didn’t ruin my night,” he replied easily. “Though I’ve been a bit worried about you. You’ve been quieter more than usual tonight. Is something on your mind?”

Yeah, you , you thought.

But of course, you couldn’t say that aloud.

You shrugged, your gaze dropping to the pavement ahead of you. “Just feeling a little down on myself, I guess,” you muttered. 

Hearing the words aloud had you cringing as you walked. You hadn't exactly meant to be honest and tell him that. 

“Feeling down on yourself about what, exactly?” he asked.

The pair of you rounded the corner, your blouse already drenched and sticking to your skin. Glancing up at Matt from beneath your lashes beside you, you couldn't help but notice the way his dress shirt was soaked and clinging to his muscular torso. It was physically painful how attractive he was. 

“It's stupid,” you mumbled, focusing back down on the pavement. 

Matt's hand squeezed yours, your heart practically slamming into your ribcage in shock at the gesture. You hoped he didn't notice the way your palm was gradually beginning to dampen with nervous sweat.

“Tell me what's on your mind,” he urged. “You know I won't judge you.”

The pair of you were quickly approaching Matt's apartment building as his words hung in the air between you. It was true though, in all your time knowing Matt he'd never once been mean to you. Never once had he made you feel bad about yourself. If anything he'd always been sweet and supportive, which only made you like him that much more. You sighed, and then suddenly you felt your drunk thoughts spilling out of your mouth faster than you could stop them. 

“I feel like I'm not good enough,” you confessed, the words spewing from you. “I haven't had a date in a long time. And then there's Marci and Fog who're getting married soon–and that's great. They're perfect for each other. And Karen, well, she might usually have poor luck with men, but she gets dates left and right. And she's gorgeous and smart so I get it. And then you–” you continued, wincing at the memory of him next to that brunette at Josie’s, his hand on her thigh, “–you could have a new fling for every night of the week in this damn city. But me?” You roughly shook your head, a tear managing to slip out of your eye and camouflaging itself with the drops of rain on your cheeks. “No one looks twice at me. I'm not special and I'm certainly not Karen or Marci. I don't even remember the last time a guy showed up to my place with flowers. It's been a long time since someone actually asked me on a date. And–”

You stopped short, your brain finally catching up and realizing all the things you'd just said aloud. You sucked in a breath as the wave of embarrassment hit you, your mouth promptly closing. How could you have possibly just admitted all that to Matt of all people?

“You know that's not true, right?” Matt said gently, his hand once again squeezing yours. “I'm sure plenty of guys have given you second or third looks. You're an incredibly smart and talented woman and you're being far too hard on yourself.”

You scoffed loudly, rolling your eyes as heat burned at your cheeks. But at the sound of your disbelief, Matt's hand gave a sharp pull on yours, drawing you both to a stop in front of his building. 

“Hey,” he said, tugging your hand and pulling you towards himself. “You should stop thinking about yourself like that. Stop being so critical of yourself. You're so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

Hearing his kind words, you couldn't bear to look him in the face. Feeling awkward, your gaze fixed down on your wet dress flats. “Easy for you to say,” you muttered, the alcohol once more loosening your tongue, “because you're successful and don't remotely have an issue attracting the opposite sex. It's not like that for the rest of us.”

Matt said your name firmly, the tone of his voice practically commanding you to focus back on him. His expression was serious despite the red glasses he wore obscuring his eyes, making it impossible to see the entirety of his face. His hair was soaked and clinging to his head from the rain, a few droplets streaming down his handsome face as he fixed his attention solely on you. Your hands instantly began to grow clammier under his undivided attention and you hoped he thought it was just from the rain.

“You're an amazing person and some lucky guy is going to come and sweep you off your feet,” he told you. “You'll find him, I can assure you of that.”

As you gazed back at him on the sidewalk, the rain still falling over the pair of you, your buzzed brain tried to understand if there was something else hidden in Matt's words, some other thing that he was trying to tell you. Because just like he'd never invited you to stay at his place, he'd never said anything like that to you before. He'd certainly never looked at you like he currently was before, either. 

“Please try to be kinder to yourself,” Matt nearly begged. “Okay?”

Unsure what to make of his behavior tonight, you nodded slightly. “Okay,” you agreed quietly.

He smiled back at you, the sight nearly knocking you off your feet. It was quickly becoming far too difficult to just stand here trying to look at him as only a friend. And it was getting harder and harder to keep your mouth from blurting out how you felt with that stunning smile on his perfect mouth. Thankfully he continued on towards the entrance of his building, breaking you from your thoughts and leading you into the small lobby and over towards the elevators.

The entire way up to Matt's apartment had been silent after that. You were too busy trying to analyze everything he had been doing and saying tonight to even remotely think of conversation. Because it was supposed to have been that pretty woman at the bar coming up to his apartment tonight, not you. Yet here you were, still holding Matt's hand as he led you down the hallway to his place.

And while this certainly wasn't the first time you'd been here before, it was the first time you'd been here alone at night with him. The thought of staying here overnight in his bed still had your insides buzzing along with the beer you'd downed this evening. 

Was there something more you were missing? Every step closer to his apartment had you feeling like there was.

Matt eventually pulled you to a stop in front of his door, fishing his keys from out of his dress pant pockets. You watched in silence as he unlocked the door, your nerves only growing as you stood there. 

“You can come on in,” Matt told you, swinging his door open and gesturing for you to step inside. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you hesitantly stepped forward and made your way past Matt into the apartment. Your shoulder gently and accidentally brushed against his damp chest as you tried to squeeze past him. Immediately you wrapped your arms over your chest, feeling your heart beat a little harder from the brief touch. His chest was so incredibly solid, you'd never understood how he was so in shape.

Glancing down as you paused in his entryway, you noticed the damp patch you were making on his floor as he shut and locked the door behind you. 

“I'm sorry, I'm dripping water everywhere,” you told Matt. “Do you have a towel or something?”

“How about I grab some dry clothes for you to change into,” he replied, slipping out of his dress shoes. “Then we can worry about the mess we're making.”

As he made his way down the short entryway, you stood awkwardly in place, arms still wrapped around yourself. When Matt reached the end of the little hall, he paused, glancing back at you with a charming smile on his face.

“It's just water, it's fine,” he assured you. “You can come in.”

Slowly you began to make your way into his apartment, cautiously making your way over to the side of his leather couch. Matt once again assured you he would grab some dry clothes for you to change into before disappearing into his bedroom, leaving you alone.

The lights were off in his apartment, but truthfully you didn't even need them. Looking out the window to your right, your eyes landed on the eyesore of a billboard just across the street. It had been awhile since you'd been here at night with your friends and you'd forgotten just how bright it was. Currently it was advertising a nearby hospital, the blue light shining through Matt's windows and coating the room in a navy glow. In a way it was beautiful, but you could absolutely understand why he’d gotten such a great deal on the place. 

“Hopefully these will work,” Matt said.

Tearing your eyes away from the window, your attention returned to Matt as he was leaving his bedroom. But your breath immediately caught in your throat at the unexpected sight of him sauntering his way towards you with some neatly folded clothes in his hands. It felt like you suddenly couldn't breathe as you watched each of his casual steps towards you.

He'd taken his damp shirt off and removed his glasses when he'd gone into his bedroom to grab you some clothes. The sight of which had left you damn near speechless because you'd never seen him shirtless before. It was impossible not to just blankly stare at the sight, taking in all of the defined muscle along his chest along with the girth of his muscular arms. You curiously noted the scars on his chest, but you were too busy trying to control your now violently beating heart at the view before you to think much more of them.

Matthew Murdock looked far too good to actually exist in real life. 

But why hadn't he thrown a shirt on before he'd come out to hand you the clothes? It would’ve taken him barely any time to do so. Had it been intentional that he'd done that? Was it…possible that Matt might’ve been trying to make some sort of move on you tonight? Was that why he’d invited you back here this evening instead of the other woman at the bar?

He stopped just before you, a smile on his face as his eyes fixed somewhere along your chest. You always loved when he took his glasses off around you, but unfortunately it wasn't often. He always seemed far more vulnerable, which was probably why it was a rare sight. But he’d removed them now, and as you watched him, you noticed the faintest twitch to the corner of his eyes. You wondered what that was about as he extended the clothes in his hands out towards you. 

“Here,” he said softly. “Hopefully they're comfortable, but if not, I can always get you a towel to dry off. Though really you can sleep however you're comfortable.” His smile turned cheeky–a smile he didn’t often flash your way–as the corners of his eyes creased. “Not like I can see anything anyway.”

Your fingers tightened around your damp blouse at the implication of his words. Had he just said he didn't care if you slept in nothing? In his bed?

Swallowing hard, your eyes dropped down and focused on the shirt and sweatpants that were neatly folded in his outstretched hands. His clothes. He was offering you his clothes to sleep in. Nervously you unwrapped your arms from over your chest as you took a step towards him, your trembling hands carefully reaching out and accepting the clothing from him.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

Glancing up, you realized how close the pair of you were now standing to each other. Barely any distance was left between you two. Had he even managed to move closer or were you imagining that?

“Of course,” he whispered back.

He was still smiling down at you as you drew the clothes in towards your chest. His head had tilted ever so faintly to the side as you observed him, the heat of his body warming you in your damp clothes. Why hadn’t he moved? Why was he still standing so close? 

A thought struck you as you stood there, your attention turning towards his lips. Was he…wanting to kiss you? No, that couldn’t be it.

…could it?

He had invited you back to his place after all. He’d walked you home with him in the rain hand in hand–which had been his idea. That had been far more intimate than anything the pair of you had ever done before. And now he was letting you stay the night in his bed, offering you his own clothes to change into. Saying such nice things about you. And he was just standing there, gazing down at you in nothing but a pair of damp dress pants because he’d removed his shirt without bothering to put on another one. 

This had to all be intentional, right? He could’ve easily gone home with the brunette from the bar, but he chose you, didn’t he? Maybe what he’d been saying earlier outside the building in the rain had meant something more. Could he have been talking about himself being the guy to come along and sweep you off your feet? Had that been what he’d meant all along?

Hope instantly sparked in your chest at the thought. Everything seemed to make sense, everything seemed to point at the fact that Matt might possibly view you as more than just a friend. So was this your moment then? Your chance to tell Matt how you felt and to hear he felt the same in return? Because he was still just standing there, so close you could kiss him. Why else hadn’t he moved?

Without even thinking–most likely due to the alcohol in your system–you leaned forward and boldly closed the rest of the distance between your mouths. It was a hesitant kiss, your lips ever so gently pressing against Matt’s in an uncertain connection. You couldn’t believe how incredibly soft his were, how warm they felt against your own. Your stomach began somersaulting inside of you because you were kissing Matt. It was everything you’d wanted for almost a year now.

Until he gently but abruptly pulled away from you.

Your eyes fluttered open as you drew back from him, taking in the look of utter confusion on Matt’s face. Panic immediately set in, your hands tightening around the bundle of clothing in your hands. 

“What–what are you doing?” he asked.

“I–I thought–” you stammered, struggling to form a sentence. “Was that–is this not…?”

Matt’s head only tilted further to the side, his dark brows furrowing further together on his forehead until there was a deep crease between them. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or your nerves at this point, but you felt on the verge of vomiting now.

What the hell had you just done?

“Did you think I was inviting you here to sleep with you?” he asked in disbelief. He said your name, the sound like a stab to your chest as he shook his head. “I had no intention of that. You’re drunk and you’re my friend. I wanted to make sure you got to somewhere safe tonight. I wasn’t trying to take advantage of you. That’s not–that’s not what I was doing.”

“Oh my God,” you breathed out, taking a step back from him. “Oh my God, I thought that–that you…”

Your words trailed off, eyes growing wide as the urge to bolt quickly took over you. You could feel the sting of tears burning in your eyes already, absolutely mortified at what you’d done and how you’d wildly misread the entire situation. How could you have been so incredibly stupid?

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, vision blurring from the tears welling up in your eyes. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have–that wasn’t okay. I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve had too much to drink and–and I wasn’t thinking,” you blabbered on. “I absolutely misread things, I just thought that–that maybe you liked me, too and–”

Matt said your name softly, as if he was trying to calm a panicked animal. “You’re my friend,” he told you. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression at all this evening but–”

You practically threw the bundle of clothes back at Matt’s bare chest. His hands flew up, somehow catching them, but the gesture had cut him clean off. That spark of hope that had formed in your chest moments ago quickly sizzled out. A roiling, churning instead grew in your stomach, making you certain that you’d throw up soon if you didn’t get the hell out of here. 

“I need to go,” you blurted.

Turning abruptly, you hurried through Matt’s living room and down the entryway hall. Behind you, you heard him calling your name, but you didn’t dare stop. You couldn’t face him, not after what you’d just idiotically done. Especially not now as the tears were finally falling down your cheeks in hot spurts, embarrassment and rejection both burning inside of you. You just needed to get out of here, needed to get away from this entire horrible situation. You couldn’t believe you’d just gone and kissed him like that.

Your frantic hands fumbled with the lock on his door, but you managed to undo it and wrench it open in a rush. Continuing to ignore him calling after you, you pulled the door shut after yourself before you darted across the hall and straight to the door leading to the stairwell. Throwing it open, you began racing down the stairs as fast as you could, a hand covering your mouth as you tried to muffle your pathetic sobs. Your heart slammed away against your ribcage as the tears began to fall faster down your cheeks. As you descended the stairs, your vision blurred from tears and the alcohol you'd drank, causing you to stumble a few times on your way all the way down to the main floor. 

Ignoring the looks from the few people you sprinted past in the lobby, you headed straight towards the building’s exit. Forcefully pushing the doors open, you made your way back out onto the sidewalk and into the rain. A choked sob slipped past your fingers as you continued to hurry down the pavement and back towards your own apartment, your flats quickly becoming soaked as you stepped through a few puddles, splashing water up onto your dress pants. 

You’d just gone and kissed Matt like an absolute idiot. Of course he’d told you that he only saw you as a friend. Why would Matt ever be interested in someone like you? Someone awkward and average, nothing special. 

You’d absolutely ruined that friendship now, too. There was no way in hell you could ever face him again. You weren’t sure how you were going to survive Marci’s wedding months from now. Maybe if you were lucky you could try to ignore him all day. He’d probably be more than happy to do the same after tonight.

“ Why did I kiss him?” you lamented to yourself. “How stupid !”

Your tears continued to fall, mixing with the heavy rain drops pelting your cheeks as you rushed back to your place. All you wanted to do was get up to your apartment and crawl beneath the blankets in your bed and hide. You just wanted to forget this entire nightmare of an evening. There was no way to salvage what you’d done, to take it back. 

You should have never gone out tonight.

[icallhimjoey]

hello love, i have a request for a smutty and fluffy joe fic ❤️ (it's a bit of a personal one) the reader experiences some pain and discomfort during PIV and their past partner(s) never took the time to make sure they are fully comfortable and heard... but joe does. 🥺 xx.

thanks for your request! i didnt deliver much on the smut (my apologies) but i tried to do it justice for ya ❤️ Wordcount: 2K

---

And I'll Listen

“What’s wrong?” Joe asked, after climbing up onto your bed and sitting down right in front of you, mirroring you exactly. Legs criss crossed in front, elbows pressed into the inside of your knees. 

“What? Nothing’s wrong.” You smiled, but your words came out without any confidence. It sounded like a fat lie, even to your own ears, so you knew Joe wouldn’t be convinced. 

“Okay,” Joe said, narrowing his eyes a little, but letting his hands find yours in between your laps and leaning in for a kiss anyway. 

You’d had a whole day that built up to this.

Every little thing leading up to this moment.

Of having Joe in bed with you, the unsaid expectation of getting to connect past kisses and wandering hands.

Joe had been extra sweet, had really done his best to make you giggle and blush a little more than he had done on any previous dates. Not because he was hoping you’d repay his kindness with anything. That wasn’t the type of person he was. But because he wanted you to feel comfortable around him. He wanted you to enjoy this just as much as he was probably going to.

Which, you did. You did feel comfortable around him.

You liked Joe a lot.

You wanted him in bed with you. You wanted Joe to kiss you, and so when he leant in for one, it was easy to accept his lips as they brushed against yours.

It was just that... you were nervous.

Sort of scared.

There was a little seed of fear left over from unpleasant experiences with other men, and you hadn’t realised how all throughout the day you’d been silently watering it.

It was a whole big leafy plant now, and it made you turn Joe’s kiss into a quick peck. 

You wondered if Joe would accept it if you just wanted to cuddle all night. 

Joe smiled at you, and he noticed the blush high up on your cheeks. You looked real cute like this, in the low light of your bedroom that turned everything into soft oranges, and he let go of one of your hands to curl it around your neck. 

He pulled you in for another kiss, and you liked the strong fingers that held your head up, but you did the same thing again. Broke the kiss just as quick as it started and moved back a little, biting into your bottom lip and bringing a hand up to softly rub at the side of your nose. 

Your nose wasn’t itchy, but by covering your mouth you ensured Joe couldn’t quickly try for another kiss. 

This felt awkward. Which was weird, Joe thought.

You’d kissed lots already.

You’d surprised him with kisses a lot, actually. Like in public, right outside a pub, when he hadn’t expected it at all and he had nearly dropped his beer. Or earlier when he’d shown you the eyelash on the tip of his finger that he’d carefully taken from just underneath your eye and made you make a wish before you both blew it off.

It was strange that you were cutting off kisses and keeping him at a distance.

Joe moved back a little more, and you saw how he observed you for a moment before his brows pulled down into a confused frown.

“You seem nervous…” he said, smiling still.  

“Yea, it’s the nerves.” you joked dryly, using the moment to try and get rid of the uneasy feeling that you couldn’t seem to shake. You hoped a little humour would help, and it did help, because Joe burst into loud laughter.

But then the moment Joe’s laughter subsided and he went in to kiss you again, murmuring “I’m trying to set the mood, stop being so funny,” against your lips, the fear and anticipation returned full force. 

God, why were you panicking?

This was Joe.

He’d done nothing to make you believe he was like… like the others. Like any of them, actually.

Your clear mind was convinced you could just tell Joe about the issue and that he would react the way you’d want him to. The problem, however, was that your mind didn’t feel all so clear right now, unfortunately. And Joe could feel it in the way you froze on him a little. You were letting him kiss you, but you weren’t really kissing back all that much.

“What’s got you so nervous, hey?” 

Joe knew he wouldn’t be in bed with you if you didn’t want him there. There was no question about where the night was headed; you had both been very clear about it, so there was no doubt in Joe’s mind at all.

He guessed it was normal to feel a little nervous, but something about you felt a little off. Something different in your eyes. 

“I just said,” and you just couldn’t fucking help to use the same joke to deflect, “It’s the nerves.” 

This time you didn’t get a laugh, but just a small smile and eyes that slid down your body before they found yours again to lock onto.

“I know that...” Joe started, face serious enough for you to feel uneasy with his eye-contact. You looked away, and it made Joe pause.

You weren’t really letting him in.

“I know that being vulnerable can be scary, but…” Joe looked at your hands and cupped one into his palm so he could let his other hand tickle the inside of yours. He glanced up to see that you were staring at it too.

“I think that you think it takes a lot of effort to be a little more exposed... that it’s hard work to open those doors.” 

Oh, shit. 

You did think that.

You didn’t like how Joe seemingly saw right through you. 

“But if you ask me, you’ve got it wrong. It’s not hard work. But you know what is? Keeping the doors closed when someone else is trying to take a peek inside.” Joe stressed his words and made it obvious he was talking about himself. “We’re just gonna be pulling on either side… and, you’re strong. You’ll probably manage to keep it shut if you were really determined. And then what might happen is that I’ll grow tired eventually and stop trying...” 

You inhaled a shuddery breath. That wasn’t what you wanted. It was frustrating that Joe even framed it like he had to work hard for it, but you didn’t want Joe to stop trying.

“And I don’t even want to get inside. I just want to... I don’t know, I guess I just want to open the door and have a look. Wanna see you.” 

Somehow the concept of being seen felt just as bad as letting someone in.

“Joe…” you whispered, and watched as Joe grabbed hold of both of your hands, interlacing your fingers together in a bid to feel closer. Your touching knees weren’t really covering Joe’s want for closeness.

“Am I making sense? Do I–” he sounded impossibly sweet and gentle, it was almost too soft for you to bear.

“Yea, no, you are! You are, but…”  

“But what?” 

But your fingers had held onto those doorhandles for so long they’d sort of cramped into their set position and prying them loose was actually the painful bit. That first step of opening up was what had you worried, because what if Joe got a little glimpse inside and didn’t care for what he’d see. 

Because that had happened before. 

Or at least... that’s how you had always interpreted it.

Because you’d felt like you had let people look inside, but then they hadn’t really seen you. They’d just barged in and didn’t listen when you’d said, stop, that’s enough. 

Rational thought told you not to accuse Joe of things he hadn’t done, but you couldn’t help your body anticipating the worst all the same.

“Hey,” Joe whispered and pulled you from your thoughts, big eyes filled with worry that didn’t feel pitying to you. More warm and kind, like he was trying to show you that he would see. That he would listen.

“It’s just me.” 

“Well… you see, it’s not. It’s not just you. It’s you and,” you glanced down between the two of you and, for a split second, thought of mentioning Joe’s dick.

Classic joke.

It’s you and your huge shlong that counts as its own individual.

But Joe hadn’t just tried to convince you to be honest with him for you to throw a dick joke into his face, and so instead you let your eyes find Joe’s again and you finished, “me.” 

You said it like it should really worry Joe that it was you he was with.

Like he had made a great mistake by being here.

Like there was something terribly wrong with you.

Which, you kind of thought there was. A little.

But Joe didn’t think so, and his facial expression pulled into something past confusion. He seemed almost offended at the light that you’d just placed yourself into, so you scrambled to explain what you meant.

“It’s you and me, and I don’t… you know, there is... so, before it’s not always been- s-sometimes it’s not been– not that I don’t trust you, like, I know you wouldn’t want to hurt me, but, it’s not like, like, it’d b-be your fault, it’s just that it’s scary ‘cause then, what if it does, a-and–”

“Hey.” Joe stopped you. He’d heard enough.

You were getting ridiculously close to crying, Joe might as well just start getting dressed again, you thought. This was going nowhere, fucking pathetic. Joe hadn’t flirted with you all day for him to spend his evening comforting his crying date.

“Take a deep breath.” he instructed. Wasn’t a question.

You shuddered through an exhale first before you took a quick big gulp of air. 

“Slower. Do one more, slow. Close your eyes.” 

Joe sounded more stern than he had done before, and you reluctantly followed his instructions. Sort of. Joe had to give you a raise of his eyebrows and a little nod before you closed your eyes. When you exhaled your slow breath, you noticed how dropping your shoulders stopped your lips from wobbling. 

“Another one.” he said, sounding a little bit more gentle this time.

You felt Joe press a thumb in between your eyes, pulling upwards, easing your frown. He did that a couple of times until he couldn’t see it anymore. 

“Okay. Good. That’s better.” 

Then he used both his hands to trace lines from your forehead down either side of your face until his finger tips met over your lips.

You visibly relaxed a little more, eyes still closed as you let your head hang to the side a little.

After doing that for a while, after your lips had slightly parted on their own, Joe softly asked, “Does this feel nice?” 

“Mhm,” you tried nodding but weren’t sure you even moved all that much. 

“Good. S’all I want.” 

You snapped your eyes open, immediately tense again and ready to argue, because intentions didn’t matter. No one had even intended to hurt you before, but it had still happened. Hence this whole fear-plant that lived inside you now.

“But, what if–”

“You tell me.” Joe quickly interrupted you. 

“Okay, but–” 

“And then I’ll listen.” 

Oh.

Hit the nail right on its head.

You inhaled a sharp breath and pulled your bottom lip into your mouth.

“You tell me, and I’ll listen, okay?” Joe sounded dead serious.

You thought for a moment, and then nodded.

“Yea, okay.” 

“Yea?”

“Yea.” 

“Promise me one thing.” Joe pulled both your hands into his chest, curling them under his chin as he forced eye-contact with you.

“You have to tell me. Talk to me. I don’t want you– you’re not allowed to… I don’t know. To push through. I don’t want you to pretend everything is okay when it’s not, all right? Any discomfort and you just say stop, okay?” 

You felt your eyes well up and before Joe could witness tears spilling over, you were quick to lean in and kiss him, pulling your hands from his grasp and using both to pull him closer by the back of his neck.

“Mm– promise me, you gotta promise–” Joe was hardly stopping you from kissing him, but he needed you to say it.

“I promise, I promise,” you urgently said, not even sure if you even knew how to tell Joe to stop, but your gut-feeling overwhelmingly wanted you to kiss him, so you did.

And feverishly so.

You felt Joe smile against your mouth as he let both arms curl around your middle, pulling you into his lap, and it felt a little silly how suddenly, Joe’s earlier words settled within you.

“It’s just me.” 

He was right.

This was just Joe.

It was like you had only just understood what he had even meant when he’d said that.

“It’s just you.” you repeated in a whisper, reassuring yourself as Joe kissed down your neck.

But Joe actually thought that what you’d said made more sense. That you were actually right, and he needed you to know he understood.

“It’s me and you, all right?” Joe corrected, breaking from you just long enough for you to pull your top off, and then going back in for your mouth.

“It’s me and you.”

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @demonsanddemogorgons

@djoseph-quinn, @dolcevitalifestyle, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer

@everythinghasafacee, @ferfan14, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @gri959

@hanahkatexo, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven

@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr

@munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq, @niallersfreckles, @notverywise

@pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @prettiestboyreid, @readergf, @royale1803

@skulliecadaver-blog, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson

@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow

@witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

[octuscle]

A unique holiday experience

Stephen was lying by the pool… The wind rustled through the oleander bushes. From the restaurant, he could hear muffled conversations. He took a sip of his vermouth tonic. The ice cubes clinked in the glass. It really was a perfect idyll. From the pool, you had a perfect view of the plains of Mallorca, looking out over the sea of houses of Palma and, in the distance, the glistening Mediterranean. Stephen was somewhat exhausted from a road bike tour through the Tramuntana Mountains. But after a few days of just relaxing by the pool, he really needed a bit of a change. The bike tour had been a good idea from the concierge… But now Stephen needed something else. He surfed the internet. The offers from getyourguide were quite nice, but he didn't need another visit to the cathedral of Palma, another visit to an olive oil factory, another hike on the dry stone wall trail. He knew all that well enough. But then he stumbled across an ad that sounded original: “Bored of the luxurious Mallorcan quality tourism? Fancy a break from the real world? Party and have fun with normal people? We offer you a vacation like you've probably never experienced before!” The logo showed two young guys who reminded Stephen unpleasantly of the booze tourists who had made him shudder more than once at Palma Airport.

Still, it sounded kind of funny… Stephen clicked on “Continue”… Then he took another sip from the beer can. The stuff got damn hot in the sun. Then he fell asleep.

“Mate, you fell asleep in the sun again. Drinking ain't good for you. Want another beer?” Stephen woke with a start. He had to belch in shock. The guy in front of him laughed and held out an ice-cold beer can. Where the hell was he? Stephen was lying in the blazing sun by a small, shabby-looking pool. The cheap plastic lounger groaned as he sat up. Shit, that hurt! He was bright red. “That looks nasty, mate! You gotta cool it down!” The boy in front of him shook the beer can and opened it. A beer fountain hit Stephen's burnt chest. And even though he was sure he wanted to say something else, he said, “You absolute arsehole. You can't be wasting beer like that. Or are you gonna lick it off my six-pack again, you dirty pig?” What the fuck was going on? The chav in front of him laughed and actually licked the beer foam off Stephen's body. Or what was probably Stephen's body. What Stephen could see was an athletic, fiery red body with a few cheap-looking tattoos. And what he could also see was the tent that he was building in his shorts. “Bloody hell, can't you wait till we're back in our room? The pricks will end up banning us if they catch us!” This was a nightmare? Stephen was stuck in a strange body and was like a remote-controlled robot. He had no control over his actions or his language. He was stuck in this body and watched everything like a movie. Except that the pain of the sunburn was just as real as the lust that was coursing through his body. “Bruv, let's get up to our room, innit? If they're changing the sheets tomorrow, we might as well have a proper go at it, yeah?” Stephen didn't need to be told twice. He didn't know the guy's name, he didn't understand why he was talking about their room, but he wanted to fuck the guy. Now! And hard! He opened the door with his door card. He threw the guy onto the bed. He pulled down the guy's Adidas shorts. He pulled down his own shorts. He didn't give a shit about the stark contrast between his red-burned and chalk-white skin. His boner jumped out of his pants like a jumping jack. The guy squealed with anticipation. And Stephen fucked him like only slightly drunk chavs can manage shortly after the end of puberty. And Callum (Stephen suddenly remembered the name) was right: tonight they would have to sleep in cum-encrusted sheets. But tomorrow there might be fresh ones. If the maid didn't refuse to clean the room again because it was too messy.

After the fuck, Stevo and Callum lay on the beach for a while. Stevo had organized a new round of beer and was checking with the other guys from her soccer club what was going on tonight. Dinner at their cheap all-inclusive hotel in Magaluf was set, but after that it was unclear whether they wanted to go to the sports bar for a few rounds of darts or go straight to the club to pick up chicks. Callum didn't participate. He was drunk again and sleeping off his drunk.

The four days of drinking and fucking in Magaluf were always the highlight of the year. The football club organized this trip every year and Stevo had been going since he was 16. Shit, it was a wild time, but what happened in Magaluf stayed in Magaluf. His girlfriend in Birmingham didn't believe a word of it anyway, no matter what he told her about the trip. Hehehe, he could only hope that she had no idea what had been going on between him and Callum. Hey, it had always been without eye contact, it wasn't homo.

His buddies and he had savored the last day at the pool as best they could. They'd had to vacate their rooms in the morning, but they'd been allowed to use the all-inclusive until the bus picked them up for the airport. And the bar had been serving alcohol for an hour. Callum had already pissed his pants again, Stevo had already been to the loo once to throw up, but had unfortunately just missed the toilet bowl. The bus wasn't due for another hour. He had bought himself another beer and fell asleep on the sun lounger.

The other guests always raised their eyebrows a little at the sight of Stephen. The young man may have been able to afford the expensive hotel in Bunyola, but with his tattoos he somehow didn't fit in here. And he drank a little too much beer. And the burping could also be more discreet. Stephen didn't care about any of that. Somehow he thought that beer and Mallorca formed a unit. And if that bothered you, just get in touch. So far, Stephen had shagged everyone who was bothered by something to their senses.

[allfearstofallto]

Where I think their darling is from + How they met them - headcanon drabbles

Yandere! Scaramouche, Diluc, Ayato (separate) x reader.

AN: I couldn't think of one for Childe, but spoilers, I think his darling is from Liyue. I'm also writing a full fic based on Ayato's section, just putting on the finishing touches!

Scaramouche -

A Drunk from Mondstadt

The city of freedom. A cute name. A lying name. He knew better than to think there was such a thing as actual freedom, but if it helped the drunken residents sleep at night to believe that, then so be it.

Missions to Mondstadt were short work for him. Partially because he was one of the few Fatui who didn't want to stop and take a drink or enjoy the scenery and “freeing wind” as they called it. He’d rather get things over with and just go home.

“Free samples! Free samples!” That was another thing he hated about Mondstadt. It was constantly noisy. Whether it be advertisements or the people themselves, the city was never quiet.

“Would you care for a sample?” He wanted to ignore you and just walk past, but of course you had to call him out personally. He scoffed and shot you a glare, something that would make most people tremble, but you didn't even flinch. Were you dumb? Or just plain ignorant, either way he didn't see your future as being very bright.

“Wow, you're very angry. Maybe you need two samples,” you reached over to the table next to you and handed him two cups. A sickly sweet smell hit his nostrils and he resisted the urge to gag, “It's a new mead recipe, including this season's fresh fruit. A very popular flavor, I designed the recipe myself.”

He raised an eyebrow at what you said? The hopeful look in your eye made him actually want to drink this sugar concoction. Pure anticipation on your face, a look that was normally annoying to him, but he found your hopefulness rather charming. Cute even.

Scaramouche eyed the cup for a second longer. Then brought it up to his lips. Disgusting. It was absolutely disgusting. That syrupy sweetness coating his tongue damn near induced vomiting, but he held back any emotions. The only pleasant part of the entire drink was the bitter liquor aftertaste.

“So?” You asked. There was a sparkle in your eyes like a gem, he felt himself falter, a feeling he hadn't felt in years. He wanted to be soft to you.

“It's good,” he muttered, a bold face lie of he'd ever told one before, but you seemed to believe it.

“Thank you, sir!” You exclaimed and he could help, but to partially match your smile.

As you continued to talk and recommend wines and beers to try, he barely listened, but he couldn't walk away. The eccentric way you spoke and moved had a hold on him. He wanted that at home with him. Maybe Mondstadt wouldn't be so bad to visit again after all.

Diluc -

A Scholar from Sumeru

Diluc’s mornings consisted of walking around the vineyard, checking on the grapes, and pulling away any that weren't purely perfect. It was a job that started long before the sun even rose and only ended right before the winery opened.

The day looked average. Nothing too out of place. Nothing except for you. With the way you were crouched so still, he almost didn't notice you, your unmoving form practically making you blend in with a bush of grapes. But there you were. Dressed from head to toe in the green Akademiya garbs, he hadn't seen a scholar outside of Sumeru in some time.

“You're quite a long way from home,” he finally spoke to you, crossing his arms to make himself look more intimidating, “And you're trespassing. The winery doesn't open for another four hours,”

You finally turned your head to look up at him with a look of confusion on your face, “But I'm not here for wine?” You said, tilting your head to the side. Finally you stood, picking something up that was next to you. A small notebook, an obvious accessory for a scholar, “I'm here for the grapes.”

One of Diluc’s red eyebrows raised in confusion, “We don't just sell the grapes,”

“I know that!” You laughed like he said something truly funny, even lightly hitting him on the shoulder. Your strike felt no heavier than a feather's touch against his built shoulder, “I'm studying them. Wine from Mondstadt is known to have the best taste, and I'm researching that.”

“By trespassing?”

“By studying your grapes. Good wine starts with its grapes,” you affirmed. You opened your notebook in front of him to show him doodles and notes that you’d written, all actually pertaining to grapes. So you actually weren't lying.

A small smile formed on his lips. It was like it was forced out of him. You were truly passionate about what you were doing, even if it was something as mundane as the grapes that went into wine.

“How about you study the grapes when the sun is up? I have a spare room in the manor that you could use,” Diluc wasn't one to shy away from kindness, but normally staying a night in the manor costs more than a few fun drawings and a charismatic character, but he felt himself falling into an ease around you.

“Could I? Really? Thank you,” You followed him as he led you up the steps to the manor. He knew he was getting ahead of himself, but he still let one of his hands fall and hold your waist as you walked up the stairs.

He was attracted to you, yes, his red eyes couldn't seem to leave your face as you talked on and on, but the hand wasn't placed there because of that. He wanted to make absolutely sure that you wouldn't stumble, like he didn't trust you not to trip and fall over your own feet.

If you noticed the hand, you didn't say anything and as the two of you walked into the manor together, the idea tickled his mind of never allowing you to leave.

Ayato -

a sneak thief from Inazuma

What you were doing was bases to have you killed. He wondered if you knew that. If you did then you were even more bold for doing it.

The maids in the Kamisato estate all had the same face to him. Obviously, they looked different, but remembering their faces and names wasn't too important to him. All that mattered was that they worked.

And worked you did, diligently at that, until all eyes were off of you. The first time he saw you do it, he thought he'd misunderstood. Obviously, you didn't notice that he was there, so when you took a silver teaspoon off of the tray, and dropped it into the sleeve of your obi, his eyes went wide.

He thought that it was a one time occurrence, that maybe he caught you when you were truly desperate. But then you did it again. And again. And again. You were outright stealing from the Kamisato estate, whilst being one of his loyal employees. And yet somehow he couldn't find it in himself to be angry about it.

Your brazen display of disrespect towards the Kamisato name was honestly a little refreshing. Yes, you still bowed when he approached you and referred to him by proper honorifics, but to know that right under his nose, you were still taking from him, that thought was rather thrilling.

While you thought you were being stealthy, and in truth you were. Your sleight of hands was one to be reckoned with. You were good, but not good enough for him to not notice. What you were doing was something you could be killed for. Treason. Blasphemy even. And he fawned over how he could use that against you.

[romanhughesy]

Aftertaste

quinn hughes x indie singer!fem reader

summary: quinn is dragged out to a show at a dive bar, and finds himself drawn to the lead singer...

wc: 5.3k

notes: ive seen a lot of nhl stars x pop girlie reader (a slay every time) but something about the idea of straight laced quinn x indie girl compels me..

As a professional hockey player, it was one of Quinn’s biggest gripes when people told him he only cared about hockey. Mainly because people always said it like it was a bad thing, something they were uncovering that Quinn didn’t know about himself. Something he should be ashamed of. But Quinn knew, and he wasn’t ashamed at all. Hockey was in his blood, inextricably linked with his real biggest priority. His family. Luckily, hockey and family had always gone hand in hand for Quinn. Even when hockey took him far away from everyone, even when people tried to pit him and his brothers against each other, it never strained their relationships. They all knew it was just the nature of the game. Reaching his dreams, being an impactful player, it took thick skin. All three Hughes boys had been raised with that knowledge. 

But, that didn’t mean things didn’t rattle him occasionally. Like now, sitting on a teammate’s couch, trying to savor what he thought would be a chill afternoon sprawling into a quiet evening. Until someone’s phone rang. Dakota Joshua’s girlfriend was on the line, trying to convince everyone to go out. Her friend was in a band playing that night, and ‘there was no cover, so everyone should come.’ Because a bunch of professional athletes worried about paying an entry fee. A couple guys said sure, a couple more said they had plans, and when it was more or less worked out who’d be going, a few of them turned to look at Quinn. He shook his head, not moving from his slumped lean against the back of the couch. He was tired. And comfortable. So he verbally answers, “I’m not a huge live music guy. But thanks for the invite.” 

He hadn’t expected his voice to carry through the phone, really just speaking to his teammate. But the girl on the other line must’ve heard, because she scoffed. “Is that Quinn?” her voice crackled through the speaker. “Figures. He couldn’t care less about anything that isn’t hockey!” 

Quinn could hear that she was joking, but it still stung. He didn’t even know this girl that well. Why was she looking down on him for prioritizing his job, that he was, frankly, great at? Joshua immediately came to his defense, shooting an apologetic look over his shoulder and saying, “Hey, Captain’s locked in. Can’t complain, especially with the way the season’s going.” 

The conversation shifted, and then ended altogether, but Quinn was lost in his thoughts until some of the guys who weren’t going to the bar stood up to leave. What would he do with his evening, if he did go home? Slump on his own couch, watch tape or other games on TV that evening, talk to his mom or Jack or Luke, if they were free? Those were all things he enjoyed, that brought him joy, but none of his excuses sounded good enough when the guys asked if he was sure he didn’t want to go. So, he lets himself be half-dragged into the bar, and if he’s nursing his beer on the edge of their crowded booth a bit grumpily, hopefully everyone will let it slide. The group of people was bigger than he’d anticipated for a free show at a pretty run down bar. Quinn’s not even sure this is technically a concert, as very few people are lingering anywhere near the stage, and no one seems to be paying any attention to the people tuning instruments up there. 

“So, wait, how do you even know this girl?” Quinn hears someone ask, and that brings his attention back to the situation at hand. Joshua’s girlfriend, clearly pleased to hold the attention of the table, smiles widely. 

“Oh, we went to university together! It’s been awhile since we’ve hung out, but she was always so talented. She never actually made her own music in school though, which I thought was strange. So when she mentioned joining a band, I just knew they’d be great!” 

Awesome. Quinn’s been dragged out to see an amateur musician who’s a former classmate of someone he barely knows. He might need a couple more beers to make it through this. 

“What kind of music do they play?” Someone else chimed in, apparently not as put off by the previous answer as Quinn was. 

“I’m not really sure. I think, like, indie rock? She mentioned they’d be doing a lot of covers, because they’ve just recently started playing together. She said they wanted to go ahead with gigging to work out what kind of sound they wanted for their own music, so cool!” 

Quinn was seriously impressed by this girl’s loyalty to her friend. He wouldn’t call himself a big indie rock fan, but there were way less palatable genres, so maybe he’d survive after all. He looked towards the stage, at the band tuning their instruments and checking mics, and turned back to the table with a question of his own. 

“Is she the brunette with the bass?” 

“Nope!” Joshua’s girlfriend answered, eyes bright. She obviously hadn’t expected Quinn to show any interest. “She’s not up on stage right now. But that white guitar they’re sound-checking right now is hers. I recognize it from her Instagram.” 

Quinn nodded, curiosity satisfied. Conor rose from the other side of the booth, clearly heading to the bar, so Quinn slid out too, maybe a bit overly eager to step away from the larger group. Lucky for him, they lingered by the bar even after getting their drinks, so Conor was either a mind reader, or just felt similarly. They made easy chatter, and Quinn felt some of the tension in his shoulders unwind. Before he’d even thought of rejoining their other teammates, the bar lights dimmed. Quinn hadn’t even realized it was possible to make the space any dimmer. Turning his gaze towards the stage, all the same people as before were settled with their respective instruments, leaving a gap in the middle of the stage. Quinn’s eyebrows raised. A few seconds later, the missing member quietly entered the stage, smiling bashfully. 

Quinn felt like he’d been hit over the head, and that was putting it mildly. Fiddling with an acoustic guitar, high points of her face getting kissed by a spotlight, the lead singer was maybe the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

“Hi, everyone. We don’t quite have a name, or much original music right now, but we’re gonna play some of our favorite songs for you guys tonight. Hope you enjoy.” Her voice was soft, tinged with nerves, but still warm. Quinn couldn’t look away as she adjusted her grip on her guitar one more time, and shared a glance with the bass player on her right. The band started playing, and Quinn’s breath was stolen. 

They were playing an older song Quinn vaguely recognized, quiet, soft rock. He hadn’t really ever considered someone’s singing honest before, but that’s how it felt. Clear, sincere. Just singing from the soul, like she would sound the exact same even if the room was completely empty. 

“You live your life, you go in shadows

You'll come apart and you'll go blind

Some kind of night into your darkness

Colors your eyes with what's not there”

He stood, transfixed, until Conor elbowed his arm and tilted his head towards the booth. He looked like he had some taunts ready, but spared them as the men moved through the mostly quiet room. 

Back of his neck burning, Quinn slid back into the booth. Most of the group had gone to stand by the stage, bringing the amount of people at the table to a much more manageable amount. For Quinn’s social capabilities, at least. Not that he was paying much attention to anyone at the table, eyes glued to the middle of the stage. 

The band had launched into their second song, this one apparently not requiring the singer to also play guitar.  Quinn appreciated its absence, as it gave him an unobstructed view of her. She was in a sleeveless black mini dress and calf-high boots, which should’ve been little dressed up for the dingy bar. But, she pulled it off effortlessly, hair down and catching the light as she tossed in time with the music. Quinn certainly wouldn’t call himself an expert, but he wasn’t even sure if she was wearing makeup other than some lived-in eyeliner. She looked like a girl in a 90’s movie, effortless yet put together, all at once. It was intimidating, but something about her presence was also unmistakably warm and open. Quinn couldn’t look away from how she moved with a casual grace, the way her whole body seemed to respond to the song, guiding her voice. 

“I feel naked when you look my way

You can see it on my face

You're the only reason I came here

You're the only reason I stayed here

And I'm livin' on the aftertaste

Don’t you tell me it’s too late”

Dancing along to the music was obviously shaking off a lot of her nerves, but even far from the stage, he saw the singer’s cheeks flush as the crowd applauded at the end of the song. Cute. After saddling her acoustic guitar once again, the singer leaned into the microphone. 

“This next one is one of my favorite songs. Hope you guys like it.”

“During practice she’d say that about, like, six different songs. I just have to let everyone know.” The person sitting behind a keyboard chimed in, and the singer’s shocked laughter made Quinn feel lightly carbonated. Fizzy, reactive. What was wrong with him?

“I’ve got a big heart. Anyway!” 

She led the band into the next song, and they continued to play a few more, with minimal commentary. They weren’t playing anything Quinn was familiar with, but he didn’t really mind letting the music wash over him. The band were talented, and Quinn could see people around the room who clearly did know the songs enjoying themselves, further validating his assessment. At some point, Conor disappears, and brings back new drinks for the both of them, giving him that taunting look again. This time, he delivers. 

“You know, I thought you weren’t really a live music guy? Seem to be enjoying yourself plenty.”

“Oh, shut up.” 

“What? Just making small talk. Need me to be quiet so you can focus on the music? Maybe she’ll sign your forehead at the merch table later.” 

Quinn lets out a long-suffering sigh. There’s nothing he’d change about his life, really, but he sometimes dreams of a world where he’s a scary captain that people don’t make fun of for their own entertainment. That’d show them. He settles, instead, for making fun back, like any respectable adult with younger siblings. 

“Signed a lot of autographs lately? She could probably teach you how.” 

Conor lets out a shocked sound, but their back and forth is cut off by applause echoing through the bar. 

“Thank you!” The singer is once again guitar-less, nervously fiddling with her mic stand with dainty hands that Quinn’s eyes get stuck on. They must be tough, for how deftly she plays her guitar, but they look small. Quinn buries a half-formed thought of brushing against them, holding them in his own. He’s losing it. 

“We’re gonna do a few songs with some different vibes, if that’s okay with you guys. We’re still working on pinning down what style of music we really like making as a band, so we’d love to know what you think of these. This first one is called Starling, and it’s actually an original of mine.” 

Her cheeks flush at the scattered cheers through the room, and once the song starts, Quinn understands why. The song is raw, subdued instrumentation highlighting her voice. She sings most of it with her eyes shut, but not tightly. Not fearful. She’s swaying gently, and her voice soars through the dingy bar. 

“And she says we're the lucky ones

And you know why

To meet another is a miracle, let alone you and I

You and I, you and I”

The applause at the end of the song is noticeably louder than the songs before. Quinn claps, and Conor doesn’t even make fun of him, because he’s clapping too. The lead guitar player pats the singer on the back as she takes a swig of water and visibly tries to settle her nerves. 

“Okay, that was scary! Let’s have fun now.” 

The next song is folksy and upbeat, old-fashioned. It reminds Quinn of something his parents would listen to. The band really digs into it, the audience responding in turn, and Quinn feels weirdly connected to it all. It reminds him of being on the ice, a good shift where he feels like a live wire and can anticipate the moves of all of his linemates. Everything ramps up towards the end of the song, and it’s actually Conor who’s shoving Quinn out of the booth, towards their teammates closer to the stage.

“Seems like the last few songs are fun. Let's be social.” 

Quinn lets himself be dragged, like he has all night, folding into the group. A couple of the guys seem shocked to see them, Soucy throwing a “We thought you guys bailed!” over his shoulder. Quinn shrugs, but tries to fake-nonchalantly answer before Garland. Whatever Conor might say would do him no good. 

“Nah, just hanging back at the booth. Still tired from earlier.” 

“Nice. They’re doing a good job up there. Joshua’s girl is losing her mind.” 

Quinn is too, a little, but he refuses to say that out loud. Luckily, they’re interrupted. 

“Thanks for really getting into that last one. That’s one of my favorites.” One of the other band members snickers and starts to interrupt, Quinn sees their teasing smile from where he stands. The singer cuts them off, grinning widely and continuing her sentence,

“This is our second to last song. Laugh at me if you want, but it truly is my favorite song these days. Not one of my favorites, just my favorite. This is Juna by Clairo. Let’s dance!”

He’s never heard it before, much like the rest of the set, but this song is definitely his favorite, too. It’s still playful, but has a sensuality that’s completely out of left field. Taking the microphone from the stand, the singer slinks across the small open area of the stage. Her hips sway, free hand gesturing with the music, and she looks so good Quinn almost can’t bear it. She’s singing directly to the audience, confident and present in a way he hadn’t seen from her so far. And he’d definitely been paying more attention than he’d admit to anyone. 

“You know me, you know me

And I just might know you too, know you

Come to me ready”

Joshua’s girlfriend throws her hands up when the singer looks their way, and the singer looks down at her friend with a dazzling smile, sweeping her eyes over the rest of the group. Quinn has a weird instinct to avert his eyes, or run away, but he’s too late. The singer is looking at him. Quinn swears he sees her eyes widen, just a fraction, but the moment breaks, the rhythm moving her across the stage. He spends the rest of the song— and most of the following one— in a daze. He claps when everyone else claps, lets himself be moved like the crowd moves, but he’s mostly just drinking in the singer’s appearance. Her charm, her confidence, it’s magnetic. He’d be embarrassed, but he’s definitely not the only one looking. And that makes something smolder in him, stifling and warm. 

“Thank you all so much for being here. This was actually our first show all together as a band, so it’s been very special. Enjoy the rest of the evening!” 

The audience gives one last hardy round of applause, and the band don’t bother with theatrics, unceremoniously beginning to break down all their equipment. Quinn, as per usual, lets himself be led to the bar for another round, and then back to a table. Some of the girls in the group are chatting about how much they liked the set, how they’d love to see them again, but one comment in particular lands heavy on his brain. It’s Joshua’s girlfriend, pretending to be casual when she boasts,

“I told you guys Y/N was amazing! I texted her and told her she should come hang with us for a minute when they’re all packed up. I hope she has time.” 

Conor elbows him. The little shit. Quinn gives him a withering look, but he knows at least one of the other guys had to have noticed the interaction. 

“Oh?” Dakota raises an eyebrow at him. “Interested in meeting Y/N? Didn’t really think you cared for live music, Cap. Had to drag you into the bar and all.”

Quinn visualizes the alternate universe where he’s intimidating his teammates, and decides to play dumb in real life. 

“Who? The only reason I haven’t left is because Garland keeps buying me drinks.” 

Joshua doesn’t quite buy it. 

“That’s nice of him. Means you have room for a couple drinks for Y/N on your tab, then. She was the lead singer. Seemed like you were keeping an eye on her.”

“You know, not a huge live music guy, myself, but I’ve heard when people are onstage you’re supposed to pay attention to them.” Quinn chirps, perhaps belatedly realizing getting defensive about the girl would only make things worse. The guys laugh, and the conversation moves on, so he must’ve said just enough to be let off the hook. 

Quinn lets his thoughts wander, rather than taking part in the mindless chatter. He really is tired. Everyone will tease him for leaving, but he’s been more than a good sport. He’s absolutely far surpassed his “not hockey” quota for the day. Just as he decides on getting up and telling everyone goodbye, other people around the table are standing, and some of the girls are fussing. Did someone else decide to leave before him? Even better, he can just tack onto someone else’s goodbye, slip out with even less attention on him. He gets out of his chair and realizes he’s fallen into a trap of sorts. 

In the middle of all the commotion is Dakota Joshua’s girlfriend, bragging about her friend while wrapping her in a tight hug. The lead singer. She’s clearly overwhelmed by the enthusiasm, but gives the group a genuine smile. 

“This is my boyfriend, Dakota, and these are a bunch of his teammates!” She rattles off their names, as if the singer will remember them, and Quinn feels something inside him ignite when he locks eyes with the girl again. 

“Nice to meet you guys. Thanks for coming out! So glad I didn’t realize who you all were until now. I would’ve freaked out.” The singer’s smile turns shy, and Quinn sees a couple of the guys almost visibly puff up their chests, enjoying the recognition. He is too, sure, but he hopes it’s not too obvious. 

“Big Canucks fan?” Joshua asks while slinging an arm around his girlfriend, pulling her closer. 

“Born and raised. If it’s not too much trouble, I’d love a picture to send to my parents. They’re gonna lose their minds.” 

Dakota’s girlfriend is already whipping out her phone before the singer can finish her sentence, gathering everyone into the frame. Conor, ever the meddler, shoves Quinn towards the center, and he ends up right next to the girl he’s been admiring all evening. He breathes in her clean, citrusy perfume, and isn’t sure he remembers to smile for the picture, dazed. Joshua’s girlfriend looks through the photos and seems pleased, so Quinn must look normal enough.

“They came out so cute! Y/N, do you have a favorite player? If he’s here let’s get a picture of just you two!”

The singer, Y/N, he mentally corrects, stammers out an excuse, but she seems to quickly learn the lesson Quinn learned in his earliest days in the sport. Give hockey players an obvious weak point, and they’ll exploit it, on or off the ice. A few of the guys tease, lightheartedly, but still pressing for an answer. 

“Um… it’s 43. Hughes…” She’s avoiding his eye, and the guys are going wild, but Quinn hardly notices. He’s floating, mentally thanking every extra rep in the gym, every early practice, even his parents for loving the sport so much they passed it onto him. Quinn can’t help his small smirk as Joshua’s girlfriend gestures for Y/N to hand her phone over, opening the camera and telling them to get together and pose. 

Quinn takes a step closer, hovering his arm around her waist, until he finally catches Y/N’s eye. He tilts his head, wordlessly questioning. She nods and wraps her own arm behind his back, so he lets his hand settle. It’s not hard to smile for the picture when he’s pressed against her side. His guys are jeering, but he pays them no mind as Y/N is handed back her phone. Now or never, probably, Quinn thinks to himself. So he dives. 

“D’you mind sending those to me?” He asks, trying to keep his voice low amongst all the chaos of the group. He doesn’t exactly want commentary as he’s trying to shoot his shot. 

Y/N blinks up at him, and he finds her visible confusion endearing. 

“You want me to send you the pictures of us together?”

Quinn just nods. She blinks some more, brow furrowed. 

“Yeah, sure, I can. Why?” 

Quinn wishes he had some witty or charming response, but there’s something about her straightforwardness that disarms him. She doesn’t seem to realize how interested Quinn is, for better or for worse. 

“Well,” He rubs the back of his neck, “It was the most casual way I could think of to ask for your number.” 

At that, Y/N’s eyes widen, but she also smiles in a coy way that makes Quinn think he might be in over his head. 

“Oh! Well, in that case, I’d be more than happy to send you those pictures.” She hands Quinn her phone, already open to a new contact, and he takes it from her outstretched hand.

“You guys did great up there, by the way. Especially for a first show. I never would’ve guessed.”

Y/N gives him that warm, happy smile, and he melts. 

“Thank you! I haven’t performed in front of a crowd since middle school choir, so I’m honestly just proud I made it through the set at all.”

Quinn, once again, is floored. Sure, she seemed anxious at first, but he still gets visibly nervous before stepping on the ice all these years later. The idea of doing something for the very first time with so much grace makes him jealous, in a weird way. He doesn’t know how to express all that to a stranger, so he doesn’t. 

“Really? You looked at home up there.”

Y/N’s gaze softens a bit, something that wasn’t quite shyness— maybe vulnerability— creeping in. 

“That means a lot. It’s something I’ve always dreamed about, always craved. But I was too scared until really recently.”

“That’s really brave.” he responds, thrilled by her flushed cheeks and bashful smile.

“That’s funny,” Y/N says, taking a step closer, holding steady eye contact now, “I find it really brave to hold onto your childhood dreams. I never had that strength.”

Now Quinn is the one flushing. Of course, plenty of people praise his hard work, but many also say his success was handed to him. He’d never deny his good fortune; his amazing parents were certainly the foundation and entry point for his dream. But, he couldn’t have gotten to this point if it was just his parents’ dream for him. He held firm through a lot of exhaustion, pain, and uncertainty. Someone else acknowledging that makes all of the old feelings almost tangible. It’s an uncomfortable sensation for Quinn, one he doesn’t like to linger on.

“It takes a village.” He answers, trying to sound at ease. Y/N laughs.

“How diplomatic! I forget you guys get media trained.”

At that, Quinn laughs, too. He’s fascinated by the discerning sharpness that almost underscores the warmth and openness the girl projects. As if, somehow, she’s looking right through him, but she likes what she sees. He wants to see more of her, in turn. 

“You’ll need some of that too, soon enough. I bet the band’s gonna get big.”

“Let me get used to playing in dive bars first, even just thinking about anything bigger is going to give me a panic attack for the foreseeable future.”

“You don’t wanna come sing the anthem at a game?” Quinn can’t help but tease, rewarded by Y/N’s eyes going wide. 

“That honestly makes my knees weak. Do you ever get used to playing in front of all those people?”

Quinn tilts his head, considering his answer. He doesn’t want to sound full of himself, but he wants to be honest. 

“A lot of times, I’m not really thinking about the audience. I’m just focused on the ice. But, when the crowd gets really worked up, it can definitely impact the game.”

Y/N nods, brow furrowed as she thinks over his answer. 

“For better or for worse? Depends on where you are?”

“Yeah,” Quinn answers with a smile, but it’s tight around the edges. “Some places can be fun to play but not exactly welcoming.”

“That’s so interesting. I never thought about how much of the game is mental. No wonder you guys try to be so even-tempered in interviews and stuff.”

Quinn’s lips lift into a smirk. 

“You watch a lot of my interviews?”

Y/N huffs, rolling her eyes, but he sees her cheeks darken a bit.

“Oh, hush. I mean, like, whoever gets star of the game or whatever. Always giving generic answers.” 

She’s certainly not wrong. Quinn wants to keep talking, but the bass player of the band steps into the conversation, with an impish smile and hand on Y/N’s shoulder. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but Y/N, do you still want a ride? I’m about to head out.”

“Yes, please.” Y/N replies, and if Quinn wants to believe there’s a bit of reluctance in her tone, he will. She turns back to him with an apologetic smile that certainly helps his interpretation. “It was really nice meeting all of you guys. Thanks again for coming out. We’ll absolutely be bragging at every show about how the Canucks were at our very first gig.” 

“Of course,” Quinn replies. “We’ll have to get you guys out to a game soon.”

“A cultural exchange, of sorts.” The bassist chimes in with a laugh. Y/N shakes her head, but Quinn laughs along.

“Exactly! See you guys around.”

If he watches the two girls walk away, heart thudding when Y/N looks over her shoulder to wave goodbye, that’s between him… and Conor, who scurried over the second the musicians walked away to clap a hand on Quinn’s shoulder and shout something that sounded vaguely like “Attaboy!”. He must’ve had a few more rounds after the show ended. 

—

A few days later, Quinn’s just getting home from an early morning practice when his phone buzzes. He mindlessly opens the notification, not realizing it was a text from an unsaved number until he’s staring at pictures of him and Y/N, with a caption that makes the corner of his lips raise. He saves the contact, and pretends he’s not looking at the photos some more. 

From: Y/N 🎤

so… when’s the next game? :)

To: Y/N 🎤

Coincidentally, tomorrow. You guys free?

Quinn busies himself with preparing lunch, refusing to sit idle by his phone, as much as he wants to. When he sits down with his food a while later, he allows himself a glance at his messages, as a reward for his restraint. 

we don’t have to do the anthem, right?

Not this time. Just show up and have fun. As long as we get some tickets to the next gig, of course

well then… i’d love to! 

everyone else says they already have plans :(

Quinn takes a deep, calming breath, trying to summon up some courage. He thinks of Y/N, wide eyed and beautiful, calling him brave, but the image actually makes him more nervous. He shoots off a text anyway, before he can overthink it too much. 

Tough crowd. But you still wanna go? We could grab dinner or drinks after

He does a few laps around his apartment, wearing down his rug a bit more, before his phone buzzes. Quinn’s not proud of how quickly he dives back onto the couch, but at least no one is around to see. 

i was hoping you’d say that :) 

see you then!

Well, that settles that. Quinn does a few more nervous laps, suddenly feeling keyed up despite very recently finishing a grueling practice. He’s trying to mentally settle himself before he does something dumb, like tear through his closet and stare at every game day suit he has and decide he hates them all. But, he’s not quite sure where to put all the nervous energy he has. He forces himself to sit back down, thumbs moving across his phone screen. 

Need any gear? I can have someone bring you some

He doesn’t want to name the feeling that compelled him to ask. But it grows when, a few minutes later, Y/N answers. It’s another picture, but not from the other night. A mirror selfie. She’s in leggings and a Canucks jersey, facing forward but twisted just enough for Quinn to read the backwards 43 on her arm. His stomach soars, or free falls, he’s not quite sure which.

[image]

born and raised fan, remember? my parents would disown me if i showed up to a game without a jersey

He decides to play it cool, trying to slow his heart rate by joking around.  

Looks good, outdated though. Gotta get a C patch

Y/N’s response is quick, like she’d been waiting around for his reaction. Quinn tries not to think about it too hard, tries not to put too much stake into all of these little signs that a girl like Y/N is interested in him. 

🙄 not all of us have an equipment team

I’ll take care of it. See you tomorrow, Y/N

see yaaaaaa

good luck! 🍀

Quinn swears he moves through the rest of his day like normal. He goes through the motions, and he tries to pay as little attention as possible to his wandering thoughts. He’s used to fixating on hockey, trying to predict how games will go. Forecasting what will go right, and, maybe more importantly, what will go wrong. He’s built his career off of his attention to detail, his extra effort. It’s easy, and comfortable, to prepare for games with his team. As the hours go by, inching ever closer to puck drop, he can’t deny his excitement. For the opportunity to keep playing the game he loves, with his guys, for their fans. And maybe, just maybe, he also pictures Y/N, swathed in one of his jerseys with red cheeks from the cold of the rink, wearing that bright smile. He thinks about taking her on a date after the game, and how badly he wants to impress her, like she impressed him with her music. Thank goodness, he’s been working all his life to rise to the occasion when he’s out on the ice.

--

hiding a playlist/song recs in this fic bc i love u all.. songs directly referenced are fade into you by mazzy star, aftertaste by katie gavin (title inspo!), and juna by clairo! the "original song" is actually starling by sarah kinsley, and her music is GORGEOUS i highly recommend if you like indie singer/songwriter vibes.

some other artists i'd recommend you listen to ~for the vibes~:

phoebe bridgers, boygenius, mitski, fiona apple, and the newest beabadoobee album was super inspirational for this!!

if u made it this far you should send me a song rec of your own hehe

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

meeting him at the pub

(cw: age gap)

I don’t know how it happened, how I ended up chatting to the tall metalhead at the pub. But I was meeting my friends there like every other Wednesday and when I got drinks from the bar, a dark, friendly voice piped up. “Hey, nice shirt.” My head whips to the side, looking for the person who gave me the compliment.

Right there at the table, sitting alone, a huge, tall guy with long dark hair. Tattoos adorned the big strong arms distracting from his bandshirt, I think it’s from Dark Tranquility. The drawings span to his hands ending at the knuckles, that moved as he grabbed the bottle of beer standing right in front of him.

My eyes close in on his face, a ruggedly handsome one. A nose that seems to have been broken at least twice. Lips formed into a friendly smile. Serious eyes looking straight at me, eyes that had seen some shit, but the laugh lines around them speak of a man who rather likes to laugh. He also looks a bit older than me.

I almost stumble over my own feet, halting for a moment to look which shirt I’m wearing today. It’s my Death shirt, the one with the Symbolic Album art. I look back up at him, smiling. “Thanks!” I continue my trip to the bar, a pep in my step.

When I walk back with the drinks in my hand, I shoot another friendly look in his direction. One that he answers with a nod and tipping his beer in my direction. And I totally blush at the little friendly gesture. I sit down with my friends handing them their beers, but I can’t help my eyes finding their way back to him every so often, to see what he’s doing.

He’s just chilling alone, at his table, drinking his beer, looking at the TV where some kind of soccer game was being shown, playing with his phone from time to time. It is so fucking tiny in his huge ass hands. And half the time I look in his direction, his gaze is already on me. Which is making me nervous. Not because it’s creepy or anything in that sense, but because he’s attractive. Oh my, ruggedly handsome, seeming like a gentle giant, while the way he’s sitting and observing everything around him is telling a different story.

“Just go fucking talk to him.” My friend sitting to my right grins at me. I shrug. “I don’t know.” They roll their eyes. “Just do it, you little chickenshit.” I throw up my hands. “Fine, fine, okay.” I snatch up my beer and hesitatingly make my way to his table.

He’s already looking at me, sitting up straight, as I approach him and ask with a shy smile on my face: “Can I sit here?” I point at the stool across from him. He seems a bit surprised, but he nods. “Sure, take a seat.”

I sit down and then a moment of silence falls over us where we just look at each other. The corner of his mouth is tilted up, a half-smirk making his face even more handsome, a few strands of hair falling over his left eye and cheek. He seems a little bit tense and I suddenly feel a little bit self-conscious. We just look at each other. And I can’t stop looking at him.

“So, you like Death too, huh?”, I ask him, and then I hear how that sounded. “The band, I mean.”, I clarify laughing. He joins in, a dark manly chuckle falling from his lips, and I can see his shoulders drop down a bit. Seeming a little more relaxed.

“I do.”, he answers. “Actually, one of my favourite bands.” His voice is a bit higher than I would have anticipated from such a big guy, he has a nice timbre and some kind of accent when speaking English, that he’s trying to mask.

“Understandably so.”, I say, going on a rant about my favourite bands. He just looks at me, stunlocked. His mouth slightly open. His eyes scanning my face, dropping down every so often. I don’t stop talking and he listens, nodding along.

“I also like Lorna Shore a lot, do you know them?”, I want to know. He shakes his head, still intently listening while only speaking every so often. “They’re a symphonic deathcore band, and my god, their music just blows you away.” He chuckles again. “And they’re in town next week, but I don’t have anybody to go to the concert with me.”, I say, turning down the corners of my mouth.

“I could accompany you.”, he chimes in which shuts me up. A friendly offer. But the way he’s looking at me is making it feel like so much more.

“Really? You would do that?”, I ask surprised.

He shrugs one of his shoulders, looking to his fingers that fiddle with the label on the beer bottle. “Yeah sure, I can be your company for that evening.”

I close my mouth and think about it for a moment. “Of course, that would be… very nice of you.” Great, I’m so eloquent when it comes to flirting with men. Especially older, tall metalheads. But the way he’s still fidgeting with the beer bottle, I think he’s having a hard time as well. Which makes his offer so much more surprising. But I’m not mad at it. Not at fucking all.

I clear my throat. “Maybe I can get the tickets and you can get the drinks?”, I suggest. I wouldn’t want this to seem like I wanted to mooch off him.

He hesitates for a bit, but then nods. “Sure.” I nod as well and drink some of my beer. So that’s that, huh?

“So, what do you do? For a living?”, I ask him. He halts for a second, and I add: “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, of course.” I tilt my head and push my cheek into my propped-up hand.

A smile forms on his lips, as he looks to the side for just a moment, but his eyes find their way back to me. “You’re a nosy one, huh?” which makes me hide my face in my hands looking at him through my splayed fingers, but he only laughs at my gesture.

“I’m actually a soldier, a mercenary. I’m currently on leave.”, he explains. My eyes widen at his words.

“Really? Damn okay.” That explains the aura around him that I couldn't pinpoint before. “So like, what’s your specialty or however this is called in the military?”, I ask, still being nosy.

His lips curl into a confident smile, his whole demeanor changing a bit. “I’m an insertion specialist.” And the way he says that makes my skin tingle, my jaw dropping down a bit. Because the tone in his voice makes me think about a certain kind of insertion. The ‘drop your clothes, get naked together’-kind.

He laughs again as he sees the expression on my face. “Get your mind out the gutter.”, he jokes.

“Huh, I didn’t say anything.”, I defend myself, weakly, holding up my hands in defense. He pulls up his eyebrows, donning a knowing smile and leaning back.

“M-hm.”, he says and his fingers wander to his lips, stroking over them absent-mindedly. “I specialize in breaking down doors and getting people out of whatever situation they’re caught in.” How he says it makes me smile, because he says it so non-chalantly, but I can see the pride behind his words.

A little silence falls over us again, but instead of being uncomfortable we just sit in it and look at each other. He drags his hand through his hair, his fingers threading through the brown strands. And I’m so normal about this. My god, why does he have to be so attractive?

“How old are you?”, he asks me, his eyes searching my face like I’d have it written on there. The first question he asked me this evening.

“I’m 25. And you?”, I return the question. He winces a bit, but he answers: “I’m 41.” I nod and sip on my beer. Well, I already assumed that he’s older than me, so I’m not really surprised by the age gap.

“I’m old enough to be your dad.”, he says and takes a sip from his beer. My eyes are glued to his lips, the way the bottle rests against them. Then he swallows and I follow the motion as the liquid flows down his throat.

I arch a brow. “No, you’re not.”

He tilts his head to his side, a little smile forming on his lips. “Well, maybe if I started early, I could be.” His eyes dart to me, for just a moment.

The other brow joins the one already sitting at my hairline. “Did you start early?”, I ask him.

His smile gets wider while he slowly shakes his head. “No.” He takes another sip and leans back a bit.

“So, not actually old enough to be my dad.”, I conclude the conversation, a grin turning up the corners of my mouth. “I’m gonna get another drink, you want one as well?”

He looks at me, his eyes boring into me. I see the little twinkle in them, but he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I got to get home.”, he finally says, the expression on his face turning apologetic.

I hide my disappointment behind a charming smile. “Okay, no worries.”, I tell him.

He leans forward, coming a little bit closer, and I stand my ground, even as his scent hits my nostrils, and I have to damp down the excitement flooding my veins. He’s smirking at me now and raises his hand until his finger makes contact with my nose. He just booped my nose. “Tell you what though. Let’s exchange numbers and then we’ll see if you’re still up to going to a concert with me when you’re sober.”

I laugh a bit and pull out my phone from my pocket. “Okay, deal.” But his words also make me think. “Don’t you trust my judgement?”, I ask him as I hand him the device which looks ridiculously small in his hands.

He grins while tapping on the screen. “I do, but I don’t trust myself when I stare into the face of a beautiful woman.” He looks at me again and hands me back the phone, getting up. And he gets taller and taller and taller. I mean, I saw that he’s freaking huge when he was sitting down. But my god, he’s more than a foot taller than me. I have to put my head back to be able to look up at him.

“A beautiful woman, huh?”, I repeat his words back to him, ignoring the way this sentiment makes me feel.

“Aye.”, he says leaning down a bit. “Good night then.” He presses a small, almost chaste kiss onto the top of my head, while at the same time grabbing his leatherjacket. He puts the worn piece of clothing on and heads in the direction of the door.

I look down and see the new contact in my phone. His number, but instead of his name the little crown emoji sits on the top of the page. “Wait, what’s your name?”, I yell after him.

He turns around again, the long hair whipping over his shoulder, grazing over the worn leather. A grin lights up his face. “König, you know, like ‘king’ in German.”, he explains. He raises his hand again and waves goodbye, then he’s out the door.

He’s gone, but he’s still on my mind the rest of the evening while spending time at the pub, on my way home, as I’m getting ready to finally sleep. Especially the little forehead kiss lives in my mind rent-free.

When I wake up again in the morning, I contemplate what to do while I get myself a coffee. Finally, I gather my courage and shoot him a text.

metalhead!König has me in a chokehold, so this was veeeery self-indulgent. i hope you still like it <3more to come soon, because i can't wait to go to a concert with him :')

part 2 or more stuff in the Masterlist

[g1rld1ary]

chilli margaritas - spencer reid x bartender!reader

prev

wc: 852

cw: alcohol, one kinda rude man

you didn't expect to see reid back at the bar so soon. granted it wasn't the next time you saw the bau, but it was close. it must've been a long case since the team were all looking worse for wear, but you imagined they'd caught whoever they were hunting since they were in good enough spirits.

derek got the first round, as was tradition, but you counted more bau members than drinks ordered. you didn't even get to ask, morgan explaining preemptively.

"pretty boy says he wants another drink recommendation," he said with a smile, "i think he just likes you."

"tell him he's welcome over any time, i think he's cute." it was bold, even for you, but doctor spencer reid was fascinating and you really wanted to talk to him more. derek made a face that you hoped meant he was impressed with your forwardness and headed back to his table with the beers.

later in the night, spencer was finally back. you'd been completely in the zone for a while, giving drinks and taking payments as if you didn't even need to think about it. you did, however, almost spill some man's drink all over you when you caught sight of reid standing awkwardly at the bar, watching you work. you all but threw the drink at whoever had ordered it, racing over to where the special agent stood.

"hey," you tried to sound smooth, "back so soon?" spencer smiled softly, endearingly uncomfortable.

"last time wasn't as bad as i anticipated." he shrugged the non-answer.

"and yet i'm getting the feeling that i'm not getting a repeat order?"

"actually the drink wasn't bad! i like really sweet things, my coffee needs a lot of sugar too -- otherwise it's too bitter. so, um, yeah, sex on the beach was pretty good. but i was thinking that maybe you could show me some other drinks too? i never go out drinking and while I've researched different drinks i assume it would be more useful to taste them by someone who can make them properly. I'm twenty four and i've had one cocktail, i need to catch up." you vaguely wondered how he could get so many words out in one breath, but stopped to consider them.

"let's start with the fact that it's okay to not have drunk a whole heap of alcohol. i'm a bartender and i only really drink one or two. but i am more than happy to be your guide into the dazzling world of alcohol." spencer smiled at you again, earnest and trusting and you felt immense responsibility to make him happy. you moved to say something, continue the conversation, but a gruff man's voice interrupted your train of thought.

certain patrons had evidently lost their patience despite there being two of you behind the bar, and your supreme efficiency all night.

"save the flirting for after there's a beer in my hand," he called with a laugh. you turned to face him, dangerously slow, the night's exertion catching up in a moment.

"if you speak to me that way again, i will never serve you another drink for as long as i work here. understood?" your tone was icy, intentionally resisting a peacemaking smile that evidently threw the man off, used to being served hand and foot by women twenty years younger than him. he had the decency to look mildly ashamed, pushing away from the bar to go take a lap of the room.

you turned back to spencer with your good mood reinstated.

"i was thinking we could maybe take a different flavour profile to last time -- a chilli margarita?" spencer was staring at you, eyes wide and dazed.

"that was amazing... um, yeah, that sounds great." you laugh loudly, getting to work on his drink.

"hey," you say as you hand him the glass, "didn't you say you were twenty-four before? last time morgan said you were twenty-three." spencer blushed, avoiding eye contact.

"yeah, it was my birthday."

"and you didn't tell me? i thought we were friends -- i'm your alcohol guide! your drink is on the house then."

"what! no, that's okay i can pay!" you almost groaned at his obliviousness. you were trying to make a move! you argued with him until he surrendered, smiling graciously, though with that already familiar awkwardness.

you watched him go fondly. as your eyes passed the bar counter on the move to get back to work you caught some cash. spencer had tipped the entire cost of his margarita. you rolled your eyes, putting the cash in your apron with a smile you were trying to bite back.

the rest of your night consisted of you watching spencer try and surreptitiously lick the spicy chilli rim off his glass while his teammates were in conversation, and one of them inevitably catching him and teasing him for it. it was a good shift.

[thisismeracing]

okay but a request for a new face around the paddock and Lando having a huge crush and gets some assistance to ask her out 😔

Hi, love!! <3 Since you didn't specify if it was a smau, a blurb, or a full imagine, I decided to go with a blurb, 'key? I hope you like it!! *mwah*

New girl | LN4

― Pairing: Lando Norris x reader (sher/her) ― Warnings: mentions of alcohol, getting stuck on the roof, and typos; ― my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ― check some exclusive pieces here ― you can support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

Someone was playing early 2000s remixes, the sound escaping to the roof where Yn was sitting, nursing a half-full red cup. She was a bit tired. It was her first week attending a race, and things were more hectic than anticipated, though Charles told her it was crazy when you weren't used to the pace.

Still, she was looking for the next Sunday. The next plane ride, the next country to explore.

"Oh- hey," Lando waved after opening the door and finding her sitting in one of the small couches. His face read surprise with a tinge of confusion, but, in reality, he knew she would be there. Carlos told him as much. His friend actually encouraged him to go after her. Lando was infatuated the second he saw her, and when he discovered she was Charles' friend he was quick to ask Carlos for help, which coming to think about now wasn't the best idea.

Maybe he should have asked Charles instead. He probably knew her better. She was the new girl for Carlos too, having just met her the same day Lando did. Or just tried to get to her without any help, but then again, she was so beautiful and so cool, he felt like the whole paddock stopped the first day Yn showed up, though rationally he knew things kept going as usual. He was the distracted one.

"Hi," she waved back, a small smile gracing her lips before she took the cup to her lips sipping whatever drink she was nursing.

"Can I- huh- Can I stay here too?"

Yn nodded, "It's a bit packed in there, huh?" she asked before patting the spot beside her. "Carlos told me I could get some air here instead of in front of the house, the air is flowing good there, but there's still too much noise- and drunk people," she ranted, and Lando thought it was cute the way she would explain things he hasn't even asked yet.

"I'm Lando," the British extended his hand to her, and they shook it right before she said her name as if wasn't etched on his mind, and he sat beside her.

"I know," there's a hint of amusement in her voice. "There's only twenty of you, and you happen to be really close to my friend's teammate."

He chuckled, taking a pull from his beer, and sensing someone behind him. When Lando turned he saw Carlos and Charles at the door, and before he could stop them both, the noise of the door closing echoed around.

"Shit."

"Was it the door?" Yn asked, getting up.

"I think the wind closed it," he tried to keep it cool, even though he was finally understanding why Carlos had asked to borrow his phone.

"Can you call one of the guys to open it up?" she asked, and then added, "For when we want to get back...I'm fine for now."

He smiled, and then his face twisted in a grimace, "I forgot my phone with the guys."

"Mine doesn't have any signal here," she stated, but didn't seem too worried.

"Do they know you're here?"

Yn nodded, "You?"

"Carlos will probably come looking for me any minute now," he tried to convince himself, taking another pull from his beer.

They sat in silence for a beat, the wind making their cheeks cold and the noises of the party muffled by the distance, until Yn started talking about racing, Lando following the train, catching the ride and the opportunity to talk with her and not embarrass himself trying to figure a good topic.

"How do you keep up with all the traveling?"

He chuckles, "Sometimes you don't."

"Oh-"

"Yeah, it can be tiring for the drivers as well, but we just...get used to it I guess. Most of us- all of us, have been driving since we were kids."

"mmhhh, so a bunch of outlaws?"

"What?"

"Driving when it wasn't even legal yet," and she answered with a straight face, no hint of amusement, so much Lando thought she was talking serious, and when he opened his mouth to explain, a nervous look crossed his features, Yn started laughing.

"That was a terrible joke, but you fell for it so..."

"Horrible," he shook his head with a small smile, tipping his bottle upon his mouth. "How about you? How are you keeping up? Are you coming for the next race?"

"I'm exhausted. But I'm also excited about the next stop. I'm definitely joining. I'm just getting my maps ready because Ferrari has a bunch of media stuff this next week and Charles won't be able to be a huge company in exploring...not that he was a big one this last week, but, yeah."

"I can go with you...that is if you want, I can keep you company, I know the next stop pretty well, I used to go there on vacation with my family during my teenage years," Lando shoots his shot, half expecting her to let him down gently, but Yn gifts him with a bright big smile.

"Would you?"

"Yeah, totally."

"Perfect then," she crossed her legs sitting more comfortably on the couch, neck resting on the headrest, while she watched the dark sky above them. "Now, tell me about your side gig- Carlos told me you're into DJ stuff?"

Lando crossed his legs too, his shoulders aligned with hers, staring at the sky as well. He turned his head to the side, and she was already looking at him. He bit his lips to keep the infatuated smile from showing and started telling her about the things he liked to do besides racing. Yn shared with him as well. She told how she and Charles had met, how she loved music, and though she was into sports, she didn't practice any. She told him about her family, studies, and job. And Lando listened to everything attentively, feeling his silly little crush grow with each giggle and look she shared.

A couple hours later, when Carlos and Charles went to check, Yn had her head on Lando's shoulder, both were sound asleep on the couch. The Ferrari duo snapped a picture, and a high five for playing cupid to what would eventually become one of the paddock's favorite couples.

[andypantsx3]

fingerprints | 9 | todoroki x reader

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 3.9k of 38k words | 9th of 9 chapters

summary: When you’re outed as pro hero Shouto’s soulmate on national television, there are really only two sensible things for you to do: blame someone else and run.  

tags/warnings: romance, soulmate au, fluff, pining, not actually unrequited love, aged up characters, eventual smut

fic masterlist

“Momo!” An enthusiastic cry went up from the Class A table.

You watched, a tiny thrill of anticipation zinging down your spine, as Momo smiled and approached your hightop. She was even prettier in person, her dark hair shiny and her features so prim and pert. Even her movements were charismatic and sure.

Mina shoved over to make room between herself and Jirou, and Momo gracefully perched on the stool, accepting the drink Jirou had apparently had waiting for her. Like Shouto, Momo was also treated to a round of fist-bumps which she returned with a soft smile and perfectly manicured hands.

Chatter quickly resumed all around you, Kaminari seizing your attention to show you a trick where he opened his beer with his forearm, looking pleased with himself. Then Shouto wanted to try, and your heart rate ticked up as he shrugged off his sweater in favor of the gray tee shirt beneath, his biceps cording with the movement.

You swallowed your own drink wrong, and Mina had to pat you on the back as you coughed, smirking knowingly. Your eyes briefly met Momo’s as you looked back, and she waved, a dainty little swoop of her fingers.

It took a few minutes for Shouto to learn the trick, as he didn’t seem to have enough fat on his forearm to manage it neatly, and had to push the bottle against the muscle a little more firmly. Once he had managed the cap twist perfectly, however, he presented you with the beer proudly, and you grinned at him.

Those mismatched eyes glittered in the dim light of the bar, dipping to your mouth as you took a sip. Heat pooled low in your stomach as he leaned in, watching you carefully.

You were somewhat startled to notice that his gaze was fixed solely on you, as though he had no thought for anyone else in the room. You realized, quite belatedly, that other than a nod at Momo as she approached, Shouto hadn’t shown any specific reaction.

In fact, come to think of it, no one had seemed to assume that Momo’s place would be by Shouto’s side when she came in. And Shouto had gone right back to opening a beer bottle for you, watching you drink it, looking like he wanted some reaction from you.

You again had the thought that he was unlike anyone else–so watchful, so kind, so unbelievably good down to his core. So unbelievably good to you, down to the smallest thing. He was your soulmate—yours, and he had tried so hard to keep you in his life ever since you had first met. Had dedicated so much of his time and attention to you since then, had made you feel so precious, special, cherished.

Despite all the shit people were saying on twitter, despite the fact that the entire world was on the verge of finding you out for sure. He had never cared. There was only one person he had ever made you feel like he cared for—

And suddenly, just like that, in a tiny, nothing moment, with Shouto’s eyes on you in a dimly lit dive bar–you realized.

Shouto had never been Momo’s.

Shouto had never been anyone else’s. Not in the permanent sense.

Shouto had chased after you. Shouto had been spending all his time with you. Shouto had bought you an entire animal rescue, and was even now sponsoring its refurbishment with miles and miles of security apparatus.

Todoroki Shouto had always, always been yours. And the reaction of his skin to your touch proved it, more definitively than anything.

And you had been so fucking stupid this whole time.

“Are you alright, love?” Shouto asked in his low, soft tone, and you blinked up at him, realizing you’d paused over your next sip.

His face was so stupidly perfect up close, his lashes so long and pretty, his mouth so soft and full. In the dim light, the edges of his scar were softened, a dusky pink against the rest of his skin. You’d always wondered if that part of him would react to your touch too. Before you even realized what you were doing, you reached up and gently pressed your thumb just under his eye.

Color bloomed under the pad of your finger, and Shouto blinked curiously, his fingers coming up to take your hand. Color blossomed under his touch too, staining your skin like watercolor.

You could have leaned in and kissed him right then, but something held you in place.

When you chose him, for the first time, you wanted it to be just between you two. Just for a few moments. Because the entire world would find out as soon as the Todoroki Agency made its statement, only a few days from now.

But you wanted this one thing to be just yours at first–the way Shouto was. No one else’s but yours.

You shot Shouto a grin and finished the beer he’d given you, telling him it tasted better for the cool factor his trick had put into it. You stifled a laugh as he tried not to look smug, and wondered how you could have ever, even for a minute, doubted Shouto’s feelings for you.

The rest of the evening was a blur, a haze of rowdy chatter and a rapidly escalating competition of drinking tricks. Pro heroes could apparently put away a ton of alcohol, and couldn’t resist showboating as they did so. You felt yourself grinning ear to ear, and then found those ears flushing with heat when Shouto’s hand found your hip as he watched his classmates get sillier alongside you.

Fetching your final drink of the evening–just regular soda water, considering you wanted to be clear headed enough to talk to Shouto when you got home–you ran into Momo at the bar.

She leaned in immediately, pulling you into a hug that felt like cashmere and smelled like some light, expensive perfume.

“I’ve been wanting to meet you ever since Shouto first showed up at our agency looking for you,” she said, a little bit of a flush on her cheeks. “I know we haven’t met formally but I feel like I know so much about you already.”

You smiled up at her. “Same to you. Shouto’s told me a lot.” Then you paused, curious about what she’d just meant. “Wait, he showed up at your agency looking for me?”

Momo blinked, then looked embarrassed. “Oh! Yes. Um, I hope you don’t mind. Jirou and I run our own agency and her quirk has to do with sound, you know.”

You nodded, curious where this was going. “Well, she’s excellent at long-range intel gathering and we’ve shaped the agency largely around that. We have a lot of heroes with quirks useful for that kind of thing, and civilian employees who specialize in data-gathering techniques as well,” Momo said. She sounded a little proud. “Um, so when Shouto needed to find you…well…”

A smile crept across your mouth. You remembered all those months ago when Shouto had neatly dodged the question of how he’d found you. “A friend ran video footage,” he’d said evasively.

So Momo had been a friend–the friend–all along.

He must have gone straight to her after the rescue, considering he’d shown up in your animal shelter the very next day. And that itself was a dead giveaway.

God, how could you have ever believed he didn’t want you?

“I will never be able to convey how grateful I am that you helped him find me,” you told Momo sincerely. “But, um, I’d love to buy you a drink as a symbol of my thanks.”

She flushed prettily again, but accepted, and you managed to obtain her drink of choice–an unexpectedly no-frills whiskey on the rocks. You would have to remember that for future nights out. There would never be any amount of drinks that could truly give back to her what she’d helped give you, but you could at least try.

After a little more idle chatter, Jirou came looking for Momo, and you thought you understood things even more clearly when you saw Jirou’s tiny, fine-boned hand slide possessively around Momo’s waist. And then you felt a much larger hand touch yours, and you turned to find Shouto lingering over you, watching you carefully.

And you knew, right then, that you couldn’t wait to tell him any longer.

“Hey,” you said in greeting, feeling pleased and bold and shivery with nerves all at once. “Wanna get out of here? I have something I wanna tell you when we get back.”

Shouto blinked, clearly mystified, but murmured his assent. You collected your coats and bade goodbye to everyone and then started the trek back to Shouto’s place, the night air cool on your skin.

“I like your friends,” you told him as you walked. “They’re good people.”

Shouto’s smile was small and pleased and toe-curlingly charming. “I have no doubt they liked you as well.”

“They just like that I made an idiot of myself on national television,” you said. “They like that I gave you a hard time.”

Shouto politely did not mention how prolonged that hard time had been, given that you’d actually been misunderstanding him for months. He told you instead about all the times Class A had made idiots of themselves on national television too, murmuring stories about their first sports festival in his hypnotically low voice as if to calm and reassure you.

You liked him so much.

When you finally made it through Shouto’s door, and Shouto had replenished Princess’s food and water, you knew it was time to tell him for real.

You drew in a nervous breath, then stepped close to him. “I think…I have decided what I want the Todoroki Agency statement to be,” you said.

Shouto’s mismatched eyes went wide, and you watched as he schooled his features into that classically blank expression, as if he did not want to influence you.

He was so, so, so unbearably good.

You had planned to say more but all of it was lost in that moment as you watched him wait for you, watched him try not to push you. It was what he’d been doing this entire time, you realized. Making his intentions clear, giving you everything he possibly could of himself, but never, ever pushing you into something you did not think you were ready for. Like he’d waited for you that day outside your apartment, holding still, letting you make the final move.

You were finally feeling bold enough to do it.

You leaned up, and, heart in your throat, you pressed your mouth to his.

And it was like the entire world snapped into alignment.

You didn’t know how else to describe it. As soon as your mouth met his, it felt like everything was finally right, a wave of something like relief washing over you. Shouto shuddered like he felt it too, and then his hand came up to catch your chin, cradling your cheek.

He kissed you back fervently–scorching one moment and tender the next. He tasted like the sweet fruit and soft tang of his drinks, sugary and delicious. An electric warmth lit you up inside, roiling in your stomach, every single one of your nerves buzzing.

His other arm came around you, gathering you against him, pressing you tightly to him. You clung to him, desperate.

It was a long time before he let you go, and you clutched the collar of his jacket, feeling a little weak-kneed.

“I hope–” Shouto started, sounding a little dazed. He blinked down at you, then tried again. “I hope that was not a farewell…”

You shook your head, gripping his coat even tighter. “No. No–Shouto, I am in love with you. I’m sorry it took so long for me to get my head out of my butt. I have had the most insane crush on you since the second I met you, and I’ve only fallen deeper the more I’ve gotten to know you. I could never, ever give you up for anything—not my privacy–nothing. I choose you.”

The most stunningly gorgeous smile you had ever seen broke out across Shouto’s mouth, luminous in its delight. “You choose me,” he echoed quietly, as if to himself.

Your heart did a weird flip in your chest at how utterly and insensibly handsome he was in his happiness.

You smiled back, feeling giddy. “Yeah. You’re my soulmate.”

Shouto’s fingers tightened on your chin, and then he was tilting your face back up to his and slotting his mouth against yours once more. It quieted every single word in your head, all the months of self-doubt, the stupid shit people had been saying about you online, the worry about what people would say in the future. All you knew, all you could think of, all you could feel was Shouto’s body pressed against yours, Shouto’s mouth over yours, Shouto’s breath filling your lungs–Shouto, Shouto, Shouto.

His thumb traced over your cheek, and Shouto pulled back, watching the motion of the pad across your skin, doubtlessly tracking the streak of color left behind. “Mine,” he said, more than a little smugly.

It startled a laugh out of you, the childish straightforwardness of it. You supposed he was allowed now, considering he’d behaved so carefully, so gentlemanly all throughout the previous months.

“All yours,” you promised.

Shouto seemed to like the sound of that very much. You heard your jacket being unzipped and suddenly it was being tugged off of you.

Shouto’s mouth found its way to your throat, and his fingers crept up under the hem of your shirt, sliding over the bare skin of your waist. “Y/N,” he breathed. “I almost thought I might never have this. I want to see you, all of you…” All of what’s mine, went unsaid.

You nodded, dizzy with the feeling of his mouth in the hollow of your neck. “Yes–I–me too—want to see you…”

You barely managed to scrape together enough brain cells to successfully pull your shirt off, and Shouto let out a low, appreciative groan, guiding you back to the wall with his hands. You watched as he stared at you, dragging his hands over you. Shivers wracked you at the sight of his dilated pupils following the streaks of color left by his fingers, like he could barely control himself over the thought that you were his.

He really, really wanted you.

Shouto’s mouth back on yours distracted you from thinking much more. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he pressed himself against you, shuddering when you felt his hardness press against your stomach.

His hands came under your thighs, boosting you up against him, and then that hardness was slotting right between your thighs, exactly where you wanted him. Your head made a dull thud against the wall as you threw it back, Shouto’s hips hitching to grind himself harder against you. His breath came harsh in your mouth, and you realized you were no better, letting out little puffs of air, squirming against him.

“Shouto,” you managed between kissed, “Shouto, I want—I want—”

“Yes, love,” Shouto said, even as his hand pressed down against your hip, grinding you harder into him. He let out a shuddering breath, eyes fluttering closed.

“I want you, please—” You gasped, accidentally digging your nails into the meat of his shoulder as another cant of his hips pressed him firmly but indirectly to your clit through the fabric of your pants. “Shouto, Shouto, please—more—”

“Anything you want, love,” he said. “I will give you everything.” And then suddenly he was stepping back, and you mourned the loss of heat against you, frowning.

Before you could get a word in, however, he was dropping to his knees, in front of you, tugging down your pants. Your hands seized his shoulders as he took one of your calves in hand, gently helping you step out of them, pulling your leg over one broad shoulder. He pressed a fluttering kiss to your stomach, and then your hip, and then lower, and lower, and lower, until his fingers were pulling aside your panties, and his mouth pressed directly to you.

Your head made another dull thunk against the wall as you threw it back. This is not what you had meant—!

“Fuck–oh my god—Sho–!”

Shouto groaned deeply, then licked over you more firmly. “Yes, pet?” he murmured, before doing it again.

You produced an embarrassing little squealing noise in place of words. You could feel his mouth shift into a smile against you, which was so weirdly hot, and then he went back to work on you, murmuring his appreciation.

His grip on you was firm, holding you in place as you shook with each delicate suck, each curl and swipe of his tongue. When you finally managed to look down at him, those heterochromatic eyes were staring back, drinking you in carefully, sliding over every spot his fingerprints had left his mark on you. The sight of him so wrapped up in you pushed you right over the edge, and he licked you right through your first orgasm, looking so utterly wrecked himself.

You didn’t have a single second to recover before Shouto was surging up, covering your mouth with his again. He caught you by the waist, and herded you urgently towards the couch, his mouth never leaving yours for a second.

You spilled over the side of it, Shouto’s heavy weight bearing you down to the cushions. You practically tore your panties off and fumbled with his belt, desperate to get Shouto inside you. He seemed to know instinctively what you wanted, slotting himself between your thighs.

His cock was predictably just as gorgeous as the rest of him, long and full, and he slid inside you with a low groan, fisting the cushion beside your head.

“Fuck, love,” he uttered, those long, pretty eyelashes fluttering. The sight of him so instantly undone–the furrow of his brow, and the almost-pained twist to his mouth–almost sent you right over the edge again.

He bucked his hips again, burying himself deeper inside you, and launched into an almost desperate pace, like he couldn’t bear to slow down now that he had you. You didn’t know what it was–if it was the fact that he was your soulmate, or if it was just the fact that he was Shouto–but he fit so right within you that you thought you might be driven insane with the feeling.

He held himself up over you with one hand, and the other dragged over every part of you, cupping your face, thumb sliding across your mouth, then slipping down to circle a nipple. You could see the fingerprints left all across your skin, and Shouto’s eyes seemed torn between your face and those bold streaks of color.

Shouto’s mouth only added to things–he was keeping up a stream of praise in that low tone, rough with feeling. “Fuck, love—that’s it. So good, you’re so perfect. Made for me, like we were made for each other. Mine, you’re mine.”

You could only pant out his name in return, writhing underneath him with every expert twist of his hips. “Yes, Shouto, please–!”

“Wanted you–from the very first minute I saw you—” he groaned. “Want you forever—”

The praise, coupled with the slap of his hips against you, the slide of him inside you immediately became too much.

Something inside you seized up, and you were thrown straight back over the edge, biting off a shout into the muscle of Shouto’s shoulder. The clenching of you around him made him groan, and he picked up, his thrusts became faster and looser, like he was losing control. He reached up, pressing his hand high on your chest, leaving a full set of fingerprints on you like a brand over your heart.

And then he was cumming too, flooding your insides, his hips jerking against yours uncontrollably.

You clung to him, sweaty and flushed and so unbearably full of love for him. He smiled down at you, that charming, half-moon grin, looking so incredibly smug and deeply pleased all at once.

“Did you really want me from the first minute you saw me?” you asked curiously, unable to help yourself now that everything was finally, finally on the table.

Shouto nodded, his hair falling into his eyes as he adjusted himself over you, leaning back on his haunches, pulling himself out of you. “Even before you left your fingerprints on me,” he said. “When I saw you–even though you were less injured than the others, it was like all I could focus on was getting you out of there. I had to force myself to prioritize the way I was trained.”

You blinked, feeling strangely flustered. “Really?”

His smile went charmingly crooked. “Like that, do you, love?”

You could practically feel your face fill with heat thermometer-style, like a cartoon character. “I just–to think we could have had this sooner, if I hadn’t been so stupid.”

“Yes,” Shouto agreed, and you tried not to pout.

“In fairness, you never made any moves on me!” you said.

Shouto’s eyes flickered over you assessingly, and he smoothed back some of your hair away from your face. “I was waiting for you to choose me,” he said calmly. “I know what it is to be the family of a pro hero–what it is to not have a choice about being publicly known.”

You warmed at the mention of family. “I’d pick you whatever the circumstances, Shouto,” you said, giddy with the boldness of actually voicing it out loud.

He leaned back in and took your mouth again, a kiss which grew rapidly more interested as Shouto laid himself out over you once more, his fingers sliding into your hair.

Except, as he did, there was a slight rush of air over you, and a light patter along the top of the couch.

You peeked an eye open to see Princess looming over the two of you, looking extremely put out with the goings on in her domain. You sputtered out a laugh as Shouto looked up too, his expression embarrassed and fond at all once.

“We’ve disturbed her majesty,” you said.

Shouto huffed out a small laugh, then gathered you up his arms. You suppressed a squeal, watching as Princess suddenly grew much farther away.

“We will have to take this elsewhere,” Shouto said, carrying you into his bedroom and shouldering the door closed. “As I’m not finished with you yet, love. We have many months to make up for, as you’ve said.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that left you as he deposited you onto his sheets, climbing over you once again, looking so handsome and mischievous and perfectly yours.

“I’m going to leave my fingerprints all over you,” you promised, leaning up and kissing him again.

“I have wanted nothing more,” Shouto said, smiling into your mouth.

And then you did—you marked him so thoroughly as your soulmate, the way you should have done from that very first day.

And Shouto let you, looking pleased—yours, as he always had been.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 15 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You start to regret showing up for Noah's birthday party once you feel exactly how awkward things are between you and Bradley. But when you witness his jealousy and learn that his hurtful words were more lies than truth, you agree to at least hear him out.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, and age gap (18+)

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

When Bradley managed to pull his head out of his ass long enough to invite you to Noah's birthday party, he hadn't anticipated what it would be like if you actually came. You texted him back on Friday, letting him know you would try to stop by. But now that he and Nat were setting everything up, Bradley was feeling anxious. 

Every time a guest arrived, he poked his head outside to see if your car was there, only to be disappointed. He wanted to see you. That much was plainly evident now. But he wanted to do way more than that. He missed you so much. 

"She'll be here," Nat told him as she held Noah. "There's no way she's going to be able to live with herself if she disappoints this little guy. Isn't that right, Noah? Now pout at your dad."

Bradley laughed as Noah and Nat both made sad, pouty faces at him. "You're right. Nobody could say no to that," Bradley said, blowing a raspberry on his son's neck until they were both laughing. 

Jake strolled in with two six packs of beer and looked around. "Happy birthday, Noah. Where's your babysitter, little dude?"

Bradley rolled his eyes in response, and just as he was about to say he wasn't sure if you were even coming, you opened the front door and met Bradley's eyes right away.

"Hi," you said softly, your arms filled with gift bags and treats as you shifted everything around nervously. 

"Princess," Bradley said before he could catch himself. His heart was pounding as you bit your glossy lip anxiously and turned your attention to Noah. 

"Happy birthday!" As soon as you said those two words, you had Noah's full attention, and he squirmed to get out of Nat's arms and run to you. Bradley watched you kneel and set everything on the floor so Noah could hug you. 

"See? He needs her here. And I don't think he's the only one," Nat whispered as she shoved Bradley toward you. But Jake was right there as well, and Bradley knew for a fact that Hangman was interested in you. He'd been not so subtly asking about you since he saw the photo of you on Bradley's phone at the Hard Deck. The photo of you wearing your purple crown. 

"You must be the babysitter," Jake drawled with a grin as he approached you on the floor with Noah. He was looking down the front of your little dress, Bradley just knew it. And when you looked up at him with innocent eyes, nodding and introducing yourself, Bradley was on the verge of kicking Jake out of his house. Because it looked indecent, the way you were positioned and the way Jake was easing himself a little closer still. 

Bradley cleared his throat loudly. "I'll just take these into the kitchen," he said, scooping up the gifts. And that's when he noticed you'd made a whole container of ants on logs wearing party hats made out of lettuce. Bradley wanted to throw you over his shoulder and take you to his room, make love to you, and never hurt you again. He met your eyes, kneeling just a foot away from you while Noah pawed at you. 

"Okay," you whispered. You looked far less pleased when you were looking at Bradley than you did when you were looking at Noah or Jake. He deserved that. He knew he did. He was lucky you even decided to come today to make Noah happy. 

Oh god, Bradley wanted to take back every horrible word he said to you, but he couldn't. The damage was done now, just as he had originally intended. And he had to watch as Jake helped you stand and run his fingers up your uninjured arm. 

"Hi!" called two of the moms of Noah's daycare friends as they walked in with their own kids, taking Bradley's attention away from you. He greeted them and their children, and ended up adding even more gift bags to his arms. 

Then Mav and Penny arrived. Bradley let Penny take his face in her hands and pat his cheeks, something he probably wouldn't let anyone else do to him. And then she kissed him and asked, "How's the dating thing working out for you?"

Bradley laughed sardonically. "I've pushed that to the back burner, Pen."

"Yeah. Mav told me that Meredith is giving you a hard time. If there's anything we can do...?"

"I appreciate it. I'll let you know."

When Bradley finally went into the kitchen to put Noah's snacks in the refrigerator and set down the gifts, he froze. You had already made your way in here. Your back was to him, and you were talking to Jake. Bradley could hear your laughter in response to something Jake said, and he had never been so jealous before. He was so used to coaxing that gorgeous sound from your lips himself. Those glossy lips that Jake was eyeing up, no doubt thinking about doing something dirty to them. 

Bradley's breath caught in his throat as you turned to glance at him over your shoulder with a bland look. He was so used to your flirtatious smile and bright, wide eyes being focused on him. God, he had taken it all for granted, and now you couldn't stand him. 

And if Bradley thought he had been jealous a moment ago when Jake made you laugh, it was nothing compared to the outrage he felt as he watched Jake touch your waist. He squeezed you gently, letting his fingers dig into the fabric of your floral dress. All of the gifts tumbled out of Bradley's hands and onto the table, and you sidestepped Jake's grubby little hand to turn and look at him. 

"One of my gifts is fragile," you said with annoyance, rooting through the pile to make sure it was okay. But Bradley was looking at Jake, and Jake was looking right back at him before his eyes dipped down to your ass. 

"Seresin. Let's go outside. Now," Bradley growled, pointing at the sliding glass door off the kitchen. 

Jake's little smirk grew as he said, "Sure thing, Bradshaw," and headed out. 

Bradley slid the door closed with a thud and rounded on Jake. "Don't touch her."

Jake laughed heartily. "You fucking her, Rooster? Damn, you must be. Or you were." He paused, and Bradley could feel his cheeks heating up. "Maybe it wasn't any good for her? Because right now, she's not looking at you at all, man."

Bradley ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek and clenched his fists. "Don't touch her, and don't talk about her. Don't even fucking look at her."

But Jake just cocked his head. "Hey, that's some great advice. And here's some for you. If you have access to a hot little piece of ass like that, you don't keep her tucked away in your house. You show that off. Let everyone know about it. That's what I'd do."

"Jake. Just stop." Bradley was fuming now, and also annoyed that he was letting Hangman get under his skin. But Jake was right; Bradley should have been showing you off when he had the chance instead of going on dates with the women from the app. Maybe then you and he would be in a place where he could be bold enough to ask you to stay with him in spite of Meredith.

"Why should I? Are you dating her?"

Bradley closed his eyes for a beat and let out a puff of air. "No."

"If you don't want her, why can't I have her?"

Bradley shook his head. "I never said that." 

You opened the sliding glass door and poked your head outside, and both men stood at attention for you. "The pizzas are here," you told Bradley. "Want me to pay the guy with the money behind the TV?"

Bradley cleared his throat and glared at Jake for a second. "I'll take care of it, Princess," he said, pausing in the doorway with you. He had missed being this close to you, close enough to smell wildflowers. Your expression was softer now, almost that of an injured animal. He wanted to apologize for hurting you, but he settled for letting his fingers trace your knuckles before he pulled out his wallet for the pizzas.

You didn't flinch. You didn't back away. But that look in your eye grew a little sadder, and Bradley knew he had put it there. "Princess," he whispered, softer this time, and your lips parted before you turned and walked away from him and outside to Jake.

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

You were a mess. You shouldn't have come to the birthday party. All you wanted was to see Noah and bring him some treats, but it was killing you to be around Bradley, pretending like you weren't crushed. 

And the second you had let your guard down, Jake started flirting with you. Which was fine. It didn't really matter. He seemed sweet enough even though he kept cornering you in conversation every time you tried to talk to Penny. You did manage to sneak away as Nat waved you over. But you could tell by the sympathetic look in her eyes that she knew Bradley had basically dumped you. 

"Hey, Natasha. It's nice to see you," you managed with a small smile. 

"I'm really happy you came," she replied as Noah ran up to hug your leg before returning to his friends. He had been hanging out with you more than anyone else, really. "And clearly so is the birthday boy."

"Yeah, well... I'm kind of attached to him, sadly," you said with a forced laugh. Then you asked the question that had been on your mind since you arrived. The one you were afraid to hear the answer to. "Hey, is Meredith coming?"

Nat's eyes went wide and she almost dropped her slice of pizza. "Hell no. Why would Meredith be here? In fact, I would go so far as to say that if she decides to show up, I will drag her outside myself and make her leave."

You were gaping at her. "She and Bradley aren't... talking? About getting back together? For Noah?"

Now she really did drop her pizza right onto the hardwood floor. "Who told you that?!"

"Nobody."

Bradley had lied to you about Meredith. But why? What would be the point in that? And if he wanted to hurt you, then why did he invite you here today? Why was he looking at you like he missed you and calling you Princess instead of ignoring you? 

You bent and used your napkin to wipe up the cheese and sauce, and when you stood, Nat looked like she was about to rage. Without another word, she took off in Bradley's direction leaving you with so many questions swirling around in your mind. 

When you made your way back into the kitchen to throw the napkin away, you decided it would be a good idea for you to just sneak out the back door and head home. You once again felt drained and undesirable and disrespected. It didn't really matter how badly you wanted to be here for Noah if Bradley wasn't going to be honest with you about what was going on. You reached for the container of snacks for Noah and set it in the refrigerator, and then you turned to find Jake right behind you.

"Oh!" you gasped, jumping awkwardly. "I didn't know you were in here."

His smile was so charming, you could do nothing but smile back as he said, "Just came in for more pizza, but found something so much nicer instead." He touched your arm again, and you rolled your eyes.

"You're a shameless flirt," you informed him, as if he didn't know that already. 

"What? You don't like that?" he asked, taking a step closer.

You matched his smirk with your own. "Maybe I like a guy who can be subtle sometimes."

"Hey, that sounds like my good friend Bradshaw," he said, running his thumb slowly up to your shoulder. "But maybe he's a little too subtle? A little too reserved? You deserve to be set right on a pedestal. All out in the open."

You laughed. You couldn't help it. This was absolutely ridiculous. "No, I think I would prefer a throne. Like a Princess. In a castle," you told him, thinking about all the castles you and Noah had built out of blocks while wearing your paper crowns. Thinking about the times you and Bradley had been so comfortable together, talking on his couch.

"Okay," Jake drawled. "I like where this is headed. And if Bradshaw doesn't want you, I definitely do, Princess."

You opened your mouth to tell him not to call you that, but he was already leaning in and kissing you.

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

Bradley saw red. He never really understood that expression before. It never made sense. Until right now. It felt and looked like all of the blood in his body was obscuring his vision. And all he wanted to do was make Jake Seresin hurt.

Jake's hands were on your face and neck, and his lips were pressed to yours. Right in the middle of Bradley's kitchen.

Bradley just got finished being reamed out by Nat for being the world's biggest dickhead, so he was already on edge. Already looking to apologize to you and hoping you'd listen to him. But the sight of Jake kissing you was just one step too far, and he wasn't going to let this fly. 

With three swift steps, Bradley was right there, grabbing Jake by the shoulder and pulling him away from you. The startled look in your eyes, and the way you were still holding your arms tight to your sides had Bradley shoving Jake against the refrigerator. 

"I warned you, Hangman," he growled, but Jake just smirked and licked his lips like he was savoring the way you tasted. The fact that he now also knew how nice your lipgloss was had Bradley seeing double. 

"Bradley, it's okay. Stop." Your voice was soft, and then he could feel your hand on his back through his shirt. He turned away from Jake and focused his attention on you instead, unclenching his fists.

"Come with me, Princess." His voice was deep and raspy, and when he wrapped his arm around your waist, you spun away from him. 

"Bradley!" you demanded, a little louder this time. 

"Please?" he asked, and when he leaned down and kissed your forehead in front of anyone who might be looking, you let him take your hand and lead you into the bathroom. When he closed the door, you leaned back against it and bit your lip in silence.

"What the fuck are you doing to me, Princess?" Bradley asked, his tone pleading. "I can't even look at you, baby. I can't even smell you without hating myself even more."

"Good," you whispered as your gaze settled on his lips. "Where's Meredith?" you asked maliciously. "I haven't seen her all day."

He knew now that you and Nat had spoken. You knew he lied to you last weekend. "She's not coming, and you know it."

"Why did you lie to me about her?"

He swallowed hard. "Princess, I'm so sorry, I-"

"Why? I don't understand! And why do you suddenly care about me today? You told me I'm not right for you. You told me you needed someone better. You said you didn't want this." You gestured to yourself and looked away from him like you were ashamed.

Bradley gently guided your chin with his fingers until you were looking at him again. "I fucking lied about that, too. You're the only thing I want." He eased himself closer to you, desperate to feel your body against his.

You narrowed your eyes at him and pushed on his chest. "You can't keep doing this to me. Leave me alone, Bradley. I don't have time to mess around with you. I know how much you hated doing that with me."

"We weren't just messing around, Princess," he said softly as he backed away from you. He was silently begging you not to open the door and leave him as he swallowed hard. "It meant something to me."

Your eyes fluttered closed as you tilted your head back against the door. He watched your fingers grab at the hem of your dress as you looked at him reluctantly. "Bradley," you whispered. "It meant something to me, too." The anger was gone from your eyes now as you asked him, "Why did you try to hurt me like that on purpose? If you want me, why would you do that?"

"I'm just trying to protect you." He knew he was pleading, and he knew you deserved to hear everything. You also deserved a hell of a lot more than he could give you, and he didn't want to have an hour-long conversation with you in his bathroom during Noah's birthday party. 

"Protect me?" you asked softly.

"Yeah. I just want to protect you," he whispered, running his fingers along your bandaged arm. "Will you let me touch you, Princess?"

You reached for his hand, and Bradley let you take the lead. When you linked your fingers through his and gave a little tug, he went willingly. You pulled him close until you and he were breathing the same air, and he could feel your body heat.

"Protect me from what?" you asked softly, and Bradley had to brace his other hand on the door next to your head as you kissed the edge of his lips softly. "I don't need you to protect me. I need you to appreciate me. Show me some respect. I'm not stupid."

His heart was pounding at the feel of your lips on his skin. "I know you're not stupid, baby. I'm the one who can't get his shit straight. Not you. I'll tell you everything," he promised, panting slightly. "I swear. Just stay. After everyone else leaves, please stay. Let me explain? Let me be good to you?"

Your eyes were alert, examining his face, trying to make sense of everything. When your tongue darted out to wet your lips, you said, "Okay. I'll stay. But you only get one chance, Bradley." 

"I won't fuck it up. I promise. I've missed you so much."

This time you kissed him square on the lips, pulling him closer still by your linked fingers. The soft fabric of your dress was rubbing along his hand, and he knew he would give you anything you wanted. But he had to know, so he released your lips.

"Baby, what the hell were you doing with Jake?"

You paused before saying, "Just talking." 

Bradley shook his head at you. "No. Your lips don't need to be touching his if you're just talking." 

You sucked in a breath as he brought your hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to each finger. "He kissed me," you whispered. "He called me Princess."

"No," Bradley grunted. "I call you Princess. And he doesn't get to kiss you. Especially not in my house. Tell me I'm better."

Your eyes flashed with sudden need. "You're jealous."

He nodded and kissed your pinky. "You're goddamn right I'm fucking jealous." The softest smirk touched your lips before Bradley leaned in and kissed you. "Am I better than Jake?"

You were smiling now, your eyes wide. "I can't believe you're jealous over me."

Bradley growled. "Am I better?"

"You're better, Bradley."

He covered your lips with his while you rubbed your hand gently along his abs.

"You're such a good girl. Too good for Jake."

"Bradley!" you moaned as he kissed you again. He couldn't keep his lips off you now. This was all he wanted to do. Just kiss you. But he needed to get out of the bathroom before he did something stupid again.

"I know, baby," he whispered against your cheek. "We're gonna talk later. Let's go back out there. And you can tell Jake that you're not interested in him."

You laughed softly. "You want me to go tell him that I'm not interested in him? Because you're jealous?"

Bradley just nodded again. "You go tell him, Princess. Now. And then later on we can talk more."

"Okay, fine," you whispered smugly, and Bradley opened the bathroom door. He watched you walk on slightly unsteady legs as you made your way toward Jake in the living room. Every couple seconds, you smirked back over your shoulder, and Bradley silently urged you on. 

Jake eyed you up and down and then met Bradley's eyes as you spoke to him. He looked annoyed now. Bradley felt elated. 

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

Bradley was jealous! He had lied to you about everything, and now he was jealous that you were giving Jake attention. This day was turning out so much better than you thought it was going to.

You took a deep breath, looked at Jake and said, "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression earlier, but I'm not interested in you. Not like that."

"Huh," Jake grunted. "Well, I can't say I'm not disappointed, Princess."

It sounded so wrong, hearing that nickname from anyone other than Bradley and Noah. "Please, don't call me that."

Jake's smirk, which was kind of cute an hour ago, was grating on your nerves now. You wanted Bradley to haul you back to the bathroom again, or better yet, his bed. His handsome face was all you could think about as you caught sight of him out of the corner of your eye. 

"You know, Bradshaw's alright," Jake drawled, and you turned back to him. "Just the slowest one to make his move on a girl. Don't wait around on him if you want more. He has more baggage weighing him down than anyone I've ever-"

You immediately cut him off. "Don't talk about Noah like that."

"Whoa," he said, chuckling and holding his hands up in surrender. "That's not what I meant. I mean the emotional kind. He's been through a lot. It slows him down, makes him hesitate. That's all I'm saying."

"Well thank you for your concern," you replied sarcastically. "But I think they are both worth the wait." You turned toward Bradley where he was talking to one of the daycare moms, and when you walked past him, you let your fingers trail along his lower back. He turned, and the look he gave you almost made your steps falter as you made your way into the kitchen.

If Bradley and Meredith weren't trying to work things out, if there was another reason why he tried to break things off with you, then you'd figure things out with him. And you wouldn't rush him. Because he couldn't stay away from you, and you couldn't stay away from him either. And you didn't want to have to try to fight it.

"Help me get the cake ready?" Nat asked when she saw you. 

"Sure," you replied, opening up disposable plates and getting four candles ready for Noah. You had to keep biting your lip at the memory of kissing Bradley in the bathroom. You were distracted, and Nat must have asked you something. 

"I'm sorry, what?"

She just shook her head. "I know Bradley is an idiot, but please, give him another chance. And you should stay away from Jake."

Had everyone seen him kiss you before? "I wasn't trying to-"

"When Bradley settles down, it will be for life. Meredith definitely stunted his ability to commit, but that fact still remains. Jake's got a different method, if you know what I'm saying. Not one to commit to a hairstyle, let alone a woman. So don't listen to him. Now, can you carry the birthday cake out to the living room?"

You just nodded slowly at her words and took the cake to Noah while Nat lit the candles. The room was full of people, and there were so many voices singing to Noah while Bradley stood next to you with his son in his arms. But it felt like just the three of you. Just like all the other times in Bradley's living room and kitchen. His deep voice warmed you everywhere as his fingers stroked up your spine when Noah blew out the candles. 

"Did you make a wish?" you asked, and Noah's exaggerated nodding made you laugh. "I'm sure it will come true."

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

Bradley kept glancing your way as you and Noah opened up one of his new toys to play with on the living room couch. You liked his eyes on you. You liked his attention. You liked knowing he was jealous earlier. 

"You want me to make you some coffee, Princess?" he asked, popping back into the living room as you and Noah raced cars across the floor. 

"No, we're busy," you told him with a smirk, looking up at him. "Aren't you supposed to be cleaning up with Nat and Penny?"

He took a step closer and said, "I just want to make sure you're not leaving yet?"

You shook your head. "You asked me to stay. I told you I'll stay."

Bradley grunted and went back into the kitchen, and a few minutes later, Penny and Pete came out. "You ready to go, kiddo?" Penny asked Noah. "You're coming with us for a sleepover." Noah looked up at her from his spot on your lap before he turned around to wrap his arms around your neck. 

"That sounds like fun, Noah!" you told him, giving him a squeeze back. You were going to miss him so much. You'd already been missing him like crazy after just a week without him. Hopefully Bradley would help you make sense of things, because you didn't want to have to keep missing him or his son. 

Noah gave you a kiss, and then Bradley handed Penny an overnight bag and scooped Noah up in a hug. "I love you. Be good for Penny and Mav." And then they were gone, and Bradley was looking at you on the floor in front of him.

Nat poked her head out of the kitchen as Bradley reached down to help you up with hopeful eyes. "How do you want me to wrap up the rest of this cake?" she asked, holding up a roll of aluminum foil. Then she looked between the two of you, and you stepped away from Bradley as she asked, "Wait, it's just the three of us left? Wrap up the cake yourself," she said, tossing the roll to Bradley and grabbing her bag. "Bye."

You watched Nat breeze out the front door without a backward glance. "What was that all about?" you asked, suddenly very aware that you were now alone with him.

He laughed softly. "She wants me to finish talking to you. Now, apparently."

"Well then, talk," you said, taking another step away from him toward the kitchen. "And don't make me cry again. If you do, I'm leaving."

He looked a little panicked, which made you feel like you were completely in control of things for once. He followed you cautiously as you went to investigate how much of the cake was left. Just when you turned toward him to reach for the roll of foil, Bradley set it on the counter and shook his head. 

"I can take care of that later, Princess," he mumbled, caging you in against the counter and kissing you softly. 

You moaned and reached for him immediately, kissing him back, he was still so sweet, and even less demanding than he had been in the bathroom. But then you jerked back, bracing your hands on his forearms. 

"What's going on, Bradley? You're still all over the place. Tell me everything," you demanded, your volume rising with each sentence as he looked abashed. "Nat spilled the beans about Meredith. Then you told me you lied to me. You got jealous about Jake. But you sent me away in tears a week ago. Just...what the fuck?"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should have never said those things to you last weekend. I didn't mean a single word of it. I was just trying to protect you."

"You keep saying that!" you complained, pushing on his forearms until he let you move away from him. "But you're not saying anything at all." You ran your fingers along your bandaged arm. "And I already got hurt."

"Princess." Bradley followed you across the kitchen to the table, but you pushed on his chest and shook your head. 

"Do not make me regret staying here right now," you whispered, and he took a deep breath. "Don't make me regret kissing you in the bathroom."

He stood up straight and ran his hands through his hair. His lips looked pouty and kissable. His cheeks were flushed like they had been earlier. But you were going to stand your ground with him.

When he didn't say anything, you pressed harder. "Talk to me." You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed and looked at you intently, but he still said nothing. "I'm leaving."

"No!" gasped, reaching for you again, pulling you closer. You were going to protest again, but then he whispered, "I need you."

"For what, Bradley?"

His voice sounded soft, almost defeated as he told you, "Meredith wants custody of Noah."

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

Come on, jealous Daddy! Tell Princess everything! Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 16

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[kingkunigami]

This is entirely Ari and Jaspers fault. I’m actually insane for this man.

Pairing: Oliver Aiku x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, cunnilingus.

There’s something about the way Oliver Aiku’s stubble tickles your ear when he leans down to whisper against it that has your cunt throbbing with desire. It’s the salaicious implication behind it as his warm breath fans against your skin and you feel him pressed against your hip, a subtle indication that he might actually be good at it.

But he’s pathetic really, especially paired with the sheer audacity he holds that thought he could get away with asking you such a crude question. It’s enough having to deal with him on and off the pitch as one of the team administrators, but this? You weren’t drunk enough for this—

“Do you wanna suck my cock?”

It had been the last thing you’d expected to hear when he’d pressed his lips to your ear, and you should’ve walked away at that alone. There were more than enough men in this dirty dive bar that would at least have better small talk at bare fucking minimum.

“No.” You scrunched your nose in irritation, already intent on walking away.

“Aw come on,” He grins, taking a sip of his beer, “Don’t be like that, sweetheart.”

The pet name should’ve been his second strike, so why were you still here?

“I’m not your sweetheart,” You shot him a smile back, full of faux sincerity.

“But you could be,” He grinned.

“Nah, I don’t think I could.”

“You always act like you hate me.” He pouts, and you have to stop your heart from squeezing at how adorable he looks— you have to stay strong.

“Yeah, it’s an act.” You reply sarcastically, rolling your eyes as you down the rest of your drink.

That’s why you hate yourself for where you are now, legs spread while Oliver looks at you like the cat that got the cream. Licking his lips as he peels your sticky panties to the side, eyes sparkling in delight as he notices the wet patch that stains the fabric.

“Knew you were lying,” He scoffs, “Were you this wet when you were talking to me, huh?”

“Shut up,” You sneer, scrunching your nose in frustration.

“That’s not very nice, is it?” He presses a wet, sloppy kiss to your inner thigh.

And the moment you feel the rough stubble graze your thighs, it’s game over. Legs lock around his head to cage him in, chasing the sensation as you shamelessly wiggle your inner thighs against the side of his face.

“I haven’t even touched you yet, sweetheart.” He grins, large palms dipping into the plush of your thighs as he prizes them open like a cherished gift.

He licks his lips in anticipation as he ogles your sex, revealing just how wet and ready you are for him— strings of your slick glisten against you invitingly and it only boosts his ego knowing that it’s all for him.

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever seen.” He speaks, and you’re unsure whether it’s to you or him, but it doesn’t stop your clit from pulsing in response. The swollen nub desperate for attention as you writhe beneath his grip, Oliver’s warm breath that fans against it not nearly enough as you feel pleas sitting on the tip of your tongue.

But you’re determined not to stoop so low, to give his ego even more of a boost. He’s shameless enough as it is, with the cocky curl of his lip as he deliberately hovers inches from your slit.

“At least this pussy’s fucking honest,” He chuckles, “Look how much she wants me.” And it’s enough to have you weaving a hand through his messy mop of hair as your nails drag against his scalp. Twisting at the root to hold him steady as you buck your hips, pushing his face into your eager cunt.

His lips smash against your clit, giving it some needed relief as you whine in satisfaction. Your body convulsing as your eyes roll back into your skull, pleasure shoots through your veins like he’s an addictive drug and you’re certain you won’t recover.

But it’s the way his rough stubble grazes the sensitive skin that has you crumbling, your toes curl as you turn into the needy, desperate slut he’d said you were—

“Fuck,” He groans, muffled by your cunt as he slurps and guzzles your slick like he’s picked the ripest peach, “You’re such a mess.”

It’s debauched, and borderline depraved as you feel a mixture of his spit and your slick drool between the curve of your ass. Slurping it into his mouth before spitting it back down against your messy slit, positive there’s a puddle beneath you as Oliver continues to ruin you.

You’re certain you won’t survive— the flat of his tongue swipes from your tight rim as he works the length of you, all the way to the top as you feel the rough stubble on his chin tickle your clit. Oliver repeats the motion, as though he knows it’s exactly what you want. And perhaps it is— the sensation has you crying out for him as you shamelessly fuck his face. Chasing the sensation of his beard against your slit as you let the friction catch your clit, feeling the familiar throb swirl in your abdomen as you feel yourself teetering on the edge of bliss.

And he knows from the telltale way your thighs begin to shudder and your hole begins to pulse as he weaves a hand around your thighs to press down on your pelvis. Increasing the pressure and pulling the hood of your clit back as he nuzzles your cunt, bristling against you as you find yourself crying out for him. Reduced to a pathetic, debauched mess as he stares up at you from between your clenching thighs.

Oliver works you through your climax, his tongue prods your leaking hole greedily after as though to taste his victory. Pressing a final, lingering kiss to your over sensitive clit as he pulls back with a cocky grin. The mess of your climax now threaded through the fuzz on his chin as he shamelessly wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Still gonna act like you hate me, sweetheart?”

[chvoswxtch]

i had an idea for matt but idk if it was good but reader who is matt’s neighbor and she always drops stuff off for him like a new first aid kit and food because she knows he’s daredevil and matt has no idea who does it till he catches her one day

like super fluffy

hi nonnie!

I actually LOVED this idea and thought it was super cute, so thank you so much for requesting it! 💘

warning: slight angst, cavity inducing fluff word count: 2.7k

[part two]

care packages

The first time it happened, Matt hadn’t thought much of it. He simply thought he’d placed an order that he had forgotten about, tossed the package containing a first aid kit and other items into his bathroom, and called it a day. Ever since taking down Fisk, the caseload at Nelson and Murdock had nearly quadrupled, and all the remaining crime lords in Hell’s Kitchen were competing for the vacant throne. Needless to say, Matt hadn’t been sleeping more than usual, and if you asked him what day it was, he probably couldn’t even tell you.

But then it happened again. And again. And again. And again.

Every couple of weeks, a new package arrived at Matt’s door, and the contents varied with each box. Some of them contained first aid kits, bottles of ibuprofen, other over the counter medications, ice packs, epsom salts, and various other supplies. Other times there were carefully packaged homemade dishes and freshly baked treats. Foggy and Karen both swore it wasn’t them, and even inspected the packages on Matt’s behalf. There wasn’t ever a note left, or anything written on the boxes, so none of them could figure out where they were coming from. Foggy lit up like a child on Christmas morning every time Matt entered the office with a new batch of goodies, and Matt couldn’t deny how nice it was to have a break from all the takeout. Whoever was leaving the packages was an excellent cook, and an incredibly skilled baker, but not knowing who was leaving the packages or why was driving Matt absolutely insane. 

Between both of his hectic lives, he didn’t have much time to investigate where the packages were coming from. He had asked his neighbors on a whim if they had seen anything, but they didn’t have a clue either. On the rare occasion when Matt did have an off day, he camped out on his couch in anticipation, hoping the next care package would arrive while he was home. 

But it never did. 

Karen had suggested leaving his business card taped to his front door, making the argument that it had his name and phone number on it in case whoever it was felt brave enough to contact him. But Matt was hesitant, because he wasn’t sure if the person leaving the care packages was leaving them for him, or for the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, and the latter made him nervous. He had no idea if they had made the connection, and he didn’t want to make it for them. 

For two months, Matt drove himself completely crazy trying to solve the mystery. 

By some miracle, or the grace of God, Matt was home at a normal time one Thursday evening. He was in the kitchen loosening his tie and reaching for a beer in the fridge when he smelled it. A familiar scent of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies that had been infused with cinnamon and nutmeg. The exact same chocolate chip cookies that had been left in front of his door four times in the past two months. The ones Foggy had dubbed, “crack cookies”. They were, in his defense, highly addictive.

Matt instantly froze, focusing solely on the sound of light footsteps approaching his door from the side of the hallway by the stairwell. The person’s heartbeat was steady, and they were humming softly to themselves as they bent down to place the package directly in front of Matt’s door. Matt abruptly slammed his fridge shut, racing towards his front door to fling it open like a madman, nearly tearing it off the hinges in the process and earning a shocked gasp from you as you were still knelt in front of his door.

He cocked his head to the side slightly, noting the sharp uptick in rhythm of your heart rate as you stared wide eyed up at him, fingers gripping tightly onto the sides of the container. For a moment, neither of you said anything, until the scent of cortisol creeping into your bloodstream snapped Matt back into focus.

“Are…are you the person that’s been leaving these?”

Letting out a shaky breath, you swallowed thickly as you gave a slight nod of your head.

“I…um…yeah.”

Your voice was timid and quiet as it came out, and there was something familiar about it. There was also something incredibly familiar about your scent, but Matt couldn’t quite place it. Your heart was thundering loudly in Matt’s ears, and he could hear the anxiety in every shuddering breath you took in. As his tongue darted out to quickly wet his lips, he slowly extended his hand out towards you.

“Do you…will you come in?”

Glancing between Matt’s outstretched hand and the dish in your own, you stared up at him silently for a moment. It suddenly occurred to him that his reaction might have made you more tense than the fact that you had been caught, and he pulled his lips into a gentle half smile.

“I’m not upset. I just…want to talk to you, if that’s alright?”

His words seem to put you at ease, and you carefully placed your hand into his own, allowing him to pull you up to your feet. Matt liked how soft your hand felt in his own, and he reluctantly let go to step back to grant you space, gesturing for you to come inside. After closing his door, he followed you cautiously into his living room, tuning all of his senses into you as you turned around to face him while still clutching the dish in your hands. There was something recognizable about you, but Matt for the life of him couldn’t place what it was.

“Um…I guess the obvious first question is…why you’re leaving all these care packages?”

Matt kept his voice even and gentle, not wanting you for a second to think that he was upset. As far as he could tell, you were leaving them with genuine intentions, and while that warmed his heart, he still wanted to know why. He caught the way you trapped your bottom lip between your teeth and tilted your head to stare down at the dish in your hands, taking in a deep, shaky breath before answering.

“Because you saved my life.”

Matt’s lips parted slightly in surprise, cocking his head to the side slightly as he took a step closer towards you and fixed his gaze in your direction with an expression of confusion. 

“I…I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ve represented you-”

“You were wearing a different suit.”

Matt’s entire body instantly went rigid. You did know who he was. Panic started to rise in his chest, and his brain wasn’t working fast enough to come up with some kind of lie or excuse to protect his identity.

“I…I don’t…I t-think you must have me confused with someone else-”

“Those men didn’t just want to rob me. They wanted to hurt me. They followed me home from that bar and pulled me into that alley. If you…hadn’t shown up when you did, they probably would’ve killed me, or left me there after they did what they really wanted to. I…I’m honestly not sure which would’ve been worse.”

Matt stilled hearing the way your voice trembled, tasting the fear that built in the corners of your eyes as the memory sent a shiver cascading down your spine. Suddenly it all clicked into place. That’s why he remembered you. He recognized your voice because he remembered hearing your frenzied cries for help from the rooftop. He recalled the scent of you lingering beneath his nose while he held you comfortingly to his chest as you gripped onto his shoulders, begging him not to leave you alone in the dark. After taking care of the men that had attacked you, he’d waited with you until the cops came, doing his best to keep you calm and reassuring you that you were safe. 

Your name tumbled from his lips before he could stop himself.

“Y/N.”

He remembers asking for it that night. He remembers repeating it back to you soothingly, enjoying the way it tasted on his tongue while wiping your tears away with his gloved fingers. He remembers the sweet melody of your voice as you thanked him endlessly, and the way you struggled to let go of his hand once the police arrived and he had to disappear into the darkness.

He noted the way your lips tugged into the faintest of smiles as you nodded.

“You remembered.”

Matt had wanted to find you, as himself, to offer you legal representation if you wanted to build a case. But with things being so hectic lately, he never got the chance. Another wave of confusion settled over his features when he took another step forward towards you. 

“Wait, but how did you-”

“I live in this building. I saw you on the roof about a week later.”

Matt’s lips parted slightly at your words, giving a slight nod of his head to encourage you to continue. 

“I was up there kinda late one night. There was a lunar eclipse that was supposed to be visible at a certain time, and I wanted to see it. I saw you. You disappeared through that door on the roof, and I thought it just went to a stairwell, but none of the stairwells I found led to that same door. I kinda put it together that it only led to your apartment…and it wasn’t that hard to figure out which one was yours from there.”

“So…you didn’t…know that I was-”

“No. I didn’t know who you were, not really. I never saw you again after that. I just…you looked like you were hurt that night. I wanted to do something…something to help you. I felt like I owed you.”

Matt pursed his lips as he shook his head quickly, letting a dry chuckle escape his mouth.

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“I owe you my life.”

Matt paused at the sincerity in your voice, noticing that it came out a lot firmer as you spoke those words. His fingers twitched slightly at his sides as you let out a soft sigh, turning around to place the dish of cookies on his coffee table.

“Look, I’m sorry if I…I freaked you out or anything. I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to do something nice for you since you saved me. I figured you probably go through a lot of first aid kits and don’t have much time to cook with your busy night job.”

Matt chuckled softly as a light smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, placing his hands on his hips as he followed your movements.

“That’s an understatement. Can I…can I ask…why you didn’t say anything? I mean, you never knock or leave a note or anything.”

Nibbling at your bottom lip, you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and shrugged lightly as you fiddled with a ring around your finger.

“I told you, I didn’t wanna freak you out. I’m sure you wear the mask for a reason. I…wanted to respect your privacy. Look, you don’t owe me anything, certainly not an explanation. You don’t have to tell me anything at all, and I would never tell anyone about this, I swear.”

The steady, strong rhythm of your heartbeat had Matt’s chest swelling with gratitude. He knew you were telling the truth. 

“I believe you.”

There was a faint smile pulling at your lips as you stared at him, and Matt desperately wanted to know what you saw, and what you were thinking. He didn’t think it was a coincidence someone like you had fallen into his lap. He didn’t believe in coincidences. But he did believe in divine intervention. What were the odds of him saving your life, being your neighbor, and the recipient of your unwavering kindness and genuine understanding? 

“I…I’m not a doctor, or a medical professional by any means, but I do know my way around a first aid kit. I’m also a horrible insomniac, so I’m usually awake at ungodly hours throughout the night. If you ever…need…or want any help, I just live a floor down. I’m in 5C.”

“I…thank you. And thank you for all of the care packages.”

“Thank you for saving my life.”

Matt felt his cheeks heat up at the candor in your voice. He didn’t get thanked often for what he did every night, not that the praise was his main motivator, but they were still two words he didn’t hear all that much. The people he took down certainly weren’t thanking him for sending them to prison, and sometimes the people he saved were in too much shock to speak, or he had to take off before he got caught by the cops. But something about the way the gentle inflection of your voice dripped into his ears like honey had warmth spreading throughout his entire body. He took another careful step towards you, extending his hand once again for you to take as his lips parted into a tender smile.

“Matthew. My name is Matthew.”

His heart started to beat a little faster feeling the way your mouth pulled into a smile of your own, reveling in the feeling of your soft hand slipping into his once again, fingers delicately curling around the bottom of his palm.

“It’s nice to meet you, Matthew. Officially.”

Matt keened at the way his name sounded falling from your lips, and he gave your hand a faint squeeze.

“It’s nice to meet you officially as well, Y/N.”

He didn’t miss the way your heart jumped slightly when he repeated your name, or the fact that neither one of you seemed to want to let go of the other’s hand.

“You know, my partner is going to be beyond excited that I’ve finally found the person responsible for those amazing cookies.”

Matt’s chest expanded with pride feeling the rise in temperature across your cheeks, lips parting slightly as your soft giggle hit his ears.

“Nice of you to share, Matthew.”

A wider smile tugged across his lips hearing you say his name again. He lightly stroked his thumb across your knuckle as he shrugged.

“I thought at first one of them was doing it, but neither of them are as good of a cook or a baker. You’re a hit in our office, by the way.”

“I am?”

“They ask me everyday if I’ve gotten a new care package. Obviously the edible ones are their favorite.”

Another soft giggle slipped past your stretched lips, and Matt found himself inching closer to the sound as heat spread down your neck and across your chest.

“They…they know, too?”

“They do.”

“Well, then they’re just as deserving.”

Matt found himself completely in awe of you, wondering how he had managed to find an angel when he walked the path of the Devil. 

“Can I…can I take you to dinner? To say thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me-”

“I want to. You’ve provided me with a ton of dinners lately. I’d like to treat you to one.”

Matt angled his head to the side slightly as he listened to your heart’s tempo increase, enjoying the way you delicately tightened your hold on his hand as you took in a shaky breath.

“Well, how can I refuse my savior?”

“You can’t. It’s against the law actually.”

A large grin spread across your mouth at Matt’s playful tone, peering up at him with curiosity.

“Are you a lawyer, Matthew?”

“I am.”

An incredulous giggle escaped your mouth as your brows knit together in the center of your forehead.

“So, wait…lawyer by day, vigilante by night? How does that work, exactly?”

“I’ll let you know when I figure that out.”

Matt chuckled softly as you giggled, resisting the urge to reach his hand up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear like he had done the first night he met you. 

“So, Friday night?”

“You know where to find me.”

“I do, now.”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042