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medusaesque · 3 months ago

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Kim Kitsuragi and the pale-

Kim has a unique relationship to the pale, I tried dissecting it and making sense of it. Reposting with more thoughts after some good conversations with @binomech.

Warning- it's insanely long.

1. After life, death

One of the first thing you can learn about Kim is that he would hurl himself in death's way to save you. From the very first moment, Kim is related to sacrifice and death, it follows him wherever he goes-

The slaughterhouse.

He lost his parents at two years old. He worked a year in Processing (here's good post about that by @renmorris and @spilledkaleidoscope). He lost his partner, Eyes. People have taken a bullet that was meant for his more than once. His survivor's guilt is insane. He's killed six people. He's afraid of killing recklessly, and has a deeply unhealthy relationship with his gun (made another embarrassingly long post about that).

Kim also hears pale 'ghosts' on the police radio all the time, talks about it like it's normal, and says he doesn't believe in ghosts.

If harry is with Noid during the Moralist dream quest (more on it later), Harry can even wonder if Kim himself is a ghost, prompting this beautiful exchange-

And he's not entirely wrong. When Harry gets shot, after Kim fulfills Espirit's promise and stands in death's way for him, you can ask as you fall into darkness what will happen to you-

It's the living who are ghosts. You can leave them behind and rest. Go into the wild pale yonder, along with everyone else Kim has ever cared about. Or at least you can try to.

When death is at the door, you have two options-

2. After death, life again

Kim might associate himself with death, but Harry associates him with life again and again- Death is darkness, Kim has a light bulb halo. Death is a sunset, Kim is a sunrise. Death is where you are when the game start, it's ready to take you, and then- a clarion call, the sound of a motor carriage, a detective arriving on the scene, and you open your eyes.

Of course Kim is no actual saint, no guardian angel, but it's really telling that even in harry's deification the symbols of Kim's holiness are worldly, almost mundane, the matters of every day life- a celling's fan lightbulb, the engine of a car..

Or the way @binomech said it when discussing Kim's portrait: this is the only thing keeping you from the full brunt of the world in your mind #but truly you are already in the world #and he is just a man #and that's just a car and that's just a ceiling fan

The game is very clear about Harry being a ceaseless agent of the world, but he's not the only one. Harry stands at death's door twice, and Kim is his way back to the world both times.

3. After the world, the pale

So what is Kim's relationship with the pale?

As casual as he might try to appear, Kim is clearly uncomfortable with the pale, afraid of it even. When Harry brings up the pale, he intervenes, genuinely worried for the fragile stability of his mind, trying to protect him-

It's no more terrifying than water or death or that we're stuck behind our eyes for all eternity?? Sounds pretty terrifying Kim...

I think the key is in the moralist vision quest, When Harry attempts to reach the Committee of Responsibility, and he hears the pale crosstalk coming through the radio, when suddenly-

"Pale is a shroud of memories and it doesn't really distinguish to whom those memories belong to. You could hear anything." You could hear anything, but you hear Kim. Soona even says that the odds of us hearing him, out of all the voices in the pale, are astronomically low.

We know the past has not been harmless to Kim, we know it's full of ghosts and cold winters, but that's not the thing that's eating at him-

Kim is afraid of forgetting. He's constantly writing, he thinks through his notebook, always recording, so he wouldn't lose anything. That's why the pale is so terrifying to him.

4. After the pale. the world again

The world is what it is. God is in his heaven. Everything is normal on Earth.

That leads me to the expeditions through the pale-

Volta do Mar is a skill unique to Kim, according to the stats of this pilot jackets, and it's a Physique skill.

It's driving me crazy to think how Kim wanted to be revolutionary pilot as a kid, and is walking around dressed like a pilot as an adult, to give himself the ability to navigate the pale. To return from the sea-

DISTANT ENEMY OF HIMSELF?? kim....

Seeing how Volta do Mar is strengthened by his jackets, and the items' descriptions point out that most of the people who used to wear this jacket are long gone (alongside what they represented) and considering that the only real advance in pale transit is the speed with which an aerostatic craft can pierce it, is seems fitting that returning from the 'sea' requires the kind of armor that ghosts wear- the ghost of who you wanted to be but never could, of a home that was never yours. Glory to them.

@binomech said it best in this conversation we had about Kim's skills: "your traitorous race. your traitorous job. your traitorous parents. your traitorous senses. distant enemy of yourself: seolite, communist, cripple, faggot. and you wear it as armor"

Kim is equipped for Volta do Mar, he armors himself for it every day, for the thing that makes it possible to return sane, and discover a new world-

This is one of the most touching Kim moments in the game to me- putting his hand in the rain, looking up to the sky, mouth open, welcoming the spring rain, even knowing it'll bring death and destruction with it. He is devoted to this world and the role he has to play in it, or at least the role he thinks he has to play-

But we know Kim has a bigger role to play, he's trying to do his part right there, getting Harry to stay-

His connection to Harry can keep him on this world once again- keeping the two of them together. Their real work is down here, him and Harry are Revachol's only hope. If they stick together they might be able to keep her on this earth.

UNITY AMONG THE RANKS IS PARAMOUNT.

I NEED YOU. YOU CAN KEEP ME ON THIS EARTH. BE VIGILANT.

I LOVE YOU.

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #disco elysium meta #kimharry #sort of #de meta #de analysis #going crazy going stupid. kim is so important guys.. if only he knew #🏺#juha.txt

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cressidagrey · 19 days ago

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It's a Love Story - Chapter 3

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

The shadows unceremoniously dumped a whole stack of Sellyn Drake Novels on Azriel’s desk.

Azriel eyed the stack of novels dubiously, wondering how in the Mother's blessed name the Shadows had gotten their hands on these. Or why.

But they stayed silent, clearly waiting for him to outright demand an answer. *Why?* he asked with a long suffering sigh. *What's this about?*

No response.

Azriel reached for one of the books, pulling it off the top of the stack and flipping it over. And immediately he regretted that decision. The cover was…certainly something.

A shirtless man holding a rather skimpily dressed woman up against a wall.

Azriel let out a long, long sigh.

*You need to read the books, Master,* the shadows told him seriously.

Azriel stared at his shadows, then at the books, then at his shadows. *You cannot possibly be serious.* What exactly was this supposed to give him?

He flipped it over, reading the synopsis.

When Lady Eleanor is forced into an unwanted marriage, she despairs—until the enigmatic Sir Tristan, a battle-scarred knight with a fearsome reputation, crashes into her life. Bound by a promise to protect her, Tristan whisks Eleanor away from her gilded prison, thrusting them into a wild escape across enemy lands.

Haunted by his past and wary of love, Tristan tries to keep Eleanor at arm's length. But as they face danger together, a fierce passion grows between them, tempting them to trust in a love that could heal even the deepest wounds.

What the fuck.

*We are, Master.* The Shadows told him, sounding as earnest as they possibly could.

He opened the book. Titled The Dark Knight’s Desire, flicking through the pages. Was this…a first edition?

*It’s important!* The shadows insisted. *You know…to brush up on these flirting skills of yours.*

Azriel shot the shadows an unamused look. *I can flirt perfectly well,* he protested.

*You most certainly cannot.* The Shadows deadpanned. *It’s research! Read them for her!*

*Read them for…* Azriel started, his voice trailing off.

*You found...* he trailed off weakly. They had found a female for him?

The shadows swirled around him almost playfully. *Of course we did,* they said innocently. *We told you we would, didn’t we?*

They were working quickly. It had only been weeks since he had agreed to let them find him a wife.

*You did,* Azriel said slowly, but his mind was working fast, so fast, trying to wrap around the idea that his Shadows were trying to help him find a wife…and more importantly, that they had found a female they thought he would find suitable.

*Where did you find her?* he asked, carefully.

*Here in Velaris!* the shadows answered brightly.

*Here?* Azriel asked, his surprise obvious. The shadows had found...a female...here in Velaris? Someone who was compatible with him? And they wanted him to read...what were these again? Sellyn Drake novels? So he would know how to best romance this female?

*Read the books, Master,* the shadows said with a sigh. So he did.

And that was how Azriel spent his next few hours. Reading a book, and blushing like some sort of adolescent boy when certain…particularly intimate scenes came around. The Shadows cackled beside him the entire time.

How the fuck did Nesta do this with a straight face?!?

Azriel had no idea, but by the Mother, he was never going to ask her. Ever. He would just die of embarrassment.

Though he needed to admit...he actually quite liked it.

The novels, that is. The…intimate scenes. Azriel liked them. A lot. Not even the...smut, like Nesta called it...no, he liked the love story. He liked the two people that came together and would do everything for each other...the falling in love part. He liked that.

But the Shadows were probably never going to let him live this down. Azriel did find comfort in a single thought, though. Whoever this possible future partner was, she was never going to know about this. There was no way in hell he would let her find out that he read smutty books to brush up his flirting skills.

But even that did not stop the nagging thought in Azriel's head, one that made him hesitate, and doubt himself, and doubt the Shadows' judgment. "What if..." he said softly, hesitantly. "What if she just...doesn't like me?"

He knew he had some...rough edges, to put it kindly. And he had his own...troubles. His own...insecurities. Some of the things he kept to himself, so many of his...issues. The shadows knew of them all, of course…There were many nights they stayed up with him, soothing him when the ghosts in his mind became a little too loud, a little too real.

What if that scared her? He didn't want her to be scared. He didn't want to scare her.

*She'll like you, Master.* The Shadows assured him, wrapping themselves around him comfortingly and soothingly. *She’ll love you.*

He exhaled. *Can you read minds now?*

*Only yours,* the Shadows assured him. *But as long as you don't cheat on her with her sister, you'll be doing a better job than her ex-partners!*

What.

"Are you seriously reading a Sellyn Drake novel?" Only 5 centuries of training kept him from flinching as he looked up to find Cassian in his doorway.

"Nesta said it was good," he shot back flatly, not hiding the book, because that would just give Cassian even more reason to tease him.

"You...actually listen to Nesta's...book recommendations?" Cassian stared at him, as if he had grown a third head.

"She is intelligent, and she reads more than either of us," Azriel shot back, sharply. "So yes, if she says it's good, I'll try it."

Cassian gave a slight shake of his head, not believing what he was hearing. "You are…actually reading a Sellyn Drake novel?" He repeated as if he couldn't quite believe that Azriel was actually doing that.

"Yes," Azriel said, his words clipped. "You have a problem with that?"

Cassian just stared at him for a long moment before letting out a quiet laugh. "No, I just never thought I would actually see the day that you read a Sellyn Drake novel."

"Well, I like it," Azriel said evenly. "It’s very are well written."

"And smutty," Cassian said with a grin.

Azriel rolled his eyes. "It’s are more than just...smut, Cassian, It actually has a story, and good characters."

"Characters who can barely keep their hands off each other long enough to solve the mystery, you mean," Cassian drawled, but Azriel ignored him, flipping a page.

."Have you ever actually read a Sellyn Drake novel, Cassian?" Azriel asked, shooting him a look. "Or do you simply judge by the covers?"

Cassian just grinned, clearly enjoying this conversation and how defensive Azriel had become. "The covers are pretty damn attractive though."

Azriel rolled his eyes at that comment, but didn't respond. Just looked back down at the book, completely ignoring his brother.

"Are you coming to dinner tonight?" Cassian asked him instead.

"No," he answered flatly. He did really want to know how the book ended.

*We found a house! We can show it to you!* the shadows hissed at that moment. Huh.

"There is something that needs my attention," Azriel said simply.

Cassian gave him a searching look, a frown etched into his face, but Azriel simple met his gaze.

"Az," Cassian said quietly. "Come on."

"I have something I need to do, Cassian." Azriel's voice was still flat, but more firm, a clear sign that he did not want any arguments.

"Az," Cassian said again, and this time, there was a small thread of pleading in his voice. "Just… come have dinner with us. Please. It'll be good for you."

Good? Good to sit at Rhys' table and be told to "behave"? Azriel would rather eat crushed glass than do that. Which was the reasons why he skipped out of them as often as he possible could.

He knew, he knew that Cassian was just looking out for him, but that didn't mean that he felt like he was obligated to go.

"I have something I need to do," he repeated, his voice even.

Cassian sighed. "You are so goddamn stubborn," he muttered, but he let the subject drop, clearly knowing that Azriel was not going to listen.

That evening, instead of sitting through that dinner, Azriel let the shadows swirl around him in excitement, tugging on his jacket, practically dragging him forward.

*It's a lovely house, Master!* they said as they wrapped him in their embrace.

He blinked twice as he rematerialised in front of a lake. Somehow not quite what he had expected. But then…then he saw the house.

Grey stone and wood and the biggest windows he had ever seen that promised an breathtaking view over the lake… and nobody around as far as he could see. He stared at the house, a brow raised. It was nice…very nice. A little too nice. Exactly too his taste.

Azriel turned towards the shadows as he raised another brow. *And how exactly did you…* he started with a huff. *You know what, nevermind.*

He could already hear the shadows saying that they asked for a favor in exchange. Or maybe they stole it.

The house was still nice though, perfect really. He just…didn't want to know what they had done to get it.

Azriel glanced towards the building again. He could almost picture himself in the space, walking around, just….simply existing. It was peaceful and quiet…and he would not be…disturbed or bothered.

He could see himself reading in front of the fireplace, looking out into the night sky through the large windows.

Azriel walked towards the building, his fingers brushing over the wall. He could feel it already….he could already feel his muscles loosening, his shoulders lowering from their stiff position.

Home, he thought as stepped into the space, the shadows following after him as his lips tugged upwards.

Yes, he could already see himself calling it that. Home. He liked the ring of it.

*You're welcome, Master,* the shadows said as they swirled around him, nuzzling him affectionately. They were happy for him, so very happy for him.

The living room was spacious, filled with overstuffed couches and armchairs made for wings… the view indeed was spectacular. And one long uninterrupted wall was lined with tall, massive bookshelves.

It was perfect.

*Does she like books?* he couldn't help but ask.

*Yes, Master! She loves books!* The Shadows assured him in an excited chorus.

She liked to read. That was the first little tidbit of information he learned about her.

*Will you tell me something else about her?* he asked them softly, as he kept exploring the house.

*What do you want to know?* the shadows asked.

*Did her ex-partner really cheat on her with her sister?* he wondered aloud.

*Yes. They are engaged to be married now,* the shadows answered. *He's an asshole,* they muttered darkly.

Azriel couldn't help but give a nod in agreement. An ass was too kind. Whoever he was, he was more than that. Azriel hated him, whoever he was.

*Anything else?* he asked the shadows, curious, so damn curious, to know more about the female.

*She has a cat. His name is Hector. He may be the ugliest cat in existence,* the shadows said primly, *but she adores him.*

Not what he expected, but it was...sweet. It was kind. She had a pet cat. His lips tugged upwards into an involuntary smile.

*And...?* he trailed off, waiting for a response. He was greedy, so damn greedy for more, so greedy to get to know the female more. His curiosity about her had grown to a fever pitch, it seemed.

The Shadows hummed thoughtfully. *She is very, very kind, Master,* they finally said softly.

Those words caused Azriel's smile to go soft, so damn soft. His heart fluttered at the Shadows' words. She was kind. She was kind and she had a cat that she adored. Her ex was an ass who cheated on her. She read, liked books, which meant she was intelligent, and…

Was he getting excited about someone he had never even met?

*When...when can I meet her?* he asked softly.

*Soon,* the shadows promised. *She doesn't leave the house that often...*

Azriel's brows drew together at that. *Why not?* he asked quietly, not sure if he really wanted the answer to that question.

The Shadows hesitated for a moment before responding. *People...people aren't very nice to her,* they admitted slowly.

Azriel blinked, confused. People...weren't nice to her...? But…why? What was there not to be nice about? From what he had gleaned, she was kind, had a cat, was smart, and liked books. What was wrong with any of that? It didn't make any sense.

*Why?* he demanded shaprly.*Because people are idiots as usual,* the shadows snapped right back. *People aren't nice to you either.*

Azriel gave a small wince at that, the shadows words hitting him like a bucket of ice cold water. But they were right, people weren't all the nicest to him, either.

Still...he didn't like the idea of her being treated poorly. He wanted...Gods, the want was so strong, all of a sudden. The want to…to protect her. To guard her, and protect her. To keep her safe. To make sure she was alright.

*Tell me when she leaves her house,* he demanded.

For a moment he could swear the shadows were nearly frozen in place.

*Change of Plans. Put on a different shirt,* the shadows said quickly. Azriel just stared at them.

*A different shirt?* he asked. He didn't even have any clothing here! That was back at the House of Wind. But the shadows were clearly not taking no for an answer.

He batted away a tendril as it started to unbuckle his fighting leathers and did it himself, only for them to shove him into a shirt that was so dark green it was nearly black and then start fussing with his hair.

Azriel barely had time to even process what was happening before the shadows were pushing him towards the door, still trying to fix and smooth his hair and clothes as they moved forward.

*What is the change of plan?* he asked them

*You are getting to see her right now,* the shadows said with a hint of glee to their voice. *Her sister and some friends are taking her to a bar.*

*The same sister that cheated on her with her ex-partner?* he demanded.

*Yes,* the shadows agreed in a hiss.

Great. So he was going to have to stop a fight from happening, all while trying to meet the female he apparently was connected to? That was a...recipe for disaster right there..

*She'll be at the Crystal Drop* the shadows informed him, and his heart gave a strange little clench at those words. He was...he was actually going to get to meet her. Tonight.

The feeling of excitement was back, rushing through him like a wildfire. But there was also a hint of trepidation, a hint of nervousness. What if he screwed it all up? What if he messed things up? His stomach was suddenly full of butterflies.

Azriel didn't have time to dwell on those thoughts, though, as the shadows gave him a little nudge forward again, all but forcing him to start moving towards the tavern.

He could see it in the distance, the sign proclaiming it as “Crystal Drop”. It...it was right there. She was there...

Taking a deep breath, he headed towards the bar, his heart pounding in his chest with every step that he took closer to the entrance. Gods, his hands were shaking.

He was nervous. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was

He entered the tavern, and his eyes automatically went to the crowd, searching for...something.

The shadows let him towards a place in a corner where he could view the whole bar and he ordered a single fireale, because he was not getting drunk. He wanted his wits about him when he met her.

But right now…right now, Azriel settled in to watch.

He watched the crowd, his eyes roving around, searching the whole tavern once again. He just wanted to know where the group was. He wanted to know where...she was.

*Do you see her, Master?* the shadows asked him, nearly teasingly.

*I have absolutely no clue how she looks, so how should I?* he gave back in a growl. The door opened and he watched as a group of females poured in...and then right there at the edges of that group...

His breath caught in his throat as his eyes fell on her, and...oh.

Between one blink and the next everything changed. A golden bond unfurled in his chest, connecting him to her.

Her.

He knew it.

She was his mate.

Mine. He whispered in his head, barely more than a thought. He knew it with every fiber of his being, every part of his heart.

He took her in hungrily.

She was so beautiful. So, so beautiful. Azriel had to physically restrain himself from going over to her right then and there.

He could hardly breathe. He couldn't form a coherent thought. His whole world had suddenly narrowed to the sight in front of her. His mate.

*Master?* There was alarm in the shadows voices as his breathing became near erratic.

*She's...You found my mate,* he said weakly.

The shadows hummed in confirmation and his eyes were glued to her still, drinking her in. She had long brown hair with soft curls, falling over back, bangs framing a rounded face with high cheekbones and plump cheeks...full rosy lips too and adorable freckles dotting over her nose...

She was the most beautiful being he had ever seen. She was simply...stunning.

And mine, he thought to himself. She was his. She was his mate.

He didn't even look at the rest of the group. Just focused on the one...the one who was at the edge of the group, seemingly trying to vanish, to become invisible.

Even from the distance, Azriel could see the tension in his mate’s form. He frowned slightly at that. He didn't like it, seeing her like that.

He...his instincts were starting to kick in, a soft, protective urge rising up in him. He wanted to go to her, to...to stand by her side and ease away whatever was bothering her. But he stayed rooted to the spot, just...just watching her. Just watching his mate, the sight of her soothing every single little part of him until he felt warm all over.

He let the group settle at a table a few feet away from him, forcing himself to look down on the bottle in front of him and not stare at his mate like a total creep.

If he strained his ears, he could hear the whole conversation. Apparently it was his mate’s sisters Hen Party, the kind of celebration that some High Fae Females had before they got married.

Nice. Why not bring along your sister, when you were engaged to the guy that cheated with you on said sister?

The fact that his mate even came along into this bar that evening was probably a sign of how fucking nice she was. And Gods...no wonder his mate was so anxious...this whole thing was just...a disaster waiting to happen.

He glanced towards the group again, his attention once again immediately falling on his mate. He could see it, the small twitch of her fingers, the tightening of her lips...the small little things, and he felt his heart wrench at the sight.

She didn't talk. She was just sitting there silently, while the other females had a raucous conversation, that she wasn't part of. It made him bristle.

He didn't understand why they were doing that, why she wasn't a part of the conversation. She was right there. But they weren't listening, they weren't noticing her...or maybe they were ignoring her on purpose.

He...he didn't like it. He didn’t like it at all.

Just minutes later, Azriel realised that he should have wished that they kept ignoring her.

Because Azriel was quite certain that he was going to slit his mate's sister's throat with Truthteller if she said one more word.

The blonde, her sister, stared at his mate and this time a sharp, nasty smile curled on her lips. "Oh, what's the matter, little sister? Mad that I nabbed the male you were going to marry?" she taunted with a malicious grin. "I guess he just liked me better."

Azriel was so shocked that he could just sit there, staring.

The other females laughed as the blonde continued, her lips curled in a sneer. "You should be happy for me, really," she said, her voice sugary sweet. "After all, you could never keep him happy. You've always been useless, haven't you?"

The comments made Azriel see red. What the hell was wrong with this female? Who treated their own sister like this?

He had half a mind to go over there and wring her neck.

*Don’t,* his shadows hissed. *You’ll make it worse.*

*Make it worse?! It can’t fucking get worse!* he hissed back.

He itched to go over to the group, to protect his mate from these cruel, cruel words.

*Yes, it can,* the shadows snapped. *What do you want to do? Massacre her sister right in front of her?!* Azriel growled under his breath.

*Normally you are much more bloodthirsty,* he complained to the shadows.

*You are the fucking spymaster. Act like it,* the shadows snapped. *You want us to make her sister’s life a misery? We’ll do it. We’ll do it and it will never be traced back to you. Besides, she deserves worse than a quick death.*

He clenched his teeth.

The other females were laughing, but his mate...wasn't. She wasn't saying a single word, wasn't defending herself, wasn't saying anything. Just...just sitting there and taking the horrible abuse with a neutral, blank expression on her face.

"Cat got your tongue?" her sister asked her with a roll of her eyes. "I mean, it's not like you're good at talking, are you?" she asked her with a cruel little laugh. "Too bad for you that males want females that are able to have a conversation, not awkward little things who can't even speak when spoken to."

Azriel's body tensed as he listened to the words, every muscle coiled tight. It took every ounce of his control not to stride over to the group of females and punch her sister straight in the face. The only thing he wanted to do in that moment was to protect his mate.

The comment clearly found it's target, Azriel could see his mate flinch at the words, her face crumbling momentarily before it smoothed over into a neutral expression again. Gods...it must've hurt so badly to hear her sister speak to her like that…

*We’ll ruin her fucking life,* he vowed to the shadows.

*Agreed, Master.”

Her sister rolled her eyes another time. "Come on, let's go," she told the other females. "You have the bill, don't you, Skylar?"

The words made Azriel snap. So the sister hadn't intended to even pay for her drinks in the first place? It was…they had just used her, he realised suddenly. Used her for the first stop on their tavern tour, to pick up the drink tab…and that was all she was good for in their eyes…

It was...Azriel couldn't stand by and watch this anymore, it made him so angry. So fucking furious.

"Ye...yes," his mate stuttered.

She looked so small in that moment, her eyes averted, her shoulders slumped, her hands trembling. She looked...wounded, so hurt, and Azriel was...he was sick of seeing her just accept this verbal abuse without a word.

They left. They should thank the cauldron that they left at that moment, because otherwise Azriel would have made Cassian at his worst look like a puppy.

He wanted to storm after them, to give every single person in the group a piece of his mind, but that could wait. The most important thing right now was his mate. She was still here, after all. Azriel took a deep breath, and slowly, almost hesitantly walked towards her.

He watched as she didn't move, and he finally decided to speak, his voice a low, soft murmur. "Mind if I sit here?" he asked, gesturing to the chair beside her.

Her head turned, and he felt his heart stop as her eyes met his for the first time. Up close, her eyes were...mesmerizing. A deep, sparkling blue, framed by long, lush eyelashes. He couldn't look away from her.

And she stared at him, her mouth slightly open, her eyes near comically wide.

He gave her a soft, slow smile. "Hi," he greeted her, his voice gentle. She blinked a few times, still staring at him, and he found it so cute, how shocked she was that he was talking to her.

Her mouth opened but no words came out. She was staring at him like a poor bunny rabbit would at an apex predator , caught in his grasp.

For just a moment her scent went utterly haywire.

Caramel and Hazelnuts. So sugary sweet that he would have gladly rolled around in it. And she just stared at him, wide eyed, silent...until suddenly the scent changed to incadescent happiness.

"Oh." A small sound escaped her as she swallowed.

And he knew. He knew at that moment that the bond had just snapped for her.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #It's a Love Story

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avvwritesstufff · 3 months ago

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HALLOWEEN~PB⁵

Summary- Reader and Paige have a friends with benefits type of situation and their friends don’t know but they find out at the campus halloween party

Warning- Eating out(r! receiving) nothing else i don’t think…

yall chill on me bc it’s my first fic

Tonight was the big campus Halloween party, and Paige and I decided to go as matching vampires. Basic, sure, but undeniably cute. We got ready together, layering on the dark makeup and fangs. Paige insisted on pouring fake blood down my arm, laughing as she did.

"You look hot as fuck," she said, grinning as she stepped back to admire her handiwork.

"Aw, thanks, Bueckers. Can't say the same about you, though," ! teased, leaning in close, just to pull away at the last second, leaving her hanging.

With a laugh, I grabbed my bag, and we headed out. We'd decided not to drive, so we hitched a ride with Yanna and Ice.

When we got to the party, it was everything we'd expected-loud, wild, and packed with our friends. We found the group and quickly got into the spirit of things, which meant getting trashed, of course.

At some point, Paige and I broke off from the others, just walking around, dancing, and vibing. It was perfect-until I noticed a girl with black hair eyeing Paige a little too intently.

"That girl keeps eye-fucking you, P," I said, my annoyance probably too obvious.

"Who? The one with the black hair?" Paige asked, glancing around.

"You spotted her that quick?" | shot back, trying to keep my jealousy under wraps.

"Oh yeah, I met her at the bar earlier. She's hot," Paige said, looking back at me with a smirk.

"Paige Madison Bueckers," | warned, grabbing her arm before she could make a move, "Walk over there, and I'll beat your ass. You're staying here with me."

"Yes, ma'am," she replied, instantly obedient, though I could see the teasing glint in her eyes.

The rest of the night, Paige kept trying to make me jealous, playing it up just to get under my skin.

Eventually, we both had enough drinks to let loose completely, and we started dancing together.

Paige's hands were wrapped around my waist as I sang along to “Dress" by Taylor Swift, each lyric dripping with intention.

"I don't want you as a best friend, only bought this dress so you could take it off," | sang, my voice low and sultry, looking directly at her.

"Is that a promise?" Paige whispered in my ear, her breath hot against my skin.

"We can make it one," | smirked, but before things could go further, Aubrey and Aaliyah's voices cut through the moment, calling for us from across the house.

Reluctantly, we made our way over, ending up on a couch that was too crowded. I ended up on Paige's lap, not that I was complaining. We were playing some game, but I wasn't interested-I was too focused on Paige, leaning against her, feeling bold and, honestly, horny as fuck.

"I need you, P," | whispered into her ear.

Her eyes widened in shock, but she didn't waste a second before excusing us from the group. I led her out of the room, barely able to keep my composure.

A bedroom in a frat house wasn't ideal, but it would have to do. As soon as the door shut behind us, Paige locked it and immediately pressed me against the wall, our lips crashing together. I wrapped my arms around her neck, pulling her closer as she lifted me by my thighs, her lips trailing down my neck.

"Fuck," I gasped, barely able to speak as she smiled against my skin, lowering me onto the bed. I quickly flipped us over, straddling her hips as I grabbed her face and kissed her again, more deeply this time.

Paige's hands found my hips, guiding me as I ground against her.

"V..." she breathed out, her voice laced with desire.

I couldn't help but smile against her lips, keeping the rhythm. "A bedroom in a frat house wasn't where I imagined this happening," I joked, even as my heart raced.

"Hmm, so you've imagined us, huh?" Paige teased, flipping me over again, moving me to the edge of the bed. She started pulling down my underwear and stockings, her eyes meeting mine for permission. When I nodded, she spread my legs, kissing up my thighs before diving in, making me gasp her name.

We were so caught up that we didn't hear the knocking at first, but it quickly became impossible to ignore. Paige and I shared a panicked look as we scrambled to make ourselves presentable.

Paige went to the door, trying to act casual, only to find Yanna and Nika on the other side.

"Yo?" Paige greeted them, clearly trying not to panic.

"Oh, hey, p," Nika said, looking relieved. "We finally found yous. We're getting ready to go."

"Yeah, alright," Paige said, smiling as I stepped into view.

"Hey, guys!" | added, trying to sound normal despite everything.

"Someone's in a good mood," Yanna said with a knowing smile as she looked at me. I just smiled back as Paige wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close.

"Well, we're heading back. Are you coming?" Nika asked, trying not to overreact in the moment.

"Yeah," Paige replied, and we followed them out.

Once outside, Nika went to ride with Aubrey, Azzi, Caroline, and Amari, all heading to our dorm.

That left me, Paige, Aaliyah, Ice, and Yanna in Yanna’s car.

The car ride was quick and quiet, everyone too tired to talk. As soon as we got back to the dorm, i went to mine and paige went to hers to shower and change.

Nika barged in “OMG YOU AND PAIGE FUCKED” she yelled

“woah nik calm down” you said grabbing her shoulders laughing.

“THAT IS CRAZY- WELL WE ALL KNEW YOU GUYS WERE HOOKING UP BUT OMG” She continued to yell.

“The fuck- anyways nika its 2 am. please stop yelling.” I tell nika as we sit on my bed. I explain our situation to her.

“yo- oh hey nika?” paige says walking in.

“ugh if you guys are gonna fuck again, i’m sleeping at naheims. gay bitches” nika says joking and walking out.

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #wbb x reader #ncaa wbb #paige buckets #paige x reader #gay #wlw #smut

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the-original-skipps · 6 months ago

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|| S𝐮𝐨 H𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 G𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧. || Depraved!Suo Hayato x CluelessFem!Reader || Wind Breaker ||

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:13

PLAY!

due to the "yes" winning the poll I have decided to post however, if you said "no" you may scroll past and completely ignore this : i've never written dark content before so this is a first trying to branch out into new things also depraved is a fancy word for yandere perv lol also hes aged up here and he and reader are the same age

CW: 18+ content, dark content, yandereness, sexual content, non-consensual, use of drugs.

18+ only minors do not interact

❥ Suo Hayato is a gentleman that is what his friends and the people around him would and will say. He’s a loyal friend and is always ready to lend a hand when you’re in trouble. Is what he wants you to believe but behind that kind smile lies thoughts and intentions you would have never thought a man like him to have.

❥ You’re such a naive little thing is the thought that often crosses Suo’s mind. Like unsuspecting prey, you have no idea what kind of thoughts a predator like him has for you. Who so easily believes anything he says as you look at him with those innocent doe eyes. You shouldn’t look at him like that, the urge to ruin you only gets stronger.

❥ You would think that Suo barely uses his phone but in fact you just never catch him when he does. His phone's gallery is filled with pictures of you, the pictures you posted online to the unexpecting shots he's taken of you. These pictures help him fuel the daydreams he has of you, especially late at night.

❥ You don't realize but Suo likes to take his eyes all over your body. From your tight blouse where the outline of your bra is present or how your skirt peaks a little to show your supple ass has him running wild with impure thoughts. Are you testing his restraint with how you choose to dress or are you just asking him to do as he pleases with you?

❥ Suo always likes to stand behind you not only does he get a good view, he also gets to take in your scent. He’ll casually compliment on how good you smell, asking for the perfume brand that maybe his mother would like. It’s an innocent question, of course you'd happily answer. However, his true intentions are to buy the exact same shampoo or perfume as you.

❥ Cause he’ll spray that perfume on his pillow and his clothes. It's as if you were just with him. His pillow as he hugs it tight, imagining that it’s you that he hugs you from behind- his hips rutting, his hard erection pressed against your ass. As he licks your ear and whispers, teasing you on how needy you are. Red faced, as you whimper and plead with him to put it in.

“Tell me, how badly you want me.”

“P-Please, Hayato…!”

❥ Just the thought of you whimpering his name with desperation almost has him cumming. As he strokes his cock with the exact same underwear he managed to steal when he was at your place under the guise of bringing some new tea over for you to taste. It was so easy to excuse himself to the bathroom to look into your laundry basket, not to look for the freshly washed ones but the ones you just used.

❥ As mentioned above, Suo likes to come over to your place with some excuse of having new tea or dessert for you to try. It's adorable how you can't deny him. So he takes the opportunity to slip in something that has you yawning, difficult to keep your eyes open. Suo the sweet talker that he is will coax you to take a short nap on the coach.

❥ Once he knows you’re deep asleep, he'll straddle you-but hovering to not put his weight on you. He will get real close to lovingly admiring you as he traces his hand around your vulnerable body. Unbuttoning your shirt, as he presses soft kisses on your neck and chest. Before, the strong urge to mark you takes over. He'll lick the spot he chooses, before pressing his lips-to suck on your skin until a red blotch remains. Suo will do this until your whole neck and chest are covered in his marks. Once you'll wake up you'll find your head on his lap, as he looks at you innocently-stroking your hair like nothing happened.

❥ You're confused, as you find yourself covered in this red - some borderline purple bruises around your neck and chest area, even touching them seems to hurt. Worried you consult your close friend Suo on what to do. Maybe he will offer a solution to your problem. Suo had to bite back a grin as you asked him about these strange wounds that appeared out of nowhere. As a reliable friend that he is of course he has some medication at home that might help. So, he invites you to come over.

❥ Now you sit in front of him shirt unbuttoned as he hungrily observes admires these strange wounds. His strong gaze has you flushing in embarrassment-flinching every time the cold ointment on his fingers traces a mark. Every squeak and whimper awakes a certain darkness in him, that wants to pin you down as you writhe helplessly against him. How effortless would it be for him to just take you now but he doesn't.

❥As he waves goodbye to you from his front door he thinks to himself that you don't have to leave, you're more than welcome to stay here. His parents are barely home anyway, they won’t mind. Suo promises he'll take good care of you but that is all in due time. Maybe one day but right now he's enjoying the hunt.

❥ It's hard to imagine him like this isn’t it? They're nothing more than simple actions of a friend with no hidden intentions. Because Suo Hayato is a gentleman and is your dearest friend, or so that’s what he wants you to believe.

#wind breaker reader insert #wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #suo hayato x reader #suo hayato #wind breaker x you #wind breaker imagines #skipps writes

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 6 months ago

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Worship

a/n I won’t say anything because what is there to say… Also, this is fiction idk why but I just feel the need to wave that flag here.

Summery: Just on stage shenanigans between you, the back singer, and the boys.

warning: no full on smut because there’s so much of that as it is but they are sex on legs so this does have sexual implications. I’m just a girl. And I feel like I should go confess my sins to someone.

All of them x reader

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Nothing truly beats the feeling of the stage lighting beaming on you. The radiant atmosphere and the beating of the crowd in front of the stage. It got addictive fast. And the rush of both adrenaline and freedom you never truly got over. Most of the time, it still felt like a dream. Like you weren’t there. There weren’t four other people. A whole band that people swooned over.

You still remember the notification of the private message in your DMs. “We’ve seen your videos. The voice is to die for. Up to back us up?” You had stared at it for hours. Pressing the profile over and over again, convinced that one of the times it would take you to some scammy account, but it didn’t. So you took that leap of fate, and the roller coaster that unfolded still made your skin tingle at times.

“How you don’t break an ankle in these is beyond me," II grumbled, gesturing to the high heels you were strapping around your legs. Before throwing the towel he had just used to dry his hair with, at you. You huffed back, “Of course you wouldn’t know; you sit and look pretty the whole show." You shot him an overly exaggerated smile before flipping him off. “Put the claws away, baby," he said, lifting his hands up, “I would love to keep my eyes for some time longer." You lifted both of your hands, making sure to flex the black coffin-shaped nails, only earning a chuckle in return from II.

“No form of violence is allowed backstage," III cut in, putting the mask over his face, “Unless it’s consensual, of course." The three of you snickered. There was never a dull moment with them. You weren’t sure exactly why you imagined them to be all cold and unapproachable, but you couldn’t have been more wrong. From the silly hats they happily took from the fans to messing around on stage barking. “We’re out in thirty," IV's voice cut through the snickering. “Vess?”, you questioned, standing up only to still feel tiny among them. It was unfair how even killer heels had you feeling minuter. “In his element, ready to go," the usual then. You turned to the mirror while doing the last checkups. Fiddling with the straps of your dress.

“Headset feels good?”, warm hands slipped up your beck, fidgeting with the wires as if he even knew what he was doing. “You just needed an excuse to put your hands on me, sir," you said, pushing back against IV’s chest. He already had his mask on, but from the way his blue eyes flickered, you knew he was smirking at you. “You can’t call the man guilty if you haven’t caught him red-handed, darling," he muttered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “And to my defense, the wire wasn’t plugged in," he snickers before pulling back. You shook your head as you watched him follow after the boys out. Reaching for your mask, you take a couple of deep breaths to steady your heartbeat. It was going to be a night to remember. You could just feel it.

And your gut wasn’t wrong. The crowd was wild tonight, and that always set the bend into a different kind of frenzy. For most of the shows, you were usually up there on your pedestal. Looking like a vision cloaked in both light and darkness, there were some songs that Vessle liked having you down there with him. But you always felt almost guilty. You didn’t want the fans to feel like you were there to change the dynamic. Let alone take up a spot that wasn’t yours to take.

So when you noticed Vessel striding towards you, you couldn’t help but silently shake your head. They had already all been all over each other all night. But you don’t get to run through all of your reasons as to why this was a bad idea before Vessel was in front of your pedestal. Hands reaching up for your ankles before he pointed for you to get down. You shook your head at him, continuing to sing your part. Not wanting the interaction to seem odd, you sank to your knees so you can touch his face, only realizing how wrong this move was once Vessel's hands grip the sides of your hips and you’re airborne before you can even blink.

A small shriek slips past your lips as you hold onto his shoulders. But no matter what your reaction to this was, he was all smug about it. His white teeth bright against the black paint covering his body. “I don’t like it when you put on unnecessary fights," he mused before turning back to the crowd. So, you let the thrill of the beat take over. Playing into the role of the masked goddess. A siren. That was the beauty of the mask. Such little thing making the biggest difference. Giving one the chance to feel way more confident.

And it’s II your legs take you to first. His eyes follow your movements all across the stage. With the drum set taking most of his platform he was sat on, playing games with this man was tricky. But it wasn’t impossible. So you slither behind him. Placing your hand on top of his head, you carefully make him look up at you. That same moment, the heel II was so found off finds its way between his parted legs. Without missing a beat, his face is pressed into your upper thigh, fingers dipping beneath the mesh overlay of your dress. And you know there will be hell to pay later on from the way he’s gripping your ankle. You push his face away from your body, throwing him a lighthearted kiss as you hurry down the platform stairs. The roar of the crowd filling all of your senses.

III is left to your mercy next. And since his eyes were all over you, you knew that even if you were to walk right past him, he would follow you across the stage. So you stand there, motioning with your fingers for him to come to you. Right as your part of the solo vocals came. Ones that boys even called your siren song. You let the melody pour out of you. Watching III sink to his knees in front of you. Your brain blanks for a moment as he leans forward, and you just know why the crowd erupts in chaos. So your fingers find his head, pulling him even closer. Let him paint the picture of devouring you. Worshipping you. And you’re yet again so thankful for the mask covering your face because you know that your face would be as red as the paint on his skin. Especially after he stands back up. Fingers moved to brush over his lips as if he was cleaning them.

You can feel someone’s eyes burning holes in your body, and you’re not even one bit surprised to see IV with his eyes blazing. He was the one you flirted the most with backstage as well. Since day one, there was just that mutual fire you both shared. So the back and forth between you both was never-ending. But if there was one thing IV avoided, it was making any move towards you while everyone was on stage. And while boys took their sweet time being lunatics when it came to you. His play pretend ended with his bandmates. Yet you didn’t miss the glances he threw your way. Or how he would find himself close to your pedestal, close enough to touch but never leaning in.

And while your head was telling you that maybe he just didn’t want to get involved, your heart was telling you to take yet another leap of faith. So you two stood in front of each other for a heartbeat. And right as Descending’s you came crawling back to me, filled the stage. Your finger hooked beneath the bottom of his mask as you pulled him closer. No matter the blast of sounds around you, you could still make out the growl that slipped past his lips. And since his eyes promised hell, you threw all caution to the wind as you leaned in, smashing your lips against his. You didn’t let it linger for too long; there was little fun in having two masks between you both, but it got the point across well enough.

IV’s hand reached for you as you moved back away. A freaked-out giggle slipped past your lips as you darted towards your last victim for the night. Well, and shelter now, considering that you had to get away from IV. Vessel was someone you knew had to be worshipped in front of the fans. You weren’t living under a rock. His hands and fingers had separate fan blogs, not to mention his carved-out chest muscles. So you slipped behind him. Letting your fingers trail the sides of him. Finding the sweat-drenched skin. Dragging your nails over the paint, no doubt leave claw marks in its way.

You rested your head against Vessel’s beck for a heartbeat, hoping to slip from behind him with ease. But you couldn’t have been more wrong because the moment you took the reassured stride away from him. A firm hand gripped your hair as he carefully, yet rather possessively, dragged you back to him. Pulling your head back so he could look down at you, shaking his head. But the smile gave his controlling demeanor away. “Whatever will we do with you, little Vixen?" You bit your lip, shrugging slightly. Playfully pushing at his chest, you slipped out of his grip. Swaying your hips as you slowly climbed back to the steps of your pedestal. Not letting your brain think of the hell you just set ablaze.

#sleep token x reader #sleep token imagine #sleep token x oc #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token ii x reader #sleep token iii x reader #sleep token iv x reader #sleep token vessel x reader

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paigebuckets6 · 6 months ago

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Celebrating All Night

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x fem reader

Genre: Dating, smut

Summary: After a big win, Paige and you have a fun night out to celebrate

Warnings: Smut with plot! Praise, degradation, strap, fingering, going down, aftercare afterwards

It was no secret that Paige loved partying...

Just not as much as she loved you.

After wins, it was a common occurrence to see her and the rest of the Uconn team celebrating at a nearby bar or club. Tonight had been a huge game, Uconn winning by a landslide, and you'd wanted nothing more than to spend an evening partying with your girlfriend.

You were sitting with the team, drinking a Shirley Temple as Paige took shots with KK and Aubrey.

You could tell Paige was getting a little tipsy, but she held her liquor well, so you let her continue on.

Ice was on live, reading out comments.

"Where's Paige? Uhhh-"

You laugh at Ice's look of surprise and then mild disgust when she twists in her chair to look for Paige and the woman herself drapes her arm around her.

"Heyyyy guys!"

Paige rizzes the camera, rubbing her hands together and biting her lip, smiling wide as the comments go wild. She then dances out of view, taking another shot.

The music of the club is loud, and they're playing all the bangers tonight. You feel like dancing, so you get up from your seat.

"Paige- wanna dance?"

Paige looks at you, towering over you by a few inches. She's wearing a tight-fitting white crop top, abs on full display, and grey cargo pants, with the band of her boxers peeking out. Her cheeks are flushed, from the alcohol, you, or both.

You fumble for her belt loops in order to get her to move, and you laugh when she raises her hands and goes,

"Woahhh Ma, not in public-"

You blush, and she smirks at you.

Paige grabs the belt loops of your jeans, snapping you flush against her hips.

"Come on y/n, lets dance" She whispers into your ear, grabbing your hand, leading you into the crowd.

The lights are going crazy, the bass even louder here. Everyone's dancing, bodies and exposed skin brushing each other.

You laugh as she tries to tell you a stupid joke over the music cause you can't hear a damn thing, but she looks so cute.

Another song comes on, and Paige pulls you against her. Her hands run up and down your sides, lingering on your ass, squeezing lightly.

You want to kiss her so badly, eyes roving over the plushness of her bottom lip. Her eyes are a vivid blue, even in the flashing lights of the club, dark with desire. Her gaze focuses on your lips as well but she knows she can't kiss you either- not here.

You tease her, getting close to conceal the fact your fingers are dipping into the waistband of her cargo pants. She grabs your hands.

"You wanna go?" She says, already sending a text to KK to let her know.

"Yes.." You say, and with that, she's grabbing your hand again, half dragging you out of the club.

A few minutes later, you're back at her dorm, and once you're inside, with the door shut, Paige doesn't waste a second.

You moan into her mouth as she kisses you, pulling you into her with one hand on your jaw, the other around your waist.

She's needy, and you can feel it with the way she's kissing you so desperately.

Paige's got your dress half off, the thin straps off your shoulders, when you stop her to press her against the door.

You kiss down her neck, the smooth expanse of skin that always drives you crazy.

"Y/n, don't leave a hickey-" Paige says, but can't stiffle the whimper she makes when you bite her, your hands busy unbuttoning her cargos.

"Shhh.. let me hear those pretty whimpers, Paige," You say, biting further down, leaving kisses down to her chest.

"Can I take this off?"

You gesture to her outfit, and she just looks at you with want.

"Yes, of course- can I take your dress off?"

Even though you've been dating for a few months, you both still ask.

"Yes-" The word has barely left your mouth before she's slipping it off you, the material pooling on the floor as you kick it away.

She's kissing your collarbone, leaving a trail of hickeys in her wake.

"My pretty girl" Paige's hands are wandering, pulling you into her again, squeezing your ass.

"Off," You say, pulling her pants halfway down. Paige steps out of them, and you drop to your knees.

"We haven't done it this way yet-" You smirk up at her, and she stiffles a moan at the sight of you between her legs. It never gets old.

You press a finger to her boxers - soaked- and smirk when she begs at your touch.

"Please y/n.. don't tease"

"I know, baby, you're already so wet for me... being such a good girl"

Paige moans at your words, her hips slightly raising.

You take her boxers off and slide your tongue into her folds, relishing the way her hands automatically come down to hold your head.

"Mmmm," You moan at her taste and the position she's got you in, feeling her fingers tangle in your hair, her grip firm.

You sink two fingers into her easily and Paige whimpers as you suck on her clit. Her hips buck into you, grinding down onto your tongue.

"Yes, baby, being so good for me. Fuck my face, just like that-"

You praise her, and you don't need to look up to know she's pink. Paige fucks your face, her hands guiding you as she moans.

"Fuck y/n I'm gonna come, y/n!"

Paige comes, your fingers coated with her slick. You suck them, and she eyes you, pulling you up to her.

Paige kisses you hungrily, picking you up and setting you onto the edge of the bed.

"Does my pretty girl want my strap?" She asks you, fingers on your jaw.

"Yes.. please Paige"

You plead from beneath her and she smirks at your needy tone.

A few minutes later, she's back, her purple strap ready to go.

Pulling off your panties, Paige smirks at your wetness, pushing two fingers in to test if you're ready.

"Please Paige, I need you so bad-" You're begging because it's true- but also because she loves it when you do.

"Okay, y/n.. since you want it so bad.. such a whore for me"

Paige slides the strap in, relishing the way you take her so well. You wrap your legs around her, hands tangled in her hair as she kisses you.

"Paige-" You moan out as she hits your g spot, "please Paige, right there.. don't stop-"

"Not stopping ma"

Paige says, speeding up, her thrusts faster.

She's so turned on by the sight of you being so fucked out beneath her that she almost thinks she could come again.

"Fuck Paige.. please.. please.. I, I'm gonna come"

You clutch at her, nails digging into her back as she fucks you.

"Come for me y/n"

You do just that, shaking as you come on her strap.

You kiss her cheek, recovering from your high.

"Good job baby.. you did so- ahhh-"

Your praise is cut short as she snaps her hips into you, clearly not done with you yet. She kisses you again, biting on your bottom lip.

"Paige- Paige.. I can't take it" You pull away from the kiss to moan at her so deep inside you.

"Shhh, shut up, take it baby. I know you can."

Paige keeps fucking you, and you realize why she's continuing. The strap is hitting her clit at the perfect angle, making her thrusts a little sloppier, a little more desperate.

"Oh baby, you want to come again, don't you? That's why you're fucking me so good-"

You hold her face, watching the way her eyes are glazed over with a bit of satisfaction. Paige always gets so pathetic when she wants to come.

"Yes.. you feel so good y/n" Paige whimpers, fucking you rougher as she gets near her high. You feel yourself close to coming again and even closer when she presses on your lower stomach.

"I'm gonna come Paige-"

Paige moans, the strap rocking against her.

"Come with me pretty girl"

You come together, shaking and glad, and she breathes heavily on top of you for a second before sliding out gently.

Paige cleans you off with some tissues.

"That was so good baby, you okay?"

Paige checks in on you, handing you her waterbottle. She's finding a big shirt for you to sleep in, settling on an old navy Uconn shirt.

"Yeah, I'm good, that was great, love," You say back, giggling as she puts the shirt on over you, ruffling your hair.

"Come cuddleee," Paige whines, and you grin at her.

"You're such a baby Paige"

You settle on her chest, feeling tired but happy.

"No, you're the baby! I bet you're gonna fall asleep first!"

The banter feels familiar. You smile, pressing a kiss against her collarbone.

"I love you, Paige,"

It's Paige's turn to smile, her eyes turning into little crescents as she grins.

"I love you too y/n"

---

Authors Note: Paige fic! Lowkey this was just filth but I wanted to switch it up from the usual fluff. I hope y'all enjoyed <333.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #uconn #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #paige buckets #fanfic #Spotify

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debonairprincesposts · 25 days ago

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Frankenstein Lookin’ Ass Abomination Thing

Summary: Reader and Jason were just taking a light walk after patrol and come across something horrifying. Jason is terrified.

The streets of Gotham were cloaked in darkness as you and Jason navigated an unfamiliar alleyway, the air thick with tension. The distant sounds of the city faded into an eerie silence, heightening your senses.

Suddenly, you spotted something grotesque out of the corner of your eye.

“What the fuck is that?!” you yelled, your heart racing.

Jason turned to you, eyebrows knitted in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?”

You pointed into the shadows, panic gripping you. “That Frankenstein looking ass abomination thing! How do you not see it?!”

Jason squinted, trying to focus. “Wher—Oh my god! What the hell is that?!” His voice shifted from confusion to alarm as he finally saw the creature lurching toward you, its mismatched limbs twisting in an unnatural way.

“That’s what I’ve been tryna tell you, dawg!” you shot back, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“Dawg? I’m your boyfriend. The fuck you mean ‘dawg’!” he exclaimed, incredulous, despite the danger looming ahead.

“Now is not the time for this, dammit!” you snapped, heart pounding as the creature drew closer.

“Kill it!!!” Jason shouted, his instincts kicking in.

“You’re the one with the gun! You kill it!” you replied, frustration mingling with fear.

Without hesitation, Jason threw the gun to you, a wild look in his eyes. “Well, now you’re the one with the gun! You kill it!”

You fumbled for a moment, catching the weapon just in time. “Seriously?!”

The creature’s grotesque form advanced menacingly. With your heart racing, you took a deep breath, aiming the gun with shaky hands. “Okay, okay… just stay behind me!”

Jason moved into position beside you, his presence grounding you. “You’ve got this. Just focus.”

With a steadying breath, you pulled the trigger, the loud bang echoing through the alley. The creature staggered back, and you glanced at Jason, who wore a proud, albeit worried, grin.

“The hell are you grinning for! Since when were you a pussy?!” You turn to him, all furious and maybe a little terrified. Since when did the Red Hood hide behind you for anything?

“Since alien looking things started jump scaring me!” He cries, looking absolutely ready to throw up from the thing you just shot.

“Bullshit! You’re Red Fucking Hood! You deal with this kinda shit on a monthly basis!” You argue, feeling exasperated. This stuff shouldn’t even phase him, but here we are.

“I’m tired, okay?! And I really don’t wanna get night terrors from stuff like that! My brain does it for me already!” Poor baby.

“Let’s just get out of here,” you sigh, disbelief and exhaustion at the ridiculousness of the situation flooding your voice as you lowered the gun.

You took a hold of his arm and bolted in the opposite direction of the weird alien thing. Its corpse is still there….. You’ll just call Nightwing for a cleanup…. You just hope he doesn’t faint on the spot once he sees the nightmare inducing creature dead in an alleyway. And its blood was green. Ew.

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rootedinrevisions · 2 months ago

Text

Playing with Fire: Part 2

SUMMARY: You and Damian head back to the hotel

WARNINGS: SMUT. SPANKING. P IN V SEX.

WORD COUNT: 2.5K

PART 1

You enter the hotel room, the door closing softly behind you as you glance around the space. It’s quiet, dimly lit, with nothing but the hum of the air conditioning filling the silence. After the heat of the night, your heart is still racing, anticipation buzzing under your skin. You kick off your shoes and toss your bag on the chair, but your mind is on Damian—how his voice dropped when he said you were in for it, how his eyes darkened as he whispered in your ear, the low threat promising something more than a playful night of teasing.

You move toward the bed, slipping out of your jacket, and take a moment to catch your breath. As much as you'd pushed him, testing how far he would let you go, there was a part of you that knew you were the one who was losing control. The moment Damian had leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Fucking is a reward, but you haven’t been good,” a thrill had shot straight through you.

Now, waiting for him to get back feels torturous.

You pace for a few minutes, the weight of his shirt on your skin reminding you of the teasing that brought you here. The way his eyes followed your every move, the unspoken tension growing each time you pushed the limits just a little further. You pull back the covers of the bed and sit on the edge, legs crossed, every nerve in your body on high alert.

Minutes feel like hours, but finally, the door clicks open, and Damian steps inside. His expression is unreadable at first, a dark, focused look in his eyes as he locks the door behind him and tosses his bag to the floor. He doesn't say anything at first—just stares at you with the kind of intensity that makes you feel exposed, like he's stripping you bare with nothing but a glance.

He finally breaks the silence with a low, calm tone, “You’ve had a lot of fun tonight, haven’t you?”

You bite your lip, but don’t answer right away. The energy between you shifts, heavier now, as Damian takes a step closer. His eyes drift down, lingering on the shirt—the shirt you’d worn just to mess with him, to get under his skin. Then, they travel lower, past the hem of the mini skirt that left little to the imagination.

Before you can respond, he’s right in front of you, towering over the bed. Damian’s hands are on your knees, parting your legs with an effortless pull as he steps between them. His thumb grazes your thigh, and you shiver at the contact.

“You think you can just walk around like this, drive me crazy all night, and there won’t be consequences?” he murmurs, his voice deep and rough. You feel his fingers brush your bare skin beneath the skirt, but he stops just short of giving you what you want, pulling his hand away instead, leaving you aching for more.

You meet his gaze, heat coursing through you as you whisper, “And what if I want those consequences?”

A dark smile tugs at Damian’s lips. “Oh, you’ll get them,” he says, leaning in, his breath hot against your ear. “But don’t think for a second that you’re getting what you want right away.”

He pulls back, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches your reaction. “You’ve been teasing me all night,” he continues, his fingers ghosting over your thigh again, “but that’s over now. No more games. I’m the one in control.”

You swallow hard, the anticipation building between you. Every brush of his hand is calculated, deliberate—just enough to drive you crazy but not enough to give you relief. Damian leans in closer, his lips barely grazing your neck, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

“I told you,” he breathes against your skin, “fucking is a reward. And you haven’t earned it.”

Damian’s words hang in the air between you. His voice, low and commanding, ignites something within you, but it’s the restraint he’s showing that drives you wild. You’d expected him to lose control the moment he stepped into the room after all your teasing, but now, you’re beginning to realize—he’s been holding back this entire time. He’s in control, and he’s going to make sure you understand just how far out of your league you are tonight.

Damian’s fingers continue to hover dangerously close to where you want them, his touch infuriatingly light, making you hyperaware of every inch of your body. He brushes his thumb over your thigh again, just enough pressure to tease but not enough to satisfy. You shift slightly under his gaze, your legs parted as his hand lingers, but Damian smirks and pulls back.

“Patience,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on yours. “You’ve been playing with fire all night. Now you’ll wait until I decide you’ve had enough.”

You bite your lip, frustrated but aching for more. Damian steps back, his tall frame looming over you, and folds his arms across his chest. The confidence in his stance only makes him more irresistible. He’s watching you, studying you like a predator does its prey, enjoying the way you squirm under the weight of his gaze.

“Take off the skirt,” he says suddenly, his voice calm but authoritative.

Your breath catches in your throat. The directness of his command leaves no room for argument. Slowly, you rise from the bed, standing in front of him. His eyes never leave yours, but you can feel the intensity of his attention, the weight of it, as you slip your hands down to the hem of the mini skirt.

You hesitate for just a moment, teasing him the way you had been all night, but Damian’s lips curl into a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t make me ask twice,” he warns, his voice dripping with a quiet threat that sends a shiver through you.

With a deep breath, you slide the skirt down your hips, letting it drop to the floor. You step out of it, standing before him in nothing but his oversized shirt, and Damian’s gaze sweeps over you, his dark eyes devouring every inch of your exposed skin.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, the praise sending heat rushing through you, but there’s still an edge to his voice that makes it clear you’re not in the clear just yet.

You reach for the buttons of his black dress shirt, ready to continue stripping down, but Damian steps forward, catching your wrist in his hand. His grip is firm but not painful, a reminder of his control.

“I didn’t say you could take that off.”

You swallow hard, the anticipation building inside you as he takes his time, dragging this out, making you wait for his next move. He leans in close again, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “You don’t get to decide when this ends. I do.”

Damian’s hand finds your hip, his grip possessive as he guides you back onto the bed. You lay back, watching as he moves over you, his presence overwhelming, his gaze never leaving yours. He trails his fingers lightly up your thigh again, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through you, but he doesn’t rush. He’s methodical, making you feel every second of his control.

“You thought you could tease me all night and get away with it?” he asks, his voice dark and smooth. His fingers slip higher, brushing dangerously close to where you need him most, but again, he pulls back, just short of giving you what you want. “I don’t think so.”

He leans down, his lips hovering just above yours, teasingly close, but not quite touching. “You’re going to have to earn it,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your lips. “And I’m going to enjoy watching you try.”

Your body trembles beneath him, the tension between you at its peak. You want to move, to pull him closer, to take what you’ve been craving all night, but you know that Damian’s not going to let you. Not yet.

He’s going to take his time, drag out every second, until you’re begging for him. Something he knows you don’t like to do.

“You want it?” Damian asks, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as his fingers dance just on the edge of your waistband, toying with you. “Then tell me how much you want it.”

When you don’t respond, a low chuckle comes from Damian’s chest. You feel goosebumps on your skin. You’re not sure if your silence helped or hurt your current situation.

You can feel the heat radiating from Damian as he hovers above you, teasing you with every soft touch and lingering kiss. His control is undeniable, the way he’s holding back and savoring every moment of your frustration. But you can sense the shift in him now—his restraint is beginning to slip. His gaze darkens as his hands tighten their grip on your hips, and there’s a spark in his eyes that tells you your teasing has finally caught up with you.

Suddenly, without warning, Damian flips you over, his hands guiding you firmly onto your stomach. Before you have time to react, you feel the sharp, sudden sting of his hand coming down on your bare ass. The impact sends a jolt through you, heat rushing to your skin, but before you can process the sensation, another smack follows. It’s firm but controlled, each strike sending a clear message—this is your punishment for pushing him all night.

"That," Damian growls, his voice rough as his hand comes down again, "is for testing me."

His hand lingers on your flushed skin, his fingers brushing lightly over the spots where he spanked you, the tenderness making you shiver. You let out a small whimper, but Damian just chuckles, a dark, satisfied sound.

He leans down so his lips brush against your ear. “You thought you could get away with teasing me like that?”

You bite your lip, unable to respond, the combination of pain and pleasure making it hard to focus on anything but the throbbing warmth spreading across your skin.

"I warned you," Damian continues, his voice low and commanding. "But you didn’t listen."

He delivers one last, firm spank before his hand slips lower, soothing the heated skin with a gentle touch. “Now,” he murmurs, his tone softening but still holding that edge of control, “you’ve had your punishment. I think it’s time for your reward.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, anticipation building inside you. You hear him shift behind you, his weight settling on the bed as he leans in close again, pressing his body against yours. “Tell me,” he whispers, his voice a low growl. “What do you want your prize to be?”

Your breath catches as his fingers brush against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, his touch light and teasing again, but this time you know he won’t hold back for long. Your mind races, but before you can even respond, Damian’s lips are on your neck, kissing the sensitive skin there, his hand inching higher, finally giving you just a taste of what you’ve been craving.

“I need you,” you breathe, barely able to form the words, your body aching for him. “I want you.”

Damian smirks against your skin, clearly satisfied with your answer. “Good,” he murmurs, his voice dark and filled with promise. “Because I’m going to give you exactly what you’ve been asking for all night long, Cariño.”

With that, he pulls back, his hands gripping your hips up off the bed as he positions you beneath him. The anticipation is almost unbearable as you feel him hovering over you, his body warm and solid against your back. He takes his time, letting you feel the weight of his presence before finally, with a firm, deliberate movement, he pushes inside you.

The sensation is overwhelming, and you gasp, your fingers gripping the sheets as Damian sets a steady, powerful rhythm. He’s not holding back anymore, every movement controlled but intense, his hips slamming against yours as you take what he’s been holding back all night.

“You wanted this,” Damian growls in your ear, his breath hot against your skin as his hands tighten on your hips, pulling you closer with every thrust. “Now you’re going to take it.”

His pace quickens, each movement more deliberate than the last, and the room fills with the sound of your labored breathing and the slap of skin against skin. Damian’s grip on you is unrelenting, his dominance palpable with every thrust, every breathless command he whispers in your ear.

The tension between you builds, every moment pushing you closer to the edge until you can’t take it anymore. You can feel Damian’s control slipping too, his breathing ragged as he drives into you with increasing intensity. The pleasure builds and builds, until it’s almost too much to bear.

“Tell me you’re mine,” Damian demands, his voice rough and strained as he leans down, his lips brushing against your neck again. “Say it.”

You can barely form words, but somehow you manage to whisper, “I’m yours.”

The second the words leave your lips, Damian’s movements become even more urgent, his hands gripping you tighter as he pushes you both closer to the edge. The pressure builds until, finally, you feel yourself shatter beneath him, your entire body trembling as waves of pleasure crash over you.

Damian follows soon after, his breath hot and heavy against your skin as he lets go, his body tensing as he finds his release. He stays there for a moment, his body pressed against yours, before slowly pulling back, his hand trailing gently over your flushed skin as you both catch your breath.

The room is quiet now, the only sound the soft rise and fall of your breathing as Damian pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you from behind. His grip is firm but comforting, a reminder of the control he had over you moments before, but now softened by the tenderness of the aftermath.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs again, this time softer, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “Don’t forget that.”

You smile, still breathless, and snuggle back into his embrace, the warmth of his body against yours soothing the lingering tension from the night’s events. It’s only then that you realize just how much you’d craved not just the pleasure, but the sense of safety that Damian’s control brought you.

And with that, you drift off to sleep, knowing that whatever comes next, Damian will always be in control—and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Dedicated to my bestie and resident Damian Priest lover @caramara3

#Damian Priest #Damian Preist Fic #Damian Priest Fanfic #Damian Preist Fanfiction #WWE #WWE Fic #WWE Fanfic #WWE Fanfiction #Damian Priest smut #WWE smut

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whimsicalpolitical · 6 months ago

Text

An encounter // Matty Healy x Reader

in which you just got broken up with but a man lets you forget everything for a night

content warning: smut, 18+ mdni, fingering, p in v, oral (m and f receiving), praise, drunk sex?, grinding

The pulsating beat of the club's music reverberates through your chest as you sway unsteadily on the dance floor, your movements fueled by a mix of alcohol and heartbreak.

Your girls had dragged you out, insisting that a night out was the perfect remedy for a broken heart. And now, under the flashing lights, you are beginning to think they might be right.

Lost in the music you throw your head back, letting the rhythm take over. The world blurry around you, a kaleidoscope of faces and colors. You feel free, if only for a moment, free from the memory of his words, the sting of the breakup still fresh in your mind.

“Here, have another shot,” your friend yelled, handing you a shot glass. You gladly take it.

You bring the shot to your lips and tilt it back, the tequila sliding down your throat. It doesn’t even burn anymore; you are so far gone that the alcohol is just another warm rush in your bloodstream, blending seamlessly with the intoxication already coursing through you.

“Get it girl,” your friend says, her hands on your hips, guiding you, and you throw your head back, letting the laughter spill out, carefree and wild. For the first time in what felt like forever, you aren’t thinking about him or the way he had left. You are just here, in the moment, with your best friends, reveling in the liberation that comes with letting go.

You keep dancing, bodies moving together.

Suddenly one of your other friends lean in close, her voice barely cutting through the din, “hey,” she says, nudging you with her elbow. “There’s a guy over there totally eye-fucking you.”

You stop mid-laugh, your breath catching as you follow her gaze. Across the dance floor, leaning against the bar with a drink in hand, was a guy. His eyes are locked on you, dark and intense, a smirk playing on his lips. The air seems to crackle between you, and the heat of his gaze sends a shiver down my spine.

Next to him are two other guys, one with a blonde buzz cut and the other one with a bun.

“She finally noticed you after you staring like a perv for half an hour,” George nudges him but Matty gives him a glare.

“She’s fucking gorgeous, there’s no way I’m gonna let her go.”

“Go for it then.”

Matty empties the glass in his hands before he hands it to George, “don’t count on seeing me tonight.”

“Good luck man,” they call after him but he’s already on his way through the crowd.

You feel your cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and thrill. The alcohol gives you the courage you might not otherwise have. “Oh my god, should I talk to him?”

“Absolutely,” your friend says, giving you a little shove, “have you seen him? He’s fucking hot.”

You agree with her, his tousled curls, which fall effortlessly across his forehead are damp with sweat from the heat of the dance floor. His dark locks are wild and unruly, adding to his magnetic allure.

Around his neck, a silver necklace catches the light with every movement, the chain glinting and drawing attention to the hollow of his throat. The pendant rests just above his chest, a small but striking detail that adds to his effortlessly cool demeanor.

You watch as he licks his lips, the glistening trail left by his tongue making your breath hitch. The way his mouth moves, so sensual and deliberate, makes you ache with a sudden, urgent need.

You imagine the cool metal of his necklace brushing against your body, leaving a delicate imprint as he presses closer. The thought of his fingers grazing your collarbone, the chain caught between you, sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

Your friends smirk to each other when he reaches you, not waiting for you to speak.

“Having a good night?” He asks searching for your eyes which are currently directed at the floor.

“Could be better,” you say, hinting at something more and you know he gets it because when you look up there’s a glimmer in his eyes and a smirk on his face.

“Want me to buy you another drink?” You shake your head at him.

“Want to know your name first before you buy me a drink,” you explain.

He nods and holds out his hand for you to take it which you do. “I’m Matty.”

The way he says his name sounds more like Ma-e, doesn’t matter because it sounds hot coming from his mouth. His hand is warm but not sweaty and you can’t help but imagine how it would feel in other places.

“Matty,” you say, wanting to know how his name sounds coming from your own lips. He smiles and nods his head once more before asking for your name.

“Gorgeous name,” he compliments and you can practically feel the blush creeping up your neck. It’s a good thing the club is filled with neon pink light.

“How does that drink sound now?” You definitely shouldn’t drink any more but when you’re already this drunk you don’t care if someone offers you more.

Should you be doing this? Having fun with a man when you just got your heart broken? Probably not but you’re just going to fuck that, fuck him.

“Perfect,” you say, “sounds perfect.”

He takes your hand in his and leads you towards the bar. When you turn around one last time your friends are smiling and winking at you, which makes you roll your eyes at them.

His touch is electrifying, his hand still holding yours. You can feel the anticipation building inside you, mixing with the alcohol in your veins, making your head spin the best way possible.

You lean against the bar when Matty turns to the bartender to order two drinks, his voice is smooth and low. You take a moment to look at him again, his dark curls fall into his eyes, the mischievous curve of his lips, the intensity of his gaze when he looks back at you.

The drinks arrive and hands you yours, clicking his glass against yours. “Hopefully to a better night,” he says, his eyes never leaving yours.

You echo his phrase, taking a sip. The drink is strong and it burns slightly as it goes down but you welcome the sensation. Its stronger then anything else you drank tonight which is why the drink grounds you.

Before you can speak up your friend shakes you, “gonna- gonna go home with a guy now,” she slurs, “oh hi!” She says when she sees Matty, “oh wow, he’s not him, good for you girl, fuck him.”

She’s off leaving you completely embarrassed with a Matty that grins at you. “He sounds like a dickhead.”

“You don’t know him,” you have no idea why you try to offend him.

“Don’t have to,“ he pours the drink down his throat waiting for you to do the same but you’re just sipping lightly.

“Hm,” you hum, “he is a dickhead, I don’t want to talk about him tonight though.”

“Wasn’t planing on doing so,” he steps closer, his arm disappearing behind you to set down his glass. Your breath hitches when he stands in between your legs, “would prefer talking about you anyway.”

You try to take a sip of the drink but some guy bumps against you and the liquid is flowing down your mouth.

“Watch where you’re fucking going,” he says, pushing him through the crowd, “wanker.”

Matty takes the drink from your hands and sets it down next to his to make you focus on him. His thumb brushes against your chin, wiping your wet mouth before taking his thumb into his mouth.

Your voices catches in your throat, trying to wipe your neck with your arm, distracting you from the fact how close he is. You can smell the mix of his cologne, cigarettes and alcohol on him and it’s intoxicating.

“Think you missed a spot,” you whisper, pointing your finger to your mouth. You’re feeling bold but you’re loving it, you’re going with the flow and how can you resist when a hot guy is in front of you.

“Is that right?” His eyes flick down to your lips, licking his own before inching closer. “Let me.” He whispers before crashing his lips to yours.

His hands abandon your face, finding their way to wrap around your waist, bringing you to your toes and flushed against his chest. Your own react on instinct and weave around his neck, and your fingers find refuge in his black curls.

The tip of his tongue grazes your bottom lip, as he asks for access. The contact alone ignites you, and you can’t help the soft moan that lodges in the back of your throat, a flutter traveling below your stomach. Matty’s hands squeeze your hips in response to the sound and he slips his tongue into your mouth.

He’s a good kisser, it’s not too wet and his body on yours is driving you insane. You want more, you don’t want this kiss to ever end but at the same time you want him to kiss you in different places.

As fast as the kiss started it’s over, Matty’s pulling away, hands still on your hips. “My place is 10 minutes from here, we can keep doing this there.”

“Let’s go,” you say, dragging him towards the exit impatiently. He chuckles to himself, acting like he’s not as desperate as you.

“Slow down there, love,” the cool air hits your face and you shiver, the warmth of the club slowly washing off of you. “Need a fag first.”

You stop and sit down on a big stone, too dizzy to stand. You’re fucking wasted and all you want to do is jump Matty’s bones right here.

He looks at you, your pupils dilated, hair kind of disheveled and your cheeks flushed. Could be the alcohol but you know he’s the reason.

“Want one?” He asks but you shake your head, you’re not a smoker. You simply think it tastes disgusting but you don’t mind when other people smoke.

“C’mon, I can smoke it on our way.”

He takes out a cigarette and lights it with a practiced ease that makes your breath hitch. The way he cups the flame, his fingers steady, the quick flick of the lighter, and the first drag he takes—it’s all effortlessly hot. You watch as he exhales the smoke, his lips forming a perfect 'O' as he blows it into the night air.

"God, you look so good doing that," you murmur, unable to tear your eyes away from him.

He smirks, the cigarette dangling from his lips. "Do I now?"

You can't wait any longer. The desire is a fierce, living thing inside you. "No, wait," you say suddenly, standing up and closing the distance between you in a heartbeat. Before he can react, you grab the cigarette from his fingers and toss it aside, your lips crashing into his.

He makes a sound of surprise, but it quickly turns into a groan as he kisses you back, his hands sliding up to tangle in your hair. The kiss is hungry, desperate, and you can taste the faint bitterness of tobacco on his tongue, mixing with the lingering sweetness of the alcohol.

His hands are everywhere, roaming over your back, down to your hips, pulling you closer until there's no space left between you. You can feel the heat of his body, the hard press of him against you, and it makes your head spin with want.

He whispers your name against your lips, his voice rough with desire. "Let's get out of here."

"Yes," you breathe, barely able to think straight. "Yes, let's go."

With a final, searing kiss, he grabs your hand, and you both hurry down the street, the promise of what’s to come fueling every step. The night air is cool against your flushed skin, but the fire burning between you keeps you warm. You can barely keep up with your own need, the anticipation building with every moment.

When you finally reach his place, he fumbles with the keys, your hands all over each other, stealing kisses even as he tries to unlock the door. As soon as it swings open, you're inside, the door slamming shut behind you.

"Matty," you whisper, and he's on you again, lips crashing into yours, hands pulling you closer. This time, there's nothing to stop you, nothing but the heat and the wild, electric desire between you.

The both of you stumble into the living room, not letting go of each other, too invested in the kiss. You end up on his lap.

“You’re so fucking hot,” you grind against his lap, whispering against his ear.

“You’re flattering me too much,” he groans, “you’re the gorgeous one here.”

You need the friction his lap is merely giving you, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders, grinding down.

He pulls you down for another devastating kiss. You moan into his mouth and grind your hips down. You start rocking back and forth, rubbing your clit deliciously across his hard cock. He pulls his mouth away and hisses lowly in pleasure.

His hands rub up your back, then down to your hips, pulling you down to grind harder against him. He licks and bites at the swell of your breasts on display from your low cut sweater. You tug on his hair, pushing him closer to your tits, grinding down again.

“Fucks sake,” he grunts, “condoms in the bedroom,” he says, without having any intention of lifting you off of his lap. His mouth is on your neck, sucking and kissing down to your collarbone.

You again love your hips down to his and this time his head falls back, pulling you off of him. You whine at the loss of friction.

“Sorry, love, any further and this night would’ve been over,” he stands up, lifting you up, your legs wrapping around his body. “And we don’t want that, right?”

“Mhm,” you hum, trailing kisses down his neck, sucking at one spot until there’s a hickey. You moan at the piece of art you left there.

“Like that?” He asks, “leaving a mark on me.”

You know you finally reached the bedroom when your back hits soft cotton. Matty stays at the edge of the bed pulling your pants down.

He throws them across the room and starts trailing kisses up your legs, he hums against your skin when he’s at your inner thigh, in front of your cunt, dripping cunt.

He can smell you and he can see it, the wet patch on your panties. He’s teasing you with kisses over the cotton and your hands go in his hair, trying to tug him closer.

“Don’t worry, m’ gonna make you feel good,” he tugs your panties down and sticks them into his pocket with a smirk. “Keeping those, need to remember you somehow.”

You giggle which is replaced my a whine when he bites your inner thigh. “I’ve been wanting to do this since I saw you.”

He gazes at your glistening sex, transfixed by you.

“You look fucking sexy,” he dips his tongue into the apex of your heat, familiarizing himself with your taste before licking a languid stripe up to your throbbing clit.

He comes up for a quick second, “and you taste as sweet as you look.”

You writhe under him, beg with wordless whines and whimpers for more. He understands your sounds, understands their tells, he soothes you with a gentle shh against your cunt.

“Matty,” you moan, “please,” his fingernails dig into the meat of your inner thighs mindlessly. You watch his lip twitch and his eyes roll to the ceiling.

You anchor yourself with fingers of one hand twisted in the dark, sweaty curls at the crown of his head. Two digits on the other pinch at one of your hardened nipples, just as Matty begins to swipe his tongue back and forth over your clit.

“F-fuck,” you sigh, draping your trembling legs over his shoulders.

You look down at Matty’s lower half, which is rutting into the bed, but only one time before stopping, not letting himself cum.

He licks your cunt like he fears you’re going to melt, lathes over your clit again and again with the wide flat of his tongue. The wet squelch of him slurping at you, eager to catch every last drop of your arousal, bounces off the walls obscenely.

You find yourself completely overcome with ecstasy, close to falling apart on Matty’s tongue in a matter of minutes.

As soon as he curls two fingers into your cunt, you’re gone, cumming so hard your vision pulls and your thighs shake.

His name rolls off your tongue effortlessly, naturally. Like it’s made for you to recite.

He lets you come down, soothes you with gentle hands stroking along your thighs, soft lips pressed to your sensitive mound. You cover your face with your hands and you try to close your legs but Matty first swats you hand away and then he moves up, his body between your legs. “Don’t act modest now.”

“Fuck,” you sigh in contentment, still feeling great because of your orgasm. It was a long time since the last time you had sex and came during it, you’re very sure this is not the last time he’s going to make you finish.

“Can I suck your dick?” You whisper against his lips before moving them against his, tasting yourself on him which makes you groan.

“Have at it,” he says, rolling off of you. He gets rid of his pants on his own, throwing them on top of yours. You straddle his thigh then, gazing at his bulge which is pulsing in his boxers.

“Eyes are up here, love,” he teases, knowing exactly where your mind is.

You start to squeeze him over his boxers, watching him as he lets his head fall back in pleasure. He is rock hard and he feels incredibly hot in your hands.

You bring your hand up to your mouth spitting in it before dipping below the waistband to stroke his shaft up and down.

Your spit and his pre-cum helps you to stroke him smoothly. Your want gets too much then and you tell him to lift his hips to get rid off his boxers.

He’s still wearing his shirt and so are you, it feels weird so you pull your own shirt over your head, leaving you in just your bra on top of him.

“Get yours off,” you plead and you don’t have to ask twice because he’s throwing it over his head, his curls falling against his face. You look at his chest, his arms, his v-line, the tattoos on his skin a new factor to get you wet.

You can’t wait so you put the tip in your mouth, moving your tongue around it. He lets out a little moan. “Keep doing that, fuck.”

You look up at him, he's already looking at you. And you proceed to slowly put all of it in your mouth while maintaining eye contact. His tip touches your throat, and you have to fight a gag. You still have a full fist grabbing the rest that didn't fit your mouth. He moans again at your little show. You close your eyes and start moving your head up and down. Matty moans louder this time, thrusting up inside your mouth.

“What fucking twat would leave a girl like you hm? Proper loss there.”

You whine around his cock, his words going straight to your chore and you can’t help but grind on his thigh once.

He feels your body move and his eyes shoot down to you again, “little minx, need to grind your pussy on me, get some relieve cause sucking my cock turns you on.”

His hips lift up again, his cock going deeper then you think it could go and you let out a moan again, swirling your tongue around the head.

“Get off, christ, need to be inside you.” Your head is moved away by his hand, leaving you with a teasing put on your face.

His thumb finds your bottom lip, refusing to see you pout because you want to suck him off. “I’m real mean, can suck my cock another time yeah?”

You’d love that. God. He’s a stranger but you can’t help but imagine the next time you can do this. He’s pretty, hot, totally your type. The British accent, the tattoos, it’s the type to leave you writhing.

He’s leaning to his side, pulling out a condom out of his drawer. You snatch it from his grip and open it with your teeth, rolling it down his dick.

“Matty.”

“Yes, darling?”

You lean closer, whispering into his ear. “Fuck me.”

He finds his way on top of you again, his hands going around your body to unclasp your bra. “Haven’t had a chance to enjoy these properly.”

His tongue latches onto one of your nipples while his fingers rub against the other one, not wanting to neglect you in any way. Your back arches off the mattress, into his body.

“Your tits are amazing, you know,” he quickly switches nipples before coming up to your face again.

“If I do anything that you don’t fuck with, tell me,” you nod and wrap your legs around him to try to put his cock in you, obviously failing. “Words, love.”

“Yes, Matty, just please fuck-.”

You whimper as you feel his hard length run through your glistening folds, his hips jutting against the backs of your thighs.

“Is that right, need me so fucking bad?”

You nod, crying out when his cock finally pressed through the tight threshold of your cunt. "Fuck, yes Matty.”

"Already forgotten about that little twat?" He asks, fully sheathing himself in you.

Your back arches off the bed and you groan. Fingernails scratching at Matty’s forearms.

He pulls back and slams into you. "Asked you a question.”

"Yes,” You cry out. His cock reaches into the very depths of you, the tip hitting in just the right place to make you scream. "I have.”

“Perfect,” His fingers adjust themselves as his grip slips and then he's pounding into you at such a brutal pace. Back and forth, in and out, he is fucking you.

Your walls clamp around him, the drag of his cock stimulates you more and you clench harder.

Skin on skin, the noises that they make are obscene.

The squelch of him entering you has your face burning, not in embarrassment but desire. His gruff growls and fucked out moans accompany those other sounds and all they do is make you even more horny.

“That’s it,” Matty fucks into you with reckless abandon, his head in the crook of your neck, biting down on your shoulder.

The way he fucks you is savage. Hips snapping at a speed you couldn't imagine, his fingers squeeze your skin so hard you are sure you will have brushes in the shape of his hands all over you.

The knot pulls tighter once more and your body begins to lock up in anticipation. Your eyes flutter before rolling to the back of your head. Your hands reach for his, interlocking your fingers, hoping he will keep you down on Earth.

As your orgasm hits once more, you wail. A long, monotone cry bursts from your lungs, whole unattractive but who cares when you feel so so so good?

"Sound so pretty- fuck- all for me,” Matty gasps. He's trying to hold off but it's all just too much. A shiver runs up his spine and his balls pull taut. He's lost his rhythm, hips now bucking unevenly and with desperation.

Before you become overstimulated, Matty also comes shortly after, only a few more pumps, and he spills himself into the condom.

His body crashes down on top of you, the both of you breathing heavily into each other.

“You feeling alright?” He asks, his brown eyes gazing into yours. The alcohol slowly starts to wind down, sickness starting to set in.

“Yeah fuck- fucking dizzy and I don’t want to push your ego but you’re a god- fuck me.” You groan and whine when he pulls out of you, slipping the condom off of him.

You pull the blanket over your body, one leg draped over it as you watch him move to the bathroom to throw the condom away and to pick up a towel.

“You don’t have to do this, I can piss off you know,” you say, desperately hoping that he wants to keep you with him.

“Don’t be daft, m’ not letting you go, if that’s alright with you.”

Of course you nod and giggle, letting him clean you up before letting him pull you flush up against his body.

“You’re a gorgeous girl,” he whispers, brushing hair off of your face, “meant every word I said.”

“Thank you,” you close your eyes, “Matty I really appreciate it.”

“Of course, love,” he kisses your cheek, “we’re both knackered, let’s just sleep.”

You agree with a soft hum and his arms closed around your waist to pull you in. You intertwine your fingers in one hand, the other on his chest, feeling his now steady heartbeat. Might become your favorite rhythm.

#the 1975 #matty healy #Matty Healy smut #Matty Healy fluff #matty healy x you #matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #matty healy comfort #matty healy blurb #ross macdonald #george daniel #adam hann #the 1975 fic

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waitineedaname · 23 days ago

Note

POV for the no excuses writing meme, please 👀 (i love this game so much!)

a bit of context: this is for my lesbingqiu wip inspired by that "can yuo put that out on me" tweet! the wip is from binghe's pov, so here's shen yuan instead. she strikes me as the kind of person to think being thirty makes her old (it does not lol)

Shen Yuan wasn't sure why Shang Qinghua had insisted on dragging her out drinking if she was just going to abandon her at the first sight of her situationship across the bar. She didn't care if Shang Qinghua insisted she needed to go out more! She had work to do! Never mind that her "work" these days mostly amounted to opening her dissertation document, glaring at it for an hour, and then closing it again. She was simply getting too old to go out drinking. She was thirty now; she might as well join a knitting circle if Qinghua was that worried about her social life.

She continued grumbling to herself as she lit her cigarette. It was much quieter outside the bar, though she could still feel the music thumping through the wall behind her. She would give Shang Qinghua another five or ten minutes to prove she hadn't completely forgotten about her, just long enough to take a smoke break, and then she'd leave. She could go home, change into her pyjamas, and spend the evening working through her reading list like she'd originally intended.

Her plans were interrupted by a sudden spike in the bar's volume as someone opened the door and stumbled out into the alley beside her. Shen Yuan nearly dropped her cigarette as she was suddenly confronted by the most absurdly beautiful woman she'd ever seen.

She wondered deliriously for a moment whether there had been a modelling event that she didn't know about, because there was no other explanation for a woman this gorgeous being loose in the wild. Her dress hugged her curves in all the right places, and she had the kind of artful curls that Shen Yuan thought only existed in professionally styled wigs. Her bone structure was fine, and her skin was perfect. Seriously, was Shen Yuan hallucinating?!

The woman was also, Shen Yuan realized, extremely drunk. She stumbled over her high heels, reaching out to support herself on the wall with a groan. Shen Yuan's hands itched to reach out and support her, but she resisted the impulse.

"Are you alright?" she asked instead. The woman looked up, startled, eyes wide as if she hadn't realized Shen Yuan was there. Absolutely no way those eyelashes were real. They had to be falsies.

The woman made a slightly incoherent noise, and Shen Yuan frowned. How drunk was she? She then abruptly stood up straighter, though she was clearly still supporting herself on the wall.

"I'm fine," she said, surprising Shen Yuan with a low, smooth voice like honey. "I just needed some fresh air."

Shen Yuan nodded sympathetically. Poor thing. "Drink a little too much?"

The other woman's lips pursed in a pout. "My friend ordered shots," she explained.

And then just let her wander off?! Shen Yuan would like a word with this friend of hers. "You should be careful with those," she cautioned. "They can get you drunk very fast."

The woman nodded with the earnestness of an eager student. "Jiejie is very wise."

Oh, she was far too cute. Is this what people were referring to when they talked about blessed interactions between drunk girls at a bar? Never mind that Shen Yuan was hardly buzzed herself. She wanted to pat this girl's head and give her more wisdom, even if this wasn't really her area of expertise.

"Would jiejie keep me company while I sober up?" asked the other woman, her speech slightly slurred and her dark eyes pleading. As if Shen Yuan could say no to eyes like that!

"Of course." Shen Yuan nodded. It was her responsibility, after all! A code of sisterhood, to look out for drunk girls! "What's your name?"

"Luo Binghe." She found a more comfortable position leaning against the wall, resulting in her curls spilling over her chest. Shen Yuan foolishly tracked the motion, then forced her eyes back up to Luo Binghe's face. Aiyah! That dress really left very little to the imagination! Wasn't she cold?! Should Shen Yuan offer her jacket? "What should I call jiejie?"

"Shen Yuan." She lifted her cigarette to her lips and took another drag in the hopes that it would make Luo Binghe's appearance less distracting. Luo Binghe was staring at her with an intensity that made her want to squirm. "Are you here for some special occasion?"

Luo Binghe just continued to stare at her for a while. Poor thing, she really must be drunk. Shen Yuan knew how slowly she processed things when she was drunk. She could be patient with the girl. "My friends wanted to celebrate me starting graduate school," Luo Binghe eventually explained. Her pretty features pulled in a slight frown. "I think it's just an excuse for them to get drunk."

Shen Yuan chuckled at the petulance on Luo Binghe's face. "Maybe, but that’s a worthy thing to celebrate. Congratulations on starting grad school."

"Thank you, Shen-jie." Luo Binghe's expression softened into a smile again, still laser-focused on Shen Yuan's face.

Shen Yuan took a moment to look Luo Binghe over again. Grad school, huh? Shen Yuan struggled to believe that, but she couldn't see why Luo Binghe would lie. It's just, Shen Yuan was in graduate school, and she felt horribly outclassed by the girl in front of her. With looks like hers, she could easily become an idol or something! She didn't deserve to waste away in academia like Shen Yuan, though she admired Luo Binghe's academic drive. And so young, too...

"You seem awfully young for grad school," Shen Yuan said. It could be that she just took good care of herself, but she wouldn't have been surprised if she'd said she was still an undergrad. "How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-five," Luo Binghe said.

"Twenty-five," Shen Yuan repeated. Twenty-five! And she was here, talking to thirty year old Shen Yuan outside a bar. Shen Yuan's earlier impression was right; this really was not the scene for her. "I think I’m officially too old for this bar. People will think I’m a creep if I keep coming around here." She took another drag from her cigarette, feeling morose over her age. "When I graduated high school, you would’ve been thirteen. Isn’t that weird?"

It had seemed like Luo Binghe was sobering up, but she suddenly wobbled on her heels. She was staring intensely at the cigarette in Shen Yuan's hand. "Can you put that out on me?" she slurred.

Shen Yuan's heart rate spiked. Ah! How could she be so oblivious? What kind of helpful jiejie was she if she was blowing smoke in Luo Binghe's direction?! "Oh! I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked if it was okay to smoke near you. I’ll put it out." She quickly ground it out on the wall. Luo Binghe made a pitiful noise of complaint, but that's okay, Shen Yuan had this handled now! No more smoke when Luo Binghe had specifically wanted to get fresh air!

"I know it’s a bad habit," Shen Yuan attempted to make an excuse for herself, her fingers itching with nervous energy. "It gives me something to do with my mouth and hands. I guess I should get a fidget cube or something less bad for me, but…" She trailed off with an awkward laugh.

Luo Binghe's eyes were still wide and slightly wet, fixated on her hands. Poor thing, the smoke must've made her eyes water. She opened her mouth, but she was interrupted by the door to the bar opening with a slam.

"Bing-jie!" A girl burst out of the bar, covered in jangling jewellery and not much in the way of actual clothing. She latched onto Luo Binghe's arm, speaking way too loudly to be sober. "You left your Ling-er all alone in the bar!"

Luo Binghe's expression immediately soured, but based on the way she didn't shove the other girl away, it was clear she knew her. Ah, Shen Yuan realized. This must be the friend who'd ordered the shots. Well, she'd just been planning to keep an eye on Luo Binghe until she sobered up or a friend joined her, and here was the friend. Her company was no longer needed here.

"I should probably get going," Shen Yuan said, giving Luo Binghe a soft smile. She had been scowling at her friend, but when she looked back up at Shen Yuan, her eyes were wide and puppyish again. "Get home safe, okay?"

Luo Binghe nodded, once again reminding her of an earnest student. "I will, Shen-jie."

Shen Yuan waved and left the alleyway. She sighed and pulled out her phone to call a cab. Shang Qinghua could find her own way home. Serves her right.

Still, the night wasn't a complete wash. Even as she made her way home, her thoughts drifted back to Luo Binghe. Did she get home alright? Was she drinking enough water? Would she be too hungover in the morning? A girl that pretty and that drunk could be a real target for unsavory people. Shen Yuan didn't doubt that she could handle herself -- those arms of hers were impressive -- but she couldn't help but worry.

Ah, well. Worrying wouldn't do her any good. It's not like they'd ever see each other again.

She put thoughts of Luo Binghe aside and decided to put her energy towards preparing orientation for her department's incoming graduate students.

#svsss #lesbingqiu #luo binghe #shen yuan #lesbingyuan #bingqiu #bingyuan #my writing #this ended up much longer than i planned so it's getting all the tags!#here's 1500 words of shen yuan not realizing she's gay #this scene was originally written from lbh's perspective #which imo is VERY funny because she's extremely drunk and extremely distracted by shen yuan's mouth and hands #happens to the best of us. i understand you bingbing #i kinda stalled out on the more complete version of this fic that i'd been working on bc the pacing was getting weird #but i'd be willing to post binghe's pov of this scene if people are curious!#i'd post it just as a oneshot here on tumblr not on ao3 #asks #belovedstill

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beyondthesefourwalls · 10 months ago

Text

An Aviation Special

Summary: You had always wanted to experience Mardi Gras in New Orleans, but when it starts to go sideways thanks to your travel companions, you fear the whole trip, maybe even the whole city, has been ruined for you. But then a handsome stranger swoops in when some drunk idiot gets too handsy, and your night takes an unexpected turn for the better.

Pairing: Javy Machado x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: Fluff galore, language, drunk idiots and handsy men, mentions of flashing.

Notes: Written for @thedroneranger's pick your poison challenge, with a Mardi Gras board of my dreams.

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You were doing your best not to panic, choosing instead to focus on the annoyance coursing through your body instead. Your sister and her friends, her stupid, reckless friends, had done what they always did and got a little too wild, and while you had slipped away to the bathroom, they thought it would be a great idea to switch bars. Instead of waiting for you, they had shot a text to the Bachelorette Bead Bash group chat that you had created, telling you where to meet them. Only now you were there, and they were nowhere to be found. And to top it all off, your phone was dead.

“Stupid, stupid bridesmaids,” you muttered under your breath, pushing through the rowdy crowd of people none-too-gently to get to the bar. You tried not to cringe when you felt how sticky it was, immediately withdrawing your hands. “Excuse me,” you said, speaking a little louder when at first you didn’t get the bartender’s attention. He turned to you with a bored, exasperated look on his face, clearly annoyed with all the drunk tourists taking up space. “Do you happen to have a phone charger? I just need it for long enough to make one phone call, I promise.”

“No, sorry.”

You groaned as he walked away without another word, resisting the urge to stomp your foot in frustration. This was just your luck.

“I don’t have a charger, but flash your tits for me, gorgeous, and I’ll give you some of these beads.”

You turned your head to the drunk idiot standing far too close to you, a scowl on your deep purple painted lips as he shook the aforementioned colorful beads in your face. He reeked of sweat and cheap liquor and his eyes were glazed over as he leered at you.

“How about you take those beads and strangle yourself with them instead?” you snarked back, and to your disgust, the guy and his buddies only laughed. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, turning away from him and taking a step to start forcing yourself through the throngs of bodies that were almost certainly violating some sort of fire code. You didn’t get far before a hand was grabbing your arm, jolting you back.

“Come on, baby, you know you want to.”

The panic was trying its best to creep up again, but the annoyance was also morphing into anger as you narrowed your eyes. You were contemplating the risk of slapping him across the face when a voice spoke up from beside you.

“I think she said no, man. But those girls over there look pretty eager.”

The guy almost stumbled in his intoxication when he turned to see where the newcomer was indicating, shouting in excitement at the view of three women standing on a table pulling their shirts up as plastic flung in their direction. Him and his friends moved in that direction without another glance at you. The bouncer of the bar was also heading their way, and you breathed a sigh of relief that not only were the guys leaving you alone, but hopefully those women would make it out of here safely, too.

“Pawning my problem off on other women goes against every feminist bone in my body,” you said, turning for the first time to put a face to the voice who had come to your rescue. You’re met with a startling pair of dark eyes and a jawline that should be illegal. His smile was warm and amused, and despite all the irritation you were feeling, you couldn’t help but take a moment and think damn.

“It seemed like they would welcome the attention a lot more than you were,” he justified, and his voice was as smooth this time as it was the first time he spoke. You gave a noncommittal hum in response, and he raised a thick eyebrow as his smile grew. “You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t say thank you.”

“Were you planning to?” he challenged, and you felt a fluttering in your stomach at his playful tone. You contemplated for a moment, eyes narrowed and colorful lips pursed. You could see the amusement dancing in his gaze as he stared back at you, waiting.

“Thank you,” you finally said, only a little bit begrudgingly, and the stranger nodded in satisfaction.

“You’re welcome,” he repeated. “Also, there’s a place a few bars down that has a charging station. I overheard you asking the bartender.”

"Oh my god," you groaned in relief, "are you serious?"

He laughed, the sound washing over you. He motioned for you to follow him through the crowd toward the exit. You hesitated for a moment, remembering that you were in a city you had never been in before during their busiest tourist week of the year, and you didn't know this man. But then a cheer came from the corner, and when you glanced over, one of the guys from earlier had climbed on the table and taken off his shirt, plastic beads flying everywhere. You winced and turned back, nodding once. As you made your way out of the bar and onto the bustling street, you couldn't help but notice how effortlessly he navigated through the chaos.

"I'm Javy, by the way," he offered once you made it onto the sidewalk.

"Nice to meet you," you replied, offering up your name in return. He stuck close to you as he guided you down the overly crowded streets. You tried your best to ignore the lingering unease that clung to the back of your mind, but you found that his confident demeanor made it easy. "Are you a local?" you asked.

He flashed you a charming smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I used to be," he explained. "I grew up here, but I live in California currently. But New Orleans will always be home in a lot of ways. I take it you're not?"

"No," you snorted, narrowly avoiding running into someone running in the opposite direction. Your arm brushed against Javy's as you pushed slightly closer to him, and you tried to ignore the heat that the slight touch caused. "I'm here for my sister's bachelorette party. The city had always been on our bucket list to travel to together, but then her friends decided they wanted to overtake the whole trip and make it Mardi Gras of all times."

"I take it you don't like these friends?" he asked, a hint of humor in his voice.

You gave him the biggest smile you had since you met him a few minutes ago, and he was laughing before you even spoke the words. "Understatement of the century."

You go on to tell him about how they had pretty much blown the itinerary you had carefully crafted as maid of honor, including how they left to go to the next bar without you, and then not been there when you showed up. You weren't sure why you were telling a man you didn't know all of this, but it felt good to say it out loud nonetheless.

"They sound like they suck," he said plainly once you were done explaining. You let out a very unladylike snort as you agreed.

"What about you?" you asked, "what brings you back?"

"Ironically enough, I'm here for my best friend's bachelor party. There may have been an incident with a few of the groomsmen getting drinks thrown on them, and I ran into one of my cousins at the bar we were just at, so I told them I'd meet up with them once they came back out from going back to the hotel to change." He flashed you another smile, his eyes shining with a genuine warmth. "I suppose everything happens for a reason, though."

You chuckled, and he winked as you arrived at what you guessed was your destination. Javy held the door open for you, gesturing for you to enter first. Inside, the bar was as lively as the others you had been to, but the atmosphere was strangely inviting. You followed as he led you to the back corner where a row of charging stations lined the wall. You tried not to groan when you saw all of them were in use.

“Clearly I’m not the only one in New Orleans who went out without a fully charged phone tonight,” you muttered under your breath. A gentle hand on your arm had you turning your gaze to the man who had led you here, his dark, kind eyes meeting yours.

“Let me buy you a drink while you wait for one to open up.”

You hesitated for a moment, weighing your options. There was something about Javy that intrigued you, a magnetic pull that you hadn't felt in a very long time that made you want to spend more time in his company. You desperately needed to charge your phone and get in touch with your sister and her friends, so you'd be waiting here no matter what anyway...there was no harm in a drink, you rationalized.

"Sure," you finally said, unable to resist his charming smile. "A drink sounds great."

You followed him to the bar, squeezing through the crowd until you found a spot where you could lean against the counter.

As you waited for someone behind the bar to notice you, Javy leaned in closer, his warm breath brushing against your ear. "What would you like?" he asked, his voice tinged with what you thought was anticipation.

You turned to face him, feeling a jolt of electricity shoot through your veins as your eyes met. His gaze was intense, yet inviting, pulling you into a world of possibilities. "Surprise me," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the clamor of the bar.

With a mischievous grin, Javy flagged down the bartender. You couldn't hear what it was that he ordered, but before long, two stemmed cocktail glasses filled with a vibrant purple liquid garnished with a lemon peel and a deep red cherry were set down in front of you. "Mardi Gras special?" you asked with an eyebrow raise. He laughed as he grabbed both drinks and then nodded his head toward one of the barstools at the very end of the charging station that had just opened up. You hurried over to it before someone else could, sliding onto the barstool almost clumsily. Javy made himself comfortable leaning against the counter beside your stool, facing you. He handed you one of the drinks after you had plugged your dead phone in. Making the conscious decision to enjoy your time with him as much as you could, you placed the screen face down.

"It's called an Aviation, actually."

He looked almost amused as he brought the drink to his lips. You studied him closely as you did the same, letting the flavors of the gin and lemon dance on your tastebuds.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"It's delicious."

"I'm glad you like it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He watched you intently, and you didn't miss the way his eyes flickered to your lips when you licked away a stray drop of the liquid when you took another sip. The air crackled with tension, and you had to fight the urge to lean closer to him. He cleared his throat, looking away momentarily. You tampered down the shiver that threatened to run through you.

"So why'd you leave New Orleans?" you asked, breaking the silence.

"Work," he explained."I'm in the Navy, so I've lived all over the place."

"The Navy, huh?"

He hummed in confirmation.That glint in his eyes that made you feel like you were missing something was back, and your eyes narrowed in curiosity. "And what do you do in the Navy?"

A smirk played on his lips. He tried to cover it by taking another sip of his drink, but you saw right through it. He set the glass down, folding his hands together as he stared at you. "I'm an aviator."

You paused for a beat, looking down at the purple drink before looking back at him, the joke you had been missing clicking into place in your head.

"Okay," you said slowly, and Javy was already chuckling from his spot beside you. "I see what you did here."

His laughter was loud, but not obnoxiously so, instead surrounding you like a comforting warmth. You couldn't help but join in with him, your giggles blending seamlessly with his.

The atmosphere around you seemed to fade into the background as the two of you talked, the conversation flowing easily between you. The more you learned about Javy, the more intrigued you became. His passion for flying was evident in every word he spoke, and it was contagious. You found yourself hanging onto his every word, mesmerized by his experiences and adventures. And when you spoke, he listened with genuine interest, occasionally interjecting with laughter or witty remarks. The more you talked, the more drawn you felt to him. There was something about his easy charm and attentive nature that made you feel seen and understood.

Eventually, your phone buzzed with a notification, indicating that it had finally regained some charge. Reluctantly, you flipped it over and glanced at the screen. Reading through the few messages that you missed in the chat, you snorted in disbelief. "My sister and three of her bridesmaids started throwing up at the last bar they went to."

"Yikes," Javy winced. "Are they okay?"

Your heart fluttered at the concern he showed for people he didn't even know. Damn damn damn.

"They're fine," you assured him with a small smile. "The other two have already dragged them back to the hotel to sleep it off. Guess the night is over."

You felt sad as you said the words. The night had started a shit show, but talking to Javy had turned it around. You weren't really ready for it to come to an end just yet.

As you reached to unplug your phone, Javy's hand gently clasped yours, halting your movement. "You don't need to rush off just yet," he said softly, his warm gaze holding yours. "Why don't you come hang out with me and my friends instead?"

You looked at him in surprise, shocked by the offer.

"Don't you think your best friend will be mad that I'm crashing his bachelor party?"

"Not even a little bit," he assured you. "They're all good guys, I promise."

You chewed on your bottom lip as you contemplated.

You knew that you should decline. Going off with a group of strangers in a city you barely knew didn't exactly scream "intelligent decision." Still, you found that you wanted to take him up on it.

Reading the apprehension on your face, Javy continued on, more eager now as he tried to convince you. "Look, as a Louisiana boy, I can't bring myself to allow you to leave New Orleans without actually enjoying yourself. You deserve to have a good time." His hand settled on yours again and squeezed gently. When he spoke, he was shyer than he had been all night. "And if I'm being honest with myself...the last thirty minutes with you have been the highlight of my trip home, and that's saying something. I'm not really ready for it to end yet."

His words sent a shiver down your spine. You gazed into his eyes, searching for any hint of deceit or ulterior motive. But all you found was sincerity and an excitement that you felt flicker in you, too. Against your better judgment, you nodded. You were tired of playing by the rules, tired of always being the responsible one. Maybe tonight could be different.

"Alright," you conceded, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Lead the way."

Javy's grin widened, and he intertwined his fingers with yours before guiding you out of the crowded bar. The night air hit you with a welcome change as you followed him through the lively streets.

His friends waited at a bar just a few blocks away. As you approached, their laughter and boisterous conversation spilled onto the sidewalk. When they saw Javy walking hand in hand with you, their eyes widened with surprise. Almost instantly, the cat calls started.

Javy rolled his eyes, and you couldn't help but laugh lightly as you leant against him. "Yeah, yeah. Knock it off."

He introduced you to each of his friends amongst their teasing. They were a rowdy group, and it wasn't hard to see how much they cared for each other. The camaraderie instantly calmed you.

It was surprisingly easy, letting yourself have fun with this group of strangers. They accepted your presence like it was nothing, involving you in every conversation and debate they had, and within a few hours, you felt like you had known them for a lot longer than you really had. The night continued on, a whirlwind of pretty purple drinks and colorful masks and exuberant laughter. Vibrant jazz music reverberated through the air, the streets full of purple, gold and green chaos. You could feel the pulsating energy of the city surging through you, and this is exactly why you had always wanted to come here.

At some point, Javy grabbed your hand, beckoning you to dance with him. You giggled happily as he twirled you. The world around you melted away, leaving only the pulsating music and the warmth of his touch. You were tipsy from all the alcohol and the thrill of an unexpected night with a man who made you feel something no one else ever has. You wished it wouldn’t have to end.

“Me either,” he said, making you realize you had said that out loud. But instead of feeling embarrassed at your slip, you giggled and leant into him further.

“I mean it,” you insisted. Javy’s smile had become familiar to you tonight, and the butterflies erupted in your stomach just as they had the last few hours when he flashed it in your direction. “You know, you’d make the perfect wedding date, if only you didn’t live so far away.”

He hummed in what you thought was agreement, but didn’t say anything. The look he gave you was contemplative, like there was something he was trying to figure out. “What?” you asked.

“When’s the wedding?”

You threw your head back in laughter, realizing what he was getting at. “Still a few months away. You’ll have completely forgotten about me by then, I’m sure.”

Javy's eyes sparkled as he pulled you even closer, his hand still holding yours tightly. "Oh, I highly doubt that," he replied, and the way his voice dropped sent shivers down your spine. "Seriously. When's the wedding?"

"The second weekend in May."

"If I'm not deployed, I'll be there."

You shook your head in disbelief as more giggles escaped, completely enraptured by this man. "Sure, Javy."

His smile softened and he raised a hand to cup your face, and you couldn't help but instinctively lean into his touch as his thumb brushed your skin. "I mean it. I want to be there. With you." You searched his eyes for a long moment, searching for anything other than the sincerity and tenderness staring back at you. You felt a rush of emotions when you found none. In that moment, looking at you the way that he was, he felt like so much more than just a stranger you met on a wild night out in New Orleans.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you raised on your toes and pressed your lips against his.

The kiss was soft at first, gentle and sweet, but it quickly deepened into something more passionate. For a moment, you hesitated, wondering if this was the right thing to do, but then you realized that you didn't care. You found yourself lost in him, and everything else faded away. All of the tension that had been building between the two of you that night was pushed into this one moment. You nearly stumbled at the intensity, but Javy just pulled you closer and kissed you harder. He tasted like gin and lemons and cherry from the purple drink you both had been drinking all night, and you realized it tasted even better from him.

Finally, the two of you broke apart, both panting heavily. You gazed at each other as you tried to catch your breath. Your heart was pounding in your chest as he brushed some of your hair out of your face.

You swallowed thickly before speaking, your voice trembling just slightly. "I want you there, too," you said, and you knew it was crazy, but you also knew you meant it.

A slow grin spread across his face, and before you could say anything else, Javy's lips were back on yours.

----------

Main Masterlist

Notes: I'm kind of feeling a part two? Maybe? I'm actually so in love with this man, it's unreal.

Thanks to @thedroneranger for the incredible banner, and to @roosterforme @mak-32 for their help, and to @sylviebell for catching an embarrassing amount of typos after I thought I was already done editing

#alli writes #javy coyote machado x reader #javy machado #javy machado imagine #javy machado x reader #javy coyote machado #javy machado fic #javy machado x you #javy coyote machado x you #javy coyote machado x oc #coyote x you #coyote x reader #javy machado appreciation

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johnwickb1tsch · 9 months ago

Text

Tex Johnson x Witness!Reader x John Wick Imagine Part 1 by @treedaddymcpuffpuff @sweetwolfcupcake and @johnwickb1tsch GIF credits to @scarlettspectra ❤

What unholy fuckery is this, you ask? It's a round robin fic! And we're consolidating our parts here for your reading pleasure...

Summary: Imagine you're a witness in a high profile FBI case against the mafia and hitmen John Wick and Tex Johnson are competing for the contract on you. After some serious fighting and car chases in the end they just decide to fake your death and keep you for themselves...🤫 Original Post

Warnings: So many dead doves! Don't eat! Unless you like dead doves, that is. Violence, sexual content, blood, murder, kidnapping, possessive behavior, yandere sh!t...it's all here! Please take care! 😘

johnwickb1tsch:

In the beginning Tex plays with you, chatting you up in the local diner of the po-dunk town witness protection has stashed you in. You're so cute, he just can't help himself. He peppers you with "darlin's" and sly winks and usually you would tell someone hitting on you like this to fuck off, but... You can tell he's a little wild but he's so heart-stoppingly handsome and there's something infectious in the devil-may-care way he smiles at you with a mischievous glitter in his dark eyes. That down-home accent does things to you that shouldn't be mentioned in polite company. You actually like him, so it's an EXTRA shock when it turns out he's there to kill you...

treedaddymcpuffpuff: And you’re just so sweet and cute and funny and fiery - just his type. And he’s just gonna make it quick and painless at first, but then you’re so entertaining that he wants to fuck with you for a while. Maybe even fuck you before he puts a bullet in your smart little head. John Wick just flat out wants to kill you as soon as possible. Get it over with. At least at first. But, he’s John Wick, let’s be for real. And you’re just an innocent bystander who saw too much (and you volunteer at the local animal shelter and you always give out money to homeless people and you’re just an all around sweetheart, damn you), so John is gonna decide to say fuck his task (big shocker) and save you from Tex instead.

johnwickb1tsch:

You are incredibly lonely and bored in the little town you’ve been stuck in. You usually keep to yourself, as per your FBI handler’s warnings. But you’re having such a good time, when Tex asks if you want to go for a ride in his incredibly hot vintage muscle car…you ignore every bit of good sense you have left to your name, and agree. He thinks this is hilarious, of course. And…kind of endearing. Here you are, just eatin’ out of the palm of his hand like he’s not some kind of monster.

So…you go for a ride, and you don’t get too alarmed when Tex heads out of town. He can’t show off what this baby can do in the city limits, after all… But when there’s an explosion, the front tire going flat, and you have to pull over in the middle of nowhere, you start to get worried. When Tex gets out to see the tire’s been shot out…and he pulls a gun, looking around—you start to realize you made a HUGE fucking mistake. You get out of the car, thinking this would be a great time to go elsewhere. He tries to grab you, but you knee him in the crotch! 👈 @treedaddymcpuffpuff 🤭

Just your luck, here comes another vehicle speeding down the road. Wow, there are a lot of muscle cars on the road today. This one is dark gray, with black racing stripes. You try to flag him down—but change your mind when a hand extends out the window holding a gun, and he opens fire on Tex. You, understandably, duck for cover while screaming as the firefight ensues around you. Then suddenly strong hands are grabbing you up—and throwing you in the trunk... Dun dun dun! 😈🤣

sweetwolfcupcake: Now, that's a shitty situation. That's all you can think before you begin to scream for help. But who would be there in an isolated road, ready to go against two armed men? You can barely see the man shoving you into the trunk when another round of fire starts. The man backs off to pull his gun back, but that is enough time for you to slip put. Staggering on your feet. To your relief, it is tge familiar car. Your FBI handler! "Oh God, oh God!" You cry out in tears of part relief and part terror. How could you be so stupid? Following a stranger into his car?

treedaddymcpuffpuff:

Ah, your FBI case handler. He’s a tough guy. Trustworthy. Scrappy. You know he’ll protect you even though you really hate being a damsel in distress because fuck that trope. Except mystery man (JOHNNY BOY) shoots him in the kneecap faster than FBI man can blink or say “mercy”.

And then Tex grabs you and points a loaded Glock at your head, grinning that shark toothed grin that not too long ago was making you giggle like a schoolgirl. And now it’s just making you hyperventilate and practically piss yourself in fear.

And here you are, the bargaining chip in a game of who dies first with three grown men fighting over you.

Johnwickb1tsch: “Well well. Ain’t this a sticky situation?” calls out Tex, taking cover behind his car, an arm wrapped firmly around your shoulders with that fucking gun to your head. The barrel digs into your temple painfully. “Asshole,” you growl under your breath. At a volume just for you he says, “Now, now, darlin’, don’t be sore.” “I actually liked you.” “I like you too. But your pretty head is worth a fuck ton o’ dinero. It’s a shame, sweetheart, but it ain’t lookin’ good for you.” Tears start streaming down your cheeks as the hopelessness of the situation really settles down on you. “Then why don’t you just shoot me now?” “That’s a helluva suggestion. You’re not very good at this game, are you?” “It’s not a game, you bastard.” “Sure it is.” Then in a louder voice he calls out, “Hey, John! Been a long time.” There’s a long pause before you hear from the other side of the dark muscle car, “Yeah.” “Whattya say we split the bounty, call it even stevens?” “I don’t want the girl dead.” This actually, if not stupidly, inspires some hope in you. But then if he was here to rescue you…why did he shoot your FBI agent? Tex actually laughs about this. The feeling of his broad chest moving behind you is…distracting. “Now that’s interesting! How do you propose we go about that?” “I kill you both and take her with me,” is this John’s deadpan response. He sounds so…certain that he can accomplish this. It’s kind of hot, if you’re being honest. You like the part about you not being dead, but the rest… “Hey now, that’s not nice,” answers Tex, and you can tell he’s smiling as he says it. “And you forget about this big ol’ gun I got pressed to her head.” “If you kill her, I’m going to kill you.” “Anyone ever tell you you’re a one trick pony, John?” “Yeah.” “How bout this. For old time’s sakes. Remember how it was that time in Tijuana?” “I was extremely drunk.” Tex chuckles at this, some fond old memory, and your heart is slowly sinking little by little all the way to your feet. “Well, I seem to remember you don’t mind sharing. I could live with that.” The silence on this deserted road stretches on as John considers this. “And after? The girl lives?” “Sure, sure. We fake her death, take the money. She can go her way, and we go ours.” “We’ll have to kill Dmitri Nobokov.” “He’s an asshole anyway.” “Deal.” You are shocked when Tex releases you so suddenly you fall into a pile on the ground. What the fuck were they even talking about?? Sharing…you??! Moving in tandem, you watch as the two dangerous men close in on Agent Bradford. You hear shots, and you fear the worst. In the end you find yourself sitting on the ground, quivering like a terrified lump of jell-0, with two tall, stupidly handsome, mafia assassins looming over you. “Are you guys…brothers, or something?” Frowning, they look at each other. Tex in his denim and John in his smart black suit. “What?” “No.” They reach down for you, and you find yourself locked in the trunk, again.

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

You don’t see the need for the rope binding your wrists behind your back, or the tether on the ankles. Overkill, much?

Maybe they think you actually pose a challenge? Well, that’s nice of them, but even you’re not blimp-headed enough to think you can take on two taller, bigger, combat ready men. Plus, Tex lifted you like you were a goddamn sack of pillow stuffing.

You’re more convinced by the minute this is all just meant to humiliate you - the bondage, the trunk, the fucking slinging you over a shoulder and making casual conversation about how they’re going to pull off your death.

Which makes you seethe because you didn’t fucking do anything. And, poor Bradford, with the family and the kids.. well, probably, you don’t actually know about his personals. That doesn’t change the fact he was a living, breathing human - once - who was just trying to keep you safe.

You have to do something, so you don’t make it easy for them - you kick, squirm, bite. You get a big chunk of the nameless one’s hand in your mouth and latch on like a little boa, and he doesn’t even seem bothered. He just sighs, pinches your nose shut until you have to let go.

“Now, darlin’,” Tex coos, too close to your ear for comfort, “we gotta gag you, too?”

“I hate you,” you spit.

Tex sifts the prickly rope through his hands, fast, big fingers way too agile, snaps it taut, chuckles like he was hoping you’d say something bitchy. And watching that debauched show should have not made your insides give an abrupt, furious clench. But it just does.

“Guess that’s a yes,” he sighs.

Johnwickb1tsch:

When the blade comes out is when you really start to panic. They debated for what felt like hours about what was the best way to drain your fucking blood. Something about staging your death, burning Agent Bradford's body in his car, leaving some of your blood and hair at the scene.

Jesus fucking christ, how has your life come to this?

When you feel Tex's rough hand on your arm, inspecting your anatomy for a vein, you start to cry. You couldn't be more surprised, than when you feel a soft touch in your cheek. "Hey, it's going to be alright. We just need a little." It's the intense one. John. He doesnt say much, but you get the feeling he could burn down the world with that anthracite gaze.

Still, you whimper when you feel the cool blade on your skin. "Don't hurt her," warns John, his voice not so gentle for Tex, filled with warning.

"I'm not," insists the one behind you. You feel a sting, but somehow, he was telling the truth. You feel the warm drip of your blood oozing down your arm. They're catching it in a 7-11 cup. How...decorous.

"Really, you should be thanking us," drawls Tex. "We saved your life."

Your exclamation of "Are you fucking kidding me?" is muffled by the scratchy rope in your mouth.

Tex gets it though, and grins. "That's right. It was an open contract, darlin'. If we didn't find you, someone else would have. Someone not so nice."

John tilts his head slightly in agreement.

"How did you find out where the Federal Bureau of Incompetence was keepin' her, Wick?"

"A mole." It's the only shred of hope you have.

"What a coincidence."

Bradford was a good man. You at least know it wasn't him.

Even though you're tied up, you are so relieved when they finally go. However, it seems like they're not gone long before they return to the secluded hideout. They are not happy. Apparently, Bradford's body was gone from the scene. He could still be out there, looking for you.

sweetwolfcupcake: Hope flared within you, and it might have shown, unfortunately. You felt fingers grab your chin-- firm, not painful(for now). "Don't be so quick to sigh. Finding him is a child's play for us. And then we kill him." Tex' cold stare greeted her. Though a biting reply remained at the tip of your tongue, you knew better than to piss them off. Your life was still in their hands, after all. "I have made the arrangements." The other man approached them, he was on call for a while. He glanced at you and sighed. His eyes found Tex before he nodded. You frowned as your mind raced with possibilities, but it was only for a moment before you felt a sharp, sudden pain at the back of your head and your eyes rolled back. "You were supposed to go for the vein, not hit her!" John hissed, cradling your lolled head in his hands. " Remind me next time." Tex rolled his eyes, no sign of remorse visible. With his jaws tensed, John let your head rest and got to work. There were a lot of things to take care of-- faking your death, for example.

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

When they go, they don’t even give you hope of escape - they bind you tight to a cushiony blue chair with wooden legs and arms, expertly looping ropes around and across. It would be really hot, how they move together flawlessly and work the rope like it’s a good friend, if they weren’t making sure you couldn’t move a damn inch in the process. Oh, who are you kidding? Despite your rage and fear and sorrow, your panties are still completely soaked watching big hands and bulging veins and sinew and tendon.

And now you’re highly uncomfortable, trying to squirm and getting absolutely nowhere. You’re trussed up like a thanksgiving turkey, and then they leave. Just fucking leave. How. Dare. They.

When they get back, you’ve got drool running down and soaking your shirt, neck and chin. You’re sweaty, disheveled, uncomfortable. Despite being left to your sparse devices, the arousal has just gotten worse. Because you’ve been alone with your imagination - which has been preoccupied with two very beautiful men - and you’re fucking aching. Seeing them again makes it so much worse… are they laughing, getting along? Some inside joke. Fucking rat bastards

And they’re touching you and examining you and talking about you like you are the actual thanksgiving turkey. Unconsciousness actually feels like a great relief. It’s probably the best thing that’s happened so far.

John cuts your hair and takes some skin from a place that will heal quickly. They untie you, put your limp body back in the trunk - John does this, too, being very gentle with you, carrying you bridal style instead of over his shoulder like some caveman. He checks your pulse, makes sure your oxygenation is okay, and then does what Tex should have and injects your vein with a heavy sedative to keep you knocked.

“Ya know, I kinda liked her better when she was alive and biting the shit out of you,” Tex muses as he and John slide into the car. “She’s cute, huh? Kinda tight, just needs loosened up a little bit.” Tex raises a suggestive eyebrow and John glares him down.

“Lighten up, addle-pot,” Tex replies to John’s heavy silence.

sweetwolfcupcake: The sensation of the jerking increased along with the pain at the back of her head. It hurt. The throbbing continued as she gulped-- her throat burned. The discomfort urged her to open her heavy eyes faster. Her vision was hazy but she could make out the interiors of a car. She blinked slowly. They were silent, except for occasional whispered comments from Tex and one-word answers from the other man who looked exactly like Tex but had a distinct aura, some kind of energy that sent chills down her spine. It was like being in the presence of a dangerous creature with barely contained primitiveness. He looked more refined and spoke with a tone and way that suggested quality. And yet...and yet something in the back of her mind would be ready for a fight or flight response in his presence. If anything, he had been comparatively nicer to her. Tex was a jerk in every annoying sense-- but she could dare to have a verbal spat with Tex, and give him a fitting reply. The other man though... She had not realized that she had been starring at them until a hand reached out for her from the front seat. "She's awake." A voice gently declared. Fingers touched her cheeks gently and she knew that it was the other man. Even with swimming sight, she could tell that the car was speeding through and the other man's gaze was set on her form laying on the backseat. Only if... Only if she had been smarter, and not blindly trusted a stranger--- she wouldn't be in this mess, Bradford was her only hope now, he had proven his capabilities to her time and again and she knew that he was out there, trying to track her down. She only hoped that he was well, alive, and he knew that she was alive as well.

tbc...

#john wick #tex johnson #tex johnson x you #tex johnson x reader #john wick x you #john wick x reader #yandere john wick #yandere tex johnson #wicked johnson fic

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sleepinthrumyalarms · 2 years ago

Text

— hard to keep my cool

pairing: wednesday addams x fem!oni!reader

warnings: none

summary: an addams is never jealous – simply protective over what is theirs

word count: 2.7k

“Alright, so... a quad? Want me to get you anything else?” (Y/n) asked as she fetched her wallet out of her fanny pack as soon as the girls entered the café, ever the gentlewoman.

“No. Thank you.” The ravenette replied distractedly, her gaze gliding around the room in search for a vacant table.

Weathervane was seldom ever bustling with customers. It had nothing to do with the popularity of the place, of course, rather with how small the Jericho town actually was – you could catch a number customers filling the space on weekends, but it was never any sort of busy. Maybe that was why (Y/n) always chose it as a perfect date spot, however cliché it may’ve been, and the coffee shop had soon become a familiar place, with the demon girl and her morbid dark – haired partner earning the title of regulars there.

Today was no different. It was a nice warm Saturday afternoon and after taking a small walk around the town and laying on the grass under a tree to enjoy the sun, or rather escape from its scorching presence, as a certain someone would put it, the girls had decided to stop by Weathervane.

As (Y/n) stood in the queue, she watched Wednesday settle into their favorite booth in the corner, close to the window but still a bit secluded thanks to the wall it abutted to. Gently straightening her uniform skirt with a few pats, the girl reached for her small backpack to fish out the book she had been in the middle of reading back at the dorm before she had been so rudely interrupted by the hectic oni who barged in with a huge toothy grin and a sudden daft offer to go on a date.

The thought itself had been revolting to the girl, and she had made sure it had been evident on her face, and yet she had agreed. It had nothing to do with the way (Y/n) had smiled at her, of course, or the way the demon’s slitted eyes had glistened with gentleness and adoration – and also with the way said slits had become pits of pure void, like those of a wild feline stalking its prey, in complete submission to the hunting thrill, as the oni girl had watched Wednesday, awaiting her verdict. None of that, thank you. She simply had nothing better to do with her day.

The ravenette opened the hard cover to find where she left off, content with tuning out the quiet chatter surrounding her, and (Y/n) watched the way the sun’s rays grazed the ravenette’s cheeks, making the gentle sprinkle of freckles stand out on her pale complexion. The demon titled her head, a goofy smile on her face as she observed the girl with adoration – what did she do to deserve her?

“Good afternoon! What can I get you today?”

The oni gave a small startled start, and turned to look at the barista behind the counter – a tall normie blonde girl with a pierced nose and a tattoo on her neck, whom (Y/n) certainly didn’t remember. The tag clipped to her dark – crimson apron read ‘Chloe’, and now the demon was certain she was new.

Well... she’d settle for anyone over Galpin.

“Hi. Uh, just a (insert your usual) and a quad over ice for here,” (Y/n) chuckled upon noticing the barista’s confused expression, “Yeah, it’s four shots of espresso... with ice.”

“That must be the most bitter order I’ll ever make,” the barista shook her head, visibly amused, her pen quickly scribbling over the paper as she wrote the order down, “Anything else?”

The demon’s gaze trailed over to the confections showcase, and she crouched, eyeing the sweet goodies. Among the bright cheesecakes, cookies and milky cake pops displayed she caught sight of a small black cupcake with white skull-shaped sprinkles sitting further away from the glass, practically calling out for her.

Oh, what a perfect little thing.

“And this little goth buddy too, please.” (Y/n) smiled, pointing at the cupcake, careful not to scratch the freshly cleaned surface with her clawed finger.

“That’ll be 7.15. You really are into bitter stuff, aren’t you?” the barista noted, “That’s dark chocolate, you know.”

“Courtesy of my girlfriend’s passionate hate for sugary things.” The demon counted the needed money, handing a 10-dollar banknote over to the barista whose smile seemed to waver a bit but didn’t slip off. The young woman took the green bill, her fingers subtly grazing (Y/n)’s, and moved to count the change.

“So, you go to Nevermore, huh?” she asked, eyeing the oni up and down and noticing a familiar emblem on her jacket, “Isn’t that, like, a school for total weirdos or something?”

(Y/n) grinned, baring her big crooked tusks at the barista, the demon’s brows furrowed in mock disbelief and offence, “Do I not seem like a total weirdo to you?”

The girl laughed, “That depends... Are all of you weirdos this cute?” she asked, smiling flirtatiously, “The teeth are adorable, too. In a way.”

The demon’s grin turned nervous, and she chuckled, lowering her eyes bashfully, “Uh, thanks. That’s not something people say often.”

‘People’ didn’t include her gloomy other half, of course. She remembered the first time they had met, and how slightly intrusive Wednesday had been about her appearance then, but not in a judging, put-off or rude way. It was mere... interest, fascination-like, and (Y/n) couldn’t even try and feel self-conscious where the Addams girl was concerned. Wednesday observed the demon like one would an alien work of art, finding the slight abstractness and monstrosity intriguing.

The ravenette loved her in a way no one else ever could.

The sudden beeping sound of the coffee machine broke the oni out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see the blonde barista slide the glass open to grab the cute black cupcake, placing it on a small plate next to the now filled up cups. Then she took her disposable gloves off, and grabbed her pen to quickly write something down on the receipt with a sly smile, then folded the paper together with the change and handed it to the demon.

“Incase you’d need someone to... sweeten things up a bit.” She said, winking.

(Y/n) raised an eyebrow, completely oblivious, “Uh... Thanks?”

Grabbing the receipt and the food, she made her way back to the booth just in time for Wednesday to subtly glance back at her book as if she had been engrossed in it the whole time, making a show of not paying attention to the other girl.

“Here,” the demon placed Wednesday’s cup and the cupcake on the table in front of her, sliding into the seat next to the small ravenette and pressing a quick peck to her cheek, “Got you something tasty to snack on, too.”

Putting the book away from her eyes, Wednesday eyed the cupcake suspiciously before looking up at (Y/n), “What is this?”

“A cupcake! Look how pretty it is,” the taller girl gushed, pointing at the sprinkles, “Cute little skulls! It matches your aesthetic perfectly, I thought you’d like it.”

Wednesday squinted, glaring at the pastry with disgust thinly veiled, before burying her nose back in her book, “What a revolting assumption.”

Long since used to the ravenette’s emotional range, (Y/n) shrugged, taking no offence at her indifference, “Suit yourself. You don’t have to eat it.” She said, casually taking a sip of her drink and reaching to take the plate away.

A small pale hand darted over to the dish, and the demon girl watched, grinning behind her cup, as Wednesday quickly moved the cupcake closer to herself, “No, it’s mine. Back off.”

“Sorry, sorry,” the oni raised her hand in mock surrender, “I thought you said you didn’t want it.”

“You must be hearing things then.” Wednesday mumbled, carefully unwrapping the pastry and taking a small bite, munching on it like a grumpy mouse.

Leaning her cheek on her fist, the demon watched the girl eat, admiration lacing her expression, “So? How’s it?”

The ravenette swallowed with a frown, a small blush dusting her cheeks, and quickly averted her gaze, “It’s... tolerable. Thank you, (Y/n).” She replied quietly.

“No problem. I’m glad you like it.”

Wednesday took another bite, letting her taste buds savor the delicious bitter chocolate, then looked up at the oni girl, “Would you... Would you like to try?” she asked hesitantly, making (Y/n)’s grin widen.

“Sure.”

The smaller girl watched as the demon leaned in, burying her big teeth in the cupcake still in Wednesday’s hands, careful not to bite too much of the pastry off, before leaning back to chew with a thoughtful look. A small grunt escaped the demon’s mouth as she pursed her lips, shaking her head.

“Yuck. Too bitter for me. I like the sprinkles, though.” She spoke with her mouth full.

“Swallow before speaking, you chocolate connoisseur.”

(Y/n) barked out a laugh, startling some of the coffee shop’s patrons, then raised her hand to her mouth, the sharp tip of her rough tongue slithering out to lick her thumb, “Hold up,” she said, moving to gently brush the now wet finger against the corner of Wednesday’s burgundy lips, carefully cleaning off a smudge of dark cream, “There. You had some on your face.”

The demon could swear she could see gears working in Wednesday’s head before she put the cupcake back on the plate and grabbed (Y/n) by the lapels of her uniform jacket suddenly, tugging her down and pressing her lips against the oni’s.

(Y/n) let out a small muffled gasp of surprise but didn’t resist, closing her eyes and instantly melting into the kiss, tasting chocolate on Wednesday’s plush mouth. Before the sweet smooch could turn into a full make out session, the small ravenette pulled away.

“There. Now you’ve got some on your face, too.” A small devilish smile made its way to Wednesday’s face as the demon blushed, caught off - guard.

As (Y/n) busied herself with trying to cool her cheeks off, the color still evident on the demon’s complexion despite her attempts at hiding it, Wednesday sneaked a glance at the girl behind the counter, and caught her watching the ravenette already. As their gazes met, Wednesday’s turned into a dark unnerving glare, and she stared at the barista, unblinking. The other girl squinted, scoffing, before turning back to the coffee machine.

That’s right. Know your place.

(Y/n) sat in the booth, twiddling her phone in her hands, desperate to pass the time as she stared out the window longingly, waiting for her girlfriend to come. When they had made it to Jericho an hour ago, Wednesday proposed they split in order to finish their business quicker – the ravenette claimed she needed ink for her typewriter and some other things she was sure (Y/n) would get bored of looking for, and, albeit reluctantly, the demon had agreed to part ways. After some time spent wandering the streets and visiting some shops, the oni ended up at Weathervane, and now, with zero ways to communicate with Wednesday, she was left waiting for her where they had agreed to meet up.

(Y/n) watched people pass by on the street and sighed when she didn’t recognize any of them as the short dark – haired girlfriend. She turned back to check the time, contemplating getting something to drink while she was there, when a cheery voice called out.

“Hey!”

The sudden sound made the demon look up, and she saw a familiar blonde girl make way to her booth, a grin on her face.

“Oh, uh, hi. Chloe, was it?” (Y/n) said with uncertainty.

“Yep. You never told me your name though,” the girl faked a pout, and moved to slide into the seat next to the demon, making the taller girl freeze uncomfortably, “Just like you never texted me! I was waiting, you know.”

“Uh... Was I supposed to?”

“Would’ve been nice. It’s okay though, I’m rather experienced with those who play hard-to-get,” Chloe chuckled, her eyes trailing down as she seemingly checked the demon out, and (Y/n) could feel an angry vein pulse at her forehead, “So, what are you doing here all by yourself, hm?”

“I’m with my girlfriend, actually.” The demon replied through gritted teeth.

“Oh, really?” The blonde smirked, leaning closer to the demon, “I don’t see her.”

Before the oni could utter a reply, a pale hand landed on Chloe’s shoulder, gripping painfully and making the girl squeal and turn her head to look at the culprit.

“Excuse me. This is my seat.”

Wednesday was looming over the blonde, her gaze unsettling as she stared down at the other girl, practically drilling her with her eyes.

“And this,” her manicured fingers sunk into her with strength almost enough to puncture the flesh, “Is mia donna.”

“What the hell?!” the blonde exclaimed, wringing her shoulder out of Wednesday’s hold to get up, her frame towering over the ravenette’s smaller one, “What’s your fucking problem?”

“My problem is with an annoying little rodent who touches what clearly doesn’t belong to her,” Wednesday deadpanned, tilting her head in a rather menacing way, “And do you know what a rodent is? A pest. Pests get exterminated.”

Feeling the situation escalate, (Y/n) was quick to rise from her seat as well, afraid of what might happen to the blonde if she didn’t intervene, “Uh... ‘Day, we really shouldn’t – “

“Sit down, (Y/n).”

Wednesday’s stern timbre made the demon girl land back on the couch obediently without a single retort, hands on her lap. Yep. She valued her own life more.

Thankfully, the piercing glare and the murderous aura of the small ravenette seemed to make the blonde rethink some of her decisions, as she scoffed and moved to walk past Wednesday, pushing her with her shoulder, “Whatever. I don’t even want to bother with you.”

Wednesday watched the girl go back to her counter, then turned to look at (Y/n), looking calm and collected once again as if nothing had happened, “I’m done with my errands. Are you ready to go?”

The demon nodded mutely, too afraid to speak, and got up to follow the ravenette out of the coffee shop.

The walk back to the bus stop was quiet. Wednesday looked like she was lost in thought, and (Y/n) didn’t want to intrude – but there was worry nagging at her gut. Inching closer to the small girl, she reached her hand out to lightly graze her fingers over Wednesday’s palm, making her flinch. Wednesday stared at her hand for a moment, then slowly moved to entwine her digits with (Y/n)’s, her eyes never meeting the oni’s.

(Y/n) smiled, giving a gentle affectionate squeeze, “What’s on your mind, snookums?”

Wednesday was silent for a moment, and when she finally spoke, her voice was unusually quiet, “I never seem to deal with how much you’re on... demand with girls. While it doesn’t exactly make me feel insecure, it is... bothering me. A little bit.”

“Well, first of all, there’s no demand. You’re the one to talk, too,” the demon girl chuckled, recalling the bitter – sweet memories of her pathetic pining after the ravenette, “And second of all, what girls are we talking about here? I only ever see one. A talented, intelligent, murderously gorgeous girl who tore my bleeding heart out of my ribcage and has been holding it in her palms ever since.”

The heart – felt statement made Wednesday look up, and her grey eyes met (Y/n)’s. Fondness swirled in the (e/c) pools, and the ravenette felt that awful sensation of butterflies crawl into her stomach, almost making her double over. She quickly averted her gaze, red warming her cheeks.

“You seem to be experiencing some terrible vision problems. Maybe we should make you an appointment with an ophthalmologist.” She muttered grumpily, making the oni laugh at the half – hearted insult.

As they kept walking, Wednesday reached her hand still holding (Y/n)’s up to her face and pressed her lips against the back of the demon's palm. When she pulled away, there was a rather noticeable dark mark of her lipstick left on the oni’s skin, and a satisfied smile made its way to Wednesday’s face at the sight.

Mine.

#wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday #wednesday imagine #wednesday x fem reader

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stormysunday9 · 2 months ago

Text

I've been editing this for too long now and I just need to put it out into the world. The ending doesn't feel quite right...but maybe that's because this story just isn't done yet!

Featuring: happy Joe, some 18+ stuff, and a bit of cheese.

The Missing Piece

I was now five blocks from work and the man who had stepped out behind me after I locked the door was still following closely behind me.

I started to panic, I was at least another ten blocks from home. It was starting to get dark. I was 5'5 and all I had to protect me was my lunch bag and the yogurt I didn't eat. My heart was pounding. I didn't need to turn around to see him, I could sense him there.

This was a pretty affluent neighbourhood, maybe I could just pretend I lived here. I walked past a couple more homes, then started the journey up one of the long driveways, not daring to look behind me. When I reached the front door, I pretended to unlock it, hoping I'd sold my story to my creepy shadow. When I twisted the knob, the door opened easily, and since I was no longer thinking clearly I just stepped inside.

After a moment of relief from being off the street and into safety, I looked up to see a very tall man standing in front of me with a look of both shock and concern fleeting over his icy blue eyes.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so so sorry! There was a man, I don't know, he's been following me since I left work! I still have so far to go, I was getting scared, I didn't know what to do, your door was unlocked, I didn't mean to come in...." I was still tripping over my words as the man placed his hands on my shoulders and tried to meet my wild eyes .

"Hey, hey." He said firmly but calmly. "It's ok, you're ok. I know, I saw him on the camera, he was following you up the drive. Do you want me to call the police?"

"No, I don't think so. I don't know. I didn't even get a good look at him." I replied. "Do you mind if I sit down?" I asked embarrassingly, the adrenaline was fading and I felt like I might fall over.

"Yes of course", he ushered me to the couch, "and my security camera, I have a clear shot of him on there."

"Oh smart. Ya I can get an image from there then, I'll file a report tomorrow. I'm so sorry for all this." My head was finally starting to stop spinning and my heart slowing down, allowing me to take in my surroundings a bit more clearly. This was a very nice house. Very clean. No clutter. I looked over my shoulder to see him coming back from the kitchen.

He carefully sat down near me on the couch, being sure to leave a full cushion's worth of space between us. He handed me a glass of water and said, "I'm Joe, by the way."

"Hi Joe", I responded, and took a quick drink of water before adding, "you should really lock your doors."

He let out a chuckle and a grin spread across his face. "Well, in this particular instance, I'm kind of glad I didn't. My manager was supposed to be stopping by, so I left it open."

"Oh my gosh, let me get out of your hair then. I don't want to get you in trouble with work! I just need to call an Uber." I started searching my bag for my phone.

"I would like to drive you home if that's ok. Not sure how many more strange men you should add to this day." He raised an eyebrow at me, presumably waiting to see if I was going to laugh or start crying.

I laughed. "That's very kind, but what about your manager?"

"Don't worry about that, my job is pretty secure," he smiled, "let me grab my keys and my shoes."

I noticed he was wearing slippers currently, slippers which I could only describe as old man slippers. He did seem to have an old soul aura about him. I followed Joe out to his garage, that housed multiple vehicles - a very flashy sports car, a futuristic looking truck, and a Mercedes G Wagon. And it looked like we were taking the latter. He must be some kind of tech mogul, I thought to myself, but what's a tech mogul doing in the middle of Ohio?

When we reached my house, which was about an eighth the size of his, I turned to look at him. I couldn't help but think how warm those cold blue eyes looked.

"Thank you so much, seriously." I said. "You're a real hero."

He chuckled. "Would I be able to give you my number?" He asked.

My wide eyed expression must have given away what I was trying to keep my mouth from saying because Joe immediately spoke up.

"Not like that!" He backtracked shaking his head, "just in case you need more security footage, or a witness statement of something. Or anything at all really. I'm usually around. Except Sundays. I work Sundays."

I handed him my phone and he quickly typed his number in and handed it back to me.

"I'm Casey, by the way" I said as I stepped out of his truck.

"Hi Casey," he smiled.

"Lock your door, Joe!" I yelled over my shoulder as I walked to my front door.

I saw him give me a hand to forehead salute through the passenger window. I walked inside, locked my own door, and peeked out the window, just in time to see him pull away.

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

The next couple days were less eventful. I had security cameras installed at the shop. I filed my police report at the station. And I ordered some bear spray from Amazon. I was glad when the weekend finally rolled around, and on Sunday headed over to my friend Jess' house for our weekend supper tradition. Jess and her husband always hosted, and our other friend Kate and her boyfriend joined, and then me, the obligatory fifth wheel. The boys usually watched football and us girls caught up on gossip and played board games.

The girls and I were playing a very distracted round of Uno while the boys yelled at the game on the TV. I casually glanced over at the TV after being served multiple miss a turns in a row, and what I saw put my heart in my stomach.

Unforgettable icy blue eyes.

"Ummm, who is that, Trevor?" I anxiously asked Jess' husband.

"Joe Burrow.", Trevor replied.

"I can read the screen, Trev, I mean who IS he?"

"The quarterback for the Cincinnati Bengals. And you're a disappointment to the whole state of Ohio for not knowing that."

"Harsh, but ok...and like, he's pretty good? Or what?"

Trevor rolled his eyes and turned to look at me, "ya he's like top three in the league, easy. Why, Case? You finally gonna become a football fan?"

I excused myself from the Uno game that I was never going to win anyway and grabbed my phone from my bag. I searched my contacts. J...O...E...

Joe with the Unlocked Doors.

There he was. And with a sense of humor at that. I opened the contact and began to type.

Wow. Your overconfident sense of job security makes so much sense now!

Presumably he wouldn't be texting back anytime soon. Based on the tv screen he appeared to be rather busy at the moment.

Later that evening I was laying on the couch, working on a bracelet I was making and watching Netflix when my phone lit up.

Shocked Pikachu gif. (Classic choice.) So you're not a football fan then?

I just don't know anything about it. But today I learned Joe Burrow is the quarterback of the Cincinnati Bengals. And that sometimes he leaves his doors unlocked. 🤷‍♀️

Ha! Both of those are true. I'm glad you texted.

It was a shock response.

I'm glad anyway. So now you know what I do, what do you do? Aside from walk into strangers houses, of course.

Cold.

I'm actually a dog groomer. I make pups pretty for a living. I have a little shop on Hudson, which is where I was walking from when I broke into your home.

That's unexpected, and so cool. Love that you've got your own grind.

Well my grind doesn't garner me multiple vehicles in my garage, but I do love it. It only affords me my old Bronco that starts half the time, and not at all in the winter.

Is that why you walk?

Sometimes. But I do like being outside. And "that day" I chose to walk. Looking back, evidently a poor choice.

Maybe not all bad since you met me?

Haha, I dunno, I got to meet the quarterback of an NFL team and didn't even ask for an autograph! 🫤

Funny. Maybe don't think of me as that, just think of me as Joe.

...with the unlocked doors!

Exactly. 😉

We continued to message back and forth, joking and laughing while also learning a bit about one another, when I looked at the time on my phone and couldn't believe how late it had gotten.

I think I better get some shut eye. Early start tomorrow. Nice chatting with you. Goodnight, Joe!

Goodnight, Casey. Sweet dreams.

It took me a while to fall asleep that night. What is happening? He's so nice. And absolutely gorgeous. Now that I could think about him a little more clearly and not in a fear filled state of adrenaline...wow. He had to be a full foot taller than me, with what appeared to be the strength of a Greek god, and the fluffiest, wavy hair that was just being begged to have hands run through it. And a little curl that kept falling onto his forehead no matter how many times he pushed it back. And those eyes...oh my gosh those eyes.

Pull yourself together, Casey! I scolded myself. I was being ridiculous. And I needed some sleep, it was back to my not so lucrative grind tomorrow.

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

Monday morning I was back in my element. The Bronco started, my first dogs of the day were settled on the floor around me, my coffee was just right. Maybe it would be a good week. With my headphones on, and high velocity dryer blasting, I almost didn't hear someone walk through the door. I looked up, startled so see a man with a hoodie pulled over his head and wrap around sunglasses on his face. He must have seen the fear in my eyes as he immediately reached up to push the hood off his head and replace it with his sunglasses.

Joe.

I felt my face flush. I turned off the dryer and put my headphones around my neck.

"What on earth..." Was all I could get out.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I just figured that you saw what I do, so I wanted to see what you do...I hope that's ok." I could see a worried look in his eyes.

"How did you find me?" I probably should have reassured those baby blues, but I was still so confused.

"Well you told me your shop was on Hudson. And there was a dog groomer on Hudson called Casey's Place.....so I guess I'm a detective?" He was still feeling out if he'd made a mistake.

I laughed. "That's fair I guess. You googled me?!"

He let out a chuckle. Those seemed difficult to evoke from him, but I felt like I could make it my full time job just to hear the sound and watch the corners of his eyes crinkle.

"You haven't googled me?" He asked with mock accusation.

"Actually, no," I admitted, "I think I'd prefer to learn about you from you."

He smiled, "well I guess we've determined who's the better person then!"

He suddenly sat on the floor cross legged, and the three dogs already on the floor immediately ran to him and began climbing and licking him maniacally.

Jealous, I thought. But only said, "well that's a good sign."

"What is?," he asked while trying to avoid getting dog tongue directly in his mouth.

"Never trust someone your dog doesn't trust! And they seem to love you."

This time he blushed.

I lifted the dog on the table down to the floor so he could join the fun.

Joe tried to untangle himself from the dog pile and stand back up. "I was wondering if I could take you to lunch?" he asked, barely making eye contact.

Wow, is he...nervous? I wanted to say yes so bad, but I was the only one in the shop today, and I couldn't leave the dogs unattended.

"Could I take a rain check?" I asked, hoping my eyes didn't look as desperate as I felt.

"Of course," he replied, "I knew you were working, I'm sorry."

I gave him a little pout, and the corners of his mouth turned up.

"I'll talk to you soon!" He said and quickly turned and walked out the door.

My heart sank. Did I just turn down Joe Burrow on a date? But my job, I've worked so hard for this shop, and surely he gets that. I hoisted the dog back onto the table and got back to work, while my heart continued to chastise my brain for being too responsible. Then my phone chimed. I looked at my watch to see a message from Joe. I pulled out my phone to open it.

Do you like onions?

Well...I guess he still wants to get to know me? First what I do for a living, now my produce preferences?

I typed back, Yes with a question mark.

Message read, no response.

This man is an enigma.

And then 10 minutes later my door dinged and in walked Joe with two greasy paper bags, a tray loaded down with drinks, and a smile that could light up the dark.

"You still have to eat, right?" He said with a shrug of his big, broad shoulders and began to spread out a selection of burgers and fries across the grooming table that wasn't currently in use.

"I got you a soda, a milkshake and a coffee because I don't know what you like yet." He explained

Yet. Oh my gosh he was adorable. I melted, perhaps obviously.

I pulled up two stools, suddenly a little unsure if one would even support Joe's enormous size. He sat down and it looked almost comical.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized, unable to choke back my laughter, "I don't normally cater to football stars".

He brushed it off, quickly. "All good, a lot of furniture is too small for me. Or I'm too big for it. Whichever."

He took a big bite of a burger while I grabbed a couple fries, unable to take my eyes off him, trying to understand what these last several days were coming to. My overthinking brain couldn't take it anymore, and I just spit out "Why me?"

Joe turned to me, looking straight into my eyes, with surprise. "What do you mean?", he seemed genuinely confused.

I took a deep breath. "Well, like, you're you. You're obviously super attractive, you're a famous athlete, you're talented, smart, focused, funny, kind, charming... I'm sure you could have your pick of anyone in Ohio - no, in America. Maybe even Canada too. And then, I'm just me."

"You think I'm attractive?" He said, eyebrows raising, blue eyes mischievous.

I rolled my eyes.

"But seriously, Casey," he continued, "I'm intrigued by you. I love that you know who you are, and what you're about. You're beautiful, you're smart, you're focused. And honestly, I kind of liked that you didn't know who I was."

I could feel the flush of red flowing up my face, I've never been good at accepting compliments. Especially from this remarkable specimen of a man sitting so very close to me right now.

"I really don't think you're giving yourself enough credit", he continued, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since the day I laid eyes on you. I wasn't going to push it, but when you texted me yesterday, I knew I didn't want to let you get away."

He placed his large hand on my thigh, I think to comfort me because he could tell I was overwhelmed, but it had the opposite effect and made my heart beat 10 times faster.

"I like you too, Joe. I just don't know what this would look like. Dog groomer dates NFL superstar? I'm an introvert. Sometimes I get anxious if the grocery store is really busy."

Joe burst out laughing. "Maybe just don't overthink it, and we can see what happens?" He smiled, his eyes pleading with mine, feeling like they were reaching in and pulling directly on my heart. A smile started creeping across my face, despite my best efforts to convince myself there was just no way this was happening, and then Joe leaned in and planted his full, beautiful lips on mine, leaving absolutely no doubt that it really was.

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

The rest of the week was bliss. Late nights facetiming until we fell asleep, Joe stopping in with coffee for me at work (now that he knew that was my drink of choice). I was living for getting to know and understand him. I'd never known someone so focused, so loyal. He was incredibly intelligent, loved his family, he was thoughtful, awkward enough to allow me to believe he really was human, and so adorable when he tried to flirt. And probably most surprising, he was quite introverted too, preferring to keep a small circle, and still navigating the fame that he had now achieved.

I also learned that the day before game day, as far as anyone in the world is concerned, Joe Burrow does not exist. He takes the day to focus, watch tape, and avoid distraction and chatter at all costs. He definitely takes his job seriously, but I get it, he loves what he does.

So Friday night he picked me up to go to his place for supper. He wanted to avoid a public outing, to avoid the media storm that was sure to follow. I thought that sounded like a great idea. He pulled up in his white G-Wagon around 7pm.

I climbed up into the passenger side.

"Did you lock your door?" He joked.

"Hilarious.", I replied, "why do you always drive this thing? Don't get me wrong, you look hot as hell behind the wheel, but I know you have a garage full of choices."

He blushed and tried to hide his smile. "Those were all phases I thought I was going through I guess. This thing is my favourite. And the least conspicuous".

He put the vehicle in gear and reached across the console to hold my hand. It was a short drive to his house, despite us living in very different neighbourhoods. We walked into his house that already smelled like food as his cook was busy preparing game day prep-appropriate nutrition. We sat down on his oversized couch (he seemed to have purchased furniture more suited so his size), and he turned to look at me. He grabbed both my hands in his, making them all but disappear.

"I have a question for you," he started.

Uh oh. Serious Joe was also unreadable Joe.

"Oooook," I said nervously.

He squeezed my hands.

"It's nothing bad, I was just wondering if you wanted to come to my game on Sunday. You don't have to sit in the suite, I can get you tickets for the stands. You can bring friends if you want. Whatever you want."

Oh boy. There is nothing I wanted more than to be there to support him, cheer him on, watch him do his thing, see him in those tight pants in person... But I wasn't sure I was ready for that kind of debut yet.

"Joe...."

He could sense my reservations immediately.

"It's ok," he reassured me, "I wanted you to have the invitation, I totally get it if we're...not there yet." He seemed genuine, but also a little sad. Damn those puppy dog eyes.

"It's not that, I just haven't really told anyone about us yet, I wasn't even sure there was anything to tell, and I barely understand the game, and if at any point you'd be there with me I'd be all for it, but I know that's not how game day works. I will be there, and soon....I think I just need a little more time." My eyes were pleading with him to understand.

And of course he did. He wrapped me in a big hug. "I'm looking forward to that day, and it makes me unreasonably happy to hear you talk about the future, even if you're just talking three weeks from now." He was grinning like a fool. I was absolutely falling for this man.

"I have a proposition, perhaps a bit of a compromise. What if you come to my place after your game. I would really like to see you, especially if I have to be Joe-free tomorrow." I tried my best puppy dog eyes, and they seemed to work.

"I can do that," he agreed, "but if we don't win, I can't say how good of company I'll be".

"If we don't win?!" I mocked, "well that doesn't sound like Joe Burrow at all!"

He laughed. That was still my favourite. They didn't come easily, but I would spend my last day trying just to hear that beautiful sound.

----------

Sunday afternoon I plopped down on the couch with a coffee, a blanket, and my phone. I turned on the tv to the game. And suddenly felt very, very nervous. I wasn't sure what the superstitions were about talking to the players before the game, but I decided to send Joe a quick text. Knowing him, he doesn't even look at his phone prior to a game.

Have fun today. We're the lucky ones, getting paid to do what we love ❤️

He replied with the kissing face emoji: 😘

Swoon.

I spent most of the game googling - offside, the pocket, roughing the passer, why are they punting, what is a punt.....this was gonna be a steep learning curve. I also spent part of the game covering my eyes when Joe was about to get hit. This was so intense. It was a hard fought game, but three hours later the Bengals finished with a loss by two points. Now I was even more nervous. I was about to meet After a Loss Joe. Knowing how seriously he takes his job, I knew losses must hit him pretty hard.

45 minutes after the game ended, the G Wagon's headlights shone into my front window. Well, he still came over so that was a good sign.

I opened the door to him not standing as tall as he usually does, but he still wrapped me in a hug and gave me a kiss on the top of my head.

"Hi", I said softly, meeting his eyes. "I'm proud of you, that was amazing to watch".

He offered a small smile and walked across the room to collapse on the couch.

I walked to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of tea and him a glass of water, then joined him in the front room. I set the cups on the table, and sat down on his lap, running my hand through his freshly washed hair. He wrapped his long arms around my waist and rested his head against my shoulder. I didn't say anything, just listened to him breathe, while I breathed in his fresh shower scent, and enjoyed how small I felt on his expansive lap, with his strong arms enveloping me.

Eventually he swung his legs up onto the couch and scooted down so he was laying down, taking up the whole length of the couch. He moved me to the side so I was tucked in between his body and the back of the couch. I rested my head on his chest.

"I just hate letting the guys down," he finally spoke.

I didn't offer a response. I didn't think he was looking for one.

"I fumbled that snap, I don't even know how, but that was about to be a big play, and instead it was nothing."

I pushed myself up onto my elbow so I could see his face. He stared at me for a minute.

"Aren't you gonna say anything?" He asked.

"What could I possibly have to offer? I spent the whole game googling terminology and covering my eyes cuz I was scared you were gonna get hurt!" I admitted.

Unexpectedly, his face relaxed, and he laughed.

"If it helps, I thought you looked great, I found the game really exciting, for what I understood, and I kinda hoped you were gonna show up here in your uniform still because wow, apparently I love a man I uniform." I said with a knowing look.

"Is that so?" He asked, a smirk on his face

He sat back up, and scooped me back onto his lap, this time so I was straddling him and looking right into those beautiful eyes. He stared at me for what felt like forever before saying, "You're my missing piece."

"Sorry?" I replied, confused.

"It's just, I have everything I ever could have wanted from life, and I couldn't figure out why I still wasn't where I wanted to be. This is the first time I've ever held onto a little hope after a loss, because I still had something to look forward to. I was excited to come here. It's you, Case. I was missing you. And now here you are. And I'm sorry to tell you, but now that I have you, i'm never gonna let you go." His face was so soft, relaxed, certain.

I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes. His sincerity made me emotional. I didn't risk speaking, as I knew my voice would give away how much I was feeling for him in that moment. Instead, I leaned into him and kissed him deeply. His tongue forced it's way into my mouth, playing tag with mine. I ran my hands through his hair like I'd been dreaming of doing all week.

He slipped his hands under me and lifted us both off the couch in one swift movement. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, still kissing his mouth, his cheeks, his neck.

He gently laid me down on my bed, and I shimmied my body up to my pillow. He climbed onto the bed on his hands and knees, hovering over me like a real Bengal tiger about to devour his prey. He started at my forehead and began working his way down, kissing every inch of me. He pulled down the shoulder of my shirt and planted soft, yet hungry kisses on my bare skin. He then pushed my shirt up, exposing my belly, kissing me more. I pulled the shirt over my head, exposing my bra. More kisses between the exposed parts of my breasts. Down to my belly button, where he began to unbutton my jeans.

"You're so beautiful" be breathed out between kisses.

"Hold on," I begged, and pulled his shirt over his head. I almost gasped, taking in every inch of his expansive, muscular torso. A bruise on his bicep, a scar on his belly, and the most phenomenal abs I'd ever seen.

"You're ethereal." I panted.

"Your vocabulary is so sexy", he grinned, and continued planting kisses all over me. He pulled my jeans down and kissed his way back up my legs. When he made it to the warm, increasingly wet place between my legs, he sat up on his knees, taking in all of me. I should have felt self conscious, but instead I felt safe, even beautiful. I pulled him back into me and began sliding his track pants over his hips. He wasn't wearing underwear. His cock sprung out, erect and very large. I looked up at him, he was waiting for a response. I may have whimpered.

"Is this ok?" He asked.

"I can't think of anything I want more", I replied, perhaps a bit desperately.

He slid my panties down and let his fingers enter me. I couldn't have been any more wet, but the feel of his hard length rubbing against my thigh as he fingered me was making me feral.

I put my hands on his shoulders, drawing his attention back to my face. "I want you," I panted, "all of you."

His face was flushed, and he smiled. He positioned himself back on top of me, and slowly pushed his hard cock into me. It slid in easily with how wet I was, and filled absolutely every bit of me. When he finally bottomed out, I gasped

"Are you alright?" His face showed genuine concern.

"Never been better," I reassured him. I wrapped my legs around him, taking in every inch, while he kissed my neck and thrusted into me, slowly, steadily. I was digging my nails into his back. He felt so good. I never wanted him to stop. He continue to place soft kisses down my neck, on my breasts, letting his tongue linger on my nipples. Despite how strong this man was, he couldn't have been more gentle and attentive.

When his face was near mine again, I told him to roll over. Excitement flickered over his eyes, he smiled, and obeyed.

I straddled him and began grinding my hips against him. In this position, he went even deeper into me, I could feel him in my belly. I couldn't stop staring at him. The more I took in every perfect angle of his face and body, the quicker my body forced itself against him. My clit rubbing against his abdomen in my own slickness, I could feel myself reaching my climax.

"Are you close?" I breathed, holding onto him tightly.

"I'm ready when you are," he smiled.

I began rocking harder, faster, reaching around to cradle his heavy testicles, watching his face writhe in exquisite pleasure until I felt every nerve in me release while I pulled him in even deeper and tighter in the throes of orgasm. I felt him buck his hips into me while moaning in pleasure, savoring his own release. I collapsed onto his hard body, completely blissed out.

He wrapped his arms around me, and whispered "wow..." Between ragged breaths.

I rolled off of him and curled in beside him as tightly as possible. His arm around my back, mine draped over his perfect torso.

"After that, I won't be going anywhere either, just so you know." I told him while tracing small circles with my finger around his chest.

"Nothing would make me happier," he smiled, and turned to kiss my cheek.

I guess I better start figuring out how to be a little more comfortable in crowds....

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#joe burrow #joe burrow fic #fanfic #joe burrow imagine

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