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schrijverr · 1 month

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Stiles as a Roommate

Classic outsiders POV of Stiles in college, where his roommate, Mike, and their other friends try to figure out who all these people are that keep calling Stiles.

On AO3.

Ships: Sterek

Warnings: they think Stiles is wrapped up in some bad shit (which valid tbh)

~~~~

Mike’s roommate is profoundly disturbing and highly hilarious to have around. On the first day he comes crashing into the room, tripping over himself like an old school physical comedy, before assuring Mike that he’s fine and it doesn’t even come close to being beaten to a pulp by a grandfather.

It’s quite the introduction and for a while Mike was worries that his roommate is going to suck. Stiles isn’t the typical college student, you see.

He has amassed an entire herb garden in the windowsill, skips out on most parties, keeps a metal baseball bat by his bed and calls home every single day. On top of that, he doesn’t know how to shut up and his rants devolve into the strangest bullshit about the most random topics that make Mike wonder why the hell criminology major had looked into them.

So, Mike thought he is stuck with a weird paranoid kid, who doesn’t know how to have fun. He worries about Stiles getting mad about him getting back in late or judgmental about not studying as much. However, his worries had soon been put to rest.

Because Stiles is fun and Stiles is easy. He can become anyone’s friend in minutes and is up later than healthy most of the time, doing weird bullshit on his laptop that he calls research, though Mike never knows what for.

He might not be a party-goer himself, but he absolutely doesn’t care about what Mike does, just jeering at him to use protection when he goes out and waking him up with a smug smirk and coffee when Mike wants to disappear into his mattress with a hangover, kicking his ass to classes.

Stiles is probably what is keeping him from failing right now and Mike will go to great lengths to keep him as his friend, because, yeah, they’re friends now.

It’s impossible not to befriend Stiles, he grows on you like a very persistent mold.

His friendship with Stiles starts six weeks into rooming together. Classes are in full swing alongside parties and Mike has just started to get worried about his roommate being a stick in the mud, when he comes home at 4:00 AM piss drunk.

Naturally he tries (and fails) to quietly enter the room, trying not the be the dickbag that wakes people up every night to find the lights still on. He blinks a few times at Stiles, who is sitting on his bed with a laptop and smartly says: “Huh.”

“God, you’re so fucking drunk it’s not even funny, dude. I can smell it from here and I don’t even have a freaky nose,” Stiles comments, before he gets up from the bed.

Mike sways slightly in the doorway, mentally trying to decide if he can do a stumble and drop to his bed or if he’ll sleep on the floor when Stiles is suddenly in front of him. He startles and nearly falls over, saved from faceplanting by Stiles, who is usually the one meeting the floor.

“Oh, hey, there, hey, buddy,” Stiles says, righting him. He slips an arm around Mike and masterfully stumble-drags him to the bed, depositing him on it. He points at Mike, who is still reeling from the movement and sternly says: “Don’t move,” as if Mike had any big plans.

Moments later he returns with a glass of water and gets Mike upright, telling him to sip and not allowing him to stop until the glass is empty.

Mike isn’t sure what happens next, but the next morning he wakes up with a groan to find two painkillers, a glass of water and a glass of orange juice on his bedside table along with a note reading: go to your classes! And you’re not a very eloquent drunk

In that moment, it feels like the nicest thing anyone has ever done for him, swiftly forgetting all his parents have done under the pounding headache. He takes his painkillers, drinks his drinks and actually manages to drag himself to his lecture, deciding that Stiles might not be so bad.

When he comes back from his class, Stiles is there, typing away on his laptop again. He greets Mike when he enters and Mike returns it: “Hey, dude. Thanks for the painkillers and stuff.”

“Yeah, man, no problem,” Stiles smiles back. “It’s just instinct at this point, I’ve had to drag worse people off to bed.”

It’s a bit of an odd reply, but something Mike can work with. “You friends with many party-goers?”

A strange look flits over Stiles’ face, but it goes as fast as it comes and Stiles says: “Something like that. I was the one with a car, who wasn’t a prick about it getting dirty on the inside when in crisis. I have passed up on many party experiences except the clean up. All my friends are idiots.”

Mike chuckles at that and plops down on his own bed, as he comments: “Do you have a big friend group back home?” See, he can have conversations, mom.

“Oh, yeah,” Stiles tells him with a grin. “We’re like a family. A very weird family.” A brief pause. “But how about you?”

“Nah,” Mike shrugs. “I’m making up for it now.”

“Yeah, I can see,” Stiles grins. “Alcohol is a poison, my man. Besides, I’m not sure you’re remembering the friends you made.”

The bluntness is something Mike has encountered before and turned him away, but it doesn’t sound mean. He remembers that he is going to try with Stiles, so instead of ending the conversation there, he shrugs: “Probably, but it’s fun while it lasts.”

“Come on, man, that’s not fun,” Stiles says. “I have some friends from introduction. We get fries on Thursdays and study on Sunday. You can come sometime, it’s fun.”

Okay, so the bluntness was genuine concern and Mike honestly could use some actual friends. He likes parties, they’re fun, but the loneliness is starting to get to him. So he replies: “Sure, sounds fun.”

“Hell yeah,” Stiles does a genuine fist pump and Mike snorts. Yeah, alright, maybe Stiles isn’t so bad at all.

“Why were you awake so late anyway?” Mike asks, suddenly remembering that Stiles was just sitting there when he stumbled in.

“Oh, Jackson called me,” Stiles says. “He’s in studying in at Cambridge, because his parents are pretentious fuckers. He needed to check in about… something and I was still awake. I had to look something up, I was just emailing him the details when you came in.”

“All the way in England?” Mike whistles, a bit impressed.

“Tsk, don’t let hear him that. Dick has a big enough ego as it is,” Stiles rolls his eyes.

“I thought you were his friend?” Mike says, a bit confused, because Stiles had literally picked up the phone at 4:00 AM for this guy, couldn’t be that much bad blood, could there?

“Surprisingly enough. He had a restraining order against me in high school for a while,” Stiles informs him casually, before realizing how that sounds and quickly amending: “Obviously, he revoked it, because it was completely unnecessary and a big misunderstanding. We’re cool now, promise.”

And that’s Mike’s cue to drop the conversation, giving Stiles a tight nod, before turning to his own work. He’s giving the other a chance, not inviting crazy. Though he does allow himself to be invited for fries on Thursday with Stiles’ friends.

There is Maya a shy, but enthusiastic biology major; Aalif, a kind but serious looking pre-law student; Nikki, a hilariously insane art major; and Kai a bit of a dorky English major. How Stiles had found this ragtag group Mike doesn’t know

“Mike,” he introduces himself. “I do history. I’m Stiles’ roommate,” before he’s pulled into a discussion about whether or not fries can be classified as a salad. (Potato salad exists, Mike, and it’s a side dish).

It’s honestly a lot more fun than expected and it’s nice to see that Stiles does know how to have fun, he just has fun arguing about nothing with someone studying to argue professionally instead of getting wasted.

While Mike doesn’t think he’ll keep away from parties entirely, he might cut back to make place for this. The genuine connection is way nicer than not remembering who you talked to, or if you even did.

They’re about to start opening the famous is cereal-soup debate when Stiles’ phone starts to ring. He nearly hits his head on the table as he dives to get it out of his bag, calling out a quick: “Sorry, guys, gotta take this real quick.”

But since he is stuck in a booth, all he can do is turn away from them as he greets: “Isaac, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

It’s not the most standard greeting and Mike raises his brow at the others, who all shrug. Apparently this has happened before. Mike watches as Stiles gets a reply, fascinated by how Stiles seems to melt, worries leaving him as he grins fondly, before practically cooing: “You missing me already? I am flattered, pup.”

He grins some more at what Isaac is saying, before raising a brow, voice turning into a tease: “I feel used here. Like a cheap replacement. You knew Scott was going to be busy with Allison, I even warned you. Not my fault no one in this p- family ever listens to me.”

Another reply to which Stiles says: “Yes, you heard correctly, I’m with friends, you can make those at college. I encourage you to try.”

An eyeroll at Isaac’s answer, then a sigh: “Yes, Isaac, having your own friends will get their attention again. But try also for yourself, meeting new people is fun. Maybe you even meet someone you like.”

“Bye, Isaac,” Stiles says pointedly, it sounds faintly like Isaac is protesting his departure, but he hangs up on him.

“Sorry about that, you know how they can get,” Stiles grins, trying to play it off, while Mike tries to ignore how much it sounds like the conversation he had with his mom last week, before deciding to join the others in not commenting.

And after that it their friendship takes off until they’re at the ‘waking him up with a smug smirk and coffee when Mike wants to disappear into his mattress with a hangover, kicking his ass to classes’- stage.

Turns out that if you’re closer to Stiles, he’s even weirder. He goes home pretty often, now that he has settled in alright, nearly every other weekend, at least once a month, though he complains about his dad forcing him to stay at college to get the full experience, air quotes obvious in his voice.

Mike doesn’t say anything, since he kind of agrees with Stiles’ dad. It’s a bit unhealthy how much Stiles’ calls home. Or at least, Mike thinks he does, though it always sounds like it’s someone else on the phone, because Stiles will tell the same story a bunch of times or tell the person that another person told him to tell them etc, like they couldn't call themselves.

The conversations are also just weird. Stiles cuts himself off sometimes, sending Mike looks, or he’ll fuss over whoever is on the other side of the line like he’s their therapist, or their fucking mother. Not to mention the fact that he always – always – picks up.

Mike has tried to call Stiles a few times, a lot of the time his roommate won’t pick up, or call back apologetically, yet he’ll leave a lecture if someone from home calls.

It’s just odd.

So, brave soldier as he is (as well as the head investigator of their little friend group, who are all more curious about Stiles than Mike expected when he first met them), he asks: “Hey, man, who are you always calling?”

Stiles look up from where has just hung up with a: “You be careful okay? I love you,” looking a bit confused, before smiling and shrugging: “That depends, honestly. It’s a bit much.”

That sounds like a deflection, but Mike is curious and got better at talking to people and standing up for himself. So, he goes: “I have time. I’m smart. I think I can take it.”

“Alright,” Stiles shoots him another uncertain look, before starting, “Well, my dad and Derek are holding down the fort, so I call them just to see how life is going. Boyd and Erica are there too, so I call them too, but Boyd doesn’t talk much, so I mostly call with Erica. She is my Catwoman, you know, we chat, she spills about Boyd. He has his own carpentry shop, it’s been going well. I’m glad for him, you know. And Erica is taking a gap year, but to be honest, I think she likes being a park ranger too much to ever go back to school.”

Mike nods along to Stiles’ rambles. His dad is explainable and the fact that he added Derek in there must mean they’re a unit in his mind, maybe a brother? Or even his father’s boyfriend. Erica is someone he’s close with and knows well, called her his Catwoman, so maybe girlfriend? But he connected her to Boyd, who sounds like a far friend of sorts, so maybe not.

“Of course there is Jackson in England,” Stiles continues on happily. “I told you about him. He is a bit of a dick, but we’ve forgiven him. Well, Lydia did and we all trusted her and it worked out okay.”

And yeah, Mike remembers Jackson with the apparent restraining order and wonders who Lydia is. Luckily he doesn’t have to wait long.

“Lydia,” Stiles sighs, making Mike think he loves her, which he naturally immediately disproves by going, “I used to be in love with her, but turns out, no. She’s being an absolute genius doing mathematics at CalTech. She terrifies me in the best ways.”

That’s not concerning at all.

“And then you have Scott, my best friend,” Stiles rambles on and Mike knows that the other probably won’t even notice if he leaves. He gets like that. “Now my man Scott is at Colorado State

to become a vet alongside Allison and Isaac.”

Those two names are also familiar and Mike feels awkward staying silent, so he says: “They’re all become vets?”

“No, just Scott, but they’re all at Colorado State, because Scott will probably perish without Allison and Isaac hates being lonely and didn’t get into Stanford with me,” Stiles says, like that’s the most obvious reason to pick a school.

Mike is distracted by Stiles hitting his arm enthusiastically: “Allison is also doing history, man, I hadn’t even thought of that! I don’t know how it would be relevant either, but you know, fun fact! I love fun facts, like did you know that human teeth are the only part of the body that can’t heal themselves, because enamel is dead tissue. That was fun to find out.”

He senses that there is a story there, but Stiles is already moving on: “And Isaac, my beautiful boy, is doing social studies, which I think will really help him. He’s come so far and he’s really happy with his courses.”

Isaac was the one that called during that first Thursday fries run Mike was a part of. He recalls the nicknames and the fact that Isaac was missing Stiles, not to mention how fond Stiles sounded and the fact that Isaac wanted to go to college with him. Maybe Isaac was the boyfriend?

“Anyways,” Stiles ends his rant. “I told you it’s a bit much, but I like knowing they’re okay and getting by and if I only call one, the others will get jealous. There’s only so much Stiles to go around and everyone wants a piece,” he grins.

Mike thinks Stiles has a weird relationship with his friends from back home, but also that he doesn’t want to create any friction with his roommate and best friend on campus, so he just nods and smiles a bit.

“But how about you?” Stiles returns the question. “You never call home, at least, not that I’ve witnessed.”

Since Stiles decided to share, something he rarely does, Mike knows he should return the favor, so he shrugs. “Not really much to call.”

“Is no one there?” Stiles asks, all concern.

“My mom and dad are, but you know,” Mike shrugs. “Dad just cares about my grades and mom is always prying, like she thinks I can’t manage by myself or something. It’s fucking annoying. I’m an adult now, she doesn’t need to hover.”

Stiles frowns at his reply, then bites his lip as if he isn’t sure he should say something, before he breaks and blurts: “But isn’t that nice? To have someone who worries?”

“What?” Mike hadn’t thought Stiles would pick his mom’s side, though maybe he should have seen it coming.

“I mean, I don’t know your situation of course, but I get it,” Stiles shrugs, backing off a bit. “You’ve always been her baby, who she saw every single day and knew when you had a bad day, when you got a good grade, etc, now she has nothing and you don’t tell her, so her mind makes up all the horrible things that could have happened to you between calls, resulting in what is practically an interrogation until she is satisfied that you’re truly as okay as you claim you are… Wow, that was one hell of s sentence,” Stiles ends his keen observation with a joke to lighten it up a bit, since he got way too into that.

Mike attempts to wade through the sea of words just slung to his head, before he realizes Stiles kind of has a point. He breathes: “How do you even know that?”

Stiles scratches his nose and shrugs: “I might be a bit of the mom-friend.” And Mike is reminded of the fact that Stiles is really weird with his friends and that he probably knows that because he does the exact same thing his mother does.

Next Sunday, he reports all this to the study group, which Stiles has had to skip out on, because someone called at midnight, which obviously meant Stiles immediately packed is bags and left, something that is more common than Mike would like.

“That’s a lot of friends,” Maya comments once he is done. “But it’s sweet he cares so much about them.”

“He cares mom-levels about them,” Mike points out. “I’m telling you, he got so intense while defending my mom, like it was personal.”

“So, he’s a bit intense about is friends,” Nikki shrugs. “One girl in my class is making a shrine to her boyfriend as a final project. We’re not at that level yet, so I think we’re good.”

“He took off in the middle of the night on a three hour drive, because someone called,” Mike replies.

“I don’t think it’s really any of our concern,” Aalif interrupts, before it can get out of hand.

“But what if they’re like a creepy cult or something?” Nikki asks.

Aalif levels her a look as he says: “I don’t think Stiles would get drawn into a cult.”

“You don’t know that,” she raises a brow. “It happens, even to smart people like Stiles.”

“He has a metal baseball bat by his bed,” Mike offers, not sure why he is backing Nikki in this debate.

“He does?” Maya asks, a bit concerned.

They all now look at Mike and he suddenly realizes that they’ve never been into their room, which is why he has become Stiles source number 1. He shrugs: “Yeah, he took it with him when he left for home tonight. It’s all damaged and shit, though I think some carvings are intentional. They look a bit like runes.”

Nikki raises a brow as she looks at Aalif and says: “But you don’t think Stiles could have joined a cult.”

“I don’t think a cult would have allowed him to leave for college, not to mention do criminology,” Maya offers. “I think he’s following a seminar about cults right now actually.”

“Okay, but even without a cult, still suspicious and weird,” Nikki huffs. “And it’s still a possibility, right, Mike?”

Mike startles a bit unsure how he got on the pro-cult side and not sure he isn’t agreeing. “I mean, he does have all these herbs and some weird books, but those could be from the library.”

And now they’re giving him more looks. Great. He puts his hands up defensively: “It’s not like I know, alright. Stiles never exactly cooks, maybe he just likes the smell of the herbs. And the books could be an aesthetic thing, though he keeps him under his bed in a box if they’re his.”

“What sort of books?” Kai asks after a beat.

“They’re leather bound. Old,” Mike shrugs. “I haven’t seen him with them much. He shoves them out of sight when I get in and the only times he hasn’t was when he thought I was asleep or very drunk.”

“Creepy,” Maya shivers.

“Come on, this is Stiles,” Aalif says. “He is not in some creepy cult. Do you all even hear yourselves? Seriously. Now, the midterms are coming up and I would like to get some passing grades.”

That gets a few boos and boring’s thrown at him, but Aalif doesn’t falter and they do all giggle a bit at the ridiculousness of Stiles in a cult. Before they can truly get anything done, Nikke snorts: “Maybe he tripped into it,” sending them all into giggles again.

It isn’t a joke anymore when Stiles reappears again on their Thursday fry run his face more bruise than skin and his hands both wrapped in bandages.

“Stiles!” Kai exclaims, already out of his seat. “What happened to you?”

“Hey there, guys,” Stiles attempts a grin, wincing at the action. “I’m good, I’m good.” He eases himself into their booth, wrapped fingers taking some fries and popping them into his mouth as the rest watches him with careful eyes. Of course he notices as he chews slowly, whispering to himself: “Knew Derek was right about the liquid diet. Fucker.”

“What happened?” Aalif asks when Stiles seems like he is going to ignore the whole situation that is his face and hands. “Stiles, if someone did this to do, you have to go to the police, file a report. You can sue.”

“Of course you’d say that, lawyer-man,” Stiles grins again, falling flat once more when his already split lip, re-splits and starts to bleed. “Ah, fuck,” he hisses, grabbing a napkin to press against it as he makes a disgruntled face.

“Stiles,” Nikki snaps.

“What?” he replies as if it’s not incredibly obvious.

Mike surprises himself by jumping in: “What the hell happened to you, man?”

It dawns on Stiles that they’re not letting it go and he sags a bit in his seat. Then says: “Nothing, I promise. It was just an accident, really.”

That’s just a thousand red flags there and Maya takes the lead for them, putting a hand on Stiles shoulder and saying in a soft voice: “We’re not going to judge you, promise. But right now, not knowing is so much worse.”

“Derek told me not to come,” Stiles sighs after a moment. “I knew it was stupid, but I wanted to come. I mean, he only had Boyd and Erica with him, because all the others were too far away. That wasn’t enough.”

“What were they doing?” Nikki asks, unable to keep her mouth shut and be patient.

Luckily, Stiles isn’t silenced by it. “Derek lives on the preserve, it’s in the middle of the forest and something was killing the animals. It was a mountain lion, we have a lot of animal attacks. They wanted to take it out before it moved into the town.”

Mike remembers Stiles telling him Erica was a park ranger, but Boyd was a carpenter and he knew nothing about Derek, which is weird on its own. Stiles loved bragging about his friends, or would casually comment about them or pick up the phone with their name on his lips, but Mike had before now heard the name Derek only once.

“Of course I tripped over a few branches in the dark,” Stiles laughs self-deprecatingly. “I should have known better. I’m a klutz, you know. Though I did get a hit in, before I went down in a not so glorious blaze of branches and a curse.”

“You hit a mountain lion?” Kai whisper yells.

“Yeah, with my bat,” Stiles shrugs, like it’s a normal thing.

“Dude, are you insane?” Mike asks.

“Oh, okay, I see what’s happening here,” Stiles backs up, like they didn’t make sense before now. “I didn’t want to admit I fell, because it’s embarrassing as fuck. And like, I know I’m clumsy, but after all the running away from shit trying to kill me, one would think I’d have gotten better at it, but noooo. I am surrounded by people who can do crazy shit, while I hit my head on a fucking branch, because why not.”

“Stiles!” Nikke cuts him off. “Running away from things trying to kill you? What the hell.”

“I was getting there,” Stiles says, though it’s obvious to all of them that he was getting further and further away from the point. “When I was in high school there were all these murders in town. My friend was targeted at one point, I got caught up in it. Nothing makes a friendship like getting locked into a school and running from a crazed murderer or holding someone up in a pool for two hours. It was a whole thing. Plus my father is the sheriff.”

“What the fuck,” Nikki voices the shared sentiment after a moment to process.

“Wait, here I have proof,” Stiles taps away on his phone, before showing a news article with the tagline reading: Five teens trapped in high school with murderer still on the loose

After letting them read it, he puts his phone in his pocket and proudly says: “We’re having a project about crimes in our hometown right now and I have an advantage over the rest.”

“That’s- That’s not-” Maya stutters. “…Stiles…”

“What?” he says confused, as if what he just bragged about isn’t heartbreaking. God, no wonder he’s a bit fucked from it all. Mike would want to know if all his friends are okay if he nearly saw them all killed alongside him.

“Are you, like, okay?” Mike asks.

“Probably not, like in general,” Stiles tells him honestly, “but I am really fine. As fine as I get anyway. Derek says I have to work on that, but he’s not the boss of me and I actually am doing better. I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Maya smiles kindly. “We just want to know you’re okay. Thanks for trusting us with that. Did you get those wounds checked out?”

“I did,” he returns her smile. “Got a clean bill of health and everything. Dad wouldn’t let me drive back before that.”

“Good,” Aalif says.

They’re all quiet for a moment, before the thing that has been niggling on his mind comes out. He asks: “Who is this Derek person anyway?”

Stiles regards them all for a moment, before saying: “I don’t think we reached that level of friendship yet. Sorry. Like, you’re all my friends and stuff and I like bragging about my other friends to you, but I don’t know.”

“What?” Mike exclaims as Nikki points out: “You just told us you nearly got murdered, but telling us about a friend is a step too far?”

“You know, that is actually a good point,” Stiles says. “I must still be a bit lightheaded from everything, I normally don’t tell people that.”

“Should we take you to a hospital? Kai asks worriedly.

“No, no, I’m kidding, I think,” Stiles jokes, before quickly adding, “I am truly kidding, please don’t take me to a hospital. God, no one appreciates my humor.”

“Stiles,” Aalif sighs tiredly when Stiles deftly gets them on a different topic than Derek.

“Derek is my husband,” Stiles finally tells them, shutting them all up as they stare at them with their jaws on the floor. That explains Stiles trips home and lack of partying or otherwise getting laid, he had a whole fucking husband waiting for him at home.

None of them could know that Stiles’ reluctance to talk about Derek and his relation is that as a prominent alpha, broadcasting that they were ‘mated’ (and yes, Derek, that term is still weird to a human) isn’t really smart. Especially after everything that had already come to Beacon Hills.

“Y- Your husband?!?” Kai squeaks.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you all,” Stiles groans. “You can’t imagine the rumor mill at home when it happened, like seriously, people were acting like I was signing my life away to the devil or something.”

“Why?” Maya asks and Mike has to agree. Marriage so early isn’t exactly uncommon, it just took them by surprise this time. What would make this different.

“I-” Stiles looks genuinely sheepish, “I might have gotten him arrested for a murder he didn’t commit and stuff. But that was like, what? Two, three years ago.”

Immediately their table exploded, voices overlapping, because – again – what the fuck.

“He didn’t do it!” Stiles exclaims, shutting them all up. “He was framed. Set up. Look, I know he wasn’t the killer. Derek saved my life, like a bazillion times at this point. I love him.”

Despite the bruises, the look on his face is quite clear with love oozing off of it. Like full on, ‘Disney princess, soulmate, found the one’-love. It’s a bit disgusting in Mike’s terribly single opinion.

“Well, then I want to see him,” Nikki demands. “You can’t tell us you got swept off your feet by a mysterious would be murderer and not expect us to want to see him.”

Stiles shoots them all a suspicious look, which is pretty rude all things considering, but Mike lets it slide in favor of satiating his curiosity. Then Stiles pulls out his phone, showing them a sequence of pictures that said more than words could.

It’s obviously their wedding day. They’re both in full suits, standing in a forest with the sunset hitting them, putting them in a glow of light. Derek is apparently a handsome, muscled man, who screams not bad boy as much as serial killer.

The first picture is pretty standard. They’re looking at each other, Derek’s bad boy vibe killed by the fact that he is smiling softly at Stiles, who is smiling back. Derek’s smile is toothachingly fond in a way that Mike feels in his chest.

In the second picture, the murder vibes are back in full force, with Derek glaring at Stiles, who looks like he’s saying something, his face smug like it’s an inside joke, his hands up to gesture like he always does.

Then, in the last picture, Stiles has Derek’s cheeks between his hand, face contorted in something Mike would call a coo, if Derek didn’t look like the kind of guy who would allow anything resembling a coo being directed at him. Though, Mike might have to rethink that assumption, because while Derek is raising one murderous eyebrow, the smile has returned again.

“I am his favourite annoyance,” Stiles announces proudly. “It’s wonderful how much bugging someone can do.”

And all of them would have guessed Derek was the one, who had pursued Stiles, but here Stiles is, telling them all about how he is a master at befriending people and Derek honestly needed someone to tell him how horrible he was at decorating or socializing, before fixing it for him.

Beside him, Nikki mutters: “Dear god, he has an ‘I can fix him’-mentality. We’re doomed.”

“I heard that!” Stiles exclaims indignantly, though he doesn’t deny it per se. But when Nikki’s soda arrives, it explodes in her face and Mike would almost suspect Stiles had something to do with it if he had to go off the smug look.

They drop the topic of Stiles injuries and apparent husband, for the evening, which Stiles seems grateful for at least, before catching him up on campus gossip. Still, they keep their eye on him and it’s hard to forget with his face all fucked up.

When they leave, Maya leans in and whispers to Mike: “Keep an eye on him for us, okay?”

He nods quickly, before hurrying after Stiles, who is yelling at him to hurry or he’ll drive back without him.

Mike also keeps his word, so when Stiles’ phone starts to ring, he pretends to be engrossed in his book, while secretly keeping an ear on Stiles’ conversation. He usually doesn’t listen in, unless something is so weird it breaks through his mental barriers, but he feels like this can be an exception.

“Hey there, big guy,” Stiles greets, voice much gentler than Mike ever remembered it being.

“Yeah, worrywolf, I’m fine,” Stiles tells whoever is on the other side. “Dad wouldn’t have let me drive otherwise and neither would you for that matter. You checked me yourself before letting me go, quite thoroughly I might add.”

And that last part is definitely an innuendo, dear god, Mike did not want to know that. However, it is confirmation that it’s Derek on the line, so he listens even harder.

“I know I overdid it, but no one got hurt except a few bruises on me,” Stiles argues. “And I get hurt even when I’m not in danger, you know how doors and the air are my biggest enemies. Come on, Derek. If it was bad, I would have told you. We promised remember? You made it part of our vows, because you are a complete softie.”

Okay, Mike isn’t going to lie, that’s actually pretty cute and he slightly hates that he’s becoming team Derek when all he knows is that he was (falsely) arrested for murder and married to Stiles, who comes running home when called on.

“I promise not to run into danger again,” Stiles tells Derek. “Well, I promise not to run needlessly into danger again and honestly one could argue that this time wasn’t needlessly, because you are my damsel in distress as much as you want to cast me in that roll.” A beat. “Yes, I will never let you forget the pool, we discussed this.”

“Yes, Derek, I always take care of my wounds,” Stiles rolls his eyes. “I’ll even send you picture updates and call you every day. How does that sound?”

Oh god, Derek is actually a concerned boyfriend – excuse me, husband – who needs updates and called the day Stiles left because he was worried. Mike is never going to be able to tell the others that without it turning into a riot.

“Great, because I am going to bed,” Stiles says. “Midterms are coming up and while spending time with you is a hundred times better, I actually need to pass these if I ever want to get a degree. So, goodbye, I love you.”

A bit of silence, then a very love-filled chuckle: “Of course I’m going to think of you. I always sleep better with you, you know that. Now bye. Love you, again and always.”

Fucking hell, Mike is going to die of a toothache, caused by his happily married roommate, which is honestly where his life is at right now.

Though, Mike can honestly live with a weird roommate. It’s a source of entertainment and he now can rest knowing Stiles has someone watching out for him, preventing him from going off the deep end, which was an honest concern.

Stiles is weird, but with what Mike knows, he’s allowed to be a bit strange and he honestly doesn’t want to know more than he does.

A/N:

Disclaimer: I am not shitting on parties, if you like them, go nuts. I just don’t drink and hate social interaction, so I wouldn't know how to write a good party scene even if I wanted to, lmao.

Idk how well it came through, but Stiles is magic and burned his hands while overdoing it in the fight he got injured in. He also totally exploded Nikki’s drink as petty revenge, his herbs are also related to magic.

#rr writing #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #sterek #derek x stiles #teen wolf stiles #derek hale #OCs #college student stiles stillinski

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sewinrat · 7 months

Note

Randal x Unhinged!Human!Reader who just loves how weird and feral he is.

I just think the idea is funny af

Whoever sent this, I love you - this gotta be my favourite request so far. If anyone remembers kindergarten game, that's how technically unhinged you'll act.

"Hey, you wanna try some dirt?" You offered a handful of dirt to some random kid with glasses. You grinned brightly as your face is covered in dirt, mud and grass. The said random kid grinned unnervingly yet cutely and exclaim in happiness, "Yes please!" He snatched the dirt from your hands and eat it quickly, making his glasses titled and face messy.

You laugh in glee and continue to play with the ground, now with a fun company who had introduced himself as Randal. A funny friend indeed. He rants on and on about his fun adventures, especially with his family or whoever this 'Satoru' is. In exchange for listening, he listens to your rants about your messed up school that experiments on children but you managed to blow it up with some game cards. It's a fun silly story telling you both had.

Soon after, you meet his family because Randal didn't came home before curfew so they had to physically pick him up. Literally. The cat with the 'Nevada' on his shirt picked him up by the collar and Randal started to struggle while whining about wanting to play more. Luther promises that you both will meet again, he just cannot go home late at night or else. You piped in saying you can visit his house sometimes, bringing the infamous card game you told him about with you to play. Luckily, Luther allowed you to visit and now you basically feel like you live there instead and visit home with how much sleepovers you both had.

"Wanna try some sand?" You offered to Randal as he stand his doll. He rapidly nods, "Yum! Yes please!" And you spoon fed him while he works on a 'very important' thing he's making.

#more ppl start making ranfren x reader pls I'm going more and more inactive #ranfren #randal’s friends #ranfren x reader #x reader #randal ivory #randal von ivory #randal x reader #ranfren randal #sincerely sewer rat #this has no plot

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patrollingboston · 2 months

Note

Hi there! Could you write a fic where Soap comforts/tends for your wounds?

I WOULD DIE

thanks :)

Hope you enjoy!

Stitched Up // Soap x Reader fluff

I had just returned from a particularly rough mission, lesions spread all over my body in various shapes and sizes making every step painful. It was late at night and the base was empty, hallway lights flickered on and off as I trod my way through them to my room. My combat boots were caked in mud, my laces slung over the side causing a trip hazard for myself as if I wasn’t clumsy enough already.

My hand was held to the side of my torso, I received a gash during some hand-to-hand combat with an enemy who managed to get the jump on me. My teammate had dealt with it as best as they could but it would still require a trip to med bay, possibly the worst place in the base. The lights were so bright, the staff were all assholes with no empathy and the food tasted like it was leftovers from World War one. Hopefully it would just need a stitch or two and I could be on my way but they were so uptight I wouldn’t be surprised if they put me in a medically induced coma and gave me 4 weeks to live.

As I got to my room, I slumped my backpack down so relieved at the loss of a weeks’ worth of supplies strapped to my back. I decided to head to med bay straight away to get it over with, knowing me I would procrastinate it until I bled out.

As I was slowly making my way to the medical centre, I heard a couple of voices heading my way. I sighed knowing there was no way I could avoid conversation. As the voices got louder two men rounded the corner, I was pleased to see it was only Soap and Gaz two friends of mine.

“For real they sent him off for a bullshit reason, it was just- “

Their conversation stopped as their gaze ran from my boots up to my face. I removed my hand from my side showcasing the small patch of blood I was sporting to give a half-hearted wave and pathetic smile.

“You alright there F/N? What happened?”

Gaz spoke up, walking carefully towards me his eyes lingering on my torso. Soap following a few steps behind.

“Just got back from the mission from hell, I got to get this stitched.”

I say rubbing my eyes, my skin so dry from the dirt I had yet to wash off.

“Shit, Med Bay is shut for cleaning for the night, something about an inspection. It reopens in the morning. Price has a kit in his office, I could do it for you?”

Soap said his voice laced in concern. I cursed under my breathe, I was so tired I just wanted to take a hot shower and clean myself up and fall asleep for the next few days. Soap stood scanning my face trying to read it for an answer whilst Gaz stood beside him doing the same.

“You sure? I don’t want to interrupt whatever you two are up to.”

“Oh nah, we were just ranting about a footie match we watched earlier. Cmon’ lets get you sorted out.”

“I’ll catch you later Soap, feel better F/N.”

Gaz spoke before jogging down the hall towards the barracks.

Soap placed a gentle hand on my back guiding me towards Prices office.

“Old man never locks his office, don’t tell him I told you that.”

Soap chuckled as he pushed open the creaky door to Captain Prices office. I treaded inside before walking over to the leather sofa placed at the back of the office and slumping down against the worn cushions upon the sofa. Soap was rooting around Captain Price’s desk draws looking for his medical kit.

“Reeks of cigars in here.”

“Don’t know what else you’re expecting.”

He said solely focused on finding the medical kit.

“Ah hah, got it.”

He held it up with one arm shaking it a little, a wide smile spread across his face.

“Roll up your shirt, let’s see the damage.”

I obliged and rolled up the bottom of my shirt revealing my wounded side.

“Ooh tough one, aren’t you? Gonna leave a pretty badass scar F/N.”

He said with squinted eyes as he inspected the wound across my torso.

“I try to be, now stop trying to butter me up and get it over with.”

“Alright alright.”

Soap rolled his eyes before cleaning the gash with a wipe, it stung making me tense up and take a deep breathe.

“Fuck me.”

“Take me to dinner first.”

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes, I have always admired how soap can make the best of situations. Only he could make me stifle a laugh whilst getting stitches in my stomach.

I sat there wincing at every stab of the needle hoping it would be over soon. Soap doing it definitely made me feel more relaxed than some random nurse. I trusted him and quite liked him despite his awful jokes and silly haircut.

“Almost done now lass, you want a sticker or a lollipop after?”

“I know you’re joking but after the week I’ve had, yes please.”

“Between you and me I got a parcel sent yesterday, got bags of sweets in it, fancy a movie at mine?”

I smiled and gently nodded, regardless of my exhaustion and need to be alone I could also use some comfort and right now he sounded like the best source of it.

“There.”

He patted my shoulder gently before rolling my shirt back down, he looked up at my tired, dirty face and gave a sympathetic smile before pushing on my knee to stand up and throwaway the rubbish.

“Good to go?”

“Yep.”

We walked out of prices office ensuring to leave no trace of us sneaking in. We roamed the hallways nattering about nothing and everything on the way back to the barracks.

#call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty fanfic #call of duty fluff #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #cod fanfiction #cod fanfic #cod modern warfare #simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #captain price #gaz garrick

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wanderer-is-love · 1 month

Text

Okay wait hear me out WoF community

I have this entire this where sky wings have Gaelic armor [stuff like chainmail, traditional, often formed by welding]

SeaWings have the strawish armor of Pacific Islanders with the occasional embroidery on it for style [due to inability to weld]

mud wings with northern Native American stuff [bones and furs often used as a sense of pride and strength] {{another random hyper fixation that is somewhat related is mud wings love using heron and quail feathers as earrings, along with crocodile skin}}

night wings use more Norse/viking-like armor [with the welded metal plates but furs underneath with the occasional leather.]

rain wings never wore armor because it would heavily give away their camouflage

sand wings used A LOT of chainmail like they did in the Middle East and Egypt to handle with the intense heat [ with the occasional cot or fabric on it]

IceWings were smart probs and got welded materials from the sky wings, decorating them once they arrived [ most pieces of armor were very big and decorative, think of like the armor in Southeast Asia with often had gold patterns and symbols on it with robes.]

If anyone makes art out of these ideas, please tag me in the post!

Thank you for listening to my rant bookies <3

#wof #wings of fire #wof design #wof rant #wings of fire rant #wings of fire style #wof style #wof wings of fire #hear me out #wings of fire headcanons #armor #armor headcannons #armor design

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faiirybread · 19 days

Text

the bottom ; liam lawson #40

childhood friends are hard to break off. but when she’s dragging his name through the mud he might have to put his foot down.

inspired by the bottom by gracie abrams

tw!! major alcoholism, you’re an asshole for a good 2/3rds of this

part of the shriveled roses series

yourusername just posted!

night out with the girls got a lil too crazy

liked by liamlawson30, landonorris, and others

user01: oh so they were DRINKING drinking

user02: they’re actually so iconic for that

user03: nothin iconic about alcoholism babes

liamlawson30: i see that promo

yourusername: u know it 🤭🤭

user04: shes just a party girl in a boring world!

yourusername: u know me so well love

user05: it’s so weird how she has alcohol in every post.. just promoting alcoholism at this point

yourusername: girl gtfo, just because i like to drink doesn’t mean im an alcoholic. you know jackshit about me, stop acting like you do, you crusty bitch

user05: i say something about worrying about you and your automatic response is to call me a bitch? reall mature

yourusername: i dont need you to worry about me. im an adult, i can do whatever the hell i want.

user05: well when your posting your life on social media your gonna get judged

yourusername: it’s a post about me going out and partying. i'm an adult who likes to drink. there’s gonna be fucking alcohol you dumb twat.

user06: damn her whole attitude is just bad huh

user07: gonna talk about making out with lando soon?

f1gossip just posted!

BREAKING: LANDO NORRIS AND YN YLN SEEN MAKING OUT AND LEAVING PARTY IN MONACO TOGETHER

user01: liam seeing this like 😧😧

user02: who is she?

user03: liam lawson (redbull reserve driver)‘s childhood best friend. she’s known for partying a lot but lately it s gotten a lot worse 😬

user04: wasn’t she running her mouth about lando a few weeks ago??

user05: wait what spill

user04: a fan came up to her a few weeks ago and asked what she thought of some of the other drivers like lando, and she said he was a shit driver and should retire so liam gets a seat

user05: whattt that's so messed up. Who does she think she is??

You woke up with a headache, wrapped in sheets to your phone going off with a call. With a groan you grabbed your phone and answered it without looking at who it was. “What do you want?” you slurred, and was answered with Liam yelling at you.

“What the fuck is this?? You made out with Lando after saying some shit about him to a fan??”

You groaned, rolling over in bed to find your latest hookup gone. “Liam, it doesn’t matter. I’m fine, ok?”

“That’s not the point! You can’t just say whatever the fuck you want to people who are recording you, and you especially can’t bring me into it!” he ranted, and you could hear him pacing in his house. “Honestly, saying Lando should retire so I get a seat? Are you crazy??”

You sat up, rubbing your head. Hangovers were the worst thing in the world. “God, Liam, just loosen up! It’ll all blow over, ok? Don’t worry. I’ll lay low for a while, stop posting and shit, and they’ll forget about me.”

He answered immediately at that, quick to shoot it down. “No, no! You can’t just sweep it under the rug! This isn’t the first time you’ve done this, and it’s fucking with my career. Helmut’s talked to me about you, and about how you’re screwing up my chances for the Redbull seat.”

“Helmut’s a prick.”

“Maybe, but he’s right!”

“What the hell?!” You couldn’t believe what he was saying! Of all the times to call, the morning after you get shitfaced? You hadn’t even done anything bad. Yeah, you drank a lot. Who cares? You’re an adult, doing adult things.

“It’s the truth! You always get wasted, say some shit to media, and make me look like a fucking jerk! I'm tired of it, ok? It’s like you’re on a mission to fuck up my life! But I can never get mad at you because I’ve known you for forever and my whole family knows you and your whole family knows me and they’d crucify me if I ever made you sad or shit. Because you’re a spoiled brat!”

You sat there shocked at the outburst, opening your mouth to respond but he wasn’t done. A spoiled brat? Since when?!

“Ever since we were kids you’ve had someone like your brother, or your dad, or me to fix everything that you’ve broken. And it’s tiring! I’m not your nanny!”

You stood up at this, frustration turned up to the max. “I’m not asking you to be! I’ve never asked you to do that for me!”

“It’s not about you asking, it’s about you fucking my shit up and leaving it. It's like when you broke that vase at my parents house and didn’t say anything! I had to clean it up. I always have to clean it up. On Thursday I'll probably be asked about your behavior and have to make some answer to clear your name and make me look like I'm not a total prick.”

He stopped, and you could hear him breathing heavily. Shocked, you just gaped at the phone before saying calmly, “You could’ve told me this. Anytime before this you could’ve told me to shut up, to calm down, to do anything.”

“Oh, my, god. Are you fucking stupid?! Did you listen to anything I said?! I shouldn’t have to tell you not to talk to media! I shouldn’t have to tell you not to make out with my competitors! You’re an adult, so fucking act like one! Think a little!”

With that, he disconnected the call, leaving you bewildered, in an empty bed with an aching headache.

yourusername just posted!

mornin after

Liked by landonorris4, user6, and others

user01: girl.. we need a response

user02: no liam like 😮

user03: he probs got tired of her running his name

user04: soo what were you saying about lando being shit??

user05: i am SO here for the yn slander yall dont know how long ive been waiting for this

It was a few hours after the call, when you had taken a shower, had a meal, and worked off your hangover when you decided to call Liam. I mean, if he could yell at you like that then you can too, right? Honestly, him bringing up stuff from your childhood was so uncalled for. That was in the past, so leave it there!

You sat down at your kitchen table with your phone, took a deep breath, and pressed the call button on his contact. It rang once, twice, a third time, then went to his voicemail.

An automated message began playing, and you pressed the button to hang up. What a jerk! You tried to call him again, and again, and again, but each time it went to his voicemail. You got dressed and went outside, deciding to take a walk around town outside.

It had been a few hours before you had decided to call him again, this time with a notepad of all the points you were going to make to prove him wrong. Tapping a pen against the pad, you pressed the call button on your phone, then the speaker button. It rang once, twice, a third time, then went to voicemail. You hung up and tried again. Again, and again, and again until you got a different answer. Your head laying down on your arm, you reached out and tapped the call button again, and it rang once, then went to voicemail.

You sat up. One ring? Did he seriously block you? You tried it again, hoping it was just an error. One ring, then voicemail, over and over and over. What an ass!

yourusername just posted

don’t need your bs

liked by user1, user2, and others

user1 ‘don’t need your bs’ and it’s friends being concerned about her

user2 oh.. another party

user3 is it just me that’s genuinely concerned?

user4 nono me too, liam and lando both stopped liking and she seems like she’s just drinking away

user5 and the answers from liam during the press conference,, like somethings wrong..

liammm🏎️

hey, are you alright?

this isn’t me forgiving you for anything im just worried about you

party animal 🎉

fuskkc off

liammm🏎️

are you at a party rn?

party animal 🎉

art s parlk

jus me amd a borttle

liammm🏎️

love cmon

you can’t keep doing this

party animal 🎉

i kmow

but idk

yiu should get bscl to work

liammm🏎️

send your location please

party animal🎉

you werr rifht

i’ve been using you

im sirry liam

liammm🏎️

love please just send me your location

i want to make sure you get home safe

we can talk more in the morning

party animal 🎉

im sorry liam

*location*

You were sitting on a bench, a bottle of korean soju next to you. It was halfway drained, but when Liam texted you it reminded you of everything that had happened and you couldn’t bear to drink more. Staring out at the playground, bright colors muted in the dark light of the moon, just thinking. About your life, your choices, your family. About Liam. It really wasn’t his fault, everything that happened. He had been right. You did use him as a nanny, badmouthing coworkers and dragging his name through the mud. Even now, he was picking you up in the dead of night because you chose to go out and get drunk by yourself. It wasn’t like there was anyone who wanted to drink with you anymore.

You turned around when you heard your name called, to see Liam jogging over to you. “Are you alright?”

You nodded glumly, looking up at him with tears in your eyes. How could you do this to him? He looked tired, and disappointed. You’d seen that look in your other friends, but in Liam it hurt so much more.

“C’mon, let’s get you home,” he said, reaching for your arms and gently pulling you up. “I’m sorry Liam,” you said, looking at him, slightly dazed. Why were you doing this drunk? Why couldn’t you do this sober? A pit of guilt grew and grew in your stomach as he ignored what you said, grabbing the bottle and beginning to walk you to the car. Of course he ignored it. This wasn’t the first time you said this. But this was the first time you meant it. Or had drunk you said that before? You stopped.

“Liam, I’m serious.”

He sighed and looked back at you. “I know.” Somehow that made it 10 times worse, and with a wobbly lip, you asked, “Have I said that before?” He nodded, then started walking with you again. “Let’s talk more in the morning.” It struck a cord, how quickly he shut it down. All of this had happened before. How did you not remember? How much of your life had you given to alcohol?

Liam helped you into the passenger seat, and started to help you buckle up, but you stopped him. You wanted to prove that tonight was different. “I got it,” you said quietly. He nodded and walked around to the driver’s side, driving you back to your apartment. The whole time, you were racking your brain for other times like this, just a little bit that you could remember. It hurt your head, and when you came up empty the pit in your stomach deepened.

“How many times have I done this?” you asked quietly as he pulled into the parking garage. He took a second to answer, and said, “I lost count.”

Fuck.

He parked and you got out on your own, stumbling a bit but refusing his help to the elevator and up to your apartment. Was this new? Was he impressed, did he see a change? Or were you thinking like this every night he came to pick you up? You unlocked the door and let the two of you in to the front room that had bottles and trash scattered everywhere, but Liam stopped in the doorway. You turned to look at him.

“I’ll come back in the morning with some food, we can talk then. Are you alright?”

You nodded, and he nodded, then he closed the door behind him as he left. You began cleaning yourself up, washing your face and taking a shower, then cleaning your apartment. It felt like you had been floating in the apartment, not really paying attention to it. You cleaned through the night, not wanting Liam to see the apartment like this when he came back. You had brewed yourself a strong coffee by the time he knocked on your door, and you took your time answering, scanning the whole apartment to make sure it was clean. It was, so you opened the door.

Liam was standing there with takeout from a nearby bakery. He already looked tired. Did he get any sleep last night? Could he see that you didn’t? You have a small smile and stepped aside to let him in. As he scanned the apartment, you took the food and began plating it. Leading him to the kitchen island to eat, he started talking.

“Do you remember last night?”

“Yes.” He didn’t seem convinced.

“I was at the park drinking. You came and picked me up, I asked you how many times you had to do that, you couldn’t remember and wanted to talk about things today. You dropped me off here and said you’d be back in the morning with breakfast so we could talk. Now it’s morning.”

Surprise flashed behind his eyes for a second, but just as quick he steeled himself.

“Did I remember it before?” you asked, looking down at your plate.

“No.”

Just one word told you everything. You had gone too far too many times. “You don’t have to do this Liam. I don’t want to drag you back to me like this.”

He didn’t speak, just ate his breakfast. It was sausage and eggs, with a side of fruit. Yours was a chocolate croissant with some strawberries. You couldn’t eat it.

“Do you want any of mine?” he asked, not looking at you. It was as if he was reading off a script. You shook your head. He sighed, put down his fork, and leaned back.

“You seem more aware this time. Did you not drink as much?” You shrugged. This whole thing felt awkward, like he was your dad after a bad night out when you broke curfew. Except that’s exactly what this was, except he was your friend.

“You were right when you called me. I’ve been using you.” “Was that why you were drinking?”

You shrugged again. You both knew it was a yes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it.

“You want to get better? Throw out your alcohol. Go to every bar and club around here and tell them to deny you entry no matter what. Stop going for drinks with your coworkers. I’d even consider rehab. You’re addicted, ok? I want you to get better.”

He was looking at you now, but you couldn’t meet his eyes. You just kept staring at the croissant. He sighed, and reached for your plate to switch your meals, but you stopped him.

“Can you come with me?” your voice was stupidly shaky, and you cursed yourself for it. “I’ll do all the talking, I just want to make sure I get all of them” He nodded. “Eat first. Did you sleep at all last night?”

You hated how you felt like a little kid, shaking your head before picking up the croissant and taking a bite. “Once we finish that, can we talk more about this? I just feel like I woke up to everything I’ve done, you know?”

“Sure.” it was a short, curt response that you knew you’d just have to accept.

A few minutes later, you finished the croissant and coffee and went to your room to change. You put on a simple outfit that would still make you look out together, but didn’t bother with makeup. Hopefully this would be over fast.

You and Liam set out around town, first going to your favorite club, The Eclipse. As you walked up, you felt your hands getting sweaty, and clenched and unclenched them until you felt Liam slip his hand in yours and give it a gentle squeeze. “You got this. It’s the first step that’s always the hardest.” You nodded, and walked up to the bouncer. After explaining to him your situation and how you were trying to quit drinking, he agreed to turn you away and call a cab for you if you turned up at the club. After thanking him profusely, you and Liam went on to the next club. And the next. And the next. It was not a short experience as you had hoped, it was long and embarrassing and tiring. Eventually you reached the last bar and confirmed with the owner that you wanted to be on the no-serve list, then turned to Liam.

He was smiling at you. It was a soft smile, but still there. You could see the pride in his eyes as he held out a hand to you, and you gladly took it, a small smile on your face too. “You did good. I’m proud of you.” He said, walking back to your apartment. “Thank you. I’m sorry it took me so long, and I'm sorry I didn’t listen to you before. I just feel so stupid for letting myself get to this point. And I feel so bad for hurting you and your career.”

“This is where you show it. Ok?” He said, shaking your intertwined hands and looking at you. “This is you showing me that you’re serious about everything you’re saying. Now you just need to stick with it and prove that you’re serious.”

You nodded, meeting his eyes with a watery smile. “I won’t hook up with Lando Norris again.”

He rolled his eyes, letting go of your hand jokingly. “Too soon, man. Too soon. Ugh. I got so many calls from Christian that day.”

“I’m sorry, truly. And I was such an ass when I answered you. And when I was like, trying to call you back. God, I just fucked up for the past 6 months. And I can’t even remember it at all! I just lost so much of my life.”

“But you’re pulling yourself out. And that means a lot to me. I’ve tried to get you to do this before, you know? You always dragged your feet and stuff.”

“Really?” You asked, looking at him with wide eyes. “See, this is what I’m talking about! I have zero recollection of that!”

He chuckled, and swung your arms as you walked. “This is a new chapter for you. I believe in you.”

FIN.

authors note.. bam! done! thank god, im so sorry this took so long.. i do have another still in the works that hopefully wont take as long but yeahh this series is gonna take forever.

#liam lawson #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #liam lawson x reader #liam lawson x y/n #liam lawson x you #rbr x reader

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lafayette-paw-arts · 2 months

Note

HCs for each of the pairings (two of the vees) in the polyvee? Like their dynamic when it's just the two of them.

Oohh, love this question!

Velvette and Valentino will debate fashion for hours while doing makeovers (Vox doesn't see the appeal) they'll watch shitty tv shows in the bathroom and pick it apart while Valentino does Velvette's hair or while she applies a mud mask onto his face. There's been more than one time where Vox has walked in on the two of them having turned the penthouse bathroom into a spa and they've used the bathtub for a mud bath.

Other times Velvette and Valentino will have intense gaming sessions competing to see who is better at (insert game here) it's always changing. They make up stupid rules, they accuse each other of cheating, they throw out random things they get if they win. (More than once Vox's ass has been a reward for winning without him even knowing they're doing this)

Valentino and Vox will rent out a whole movie theatre for themselves. They'll eat snacks, talk loudly since there's no one to shush them and they'll just rip the movie apart even if they like it.

Valentino will often drag Vox out to dinner in a dingy diner that Vox is pretty sure wouldn't pass any sort of health inspection even for hell, but Valentino enjoys bringing him there for a little private date so he allows it. He'd die again before admitting he likes the food there tho.

Vox will take Velvette out to fancy dinners at expensive or trendy resturants and they'll talk for hours about almost anything. He's very charming not that Velvette would ever admit it out loud of her own accord. Then they'll usually end the night getting gelatto from Velvette's favourite place and slowly walking back to the tower continuing to talk, maybe a little lighthearted teasing thrown in.

There has been a few times when Vox has convinced Velvette to "play spies" with him. He'll allow her to dress them both up in whatever spy outfit she wants, and their task is to snatch something off Valentino without him noticing them, funnily enough they've yet to succeed, but they've gotten close before, they find it fun.

As for the dynamics there's a couple of fun things

Velvette and Valentino being the chaotic gossipy bitches who have been trying to come up with a way to get Alastor’s head on a silver platter for Vox- as an anniversary gift

Velvette and Val are chaotic people- more so when Vox isn’t around to reign them in. He has gotten calls from a fucking imp prison because Velvette ended up here… with Valentino’s encouragement

Velvette and Vox- They are… weirdly calm. Velvette seems to almost feed off the energy in the room. So if Vox is calm she’s pretty much on the same wavelength. Sometimes they’ll just sit there and scroll through social media or work. (Just kind of enjoying being in the same space even if not actively doing something together)

When Velvette isn’t calm it’s a different story. Long rants- sometimes telling Vox to find a universal remote and mute himself. He knows to just sit and listen and wait so they can talk rationally about it.

Valentino and Vox are not on the same wavelength but simultaneously are. They don’t need to talk to do a task together because they’ve known each other so long. If they are cooking together for example: (more like Vox is cooking and Val is handing him things) Valentino will rant and rant to Vox about the studio. And Vox will passively listen and make him see logic by treating him like a toddler sometimes. Meanwhile, they’re flawlessly handing each other things they need. Whisk? Handed over. Valentino shutting a pantry door that Vox almost backs into

It’s no offence to Velvette but most of the time if Vox is angry he goes to Valentino. Even if it’s not the smartest move. Sometimes you need someone to be angry with you. To take you to a shooting range or axe throwing or something. To a damn rage room (that’s not recommended for Vox anymore because Val almost hit him with a bat.)

Hope I gave you what you wanted!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin valentino #hazbin velvette #the vees #valentino #vox #poly headcanons #polyamory #staticmediamoth #staticmoth #mediastatic #mediamoth

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everwitch-magiks · 3 months

Note

Hi I love your RWRB stories.

How about for the AU fun facts game a high school AU and one of them is the popular jock and the other is the unpopular nerd?

Hi there, and thank you! ♡ What a lovely idea! Here goes:

It's when Henry scores a touchdown at homecoming that Alex falls in love with him. Not because of the touchdown itself - fuck knows Alex doesn't care about sports - but because of the way Henry looks after. The big fancy screens in the Fox Memorial Stadium show an absolutely irresistible closeup; Henry covered in mud and grinning from ear to ear, his happiness contagious as he pumps his fist in the air. He looks like he doesn't have a care in the world. It's wonderful to see. It so far from what Henry's expression has been for the past year - since they had reason to rename that goddamn stadium in the first place.

They meet in the school library. Although meet isn't really the word for it. Alex is late from his practice session with the mathlethes and is half-running so he won't miss too much of this week's model UN. Henry is holding court for his many adoring fans right by the classics section. And maybe it's an accident that Henry trips Alex over and makes everyone laugh, but that doesn't change the fact that it happens. Alex bats Henry's hand when Henry tries to help him to his feet. He hurries away; he's fucking late. And he's got much more important concerns than self-obsessed jocks who can't stay out of people's way. Even when they're as pretty as Henry.

Alex doesn't expect Henry to seek him out after that. Henry's got literally no reason to, not least because Alex is absolutely nobody. Henry, on the other hand, is more popular than the goddamn school mascot - no offense to the indomitable Mr. Wobbles, a most ferocious kitty, but he's got nothing on a certain Fox. But Henry waits by Alex's locker every day for a week. First to apologize, then to continue their conversation about sci-fi movies, then to ask Alex to lunch with him, then to lend Alex his copy of "Girl, Woman, Other", and finally to invite Alex to his next game. Alex rolls his eyes and goes on a rant about unequal school funding for dumb sports versus everything else. It's only when Alex gets to his math class that he realizes Henry might've just asked him out.

Pez is cheer captain and choreographs a whole routine for the sole purpose of wooing June. June is absent from the game as she's away at a student journalism meet. Sadness ensues. Henry comforts Pez. They stay in the locker room and feast on a bucket of popcorn until the coach finally kicks them out. They both miss Alex who was waiting with flowers outside.

Alex attempts to return Henry's copy of "Girl, Woman, Other" to Pez in order to avoid speaking to Henry. He must've misunderstood. Henry hadn't asked him out after all. It was all in his head. But Pez, who's great at spotting prime opportunities for grand gestures, springs to action. He quickly repurposes the cheer squad's 'woo June' routine to a grand promposal starring none other than Henry Fox. Pez isn't a man to let a good split-lift go to waste - especially not when it could help his best mate find true love. Henry declines performing the split-lift, which is his loss, but he does perform the promposal. Alex is speechless. He kisses Henry for the first time in the middle of the football field. For Henry's next game, Alex shows up with the classic game day face paint: grey whiskers (inspired by none other than Mr. Wobbles) and a blue heart on his right cheek. The way Henry kisses him after their win gets them both banned from the dance that same evening. Whoops. The football team, the cheer squad and the mathlethes all ditch the dance as a result. Pez organizes an expertly decorated alternative gathering within a minute and a half. It is technically impossible, but nobody thinks to question it. They all dance the night away. The end.

... okay, so this isn't five things that happens in the AU as much as the whole plot of it, but I did list it as five bullet points, so go me? And in any case, this was very fun! Thank you again for the ask! ♡

#firstprince #red white and royal blue #rwrb #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #fanfiction #evie writes #alternate universe #ask game #answered

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urtheoneiwant · 2 years

Text

Buckle Bunny of Sorts │ Rhett Abbott

Genre: SMUT with some fluff

Summary: From the insistence of a friend, you spend a night out on the town. But you run into your long time crush, Rhett Abbott, and he has something to tell you.

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ ONLY! P in v, oral sex (female receiving), small spit kink, dirty talk, degradation, praise, kinda dom!Rhett and sub!reader, use of term 'buckle bunny', pining, revealing feelings, unprotected sex, pull-out method (be smart! don't use pull-out method as a form of birth control irl), messy sex, pet names (bunny, baby), a smidge of sexism from the towns people? Written as a fem!reader. Just nasty, nasty filth.

Word Count: 5.6k

A/N: My first smut! Please be kind, I'm still very new to writing and especially smut. But I loved Outer Range and I saw someone post about wanting to be Rhett's buckle bunny and couldn't get this out of my head. I didn't want country girl (as I call her) to be an actually buckle bunny since they are sort of frowned upon (but I say you do you). So this is the idea I came up with instead. It took me forever to write this, but I'm pretty proud of it. In conclusion, I love Lewis Pullman and the characters he plays. Go watch Outer Range if you like Lewis, he's amazing in it and it is such a great show! Now I have to go bathe in holy water :) Oh and feel free to send in any request or thoughts you have about Top Gun or other characters. There is a list on my page of the main fandoms I'm into, but you can send whatever you want it and I've might have seen/read it. And you can always reach out to me for whatever (rants, ideas, links to articles about be we're obsessed with) Thanks for the support!

SMUT BELOW CUT. 18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

(GIF is not mine)

Admittedly, you felt a bit stupid. In your head, this seemed like a good idea, but as the idea becomes a reality you mentally kick yourself for it.

You’ve grown up in Amelia county your entire life. And in a place like this, people tend to stick to their roots, inner circle, and cliques. That being said, you knew just about everyone in your town, and definitely knew every boy your age. The problem was that they knew you too. Growing up you were definitely an outcast. Spending all your free time working to help pay the bills didn’t give you many chances to make friends. You were boring, safe. You knew it. You weren’t anything to write home about. At least that’s what you told yourself.

Last week you sat with the one friend you managed to make throughout your time in school, Sadie, and spilled these thoughts to her.

“That’s bullshit honey, and you know it.” Leave it to Sadie to soften the blow. “I’m sorry, but you are beautiful, any guy would be lucky to have you. But you spend all your time holed up at work or with me. These guys haven’t got a proper look at you since you hit puberty, no wonder they don’t seem interested.” She lectured.

“Well, what am I supposed to do about that? Get all dolled up for a night on the town? Look around, it’d be ridiculous” You replied.

“Come on, let me take you out. Just throw on some daisy dukes, a risky top, and some nice boots. It’ll be fun. And I’ll personally beat the shit out of anyone who has anything bad to say. Please, please, please…” And you knew that when Sadie was like this, you had no choice but to give in. So you agreed, one night out.

And that’s how you found yourself in your apartment letting Sadie pick out your outfit. She refused to tell you where you both were going, claiming that she didn’t want you to “get scared off.” And after opening the door wearing a pair of worn-out jeans and mud-covered boots, Sadie pushed her way inside to make you change.

She rifled through your dresser before holding up the tiniest pair of shorts you own. “No way, those are from high school. I don't even think they’ll fit. Plus it’s late out, why would I want to wear shorts?” You tried to reason with her, you really did.

“They may not fit you like they did in high school, but that’s the point, honey. Just trust me this once. Everyone is going to be all over you.” She replied, and handed you the shorts. As you began to wiggle them up she quietly added “Oh, and Rhett’s going to be there.”

You froze in place, glaring at your friend. “WHAT? Oh my god. Oh my god. I can’t believe you.” Rhett fucking Abbott. The cowboy that you had been crushing on since middle school. Ever since the day he saw you walking home late after babysitting for a little cash and offered, no insisted, on walking you home. He was a few years ahead of you and happened to be friends with your older brother. Anytime he would come round your house to see your brother you would find yourself with your ear pressed to your door, trying to catch any of the words he was saying. Your eyes always seemed to wander outside your window to see if he was out back throwing a ball around with your brother. Once you even caught a glimpse of him shirtless after coming over to help your mom with some yard work.

Needless to say, your crush on Rhett didn’t get any better. In high school, you went out of your way to see him in the halls, or to accidentally run into him on your way home from work. You even went as far as to offer to tutor him in algebra, a class you yourself were failing. He wasn’t too keen on getting your help once your brother told him about that.

Now, Rhett had grown up and you had too. You would see him from time to time at the bar you worked at, always polite and asking about your family. And even now, you couldn’t help the butterflies that erupted whenever he was around. Some crushes just don’t go away.

“You’ve been into him since 8th grade! I can’t believe you haven’t made a move yet. It’s time to put your big girl panties on and do something. Hell, screw someone else for all I care. All I know is that if I have to watch you make puppy dog eyes at Rhett from across a room one more time, I’m going to lose my mind.” Sadie said. But that was the problem. No matter how many guys you went out with, or screwed, you always came back to Rhett. Honestly, you could see why it was so exhausting for your friend to watch all the time, it was a bit pathetic being a grown woman with a crush from middle school.

Deciding to listen to your friend and do something about your pining over him, you buttoned up your shorts and turned to look in the mirror. Sadie was right, they don’t fit as they did in high school. Where they used to be a bit loose on you, they now held on to every curve you had. Damn, when did you get an ass? Swallowing your nerves, you shoved your feet into your white boots that only appeared on special occasions. To top it off, you threw on an old flannel opting to tie it up and undo the top couple of buttons to let a bit of your cleavage spill out.

“Now, that is hot. He’s going to be drooling over you, just wait” Sadie hyped you up. She reached up and messed your hair up just a bit, giving it a wind-swept look before ushering you out to her truck.

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

After driving for a half hour, Sadie pulled into a dirt parking lot. You saw lights flashing, and heard cheering coming from the stadium seats. She took you to a fucking rodeo. Dressed in booty shorts.

“This is a joke. I look like a goddamn buckle bunny for christ's sake.” You curse out to her. She has the audacity to simply smirk back and says,

“Bout time you start acting like one.” And with that, she was out of the car and walking towards the show. With no other option but to sit and stew in the truck all night, you reluctantly hop out too. You curse under your breath and begin to tell Sadie that this is the last time you go anywhere with her without knowing before what she had planned.

Walking into the crowd, you felt your throat dry. You could feel people staring and you swore you heard a whisper that said “Is that Bruce’s daughter, Y/N?”. Suddenly, you became very interested in kicking the gravel under your boots.

Sadie did her best to reassure you, grabbing your hand and weaving you to a back lot. The crowd was sparse back here, and it looked like most of the guys hanging around were bull riders getting ready. “I don’t think we should be back here,” you said into Sadie’s ear and moved to pull your hand out of her grasp. But before you could she whipped you back around.

“This is it Y/N. Scout out which one of these boys you’re going to be riding tonight” She said with a wink. You let your eyes briefly scan the group. None of them noticed you two seeing as you were tucked a ways away. You made out a few familiar faces but you had no desire to talk to, let alone seduce, any of these guys. As you opened your mouth to inform your friend of this, your eyes caught something. Not something, but someone.

Standing slightly turned away from you and chatting with some other rider, you saw Rhett. Maybe it was because you only got to see him in dim-lit bars nowadays, but you swore he somehow was more attractive than you remembered.

He wore a blue flannel with the sleeves rolled up, allowing you to see the veins run down his arms. You got a flash of the tattoo on his forearm, the one you imagined so often at night when thinking of him. He had his chaps on, the fringe down the sides fluttering ever so slightly in the wind. His signature black hat was perched on his head. At that moment, you swear you could’ve died.

You didn’t realize how long you had been staring until Sadie gave you a nudge. “Close your mouth or you’ll attract flies,” she said. It was then you noticed that you in fact had been standing there with your jaw on the floor admiring this man. Your eyes stayed locked on his figure as you gave him a once-over. God, he was gorgeous. Even with the layers of clothes he had on you could tell how lean and strong he was.

As your gaze made your way back up to his face, you were now looking right into his bright blue eyes. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He caught you. He fully caught you drooling over him. And just when it couldn’t get any worse, the fucker had a smirk plastered on his face and sent a wink your way. You averted your eyes and pretended you weren’t there, feeling a hot blush creep up your neck. But just when things couldn’t get any worse, you heard Sadie yell out, “Hey there Rhett”.

You silently prayed to the gods above that he wouldn’t walk over to you two, but it fell on deaf ears as you heard the crunch of gravel grow louder. Next thing you know he’s standing right smack in front of you. “Hi there Sadie, how’s your ma?” he asked, his southern drawl heavy.

“She’s well, thanks for asking. You know Y/N right? You were friends with her brother growing up” Sadie tried to segue. You forced yourself to bring your eyes up to meet his.

“Well of course I do, how could I forget a face as pretty as that?” Your eyes snapped to meet his. No way, there was no way Rhett Abbott was flirting with you. He was just being nice, that’s all.

“Oh um, hi. Good to see you.” You muttered out, full of nerves. Sadie cleared her throat and you thought back to her earlier lecture. Maybe it was finally time for you to get out there. Stop playing it so safe all the time. Stop feeling so sorry for yourself. So with some more confidence mustered you blurted out “I hope you do good tonight. I’m sure you will.”

Without missing a beat he responded, “Oh now that I know you’re here I definitely will. Always ride better when I know a gorgeous girl like you is watching.” His words sent heat blooming between your thighs. Fully committing to the act you took a step toward him and leaned up onto your toes to whisper in his ear.

“Well if you win, we’ll have to celebrate. Why don’t you come to find me after you finish up? Let me give you a victory prize.” You did your best to put on the most sultry voice you had. And despite the confidence you were exuding, you were scared shitless deep down. As soon as the words left your mouth, you were off. You swayed your hips a bit as you went to find a seat, knowing that he would be looking.

You didn’t dare look back until you reached the arena seats. Sadie guided you to sit down amongst the crowd, all waiting for the show to begin. And just as she opened her mouth to ask you what happened you whisper out “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Oh come on, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad at all.” She whispered trying to not draw any attention.

“Oh no. It was bad. Very very very bad. Can’t show my face around here again bad. Have to leave the country bad.” You felt bile rise up in your throat. You turn to your friend and recount to her what you had just told the man of your dreams. It was like word vomit, you couldn’t stop freaking out and rambling.

“Y/N. STOP. Take a breath. The worst case he says no, he leaves once he’s done tonight. At least you know you tried. But you’re forgetting that he could be just as into you. And from the way he was talking it sounds like he is. So it’s going to be fine. He’s fine, you’re fine. All we can do is sit and try to enjoy the show.” Sadie reasoned with you. And you knew she was right. So you sat there, ass freezing from the cool metal bleachers. The more you thought about her words, the more you were able to calm yourself down. What’s done is done, and you rather be rejected than never know.

The soothing mindset you were in came crashing down the second Rhett’s name rang out. He was heading out for his final ride of the night. You felt your mind go blank and body numb as you focused on the arena in front of you. Honestly, you knew very little about bull riding but the way his muscles strained and body twisted was enough to keep you interested. Timed seemed to slow as you stared at him squeezing his hips to stay on the bucking bull.

After what felt like minutes of him being tossed around, you gasped as he was uprooted from his saddle. You knew that was bound to happen with any bull riding venture, but it still startled you to see him thrown about like that. He was yanked up and led out of the arena until the bull was wrangled. When he walked back out, your tension eased seeing he was unharmed.

You locked eyes on the scoreboard and nearly fell out of your chair when you saw his score. He won, holy shit he won. You were on your feet in an instant, screaming your head off. You felt a rush of pride for him, knowing how much his bull riding meant to him. Sadie jumped with you, and you were sure you were the loudest there.

After yelling for much too long to be appropriate, Sadie gave your arm a tug. “Come on” and you, still being in a blissed-out state, let her take you back to where you first ran into Rhett that night. You looked around in the dark, eyes wide anticipating what would happen next. A chill ran up your spine as you thought about your earlier promise to Rhett if he won. Startled out of your thoughts, you heard the sound of whooping and cheers from some men around you. Cranking your neck around you spotted him.

He was caked in dirt and his sleeves were hastily pushed up, hat askew on his head that was tilted back with a wide grin. Your mouth ran dry as butterflies erupted inside you. His eyes began to scan the small crowd of people before landing on you. Burning with embarrassment and admittedly desire, you shifted your eyes elsewhere. But soon enough, you heard that all too familiar voice. “Hey there ladies.”

“Hey Rhett, congrats on the big win. Y/N and I were cheering you on” Sadie said.

“Oh, I bet y’all were. Hey Y/N, can I talk to you real quick?” Rhett turned and asked you.

With a nod of your head, he gently took your hand and pulled you under a nearby tree. Still too shy to make eye contact, he brushed his hand under your jaw and turned you to look into his blue eyes. “You know I don’t expect anything. If you want to act like nothing happened earl-”

“No” you rush out. “No, I mean I want to. If you do.” Talking to just him and him alone felt so much easier. You felt your confidence grow back and expectantly looked at him.

“Well darlin’ I would want nothing more. You want to go back to your place for a bit?” He questioned, still being gentle with you as to give you an out if you changed your mind.

“Yes please,” you murmur. You felt as though you were floating when he wrapped a strong arm around your waist and led you back over to Sadie.

“Hey Sadie, you alright if I take Y/N home? Just figure it would be nice for us to catch up.”

“Oh, sure! By all means, go ‘catch up’” Sadie had the cockiest smirk plastered on her face, and while you wanted to be mad at her for it you also know she was the whole reason you were going home with Rhett Abbott tonight.

Walking out to the parking lot, Rhett keeps his arm firmly around your midsection till you arrive at his truck. He opens the passenger door for you before walking around and getting in himself. The roar of the engine coming to life jolts you forward a bit, remembering that you were in fact about to go home and get railed by the hottest cowboy you’ve ever seen.

“What are you thinking about Bunny?” Rhett can tell you were getting lost in thought.

“What did you call me?” Surprised by the nickname and the way it made you clench your thighs even tighter.

“Bunny. You look like a buckle bunny in that getup. But it’s cute, I like it on you.” He answered honestly. On any other occasion, you would’ve been pissed that someone thought of you as a buckle bunny. You grew up on a ranch in rural Wyoming, you were the farthest thing from a buckle bunny possible. But the way Rhett talked about you made you melt.

“Oh yeah. Blame Sadie. Wanted me to get myself out there more I guess.” You replied chewing on your bottom lip.

“Well, it was definitely nice to see you outside of the bar you work at. I’ve been wanting to talk to you for the longest time but I felt weird bothering you at work.” You whipped your head around at the confession.

Staring at his side profile as he continued to drive, “That’s nice of you to say, but it’s okay you don’t have to lie.” You didn’t believe it. That a man like Rhett would be interested in talking to someone like you.

“I’m not lying. I’ve always kinda liked you. But I guess I just never acted on them. And I know we’re on our way to your place so I can rail the shit outta ya, but I’m not just interested in sex from you. Let me take you out one night? It took me long enough to make a move on you, don’t make me wait any longer.” He said with the utmost sincerity. You were stunned. Shocked. All this time you two idiots both liked each other, and it was a rodeo and a plotting friend to finally make you realize it.

“I would like that. A lot.” You smile up at him as you pull into the parking lot of your apartment complex.

Cutting off the engine, Rhett runs around to open your car door. Always a gentleman. You laced your fingers with his as you tug him upstairs to your place. You feel him placing teasing kisses on your neck and jaw when he can reach you. You giggle, moving even faster to get up the 3 flights of stairs.

When you reach the door of your apartment, you fumble around looking for your keys in your purse. When you manage to grab them, you pull them out with shaking hands cursing as they fall to the ground. Before you could bend down to retrieve them, Rhett already has them scooped up. He chuckles softly before resting his hand on your shoulder and rubbing your arm soothingly.

“You don’t need to be nervous Bunny. But I want to ask you again, are you okay with this?” He asks kindly, eyes soft and hands warm.

“More than okay.” And you pull him down by his shirt to crash your lips onto his. It was messy and desperate. Teeth clashed and tongues battled for dominance. You slid your hands up Rhett’s neck and into the curls at the back of his head tugging softly. His one arm wrapped around you and pulled you impossibly closer to his body. You recognize the faint jingle of keys through your fuzzy headspace and realize he was unlocking your front door with his tongue down your throat.

The door soon swung open and Rhett began to push your intertwined bodies inside. Stumbling in, you hear a door slam behind you before he has you pushed against a wall. His leg came in between yours, knee and thigh pressing up into your core. You let out a whine into the kiss, the feeling of him making you even wetter. In fact, you were sure you were absolutely drenched.

Seemingly reading your mind, Rhett broke the kiss to ask, “How wet are you Bunny? How wet does the idea of my cock have you? Bet you were sitting in those stands all night just soaking wet.” You merely moan in response, your brain not working fast enough to form actual words. Rhett brings his lips to your neck biting and sucking hickies into your smooth skin. You run your hands down his back to the hem of his shirt. Too impatient to unbutton his top, he leans back and pulls it over his head.

You knew Rhett was strong. After years of working at the ranch and bull riding, you expected him to be pretty muscular. But the actual sight of his abs, sharp and all edges, makes your mouth water. You tentatively place a hand on his toned chest. God, it looked like his body was made of chiseled marble. Under your hand, you feel his warmth radiating and the steady beat of his heart. When you force yourself to pull your eyes up to his, he says “Your turn.”

He places his hands on the bottom of your shirt, eyes silently asking if he could take it off. Your hands reach down and cover his, urging him to swiftly remove your top. His eyes immediately move to your breast, covered in the white lace of your bra (if you could even call the small scrap of fabric that). You hear a faint groan come from him before he ducks his head down. Placing open mouth kisses along the top of your tits, he brings his right hand up to palm your breast and roll your nipple. His mouth goes lower and latches onto the other nipple through the lace of your bra.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, pulling him closer to you. It’s not enough. You’ll never have enough of him. Soft moans tumble past your lips and Rhett takes this a cue to keep going. Eventually he pulls off and uses a hand to unclasp your bra as it falls to the ground. Getting a full view of your tits, Rhett brings both his hands to them and gives them one last squeeze before kissing your lips once again. Getting frustrated and wanting, no needing, more you drag your hand to his ripped figure. Your fingers trailed down the wide expanse of his chest and trace down his happy trail until you reach the waistband of his jeans. Popping the button and pulling down the zipper, Rhett helps you by tugging his jeans down as fast as he can. He kicks them off, leaving him in his tight boxer briefs. A tent is growing in them and you let out a gulp at the size of him.

“Don't be scared honey, I’ll stretch you real good before I fill you up” his voice fills the air. Excited at the idea, you grab his arm and drag him farther into your apartment and to your bedroom. You pull him in front of you and push him down on the bed causing him to look up at you. Reaching to your shorts, you nearly rip down your legs ready for him to touch you. Before you can pull your panties down, Rhett reaches out to them. He rubs his calloused hands over your hips and yanks you so you have no option but to straddle his figure. “Bunny, with panties like that I don’t think I could stand you not wearing them as I fuck you.”

You whimper at his words alone and he lets out a chuckle. He runs hands up your back and suddenly you are flipped over onto your back, Rhett now looming over you. Scooting down the bed, Rhett's face lands between your legs throwing them over his shoulders. He moans when he sees the wet spot that seems to be growing on your panties, landing wet kisses on your inner thighs. You think how could someone make a sound so beautiful. But you are quickly pulled from this as he tugs your pink panties to the side and takes in the full view of you. His eyes darken and he rasps out “Holy shit baby, you are so goddamn hot. I might come in my fucking boxers,” and he subtly grinds his hips into the mattress in attempt to get some much needed friction. Opening your mouth to make some teasing comment, you instead let out a cry as Rhett licks a bold stripe up your pussy. He lands on your clit, tongue moving in figure eights over top. For the second time that night, you find yourself pulling Rhett by his hair closer to you. He then alternates between lightly fucking his tongue into your dripping hole and brutally attacking your clit. The duality of pleasure causes your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

Rhett places the tip of his finger at your entrance, sliding it up and down through your folds first to get it slicked up. He breaches your entrance and your toes curl as he slides knuckle deep. “Fuck, oh my god Rhett please please, keep going,” pathetic pleas fall from you. You feel him adjust his thick digit in you until he finds that spongy spot that has your back arching. “Right there- right fucking there.” Any other night you would be embarrassed that someone has you so close to coming with one finger, but right now you could care less, only able to focus on the increasing burn in your stomach.

You can practically feel Rhett smirk against you as he eases a second finger into you, again going directly to that sweet spot inside you. He begins to thrust his fingers in and out of you, still using his mouth to suckle your clit. You are screaming in pleasure, babbles of “please” and “don’t stop” leaving your mouth. The coil inside of you is close to snapping. You are so close, so unbelievably blissed out. “I’m gonna cum Rhett. I’m so close” you speak out in warning.

But just as close to the edge as you were, all the pleasure you felt was quickly ripped from you as Rhett removed himself from you. You glare down, sweat dripping down your forehead. “What? Why did you stop?” you croak out, voice already strained from your screaming.

“Oh Bunny. I want the first time you cum to be on my cock.” Rhett responds and leans up to place a hot kiss on your mouth. You deepen the kiss, wanting more of him. You can taste yourself on his mouth and soon he pulls back to say “You like that dirty girl? Like the taste of your sweet pussy? You should, it’s the best pussy I’ve ever got my mouth on.” You feel yourself clench at his dirty talk, managing to turn you on even more. You whimper and try to buck your hips up to encourage him to do something, do anything. Instead he just laughs, “Oh you are so desperate Bunny. Need me to fuck your tight pussy, make you cum so hard you can only yell out my name. Don’t worry Bunny, I’ve got you.” As he speaks he wiggles himself out of his boxers, hard cock slapping his tanned abs.

He props himself onto his forearms and brings a hand to his mouth. Your eyes widen as he spits into his hand and reaches down to pump himself a few times. Noticing your reaction he looks at you. “Open your mouth” and you obey, sticking your tongue out for good measure. You feel something wet hit your mouth before you process that he just spit into it. Rhett Abbott just spit in your mouth. And you swallowed, savoring the taste of him. “Good Bunny” he says into your ear.

“Rhett. Fuck me.” You whine out. Now it’s his turn to moan, finally sheathing his cock into your cunt. You gasp at the stretch and he waits a few moments for you to adjust. After a second you whimper out “Move please.” And Rhett doesn’t need to be asked twice, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back inside you. The force of his thrusts push you up the bed despite Rhett’s bruising grip on your hips.

“You feel so good baby. Squeezing me so tight. Best fucking pussy.” he praises and you clench around him. “Oh baby, you love when I talk dirty. When I tell you how amazing this cunt is. Going to make it mine, never letting anyone else near my pussy again.” You are pathetically whining and thrashing. Your nails are raking down his back, surely leaving welts in their wake. He clashes his lips onto yours and picks up his pace. The brutal fucking makes you feel like you’re floating. He licks into your mouth as you let out a steady set of moans and cries.

Just when you think things can’t get any better, Rhett snakes his hand down to rub tight circles into your clit. Paired with his cock repeatedly hitting the sweet spot inside you, you know the knot in your tummy is starting to unravel.

“Rhett” you whine, “Rhett, I’m so close.”

“Come on baby, make a mess on my dick. Wanna feel you cum” He responds.

Clamping down on him, you are brought even closer to the edge. Eyes tightly shut, you turn your head to the side and let out a moan louder than you thought was possible. No one had ever made you feel this good before. You couldn’t even believe that it was the man you had been crushing on for years that was in your bed, in your pussy. And with that reminder of who it was that was fucking you better than you’ve been fucked before, you saw white behind your eyelids. As you reached your peak, heat spreading all the way through you, you couldn’t help but yell out, “Cum Rhett, let me make you feel good. Wanna be good for you, only for you.”

Unable to resist your fucked out babbles, Rhett ruts into you. Once he knows you’ve finished riding out your orgasm he pulls out from you. Furiously fisitng his cock, he groans out reaching his own release. White ropes of his seed spurt out and land across your tits and you mewl out at the warm, sticky substance coating you. Teasingly, to bring two fingers down to swipe through his release and bring them up to your mouth. You suck on the cum from your fingers, loudly moaning at the salty taste. Both panting hard, Rhett adjusts your panties back, flops over and lays next to you. “Shit y/n. That was amazing. Was it good for you?” And you blink hard through your fuzzy mind searching for a response.

“So good. The best, I think you succeed. Definitely ruined anyone else for me.” Rhett laughs at that. Abruptly, you are filled with a new feeling. It’s warm, cozy. You blush and you realize just how much you have fallen for this cowboy next to you.

You get lost in the idea that this is the start of something real between you two. No longer will you have to pine for him from afar. He likes you, he wants to be with you. You are consumed by him, forever connected you think. No matter what, he’ll always be there. He’s not leaving. And it’s that thought that brings you so much happiness and lets your body relax completely.

A wet towel between the valley of your breasts pulls you from the daydream. Rhett has at some point gotten up and found something to clean you two with. You melt, heart softening at how kind and caring he was being. God, you were so lucky.

The two of you cuddle up and spend the next hour talking about random things. Your favorite movies, what your go to karaoke song is, what you plan to do in the future. And it is easy, it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever done. And when your eyelids become heavy, you find yourself slipping into a peaceful sleep listening to the beat of Rhett’s heart.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott smut #outer range #outer range fanfiction #outer range fic #outer range smut #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott fanfic #lewis pullman #rhett abbott x reader smut #i want to be rhett's buckle bunny

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the-banana-0verlord · 9 months

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ahahahahaha I liked mc's request at a girls' sleepover jiji I would like to ask for something similar, for vile schoenheit, when mc fem deliberately excludes him from the sleepover, telling him that he can't go because, at the sleepover they will do girly things "like putting on makeup , wear masks and gossip" duh~ ....but the truth mc only said it as a trap/joke to see if he would come anyway or not xd idk a casual joke to the queen ✩ε(´｡•᎑•`)っ 💕 thanks!

How Vil would react to getting denied to a sleepover

Notes: Fem Reader. Vil is a spiteful little mf

👑👑👑

👑Offended? Him? Of course not, hahaha, why would he, Vil Schoenheit, be offended?

👑He is 100% offended. He is absolutely outraged. So, he does the next logical thing: he goes with Rook to the spa to rant about it.

👑If you're going to have a sleepover without him, then he's going to the spa without you. Take THAT!!

👑And why would you even think he wouldn't like it if it was girly???? He's Vil Schoenheit, for crying out loud, he would wear the most sparckly dress ever if it was fashionable!

👑As you repeatedely try to call him to tell him the joke, he's busy getting his nails painted bright pink while a beauty mask and cuncumbers rests on his face.

👑After a good mud bath, his nerves are finally calmed down, so he comes home to his dorm.

👑There, he sees all of the missed calls you left. Still, he doesn't call you back and lets you wait a bit more before calling you back. What did you expect? He's extremely spiteful.

👑And since he doesn't answer to his phone anymore, you decide to call Rook instead, because it's almost certain they're together.

👑Who to choose? You or Roi du Poison? Hard choice indeed, Rook.

👑In the end, he chose both as he helped you organize another sleepover, inviting Vil this time.

👑When he finally arrives, you get the chance to explain everything to him. He forgives you... But now he's throwing a boy's sleepover, and you're certainly not invited.

👑👑👑

Hope you enjoyed!

Have a good day/night!

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #Vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #twst vil #twisted wonderland vil #twst vil x reader

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akiranzee · 10 months

Text

⛓️ • ° ` — “THE MAN INSIDE THE BEAST”

-> PAIRINGS: Bakugo Katsuki x f!Y/n -> SUMMARY: Bakugo Katsuki, labeled to as ‘the beast’ in U.A High. He acts like one, but behind that act, is it even a beast anymore? -> WORD COUNT: 1.2k+ -> CONTAINS: comfort, swearing, bakugo angst, mean class 1-A, mean U.A, mean parents, & bakugo and reader are both 16. -> A/N: also, bakugo’s dad has an affair, and has a daughter in here, so ye bakugo has a stepsister lmao.

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------------Complete!------------

“Hey… isn’t that Bakugo Katsuki?” “Damn, he looks pissed again. What he gonna do, blow up the whole school?” “Maybe, he’s a beast after all.” “Yeah bro, they should lock him up.”

Whispers from there and here. Everywhere. You wanted to walk faster, but Bakugo just walks slowly, as if slowly listening to those whispers.

“H-Hey, Katsuki, have you heard about the new restaurant? I heard they sell the best spicy mapo tofu there. Let's go!” You pulled him, but he didn’t budge nor answered you. He just… continued listening to those criticism about him.

“Dang it, we lost a great hero because of him. If All Might didn’t have saved him that night, then maybe he would never have retired.” A student whispered loudly.

Hearing that, Bakugo’s head whipped to the student, and attacked them. You tried to stop him, but he just won’t budge. He was attacking them nonstop. Just like a beast.

Shortly, Aizawa-sensei and other teachers arrived, but the student was now unconscious and brought to the infirmary.

“Bakugo Katsuki. To the office, now.” Aizawa-sensei sent him a death glare, and Bakugo followed him to the office.

You wish you had something more to do, but you were just a student from the general course. You were not a hero or anything, hell, you even have a weak quirk and body.

It was atleast 2 hours, then Bakugo came out from the office, and you bombarded him with tons of questions.

“Shut up. He just ranted and lectured me like an old geezer would.” That would’ve been funny if he said it with more humor, but his tone and the look of his face says more to it.

You feel ashamed and pity for your best friend, but you can’t do anything, can you? You can’t change the way people see him, people thinks of him, and people talks of him.

~~~~~

It was just 1 year ago when you were stuck in the middle of the rain, in an abandoned building, when luckily, a guy with sandy blond spiky hair went towards you.

He was soaking wet, just like you. So he stayed there inside the abandoned building, waiting for the rain to stop, just like you did.

It was a few torturing silent minutes, but then you decided to speak up.

“Um… the rain ain’t gonna go away this time, huh?” You tried to joke and cheer up the mood, which only made the atmosphere weird by the way.

“Hell yeah it isn’t, should’ve listened to the news.” He replied back, and you were shocked with the way he tried to humor you.

You thought he was gonna be some serious boring guy, but he was actually quite the opposite.

And that meeting under the rain gave you a new friend. Friend that you have feelings of.

~~~~~

Some people ask you stuff, like ‘how does it feel to be friends with Bakugo?’, ‘how do you tame Bakugo?’, ‘what’s your secret of doing it?’ and more.

And honestly, it annoyed you. You just want to slap them in the face and dip their heads on mud, so that they would shut up.

They’d ask you those kinds of stuff about the both of your friendship like it’s impossible to befriend him. It’s not impossible, just hard. If only they don’t see him in that kind of perspective, then maybe, they’d become friends too.

Despite his loud, mean, and brash personality, he is still mysterious. He hides many things, that only you know.

He’d tell and vent on you about how his parents would yell at him on the single smallest mistake he’d make, Aizawa-sensei telling him his project looks like shit, and his old group of friends kicking him out of the group for being mean.

I mean, it isn’t his fault he acts like that. It’s because of his quirk that he gets mad easily. But people just tend to see the bad side and mistakes don’t they?

You sighed, wishing there was something more you could do to help him. Sure, he wasn’t asking you much, but you knew he wanted to tell you more, but he doesn’t because he finds venting out his feelings ‘pathetic’.

It was the ugly truth of the world anyway. People judge you to how you look or act or either follow what they hear, instead of actually knowing who you truly are.

They don’t even try to understand you, they just believe on what other people say, on other people’s perspective, and it eventually spreads like virus.

But luckily for Katsuki, he has you. He has someone that would listen to him, that would stay by his side, that would always be there for him.

~~~~~

You heard a knock on your door, and opened it only to find Katsuki soaked in the rain.

“Hi.” Was all he said, and you motioned for him to go inside.

“Hey… what happened?” You asked, handing him a spare towel.

“Old hag kicked me out.” “Why?” “…”

You understood that in times like this, Katsuki is still not ready to open up, so you let him use your bathroom first.

You’d let the minutes pass by and talked with each other, until eventually, he’d open up to you about his problems.

“Fucking old hag kicked me out for thinking I used her credit card to buy stuffed toys. But guess what, it’s just old man buying it for his other daughter.” He said, now slowly opening up to you.

“While me, on the other hand, never received such gifts when I was her age. Pfft, favoritism speaks for itself once again.” He tried to laugh it off, but the hurt look on his eyes makes you see through the tough exterior of him, now seeing the hurt interior.

Everytime he got problems, he’d just keep it all to himself. He may not admit it, but it was starting to eat him out slowly.

Even with All Might’s retirement, he still blames himself for it even until now.

And you’re worried sick, that maybe all his problems will slowly eat him up more and drive him crazy.

“Y/n… What should I do…?” He cries, calling out for you, and you scoot closer, slowly hugging him.

You wished everyone who calls him a beast sees this, because, does he even look like a beast right now?

Behind all that tough and rough exterior, is just a broken man inside who just wants to be loved and accepted.

Bakugo was just emotionally unstable, not mentally.

It isn’t his fault he gets angry all the time. It’s because of his quirk. Bakugo’s anger and constant adrenaline is his body’s way of dealing with his quirk and keeping him alive. Nitroglycerin can lower a person’s heart rate dramatically, so if he’s not constantly stressed, he would maybe pass out.

Another reason was that because of Bakugo’s sense of self-worth. His superiority built up to others due to being praised so much as a kid. As a result, anything that could challenge his superiority just pisses him off.

Therefore, it isn’t really his fault now, is it?

As they say, life is a constant change. But sometimes, there are people who couldn’t accept that change.

And Bakugo was one of them.

Bakugo Katsuki was no beast at all, he was just broken.

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