#turns out those questions were ridiculously easy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

predestinatos · 6 months

Text

too cold | MV1 ⋆꙳❅ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

pairing: max verstappen x female!reader

summary: stormy weather leads to stormy thoughts about a years long friendship.

tags: best friends to lovers, soo cheesy, fluff, giddy max, super whipped for reader!!, wearing his sweater, just so much softness!

author's note: i dreamt about max for some reason and he's been living in my head rent free so... i had to let this out!! hope you like it. it's a short cute thing so..!

word count: 3.5k

warnings: -

It was cold and stormy that day. You had expected it, the forecasts all telling you the same thing, your hair completely tangled in itself as soon as you stepped out of the house into the car.

You planned it all, including getting there earlier, so you could spend as much time with Max as possible – you never skipped the pleasant silence of his presence at least once a week. What you hadn’t planned was for you two to get carried away with taking buzzfeed quizzes and personality tests to the point where it was dark outside, the storm more aggressive, more threatening, and more dangerous.

“Shit,” you muttered when the wind outside made the windows tremble with extreme force, their sound almost like a warning voice in the night. “How am I going home like this?” you asked yourself out loud, desperate and scared, as Max completed yet another ‘What’s Your Mental Age Based on Your Choice of Cutlery’ quiz. He glanced outside nonchalantly, almost carelessly, as if the question was ridiculously easy to answer, close to ironic.

Before going back to the seriousness of the questions at hand, he shrugged, shoulders going up and down in explicit tranquility. “You can stay over” he stated, his finger hovering over a weirdly shaped spoon that said ‘shit stirrer’ on its surface. You let out a breath that indicated his joke was funny yet not useful in the slightest given your current dilemma, to which he looked at you and laughed back, assuming you were amused at the choice of teaspoon he had just made. “Max, I’m serious” you voiced your urgency and fear with those words. “Me too” he continued, eyes glued on the screen, yet slightly confused at your own comment.

At your audible sigh and attempt to get up from his bed, where you comfortably laid scrolling through your phone for options, he turned around from his chair which was facing the screen. “You’re not leaving” he said, in a concerned tone of a friend who refused to let you be consumed by the rapidly increasing rain. “I don’t understand what the matter is” he continued as he saw you searching through his room for your things, messily scattered on the floor, reminiscent of childhood times spent together.

You merely looked at him in response, the answer obvious to you but seemingly not to him, only hitting him hard in the face as a joke he couldn’t help but laugh at seconds later. “You always slept here” he said, astonished at your reluctance and apparent timidness. “Yeah, Max. When we were 11” you protested, tucking some hair behind your ear as you looked for your charger. “Plus, I don’t have a pajama, or spare underwear” your arms now crossed across your chest, mimicking his own, a baffled smile on his lips.

“You can wear one of my sweaters. And like, my boxers, or something” this made your mouth drop in ridiculous surprise, a fear in your eyes which he didn’t understand. “I’m serious! It’s better than you going out with this storm!” his arm pointed towards the window, the view outside a paid actor because a lightning appeared violently before both of you. With a winning grin, he finished his argument with a “C’mon I’ll let you choose the outfit.”

Opening the drawers, you let yourself take a look at the collection of multicolored sweaters organized neatly. Your eyes landed on a grey one, which looked a bit worn out but comfortable at the same time, its marks of usage being a testament to its quality. You grabbed it and noticed that it smelled like Max, like the years of friendship you two shared. “The boxers are in the other drawer” Max interrupted your thoughts, yet his indifferent air made you less awkward about this situation, almost like it was normal that this was happening, like you were both 10 again, popcorn being prepared in the small kitchen next door.

You let yourself randomly choose some of his underwear, trying your best not to look too much at it, knowing little to nothing about how to even begin choosing such a thing for yourself. The strong wind whistled outside, and Max’s fingers hit the keyboard, creating a soothing lullaby.

“I’m- uh-… going then” you said, making your way towards the bathroom as he happily nodded, the familiarity of the house being a known fact for both of you.

The truth was, Max missed you. A lot. He missed hanging out with you all night, watching really bad films and playing silly videogames, drinking some beers and enjoying yourselves. Lately, he hadn’t had the time to do all these things, let alone doing them with you, and even though he did not plan this storm in the slightest, he was glad for it. The rain came as a reminder that you two had a year long friendship you could still enjoy, the sound blending with the one coming from the bathroom as you turned on the shower.

Sleeping over only got weird given the fact that Max was a boy and you were a girl, but it shouldn’t have been like that. In his mind, nothing changed, and nothing should have to change – he still wanted you as close as he did when you two watched scary video compilations on youtube and spent all night hiding under the covers and whispering in an attempt to not ‘awake the big monster’.

He still wanted to spend time with you when you were 16 and started talking about how cute his friends were, asking him if they were single or not as you put a lollipop in your mouth and painted your nails in colorful amusement.

He still wanted you to sleep over even when his girlfriends told him they didn’t quite like the fact that he was so close with you, that he seemed to want to be with you more than with them, that he dropped everything as soon as you texted him a slightly unusual text.

And it was normal, and alright, because you were best friends, because you knew each other better than your own selves, because you’d recognize his laugh in the middle of a crowd even with noise cancelling headphones, and he would recognize the smile you made when you were flustered even if he was blindfolded.

It was also normal for him to smile to himself and feel the happiest he has felt in a while, because he missed you, and you were staying over and nothing would have felt better than knowing he had a night full of your presence.

Meanwhile, you stood in his all-too familiar shower, accepting the fact that he had no conditioner, and a shampoo would have to do for the night. Simultaneously, this made you reflect on the clear fact that he had probably had no stable, consistent, female presence in his life in a while. As the liquid dropped in your hand and you brought your hands to your hair, thoughts about previous relationships of his flooded your mind.

They never ended well, and the guilt you felt because of it was ever present. Max was the best friend you could’ve asked for, because he always picked you, no matter what. In fact, he gave it no thought nor justification, not to you or his previous relationships. He accepted the fact that you were his priority as a given, something so natural as breathing, as blood pumping through his veins. You couldn’t deny you did the same. Previous partners of yours weren’t too fond of his constant need to assess and approve of them, of how he was your emergency contact whenever anything happened, how you made sure you spent time with him at least once a week.

Feeling the foam forming on your scalp, you remembered the times where you two bathed together, the innocence of gone times flying through your head with fondness. Of course, you two grew, and while you never broke the bond that formed between you, it was also harder to continue certain traditions you maintained.

Your teenage years were filled with angst and some bickering over how uncomfortable he made your dates, or how all he did was talk about girls when you two were together. You used each other as diaries and confidantes, keeping secrets in a closed vault made of memories. Nothing really had changed besides your ages, and none of you were dating, or at least it did not seem like it.

As you washed your body with lavender scented soap, you realized this is what you were missing – the comfortability of being the most like yourself you could possibly be, alongside him.

Max stared at the “You Are 14 Years Old!” result on his computer, reading the in depth description on how that one fork gave his age away, when he heard your shout for his name coming from the now foggy bathroom, the place now looking more like Silent Hill or a liminal space. Removing one side of his headphones off, his voice echoed throughout the apartment “Yes?”, filled with softness and worry, a completely unknown care for you which wasn’t displayed by anyone else but him. Smiling to yourself, you replied, “do you seriously only own one bath towel?”

Removing both of his headphones off now, with realization hitting him and he jumped from his seat, he ran towards the drawer that possessed all the other towels he stored in organized fashion. “Shit! No! Sorry! I’m on my way!” he said urgently, grabbing one as he ran towards the bathroom, opening its door and popping only one arm in, his eyes facing the wall but also closed with affirming need to reassure you that he wasn’t looking, refused to look, would never even consider to do such a thing.

You pulled the fabric off his hand as you thanked him with a soft giggle, his previous nonchalant attitude vanishing upon the thought of seeing you naked – which you weren’t, and he would’ve realized this had he considered the fact that the bathroom possessed ONE towel, currently wrapped around your now wet body. Shivering with cold, you got yourself dry as fast as you could, while Max sat back down in his chair, cursing to himself at his clumsiness and lack of thought.

Examining yourself in the mirror as dried your hair off (after several minutes of looking for the hairdryer, not wanting to put Max through the whole ordeal of performing the biggest demonstration of respect towards one’s privacy ever witnessed) you noticed something you hadn’t before. This simple, yet incriminating item put into question your previous thoughts about Max’s lack of companionship in his home, your eyebrows furrowed and your mouth turning downwards at the thought that he was hiding something from you.

On the tiny little cup sitting on the sink, there were two toothbrushes. They were carefully put together in a magical arrangement of colors that indicated that one had to be able to tell them apart, like each had its own owner. Suddenly, the whole idea of sleeping over – hell, of wearing Max’s clothes – seemed ridiculously selfish. You had done it before, but you were adults now, and with adulthood came a sense of responsibility and respect that hit you in the face like a slap, the simple idea of an innocent sleepover with your best friend sounding absolutely childish and ridiculous.

“Max?” you called out again, a deep breath escaping your lungs as you sat down on the toilet seat, hair still slightly damp, towel still wrapped around your body upon your refusal to put his clothes on. “Yes?” he replied once again, a feeling of déjà vu invading your thoughts, a repetition of mere seconds before yet with rose tinted glasses off.

“I think it’s best if I just go home,” you muttered, even though you hadn’t moved. Realistically, the idea of going out there terrified you, but perhaps not as much as staying over, given the current situation. Putting your underwear back on after showering felt dirty, but perhaps wearing his clean one after noticing another one’s presence in his room, his life, his thoughts, made you feel even dirtier.

“Come on, I bet your outfit looks amazing” he said jokingly, assuming you were embarrassed about your current look, trying to lighten up the mood with teasing reassurance. Getting up once again, he stood near the bathroom door, head close to it as if trying to listen to the fabric against your skin, some hint of your own amused presence. All he heard was silence, one so unbelievably loud he felt something off, something wrong. “Can I come in?” he asked, his voice now more careful, more tender, and more concerned.

You only murmured in allowance, and noticed the doorknob turn as he stepped inside. “What’s up?” he asked, his eyes revealing deep concern with slight embarrassment over the painting you two were probably creating. Him, pajama pants and hoodie on, glasses now slightly foggy; you, with droplets falling down your hair as you looked down, hugging the towel tightly against your body. “I don’t want to cause any trouble” you said as you unconsciously looked back at the toothbrushes which now seemed to stare at you both accusingly, judgingly.

“Why would you- Oh,” he interrupted himself, his gaze following yours towards the same spot, his look going from confused to serious to utterly humored. “This?” he asked again, grabbing the small toothbrush from the cup, its cable a pretty yellow shade. “What’s your favorite color again?” he continued, waving the object in front of your face as you stared at it in confusion.

Looking up, you replied simply “yellow- oh,” it was your turn to interrupt yourself, now realizing how you had almost forgotten your childhood promise, yet surprised as well at the fact that he had kept it after all these years, the innocence of the act causing your heart to hurt slightly.

“It’s always been here. I mean, not the same one, obviously, but… a spare toothbrush” he explained, even though he did not have to, his hand playfully messing your hair before he headed bac towards the door. “Get dressed, silly. We have films to watch” his warm voice instructed you with tenderness before he closed the door behind him.

Stepping out of the bathroom, finally dry and dressed, you forced Max to close his eyes before looking at you. “Don’t make fun of me or I’ll leave” you threatened jokingly, as his eyes remained tightly shut with his hands in front of them dramatically. “I won’t I promise!” he claimed, yet he was already laughing, the sound of it reminding you of the years of togetherness you both shared.

“Okay, you can look” you finally gave your permission, as he took his hands off his face and blinked fast, the lights suddenly blinding him. At first, he just stared at you, expression absolutely unreadable. Then, he burst into laughter, apologizing as his giggles filled the bedroom. “I look ridiculous” you complained, the long sleeves covering your hands and flopping lazily as you did so. “No you look adorable!” he tried to protest, laughter insistent on making its way through his lips, his eyes shining with happy tears. “Adorably ridiculous” you continued, rolling your eyes and throwing yourself on the bed defeatedly, your head buried in his pillow, filled with the scent of him.

Knowing your mood would change soon, Max merely smiled to himself as he started putting a film on, the choice being the Twilight saga – easy to watch, entertaining, fun, and he could tease you about it constantly, pretending he didn’t enjoy it himself. Bags of jellybeans hit your head as he threw them towards you, in an attempt to wake you from your moody attitude. “C’mon grumpy I have beer” he poked you as he sat on the bed as well, pressing play and opening a bag which he waved in front of your face as you got up lazily.

“’I know what you are’ ‘Say it. Out loud. Say it!’ ‘Vampire’” you said the lines along with the film, echoing each and every intonation and expression. Popping a bear shaped jellybean in his mouth as he took another sip of his beer, Max interrupted your acting session by saying “can you imagine how awkward it would be if it was something else entirely and he would just be like… ‘uh no’” and laughing to himself. Your arm flew to his as you punched it angrily, despite the fact that you were giggling to yourself.

Something about getting you slightly on your nerves while also making you smile made Max feel almost at home, in a safe space without comparison, only available to him when you were around. He felt himself in a constant state of meditation whenever he was around you, his breathing naturally adjusting itself to match yours.

Instinctively, and not out of the ordinary for any of you, he grabbed your hand and played with it softly, his fingers feeling the soft texture of your skin and pinching it with playful tenderness. You never questioned it, and neither did he, this need you two had to display affection more than most friends did, the need to always be in some sort of contact with each other, to feel each other’s warmth and presence closely. Without taking his eyes off of the film, seemingly very intensely focused on Edward’s skin of a killer, he spoke up. “You don’t look ridiculous,” he said, as you held your gaze on the film, yet laughing at his comment, expecting a joke to be made about how what’s on the screen is way more embarrassing than you in his underwear. Yet he said something completely different. “You always look pretty. Very pretty” his voice was soft as he now looked at you, and you felt his gaze on your skin, your cheeks, your eyelashes, yet refused to look at him and face whatever was happening in that night.

The windows rattled once again, breaking the momentary spell that hovered in the room, hypnotizing both of you with the haze of uncertain feelings. You heard his breathing as well, heavy and nervous now, his heart racing and yours matching his, maybe because you were so deeply connected or maybe because your feelings and his were now the same shade of complexity.

You wondered if this is why you had stopped sleep overs together. Perhaps it was the fear of facing the fact that things were not as simple and easy to brush off when the clock hit 3am and his hand was on his and your head on his shoulder and you had no intention of moving. And he shared these same thoughts, realizing how that letting go of you right now would probably be the worst thing that could happen, the scariest thought that could possibly cross his mind.

All this happened in fractions of second, too short for any of you to truly acknowledge what was happening, his voice interrupting both of your thoughts as he spoke once again, “obviously not as pretty as Edward Cullen but-“ to which you rolled your eyes and laughed. “I bet he’d look better in your sweatshirt” you said, another sip of beer falling on your lips.

“Impossible” he replied, a smile on his lips, his eyes finally meeting yours and then taking your whole appearance in, your cheeks blushing shyly at how attentively he looked at you, at how his gaze seemed so tender and soft. A sudden urgency to feel his lips on yours filled your thoughts with sheer intensity that terrified you. You hadn’t seen Max that way, hadn’t considered it nor question it before, not even when your dates and boyfriends accused you of things, not when your friends commented on how you looked at him. Yet in that exact moment, something shifted completely, perhaps stirred by the storm outside, perhaps because it simply felt right in that moment to feel wrong.

“Can I kiss you?” he suddenly asked. The innocence of the question made you giggle, the contrast between his soft and careful voice and his adult look with a week old stubble making you giddy and timid as you nodded.

His lips touched yours with caution, yet with undeniable fondness that made you question why this hadn’t happened before. You felt his smile in between the kiss, the satisfaction of finally breaking this unknown wall that had existed between you for so long, and which you remained so unaware about.

Pulling away, Max’s eyes stared into yours before moving to the screen, a satisfied smile on his now slightly redder than usual lips, your own face mimicking his. “Edward Cullen could never kiss as well as you” he whispered, earning himself another soft punch, followed by 3 more films worth of kissing.

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fanfic #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 fluff #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 #formula one #f1blr

2K notes · View notes

harrysfolklore · 5 months

Text

Tom Blyth and YN Take a Couples Quiz | GQ - actress!yn

gif by @obriy <333

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

read my actress!yn x tom insta blurb here <3

"Hi I'm YN"

"And I'm Tom"

"And today we're doing..." you looked at Tom so you could say the following part of your introduction together, "The GQ Couple Quiz!"

"Are you nervous?" you said as you looked at him, noticing his hands fidgeting on his lap.

"I'm alright, I'm pretty confident I'm a great boyfriend and I'll know all the answers." he gave the camera his million dollar smile and you couldn't help but show a smile of your own.

"Okay, first question," you looked at the card in your hands, "What is the name of my first movie?

"That one's pretty easy," he shrugged before continuing, "Spider-man Homecoming."

"That's correct," you flipped the card to read the next question, "What city did I grow up in?

Tom stayed quiet for few seconds, looking nervously at the camera and making you laugh.

"Already? Really?" you looked at him in disbelief, "I thought you were a great boyfriend!"

"I am! This is a tricky one!" Tom moved his hands around and you covered your mouth with the card to hide your laugh "Okay, you were born in California, but you actually grew up in Phoenix."

"Correct! See! You knew it," you grabbed the card with the next question, "What would my job be if I weren't an actress?"

"Detective," Tom quickly said, "100% detective."

"Oh! That was fast," Tom shrugged before you continued, "Okay bonus, what kind of detective?" you looked at him with a raise eyebrow.

"Homicide," he replied quickly again, "All of those true crime podcasts prove it."

"Well yeah, that's true," you smiled as you read out the following question, "Where was our first date?"

"It was at your house," Tom smiled as he remembered the moment, "And it was playing Clue, and I had to pretend to enjoy that game for you, and it was totally worth it."

"How sweet of you," you smiled at him before continuing, "Oh boy, you have to be specific for this one," Tom raised his eyebrows and waited for you to give him the question, "What is my night routine?"

"So, she puts on this little pink robe," he explained directly to the camera, "And then she puts her hair on one of these stretchy bandanna things so her hair is out of her face," you smiled at him, indicating that he was answering correctly, "Then she washes her face with this like foamy cleanse thing, then she puts on all her creams, and then when she's walking to the bed she turns on the heat, which is probably the only thing that we fight about," you both let out a laugh as he continued, "And then she gets in, she goes by her cupboard and she puts on these really fluffy and ridiculously warm socks and also my really baggy tracksuit bottoms but she rolls 'em and she puts one of my t-shirts 'cause she likes the smell of my aftershave," he smirked and you blushed for a second, "Then she gets in bed and she asks me to put one of these big fluffy, white blankets in the dryer so It's warm, then I tuck her in and put the other blanket on her and that's it."

"Okay wow, you killed that one," you smiled at him, "You did really well."

The next questions were pretty easy for Tom's liking, getting right your astrological sing, celebrity crush, favorite ice cream flavor and the year you won your first Emmy. He ended up getting 23 points.

Now, it was your turn to answer questions about him.

"You feel ready, love?" he said giving you a smirk and you only nodded motioning him to read the first question, "Okay good luck, how old was I when I got my first role?"

"You were fifteen and already getting cast by Ridley Scott ." you answered confidently and sent a wink his way.

"Neat. What was the name of the high school I graduated from?"

"Was it North Hilld?" at this, Tom raised his eyebrows and shook his head, "Shit! It was Hills something, right?"

"You really don't know the name, love? This is making you look bad!" you covered your face in embarrassment, even tho you knew he was joking, "The correct answer is Arnold Hills."

"Ohhh that's right, give me the next one I'll do better."

"Okay, okay," he looked down at the card with the next question, "Who's my celebrity crush?"

"Also easy, Jennifer Aniston," you smiled looking at the camera, “You had a poster of her hidden in your closet and all.”

"Nope, you're wrong," you raised your eyebrow at him, pretty sure you were right about your answer, "You're my celebrity crush, love."

"Tom! That was so bad!" you both laughed and he winked to the camera, "This is a serious game."

"Okay, okay, you got that one right," you rolled your eyes with affection as he read your next question, "The next questions are going to be a single sentence answer so I need you to do it as fast as you can, okay?"

"I'm ready, let's do it"

"My go-to Karaoke song?

"Senorita by Justin Timberlake."

"What is my coffee order?"

"Oat milk latte."

"What is my biggest pet peeve?"

"Loud chewers."

"What's my hidden talent?"

"Whistling, like, melodically whistling if that makes sense."

"Okayy, those are all correct," he put the cards on the small coffee table between you, "We make a pretty good team, don´t you think?"

"We do, but I'm pretty sure I won." you shrugged and Tom laughed as you both turned to the camera to say your goodbyes.

"Thank you so much for watching. I personally think I won but we'll see."

"Thank you GQ!" you waved you hand and the camera stopped rolling shortly after.

The video ended up being one of the most watched on GQ's YouTube channel.

2K notes · View notes

bleedingoptimism · 4 months

Text

As Steve walks into the grocery store he pulls his sunglasses off, only to put them back on again immediately. The lights of the store make the back of his eyes sting. Hungover from a bad headache, not that people here would care why. Whatever, is not like everyone already doesn’t think he’s an asshole. He doesn’t need to perform for anyone anymore.

A guy, singing to himself down one of the aisles peaks his attention, he’s tall and has long black hair and Steve belatedly remembers that he’s Jon’s friend from California.

“Argyle?” he asks, more to himself than to him, but Argyle turns and smiles at him as if they are old friends. He approaches and grabs his shoulder, shaking him a little.

“Oh! Hi Stevie!”

The confidence and attitude he carries himself with make Steve smile for some reason. It’s like he’s very sure of himself but in a nice way, not in a douchey way, like his high school buddies were. Although hearing someone call him “Stevie” reminds him of Tommy and a very different time and he can’t help but shrink inwards a little, “Oh no please, just Steve,” he says with an apologetic smile, pulling his sunglasses off again and placing them on his head. And because he doesn’t want Argyle to think he’s the douchebag, he explains further, “‘Stevie’ brings back bad memories,”

Argyle leans his head to the side with a pout but then smiles and squeezes Steve’s shoulder, “Dude, it’s fine, we can just make new ones, man! Better ones.”

Steve’s first reaction is to scoff. As if it were that easy… but then he thinks, hell, maybe it is. Maybe it is and it makes him smile. Argyle is way too outgoing for it to be comfortable for other people, it’s kind of ridiculous. For a second, he wonders if Jonathan found it jarring when he first met him. But Steve finds it refreshing. He shakes his head and smiles,

“So what were you looking for? Maybe I can help?” he offers.

Argyle turns in a circle, letting go of Steve’s shoulder and opening his arms wide, like he’s presenting the store to Steve, “See man, I'm mentally preparing myself for the munchies. I kind of wanted to make a pizza but like sweet? You get me?”

“Like a pie?” Steve chuckles.

“That! Sounds delicious, dude! But I don’t know how to make a pie,” Argyle laments, and Steve has no idea what possesses him to say,

“I do. You want help?”

Argyle stills his whole body and then shakes it before he starts snapping his fingers rapidly, startling Steve.

“Ok! Ok ok ok ok ok! Are you busy right now, man?”

“Just need to buy my groceries…” Steve says unable to keep the bewilderment off his expression.

“I’ll help you with that, we’ll buy things for the pie and then you invite me over, how’s that my dude?” Argyle says, no preambles, “I have a doobie and a lot of questions about all the shit that went down” he adds moving his eyebrows up and down quickly.

“What about Jon?” Steve can’t help but ask.

“Ah man, Jonny is with Nancy right now. Those two love birds had a lot to talk about, so I figured I’d make myself scarce.” Argyle answers, nodding apprehensively at his own statement.

Steve finds himself nodding along before saying, “Yeah, okay. Let’s do it!”

“Hell yeah, Stevie!” Argyle exclaims throwing his arms up and this time, Steve doesn’t cringe at the nickname.

After that, Argyle follows Steve through the store, helping him put things in the cart, making a few comments about differences in products or prices from California, but mostly staying out of the way and humming to himself. Steve asks him what he wants the pie to be (strawberries and chocolate) so he gets the ingredients for that too and then they are off.

When they get to his place, Steve tells him to get comfortable while he puts stuff away but Argyle helps him out before sitting on a tall stool in the kitchen and watching as Steve gets all the ingredients for the pie laid out.

“You know dude, you’re kind of exactly how I imagined you’d be,” Argyle tells him, gifting him another one of his smiles.

“Really?” Steve asks surprised.

“Jon told me all about you, man,” he answers nodding.

Steve raises an eyebrow at that, “And you still want to hang out with me?” he asks, half judgy, half defensive.

“Of course! Because you know what I got from it, dog?” Argyle asks and Steve just stares at him, afraid to know the answer.

“That you are a good person, Stevie! So you got off to a rocky start dude, so what? I think that makes you all the more interesting.”

Steve purses his lips in an attempt not to smile and raises an eyebrow.

“You went to hell and beyond for someone you didn’t even like! You’ve paid your dues and a half for whatever shit you did when you were younger and it could’ve made you bitter or closed off, man! But it didn’t. Not even the tiniest little bit. You barely know me and you invited me over and offered to bake pie for me, dude!”

Steve chuckles and shakes his head, “You got all that from what Jon told you? Also you invited yourself over,” he jokes.

Argyle laughs and then just shrugs, choosing to ignore Steve’s question about Jon.

He lets it go, and Argyle lights up the joint while he starts making the pie. After they both get a few hits, Argyle starts asking him about everything. ‘Start from the beginning’ he says.

Steve starts off a little stiff but gets looser with the weed and Argyle's presence and ends up telling him practically everything. Argyle asks a few questions every once in a while, sometimes about the process of making the pie. Sometimes some really intense shit like ‘and how did that make you feel?’, ‘did you think you were going to die?’ ‘were you scared?’.

Steve answers everything honestly, and it feels incredibly cathartic. His favorite questions are the ones about the pie though, and he smiles the biggest when Argyle says next time he’ll make one for him.

In turn, Steve asks him how he met Jon and chuckles when Argyle confirms his thoughts and tells him Jon didn’t like Argyle one bit at first.

“He said I was too happy. He didn’t trust it. Dude couldn’t trust anyone that hadn’t gone through some kind of shit in their lives” Argyle laughs, “But I can thaw even the coldest of hearts, man! As we got to know each other, he realized that I did have my own shit going on, but that happiness was a choice for me. Is who I had chosen to be.”

They talk about that too, how it wasn’t an easy choice. How some days it’s harder than others, to keep at it. How all the Upside Down shit affected him too.

By the time the pie is done and the joint is gone, Steve feels incredibly close to Argyle. Like they’ve been friends forever.

“So that’s pretty much it,” he says with a sigh after finishing a rant about why he doesn’t keep in touch with his high school buddies because Argyle had asked about them.

“Dude, you’ve been through so much,” he says solemnly.

“Yeah, you know that’s…. Life…” Steve says, shrugging. He doesn't know exactly what to say, suddenly feeling very awkward at being seen.

“Nah, Stevie. Me being kicked out of my house as soon as I was old enough to get a job ‘cause my parents couldn’t afford to keep feeding me and my younger siblings…. That’s life.” Argyle says seriously and quickly dismisses Steve's worried face adding, “It’s ok dude, they were great parents, they raised me well and I still go visit every other weekend” And then sighs and looks sternly at Steve again,

“Like I said, that’s life. What you’ve been through? Was hell”

“The kids had it worse- Ell-” Steve starts but Argyle interrupts him.

“That doesn’t erase what you've been through, Steve. It doesn’t make it less of a nightmare, man.” Steve just looks at Argyle as what he’s saying sinks in.

“And you got through it, dude. You came out the other side even a better person than when it started and like- you saved lives! You saved my best friend's life and like- like- you should be proud of yourself Stevie. I’m proud of you, man” he finishes with a carefree smile. As if he hadn’t just rocked the ground Steve was standing on. And he doesn't know if it’s the weed, or Argyle’s words, or both but Steve closes the distance between them and hugs him.

“Oh, hey! Hugs! I love hugs!” Argyle laughs, and hugs him back, taking it all in stride.

“Sorry,” Steve sniffles embarrassed, “I didn’t know I needed to hear that till you said it,” he croaks.

“Nah, it’s good. I got you” Argyle responds, patting his back lightly.

The hug is wonderful, friendly, warm, and just the right length but when he’s stepping away from Argyle, he hears a wary sound from the kitchen door.

“Uhm…hi”

It’s Eddie. Pocker-faced and cautious and Steve knows him well enough to know he’s freaking out inside.

“Oh, hi! Eddie! Good to see you, dude!” Argyle says good naturally and completely out of the loop. Steve smiles at him too and rubs his eyes with the back of his hand to dry them off a bit.

Whatever Eddie was thinking goes out the window when he looks closely at Steve and walks towards him, leaning closer to look him in the eye, “You okay?” he asks concerned.

Steve nods and Argyle clears his throat, “I’m going to… set the table for three,” he says, so maybe, not as out of the loop as Steve first thought.

Eddie completely ignores Argyle and grabs Steve’s face, his thumb caressing the underside of his eye, “You really ok?” he asks again and Steve chuckles,

“Yeah,” he answers with a smile.

Eddie hums and then looks back towards where Argyle is opening and closing cabinets in the dining room, looking for plates, “So… Should I be jealous?” he asks and Steve snorts amused,

“Of course not,” he says.

“You sure? ‘Cause maybe your type wasn’t curls and big eyes, maybe it was long hair and weed all along,” Eddie presses and Steve can tell he’s trying to make a joke out of it but is actually asking for real and Steve gets frankly, really annoyed.

“You know what? Maybe you should be jealous. Argy would never accuse me like that,” Inwardly he cringes at the nickname but it gets the point across. Eddie’s face falls and he looks devastated and terrified for a second before Steve smirks bitchily at him and then Eddie is frowning.

“Asshole” he murmurs, despite still holding Steve’s face as if it were precious and fragile.

Steve steps closer, placing his hands on Eddie’s waist, “You started it” he says as an apology. Kind of.

Eddie huffs and moves his hands to Steve shoulder’s, one thumb pressed to his pulse, “I regret it”

Steve hums, “Just for the record? A little possessiveness is kind of hot,” he says and pecks the tip of Eddie’s nose, “You questioning my feelings for you? Is not.” and then flicks it.

“Dully noted,” Eddie nods.

Steve looks him in the eye as he leans closer, kisses him fully in the mouth firmly, eyes open the whole time, and then whispers “Good boy,” before he steps away.

He smirks again seeing the full-body effect his little stunt has on Eddie. The way his eyelids fall, his mouth opens, the goosebumps on his arm hair, and the shiver that runs through his spine. He takes a moment to take it all in before he smiles, less predatory and more friendly. Eddie smiles back, and shakes his head amused, like he can't believe Steve is real. He does that a lot.

Steve then takes Eddie’s hand on his own and kisses his knuckles before moving past him and dragging him to the dining room with him,

“Now c’mon. Let’s go eat pie with my new friend”

e͟n͟d͟

a coffee? a doobie? ☕🥐💕

#stranger things #argyle #steve #friendship #and a little #steddie #on the side #because i cant help myself #i wrote something

988 notes · View notes

crappycamille · 9 months

Text

a/n: gasp, i actually wrote something. be easy on me okay, i haven’t done this in a while. just some fluffy conjecture tbh, although there is one suggestive line but that’s why all my stuff is 18+, minors dni please… enjoy <3

Bakugou Katsuki had never experienced touch.

Well, that’s not entirely true. He had been touched before: punched and hit by those desperately trying to escape his pursuit, clung to by those fearing for their life, gentle yet encouraging pats on the back from friends, loving but annoying pinches of the ear from his mother. He’s even been pawed at and caressed by lust-filled women that satisfy temporary needs. And even more dangerously, he’s been fondled by the promise of love disguised as lust… But never had Bakugou been touched.

At least until you.

The first time you touched Bakugou is a memory he will never forget. He was bone tired having worked an incredibly grueling month-long mission.

Instead of going home to catch up on much-needed sleep, he immediately went to his office to get the paperwork done. Most people don’t know that a lot of things on the legal side can’t go through until his side of the paperwork is done. Bakugou constantly feels like he’s never fast enough. No matter how fast he can get to the victims. No matter how fast he catches the villain. No matter how fast he gets things done he wasn’t fast enough to prevent the victims from becoming victims in the first place. So, in his mind, the least he could do is get his paperwork done as fast as possible so that those involved can get their justice.

But, of course, the moment the mission is done—before he’s even had a chance to change out of his hero suit—he’s met with nothing but a mountain of news articles and tabloid headlines ridiculing his name. They find joy in villainizing him over the smallest of details.

Most of the time, Bakugou ignores those things. It doesn’t matter to him what others think. They can nitpick whatever they want because despite that he won. He saved the people who needed to be saved. To him, that was all that really mattered… usually.

It must have been his level of exhaustion, but he couldn’t help the way his brows furrowed in disappointment reading the headlines. The words for the public sitting heavier on his chest than normal. His emotions got to him more than normal as he walked down the hallway from his official, finally heading home.

It was late.

Far too late for anyone else to still be there. Yet, he swore he could hear the soft pitter-patter of heels clicking against the floor. As he turned the corner he was met with the sight of you packing up. You hadn’t noticed him yet, so he watched with confusion as scurried around filing documents, turning off computers, and locking doors.

“The hell? Why’re you still here?” He internally cringed as his voice boomed more than he meant it to since you nearly jumped out of your skin upon hearing him.

“Oh Dynamight, Sir! I apologize I meant to be out of here before you noticed I was here.” Exhaustion seeped through your voice, giving you more rasp than normal.

“That’s not what I asked you. The hell’re you still here for?”

“Well…” you scratched your head feeling a bit shy, debating on whether or not to tell him the real reason why you were there. “I stayed to make sure all of the paperwork you submitted just now went through. As head of your legal team, it’s my job to make sure things on the agency’s side are squared away. I understand you like to get things done immediately after a mission, Sir.”

Bakugou was speechless. So many questions riddle through his head he wanted to ask. Had you done this after every mission and he never noticed you? yes When had you noticed that he came in after missions to do paperwork? Why did you care? Instead, he watched wordlessly as you gathered your things.

“You don’t need to do that.” He finally spoke. His tone was unusually soft, nearing sweet if you squinted hard enough. You breathily chuckled. You had been working for Bakugou long enough to know that was his way of saying thank you.

“It’s really no problem, Sir. No reason you have to be the only person in the office so late, especially after working such long missions.” You softly smiled at him. With you being so close, he could see the exhaustion prominent in your own face.

The two of you worked your way out of the building together in silence. Bakugou felt that he had so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to ask, but they all muddled to the back of his mind.

It was only when you guys reached the front lobby exit that he became aware of the incessant buzzing of his phone. Countless mentions, tags, reposts, and message requests were flooding in from every social media app. He could’ve sworn he turned his notifications off a long time ago, but there they were. Those same articles that called him a corrupt hero, a heinous/reckless man, and nitpicked things down to the way he breathed were being sent to him over and over again. A constant reminder that so many people disapprove of him.

He hadn’t noticed how tightly he had been gripping his phone. How clenched his bicep was until he felt a gentle squeeze on his arm. Your hand was small in comparison to his but its presence was overwhelming.

Your thumb subtly rubbed soothing circles on his clenched bicep. “If it’s worth anything, I think you’re incredibly kindhearted. The world is lucky to have a hero like you protecting it. Goodnight, Sir. Get some rest.”

Bakugou thought he was going to melt the second you pulled your hand away. Your words rang loud in his ears, but his skin buzzed even louder at the lingering effects of your touch. He had to stop himself from sobbing in the lobby that night.

There was something oh so special about your touch.

From the first time you ever touched him to the way, you touch him now as his wife. He swears he has to stop himself from sobbing every time. It’s the overwhelming love that pours out of you every time your skin connects with his.

He was so incredibly touch-starved before you came along. Starved from the kind of touch that doesn’t come from platonic relationships. Starved from the touch of someone that didn’t expect to gain something from him in return. Starved from the intimate touch of true love.

He revels in every little touch you grace him with. The way you hold his hand under the dinner table. The way you pinch him lovingly, reminding him of his mother, when he says something out of pocket.The way you squeeze his thigh and rub soothing circles on him when tensions get high in a meeting. The way you nestle your face in his back as he cooks. The way you lightly slap his shoulder as you laugh hysterically. The way you drag your hands along his sides as he lays on you. The way you claw at him desperate to somehow bring him impossibly closer as he thrusts into you.

In all honesty, he still has a hard time fathoming that you are his. That you are in love with him. That you choose to be with him every day. He feels undeserving, but you always definitively object. He believes that you are so much more than anything he could ever be, but that’s exactly how you feel about him.

Your touch is just one of the things he obsesses over you. Because he is just so incredibly in love with you.

#would you believe that my love language actually isn’t physical touch BHAHA #bakugou thoughts #bakugou x reader #bakugou drabble #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou comfort #my beloved

2K notes · View notes

klausysworld · 5 months

Note

Do u think u could make something where Klaus after he's become the hybrid goes round innocent readers house and reader just has like 2 or 3 massive dogs like Rottweiler, great Dane, Newfoundland, a breed like that, like, how would he be with that after he'd recently unlocked his wolf side and he's just like, really territorial over reader then the dogs become more territorial over reader, just something along those lines.ALSO, if this doesn't make sense then I'm really sorry and I love your writing❤

They’re Just Puppies!

Y/n didn’t ever have Klaus round her house, she said that it was too small and that he wouldn’t like it. Klaus told her it was ridiculous and if it belonged to her then he would love it but she continued to refuse.

Begrudgingly he let it go.

Until of course he unlocked his wolf side. Once his beast was in control, he was able to smell the other canines on her. His wolf did not like that at all. So naturally he would rub as much of his scent on her as possible, ensuring that any being with a nose would be able to smell him everywhere.

She never questioned it and just enjoyed the affection, she would snuggle against him and bask in his warmth.

But then as soon as she got home, her dogs would become confused and alarmed by the smell of another animal on her and would ensure to clean the scent off as best they could.

To Klaus’s wolf this was a competition, whoever or whatever was marking her was challenging him and he didn’t take it lightly.

He made sure to have her on him all the time, sat on his lap or held in his arms. He would have her dress in his clothes and would insist she kept them.

Y/n remained oblivious to the territorial nature of Klaus’s behaviour, she hadn’t been in a relationship before and assumed everyone was as protective and possessive over their lover like he was. So she fed into it and happily and would wrap herself up in his henleys, she’d shower at his house and use his soap like he told her to and snuggled up in his sheets so that every inch of her skin smelt of him.

Klaus was glad at her willingness, it eased his mind but he would still smell the dogs on her and he couldn’t distinguish if it was wolf or your average pet. A brief wondering of her being a werewolf passed his mind but she was far too docile and sweet to have ever killed someone. Even if her wolf side were dormant he couldn’t imagine her ever unlocking it and he didn’t want her to unless she absolutely had to. No he’d make any kills necessary for her so that she may remain innocent.

Her innocence made her so easy to love, she just wanted to be with him and curl up in his hold. When he was angry she would just hug him and apologise for things that weren’t her fault and she would defend his actions with everything she had. Klaus in return would ensure that not an ounce of harm should ever come to her. She didn’t deserve any suffering.

The only time her innocence became slightly frustrating was when Klaus tried to insinuate anything sexual. To begin with his hints and touches weren’t acknowledged at all but gradually he made himself more clear and introduced her to new feelings.

His wolf especially loved to push her limits, loved to claim her as his own and fill her with his love.

After a while, Klaus managed to convince Y/n to let him come to her house.

When she opened the door, three big Rottweilers were immediately all over her. Klaus’s wolf let out a low growl as she giggled and stroked the dogs, calling them all ‘good boys’. Those two words made his wolf snap, he pulled her back into his arms and pressed himself tightly against her. She laughed and look up at him with a smile.

“They won’t bite, they’re gentle really I promise” she told him, unaware of the way they all bared their teeth at Klaus.

Their mouth shut as soon as she turned to them and a flow a whined left them, their tails wagging as they begged for her attention.

She pulled away from Klaus making him frown. She proceeded to lead her dogs to the kitchen and fill their bowls but they were more interested and getting Klaus’s scent off of her skin.

The hybrid did not like this at all. He flashed his golden eyes at one of the dogs which resulted in one of them growling threateningly and biting ur teeth at him. Y/n told the pet off and apologised with a confused tone. “People don’t really come over so maybe he just doesn’t like you in the house” she murmured, stroking the dogs head lovingly making Klaus’s wolf whimper.

Eventually he had her away from them and instead pressed against the couch.

The Rottweilers stayed on the floor, a serious of quiet growls sounding from them as they watched Klaus push his tongue into Y/n’s mouth. She would whine and moan softly, her legs wrapping around him and hands in his hair. Klaus would glance at the dogs every now and then, his gaze threatening and deliberate as he rubbed his hands against her body.

His mouth attacked her neck next, purposefully making those dark marks that ranged from red to blue along her neck. Y/n whimpers his name on repeat, her fingers tugging his curls desperately.

Eventually one of her pets got frustrated enough and came over, growling and snapping its teeth at Klaus.

Immediately he snarled back and pulled away, letting his hybrid features take over his face.

“Klaus!” Y/n gasped “stop, they’re puppies” she cried, pushing him off and letting one of her Rottweilers jump on beside her. Klaus’s jaw clenched as he watched her hug and kiss the animal of the head, smiling and whispering to him.

“That is not a puppy” he grumbled and she looked up at him sadly

“You don’t like him? Any of them?” She asked quietly, and Klaus’s expression changed. Would she leave him if he didn’t get on with the dogs?

“I- not yet! But maybe, I just don’t know them” he cleared his throat and reached out to pet the dog only for it to grab his hand with its teeth.

“He’s just playing, come on drop” she commanded and the dog let go of his hand, happy to get praise and pets from Y/n. Klaus narrowed his eyes but smiled when she looked his way. Silently he pulled her into his lap and hummed

“How about we go upstairs?” He proposed and she nodded

“Sure, now?” She asked

“Mhm definitely” he mumbled whilst picking her up and quickly taking her upstairs and into her room. He dropped them both onto her bed and crawled on top of her with a soft sigh of relief. The moment was short lived as all three dogs jumped up beside them, laying down on her bed and wagging their tails knowingly.

Klaus groaned and laid on top of her, squishing her and making her giggle. “What’re you doing” she whispered and he mumbled

“Do they have to be in here?”

“They sleep here” she told him with the tilt of her head

“I know sweetheart but currently I don’t plan on sleeping right now love. We can let them in…later” he moaned and she sighed

“Fine but…they’ll cry”

“Doesn’t bother me” he replied easily

“Okay” she whispered as she moved from under him and ushered her boys out of her room and shut the door. Klaus grinned and tackled her back to bed, kissing her all over and pulling the covers over them. Y/n let out a giggle and pressed her lips to his.

Just as Klaus’s hands got to her panties, the handle of the door went. Y/n tensed and Klaus’s head shot up. He look in the direction only to find the Rottweilers stood in the doorway, tails wagging and tongues hanging.

“Why didn’t I see that coming?” Klaus uttered to himself, staring blankly at the animals and wondering how he would figure this out.

785 notes · View notes

phantoms-world-and-more · 1 year

Text

Danny after a reveal gone wrong, is dropped into the DC universe by clockwork to "recover and let loose"

He learned that because this universe is swarming with heros it dosent reeeaaallly need protection

So for the first 2 months danny juat relaxes, using his connection with the ghosts and shades of gothem to get himself a pretty good appartment with a fair amount of free time amd cash

What he wasent expecting was for the ghosts of residential obsessed billionaire bruceie wayne's parents, thomas and martha, to ask him to protect bruce

Danny thinks it over and decided, 'fuck it, how much work could it be, besides i need to protect someone anyway'

Danny was contemplating walking up and punching batman in the face

Turns out the obsessed billionaire, is a parinoid creepy emotionally constipated vigilante

It was 3 weeks into protecting thomas and Martha's "little boy" and danny was already sick of it, and of bruce, the comious amounts of time danny spent knocking out goons was ridiculous, let alone and amount of times he needed to help out the robins

And how the fuck did he raise them, the little one is so violent he could rival the way his parents talked about ghosts

It was after mid afternoon, after danny day job and he's waiting for the sun to go down to keep mr.dark and brooding safe

It was then that another shade plopped itself on his lap, this one specifically had been following him for the last few days

It was 10 minutes later that the little shade gave him an idea, an amazing idea of how to make protecting the dumb fuck that was bruce wayne MUCH more fun, danny looked at the sun and he knew he had time

He got black cargo pants, a black tank top, a labcoat that he dyed toxic green, a white gas mask, one of those belts construction people wear to hold tools and stuff, combat boots, white gloves and a crap ton of scrap metal, househole appliances and a tool box

He spent the next 5 hours constructing little gadgets, remaking the fenton-thermos-model human and preparing for a night out.

Danny was set

In his labcoat was the hand held stuff

:extra tools, retractable boe staff, smoke bombs, mini fire works, trackers

In his cargo pants he had the more heave hitters: the guns he designed, more smoke bonbs, lipstick lazers, wire

But his belt was his favourite: the now human souping thermos, a harly quinn inspired mallet and the ectoplasm grenades,

Tonights going to be fun

Batman saw alot of things, lately things have been too easy, he got hit less, goons attacks hurt less and sometimes his rouge took too long to atrack ofter breaking out of arkham

It had set him on edge

Even his kids said things seemed easer, so he's not paranoid

Tonight however gave him many more questions

During the usual fight with riddler, a kid slightly younger than tim, wearing a gas mask, dropped from the roof like the spawn of satan, dropped smoke bombs, then the sounds of violence accured

when bruce could see again, all the goons were strung up on wire upsidedown

The riddler was tied to a chair which was hanging by one leg over a vat of...something with a smile drawn on his face and his eyes blindfolded

When he looked up the labcoat wearing kid was holding a mallet and a grenade of some kind

:awww dont worry, none of them will die, I'm like you in that sence, i dont kill people...howeverrr messing with them is fair game

Batman tried to stare him down but that made the kid laugh

:aww that wont work B, besides if i wanted to hurt you I'd of done it in the last 3 weeks

So this was why things were easer

With one last laugh the kid dropped the bomb and Lazarus filled Bruce's sights

2K notes · View notes

starlazergazer · 1 year

Text

It’s Not Too Late

Pairing: Anakin x Reader

Request: Anakin gets a second chance to have true freedom and peace! Reader comes across Darth Vader for the first time after order 66 and attempts to pull Anakin back on the right path.

Warnings: None, some angst

Word count: 3k

A/N: Only in this one very instance can you fix him! I know the request asks for fluffy but I made this super angsty instead with some fighting banter between Anakin and the reader so I hope you like it because I loved writing it!

You’d heard the whispers, how could you not, though no one was ever brave enough to tell you them to your face. Not that you blamed them. That your best friend Anakin Skywalker could be the famous Darth Vader, Palpatine’s personal padawan, was so ludicrous, so ridiculous, you wouldn’t have let anyone utter the accusation in your presence leave unscathed.

And yet still a part of you knew.

The day it happened, the exact moment it happened, you could feel it. More than a disturbance in the force, more than a breaking of prophecy: a betrayal, a very personal very painful betrayal.

But still looking up at the man you had thought you once knew from your position chained on the floor you felt the last part of your hope die, unaware even that that hope had existed in the first place.

“I didn’t want to believe the rumors” you shook your head at him, eyes bouncing back and forth between those familiar but very different blue ones.

“And here I thought you’d be happy to see me” a smirk grew over his lips as he looked down at you. And somehow those words hurt worse than seeing him walk around with such authority through the empire’s army, more than seeing a new infamously red saber strapped to his hip.

“You’ve changed” you shook your head back up at him, feeling the lump grow in the base of your throat with each passing minute “You are not the Anakin I knew”

“I am exactly the Anakin you knew” he chuckled back at you, crossing his arms over his chest as he sat down calmly in the chair before you, causally crossing one leg over the other “Just finally lived up to my full potential”

And you didn’t know how to respond to that, to his complete acceptance, even beyond that his full belief that he was being aided by the dark side of the force, that it was somehow making him better, stronger. “What do you want?”

“Your base” he answered plainly, leaving forward in his seat to rest his elbows on his knees staring down at you “the rebel base, I want coordinates”

“What makes you think I have them?” You asked with a shrug, watching the smug smile slowly fade from his face.

“Don’t play dumb it was never a good look on you”

You felt your own anger spike within you as his did. He clearly didn’t know you that well if he thought you would give it up this easy. “What happened to being the chosen one?” You taunted him, turning to pressing his buttons on purpose, proving even if just to yourself that at least you knew him “you were supposed to-“

“-bring balance to the force yes I’ve heard it all before” and oh how you relished the anger in his tone, in the way the words hissed out through a clenched jaw, the way his eyes narrowed down at you ever so slightly, you’d always enjoyed messing with angry Anakin “answer the question”

“I’m just saying if you wanna talk about playing dumb, does turning to the dark side really seem like the best way to go about that?”

“Says the one chained to the floor” he pushed to his feet towering over you as he spoke “Now because of our past I’m giving you a chance here, a chance to answer to me instead of the emperor, do not mistake this kindness for weakness” and before you could respond he was turning around and walking back through the door, but you weren’t done. You couldn’t let him leave it like that, couldn’t let him bring up your past friendship like it was nothing more than a bargaining chip to be cashed in later.

“You know I thought we had lost you with order 66” You called out after him “I mourned your death” you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel shame over the way your voice shook, overwhelming amounts of anger and betrayal trumping any and all other emotions within you.

He didn’t even look back as he spoke in a disturbingly monotone voice “Anakin Skywalker is dead. I am what remains”

You shook your head at his response though he couldn’t see it, hating him for the way he tried to hide from what he has done, shelter who he once was from the man he has become.

A bitter laugh escaped you “No, you don’t get to distance yourself from your own actions, you don’t get to protect that jedi you once were by calling yourself a different name.”

His body went rigid at your words, the surprise from your outburst evident in his reaction, it wouldn’t surprise you to learn that you were the first person to ever call him out on it.

“Anakin Skywalker was my friend” you pushed on, spitting the words at his feet “and you tarnish his memory with every action done in the name of the empire"

Anakin spun around on his heel at your words, a dangerous smirk on his face before he knelt down squatting before you, an all too familiar mischievous twinkle in his eye “You know I always liked the way you spoke your mind no matter what” A taunt in his tone, a look that dared you to step out of line “You never really knew when to shut up did you? I suggest you learn”

“You forget that I know you” you taunted back, leaning in even closer to him, showing him he wasn’t scaring you by forcing proximity “you can’t hide behind your charms from me Skywalker”

Still the smug smirk didn’t drop from his face, his eyes taking a second to bounce between yours before locking on a piece of hair that fell in front of your face. Slowly his hand reached out, effortlessly tucking it back behind your ear like he had done a thousand times before. And suddenly you were back beneath the stars with him, talking about the future, upcoming missions, battle strategies, just about anything you could think of to keep him out there with you.

His hand struck with practiced efficiency, reaching out to grab your chin before you could even comprehend its movement, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he held your gaze on his “You will tell me where the rebel base is or I will take you to see emperor Palpatine, and trust me neither of us wants that to happen”

And even though the mere gesture of pulling your hair behind your ear had sent your heart racing and your mind reeling you forced your eyes to lock onto his, pushing down any feelings of familiarity, telling yourself exactly what he had just told you moments ago Anakin Skywalker is dead, he is what remains

“What’s the magic word?”

He cracked a smile at that, still holding you in place for a few seconds longer, giving you one last opportunity to answer before finally dropping your face, muttering a soft “so be it” before standing back up and heading for the door.

It had been easy to escape your bindings, too easy honestly, to the point that a small part of you wondered if you had been meant to escape them in the first place, if this was what your past with Anakin was worth to him, a chance and a poorly hidden saber.

You broke for the nearest town as soon as you could, keeping low and your thin scarf pulled over your face knowing it was far too easy to stick out in the empty desert.

You didn’t make it that far.

“You really thought it would be that easy?” His voice taunted you from behind, your body sagging slightly as you heard it, you hadn’t even noticed his approach.

“Yeah honestly” you returned, spinning around to face him “planning was never your forte”

He chuckled softly at that, shaking his head, casting his eyes down to his feet as he rested a single hand on his saber on his hip, looking far too much like the Anakin you had once known long ago. “Tell me where the base is Y/N”

And even though it remained unsaid you could feel the threat in his voice, in the way he glared at you, in the way his hand on his saber twitched.

“Are you not going to ask me about him?” You knew now wasn’t the time for the question, knew it was dumb to press that particular button now, but you couldn’t stand letting Anakin cast him off like this, cast you off like this.

He faltered at your question, his shoulders dropping slightly, his hand slipping from his saber. “You’ve been in contact with him?”

“Of course I have” you sighed, “And Ahsoka, Rex” you let your sentence trail off, hang in the air, let him come to you and ask the question if he wanted to know.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as Anakin waited, as you waited, only breaking when his voice spoke up, a shake in it you weren’t expecting “are they-“

And maybe it was the way his voice shook, the way his posture slumped, the way those all too familiar blue eyes were silently begging you, but you took pity on him, chancing a small step forward as you finished his sentence “they’re okay. Ahsoka even removed Rex’s chip, they’re all okay”

Another silence hung in the air, an almost imperceptible nod in Anakin’s head as he stared down at his feet, only looking up to chance a look at you when he finally spoke again, in a small defeated voice “just tell me where the base is Y/N, that’s all I need, then I can turn around and pretend I never saw you here”

You sighed at that, shaking your head softly “You know I can’t do that Ani”

He chuckled bitterly at that, going for his saber, igniting it, his face illuminating in red as he did so.

And instinctively your hand went to your own saber, ready to draw it and defend yourself, ready to be caught up in a sparing match with Anakin just as you had so many times before, but no, you had to remind yourself, it wouldn’t be just sparing this time around, not anymore.

You unclipped it from your belt, taking a moment to feel its weight in your hand, before tossing it to the side, watching the sand around it kick up as it landed a few feet away from you. “I won’t fight you”

Anakin shook his head, his eyes snapping to your saber on the ground next to you, a bitter laugh that didn’t full materialize on his lips “I’m not falling for that”

“Its not a trick” you shrugged, opening your hands before you, “I won’t fight you”

“Pick up your saber Y/N” he yelled at you, still holding his own before him, still poised to strike but holding back, waiting “I will not tell you again”

You watched him with a small shake of your head “Ani I can’t fight you”

And for a second you just watched his chest rise and fall quickly as a war raged in his mind, as he debated his next steps, before a frustrated yell ripped through the air and he was charging at you, and you couldn’t help yourself, you closed your eyes, a breath catching in your chest as you waited for the inevitable, and kept on waiting.

A tentative eye opened to see a bright flash of red, hovering just above your shoulder, just waiting there. Your gaze followed it up to Anakin only to see he wasn’t looking at you, he was looking down at his saber. And you could tell from the look in his eyes, from the way his grip kept changing, from the rapid fall and rise of his chest, that he was trying to talk himself into it.

Then a sigh and the blade was retracted, Anakin refusing to meet your gaze as he stepped back “get out of here Y/N”

And immediately you took a step back, your body begging you to run, to put this place and Anakin as far behind you as possible. But still you couldn’t.

“Come with me”

His gaze snapped up to yours in surprise, his eyebrows crunched together in confusion “I can’t” it came out as more a question.

“You can” you tried to encourage him, taking a tentative step towards him “You can come with me now and we can figure the rest of it out”

“I work for the empire” he spoke softly, “the empire isn’t what you think it is, they’re doing good, I’m doing good”

You sighed with a shake of your head, still inching forward, still holding out hope “You, you became the very thing you sought to destroy. Turning your back on everything you once stood for”

“Did I?” he challenged you calmly, repeating thoughts you knew he’d already gone through a thousand times before “or am I still upholding my same beliefs. I vowed to serve the republic and I still do, no matter what name it goes by now”

“You vowed to serve the people of the republic” you corrected “and now under the empires rule those people suffer”

“under the empire’s rule they are safe” he countered “From the time we were children we were told we were meant to be peacekeepers and that is exactly what I am doing now”

“You call this peace?” You couldn’t help but chuckle “How many die each day because of the empire’s tyranny”

“Because of the resistances rebellion” he countered but there was no malice in it, not the same angry argument as before but rather a debate.

“Look at them Anakin” you gestured to the town just before you, at the people begging for scraps outside of the bar, at the buildings crumbling from lack of maintenance “this is the effect the empire has on people”

Anakin shook his head at the sight before him, his eyes casting back down to the sand too quickly.

“Look at them” you repeated, putting more force into your words, practically begging him “Look at what the empire has done to this town, what you have done.”

“The empire stopped the war” Anakin’s gaze suddenly snapped back up to yours, a new defensiveness in his tone you weren’t used to hearing from him “these people are at peace, they do not fear for their lives anymore and that is what the empire has done”

“These people are starving” you objected, trying to keep your voice light but firm “they no longer fear death at the hands of intergalactic war but rather storm troopers on a power trip, bounty hunters, vagrants. They are far from safe”

“And what would you have me do now?” He demanded, exasperation in his tone “I stopped a war, I gave everything to stop a war”

“And now?” you questioned him “you did it, you stopped the war, why are you with them now?”

Anakin didn’t respond to that, his mind churning as his eyes bounced back and forth between yours, not saying a word as his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.

It all seemed to click for you then, where his hesitation was coming from, his stubbornness, his need to believe he was right, had been right all along “It’s not too late for you you know”

Anakin froze on the spot, eyes jumping up to meet yours, desperately willing for you to continue.

“You made a few mistakes, took some missteps but you can still do good”

“I’ve made a lot more than a few mistakes” his tone was soft and dejected.

“That’s okay” you tried to assure him with a shake of your head “You can still do good”

He shook his head in response, eyes finally lifting from you to scan the town around you “that’s not who I’m meant to be, that is not my destiny”

“Screw destiny” you countered quickly “it wasn’t long ago your destiny was to bring balance to the force and now the jedi order no longer exists. There is no more destiny there is just the choices you make here and now”

“I can’t” he objected weakly with a shake of his head “I can’t just leave”

“you can” you countered but saw as he refused to listen to you, taking steps back, so you forward, without a second thought wrapping your arms around his neck, whispering the words into his ear “Ani you can”

And you felt him go rigid under your touch, refuse to give in, but not quite pushing you off.

“Let go what you have done in the past” you tried to urge him “focus on what you can do now. And right now you can help them. You can help me”

And slowly you felt his arms come up, first placed awkwardly on your back, giving you a chance to take it all back, before slowly wrapping completely around you, pulling you deeper into him, a shaky breath escaping him as he did so, as he buried his face in your hair “I don’t know how it all went so wrong”

“I know Ani I know” you assured him softly, rubbing a hand up and down his back “but now we can work to make it better”

“We?” You heard the hope in his voice and couldn’t help but chuckle, chuckle and fight to keep the tears at bay.

Pulling back from him softly, noting the way his arms seemed reluctant to let you go completely, just enough that you could look into his eyes. “You and me, we’ll make it right”

#anakin x reader #Anakin Skywalker #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin fic #anakin imagine #anakin x you #anakin x y/n #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker x you #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine #star wars x you #star wars x reader

1K notes · View notes

goldsbitch · 4 months

Text

That one call overseas

part 7 to That one Christmas flight

summary: Now that we don't talk.

warning: pure angst this time, cheesy af, swear words I guess, cliche probably, typos most definitely

The hole Y/N dug for herself was getting deeper with each day of no contact with Lando. Gone was her ability to contain her emotions within herself. Her friends were getting concerned. Their ever so calm and easy going friend turned into an impulsive, unreliable and even slightly rude menace.

Teresa was the one who kept patience with her in the worst days, as only the best of friends do. When Y/N got kicked out of a bar for the first time in her life for her comments in lousy bad Italian on a random couple in the late hours of their Friday night, Teresa walked her home and screamed Hits Different with her at the top of their lungs to ease the atmosphere. And once they were home, she listened to Y/N rant about how she would never ever call the asshole who does not even bother to text her again. Teresa also stopped her from throwing his hoodie away, knowing that the following morning would hurt just a little more.

When Y/N woke up the following noon, she took a hard look in the mirror. This was getting ridiculous. She swore to herself and all of her roommates that no more alcohol and no more Lando desperation. It's a crush - it'll pass. One day this will be a nice story to tell the kids she'll have with some Antonio, the accountant or Ignacio, the lawyer. Not Lando, the racer - and that was ok.

Lando was off to Montreal and things could not be more busy for him. New updates to test, again, as his frustration grew. He only wished to be finally at the top podium, which seemed to always slip in between his hands. His mind, of course, was clouded by the thoughts of Y/N. At first he thought ashamed of himself for not reaching out and appearing like an asshole - but he somewhat expected her to break the silence. He started to second guess every aspect of the time they shared together. Perhaps she did not have as great time as he had, perhaps he acted like an asshole, or perhaps he just was not good enough for those who were not under the F1 charm spell. Not good enough for her. He finally resorted into doing something he tries to avoid as much as possible - looked at the fan pages and comments to boost his ego up. It only led to him feeling more shameful and pathetic than when he started. He kept her necklace and brought it with him. For all it was worth, he had an amazing memory to look back at, no matter how delusional he felt doing that.

The paddock was a great place to be at when searching for a distraction, so he made sure to spend as little time as possible alone and surrounded himself with people. He even walked to the stands often than he usually would, searching fans and giving photos out, smiling a little to extra on all the girls who looked remotely close to Y/N. Who knows, he might pick up someone like that at the end of Montreal ride. Why not. Nobody was stopping him.

He went to the race with all he had, fully prepped and focused. However, red flags, poor strategy choice had him finishing way below the targeted place. To his luck, Oscar was on a roll of luck and finished way better compared to Lando - and of course that everyone compared. Debrief meetings like that drown the soul more than usually.

Influx of all the journalists was overwhelming that day. The interview fatigue hit hard and after few of those, Lando felt that based on the questions he was asked, everyone thought of this race like a massive fail for him. His own answers continually worsened.

"Why do you think this week has ended the way it did?" asked one of the more prominent interviewers.

"Well, you know how it is. Sometimes the week just does not go the way you'd wish, even if last weekend it seemed like we're on a track to something good. One things affects the other and getting out of that rut is challenging."

"Are you talking about the updates, or something different?"

"Yeah, something like that. But as they say, when life gives you lemons, right. Make lemonade...or limoncello for a rainy day, ey?"

"Well, we hope to see the cheerful Lando soon and ideally at a podium too!" Lando knew the interviewer was only doing his job and technically she was not doing anything wrong, but he could not help and for a split second let his face do a look, that was certainly not appropriate for someone who was so used to media and knew he had to be smart around them.

He was in no mood to watch a celebration of Oscar or to get wrapped up in the post race chaos. Once he felt free to leave, he did, putting his phone on don't disturbe mode and went for a walk around the city with his headphones on, to dwelve in some sad tunes and solitude of his own thoughts.

Y/N asked Teresa to punch her anytime she looked like she was about to search Lando news. Her roommate refused to do that as it would be a full time job, but did help her set up some tags to block. Saturday was a success, however once Sunday evening and race time rolled in, Y/N knew she was absolutely not ready to try and ignore it. So instead they made a girls evening in about it. The idea was to replace real memories with Lando for race watching and distance him. They were trying... So they sat together with their study books to combine distractions. Y/N was explaining the race rules, avoiding any personal remarks about Lando. To her own disappointment, he was not featured a lot as there was not much really going on for him during the race. But maybe it was for the best. It really felt alienating, seeing his face on the screen, a character in the story of F1, so far removed from the unfiltered smiling face she had burned in her memory. The mood in the apartment was calm, maybe a little mellow. There was a weird calmness in Y/N, as she knew for a fact that he was busy. Knowing that she will definitely not get any text and that he was not ignoring her was soothing for the soul, even if for just few hours. At the end, the girls had way better time than expected, Teresa taking the initiative to comment on all the rest of the drivers and ranking them based on looks and vibes. She became a Leclerc girl all the way in.

"Right, that's my cue to go to the bathroom," Y/N stood up as the post race interviews rolled in. That would be too much at the moment.

"Love the drama vibes you give off. I'll watch it and let you know if there was anything alarming," Teresa assured her.

"Doubt that," was the bitter response she received back.

Once Y/N came back, she returned to her friend sitting with a puzzled look.

"What?!" all the pent up emotions took the stage, all the hard worked stillness gone as if it was a dream.

Teresa sat in silence, looking bluntly at the screen.

"What??!" Y/N repeated impatiently. "Ugh, forget this charade. I'll just watch it." This all felt like she had passed the test, but hadn't learned the lesson at all.

"Yeah, maybe you should. Interesting, his voice is higher that I imagined," Teresa replied as Y/N became to rewind the stream. They sat in silence, as they watched post race Lando in his tiredness, obvious annoyance and visible dark circles under his eyes. A shock went through Y/N at the word limoncello.

"Y/N, it must a coincidence. He's just been to Italy, so the connection was there...means probably nothing," Teresa said quietly as she watched her bewildered friend.

"Limoncello. Name a more Italian drink...What the fuck?? Is he joking right now? What is this?"

"Y/N, he has no idea you're watching, remember?"

"Yeah, I don't care about that. Makes it even worse actually." She replayed his interview once again.

"Ok, that's it - I'm taking this away from you," Teresa ordered after she saw Y/N going for a third round of the interview. "Do you wanna talk about it, talk it through?" So they went on to the kitchen, cooked some pasta while Y/N went on a rant where she let all her thoughts let loose.

"Honestly, fuck him. I don't need the mess he brings into my life. I can find great sex on every corner in this city!"

"Yeah, you go girl!"

"You know what, I'm gonna call him!" Y/N turned directions again for 17th time that day.

"Yeah, I kind of thought you would," Teresa sighed tiredly. "And I think you should, the worst thing you might get is a peace of mind...eventually."

"Yeah, I'm gonna do it! Now!"

She dialed his number. The phone rang for the first time. The second and third. With the seventh dial, she hung up. The girls looked at each and Teresa went for a hug.

"He might be busy with some racing stuff?" Teresa said in a tone which suggested that she herself had a hard time believing.

"I'm so stupid," Y/N whispered.

Of course he would miss it. Obviously. Because that just what seems to follow him and this girl around. It was deep evening over at her timezone, but still ok for a late night talk. He called back. What was he even planning on saying? He had no idea. When she did not pick up, he called for a second time. She picked up his facetime call and to say his heart skipped a beat would be an understatement. His heart triple jumped. A face appeared in low light. She smiled.

"Hey you," he opened with. The word honey almost slipped his tongue, but he was not sure how it would be received on the other side of the line.

She waved and gestured him to be silent. Lando was bewildered.

"Where are you?" he whispered, trying to unsucesfully figure out from her background. Again, he was met with a shush. Well, this will be real fun, Lando thought, slightly annoyed.

"Wait, you have me in your earbuds...so you need to be silent, not me!" Y/N frowned and nodded. She got up from where she was sitting and started walking.

"Well, since I have some guaranteed no interruption time, let me fill your ears with a story! There once was a beautiful girl, who talked so much and was so obnoxious that the city decided to ban her from speaking. Luckily, she found the most handsome guy in the town to keep her company with his wit, charm and great looks. To reward him for his services she sent him-"

"Ok, you can STOP now," she exclaimed, as she walked down the stairs.

"Where the fuck are you at this hour, young lady. Someone should seriously keep an eye on you!"

"Yeah, well, I sometimes think the same - and then I'm suddenly sitting in some random hotel room hundreds of miles away from where I was supposed to be," she winked at him. "No, I was at the church."

"Oh...you religious? Wait, are the churches still open?"

"Yes, silly. It's Italy, one always is. And no, I'm not religious per say."

"Oh, well then it makes perfect sense that you're hanging out in churches at midnight, yes."

"Yeah, you know. One gets bored."

"Ok, weirdo," Lando laughed.

"No, I like to go there to clear my head. There is some magic in the architecture and in the old walls," she explained. She really did go to get her head clear, to think it out. "Oh, and one day, I'd like to fuck in like a really old building. Not church exactly, but like I dunno. Our university halls are making me super hot sometimes." She had no idea why this was the first thing she'd pick as a topic. God, she felt lame.

"Well, that would be a hard thing to decline, if you're offering."

"Cheeky as ever, are we?"

"Obviously. So, tell me. Whats up? It's nice to see you by the way. I wanted to tell you that before you shushed me down so politely."

"Aw, nice to see you too, man." Lando would prefer to be called differently. "Some school stuff, completely blew my Monday's presentation, so that was fun."

"You should have studied in the weekend, hmm!"

"Yes! I should have," she had a hard time keeping the smiles in, "Anyway, otherwise it's been pretty much a lot of nothing."

"So you called me because you're bored and not because you wanted to talk to me?" He knew he was pushing it. But desperate times... She hesitated and shot him a strange look he could not decipher.

"Did you know we also have leaning tower here in Bologna?" Y/N panned the phone to show him one of the two towers in the city centre. She was walking around with no apparent destination. "Have you been here?"

Lando smiled weakly. There was a strange frustration regarding the distance he felt towards her. Not the physical miles. "Yeah, I've been there once." His Bologna trip was not exactly a great memory. Maybe this call had been a mistake. The last thing he needed now was to feel strange. He showed her the park he had been walking in.

"I'm in Montreal! Have you been?" Y/N also felt some strange vibes coming through this dry conversation

"No, but sounds fun."

"Not really. There has been a lot of pressure at me lately. I'm starting to hate it. Can't say it to anyone, nobody seems to get it." He looked off to Y/N from the start of the phone call. She took few breaths to triple check that she really wanted to break the elephant in the room. It somehow seemed like a "now or never" situation.

"Saw the race today." Lando paused. He suddenly felt the most vulnerable he had ever felt with her. Did she know him from the first moment? Was she lying? He had a hard time gathering out a response. She felt that, so she started blabbering. The cat was out of the bag, so what the hell.

"I broke our rule after we met. Not immediately! But I just...it felt nice meeting you. And I had no idea about racing beforehand. I overheard your name once and I was like "there can't have been two sets of parents naming their child Lando in this century". She looked at his puzzled face. "I'm sorry." Range of emotions floated through Lando, who was particularly sensitive today. It was only a matter of time when she'd find out who he was, he knew the day had to come at some point. But there was a part of him that wanted him to be the one to tell her. To tell his side of the story first, before she could get it elsewhere. He only had to trust her that she wasn't lying from the start. Very few people liked him for him and not "the racer Lando Norris".

But then again, who was he judge? He practically stalked her down - no, not practically, he actually tracked her down. Why did he do that? Because he was wonderstuck too. He liked her. So that meant that she liked him too. Sense of pride took over.

"Don't say sorry. You look too cute doing that," se said feeling braver now and less like a teenager with a crush. "Nah, it's ok. Wanted to spare you of the NDA, but I guess too late now." The more he came to terms with the fact he was not an enigma anymore, the more confident he became. "I mean, I was the one to find you even though you're not exactly famous, so..."

"Yeah!" she said as if she forgot that. "See, bordeline creepy," she laughed, obviously feeling relieved that he hadn't hung up the phone. "But, it's you, so I guess cute?"

"I'd say it's a little problematic on both parts, so we're even, honey."

She laughed. The looks they shared were a little more intimate than their previous looks. A sense of warmth washed over Y/N.

"It's funny. Do you know when I was in Bologna?"

"Ha, I do actually. My friends saw you at a bar."

"Yes...That's not exactly a coincidence. I wanted to "bump" into you accidentally."

She bit her lip down and closed her eyes. Took a deep breath and replied: "Do you know what was also a massive fail?"

He shook his head.

"I was at Imola. I wanted to "bump" into you accidentally."

Silence followed, as the two idiots took the new information in. Butterflies flying all over Bologna and Montreal.

"I think it's time we stopped dancing around and start being clear with each other or we'll start to look really stupid," Lando stated after a moment.

"Agree, Lando."

"Great, Y/N. I want to see you again soon."

"Me too."

They talked for another hour. Chatting lightly around about this and that, heart racing, not pushing more boundaries anymore that night, as the leap felt big enough to hardly swallow for them at the time. Y/N had final exams so the next weekend was a no go for her. But they agreed she'll come over to Spain, as he calendar was clear until the summer. Apart from seeing each other, confidentiality was a big thing for both of them. They barely knew each other, even if it had felt differently every time they talked.

Y/N was unable to relax that night, as the line "I can't wait to kiss you again," which Lando said instead of a goodbye, burned in her mind with the brightest of all flames. Some people were never destined to be friends.

part 8

__________________________________________________

Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1 @superlegend216 @mehrmonga @lovely-blackinnon @mylifeihate1029 @lausdigitaldiary @tswizzleismother @goldenharrysworld @llando4norris @classiclitfreak @ophcelia @leclerc13 @starmanv @k4r1402 @biitch-with-wifi @drunk-teens-doing-drugs

259 notes · View notes

eyesxxyou · 2 months

Text

❝ sunshine pt.2 ❞ (hobie brown x male!reader)

｡ﾟ･ ¡ content. hobie x male!reader. reader pretends to hate dislike hobie. gay longing. denial of feelings. a little internalized homophobia. leg humping. handjob thru underwear. lots of kissing. hobie being a lil shut. weeks of avoiding hobie become moot when you and him find yourselves alone in a bathroom together.

wc: 3.6k

You wish you hated Hobie Brown.

It would be so easy, wouldn't it? He kissed you, did unspeakable things to you in that closet. And you let him. You enjoyed even, you relished in the way his mouth felt, his lithe fingers sinking into your flesh. the way he cooed in your ear. It would be easy to write him off completely, hate him for the rest of your life, his smug face, his hooded eyes that gaze into yours and hold secrets only known between you, him, and God.

But you don't hate him. You can't. You hate yourself more than anything. You should have never indulged him, never let him put a single finger on you. Because now, when you lie in bed at night and close your eyes, all you can see is him on his knees, feel your cock sliding down the pocket of his throat while he looks up at you through his lashes with those dark eyes of his. You can't get it up any other way. Women don't do it for you anymore.

The moment the two of you left the closet you told everyone to leave. You picked up Hobie’s clothes and shoved them into his arms before sending him out the door with the rest of them. You never once looked him in the eye.

Your friends asked Hobie what had happened inside the hour you spent together and Hobie, being quite the convincing liar, simply shrugged as if he had no idea what had set you off. “Nothin’. Think ‘e migh’ be claustrophobic.” But he knew. You both would always know, no matter how hard you attempted to scrub it from your mind. He’d keep it a secret if you did. He might start shit from time to time but he wasn’t into outing people. He’d keep the secret for you if you didn't want it.

You know better. You know yourself. If you were alone with him, something like that would happen again and you wouldn't know what to do with yourself.

So you avoided Hobie like the plague after that night. Every invitation to hang out was promptly turned down with an excuse that was only a thinly veiled lie, obvious to no one except for Hobie who knew better than to accept that you were sick 3 weeks in a row.

It was understandable. He had made you question everything you had known about yourself all within a matter of an hour. Why would you want to be around him? You feared him and everything he symbolized to you.

“It’s Hobie, isn't it?” Your friend, Riri, sighed. She had come in person to get you out of the house. There was no pretending to be sick, no feigning exhaustion. She came and she called you out so accurately you feared that Hobie might have told her what had happened in the closet. Your chest squeezed and you lost your breath, terrified that she may know.

You scoffed, anxiety swelling within your chest as you pretend to roll the question off your shoulders. “Hobie? Why would I care about Hobie?”

“Everyone knows you can't stand him. And you haven't been the same since we stuck y’all in the closet. Did he say somethin’ to you?” You looked into her eyes for any semblance of your secret and found nothing. You wished you could tell her, your shame, your pleasure, the absolute heaven you felt being in that closet with Hobie. You’d just embarrass yourself.

“No, that's ridiculous. I find him just as endlessly irritating as I always have.” You reach up, tug at your hair softly, and shift your gaze. You were telling on yourself. Fuck, if you didn't agree now, she’d definitely know that there was something up with you and Hobie. “I’ll go, it’s whatever. Just let me get ready.” Your voice was quick, snappy, you were definitely acting suspicious. But you hoped you conceding to going would distract her enough to forget.

It did. Your friends weren't the most aware bunch.

That's how you ended up here, standing in the midst of a true punk party. There was a mosh pit in the front, people inches away from getting punched in the face, starting an all-out brawl. Most were drunk or high off shitty beer and even shittier drugs.

Hobie was on stage performing. You heard his voice before you saw him, the way it echoed in your ears and left you delirious. Riri dragged you into the crowd, just far away from the mosh pit to not get trampled over, and you saw him. His dark skin glistening in a thin layer of sweat, fingers meticulously strumming at his guitar, lips pressed against the mesh of the microphone as if he were attempting to kiss it like he kissed you.

He wore a plaid skirt, his muscle shirt was just cropped enough to reveal the scant of his abdomen and the hair on his slender naval. You saw him and all you could think about was how you wanted to touch him. You wanted his black-painted lips on your neck, wanted to bury your fingers in the new growth of his hair, wanted your cock in his mouth once again and maybe to put his in yours.

The thoughts terrified you but what frightened you even more was that when you came to, Hobie was looking at you. Smug, careless, beautiful, like he knew just what you were thinking about and he was thinking the very same thing.

Face hot and embarrassed over being caught, you averted your gaze. You turned on your heels and swiftly left Riri to make your way to the bar. You needed a drink, or five, so that maybe your nausea could be attributed to something worthwhile. But no matter how far from the stage you found yourself, Hobie’s voice was still in your ear, teasing your senses, tempting your body. You felt hot and parched.

“Give me the strongest you have.” You asked the bartender and pressed your face into your hands.

Hobie played three of his songs before his time was over, the entire time you watched from the corner of your eye. Watched the way he swayed, jumped, wrecked the stage, a force to be reckoned with. You watched him and his bandmates, your friends, walk backstage and felt relief. You wouldn’t have to hear his voice everywhere you went. You hadn’t considered that meant that they would all gravitate over to you to have a chat over where you’ve been for nearly a month now.

They came over with Riri, the unknowing traitor, Hobie standing taller than everyone else in the back. They hugged you one by one, slapped your back, kissed your cheeks, told you they were happy you finally agreed to hang. You would have loved to see them if Hobie hadn’t tossed his arm over your shoulder and pulled you into him.

He smelled like musk and faint, fragrant cologne, your nose pressed to the side of his chest. You look up from where you sat on your barstool only to find him already smiling broadly down at you. “Well, well, look who decided to grace us with they presence. Miss me, sunshine?” He was so smug, so proud. If only you could kiss that look from his stupid face and leave him breathless for once instead of the other way around.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at him, shrugging his arm from your shoulders. “Don’t get so full of yourself.” You downed the rest of your drink and requested another one. Hobie came, sat on the stool beside you, and told the barkeep to add all your drinks to his tab.

“Ya been avoidin’ me, sunshine?” Hobie only really seemed interested in talking to you. The others chatted aimlessly amongst themselves. They didn’t seem to notice the way Hobie’s eyes glazed over you, the way his smile seemed a little different when it was directed at you. They also didn’t notice the way he placed his hand on your thigh, rubbing soft circles into your flesh, the way his digits fingered the rips at your jeans.

“Whyever would I be avoiding you, Hobie?” You grabbed his hand to stop his gentle assault on your thigh and he took the opportunity to lace his fingers in with yours.

“I don’ know. Why are you avoidin’ me?” His hand was hot and rough with callouses. If only he’d touch you a little more. Slide his hand up your arm, brush over your neck. You could feel your body growing warmer by the moment. You couldn’t be trusted with him, couldn’t trust yourself for that matter.

You tore your hand from his. “You know exactly why. I hate it when people play dumb.”

“Jus’ add i’ to the long list of all the reasons ya hate me.”

Oh, if only it were so easy to hate. You’d hate him till the day he died. You’d hate him beyond the grave. You’d hate him until the world combusted into flames and everyone burned with it. But it wasn’t so easy. It was actually quite hard to hate someone you longed so carnally for. If you could rid yourself of him for good, you would in a heartbeat.

Hobie ordered himself a nice large glass of beer and leaned in. “Was i’ so bad, what we did? Ya seemed to enjoy i’ in the moment.”

Your eyes grew wide, glancing about to ensure your friends hadn’t heard him.

Hobie scoffed. “Please, too loud in here. They all wrapped up in ‘emselves to pay attention t’us. Look here, sunshine.” He reached out and gently grasped your chin to make you look at him. His touch was like fire all throughout your body. Looking him in the eyes lit something in the pit of your stomach. "Ya look good t'nigh'."

His drink came and he took a sip of the froth at the top while looking at you, his gaze all affectionate and tender. The way one lover would look at another. He didn’t even have to touch you to get you riled up because you both knew him looking at you through his lashes like that was just the way he looked at you when he kissed the tip of your cock.

You needed air. It was suddenly so stuffy where you were, you felt like you were suffocating. The ache of your cock made your jeans tighten. You felt nauseous.

You must have looked crazy standing so abruptly. Your friends attempted to call your name as you pushed your way through them and searched wildly for the nearest exit. The best you could find was a bathroom sign. That would have to work.

The bathroom was grimy and covered in graffiti. Your boots suck to the floor when you walked and you’re sure you could see a leftover powdery substance on the side of the sink. You turned on the water and cupped your hands beneath it to gather some and splash it on your face.

Nothing between you and Hobie had to change. If he would simply stop provoking you, you could ignore everything else. The way your eyes lingered on his exposed body, the way his lingered on yours, the memory of your hand wrapped around his cock, stroking till he came on your tummy, the way you came in his mouth and he drank it all up.

You pressed your hand against the bulge in your jeans and moaned softly at the pressure. Then there was a knock at the door, startling you out of your momentary pleasure and reminding you that you were indeed in a public restroom.

“Oi, sunshine! Ya alrigh”?” Hobie. He just simply couldn’t let you have a moment of reprieve. Readjusting yourself in your pants so it's not so noticeable, you opened the door only to be met with Hobie leaning against the frame. He looked at you, questioning, before inviting himself right in. “Le’s talk.”

“Talk? You wanna talk?” You slammed the door shut and locked the door behind the two of you out of instinct. “We have nothing to talk about, Hobie. Absolutely nothing.” Your demeanor was cold, your lip curled. It all belied how much you needed him to stop looking at you that way. With heavy eyes and a touch of a smirk on his lips.

Hobie quirked a pierced brow at you. “Who’s playin’ dumb now? Ya tink I ‘aven’t noticed how you’ve been actin’? Yer meaner than usual.” He approached you. Slowly. He looked at you, watched to stand your ground. “God, yer down bad, aren’cha?”

Your face was hot, cock hard in your pants. You said not a word. Let him get close, really close, leaning into you while staring into your eyes.

“It's okay, though. I like ya mean.”

You grabbed him by the shirt, hands tight in the fabric as you turned him around and pushed him against the wall. “You think this is fucking funny, huh?” You shook him a little, pressed his thin body to the door, your eyes aflame with passion and anger. Hobie just looked at you, smiling, with his hands up as if to surrender to you, his eyes heavy with seduction.

You hated that look, so cocky and proud, fucking gorgeous.

You were rough when you kissed him. You knew you couldn't be trusted with yourself or with him. You knew it would all lead to this. And God if it didn't feel good. His lips were so soft, sweet, a little salty from his sweat. You held his shirt a little tighter, pulled him a little closer and his hands settled on your hips.

You let him slide his tongue into your mouth, let him slide his hands up and down the length of your body, slide beneath your shirt. His thumbs looked into your pants and tucked his knee between your legs to press against the growing bulge in your pants.

Just like that, he took control of you. You melted into him, licked into his mouth as you moaned, rutting yourself against his knee. You were desperate, panting, needy. You showed all your cards just as they were dealt and now you had nothing but an empty hand and a hard cock.

“I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout'cha.” Hobie panted into your mouth, hands pawing at you. Your kiss was sloppy, filled with swapped saliva and sticky tongue. “Missed ya. Looks like ya missed me too.” He chuckled softly as you licked his bottom lip, sighing with pleasure when he pressed his knee harder into you.

You should stop this. You should be stopping yourself. But you simply couldn't control yourself and you didn't know if that said more about you or about him. You were insatiable. You were angry. You were horny out of your mind.

Hobie let you suck on his lip and tongue, chuckling the whole time. It made you stop, your hands tightening up in his shirt. “Is something funny?” You pushed him against the wall harder, your body pressed against his, your aching cock against his knee. You tried to play tough, your face firming up, but Hobie already witnessed how desperately you've been wanting him this entire time.

Hobie sighed softly, looking at you, smiling broadly. “Nah, nah, ‘m laughin’ ‘cause ya definitely like me, sunshine. Just as much as I like you.” He leaned in, pressed his lips to yours, and kissed you softly. Lips latching, tongue licking, teeth nipping, you didn't resist him as much as you thought you would. You hadn't imagined for it to feel so good the second time around.

“Lemme help ya out, sunshine.” Hobie pressed his knee harder into your crotch and you crumbled, panting into his mouth with your eyes squeezed shut. One of your hands unballed itself from his shirt and found itself settled against the apple of his throat, pressing and squeezing while you humped his leg into oblivion.

The friction was delicious. The pressing and grinding with his tongue down your throat left you a little delirious. You were lightheaded and feared you might faint if he kept holding your waist like he was, moving your hips for you, pressing you harder.

“Keep goin’, pretty boy. Ya got i'.” Hobie crooned into your mouth as your lips fiended for another kiss, a lick, something, anything to satiate the burning in your chest, the fire all over. His fingers sunk into the meat of your thighs with his soft grip that meant to gently coax you towards your climax.

How embarrassing. To cum in your jeans just from humping a leg. But God, if this didn't feel good, if Hobie wasn't doing you so right. You pushed him harder against the wall, squeezed his throat a little tighter as you ground yourself into him.

Your free hand slid down his front and beneath his skirt to feel the bulge of his erection through his underwear. You weighed him in the palm of your hand, clumsy massaging and fondling. You didn't know how to handle him. Attempting to conjure up the way you touched him the last time you two felt each other, you rubbed him, felt the wet patch where precum leaked and soaked into the fabric of his underwear and stroked his tip.

Hobie shuddered, one that rattled through his entire body. He gripped you harder, bruising your hips and thighs and he drove you further into his knee and left you shivering. You squeezed him in your palm and he moaned.

It was pathetic how easy it was to forget how much you wanted to hate him. Your brain was foggy with pleasure and need. Your hands groped at each other with a fiendish desire. Hobie nipped at your bottom lip. “Fuck, jus’ like tha’.”

You were so close. Your lips broke apart from his with a string of saliva connecting the two of you. Your head felt back, exposing the supple flesh of your throat which Hobie greedily attacked with lips and teeth and tongue. “Gonna cum f’me? Hmm, sunshine? Go ‘head ‘n make a mess f’me.”

You whined, your body rocking back and forth with the waves of your orgasm. You hadn't cum in your pants since you were a teen and never before because of another man. You felt as though you should be humiliated but you were so wrapped up in Hobie's sweet scent and the way he moaned into your neck as you pressed your hand into him and felt his cock twitch in your hold.

You rubbed him harder, faster, determined to get him to come undone the way he had your world falling apart. Hobie chuckled against your throat. “Tryna get me t’cum, pretty boy?” His lips peppered kisses to your lovely throat. You nodded, your hand stroking his throat with your thumb. “Give it to me, please.” Oh how the mighty fall.

Hobie faltered a bit when you squeezed his balls in your hand, whining into you like a puppy. “Beg.” He sighed softly against your neck. “Beg fo i'.”

"Please, please. Shit, Hobie, give it to me " Overstimulated, his knee still pressed into the wet spot in your sticky jeans, your hips still rutting into the mess you’ve made of yourself, you jerked him off through his underwear, stroking it rapid, blundering twists of your wrist. Hobie liked how inexperienced you seemed, he found it amusing how hard you tried to please him.

You knew he was just on the edge of an orgasm by the way his moan lowered an octave. He sang for you like he sang on stage, your own private show. His hands gripped you with an impossible strength, tongue lavishing over your throat. He nosed at the curve of your jaw and moaned into your ear as he came in your hand, leaking out into the cotton of his underwear.

You were left panting, stroking at each other in tender touches. You were uncharacteristically affectionate, desperate for it. You needed his hands, his lips, his soft chuckles, his pretty smile. God, you were losing it.

“Fuck-” You pulled away from Hobie, your entire body coiling away from him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” It all came back to you like a tsunami. How did you let this happen? Again no less. What in the world were you thinking? What the hell has he done to you?

“Sunshine, calm down. It's okay.” Hobie reached out for you but you almost fell over trying to get away from him. Your hands gripped the sink for stability and in hopes to ground yourself in reality. “No, no, it’s not okay, Hobie! We need to stop this.”

“Whatever we have goin’ on between us-”

“There's nothing going on between us,” you insisted. “There should be nothing going on between us.” Hobie scoffed at you, crossing his arms over his chest. “Would’ja get ova y’self? We didn' make each other cum by accident. This keeps happenin’ fo’ a reason. We like each other.” He motioned between the two of you, his eyes softening.

“I can't do this, Hobie. I can't give you what you want.” You rushed past him and escaped out of the bathroom door before Hobie had a chance to catch you. It was a mistake to come out. You should have left the moment Hobie touched you.

It was just your luck to run into Riri on the way out the door. You bumped into her just as you neared the exit. She had whipped around, ready to let you have it until she saw that it was you and worse, when she saw the tears streaming down your face. As if this night couldn't get even more embarrassing.

You said nothing to her. You simply pushed past her and left the bar with her calling after you. Hobie approached behind her, watching you leave with sulken shoulders and smudged makeup.

“Shit.”

#across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman atsv #spiderman #hobie brown #spider punk #hobie brown x male!reader #hobie brown smut #hobie smut #spiderpunk x male!reader #spiderpunk smut #atsv smut

212 notes · View notes

fooled-around-and-fell · 9 months

Text

square one.

summary: when carmen left for new york, he also left you. now he's back, unannounced, and no matter how angry you are at him... there's a small part of you that wants to see him again.

pairing: carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings: angst. cursing.

Masterlist

-----

you and carmen used to learn how to draw together. you'd watch classes from outside the shop because none of you could afford the actual class, and mrs. kendra was kind enough to let you two kids join in for free. under the condition that you'd help clean up, of course, but that was worth it.

as you grew up it was harder to see each other when you're both so focused on your careers, and the fact that your schedules never matched didn't help either.

you still kept in touch by texting each other, carmen made sure you always sent him a picture of your breakfast, lunch, and dinner because somehow you always miss a meal. but that also eventually stopped because you'd forget to take a picture and he'd forget to reply.

in fact, carmen stopped replying altogether. he disappeared one day. when you finally went to the beef to look for carmen, mikey told you carmen had left for new york.

he didn't even say goodbye.

-----

years after that -- after mikey's funeral, after the beef shut down, after it reopened to the bear... you wonder if you should go find him again. sugar has always told you to come visit, but she knows it's not that easy.

you've always had feelings for him, and part of you knows that he definitely knows. it's so obvious.

so did he choose to ignore it? all those years, was he just pretending that he didn't know?

standing in front of the bear, it seems ridiculous now to look for him. what are you going to say anyway?

"hey carm, it's nice to see you again."

"hey carm, why did you leave?"

"fuck you carmen."

"carmen."

"carmen!" you hear sugar's voice shout his name from the backdoor. you immediately hide behind a wall. they're arguing about something, and you're not sure why you're not already leaving.

maybe because you want to hear his voice. after years. maybe.. maybe you miss him. just a little.

there's so many questions you want to ask, so many things you want to tell him, but you don't know where to start.

"i'll call him back later."

and then there it is. your breath hitches when you hear his voice, and the little girl inside you decide to peek your head out to see him.

has he changed? is his hair different? is he dressed different? does he have the same tired look in his eyes? is he smiling more often?

there's a sense of longing when you see that he kept his curls and still has his naturally built stature. you vividly remember how it feels to be in his arms.

maybe you've been staring too long, because carmen can sense a pair of eyes staring at him and has begun turning his head. you manage to turn away just in time.

that was close.

your heart is beating fast, and you curse yourself for feeling this way. the same way you feel when he scolded you for not eating properly and then fixing you a meal.

the same way you feel when he used to help you out with drawings because he's just so good at it.

the same way you feel when he's just staring at you with a small smile on his face.

they're all just memories now.

you sigh and push yourself off the wall, walking home because you're too scared to confront him.

another day.

-----

you own a small boutique not far from the bear. it's not that hard to miss, especially since you're pretty famous for making custom shirts, dresses, jackets, all that stuff. especially for richie.

"hey cubby!" richie calls out. cubby, or cub, is the nickname mikey had given you the moment you couldn't separate from carmen when you were kids. a bear cub.

you walk to the front and see richie with a new, bright white button down shirt. looks real nice. "how can i help you, richie?"

"got a new shirt for a hot date. think you can help me shorten the sleeves a little bit?" he asks.

"of course. need this by tonight?" you ask before his phone rings.

"yep, you have my measurements, right?" he winks before taking the call. "oh, can you also drop it off by the bear? thanks, you're a doll, bye!"

you can't even protest because richie is long gone. sighing, you started working on the piece of clothing. richie's doing it in purpose, of course, he saw you yesterday peeking around the corner and he had to do something.

richie's shirt didn't even take you an hour to fix. to be honest it didn't even need fixing, richie was just being dramatic and playing cupid.

it's 3pm, and you know that the bear is probably empty right now. you could go, drop the shirt off, grab a sandwich to go and just leave.

yeah.

you can totally do that. it's fast, easy, and you won't run into carmen. definitely won't.

"cousin!"

you clench your jaw once you're one step into the restaurant. for once carmen isn't in the kitchen, he's by the cashier writing something down for richie to remember later.

"honestly, why is he always gone when i need him-" carmen's mutters stop when he sees you frozen in place.

how should you play this?

feign innocence? pretend like you never knew he's back from new york? or get angry and tell him you're hurt? fuck, doesn't that sound so petty and childish?

silently taking a deep breath, you walk to the cashier and hand him richie's nicely folded shirt. "hey. give this to richie, will you? thanks."

"o-oh. sure."

you turn to leave.

is he going to stop you? call your name? maybe once you're outside. once you're a few steps away, he's gonna call you and tell you to wait. he should, right? he will, right?

you keep hoping he's going to care, even if that means just giving you a second glance while you're walking out, but there's nothing. you're already back in your boutique and you realize carmen didn't even bother to.. do anything, really.

he just doesn't care about you that way.

-----

why did you have richie's shirt?

are you with richie now? casually? something more serious?

why did you have his shirt?

are you happy with richie?

why are you with richie?

"carmen!"

"what?!" he turns his head to sugar who's frowning at him worriedly.

she takes the knife in his hands and put them away. "what the hell were you thinking about?"

carmen sees the blood on the cutting board and curses. "nothing."

"wasn't nothing if you didn't even realize you'd cut yourself."

carmen washes his cut finger and pats it gently with a cloth. sugar helps him bandage the cut. she looks at him and sees he's still in distress. "is this about cubby?"

"what?" carmen frowns, almost forgetting the nickname mikey gave you. "no."

"carmen."

"it's not."

"stop denying it."

he looks away. "...she was here today."

sugar's eyes widen in surprise. "really? what was she doing here?"

"came to return richie's shirt." he says, chest tight. "didn't know they're together."

sugar wants to punch richie right now. "they're not."

"i dunno, seemed that way."

"believe me, they're not." sugar sighs. "i know her."

carmen frowns. it sounded like sugar was trying to poke a certain topic. "and i don't?"

"carm," she deadpans. "you disappeared on her. you really think she can be all chirpy when she sees you like.. what, almost 7 years later?"

his turn to sigh. "no, yeah. you're-you're right. she deserves to be happy."

"yes, she does." sugar emphasizes. "so what are you gonna do about it?"

-----

today seems particularly longer than any other day. you're bringing home a few yards of fabric to finish a client's requested dress, and you know it's gonna be a long night.

you just closed the shop and are about to leave when you see carmen standing nearby, hands in his pocket, a cigarette between his lips. he takes another drag before putting it out when he sees you.

he's facing you now, and you're not sure what to do. or what he wants.

carmen sees your uncomfortable expression and curses at himself. maybe he shouldn't have done this after all. he can just leave- no. don't do that.

"aren't you going to say anything?" you ask, not looking at him.

carmen feels like he's being pushed into a corner and gulps. "i... i don't really know what to say..."

anger bubbles up inside you. "well then what the fuck are you doing here? if you're not here to explain how you-" you stop yourself from going further. you're not going to let him know that you've been thinking about him for all this time.

"forget it." you sigh and walk away.

"no, wait." carmen chases after you. "i just... fuck, i'm not good with words, okay? i don't know how to say it."

"yeah? maybe leave for another 7 years and see if you can figure that out."

carmen stays silent and that angers you even more. you smile bitterly, "you know what, let me make it easier for you this time."

"goodbye, carmen."

-----

part 2 is OUT

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #the bear #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy fluff #carmen berzatto angst #carmen angst #carmy angst #the bear angst #carmen berzatto x female reader #carmen berzatto x f! reader #carmen berzatto x fem!reader

813 notes · View notes

misc-obeyme · 7 months

Note

heyyy!!!! It's for the Kinktober list \o/

Solomon and breeding kink please babes ❤️

Drink water, sleep 8 hours and eat three healthy meals a day!!! Luvoo

Hey there, anon!

Okay I already had a prompt for Solomon for Kinktober when I got this ask, but I was like listen. Is it really a CC event if I don't get more requests for Solomon than any other character? So now I feel like it's just tradition.

Also I can't believe I didn't include Solomon's pact marks in the other kinktober post I wrote for him! I didn't even realize until I'd posted it and then I was like how is it that I didn't mention them at all?? I'm so into it, it's ridiculous and yet... anyway, this gave me the chance to include them so I feel that makes up for it a little bit. One of these days I'm gonna write a smut fic that's like... about those marks 'cause they just do something to me.

Anyway, I did afab reader so hopefully that's okay! I also feel the need to thank you for telling me to drink water and so on. Those are all things I almost never do lol. Sometimes I eat three meals a day, but are they healthy?? No. They aren't. Right, sorry for the ramblings lol.

Thank you for submitting a prompt!

KINKTOBER 2023

AFAB!MC x Solomon

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: breeding, penetration (reader receiving)

You were on the sofa in Cocytus Hall in the middle of a heavy make out session with Solomon when you pulled away. Solomon let out a breath at the loss of your lips, but he didn't say anything. You met his eyes, saw the desire in them and the question.

You reached down deliberately to put your hand on his erection. Solomon closed his eyes and tensed, trying not to react to the feeling of it.

"We haven't even been doing this that long and you're already hard," you said quietly.

Solomon took hold of your wrist and pulled your hand up. He leaned in, his lips against your ear. "I'm sorry, MC. I guess I'm just that eager to breed you."

A thrill ran down your spine and you shuddered in his arms. Your reaction caused him to laugh softly against your skin.

"Ah, I knew it," he said. "That's what you want, isn't it?"

You flushed, but you couldn't exactly disagree. "So what if it is?"

Solomon laughed again. "You're so cute, MC," he said. "But you don't have to hold back. If that's what you want, all you have to do is say it."

You huffed. You tried to look away from him, but the close proximity made it difficult. You considered refusing to say anything else, but your own arousal was creeping in now and you didn't think you would actually be able to resist him.

You switched tactics, turning into him. You pulled your wrist from his hand and tugged on his belt buckle. You pressed your lips to his neck and said, "I want you to breed me, Solomon."

Solomon pulled you up off the sofa, his hands already moving beneath the fabric of your clothes. He removed your shirt, kissing along your collarbones as you finally unbuckled his belt. Your pants went next, soon followed by his cloak and shirt, too.

You paused now that Solomon's bare chest was before you. You looked into his eyes for a moment. He waited to see what you would do.

You ran your fingertips over his pact marks. He stayed still as you did so, patiently watching you. It wasn't as though you hadn't seen them before, but most of the time it was easy to forget they were there, hidden beneath his clothes.

Solomon allowed you to be mesmerized by them for a few moments before he turned you around and pulled you against him. Your back nestled against his chest. He still had his pants on, but they were open enough to let his cock free and you could feel it pressed against you. Solomon's lips trailed down your neck, his fingertips trailing beneath the waistband of your underwear.

You felt your body heat up and found yourself filled with impatience. If you let him, Solomon would continue to tease you for some time before finally giving you what you wanted. So you decided to take matters into your own hands.

You removed your underwear yourself, adding it to the pile of clothes on the floor. Then you put your knees on the sofa, bracing yourself against the back of it.

You arched your back and said, "Hurry up, I can't wait anymore."

Solomon made a groaning sound behind you, but you couldn't see him anymore. It was only moments before you felt him behind you. He kissed down your spine while reaching around to stimulate your clit with his fingers. You pushed against them, letting out a small moan as you sought more of that feeling.

"Solomon, please," you begged.

As you had hoped, that was enough to make him finally push his cock inside you. You were wet and ready, taking it in easily and moaning at the way it felt.

Solomon didn't hold back now. He had one hand on your hip and one hand on your clit as he pounded into you. The angle allowed for deep penetration and you felt your body unraveling with each thrust. The sparks of pleasure ran through your veins, the tension building in your legs and your back, your muscles tightening.

The hand on your hip moved up to rest on your back as Solomon leaned forward further. "You're so ready for me," he said, his voice heavy and shaking with his own impending orgasm. "I'm going to fill you up."

You cried out incoherently as you came, his words sending you right over the edge. Solomon seemed to anticipate this, both hands moving to hold your hips steady as you clenched around him.

Just as he promised, you could feel his hot cum filling you up as he came, your name spilling sweetly from his lips.

From then on, you found it was a simple matter to get Solomon to breed you. As he had said himself, all you had to do was say it.

flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

taglist: @anxious-chick @t0tallycoolname @libidinous-weeb

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me smut #obey me kinktober #obey me solomon #om solomon #solomon obey me #obey me solomon smut #om solomon smut #obey me solomon x reader #om solomon x reader #solomon obey me x reader #misc kinktober 2023 #misc writes #misc naughty times

356 notes · View notes

harrystylesfan2686 · 5 months

Text

"Truth Or Dare?"

Pairing: Cassian x Reader

Summary: Another game night. Mor playing cupid.

A/N: thank you so much everyone who read and liked "Whould you rather...?". I love you all very much. This is kind of a second part to that but can be read as a standalone. I hope you fun reading this. 😁😏

Masterlist

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Another day, Another game night.

A whole month passed, and we still haven't gotten free of all the work. I guess rebuilding a whole continent takes time. Cassian's been spending time with Nesta quite a lot lately, giving her training sessions. Even though nothing is going on between them, I can see how they look at each other. Those secret glances and soft touches they give each other.

I hate to admit it but It makes me jealous.

When I told Mor about it, she gave me a confused look. Apparently nobody but me thinks that they have something going on.

So sitting right now, near Cass, I can't focus on anything. My mind constantly goes back to that slight smirk I saw Cassian give Nesta this morning. I push the thoughts away and try to listen to my friends playing.

Somehow, Cass convinced everyone to play truth and dare. He ignored everyone's whines and took out one of rhys's wine bottle that we'd finished. When we tried to talk him out of this game he forced us to sit in a circle, literally.

I sit with Cassian and Amren at either side of me. Azriel and Mor beside them, and Feyre and Rhysand in front of me.

Cassian spun the bottle and the game starts.

"Truth Or Dare?"

"Truth."

"What is the dumbest excuse have you used before to get out plans?"

"I said,"My cat is sick." To get out of a date, knowing very well My date knew I didn't have a cat." Mor laughs.

"Truth."

"What's the longest time you've ever gone without showering?"

"31 hours." Rhys thins his lips and nods. "You're supposed to say the truth." Cass comments. "I am" He narrows his eyes. "You're boring." Rhys rolls his eyes and my lips tug up as we move on.

"Dare."

"Drink a glass of water with 5 spoons of salt."

We all watch in awe when Amren it all with a straight face. No giving any reaction, she puts the glass down on the table and looks at her nails. "This was too easy." Mor quietly picks the glass and drinks the last drop of salt water from it, wincing immediately. "Do you not have taste buds?" Cass's widen eyes moves between her and the glass.

"Truth."

"What is one thing you would stand in line an hour for?"

"New paints." Feyre eyes lit up in excitement.

"Dare."

"Sit in someone's lap." Cassian smirks thinking that'll bother me.

"Mor!" I plop myself on her lap, both of us laughing hysterically as her arms wrap around my stomach. Cassian frowns. He rolls his eyes, huffing and spins the bottle.

"Truth."

"Which was your most embarrassing date?"

"There was this male, Loren or something, we were on a date at this club he told me to meet in. I go there and we have a good time but halfway through the date, this women comes up to him and slaps him with all her might! I'm standing there like," Mor impersonates with brows up, lips rolled in her mouth and continues,"turns out she was his wife." We gasp dramatically and she nods.

"Dare."

"Take off your cloths and dance around in you underwear."

"Oh darling, if you wanted to see me naked you should've just asked." Rhys smirks at cassian and completes his dare.

"Dare."

"Cassian, since you didn't answer your question last time," there it is, that glint in Mor's eyes that indicates choas. "I dare you to kiss Y/N." She grins.

Utter silence. My eyes widen and snap to Mor in shock. Everyone looks at Cassian to see his reaction.

"Oh come on! That's ridiculous!" He throws up his hands. "Uh-uh. Remember the rules, Cassie." Mor teases. I look at cassian silently cursing her for putting us in this situation. I see a bit pink in cassian's cheeks and my eyebrows go up.

Is Cassian blushing?

"F-fine." The slight hitch is his voice does not go unnoticed. He turns to me and my breath grows.

"Can I-," He clears his throat,"Can I kiss you?" He asks in low voice. He wants to make sure I'm alright. The realisation makes blood rush to my cheeks. I silently nod, not trusting my voice.

He leans closer, my eyes constantly switch between his eyes and lips. He stops just before my lips, giving me time to back off. I don't.

His lips touch mine.

I stop breathing.

Our lips rest against each other and my eyes close. His lips surprising soft.

His sighs against me. My mind clears out everything except how well how good it feels to kiss him.

I don't want this to end.

But it ends anyway.

He pulls back and looks into my eyes. I search his, waiting for the regret to come but all I see is awe in them. It makes my stomach flutter. I struggle to breath.

Someone claps. We snap out of whatever trance we seem to be in. I suddenly remember we aren't alone and my face heats. I clear my throat and look down because I can't look at anyone right now.

I just kissed Cassian. In front of everyone.

-☆-

My rest of the night is spent in a haze. I can't stop thinking about the kiss we had. I don't care that it was dare and that too of only 5 seconds.

When the game finally ends and we start to descend to rooms, as we wish each other good night, Mor gives me a sly smirk and a wink. My blush doesn't leave my face the whole night.

Cassian walks up to me and I take a deep breath preparing myself to get heartbroken. "Are you OK?" His question catches me off guard.

"Uh-yes. Why?" I stammer.

"Just wanted to make sure you weren't uncomfortable about before." His gaze dips to my mouth for a second before coming back to my eyes.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm not." My faces flushes under his heated gaze.

He opens his mouth but closes immediately, swallowing back whatever he wanted to say.

"Let me walk you to your room?" He finally asks.

"Of course." I smile.

We start to my room, walking beside each other. Not saying anything and just enjoying our company. His hand brushes mine. I prey silently for him to take it in his. He doesn't.

I feel slightly disappointed when we reach my room. I open my door and turn to him.

"This is it, I guess. Good night." I look up at him.

His hand rises and tuck my hair behind my ear. I struggle to breath for the second time tonight. His fingers graze my face, from my cheek to jaw and moving back to his side. "Good night."

I go into my room and close to door, fearing if I stay out too long, I might do something crazy like kiss him again. I lean back against my door and try to even out my breath. My eyes close and head falls, thinking about the events happened tonight. I wait for the sound footsteps moving away, signaling his leave. I don't hear them.

I stand up straight and try to listen more properly but can't hear anything for some reason. I quietly open the door again to find him still standing there. Breathing heavy with heated eyes.

We take out each other in and our eyes meet, both filled with desire.

"Fuck it." He slams his lips to mine.

The force sends me almost falling back but he catches me, wrapping an arm around my waist and the other behind my face. He walks us both into the room. My hand grips his hair and the other on the door, slaming in shut.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

#acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #acotar fluff #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #cass x reader #cassian #cassian x reader #cassian fluff #cassian fanfic #inner circle #inner circle x reader

205 notes · View notes

rusmii · 3 months

Text

⌞ઇଓ⌝ ─── 𝓭𝓮𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓪𝓬𝓮 .ᐟ

when an artist from russia is hired to paint the portrait of the first daughter of [Surname], how will their relationship pan out as they start to get to know each other?

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬. painter!fyodor x fem!reader, fluff, reader is a rich girl, fyodor is a foreigner, founding father language, fyodor character exploration, renaissance au.. I think

𝐩𝐬. haihai special early valentines gift for @aureatchi <3 luv ya revrev. NOT edited/proofread. was supposed to be longer, but I got tired and cut it💔

wc: 1.4k

“From where?” A question sprung from her chest.

“From Rus’, my lady,” the butler of [Surname] answers for him. Though her outward expression told him enough, Fyodor took this initiative to smile in respect.

“Yes, sir is correct — I am indeed from Rus’. Nice to meet the fair lady of [Surname].”

In quick addition, Fyodor bows slightly as he takes your hand into his. The gentle kiss placed on top of your white laced gloves still didn't seem to sway your opinion on him, however. How unfortunate.

After acknowledging his confirmation, Fyodor is swept away by the butler as you were with the maidens of the mansion.

Outside of the mansion was absolutely breathtaking. Circling around the fountain and to the main entrance of the tea house, Fyodor admires the new freshness of warm spring flowers.

Akin to that of his homeland, the flowers here in your country serve to be much more beautiful — as beautifully breathtaking as you are.

No third party opinion can convince him otherwise, that's for sure.

But for now, Fyodor must focus on his main job at hand; to draw a portrait of you.

It wasn't a hard job, per say. No, it was very much easy if he said so himself. But what really composed the challenge was the subject of fine details.

When an artist paints, you can easily follow along the very first few blobs of wet paint — the muse being satisfied from just a few pecks of fine strokes and a little bit of color here and there to liven up the look.

But those large specks of blobs soon turn into smaller little blotches of paint that are scattered everywhere on the canvas the higher the muse is willing to pay.

A very fine example of that would be you. A very demanding lady who expects the finest of quality works to be subjected to you when you're the main attraction.

While some had something to say about your ridiculous demands, Fyodor liked to say the opposite.

Because in his eyes, what other artists lacked was the fundamentals of the person doing the art.

It wasn't just confident brush strokes or the signature style of a person's canvas.

No, it was patience.

What others lacked was what he had acquired since birth.

And to him, that was exactly why many artists weren't able to meet your expectations. Why you were so disappointed when you first saw the finished product of your portrait.

Every single pretty piece of you just wasn't you. It was of another girl sitting in your place with the more descriptive details of your face.

In short, he thinks every self-proclaimed artist in your kingdom should rot for even daring to pick up the brush.

Ugly, so ugly that it had become ridiculous. Every pass by on the street, did Fyodor run into these cheap street artists that did nothing but sketch the outline of your body and called it a day.

Every corner turned was a portrait shop in the periphery of his vision. Even then, the finished product looked absolutely hideous.

He now saw why he was desperately called upon from your maidens despite his absent leave.

If he was judgested from the displays of art this kingdom had to offer, then he could guess how horrible you were feeling when you found out that the arts were just disrespected inside the premise of this land.

“We've arrived. Please do try not to fight with each other.” Announcing the arrival of his company, Fyodor bows, and thanks the butler for escorting him. “Thank you for going out of your way to escort me here, sir.”

A smile made its way on the butler's face. ‘Seems as if he's not used to these praisments,’ Fyodor thinks before waving the butler off from sight.

Now that he was alone, he set his eyes on the double wooden door. Its gorgeous carved craft made him question why the artists just weren't up to par as other vapa professions in the area.

“Lovely for you to join me today, Dostoevsky,” the clink of your teacup very well matched your outfit. Seemed as if you were the stylish type.

Not that he minded. In fact, he very much appreciated you being the second most beautifully fitted piece he's laid his eyes on since stepping foot into this kingdom.

“Not at all, my lady,” Fyodor sips his tea, the plaid smile resting comfortably on his face. “Hm.. If I had known how polite you'd be, I'd very much have approached you with a far pleasant attitude.” Ah. Apology accepted, Miss [Surname].

“No, no. I do not condemn you for your misuse of tone towards me. I, too, would have been irritated had I known that the artists of the kingdom I was residing in were.. erm..” How should he put it without offending your nationalism pride?

“Horrid?” You finished the word for him. “Yes, horrid,” his smile grows as a response to you. A mutual smile following the lines of your face as well. Fyodor sets his cup aside, walking over to the art set, sitting next to the beautifully lined vines.

He inspects the canvas and quality paints rowed out into columns. “Do you guys usually have sets out sitting like this?” He asks.

“Just for the occasion.”

“Ah.”

For a few more seconds, Fyodor takes his time to admire the smooth wooden palette. Its edges looked as if it fit a comfortable vice and didn't retain any splinters.

He notices your eyes on him. Indirectly, the light of the teahouse mirrors his reflection.

Turning his attention back to you, Fyodor decides to muse you on your questions. “Care to chat about your questions, my lady?”

His perception almost caught you off guard. Almost.

Coughing up the air from your throat, you sit upright to fix your posture and re-cross your legs to sit in a mannered form while Fyodor sits timely across from you.

“Well, to start off…” Pausing to take a sip of your tea for dramatic effects, Fyodor waits patiently for your first question. “Why did you accept the offer to paint my portrait when you were on absence?”

Without skipping a beat, Fyodor responds with a quick that's a bit personal.

Which led to you choking up on your strings and having him lead the conversation.

Fyodor stirs his spoon inside the teacup. The sugar cube melting away from the light waved of bitterness.

The silence that was started by him now was broken by him. “How did you arrive at the teahouse so early, before me?” A simple question, but still something nonetheless.

“I had taken the short route whilst as I had him give you the scenic view the kingdom could not offer you." A somewhat apology from you on the behalf of the people. An empathic gesture that was not needed from you.

“I see…” Fyodor let out a short witted answer. His interest in this conversation dwindled as fast as the kingdom's normal artisan.

His faded expressions sent bells to your head. The commoners bore all too familiar with you.

Trying to find another topic that'll get him to stay, Fyodor abruptly stands up from his seat and stalks over to the set.

His never ending fixation.

“Get up and sit here. Bring your chair too,” he suddenly orders you — his demeanor all too serious from who you were just talking to a second ago.

“Agh. Blasphemous,” he hears you mutter your breath, but chose not to confront you on anything as you were complying with his demands.

“Sit, sit.” He ushers you into a spot under the direct sunlight where it shines the brightest.

You cross your arms, “Don't tell me what to do in my own teahouse.”

Ignoring your words, he grabs a hold of the paint brush lying in the tray. “Chin up, head straight. Posture fixed and don't move.”

Distraught with complaints, your expression sours as you zip your lips to refrain from spouting any irrationally nonsense.

“Loosen up your face,” he says, dipping the brush into the water as he picks up a nearby pencil to measure your outline.

You huff, “Why?”

His soft smile still adorned his face, “To capture your beauty in my memory.”

Memory? Dostoevsky wants to remember your beauty forever?

While thoughts skyrocket out of your head, Fyodor takes this opportunity to start sketching your aloof expression.

The graphite from his pencil marks every curve, dent, mark, and bump of your face to a t. Every color that his brush paints over color matches you perfectly.

Even if he couldn't deny your beauty, you were still a snot nosed brat who longed for praise and compliments at the end of the day.

Still, despite your huffing and puffing — he found you the prettiest when he could stare at your relaxed face.

hi first fyodor fluff fic🫣

taglist (comment on this post to be tagged in future works!): @luvan1 @bfdazai @asqmi @squigglewigglewoo @liviash @doonifox @ishqani @xxcandlelightxx

belongs to @rusmii 2024, don't steal >:((

#[ৎ୭ 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠]#hi hello #im vv tired #and sleepy #and tired #fyodor x reader #fyodor dodostoevsky x reader #fyodor x you #fyodor x y/n #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bungou stray dogs x you #bungou stray dogs x y/n

129 notes · View notes

h7vn · 7 months

Text

Imma give you my love

Word Count: 1,401

Pair: Simon “Ghost” Riley x FAB!reader

CW: Shower Sex, insecurities, slight mentions of cheating, Body worship, Masturbation, and Praise.

Summary: Ghost goes out for days at a time for his job while you stay at home missing his touch, on the day he comes back you decide to clean around for him and take a quick shower—When what you needed most had arrived at the perfect time.

A/N: Hii guys! Thank you for all the likes and love I got on my last post. As an appreciation gift for y’all I decided to give y’all a bit more, hope you enjoy! Mwah Mwah. 💋

Being in a relationship with Ghost was nothing easy with his job. That being said you live your life day by day constantly wondering about him; if he was okay, what he was doing, who he was with, simple things like this that kept you on your toes for whenever he came back home.

Many more things lingered in your mind other than those “simple” questions as soon as you laid your head on your pillow of your shared bed, the question of who he was with right now at this time of night and what he was doing made you spiral into this dark abyss of your mind.

What if he had found someone prettier? What if he’s cheating while he’s out? What if he’s lying? Does he even wanna be with you? Does he like when he’s away from home?

Of course Ghost wouldn’t do that but Who knows? because you’ll never ask him, you don’t want him to worry about you so you keep your mouth shut. Whenever he comes home he always figures if something was wrong, giving you the best reassurance possible.

Knowing that Ghost was coming home today you decided to clean around a bit, make the house look nice before he came. You spent about two hours cleaning the house before tiredly throwing yourself on the couch, figured you’d take a quick nap before cooking dinner for you and Ghost before he gets home.

One..

Two..

Three..

Four..

Four hours went by as you slept peacefully on the couch before you woke up, still a bit groggy from the sleep you begin to stretch and rub your eyes as you grab your phone to check the time. It was still quite early, 2:27pm to be exact.

You figured you had more than enough time to prepare yourself before cooking dinner, quickly getting the idea to shower. You had grabbed a towel before making your way to the bathroom, stripping away your clothes as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

Admiring your body from your thighs up, running your hands up and down your curves as you turned to the side and studied yourself from a different angle. Smiling softly to yourself as you were happy with your body, questioning why you even thought Ghost would cheat on someone like you in the first place, chuckling softly at the ridiculous thought.

Speaking of Ghost, you missed his touch. The way he’d trace his fingers up and down your curves, caressing and kissing anywhere he could. Appreciating every inch of you, the thought of that alone made you wet. You quickly turned on the shower faucet to a high temperature, hopping in the shower and sighing in satisfaction.

You wanted Ghost so much.

You took a second to really feel the water, each hot individual drop from the faucet to your skin felt amazing. Any stress immediately melting away. The thought of Ghost caressing and touching your body then invaded your calm mind, making your mind as hazy with lust as the bathroom with the steam.

Your hand running down slowly from your chest, to your stomach, to your clit. Rubbing in slow and soft circles as your free hand had been reaching up to your nipples and tugging at them. Soft whimpers and moans elicited from your soft lips as you inserted a finger inside your sopping wet pussy, the heat from the water only added to your pleasure.

Your head was too clouded with lust that you didn’t hear nor see anyone else around until you felt someone wrap their arms around your torso from behind and kiss your neck softly, you gasped and opened your eyes to be greeted with ghosts muscular and tattooed arm. You smile almost immediately as you felt his cock slowly rise on your lower back, taking your hand away from your clit before stroking his cock slowly.

A deep groan was heard almost immediately as you touched him, rubbing the tip with your thumb. You had turned around to be met with his handsome face, you wanted to kiss him so bad, and that’s exactly what you did. A passionate slow kiss as you continued to stroke him, tightening your hand around his cock slightly while he moaned into your mouth.

The way his body reacted to you so desperately proved he missed you just as much as you did him, soon he began thrusting into your hand that could almost barely even wrap around his cock. You pulled away from his kiss with a wide smile on your face, it quickly turned into an expression of pleasure as he began to rub your clit softly.

“Missed you, Si. Feels like it-it’s been forever.” You managed to moan out though you stumbled over your words, it managed to make him smile. Seeing how much you missed him while he was away for days at a time made his heart swell. “I missed you more, love. Why don’t you turn so I can show you how much I missed my sweet girl.”

Ghost said in that sweet tone he usually used with you, a small chuckle leaving his lips while he watched you waste no time in turning around for him. You were now leaning against the shower wall, wincing as your nipples hardening at the cold surface.

“Please, Si.. need you so bad..” You begged softly, feeling that leaking tip of his rub up and down your slit before entering in one harsh thrust. You let out a slightly pained moan at the stretch, being that Ghost wasn’t around much, you also haven’t made love in a while.

“Shit, love. You’re so tight around me.” Ghost choked out with a moan before grabbing your hips and moving slowly, letting you get used to the thickness of his cock a bit before speeding up the pace a bit.

It all so euphoric to Ghost, he hasn’t seen you in more than a week. He missed you, the way you reacted to his presence made him weak inside. The way you smiled whenever he was brought up, your eyes, your face, your neck, all the way down to your toes, he’s missed all of it. Every. Single. Thing. And most importantly you, he missed your personality. Everything about you specifically made him feel lucky, lucky a guy like him could be with a woman like you.

He was sick of jerking off in the shitty bathrooms to the thought of you, finally getting the real thing felt surreal to him. The way you clenched around him and your sweet voice sounded every time he thrusted in and out of you, proud he can make such a gorgeous girl feel so good. Touching you in every place he could see, making sure not one place is left untouched and uncared for.

Picking up his thrusts once again he began to breath a bit heavier, the steam and heat of the water was not helping when it came to breathing but he’d risk it all just for one more moment in with you. Hearing your mindless moans of “Si,Si,Si-“ over and over again will never be tiring to him as he started to toy with your clit, matter of fact he even put his head in the crevice between your neck and shoulder just so he could hear them louder.

“C-um for me, love.” You heard his small groans and harsh breaths right in your ear, getting closer and closer to your climax. “Si, I-I’m gon- ahh!” You cut yourself off with your own moan before throbbing around him as you came, though he didn’t stop there, not till he came.

He kept his quick pace as you came down from your high, riding it out until the very last second. Soon babbles of “S’too much” could be heard coming from your mouth in such a cute and whiny tone that Ghost couldn’t help but reassure you the second he heard. “You can take it.” “C’mon baby, be a good girl and take it like you did before.”

The praise only adding to the overstimulation, though you were in a very tough but amazing position, you started to tease back a bit. Throwing your ass back on him made his orgasm almost immediate, letting out an intense—almost high pitched moan as he emptied his balls into you.

“Fuck, love.. missed you.” The best thing to describe your relationship with Simon was body worship, going both ways.

209 notes · View notes

ronsenthal · 6 months

Text

Ron Speirs x Female!Reader

Summary: After you helped Dick Winters and Lewis Nixon the word spread and soon enough this captain would come to your office too.

A/N: First of all, I would like to apologize, this is my first time writing something, I’m pretty nervous and english is not my first language, I’ll just try my best. I had this idea after listening to Blank Space (Taylor’s version) on repeat and also looking for some Speirs info and found out his ridiculously pretty handwriting???? and then I realized that he is so Taylor coded and this came to my mind.

so this one goes out to my fellow BoB lovers who are also Swifties!! Hope y’all enjoy it and if you could leave some feedback I would very much appreciate it.

If only you knew that taking typing classes would lead you to live this life from city to city, seeing horrors, tragedy and pain, feeling cold, hopeless and tired beyond anything you could imagine or explain you would have had second thoughts. But then again, every smile from your friends, every stupid joke they would tell just to lighten the mood, every cup of “coffee” you would share would make it more bearable. “Yes, it was worth it” you told yourself countless nights before falling asleep and dreaming of hope it would all end, if not soon, at some point.

“Yes, it was worth it” you told yourself after one night that you had too many drinks with Nix, you wish you could tell the same about Dick, but he would never allow himself to do so, but he also enjoyed the night out with his friends. It was only natural that you would end up following those two, after all, with some luck you ended up being assigned to help out Dick with the mess he was making at his office duties. After some time and after figuring out how to understand the man it became really enjoyable.

Those nights that they would tell their stories for you to organize it down in a report for your superiors were as fun as they could be, given the circumstances.

Nix wouldn’t even bother to try to write his reports once he discovered how fast you could type and how concise you would turn Dick’s endless essays into comprehensive, yet detailed reports, soon enough you were helping both of your COs, your friends.

“(Y/N) I believe you have this weird super power, are you sure you are human?” Nix said after half a bottle of Vat-69, raising his eyebrows as if he was looking at you with this invisible magnifying glass.

Dick only shook his head in disbelief. Sometimes you thought that they looked like one of those old married couples, knowing each other's quirks and peeves and yet somehow, finding it all amusing. You wondered if you could find someone like this in this God forsaken world you were living.

One day you found it, but thinking back it wasn't easy at first and as it took some time to even lower your guard on your own brain, and allow yourself to think about it, about HIM.

Ronald Speirs had quite a reputation, everybody knew the rumors, every man saw the things he so recklessly did on the field. His men were as afraid as the enemy, so it took you by surprise when after Foy he also started to hang out with you, Dick and Nix. The first time there was silence on the table after he arrived, you didn’t even had the chance to introduce yourself politely as Dick started out his endless questions about how the Easy men were doing, and then Nix introduced some drinks, yet you two never exchanged one word to each other before that day.

After a while his presence started to make you feel a little bit comfortable, especially after Dick assured you that he was a good man, a good leader and being a big brother figure, he wouldn’t let Speirs offer you a cigarette. Since then you could catch a glimpse at how his eyes shone even in the dark, how he looked tired after an operation. He wasn’t scary anymore, he was just another officer that from time to time would hang out with your friends.

After some time you started to get used to his presence around chasing Dick and Nix up and down, something you did yourself as they were like big brothers to you, protecting, giving their piece of advice and taking care of you. Soon enough you started to feel more comfortable around Speirs too, once you even called him Ronald after a couple of drinks.

Then one afternoon it took you by surprise when he knocked at your office, looking tired as hell with a pile of files on one hand, a pair of boots in the other one and a half burnt cigarette hanging on his lips.

“Sorry to disturb you (Y/L/N), but Nixon said you could help me out with this paperwork? I’ll be in real trouble if I don’t turn them in this evening. Also, he said you could use this one” Speirs told you while putting a tiny pair of combat boots on your desk and taking of his cap, not even giving you time to reply, not even looking at you.

“What in the name of god are you thinking? What the hell is Lewis thinking? You guys think I don’t have anything better to do, I have enough work to do, just look at this endless pile of work, so no, thank you, good luck” you said throwing your arms in exasperation, complaining and pointing out the huge paper files on your desk.

He stared at you in horror as if you were one of those german panzers, he opened and closed his mouth, trying to find the words but he couldn’t. You felt a twist in your stomach, looking at him you could see he was embarrassed, you never saw him so vulnerable and tired, this man could use some proper sleep. As he was turning on his heels to leave while muttering sorry a thousand times, guilt took the best of you.

“Wait” you said, closing your eyes knowing right after the word left your mouth how stupid it would be, after all you could use some sleep too, you deserved it. He slowly turned to face you.

“I’ll do it, but you better help me out and you are not allowed to smoke while we do that, I hate the smell”

You could swear you saw an amused smile on his face when he threw his last pack of Luckys on your desk. Soon enough you prepared your typewriter checking if you had enough ribbon and paper for your work, finally you sat down and stared at the man in front of you, it took him a few seconds to realize you were ready to start.

At some point he took his jacket off and slowly put it on the chair he was sitting on, took of his tie and rolled up his sleeves, you tried not to stare at the man in front of you. If he caught you looking up and down he never said a word. It was not the first time you stared at this much feared man, truth be told you caught yourself staring at him more than once. Nix being the observant little bitch he was had this creepy little smile when he caught you one night looking at the Easy captain. You muttered something like “I’m gonna kill you” and prayed to god that he could send the biggest crate of whisky he could find so Lewis would get so drunk he would forget it.

You cleaned your throat, took a deep breath and asked for a small pause to take a glass of water. The man nodded and took a few steps to the little window and watched the landscape outside until you said you were finally ready again. “Back to work” you said to yourself.

…..

When you two finished the sun was no longer up, just in time for him to turn on the report. While working on he would tap his fingers on your desk and look nervously at the watch on his wrist, but he never complained or tried to hurry you up. He quickly looked at the papers you cautiously handed him and shook his head, approving the final result.

“So that’s it?” he asked you, his voice soft and quiet.

“Yes that’s it, just write your name over here and we’re done” you said pointing at the blank space you left over his name at the end of the paper.

He asked if you could borrow a pen for him to use and said a few “thanks” while signing the paper before leaving your office and storming out in the direction of the HQ, he never returned your pen but you didn’t even mind.

Then after composing yourself by stretching your back and taking a sip of your already cold coffee you decided to head down to the closest pub you could find, but firstly you changed your boots. Nix was right as you could use some new ones, but since you were so small compared to the rest of the guys it was nearly impossible to find some fitting boots, yet Speirs somehow got his hand in a pair just of the right size.

When you finally arrived at the bar your eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the lighting of the room, you then scanned the tables looking for Nix and Dick. When you recognized the friendly faces you started to move towards them, but then you felt a tap on your shoulders and turned to see who it was.

“Hey excuse me Y/L/N, Captain Speirs asked me to hand you this” It was Lieutenant Lipton holding an envelope in his hand, like it was a classified piece of information that could change the war. This man took his duties very seriously, you thought to yourself as you took the envelope and put it in your pocket.

“Thank you Lieutenant” you said smiling at the officer in front of you, who smiled back and took his leave joining his men at the other table.

You then walked to the barman and asked for a beer, when you were reaching into your pocket to find some money to pay the man he shook his head and his hands as if trying to say no, he paused a few seconds trying to remember the words in your language and explained the best way he could that someone had taken care of it, offered you some food, the most glorious, golden fried potatoes you’ve ever saw in your life.

As you walked down to the table holding your plate the Easy men stared at you as if you were a goddess walking on water or something, then started to shout at the barman asking for the same food. Dick and Nix exchanged a funny look between each other and Nix tried to take some of your fries before you slapped his hand.

When you tried the first one you closed your eyes, it hit you like a full speed train crashing into a wall, so many emotions one after another, after months of terrible stinky food there was this little piece of heaven. You took a big gulp of the beer in front of you, and then someone put another pint in front of you, and then another one, and another one. You could swear it was the best feeling in quite some time, the men shouting and laughing all around you telling tales and jokes about Toccoa Camp, Sobel or Dike or some officer they hated, Nixon pestering Dick about something, all the stuff, all at once you almost forgot the place you were, what you were fighting for.

Forgot…..

Then you remembered the note that Speirs left you and you suddenly felt a rush that almost made you fall off your chair. You don’t know if it was the fourth (or fifth?) beer you had but you felt your hands trembling as you opened the envelope. Inside there was this carefully folded paper, you stared at it for some time before gathering the courage to open it, just to find this beautiful handwriting, you didn’t expect to come from the toughest son of a bitch in the entire army.

“Dearest (Y/N),

Thank you so much for your help today. I will never forget it and I will find a way to repay you somehow. One night you said that as a kid you used to eat french fries when you were feeling down, so I took the liberty to ask Matthijs the barman to do something special for you.

I hope it brings you a piece of home! Enjoy whatever you want, he is going to put on my account and don’t even try to argue with him or me about it”

Sincerely yours.

Capt. Ronald Speirs.

“P.S: I have some more paperwork due to the next week, I hope you don’t mind”

You smiled to yourself as you read it again and again, every time your heart would jump when you stopped at the YOU, your name written, your brain froze right there as if it could take a picture just by staring. You didn’t mind that he would eventually bring more work, because somehow he managed to do so, he brought you home.

You were tired, drunk and your head was spinning a little but if someone ever asked you then yes: it was worth it.

#band of brothers fanfic #ronald speirs #ron speirs #ronald speirs x reader #ronald speirs fanfic #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #hbo war #hbo war fanfic #mw*#mf*

125 notes · View notes