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bunniekittiee · 6 months

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Hi! Hi! Sorry for asking, mind if I ask if you are open request for the hc or fic? Since I have a brilliant idea, about Bi-han and bi-han s/o.

"They fell first, they fell harder but he never fell. He fell too late until he realized he's late for apologize."

I’ll answer this in headcanons and a little drabble just because I’ve been cranking out fics like crazy so I need something else to switch it up. This is kind of long ngl but I couldn't help it. Might have some spelling errors.

Reader gets referred to as a woman and such, so fem. reader.

Bi-Han x Reader; Raiden x Reader

If you are married to Bi-Han for your clans sake, he sees your marriage as a business ordeal.

To him, he is not romantically interested because he only married you for clan purposes. He does not love you.

That is the sad truth and truly it bothers you.

A marriage was supposed to be based around love and support, not business.

However Bi-Han saw it differently.

There is not many interactions between you two. He stays away and you stay out of his way.

You eat dinner together but there is not much conversation. Sometimes he will talk about certain events, but he will never really ask about your day.

If he does, he is just curious to know what you have done while he’s been tending to his duties.

There is nothing special about the bed time routine.

He will stay on his side of the bed and sleep with his back turned to you.

The nights can feel really lonely and make you really sad.

Sometimes he will lower the temperature of the bed so it doesn’t get too hot.

To keep you somewhat comfortable.

But what you truly crave is the touch of the man you married.

Although Bi-Han is standoffish and not exactly the most welcoming, you have still fallen in love with him.

Every imperfection of Bi-Han is just an extra part of him to love.

He sees it in your eyes when he catches your gaze, and honestly it strokes his big ass ego that you are in love with him.

He cannot say the same for you, though. :(

You like to do special things for him to get his attention and appreciation.

Such as cooking his favorite meals, preparing his uniforms, even going as far as stitching together his ruined ones.

He appreciates it, he may not exactly show it but he does, however he feels that you are simply doing this to make him love you.

So it can kind of annoy him.

You try to show him some sorts of affection, but Bi-Han will only really allow kisses. He will reject hugs often.

It hurts but at least you can still show him some affection.

Kuai Liang and Tomas both see how much you love Bi-Han, but they see that look in their brother’s eyes.

Void of any infatuation of you, let alone romance.

They will comfort you when you feel unloved and uncared for.

Tomas wishes the circumstances were different for you, but he tells you that maybe one day Bi-Han will realize that he does love you.

Kuai Liang shoots him a look that says ‘don’t give her hope’.

They don’t want you to be hurt or to hold onto Bi-Han in hopes of him returning the same feelings.

Kuai Liang and Tomas took you out to eat dinner at Madame Bo's which is where you met some of their friends. It was Johnny, Raiden, Kung Lao, and Kenshi.

They were interested in you as you were a new face, and Kuai Liang introduced you as the Grandmaster's wife. Johnny thinks that you are too stunning for grouchy old Bi-Han.

"You are married to Bi-Han?" Johnny asks in almost complete shock. "I didn't even know he was married. How did he get so lucky with a pretty woman like you?"

Blushing at his words, you just smile. Kung Lao rolls his eyes. "Stop flirting with the Grandmaster's wife, otherwise your head will end up on a ice pick."

"It will all be worth it in the end." Johnny replies with a small wink at you. Kenshi chuckles quietly.

Kuai Liang notices how Raiden looks at you, his mouth slightly agape at your beautiful form. He thinks it is a little funny but also sweet. He almost wished Bi-Han would do the same for you. He sees Raiden's eyes travel down to take you in completely, wearing blue and black to match Bi-Han's uniforms. Matching with Bi-Han who hardly ever took you out.

Tomas is a little oblivious to it, he doesn't see it at first until Kuai Liang points it out. You and Raiden strike up a conversation, and the Thunder God is fumbling over his words. He has a serious blush on his cheeks, and Kung Lao almost feels bad for the inexperienced Raiden. You, however, think it's very cute. You relish in the attention he gives you because Bi-Han hardly ever paid any mind to you. It makes you feel good, it makes you feel wanted.

There is some guilt that gnaws at you though. Almost as if you are doing something bad behind Bi-Han's back, but his siblings were sitting a couple feet away from you, so it wasn't bad right? By the end of the night, Raiden has fallen head over heels for your kind, compassionate personality. Just like Johnny, he wondered what Bi-Han did to deserve such a sweetheart like you. He feels disappointed when it is time for you to leave with the brothers. The moment you leave, everyone is grilling him.

"You made it super obvious that you are interested, Raiden." Kenshi states humorously. "I could hear your heart race from here."

Raiden internally groans. "Was it really that obvious?"

"Totally Thunder Lad. But she was enjoying the attention." Johnny grinned mischeviously. "I don't think Bi-Han is exactly taking care of her."

"It's Bi-Han, he probably treats his wife like she's a warrior." Kung Lao said as he took a sip of his tea.

You are on Raiden's mind at every possible moment after he first meets you. He seriously could not wait to see you again even though he felt like it was wrong. You were married to another man, but you were too good for him.

Kuai Liang and Tomas discuss that night in their chambers about how Raiden was acting.

They honestly think it was cute to see you both interacting with each other. they thought of puppy love when they saw you together.

But they knew it was good to be wary because of Bi-Han. He may not have loved you, but you were still his wife.

Bi-Han asks you how your night was with his brothers. He sees that dazed look in your eyes and wonders what happened.

You just tell him you met their friends. Bi-Han just nods his head and tells you that he is glad that you had a good time. But he is wondering why you seem much more giddier.

It feels so wrong, but you continue to think about Raiden. When you make dinners for Bi-Han or do little tasks, you pretend that you are doing them for Raiden.

To get the look of approval and love that Bi-Han never shared with you.

Kuai and Tomas wonder if it is better to have you separate from Bi-Han. Although the word of divorce would not be a good look, it is better than possibly committing adultery.

Then they wonder if Bi-Han will willingly let you go.

They try to bring it up to him in different ways and Bi-Han never really catches on.

Until one day, Kuai Liang brings it up outright and Bi-Han is a little taken aback.

But Bi-Han thinks about it. Although he shared a life with you, you were not exactly in it.

Impulsively, he decides. Might as well break it off now, and he negotiates another deal with your old clan.

When he broke the news, you felt your heart break. Even though you were starting to think about Raiden, your heart was still with Bi-Han.

Kuai and Tomas felt horrible when they saw how awful you felt, but they knew it would work out for you in the end. It was better this way, they were convinced.

You moved back with your clan, and you thought that Kuai and Tomas would stop taking you out, but they did not. They still kept in touch with you often. They never brought up Bi-Han or talked about him out of respect for you.

The other Earthrealmers heard about your split from Bi-Han and they knew it would not last too long.

Raiden felt liable for your divorce, but part of him was joyous. Without Bi-Han in the picture, he had a chance.

Kuai and Tomas took you out again to Madame Bo's when you felt like you were ready.

Raiden is in awe of how free and wonderful you look. It was as if you had gotten more stunning after your relationship with Bi-Han ended.

Seeing Raiden makes your heart flutter and you immediately sit by him.

Johnny makes a comment about how the Lin Kuei colors were not fitting for you and you laugh.

Raiden feels himself start to get flustered when you two interact. You both are much more handsy but in innocent ways.

Kung Lao cannot help that stupid grin on his face and he gives Raiden a look. Raiden rolls his eyes.

As the night continues, you and Raiden are in your own world.

When it is time to leave, Raiden walks you home. You get the courage to tell him that you are interested in him, but you feel that it is too soon to get into another relationship.

He completely understands, and he takes your hands and tells you that he would wait an eternity to be with such a wonderful woman like you.

You become flustered and both say goodbye. He cannot help but smile like a madman when he is walking back.

When it is time, Raiden is so thrilled. He feels honored to be with someone similar to him.

Your heart swells with love when you see Raiden. He makes you feel much more appreciated and adored than Bi-Han had ever done.

Kuai and Tomas congratulate you both on your new relationship. They are happy for you, and it is good to see you in a happy, equal relationship.

However, Bi-Han was troubled. He did not notice it at first, and it did not hit him right away until more time passed. His chambers were empty, there were no more warm meals from you, he had to be treated in med bay for his wounds instead of you taking care of him, his uniforms were never patched up, he never got to wake up to you next to him. The Arctika felt lonely without your presence. He ate dinner with his brothers, but the empty spot next to him made him long for you.

He did not realize how much of a difference you made in his life. With your sweet kisses that you pressed to his face or his lips or the loving gaze you had when you crossed paths with him.

His moods faltered. He really started to miss you, and his brothers could see that he was struggling. They felt culpable because they convinced him to divorce, but it was for your own good. Deep down, they both knew you deserved better than Bi-Han. And you did get better, you had Raiden.

The brothers were able to convince Bi-Han to go out for dinner. Just the three of them. Bi-Han surprisingly agreed, but he still felt melancholy. It upset him that his wife could not go with them. So he was in a sour mood when they arrived.

Raiden always took you out no matter what, he loved being with you and showing you off. His friends were overjoyed that you both were a couple now. Kung Lao always teased you both. But truly, they were happy.

Sitting at the table with the men, your eyes were met with cold, hurting brown eyes. Your breath slightly hitched as Bi-Han watched Raiden's arm snake around your waist while he was talking. His eyes narrowed and his face was screwed up in displeasure. Seeing Raiden touch you in intimate ways made Bi-Han clench his jaw as he furiously watched as Raiden held your hand with his free one. It should have been Bi-Han holding you. It should have been him next to you. You should have been with him tonight, not Raiden.

But Bi-Han saw how happy you looked with him. He saw you show emotions that he never saw from you when you were with him. It made him regretful. He should have been better with you.

He turned his eyes away from you and stared at the table. Tomas and Kuai Liang both felt the miserable energy radiating from Bi-Han. He was too late to change things. You were happy with someone else. And that was final. He could not change a thing about it. Although he badly wanted to grab you and take you back to the Arctika, he could not bring himself to move. You were not his.

#mk1 #mk 1 #mk1 2023 #mk1 bi han #mk bi han #mk1 kuai liang #mk kuai liang #mk1 tomas vrbada #mk tomas vrbada #mk sub zero #mk scorpion #mk smoke #mk1 raiden #mk raiden #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #bi han sub zero #bi han x reader #raiden x reader

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pedroshotwifey · 19 days

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Should've Stayed Bored

Please understand that this is a crack fic based on this post by @bonezone44 and the comments made by @covetyou on said post ) Also tagging other commenters on that post: @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog snowflake-blog@bubble-pop-eclectic @lunitawrites

Pairing: Chump!Joel Miller × fem!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Tags/Warnings: Joel Miller NOT being a sex god, left flap rubbing, mention of the clit, piv sex (if you could call it that), premature ejaculation, age gap, dad's buddy!joel miller, bad make out sessions, misplaced confidence, secondhand embarrassment, crack fic

Summary: You really need to learn to lower your expectations.

A/N: I actually had a great time writing this and think it turned out really fucking funny.

A/N pt. 2: Well, the og post got fucking deleted, but here it is again. Fucking pissed. I would really appreciate any interaction even if you already did the first time just so I can get it back out there </3

special thanks to @romanarose, @wannab-urs, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, and everyone else who helped me calm my tits and post this again. Love y'all ❤

*****

You’re bored out of your fucking mind. You’ve had four drinks and have walked in and out of the house probably a dozen times. For a neighborhood barbeque, it’s uneventful as hell. You would think that there would at least be a few interesting people out of so many. But no. So far there’s a group of old ladies gathered around the pool in sun chairs, their husbands around the grill talking about sports, and some kids—probably grandkids—running rampant around the yard.

That’s what your dad gets for moving into a retiree neighborhood. There’s only a few other households you know of that don’t host couples in their late sixties. Kind of like, speak of the devil, the Millers, who are walking in through the yard gate right now.

It’s only the two of them—Joel and his daughter, Sarah, who is only about eight. She runs off to go play with the other kids and you smile as you spot Joel struggling to carry a bowl and latch the gate back at the same time. You immediately take the opportunity to walk toward him.

You’ve always had your eyes on Joel Miller, even though he’s only a few years younger than your father. He’s a DILF in all ways that count. Sweet, responsible, and hot as hell.

“Hey, Mr. Miller,” you grab his attention as you reach where he’s still trying to balance everything. His face lights up when he sees you coming to help.

“Hey, darlin’, you don’t mind helpin’ me with this, do ya?” he nods his head to the gate.

“Nope, not at all,” you say sweetly as you get the gate latched behind him. He beams at you as he shifts to hold his dish with both hands. It looks heavy.

“Thank you. And please, call me Joel.” He flashes you a wink that makes your stomach flutter before he starts for the back door.

With nothing better to do, you follow him inside. He’s putting his bowl in the fridge when you close the door behind you and take a spot leaning against the counter. There’s nobody else inside right now, and you realize you might have just found your cure for boredom.

You slide up next to Joel as he stands up.

“What did you bring, Mr. Miller?” you ask him in an over the top sweet voice.

He shoots you a pointed look and takes a step back to put a few inches between the two of you.

“Potato salad,” he says flatly. “And please, it’s just Joel.”

“Well, Joel,” you take a step toward him again. “I’m bored.”

You swear you see him gulp, and you know you’ve got him right where you want him. He glances out the window, probably looking for your dad manning the grill.

“Darlin’,” he says in warning. “I’m sure you can find something out there to do.”

You pout at him. “But I found something to do in here.”

“Honey, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No?” you banter. “You don’t want to fuck me, Joel? I see the way you look at me.”

He surges forward, trapping you against the counter. You smile wildly at him and throw your arms around his neck.

“Get your ass upstairs, now,” he growls. “Strip and wait on your bed.”

Your pussy flutters at his command, excitement building in your stomach.

“Yes, Mr. Miller. Don’t be long.” You flash him a wink and slide from in front of him to make your way upstairs. You feel his eyes on you until you reach the top step.

He only waits a little while, presumably to cover his bases so it doesn’t look like he’s sneaking off with his friend’s much-too-young daughter, before following you up. And by that time, you’re already naked and sitting on your bed.

He comes in and shuts the door behind him, making sure it’s locked tightly before turning around. Your eyes go to the massive tent in his pants, your tongue coming out to wet your lips.

“You’re fuckin gorgeous, darlin’,” he says as he takes a step toward you, already starting to unbuckle his jeans. He pulls his heavy cock out and your lips part. You’d expected him to be big, but holy shit.

“C’mon, baby, lay back for me.”

You let him push you down on your back, and then scootch up a bit so that you’re resting with your head on the pillows. Your body is practically humming with excitement and need. Being with an older man has always been something high up on your bucket list, because there’s no doubt they know how to properly pleasure a woman. And a man like Joel Miller…you can’t fucking wait.

He leans over you and takes your lips in a sloppy kiss. You wind your arms around him and arch your back, begging silently for him to touch you already. He slips his tongue inside your mouth, and your eyes widen.

He’s just…licking.

You find it really hot when a man uses his tongue to make out with you, but. Not like this. You rear your head back, trying to gain control of the kiss. But then his hand starts to trail down to your center and you decide, whatever, you can pick and choose your battles. You’ll let him do whatever the fuck he thinks he’s doing to your mouth as long as he gets those thick fingers inside of you already.

He trails down, down, oh, there, he pets your clit and you shiver, and then—

Then he continues down…and to the left.

He starts rubbing circles on your left flap, and you furrow your brows.

What the actual fuck??

You unwind your arms and start pushing on his chest until he pulls his tongue from your mouth to gaze down at you.

“Joel, you—”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ like that, don’t you, baby?”

You just blink at him. What?

He winks at you. “I know, darlin’, feels real good, huh?” He dips back down to start kissing you again, thankfully leaving his damn tongue out of it. His fingers increase pressure, which you can only guess would feel really good if he was actually rubbing your clit.

“Joel,” you mutter against his lips again, but it comes out smushed and smothered. Kind of like your poor pussy right now. Or the outside of it, at least.

“So impatient,” he laughs. “Hold on one second, baby, Mr. Miller’s got you.”

You resist the urge to cringe at that.

He taps your abused pussy lip twice and retracts his hand to grasp his cock, which you’re now worried about. Hopefully he knows how to fucking use that thing. He guides his tip to your entrance—or tries to, rather, and you groan in defeat. He rubs it up and down your slit, prodding every second or so.

“Yeah, baby, fuckin’ love those sounds you make for me.”

You just stare at him. You’re not going to even pretend. This is just insane. How the hell did he actually make a kid??

Finally, he finds your hole—the right one, thank god—and starts to push in. You’re still pretty wet from earlier, though you’re sure there will be no developments in that department. Thankfully, it’s enough to ease the stuttering glide.

Once he’s fully in, he starts to thrust, and you grip on to him, holding on to that last hope that maybe he can nail your g-spot with that weapon of his.

“M…Feel so g-good, baby,” Joel moans.

He thrusts once, twice, three times, moaning like a fucking animal.

And then he pulls out. And shakes above you as he spills his cum on your lower belly.

You stare at him in shock as he rolls over and collapses beside you. His eyes are closed as he pants and reaches a hand over you to touch your stomach.

“You came?” he asks.

You consider lying to him, but figure he doesn’t deserve that.

“No, Joel, I did not fucking come.”

“Oh, okay. Tha’s alright. Get you next time.”

You sit up and gape at him.

“Get the fuck out of my room!”

He looks at you with confusion but gets up after a moment. He yawns, tucks himself into his pants, and struts for your door.

“Don’t be ashamed to ask for more, darlin’. I wouldn’t be opposed to doin’ this again sometime.” He sends you a wink and walks out of the room before you get the chance to say something you’ll regret more than whatever the fuck just happened.

You learned a valuabale lesson today: age really does not fucking matter.

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blue-slxt · 8 months

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Imagine petite!human reader literally being used as a living fleshlight😩

Like she’s so small she can just be lifted off the ground and pounded🥴

Honestly don’t even care who it’s written for feels like a Jake, lo’ak, or quaritch kinda senecio

Sincerely, a no where near petite girlie

Thank you so much for your patience. I've been working on like a million different things at the same time so I am so behind on requests. But I looove this idea. Something about just being manhandled however your partner wants you to be is so fucking aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrgggggghhhhhhhh😩! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this.

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

Smut under the cut.

“Make sure you don’t break my bed with your big ass.” You playfully scold Lo’ak while pulling on your spaghetti strap shirt. He flops his entire body weight onto your bed making it creak. It was times like this when you really took note of just how big of a size difference there was between you. Of course, the Na’vi were much bigger than average humans already, but you were even on the small side for humans. Watching how his body can’t fit properly on your bed while you could be swallowed whole by your sheets and blankets never ceased to amaze you. He waves you off with a ‘yeah, yeah’ while he makes himself comfortable putting his hands under his head. You roll your eyes at him and start to search through all the DVDs you have for something for you two to watch.

“What are you in the mood for this time? Something funny? Romantic? Dramatic?” you fire off the different genres as you toss aside disc after disc.

“Hmm…” he dramatically hums thinking about his answer.

You don’t bother to look at him while he mulls it over and you continue searching. You faintly comprehend the sound of him shuffling and moving around behind you, but you pay it no mind until a pair of big hands find their way on your small frame. Lo’ak’s lips brush lightly over the back of your neck and it almost tickles when he speaks.

“I think I’m in the mood for something sexy” he presses kisses onto your neck and shoulder.

“You are so corny” you say with a laugh, but you still lean into his touch anyway.

“Just put on whatever. I’d rather watch you anyway.” His low voice in your ear makes your nerves come alive with this intense fluttering all over your body. His impatience is rubbing off on you so you hurriedly throw whatever you can reach into the player without really bothering to look at what it is. Once the movie starts playing, you turn around to face Lo’ak and he immediately swipes you up off the floor and your legs lock around his waist while he presses his lips to yours. Holding onto him like this gives you the perfect feel of his cock straining against his tewng and poking you right between your legs. Clearly, he can feel it too from how his hands hold your hips and grind you down against him. Every move brushes against your covered clit and gives you small tingles of satisfaction, but it’s not enough. He’s got you so riled up now that you decide to have a little more fun and push his limits. On any given day, Lo’ak could, and would, fuck you until your body felt like jelly. But on occasion, he would lose himself and by the end, even your brain would feel numb and fuzzy filled with nothing but him possessing you completely. That’s exactly what you need right now.

Without warning, you unfold your legs from around him and let go completely dropping to your feet on the ground. His puzzled expression is nothing short of adorable.

“Shit, I just remembered that I have a report to finish” you say walking over to your computer desk and sitting down.

“Babe, you have got to be kidding me right now.” You were never one to deny Lo’ak what he asked for. Ever. Not even when you would join the clan for communal dinner and he would pull you off into the dark out of view of everyone else.

“It’s only going to take a few minutes, Lo.” You say sitting down and pulling your hair forward and exposing your neck. Lo’ak groans behind you. You know how much he loves when you present your neck for him to mark. He’s starting to catch on to your little game. If he wants it, he’s going to have to take it.

“If it’s only going to take a couple minutes, then do it after” he says pulling your chair away from your desk and over to the bed. He spins you around to face him and heat settles between your thighs at the way he’s eyeing you right now. “I need you, mamas.”

“You’re doing a whole lot of talking and yet, I’m still fully clothed” you say with a sly smirk.

He chuckles lowly to himself, “oh, you are asking for it.” In one swift motion, Lo’ak pulls you onto his lap by your waist. Your hands brace against his chest to keep yourself from flying forward. His face settles in the crook of your neck and he nips lightly at your skin making you jump.

“Now, am I going to have to rip these cute little shorts off of you or are you gonna behave and take them off yourself?”

“Don’t…I like these ones.” You whine.

“Then get rid of them. Right now.”

You shift yourself around so that you can maneuver out of your shorts while he pulls his tewng to the side to expose his thick, hard cock that was already leaking precum from the tip.

“Already so hard, love. Is that for m—”

“Don’t try to get cute with me” Lo’ak cuts you off by grabbing you by your waist and slamming you down onto his dick in one quick snap.

It feels like an electric shock is shot up your spine and goes straight to your head being immediately filled to the brim. He gives you no time to adjust before he’s fully lifting your body by your waist up and down on his cock.

“Ah! Fu-ck! Lo-ak!” Your words and breaths are broken from how he’s making you bounce on top of him.

“Shit, your pussy is so fuckin perfect” he says through gritted teeth.

His big hands on your smaller frame completely take control of your movements and you have no choice but to let him have his way with you. His dick continues to bully its way into your tight cunt and kiss your cervix making your toes curl.

“Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum inside of you, mama. You want that, hm? Want me to fill you up?” his voice is lighthearted, but you can tell from the look in his eyes and his laser focus on you how close he really is and how badly he wants to give you everything.

“Yes, yes, yes, please Lo’ak!” your vision is already starting to spot as you near your own high while he keeps using you as his own personal fuck toy.

“Hng, shit!” he bucks his hips up to match the way he’s moving your body for you a few more times before the heat of his cum starts to fill you from the inside out. It sends you over the edge into your own orgasm and your pussy clamps down on him even tighter if that was even possible. Lo’ak sucks in a sharp breath feeling how tight you are around him and his forehead falls forward onto your chest waiting for you to stop milking him for all he’s worth.

His hands finally let go of your waist and they fall to sit on top of your thighs while you both try to catch your breath.

Suddenly the TV booms from across the room, “I am Bruce Almighty! My will be done!” making both of you snap your head in its direction.

“What the fuck movie did you put on?” Lo’ak laughs breathlessly.

“I have no fucking clue and I kind of don’t really care” you laugh equally out of breath. “But it looks like we still have some time before it’s over…” you lightly suggest.

He already knows what’s on your mind and a devilish smirk crosses his face.

#blue babbles #thanks anon!#thanks for the ask!#avatar #avatar the way of water #awow #avatar fic #loak sully #lo'ak #loak #lo’ak #avatar loak #loak x reader #loak fanfiction #atwow loak #loak smut #avatar smut

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eyesxxyou · 6 months

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Just Talkin'

{★} .. hobie brown x black!reader

rating. mature

word count. 3.1k

synopsis. you broke up with hobie for reasons out of your control and it seems as if he's intent on making you regret it.

・．❕ warning. you are a mess, oral (f receiving), smut is short cuz it's not the focus, body shots cuz why not, a LOT of angst

You can't believe you're here…with him.

Your eyes shift across the room, always somehow landing upon his tall, lanky figure sitting on a pillow with a joint between his fingers and a perpetual chuckle in his throat. Nothing ever funny enough to elicit a full laugh, always a breezy chuckle.

You sip on your drink, barely listening to your friend telling you about how her partner was being an asshole as always and how she thinks she should break up with him (she never does). Your gaze doesn't linger on Hobie or you'd give yourself away.

You agreed to be friends, you agreed to keep his secret being Spider-Man. You made up lies for him on a dime just to protect him to which he'd always thank you with a wink and one of those smiles he knows you used to swoon over. "Thanks, luv." He'd whisper in your ear, tossing his arm over your shoulders to pull you in close. Then he'd disappear all together.

Why did you two have to have the same friend group? Why did every outing have to mean being forced to be in close proximity to him? It was your decision haunting you, whispering in your ear that you should have never broken up with him because it seemed he was now intent on making every interaction hell for you.

Did you know that every time you look away, he looks at you, stealing glances far more discreet than yours? His gaze caresses your face, your lips, the curve of your body. He takes a drag of his joint and smiles to himself because he sees that you're still wearing that necklace he gifted you. Your fingers fiddled with it subconsciously, twisting at the small tube that contained a single, preserved rose petal within it.

It was another one of your shared friend's ideas to do body shots. Everyone was in enthusiastic agreement besides you and Hobie. He didn't say anything about it, went along with it anyway because that's just who he was. You on the other hand sat where you were while everyone else got into a circle on the floor. You didn't want to play, didn't want to see Hobie with his lips and tongue all over someone else's body or see one of your friends do the same to him.

"I'll sit this one ou', mates." Hobie saw your reluctance to play and instantly knew why. "Y/N don' wanna play so I'll stay ou' to make i' even." He's a good liar like that, convincing with his nonchalant manner of going about things. That's why he was able to keep being Spider-Man a secret for so long. You would have never found out if not for him straight up telling you a few months into your relationship. It's also how you two were able to keep your relationship a secret from your friends for as long as it lasted. Now it was a matter of keeping your breakup a secret as well.

He stood up and came over to the couch where you sat. You wished he wouldn't as he sat down beside you and tossed an arm across the back of the couch behind your head. He leaned into you, smelling of weed, natural musk, and cologne that made you want to lean into him and press your face into the side of his neck.

Instead you shuffle away from him slightly so your bodies weren’t pressed so snuggly together. “You don’t have to sit out for me.” You murmur under your breath just loud enough for only him to hear. “You don’t own me anything.”

“I know, dove.” He took another drag before reaching over your body to tap off the excess ashes into the ashtray beside you. “Jus’ don’ gotta partna play wit’ now do I?” His fingers played with your hair like he always used to do. It’s like nothing changed for him. Why didn’t he hate you for breaking up with him? Why didn’t he despise you for trying to make him choose between you and being Spider-Man?

“I’ll play if you do.” He whispers in your ear with one of those wicked smiles across his pretty, dark lips. You turn to look at him, looking into those eyes you still adored that dare you to commit. He’s in it if you are. And oh, how you’re still so weak to him. Even after months of being separated.

“Fine.” You looked to your friends, already pouring a shot on one of them. “We’re joining.” You got up and slid down on the floor with Hobie in pursuit, sitting across from you.

It was getting rowdy quickly, everyone cheering and coaxing each other on as you played. Lips on bodies, tongues and laughter, smacking when someone got too frisky, more laughter. You were all drunk and or high. It was all fun and games for you.

Until it was your turn. That’s when you sobered up. You had already agreed to be the human shot glass and there was no turning back now. Hobie was already putting out his joint in a nearby ashtray while your friend coaxed you into taking off your shirt. You did, wringing it in your hands as you laid back and a shot of tequila was poured out on the flat of your naval. It's cold, makes you shiver softly. But nothing will make you shiver more than Hobie climbing up between your legs, his hands on your waist as he looks at you. 'You okay?' His gaze asks and you nod just subtly enough to give him the okay to continue.

You have no idea why you put yourself in a situation like this, with Hobie's lips latching to your naval, slurping up the tequila from your frame, his hot tongue lavishing over your heated skin. Were you desperate for pain? Were you craving that lingering feeling of regret over breaking up your relationship?

His eyes looked up into yours, hands stroking sides, pulling you a little closer. His teeth graze your flesh, tongue lapping up the last lingering sting of tequila off your skin. You could have moaned if not for all the people around you, pulled him up and forced your lips against his. He would have never refused it, would have welcomed it like the old lover you are.

You were overwhelmed by it all, all the eyes on you, laughing and cheering the two of you on. Hobie's hands, his teeth, his lips, his tongue. Every movement sending tremors through you that you know he can feel. His hot gaze looks through you like glass and you can't stand the way he reads you so thoroughly because you're an open book for him.

You sit up abruptly, pushing Hobie back as you stand and swiftly march away with your shirt in your hands. You couldn't bear it. It was too much. Your friends probably thought you had lost it, murmuring amongst themselves asking what your deal was.

You shut yourself off in the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror. Your belly was still wet with his saliva, a firm frown etched itself across your lips. You looked disappointed in yourself, for causing such a scene, for letting anything like that happen in the first place, for even agreeing to remain friends with Hobie knowing that feelings were still running high and would for a very long time.

There was a knock on the door and you quickly began to put your shirt back on. "Hold on!"

"Ya need help there?"

God, why did they have to send him to check up on you? Why him?

"No, fuck off, Hobie." You could hear the door click closed behind him as you pulled your shirt over your head and slid your arms through the sleeves. "That shouldn't have happened. I shouldn't have played that game with you. Why are you even here?" You turn back and see him all leaned up against the door with that nonchalant demeanor that instantly makes anyone and everyone feel non-judged and seen, seen as much as they want to be. He doesn't pry or pick, it's whatever you want and it irritates the hell out of you because it makes it so hard not to want to kiss him.

"T' check on ya." He shrugged as if it were obvious. "You kinda freaked out there. Jus' wan'ed t' make sure you were okay… Here as a frien' or whateva."

"I'm fine, you can leave now."

"Are you?"

Your eyes shoot daggers at him and he takes it with a smile, arms crossed over his chest. He looks so pretty, with his crop top that shows off his firm naval and happy trail, those lips, those hips, those pretty eyes.

Sometimes you wonder why you broke up with him in the first place. He's never done you wrong, never cheated, never lied beyond hiding he was Spider-Man, never made you feel unloved. Then you remember the anxiety you’d get every time he went out, the debilitating sort, the fear that he might not come back from saving the day. There was the pain of having to clean up his wounds after a fight, clean bloody noses, haphazardly stitch up the deeper gashes with your sewing needle, kissing bruises. Watching him ache for days after the more grueling fights. It was too much for you to handle. You couldn’t do it anymore.

“Why don’t you hate me?” Your voice was soft, hushed as your gaze softened with something bordering on sorrow. “I mean– I ruined something that was perfectly good. Why don’t you hate me for leaving you?” He should want nothing to do with you and yet, he was still here, still in your ear, in your gaze, in your heart.

Hobie shrugged again. His smile faded slowly, fingers picking and peeling at the chipped, black nail polish glossy on his fingertips. “You had ya reasons, luv. Valid reasons. I could neva be mad at you f’ tha’. Plus… I could neva hate’cha. No matter what’cha do, dove.” He stood up straight, came in close, and gently reached out to caress the side of your cheek with his fingertips.

You leaned into his touch. The warmth of his hands contrasting the cool of his rings made you sigh. You looked up at him and he looked down at you and all you could think was how much you missed him.

You got up on your toes and pulled Hobie down to ease your lips onto his. He did not resist you just as you anticipated, he leaned into you, pressed you against the sink counter until your ass was on the surface of it and he was standing between your knees. His lips sought after yours, tongue begging for entrance into you mouth which you grant him without so much as a second thought.

Your hand finds his and your fingers laced together as he sunk his tongue into your mouth and strokes it against yours. He made you moan softly against his lips, your fingers wringing at his, your other hand on his waist as pulling him all the closer.

"Hobie." You whisper, pulling away just enough that your lips hover over his. He smells so good, so much like him that it makes you delirious. Hobie's still stealing pecks from you, humming softly like something of a purr against your lips. "We shouldn't–"

"'m still in love wit' you."

There's a beat of silence after he lets it slip. It's no surprise, he makes it so very clear that he's not over you. And he knows so vividly that you're not over him either. He can feel it. "I know ya couldn't handle i'. 'M no' askin' ya to come back to me. But please, don' tell me you're over me tha' quickly." He chuckled softly, almost sorrowfully as he kissed you again. His hands were under your shirt, heavy and warm against your skin as he strokes circles with his thumbs into your flesh. "Don't tell me tha'."

He pulls you to the edge of the counter, presses you against him. You moan softly with your back arching towards him. A familiar warmth began to grow between your thighs where he pressed himself. Hobie slid his tongue back into your mouth agape and loved you the way he always did, with tongue and teeth and soft, soft lips.

When you parted – panting – a soft whine escaping you, Hobie got down on his knees and lifted your shirt just enough to reveal the soft flesh of your belly. His lips placed tender, wet kisses against your heated skin. His fingertips traced the waist of your pants, his way of tenderly asking permission to continue.

You nodded, swaying, dizzy and drunk on love. You watch him swiftly undo the button and work down the zipper of your fly. You help him lazily, lifting yourself up to help him as he pulled down your pants and underwear in one motion and let them fall to the floor in front of him.

He was swift, tongue against your aching cunt before you even knew what was happening. You slapped your hand over your mouth before you could moan too loudly as his mouth explored what was always his to keep. His hands massaged your inner thighs, keeping them open and not clamping down on his head as you always seemed to do.

He was always so good with his tongue, stroking your clit with the tip of it before finding his way lower to your soaked entrance. He moaned into your cunt, whispering soft praises against your swollen bud. "Fuck– I missed you, baby. Miss this cunt too."

You missed this, you missed him, everything about him. Was it worth it? Was he worth all the uncertainty he caused? He told you himself that he wasn’t asking for you back. He’d never try to pressure you back into a relationship if that’s not what you wanted because he’s just a good person like that. And now you’re wondering even more why you ever wanted to break up in the first place.

He tongue fucked you nice and slow, his nose nudging your clit while his eyes fluttered at the taste of you. He missed your taste on his tongue, the way you struggled to stifle your moans so your friends around the corner wouldn't hear.

Your heavy-lidded eyes fluttered with pleasure. "Hobie please." You whispered out a soft whine, desperately attempting to rut your hips against his face. His large hands pressed your hips down, kept you still and placid for him. He looked up at you behind dark, low lids and hummed against your wanting cunt with something akin to pleasure.

Your hands grasped his shirt as you began to pull him up and away from your wanton pussy. He stood back between your legs, the pads of his fingers finding your clit to stroke while his lips returned to yours. You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue, your arousal, how much you missed him.

He rubbed your clit messily, fingers wet with your slick dripping on the counter. "My pretty girl, my pretty, pretty girl." Hobie cooed against your lips as you moaned against his. Your body rolled and shivered with each pinch and flick of his skilled fingers and Hobie adored every moment of it.

"Still so sensitive." He played your clit like he'd play with the strings of his guitar, with swift skill and intimate knowledge of all your parts. He knew just how to move to make you lose your mind.

Your arms were around his neck, pulling him in, holding him close, adoring his scent and the small scars on his otherwise smooth skin. Hobie pressed his body against yours with his hand between you, fingers teasing at your entrance but never going all the way. He knew the anticipation alone was enough, combined with the pad of his thumb against your tender rosebud.

Your breath quickened with the beginnings of your orgasm. It's been months since you've felt his touch. It was no surprise that you'd cum quick. Hobie chuckled softly at you, at how cute you were when you were about to cum. The way you'd whine so needily for him to make it quick or take his time. He could feel the ache of your pussy and knew you were so close, just on the cusp of relief.

"I love you, Hobie. I love you so, so much." Your cried against his mouth. "'m sorry I left you. I'm so sorry." You were on the cusp of tears, kissing him feverishly as he coaxed your through your orgasm, fingers circling your entrance and his thumb weighing on your pulsing clit. You babbled on and on about how much you missed him and how you wished you never left, how it was a mistake between breathless pants.

"Luv, luv, calm down. I love ya too." He helped you down from the counter and grabbed up your clothes as you attempted to keep yourself stable on your own two feet. He helped you get dressed, make yourself decent again all while chuckling at your humiliation, the way you couldn't even bear to look at him.

You were thinking hard – thinking loudly. He could see the gears turning behind your eyes with something of uncertainty. "Hobie–"

"Before ya make a rash decision, jus'… think 'bout it." Hobie held you by the waist and kissed you once again because he simply couldn't help himself. "Ion want you doin' somethin you'll regret, like gettin' back together wit' me."

You wanted to tell him that you'd never regret something like that. You never regretted him in the first place despite what he may think. It just that…things were complicated for so many fucked up reasons. You looked up at him with wide, desperate eyes begging him to simply see and understand you. "I love you." That's all you could think to say.

Hobie cracked something of a playful smile. "I know." And it meant so much more than just surface level. He saw just what you needed him to see and accepted it for what it was. He knew you, maybe more than you knew yourself and you were grateful for it.

Returning back out to the living room meant having to deal with questions from your friends. "What were you two in there so long for?" It seemed they hadn't heard anything from where they sat and your secret, with a little side-stepping, could remain just that – a secret.

Hobie, being the better liar, was quick to shrug carelessly and plop down on the couch. He glanced at you, grabbing your drink from where you left it and taking a sip.

"Jus' talkin'."

#across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman atsv #hobie brown #spiderman #spider punk #hobie brown fic #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie smut #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie brown x black!reader

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amamisa · 13 days

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SIXTY-FOUR EQUALS SIXTY-FIVE!

RANPO EDOGAWA ⋮ BUNGO STRAY DOGS

premise. ranpo loves to give you all sorts of little riddles, but this one might have you stumped the most out of all of them.

story notes! fem!reader. fluff! reader works as part of the ADA office staff. animated dividers by @/cafekitsune!

love, misa ‹3 if you know what the title is referencing, ily! also, reblogs, comments and interactions are vrie appreciated!

“. . . Pardon?”

Ranpo looks to you with a pointedly smug grin playing on his face, hands relaxedly folded behind his head as he leans back in the ADA office’s chair. It creaks beneath him as he plants his feet atop the mahogany desk and swivels around slowly, a sign that you should probably get the seat oiled soon.

“It’s simple, is it not?” He asks and you slowly shake your head no, mouth slightly agape when he starts to sigh, repeating his prior statement.

“Sixty-four equals sixty-five, and that’s that!”

You blink a few times, hoping that the information sinks in a little more inside of your beain just long enough that you can even begin to process whatever he means.

The words play back in your mind like an old VHS tape, abruptly coming to a halt when you can’t fall into a proper, conclusive or logical answer that would make sense in any normal situation.

“That’s . . . false,” you begin to argue, albeit a bit unsurely as you have no idea what to even say in the moment. Your mouth moves faster than your brain as you tell him the only logical thing you can think of.

“If sixty-four equalled sixty-five than it would be sixty-five and not sixty-four.”

Ranpo lets out a laugh, only telling you that “You’re wrong,” and for a second you look around the ADA office wondering if there were any cameras filming the two of you. You find that the other office clerks are merely seated at their own desks though, watching the spectacle between you and Ranpo go down, and a little amused at your bewilderment.

You’d think that for a man who is labelled as the greatest detective in all of Yokohama (and quite possibly the entire world once you took into account his inherent genius and lack of an ability), that much would make sende for someone like him.

Surely he couldn’t have said a more incorrect statement than that with such confidence in himself.

But no, of course not.

It’s Ranpo you’re dealing with, and he says a lot of odd little phrases and sayings just to mess with your head sometimes. It started since your first day with the ADA, it’s been years now and he’s still going too.

He doesn’t show any signs of stopping soon either.

(“You just look so funny with your face all scrunched up in thought!” He once told you after a particularly difficult riddle that had you stumped for hours on end until the end of the work day, afterwhich you realized the answer was unfathomably easy once he had revealed it to you.

Nobody else in the ADA could’ve gotten it though, so it saved you at least some of your dignity.)

You assume that this must be another one of those cryptic riddles he’s thrown your way, maybe a test to see if you’ve somehow managed to improve from last time. An inkling of hope swells inside your chest, hoping that today is the day you finally manage to answer correctly to one of Ranpo’s mysterious riddles.

Setting down the bowl of candies in your hands on his desk, you stand in thought for a moment, scouring your brain for anything that could relate to the riddle as Ranpo delightedly digs into the newfound treats, appearing blissful to the mental agony he loves to put you through sometimes.

The little dish clinks against his fingernails as he searches through the pile of sweets for his favourites at the bottom, the sound of the plastic unwrapping in tune with the beat of the ticking in your brain while you think over his words from earlier.

He gave no set up, no punch line, no nothing at all. There wasn’t any indistinguishable context to the riddle-like words that you could recall, it was only—

“Sixty-four equals sixty-five . . .” Ranpo hears you mutter underneath your breath, and his lips curl up in delight as he munches on a decadent chocolate truffle, filled with sticky caramel and generous bits of toffee.

The caramel sticks to his teeth, with the toffee clinging to the sides of his tongue and the roof of his mouth as he chews away at the treat, patiently watching while you continue to talk to yourself, still thinking over his words from earlier.

“Could it be a math riddle? No, that’s not possible though if we’re going by technical math terms and rules . . . Maybe something to do with physics? But how could anything simultaneously be sixty-four and sixty-five?”

Ranpo’s mischievous grin only continues to grow as you remain oblivious to his watchful eyes, and his gaze scans over your features, wordlessly taking in your appearance.

Your knitted brows, the way you subconsciously pout your lips whenever you’re in deep thought, your crossed arms, all while unknowingly talking to yourself as you piece together the clues.

Ranpo sees it all as clear as day. And he finds it unbelievably cute.

“Maybe it’s about hex codes from the colour wheel, since one colour can look different depending on the background it’s placed over. It could have less to do with the numbers themselves than the meaning or history behind them—”

“Are you done yet?” You’re brought back to reality by the sound of Ranpo’s voice interrupting your thoughts, head perking up as you’re met with the sight of his nougat stuffed cheeks. All puffed out and full of sugar as he holds back a laugh once he sees how quickly your face softened from it’s previously hardened features.

“You were taking forever to solve that one! And it’s really not that hard to begin with!”

“Speak for yourself,” you scoff, taking one of the chocolates from the bowl and unwrapping it for yourself. The plastic crinkles beneath your fingertips, you stuff the wrapper in your pocket before popping it into your mouth.

The caramel sauce encased in the hard chocolate shell explodes when you crunch down on it, a sweet little victory to make up for the quizzical hurdles you’re put through on a regular basis, courtesy of the man sitting right across from you.

“You’re Yokohama’s greatest detective, it’s obvious that these sorts of riddles come naturally to you,” you wholeheartedly confess, savouring the light cocoa and sweet, subtly coconut flavours that coat your tongue. “I’m not like you, Ranpo. Nobody in the ADA is, what takes us twelve weeks to solve you can answer in twelve seconds.”

“Awee, really?” He giggles, swiping more of the little candies from the bowl on his desk. He seems to have missed the original point entirely by now, as he motions for you to continue, “Go on, tell me more about how great I am!”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at him, maybe you shouldn’t have gassed him up so much during your little acknowledgement speech. Though with the cases he’s solved in his repertoire, you really can’t argue against that title of his.

“No, you’ve had enough of that from Kunikida and Atsushi just this morning alone.”

A small pout graces Ranpo’s lips as you sigh, ignoring the kicked puppy eyes he gives you while walking back to your desk, continuing to mutter underneath your breath the same words that will probably leave you stumped for the next few days on end.

“Sixty-four equals sixty-five?”

Ranpo cranes his head as he eats away at the rest of his candy stash, watching you immediately turn to one of your co-workers from his own work space to ask them the same question Ranpo gave you, inquiring about any clues they might have as to the answer.

“No, there’s gotta be an answer,” he overhears when your colleague shrugs their shoulders, simply telling you that whatever Ranpo says is probably just a load of gibberish meant to mess with your mind.

“Just— just give me anything you can think of, okay? I’ll solve one of his riddles one day.”

The sight has Ranpo smiling behind the back of his hand, eyes crinkling at the corners with glowing cheeks when you sees you bring out one of your notepads from the desk drawer’s, clicking your pen as you begin to write down any guesses you might have to tell him later.

Truth be told, unlike the rest of the spontaneous mind games Ranpo pulls on you— this one has no actual meaningful answer. At least, not one that you’d understand at the moment if he were to tell you it’s solution.

But despite that looming factor always casting it’s dark shadow onto you, the thought of Ranpo giving you a riddle truly impossible to solve has never really crossed your mind.

Otherwise, you would very easily give up solving them after just a moment of contemplation.

Ranpo’s noticed though that you tend to wallow on them for days at a time unless he comes clean and tells you the answer in it’s entirety, letting his silly and easily misconstrued words stew inside your head during your lunch breaks and slow times at the ADA where you’ll maybe sometimes bound up to him excitedly with a guess as to what you think the answer is.

It’s charming how much thought you put into your solutions, and admittedly you’ve gotten quite close a few times to figuring them out all on your own. Ranpo’s always impressed with whatever you come up with, even if it’s outlandishly ridiculous or nowhere even close to the actual answer itself.

It’s really your explanations and logic behind them that he likes, with some of the ideas you bring up for splutions are those that he hasn’t even thought of beforehand until you ask him if they’re right.

(Sometimes he wants to cut your little game short and just give you the win for once if your guess is creative enough.

But where’s the fun in that?)

He’ll give you more of these up until the day you leave the ADA (though he hopes that’s not anytime soon) if it means he gets to see that delightful little confused but hopeful expression you make while deep in thought.

Your persistence in finding out the answer on your own until you’ve been truly worn out by him is also admirable.

Because while you’re always just a bit confused by all the different riddles, puzzles and play-on-words he hounds on you each day, he finds that you’ve yet to actually reject his proposal to solving them, never even considering walking away from his absurdity unlike with most people he knows if he asked them the same.

He prays it’ll stay that way too.

Otherwise, who else would he have to fawn over in secret?

Ranpo deduces that while you may be clever (anyone who works at the ADA is, it’s basically a requirement when working with ability users such as them), he’s always just a few steps ahead of you.

It’s not an insult towards you on his end in any way either. Your way of thinking is totally different from his own, but he reasons out that he can make arrangements to improving your logical deduction abilities once he finally figures out how to convey his feelings for you.

Properly, and not through a series of complex paradoxes and logic puzzles.

The most complex riddle of them all though that the ADA office staff asks themselves each day while witnessing the two of you has to be:

Whose logical reasoning is really being tested here again? Yours, or Ranpo’s?

The ADA believes that Ranpo should use less of his time giving you intrinsically methodical puzzles and focus more of his energy on realizing his blooming, lovesick crush.

works © amamisa 2024. no copying or stealing, please!

#bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #ranpo edogawa #ranpo x reader #ranpo edogawa x reader #ranpo edogawa fluff #ranpo fluff #bungo stray dogs ranpo #bsd ranpo #bsd fluff #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd fanfic #bsd scenarios #bsd x female reader #signed by misa ৻ꪆ

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yuujispinkhair · 5 months

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Sukuna gave up on love years ago. But somehow, your eyes and your smile are all he can think about. -> This is part of my Blog Anniversary Event. A sweet anon requested the song "Lovebug" by the Jonas Brothers.

Pairing: Modern!CEO Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff Word Count: 700 Warnings: Mentions of alcohol. Sukuna and Reader meet as business partners, and feelings spark between them. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact.

God, it's ridiculous!

Sukuna slams his vodka glass down on his desk, laughing and shaking his head. He isn't a sentimental person. He isn't one of those fools who let their emotions get the better of them. He knows love is more trouble than anything else, and he isn't chasing it anymore. He decided years ago to stop doing that. No, Sukuna hasn't been looking for love for a long time.

And yet, all it took was one business phone call followed by an afternoon and a dinner spent with you, and now he can't stop this weird feeling from spreading through his chest. He sees your smile even when he closes his eyes. He still smells your perfume even though it can't linger on his skin after such a short moment of holding your hand and bringing it to his lips to kiss it.

It is highly ridiculous. And irresponsible. And foolish.

He swore off love. Swore off everything that could tear down his walls. And he is good at this, brilliant even. No one can see beneath Itadori Sukuna's mask of arrogance and indifference!

And yet your eyes looked at him with that knowing look. As if you could see right through him. As if you knew.

You treated him differently than the others. Your eyes didn't stray to his expensive watch or his car keys. You didn't order the most expensive meal off the menu when he said he would pay. You didn't act mysterious or slutty or any of those other things the others did, who were always so calculating, so desperately trying to fit into the image of the perfect doll, not realizing that it only made them seem fake.

There is nothing fake about you. You didn't hold back your laughter during dinner. You didn't worry about smearing your lipstick while eating. Your makeup was light, and the eyeliner applied a bit crookedly. It made his heart do a flip somehow. You didn't shy away from sharing a huge dessert with him, smiling and rolling your eyes in pleasure at how delicious it tasted. He had chuckled in genuine amusement and joy when you pushed a spoonful of ice cream towards him, telling him he simply had to try it.

So light. That's it. He feels so light when he is around you. It's as if all the small and big stresses of his busy CEO life just vanished into thin air, and instead, the sun is shining on him, and he can breathe in clear, fresh air.

He catches himself smiling as he thinks of how you snorted with laughter about one of his dry comments. Usually, none of those women laugh about his humor. And it's not just that you think he is funny. You replied with the same humor, making him laugh too.

He sighs and turns off his computer. It's late at night. Time to go home and get some rest. But not before he grabs his phone and types a quick message to you, thanking you for the lovely evening and wishing you a good night. He only hesitates for a small moment before he adds, "I would like to see you again. I know a place with even better dessert variations for two."

He is surprised by the smile he spots on his face in the mirrored walls of the elevator when he receives your reply, telling him that you would love to share a dessert with him again.

A catchy love song starts playing on his drive home. The type of song that Sukuna usually finds annoying and which would lead to him changing the radio station. But not tonight. Tonight, he lets it play, and maybe he hums a bit in tune with the melody. Maybe he feels a little fluttery sensation when hearing the lyrics about freshly found love.

Maybe all he can think of are your eyes and your smile and how good it felt to sit there with you and talk and laugh and not even realize how many hours had already slipped by, so caught up in his conversation with you. So caught up in your eyes.

He isn't someone who catches feelings easily. He thought for a long time that he had managed to become immune to all of this.

But does a man who is immune to falling in love hum along to a stupid catchy lovesong? Does a man who gave up on love smile to himself while he pictures your laugh?

Maybe the lovebug bit him after all. And maybe he is glad it did

Thank you so much for participating in my event! I hope you enjoyed this little story!! I am swooning so much thinking about spending a flirty business dinner with CEO Sukuna aww!!

Comments and reblogs would be sweet!!

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk x you

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auras-moonstone · 9 months

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hiiii idk if your taking requests but if u are can u please write like a heart breaking angst with jack and the reader but a sweet fluff at the end??? thank you so much <33333

i wrote this while i was on my period and i may have cried 🫣 hope you like it ! 💓

i know i miss you — jack champion

word count: 2,809

pairing: jack champion x fem!reader

summary: the relationship between y/n and jacks starts to fall apart, and y/n can’t take it anymore. when jack stands her up, she makes a decision.

WHEN Y/N FIRST MET JACK ON SET, she was very wary around him. He was charming, sweet, funny, caring—exactly the type she swore she would stay away from. Which is kind of ironic, isn’t it? Because those are qualities you usually look for in a person. But if there was something Y/N knew from working in Hollywood was: don’t fall for celebrities because they don’t have the best schedules for dating and you’ll get your heart broken. And Jack was exactly the type you couldn’t help falling for, so Y/N did her best to stay professional and have the least interaction possible. Did she succeed? Hell no. Jack Champion was the most social person Y/N has ever met.

“Jack, you need to stop talking. I can’t get your make-up done like this!” Y/N said, trying to sound annoyed but couldn’t help chuckling.

“Sorry. I’ll let you work” Jack apologised, his cheeks tinted a soft shade of red.

She melted at the sight. “You know I love talking to you. I didn’t mean it like that” she reassured him, not wanting him to get upset. “But they’re going to call you to do a scene and I’m going to get fired if you’re not ready”.

“Aren’t you being a little bit dramatic?” Jack laughed.

“Well, yeah, a little” she admitted. “And… done!”

“Thank you, you are the best!” he hugged her. “Are you ever going to get me fake blood or fake wounds?”.

“Are you subtly trying to get me to spill if you’re Ghostface or if you’re going to die?” Y/N crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“No! I would never use our friendship to do that!” he acted as if the accusation offended him.

“I’m really offended right now. Our friendship is over” she shook her head as she started cleaning the table.

“Let me buy you dinner tonight? You know, to win your affection back?” Jack spoke nervously, playing with his hands and looking at the back of her head.

Y/N froze. She knew they were walking on a fine line between friendly and flirting, and now he was crossing it. Her last relationship with an actor ended up badly—his interest to maintain their relationship deteriorated with the passing days until there was nothing she could do to save it. Y/N was left heartbroken and swore to herself she was never risking it again.

And then Jack came to her life with his cute dimples, bright eyes and dad jokes and completely swept her off her feet. Y/N fell for him in free fall—not being able to stop at all. And there she was now, unable to say no. Not wanting to say no. So she said yes.

And then one date turned into two, and then three and weeks later they became official. And everything felt perfect for the next few months, like they were inside of a romantic comedy. And life and fiction had one thing in common—the climax. And so the problems in their relationship appeared.

The filming of Scream 6 ended, which meant that Y/N and Jack could no longer see each other every day. They knew this would eventually happen, but they were positive they were going to be fine. Well, Jack was pretty positive, Y/N just hoped with all her heart her relationship with Jack wouldn’t meet the same ending than with her ex-boyfriend. Because she loved Jack with all of her heart, more than she had ever loved anyone else, and it scared her immensely.

The first punch in the heart came two months after they finished Scream 6: Y/N continued working as a make-up artist for movies and Jack had began filming Avatar 4, which required lots of time on set. She understood why his replies didn’t come as quick or why his texts weren’t long. He always made sure to add emojis and exclamation marks to let her know he wasn’t being dry, he just had short amount of time to talk to her—and she thought that was absolutely cute. They mostly face-timed or called each other, but as the production of Avatar continued, Jack grew restless; he arrived home very late and all he wanted to do was rest, so he started sending just texts.

And Y/N was very understanding, she knew how Hollywood worked. Not everything was going to be petals and pink all the time, they were going to have rough paths, especially because of work. What mattered is that both of them were trying their best to keep their relationship sane and intact. Until he stopped trying.

The calls were short and dry—she did most of the talking and he answered briefly. And texts? Well, she sent them but almost never got a reply.

“Y/N” he answered the called, lying on the couch of his trailer.

“Hey, babe! How are you?” she answered. Her phone was on speaker as she gathered her make-up stuff she had just used.

“I can’t really talk right now” he answered.

Y/N frowned “Oh, sorry. I thought you were on a break”

“I am, but you know… breaks are for taking breaks”

“Isn’t that what you are doing?” she asked confused, letting out a small laugh.

Jack sighed, Y/N could hear the irritation in his tone and she knew the fight was about to start “No, I’m not. I’m trying to rest but I know that if I don’t answer your call you’ll keep calling me and I’m tired”.

Y/N pressed her lips in a thin line, feeling like she had just been punched in the throat. “Right… sorry for bothering you. I’ll just… um- bye”.

She ended the call, and covered her head with her hands, letting the sobs escape from her mouth. Her chest felt like it was about to explode as she realized it was happening again.

Y/N left Jack alone for a couple of days, hoping that he would call her back and apologise, or at least be the one who texted first. But as it had been for a long time, Y/N was the one who took the first step.

hey love

hope you’re doing okay. sorry i didn’t text, been busy :(

our anniversary is tomorrow and i just wondered if maybe you’d like to come home to celebrate?

nothing fancy of course, maybe i can make dinner and watch a movie??

i love you 💖

He answered hours later.

hey babe🫶🏻!!

yeah, of course 💕

i’ll be there at 8, if that’s okay? i’ll bring dessert

i love you too💖!!!

Emojis. Exclamation marks. Hope filled her chest, maybe they were going to be alright. She went to bed with a smile on her face.

But the hope was short lived, because the following night, Y/N waited for three hours in the dimly lit kitchen, with dinner in front of her, the scent of the lavender candles surrounding her, with the red dress Jack loved so much on and the playlist they made together resonating in the room.

She checked her phone for the hundredth time, still no response to her texts. It was clear he had forgotten, so totally resigned, she blew the candles out, put the food back in the oven, put her pjs on and went to bed. The playlist—which now played love of my life by queen—still on as she cried herself to sleep. She decided then that it had been the last straw.

Jack arrived at her house at three in the morning. He entered the house, which was completely dark, and went to the kitchen. He stopped in his tracks, seeing the burnt out candles and a note lying in the middle of the table.

i don’t even know if you’re going to come

but the food is in the oven.

He cursed himself for having fallen asleep. The filming took longer than usual, and he just planned to take a thirty minute nap, which turned into five hours of sleeping. Jack’s intention had never been to stand his girlfriend up. In fact, he had prepared a whole speech apologising for having been the absolute worst boyfriend in the world. But he screwed everything up.

Jack walked upstairs carefully, and when he opened their bedroom door, his heart melted and broke at the sight of Y/N. She was sleeping with a frown on her face and dry tears on her cheeks—sign that she had cried herself to sleep, and that made Jack’s eyes water, as if her tears had ricocheted.

The tall boy sat next to her, caressing her cheeks softly while he tried to muffle his cries, but it was impossible. Y/N was the best girlfriend in the world: so patient, so caring, loving, understanding and sweet. And the only thing he had done was hurt her.

“Jack?” her sleepy voice interrupted his thoughts, and he tried to clean his tears fast. “What happened? Are you okay?” the worry in her voice was a punch in the gut. He had stood her up, on their anniversary, and there she was, kind as ever.

“I’m sorry” he sobbed “There’s no excuse, nothing happened to me, I just fell asleep for longer than I wanted. God, I’m sorry, love, I didn’t want this to happen” he grabbed her hand, squeezing it.

“Jack… I wish that I could say it’s okay… but it’s not. I have been so understanding, but clearly work is consuming you. It is your number one focus, and I get it, but that’s not what I need right now. I can’t do this again” her heart felt heavy in her chest, but she needed to do it. “I love you, more than I’ve ever loved anyone, but I think it’s best if we break up… I can’t go on like this”

Jack wanted to fight this decision, tell her how much he loved her, and that he got it now, that he was going to be a better boyfriend because he didn’t want to lose her. But he couldn’t be that selfish. “I understand. I just want you to know that I love you. And I’m really sorry for the hell I have been putting you through for the last few months, you deserve so much better. I loved you, I still do, please never doubt that”

“I know, Jack. Trust me, I do. But your work is important to you, more important than anything. And it’s okay” she tried to smile as she cleaned his tears.

“Can I, if it isn’t too much to ask, give you one last kiss?” he asked hopeful.

Y/N thought about it for a moment, and then nodded. Their last kiss was salty from their tears, and it expressed love, sadness, melancholy and regretfulness. Their fingertips explored everything one last time, trying to memorise the feeling of each other. And when they pulled away, they felt nothing but emptiness. That was it. They were over.

“Goodbye, Jack”

“Bye, Y/N/N”

Jack left the room and the bed that used to be theirs. They both broke down when the door closed, but they did their best to keep quiet so the other wouldn’t hear. This was supposed to be for the best, but it sure didn’t feel right.

Y/N THOUGHT SHE WOULD FEEL AT LEAST A BIT BETTER AFTER HAVING TALKED TO JACK. Spoiler alert, it felt quite the opposite. It hurt more every day. Literally everything reminded her of him. Two days after the breakup she saw the cup he used to drink coffee in and literally cried for thirty minutes straight. She couldn’t listen to music because she always had a way of relating every lyric to him. And sleeping on the bed? Big no. The other side of the bed was cold and it still smelled like him—she always fell asleep on the couch.

Jack wasn’t any better. He messed up his lines more than ever, the food wouldn’t go past his throat, he was always on his phone looking at pictures of Y/N and him or reading their old texts. He was miserable, and everyone noticed.

“How are you feeling, man?” his friend, Romeo, asked. He face-timed Jack every day ever since the break up, wanting to check on him.

Jack sighed, holding his phone “Still the same. Today I heard Last Kiss by Taylor Swift and cried like a baby for hours. That was her favorite song”

“Holy shit, man. I’m tired of seeing you like this. You know what you should do? Go apologise. You had to lose her to realize what a dick you were being, and it sucks, but now you know. Tell her how you really feel. After all, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Um, her saying that she doesn’t want to see me ever again and that I’m a piece of shit?” Jack asked.

“First of all, Y/N would never say that to you because she loves you. Way too much. Second, you don’t even talk or see each other anymore so what if she says that? It can’t get worse than this, but it can get better”

Jack frowned “You know what? You’re right!”

“Ah, my favorite words” he smiled smugly.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m going to her house now” he said confident.

“Please shower first. I can smell you through the phone” Romeo said right before hanging up.

One hour later, Jack was standing on Y/N’s porche practising what he was going to say to her once he had the courage to ring the bell. He didn’t need to, through, because the door was opened by a very confused Y/N. “What are you doing here?”.

“Oh, hi. I though I didn’t press the bell” he said.

“You didn’t. I saw you through the security camera. Are you okay? You have been standing here talking to yourself for the past ten minutes”.

“You saw that?” Jack blushed from embarrassment. Y/N tried not to laugh as she nodded. “Shit”

Y/N took in his appearance. It had been almost three weeks since the last time they saw each other. His hair was longer, it didn’t have the shape of a mullet anymore but it still looked cute on him, he was as handsome as ever. But the bags under his eyes were very prominent.

“You look… good” Jack said, eyes taking her figure. She, just like him, had bags under her eyes, her hair was in a messy ponytail—which made her look adorable—, and her body was covered by a big cardigan. His heart stopped, it was his cardigan.

“You’re a liar, I look like shit” Y/N said.

“You still manage to look beautiful” he told her. “I’m surprised you aren’t kicking me out, so I’m just going to talk before you change your mind. Y/N, I know I have been the worst boyfriend ever. I didn’t take care of you like I should’ve, as you deserve. I’m sorry I put my work over you, I really regret it. Because, frankly, I miss you more than anything and these weeks have been the worst days of my life. I keep seeing you everywhere, everything reminds me of you. I have been a mess, and I know it’s my fault. But losing you is the worst thing that has ever happened to me. You are one of the most important people in my life, and I’m sorry my actions didn’t show you that. I love you, and I want to try again with you. I know our love is worth fighting for, and that’s why I’m here, I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. In fact, I’m sorry I ever left”.

Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist and cried “I missed you so much. I should’ve said something, I should’ve told you how I felt, maybe we could’ve work it out”

“No, love. Don’t. It’s my fault” he rubbed her back softly, putting his cheek on top of her head.

“I want to try again with you. I do” she said against his chest.

“Really? Are you sure?” he asked surprised. It was more than he deserved, she was more than he deserved.

Y/N laughed “Yes, Jack. I’m very sure”

And so he grabbed her by the cheeks and pressed his lips against hers. They both almost cried at the feeling of the kiss, hours ago they thought they wouldn’t get to do that ever again. The consuming kiss, her palms against his cheeks, his fingers in the back of her neck, the heat of their bodies—it all felt like coming back home after being homesick. When they finally pulled away, they both smiled and pressed their foreheads together.

“Can we take a nap together? I have been having trouble sleeping without you” Jack said, blush coating his pale cheeks.

“Me too” she admitted. “Let’s go. The other side of the bed misses you”

#jack champion #jack champion x y/n #jackchampion #jack champion x reader #jack champion fluff #jack champion oneshot #jack champion imagine #scream iv #ethan landry #jack champion fanfic #ethanlandry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry oneshot

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gay-wh0re-slut · 5 months

Note

Hiii congratulations on 200 followers! could you write something like the reader and Rhea date, and the reader gets very jealous of the interactions between Rhea and Cathy Kelley, ending fluffy or smut or both lol it's up to your preference 💜

thank you so much!!! i’ve noticed you liking and reblogging a bunch of my stuff and i couldn’t thank you, enough it means so much to me 🩷

but this seems like a fun thing to write and we’ll definitely see where this takes me when we get to the ending haha

after writing: this is a bit short :/ but i hope you like it

Too Friendly

rhea x fem!reader

content: a bit of angst, a bit of fluff

“The honorary member of the judgment day,” the group would call you. You were almost always with Rhea at the shows because you loved seeing everything behind the scenes. The crew didn’t mind much because you kept to yourself and didn’t mess anything up, plus they liked seeing Rhea happy.

You were chilling in the Judgment Days locker room with Dom and Rhea before the other two got there. You were talking about random things and how Dom liked the chicken tenders bit the fans had and what was going on for the night.

Rhea got a text, “Cathy needs me, love, I’ll be back soon,” the australian kissed you before she stood.

“Do you know what she needs?” you were worried.

“Just a tiktok,” she cupped your face with both hands, “It won’t take a long, promise,” she smiled. “Dom!” she pointed at him, “tell her about that one thing,” as she laughed her way out of the judgment day’s locker room.

“Oh yeah!” he laughed with her.

“Okay so,” he started, he tried his best to get it out without laughing again, “Cathy said ‘hey come make a tiktok with me later’ to Rhea and but Rey was standing right there and he said ‘me?’ and Cathy said ‘never in a million years old man’ and he was furious!” he laughed again.

You giggled with him, but you didn’t find it as funny as they did because something else was on your mind.

He finally stopped laughing and caught his breath, “so what have you been up to?” he asked.

“Oh, uh nothing much,” you really didn’t have much going on, you were always with Rhea or at work. “I do have a question though.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Does… this is so stupid, but does Cathy have a crush on Rhea?” you wrung your hands as you tried not to sound too jealous.

“What? No, never. They’re just good friends and play it up for the fans, Rhea would never leave you or cheat on you or anything, she loves you too much,” he had a sincere tone, he could tell you were upset.

“She’s just always asking to do something with her and- I don’t know it just… I don’t know,” you were picking at the skin around your nails.

He got up and sat next to you, “hey, don’t worry, I promise. Never in a million years would she leave you. She talks about you all the time, I’ve never seen her so happy,” he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and gave a slight squeeze.

You easily gave into it, you let out a big sigh, “okay, thank you,” as you gave him a weak smile.

“You know what,” he stood holding out his hand, “let’s go watch them, maybe she’ll ask us to be in it too.”

You grabbed his hand and he led you out of the locker room.

“Hey Mami!” he shouted as you got closer to them.

“We’re almost done, everything alright?” Rhea seemed worried.

“Yeah! We just wanted to watch you,” he played it off.

You nodded your head in agreement smiling at your girlfriend but shot a look towards the other woman.

“Well, I’m nervous now,” Cathy laughed.

“Oh please,” Rhea laughed with her.

You and Dom sat on some rolling cases that were strewn backstage as you watched them do the same lines over and over to get the right take. You smiled and laughed silently not wanting to mess it up for them. Rhea kept giving you looks of endearment every now and then, but Cathy kept pulling her attention away from you.

They finally finished, “Sorry that took so long, guys,” Cathy said, “you two made me nervous,” she pointed at you and Dom as she playfully leaned on Rhea, giggling.

“All good,” you said smiling but you were a bit upset about this whole interaction.

“C’mon baby,” a familiar tattooed hand reached out to you as her eyes caught yours, she could tell something was up.

You accepted and walked with her, following where ever she went. She led you to the hallway behind the Judgment Day’s locker room, “are you okay?”

You looked at the floor, “yeah,” you didn’t sound too convincing.

She picked your chin up, “no… I can tell something’s up, what’s wrong?”

You started to tear up but you didn’t let them fall, and the lump in your throat was definitely there, “nothing!” You realized how mean you sounded so you fixed your tone, “nothing, I’m okay.”

“You’re lying,” she was trying her best not to get angry at your tone, but her grip was tightening on your chin ever so slowly, “what’s. wrong?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” you said weakly.

She loosened her grip and cupped your cheek, rubbing your face with her thumb, “that’s fine, but we are going to talk about it later. You know I don’t like seeing you upset.”

“I know and we will, just not right now,” you placed your hand on hers, “I have to work it out myself, first.”

“Okay,” she gave you a small smile, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

She gave you a small kiss, “Damian should be back by now, want to go back in?”

You nodded your head as you followed her in.

The night came and went and you were finally heading back home. You had helped your girlfriend pack her things and put them in the truck before she drove the two of you back.

You rested your head on your hand on the middle console, dozing off so she didn’t bother you much on the ride home. Her free hand was gently placed on your thigh the whole way, sometimes gliding it up and down to make sure you knew she was there.

Once inside and after saying hello to the animals, “I think I’m ready to talk about it,” you said plopping yourself on the couch.

She followed and sat down next to you, “go ahead, baby,” she said as she propped her elbow on the back of the couch facing you.

“Okay,” you took a deep breath, “I don’t like…well, I-” you had all this time but you still couldn’t think of the right words to say.

She let you work it out and placed her hand on your knee as she watched you plan your words.

“I think Cathy likes you a little too much,” you finally say.

“I don’t think so,” she scoffed.

“I do, that’s why I was upset earlier. She’s pulls you away for forever, it seems like, and you barely have time to be around me, or the boys for that matter,” the words spilled out of you. “I feel as though that every time I’m around, she pulls you away for some post or tiktok just to get you away from me.”

“I don’t think that was her intention, love,” her voice was calm.

“And the way she touched you when she knew I was watching, ooh I almost jumped her,” your heart rate spiked as it replayed in you head.

“Woah now, I think you’re overthinking it, she’s a touchy person, she does that with everyone,” she was trying to play devils advocate but it wasn’t going too well.

“Not that I’ve seen!”

“I promise there is absolutely nothing going on between me and her,” both of her hands were now on your legs pushing into you to make her point more believable.

“Promise?” you put your hands on hers as you grimaced.

“One hundred percent,” her icy blue eyes stared into yours, “on Barry’s life.”

“Aw don’t bring him into this,” you watched as his ears perked up.

“Sorry bro,” she said to him, “But seriously I promise,” she smiled back at you.

“Okay,” you sighed with relief, “but the next time she touches you a little too friendly, I’m gonna-”

“Hey there, tough guy,” she held your hands from balling into fists, “don’t worry about her anymore and let’s take this energy out somewhere else, yeah?” she winked at you.

“Oh? What did you have in mind?” you smiled knowing her answer already.

“Why don’t you come and find out?” she stood as she used her finger to tell you to follow her to the bedroom.

#rhea ripley #wwe #rhea ripley x reader

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saintwyfe · 11 months

Text

࿐ ˚ . ✦ PROVE IT. jude bellingham

summary. a night out, gone lewd

cw. slightly toxic relationship, implied infidelity, cursing, alcohol consumption, nsfw [!!!]

wc. 1682

most relationships, or at least the ones we see today, always have that overprotective boyfriend and free-spirited girlfriend dynamic.

as much as you hated it, you were the jealous, possessive one in the relationship. always ordering him around, issuing the ‘don’t do that"s and the ‘why are you looking at her like that?"s.

at one point in the relationship, the roles were reversed. he’d always be the one kissing up on you in public, clinging his arms tightly around your waist to let the men in the room know you were his, and only his. it’s crazy how times have changed now, huh?

“i’m gonna go grab a drink. you care for one?” he ducked, hovering over your ear, before taking a last sip from his bottle.

you nodded your head. “i’m fine for now, thanks,” you replied, quickly adjusting the collar of his top. he nodded, and with that, he drifted towards the bar. you glanced off at him during his departure before scanning the rest of the club, filled with young people dancing to bouncy music.

to be honest, clubbing wasn’t your thing. maybe with the right group of people, it wouldn’t be that bad, but you're stranded for now. introverted you thought it was a somewhat-good idea to sway to the beat of the music while scrolling through instagram to not seem awkward. contrary to your plan, it did. and now, you were in the corner of the nightclub, pulling down your tiny cocktail dress that’d been riding up your thighs to some corny pop song. better than being stuck at home, right?

your eyes strayed from your bright phone screen for a second to check up on your boyfriend, just to make sure he wasn’t getting into trouble. and funny enough, you saw just that: his smiling, tall figure leaned up against the bar, giggling next to some short, dark-haired girl. your mouth dropped. you didn’t even want to hear the end of it.

in a fit of rage, you marched toward the entrance of the place, uber already pulled up on your phone. nothing else crossed your mind. just the image of him next to her. some skanky girl in a tacky, sequined dress. even thinking about it makes your fists ball up. to add to that, you looked ridiculous pacing the sidewalk bordering the club, getting glances from passersby as you waited for your uber, which at this point was a few minutes away.

your phone immediately buzzed after you found the location of your driver.

where are you?

i can’t find you

seen 2m ago

y/n?

i left

find your own way home

seen just now

thankfully, your uber had pulled up just in time. pulling the handle of the black sedan, you were ready to plunk down in the back seat and just sob.

“y/n?!” the club door scraped the pavement, a wave of loud music following a breeze of air hitting your skin. fuck. maybe if you just got in quick enough—

“where are you going?” he was quick to shout from behind you, his warm hand stationed upon yours on the car’s handle.

“home,” you replied, turning your head to face him from behind you. “i’m going home. just have fun by yourself, alright?”

he shook his head, scoffing. “are you serious?”

considering him looking so taken aback compared to your aloof face—it’s almost laughable knowing that he was just cozying up with another woman back at the bar. did he seriously think you didn’t know? like you didn’t just see that flirty interaction between the two?

you huff out a laugh. “jude, you’re seriously so funny,” you mocked, squinting up at the puzzled individual.

“what are you talking about? what the fuck’s gotten into you?” he spat.

“i’m sure the girl at the bar would keep you company ‘til you come home, yeah?” you click your tongue, a satirical smile spreading through your lips, before lowering your head into the back seat of the car.

but he had different plans.

you could almost feel your blood start to boil as his legs crept next to yours in the car as well.

you scoffed, throwing your head back. “what the fuck are you do—-”

“you can start driving now, sir,” he interrupted you mid-sentence, and contradicting the way he’d just been speaking to you just a minute ago, he kindly instructs your driver. you could almost feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head to his sudden change in mood.

and, bizarrely enough, he’s silent for the ride. his eyes glared at the road. the only sound was that of the car wheels on the street, the driver not daring to ask any questions.

“have a good night, mister,” you said to the guy behind the wheel as you shut the car door behind you. jude, who’d already been at the front door of your shared home, was tapping the keypad, eager to come home once and for all.

your heels tapped the pavement of your driveway. his cold gaze locked on you while he held the door open for your entry inside. you, on the other hand, are not daring to speak a word. yet, you couldn’t ignore the adrenaline rush happening inside of you. jude wasn’t the type to go to bed angry, even if it meant handling things in a different way.

“so what is it with you?” he inquired, his voice softer, less hostile than before. “you just think leaving without saying anything would solve anything?”

you jumped a bit, not expecting to exchange words—not at least in the foyer. slowly, you turned around to meet his seething eyes. his hands still grasp the door handle, and he’s anticipating an answer from you.

“i could ask you the same thing, jude,” you stared. “what were you doing with her? hm?”

in an instant, he shook his head, biting his lip to stifle his laugh.

“y/n, did you forget who i am? that i have a public career, and maybe she was just a fan?” all of a sudden, it just hit you. you could just annihilate yourself from the shame you held upon him tonight, but it was in the heat of the moment, and you gave yourself no time to think. and, god, you looked so dumb just accusing him of something so distasteful and unlike him.

“you think i’d just throw away our relationship for some girl at a club? no. i wouldn’t, y/n,” he added. “you’re mine, and only mine. understand?”

your eyes skimmed the floor, before meeting his dark brown irises. “then prove it.”

at once, his cold eyes turned ravenous.

“you don’t even know what you got yourself into,” he chuckled as he approached your figure. quickly, he locked his hand into your hair and pressed his lips against yours. he didn’t hold back on ambushing your lips. there was still liquor on his tongue, which you could still taste. his arm intertwined around your waist as you began heading upstairs, groans escaping his mouth as you two struggled to find your bedroom.

your back was pressed up against the cold doorframe of your shared room, and he, taking advantage of your state, sought to lace his arms under your thighs. you took notice of the queue and jumped onto them, making it easier for him to spill your body onto the edge of your bed once he’d opened the door. you found yourself giggling once he did, especially with your dress threatening to expose the risque areas of your body. his hands locked your wrists in place, and now you were just docile under his spell.

his kisses moved from your lips to your neck, leaving hickeys all over. his saliva around each bruise. you were a moaning mess, with his pace almost giving you whiplash.

his fingers traced your waist, unzipping your dress’s zipper from the sides and finding its way to the wooden floors once it was off. he’s heaving as he’s doing so, almost like a predator finally getting its prey. you hissed once his hands fondled your now exposed breasts, with no warning, whatsoever.

his eagerness doesn’t halt while he’s pulling off your panties. he gives you a quick, sinful glare as his head dips between your thighs. you propped yourself on your elbows while you anticipated what he’d be doing next.

“you’re so wet already, angel,” he purrs against your dribbling cunt. “such a fuckin’ slut for me.”

his tongue wraps around your pussy, giving you no signal or build-up. your back arches from the sudden contact, which quickly leaves you breathless. his eyes linger on you, watching as you go dumb from being tongue-fucked so hungrily. his arms twined around your thighs, leaving you almost powerless against him while he held you in place.

his tongue ran through your slit while his thumb simultaneously found itself toying with your clit. your moans were so loud and pornographic, and you quickly grew your orgasm.

“fuck, keep going, just like that, baby,” you cried. your hips found themselves grinding against his mouth. you were just growing so impatient, wanting to chase your high so desperately. your hands latched onto the bed sheets to distract yourself before cumming.

his tongue keeps swirling around your clit, your bud puffy and sensitive, while your thighs begin twitching. you could feel tears start to well up in your eyes—you were so close, and he could definitely tell by the way your legs started to tighten and clench around his head.

“jude, i’m gonna cum—” you yelped, throwing your head back and squeezing your eyes shut. right then, he pulled away, leaving you absent of your climax.

you gasped, anticipating so heavily to cum, but instead, you were left emptyhanded. you could almost cry then and there.

he coughed up a laugh, almost mocking you. “brats don’t get what they want, at least not without earning it.” he stood up, petting your hair.

“get on your knees.”

an: ntm on my amateur smut writing

#jude bellingham #football imagine #football fanfic #football imagines #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham smut #footballer smut #football smut

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non-stop-imagines · 10 months

Text

One Day

Based off of this request 💞

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Black Fem Driver!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k words

Warning: Fluff, sass, mention of alcohol (champagne), a few funny driver stereotypes 😁

A/N: I didn't expect to get this one done so quick, but I think I did okay. Thank you to @shhhchriss for being patient with me! 💞 You're so sweet and I hope you enjoy this piece. It was nice to write something fluffy after the smut I've been writing and before writing some more (even though I am excited for them 🤭). Anyway, I hope you like it and I hope everyone else likes it as well! Love you all!!💖💛💖💛

Masterlist

“How many more of these do we have?” You groan, flipping one of the two long braids you had your hair in, using your index finger to scratch your scalp beneath the intertwined hair, before leaning back into the couch in the McLaren motorhome, stretching out your legs and crossing them at your ankles.

“Stop your whining, you big baby.” Daniel, kicks your foot, signaling for you to give him some room for him on the couch, taking a swig of his water as he sits. “Your rookie-ness is showing. Always complaining about media days. They’re a necessary evil.” You just grunt again and drop your head onto his shoulder in annoyance, making his heart skip a beat. "This is the last one. They're calling it the That Type of Person Challenge."

"That's a terrible name...So, what, we just go down the grid and stereotype everyone? What will F1 think of next." You roll your eyes and lift your head from Daniel's shoulder, pull your legs up to sit criss crossed on the couch while you guys wait and pull your phone out to scroll.

"You talk to me about everyone else all the time. This should be easy for you." Daniel remedies the loss of contact from you lifting your head with lifting up one of your braids by the synthetic orange flower barrette that you had clipped on the end.

"Not nice." You swat at Daniel's hand without looking at him, so of course you didn't notice that he was staring at you, tracing your side profile in his mind as if to save it for later. Watching your eyelashes move with your eyelids as you read what's on your phone, the neutral pucker of your lips as you rest your face. It wasn't until you began to type out a text that you really started to feel his eyes on you, or more trying to see who you were texting. So you stop and swipe to your home screen then turn to glare at Daniel, first side eyeing him then turning your head in an exaggerated motion similar to that of an animatronic, blinking into an eyebrow scrunching glare. "What?"

"Nothing. I just-i-uh" His silent, frantic prayers for this moment to pass were answered by the media manager for Formula 1 coming in to take you guys to where the video would be filmed, on a balcony on an upper floor of the F1 paddock building. You still gave him a skeptical look before getting up and following the young man who explains the video to you two. Daniel was trailing behind you and the man, brooding as he watched him touch you to guide you first through the door. The flirting in the interaction between you and the man was exaggerated in Daniel's lovelorn brain, and he couldn't help but assert his position in your life, even if it was mainly teammate, by guiding you to the couch the filming camera faced immediately upon reaching the set, separating you and "Brian", the name that he only just figured out, as quickly as possible.

"What is going on with you?" You were looking at Daniel when you chastised his actions, but look toward the person handing you a small mic to clip to your orange McLaren polo, thanking the person while waiting for Daniel to answer.

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Daniel lies, tone purposefully unconvincing. He clips his mic to his polo, goofily grinning at you, breaking down the annoyance you've garnered through the day, which was in good timing since you had to turn on a certain amount of charisma to do this YouTube video. Soon it was time for the filming to start, getting one more short summary on the topic of the video and Daniel getting one last warning to behave before you guys are signaled to start. The video starts with a basic introduction, stating who you two were, the team you raced with and the grand prix you were at, small comments and jokes sprinkled through before it came time to explain what video was.

"Okay so what we are gonna do is go driver by driver and come up with whatever crazy thing sounds like something they would do without question. Something on brand for them." You tap the cards dawned with the names of drivers in your hand, preparing to read and think, startled when you hear Daniel's voice.

"There, new name for the challenge. On Brand." Daniel taps the top of your head with his card, showing a trademark smile when you look at him, which you happily return.

"There, the On Brand challenge. Let's get started." And so you guys do, making the oddest yet understandable claims about fellow drivers. Like that Max would give you a lecture about running around the pool before saving you from drowning, that Lando definitely watches Bluey as a comfort show, that Yuki is the type of guy to yell at a kid for taking the last of some food that he wanted, and that George was the type of guy to go see Oppenheimer and Barbie one after another on opening day.

"Okay, Yn. Yn is the type of girl who…" Daniel takes a moment to think, also taking the opportunity to look at you, admiring your face under the guise of being deep in thought. "Yn is the type of girl to, like, make you your favorite dish and then deny that she did so it doesn't seem like she cares too much."

"You suck." You glare at Daniel then look back at the camera, stifling a smile before looking away not making eye contact with anything in particular. "That is absolutely something I would do. Dang it." You were able to hold off a small laugh, but Daniel found your admittance more than amusing, letting out a loud chortle.

"Hey, no, my turn now." You turn to Daniel and point, twisting your upper body so you're basically facing him, one of your legs tucked beneath you. "Daniel Ricciardo…" It takes Daniel all his might to stop himself from kissing a scrunched eyebrow on your thinking face, waiting for your judgment of him. "Okay, this may not be as good as his, but, Daniel is the type of guy to do a shoey on his wedding day, and force his poor wife to do it with him."

"Oh, I absolutely would. Thank you for the idea." He first speaks to the camera and then looks back at you. "Have you done one before?"

"Uh, no. I have not because I refuse to drink…anything from where my foot has been." You shake your head frantically, sharing your attention with Daniel and the camera.

"You'll do one, one day. I'll make sure of it." He gave you a different smile, one that started of a knowing grin that then morphed into the toothy smile everyone knows and loves.

"No, absolutely not." Now you were only looking at Daniel, shaking your head still.

"You all heard it hear folks, there will be a day where Yn does a shoey and you will all witness it, one way or another." Daniel points his stack of cards at the camera, not looking at you for your input, before moving the one on top to the bottom of the pile to see that the stack was done and tossing them away as he plunges right into the outro. You could see from behind the camera one of the people from F1 facepalm themself, probably the person in charge of keeping the cards together, but your focus was still on that last interaction, the amount of truth and feeling Daniel joked with, like he really had a plan to get you to do a shoey that coincided with the stereotype you came up with for him. Before getting up from the couch after hearing the people behind the camera say that you guys were good to go, you stopped Daniel and pointed at the cards on the ground.

"Pick those up." You cock your eyebrow at him, and though you try to use intimidation to get him to pick up the cards, he keeps a satisfied grin on his face as he bends down to pick up them up.

"Sorry. Sorry" The first "Sorry" was quieter, directed only towards you, making sure you knew he didn't entirely mean to be this chaotic, he was just excited about the idea you gave him. The second "Sorry" was directed at the crew behind the camera, who dismissed his actions with varying levels of laughter.

___________________~★~___________________

3 Years Later

"I can't believe I'm doing this." You lift the bottom of the skirt of your white, A-line dress and remove a white, satin heel, barefoot landing on the ground outside the large, rustic double doors closing of a decorated ballroom full of people.

"I can. I said you would do it one day, and one thing I am not is a liar." You try hard to be annoyed at your, now husband's, nonchalant answer but the dazzling, goofy smile he shows up at you completely melts you. You sigh contently as you watch Daniel pull off his black dress shoe, and pick up the champagne bottle next to him.

"You're lucky I love you." You squint at him then flash an adoring grin at him.

"I know." He turns to you, eyes slowly scanning over the face of the woman he can now call his wife, brown eyes and brown skin glowing under the twinkle lights hanging around the entrance of the door, the red tint of your lips that entice him to kiss them, which he does, placing slow sensual smacks, hoping that he was able to transfer some of the red from your lips to his own, branding himself your husband.

"Oh, wait. Here." You reach up to wipe the lipstick that transferred but Daniel leans his head away.

"Leave it." The private moment between you two was soon interrupted by the noise in the ballroom getting louder, both of you realizing that the doors had been cracked open.

"Well, here we go." You gather up your dress again with your free hand, smiling when you feel one more kiss pressed into your neck.

"Okay, folks. I want you all to help me in welcoming, for the first time, Mr. And Mrs. Ricciardo!" You and Daniel enter to the cheers of your family and friends from over the years, sparklers to the side of the double doors illuminating your entrance. Daniel takes the elbow of the arm holding your dress to guide you to the middle of the dance floor. Once you guys reach your destination, in gleeful marital bliss, Daniel pours a helping of sparkling alcohol in his and your shoes, which, after cheers-ing, you both down, causing more cheers and applause to erupt. After drinking, and shaking your head after truly realizing what you just did, Daniel tips your head up to kiss you, which you happily return.

"You called it." You yell-whisper in his ear, trying to talk over all of the celebration around you two.

"I called it." That smile shines at you one more time before you're pulled into another kiss and the wedding reception truly gets underway.

#black reader #request #f1 x black!reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x black!reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel Ricciardo x black reader #f1 imagines #f1 fic #daniel ricciardo imagine

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teyamsatan · 7 months

Text

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ xɪɪɪ - ɪɴ ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ

pairing: neteyam x human!reader

➽ a/n: finally, a new drabble! i'm actually quite happy with this one, and you better read until the end for a (hopefully) nice surprise! ly besties, smooches and xoxos

➽ words: >700 words

➽ warnings: it goes without saying, but all of these works (kinktober-related) are smut and therefore minors should NOT interact with them. other warnings include: fingering, tiny little degradation, tiny bit of praise

➽ taglist (x) ➽ kinktober masterlist (x)

A moan - small and insignificant, you thought, pushing past your plump lips like the air through the trees on a particularly stormy night. But he heard it, and that was enough for the movement to cease, enough for the pleasure bubbling up in your core to dissipate almost as quickly as it began. A shiver - down your spine, at his hushed purring words, his voice sweet like honey and molten like the lava in the Pandoran volcanoes you’ve only but heard about and envisioned in dreams and fantasies.

“What did I say happens if you make a noise?”

A sharp inhale - looking around the room, where Na’vi and humans stood alike, focused intently on the motion picture displayed clearly on a big projector. Like in a cinema, you were told. Humans love movies, they go out of their ways to experience them the way they were intended, and Norm insisted - no movies unless on a proper screen. It was nice. A stepping stone in the right direction, in the continuous if not a bit unrelenting desire to improve intra-species relationships and merge the now two coexisting words. So maybe what you were doing now was good, right? Cooped up under a blanket in between your best friend’s thighs, his fingers knuckle deep in your soaking cunt, hitting spots inside of you you didn’t even know were possible, his thumb drawing circles on your clit… It’s progress, right? You’re… building up rappor with the Omaticaya… right?

A promise of four purple bruises - as his hand digs into your hip, willing you for an answer you didn’t want to give him, because if you did, it would mean facing harsh reality.

“Answer me, yawne.”

Whispered touches on your folds - as he teases you with the promise of more, as he tortures you with the lack of it. It’s heaven and hell, just like his whole entire being is. Neteyam was the perfect man, an angel on paper - sent from above to heal, to mend, to be everything anyone’s ever wanted of him. The perfect son. The perfect soldier. The perfect sibling. The perfect friend. The devil in actuality- like he was now, in the confines of the privacy you normally found yourselves in when like this, desperate to own you, possess you, eager to strip you of your clothes and sanity layer by layer until you were nothing but a fucked-out shell of who you were at the beginning of the night, until you were begging him to stop… until you were begging him for more.

“S-stop. You said you’d… stop.”

A low chuckle - evil and mischievous, filled with underlying ache and a deep desire to put you over his knee and show you how good girls are supposed to behave. Later. Right now, he wants to see you squirm, he wants to hear you struggle to keep that pretty little mouth shut as he makes you come on his fingers over and over, until you’re squirting and mewling and crying, until you inevitably fail and he has to watch you scramble for a lie, stumble on your words as you say to the people watching in confusion that the movie was just that emotional.

“That’s right. So what am I supposed to do now, mm?”

A whine - desperate and pitiful, as you grind on his drenched fingers, looking for any relief, any friction that could alleviate the emptiness in you. The chuckle was a full blown laugh now, perfectly matched to a particularly funny scene in the movie. It wasn’t weird when everybody else laughed, too, right? Neteyam couldn’t have told anyone asking what was going on on the screen if they paid him, and well, he was glad because this… this was so, so much better.

“Keep go…argh! Keep going, fuck!”

A moan - as he enters you again, two of his large fingers stretching you like a dream, hitting spots inside of you you didn’t even know existed. All of a sudden the world, this room, they were null in your mind, and you were alone with just him, with just these feelings and the man who was making them real, with the orgasm you felt rapidly approaching and what you knew would be the beginning of a long, long night.

“There we go. My little slut, taking my fingers so well. Maybe it’s time to give this people a real show, huh… Vol?”

taglist: @pandoraslxna @sulieykte @blue-slxt @eywaeveng @neteyamsikran @elenamoncada-ibarra @spicymayyo @itsjazzsworld @daddysmurfslefttoenail @eyrina-avatar @iameatingmyhair @hadesbabygurl@linydoll @the-mourning-moon @kasai-https @dvxsja (if your tag doesn't work pls check your settings x)

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showtoonzfan · 1 year

Text

So we know Stella probably won’t have anything to her in the new episode other than “evil bitch”, but honestly….I’ve been thinking about what this one YouTuber had said about her, and it was that Stella and Stolas have no relationship….and…..guess what? They’re exactly right, they really don’t. Their relationship is so shallow, we have no idea how Stolas feels about Stella outside of the bullshit we’re told of him apparently trying to make it work, and she just…doesn’t like him and is trying to kill him. That’s it, there’s no in between or depth to their relationship. There’s nothing regarding how they take care of Octavia, there’s nothing on how they felt about the arranged marriage, we never even get to SEE them interact outside of Stella just popping up occasionally here and there for the writers to show how much of a bitch she is and move on. She calls him boring and complains, that’s it. We don’t know how they work together or what that dynamic is, there’s no exploration on how they handle royal business together, there’s just no insight, ESPECIALLY from Stella’s perspective because god forbid we have an episode that doesn’t revolve around Stolas, Blitz or Moxxie.

It doesn’t help that their dynamic is also all over the place. They go from being in a bad spot and the family being miserable because of the cheating, to flat out domestic abuse, to despising each other and pettily snapping back at the other, arguing constantly. Like yeah it’s clear they don’t LIKE each other, but these two are supposed to be married and in the royal family, and yet they have no chemistry or clear dynamic at all because the show doesn’t know how to develop and explore relationships/character dynamics outside of quick witty banter. How do they treat each other on a normal day? How do they interact? How did they work together when Stella was still at the house and Octavia was around? We clearly see they would go to Loo Loo land, they would sit as a family at the dinner table in Harvest Moon, we clearly hear that by Octavia’s point of view, she has SOME kind of relationship with her mother, and we see portraits of them together.

There’s obviously a family dynamic going on and yet the writing is so one sided. It neglects Stella and Octavia’s elements completely, and only focuses on how Stolas treats his daughter, nothing else. It’s amazing how Viv claims she’s trying to go for a complex two sided relationship where fans can debate who’s in the right or not, and yet the actual show is shallow and flat AF. You want to learn about Stella and Octavia’s dynamic? Too bad! You want to learn about Stella and how her childhood and being married was? Too bad! You want to learn how Stolas and Stella worked together as a married duo and how they raised Octavia? Too bad! You want to see if there were any good areas to their relationship? Too bad! Just know that Stolas is an uwu soft boi who loves his daughter, and Stella is the evil nasty bitch who wants to torture her husband! That’s all you need to know! And I’d say “let the show play out”, but again….judging by the leaks the show has no interest in fleshing Stella or her story out more, and I find it so funny that fans are able to somehow come up with essay videos or “deep dives” into Stolas and Stella’s relationship when there’s just nothing there. It’s flat, and what you see on the surface is what it is. Stella is just evil and Stolas is just good. Their relationship has no nuance or depth at all, and Stella doesn’t need to be a good person or sympathetic to accomplish that. Just fucking show us their relationship and what they went through outside of just Stella being mean and Stolas being miserable or rolling his eyes, but we all know I’m asking the show WAY too much because that would actually require non bias writing and dedication to a character that isn’t Stolas himself.

#vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #helluva critical #stella goetia #helluva boss Stella #helluva boss Stolas #writing #helluva boss octavia

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lestappenforever · 8 months

Note

Hi. I feel like you are the only person I can send Lestappen asks so here goes another one.

First of all have you seen that video of Max playing footsie with Checo? I hope you have because it’s so funny to me how he realized he had accident tapped his teammate’s foot but Checo didn’t react so he did it intentionally to make sure he laughed.

Now what got me is the fact that not long ago he [Max] was playing footsie with Charles albeit unknowingly but when he realized he got all awkward about it. It’s so glaring that I started realizing other little things like the way Max will talk to Lando or Carlos or Daniel, heck everyone else on the grid about something is all so different from how he is with Charles. There’s always some sort of shyness, awkwardness, too much staring and thoughtfulness put into everything involving Charles. And yeah it may sound like I’m biased but I didn’t ship them like that for the longest time but the footsie thing made me think about all the little moments they share and how they are different from how they are with everyone else. The same can be said for Charles and how he is with Max via-à-vis other people.

Could you do a comparison, pleeease? 😘

I feel so honored, seriously.

I have seen the video with Checo, but not the one with Charles? So please send me the link because I need to see it immediately or else I will spontaneously combust.

"Could you do a comparison, pleeease?😘" <<< Oh, babe. Honey. My darling anon. You will regret this, and I am so sorry.

(Putting this under a 'Read More' for everyone's sake.)

Now, before I get further into this I just need to make a few things very clear: 1. I am a monogamous shipper, meaning that once I ship someone, I am incapable of shipping those people with someone else. I am actually kind of jealous of people who are capable of shipping the same person with multiple people because the amount of content you get, my God. Now, this does not mean that I don't get other ships or that I have any sort of issue with other ships because I definitely don't. It simply means that in my head, once two people are paired together in a ship, that's it. They're it for each other as far as my brain is concerned. 2. This post does not mean that I genuinely believe Max and Charles are in a secret relationship, nor does it mean that I genuinely believe they ever will be. The point of shipping, as far as I'm concerned, is that it's fun and lighthearted. It's something that brings a lot of joy to a lot of people, and it's something that is very easy to enjoy.

Now, prepare for a rant.

I believe you are right on the money, anon, and this is exactly why I ship Lestappen. They have the sort of vibe and chemistry between them that I just don't see them having with anyone else.

Let's start with Daniel, who is the obvious first choice: There is no denying how close he is with Max, but the feeling I get with those two is that they are two dude bros who are just so comfortable with each other and such good friends that nothing feels weird. They can joke about literally anything, no matter how inappropriate, no matter how sexual, and it's just funny. They have exactly the kind of familiarity you would see between two best friends, and they have no aversion to getting up close and personal with each other. There's no awkwardness between them whatsoever, and for that reason they just give me those frat boy vibes that I absolutely adore in a friendship. Watching them interact is hilarious at any given time.

As for Lando and Carlos, Max displays the same sort of ease that he has whenever he's interacting with Daniel, although obviously not at the same level, and more so with Lando than Carlos. Max has said it himself: Lando is literally his best friend on the grid, and they also don't seem to have any sort of aversion to physical touch: slapping each other's asses, being in each other's space, and generally displaying an easy sort of comfort you'd expect to see between really close friends. It's never awkward or weird, it's simply funny and comfortable, and it's so blatantly obvious how much they enjoy each other's company, both on and off the grid.

With Carlos, Max obviously shares the history of them being teammates at Toro Rosso, and although they weren't exactly best friends at the time (now if that isn't an understatement right there), they were both young and — like most young boys, let's be honest — stupid. Hot-headed, stubborn and arrogant, which typically doesn't lead to the best relationship in a sport that is as competitive as F1, especially not when you're in your teens. However, both Max and Carlos have grown up a lot since then, and now they seem to have developed a genuine friendship based on mutual respect and a history long since passed, and they seem comfortable around each other. Like with Daniel and Lando, there doesn't seem to be any awkwardness or underlying current of something tied to their interactions.

Now, with Charles, it's just different. And not just for Max, because Charles seems to have a very specific way of behaving around Max that I just haven't seen when he's around Lando, Carlos, Pierre, or anyone else on the grid. There are so many interactions in which both Charles and Max just seem giddy whenever they're around each other — you know, the kind of giddy you get when you're talking to somebody you have a crush on and you're not quite sure how to deal with it? Take this moment here in Bahrain 2022, for example. The quick looks, the smiles. If that isn't how you look at your fucking crush, then I don't know what is. Or this moment, with Charles rubbing at the back of his neck and looking all bashful after interacting with Max. Like, sir, what the fuck?

Whenever they interact, they don't display that same kind of comfort that they do with others, especially the other drivers already mentioned, but does this stop them from interacting? No. Does it deter them from seeking each other out practically every chance they get? Absolutely not. In fact, they seem to gravitate towards each other most of the time just like their hands always seem to gravitate towards each other's waists as soon as they're within touching distance for photos, and how other people briefly cease to exist once the two of them are engaged in conversation. Hell, I refer to Checo as Du-du-du-du-du-du-du Steve (Checo) and Third wheel Checo in my tags for a reason. (The things poor Checo has been forced to put up with when it comes to these two, including this cooldown room earlier this year.)

Oh, and did I mention Max literally interrupting Charles mid-interview in Bahrain at the beginning of the 2022 season, and Charles seemingly completely forgetting that he was being interviewed and keeping the conversation going, despite the fact that it's rude as fuck? Christ, how anyone puts up with them at this point is actually incredible.

There are also the numerous moments of intense eye contact while they're mid-conversation, the way Charles will remember the tiniest mention of Max from his engineer during a race and then bring it up, and Max fucking lighting up like a Christmas tree when he gets the chance to talk to Charles about it, and the way Charles is licking his lips before he realizes he's being recorded by Max. And anon, don't even get me started on their obsession with holding each other's waists as if that is a totally normal thing to be obsessed about with your emotional support rival. (Don't mind us, just gonna stand here and hold each other's waist while waiting for the others.)

Look, I am the absolute worst at keeping track of gifs and videos, which is probably for the best because if I was better at it, this would turn into a goddamned thesis, but there are just an endless supply of moments between Max and Charles where the vibe is just so far from being like the vibe either of them seem to have with any other driver on the grid. There is an underlying weirdness/awkwardness/shyness between the two of them that just screams "teenagers with a crush" for me, and that's why it's so easy for me to ship them. (And why it's impossible for me to ship either of them with someone else.)

#Asks #Anon #Anon asks #Lestappen

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sunshinebingo · 4 months

Text

The Things Autumn Did To Me

Merry Christmas @thelov3lybookworm!!! 🎁 It has been so nice to meet you through @acotargiftexchange and I had a great time secretly interacting with you. I had a lot of fun experimenting with your gift too (you and I have a lot in common btw 😌). I really hope that you will enjoy the slight mess that is this fic 🤭

***

Synopsis: Two months into their convenient marriage and Gwyneth and Azriel still have very strong feelings for each other. Is it really the hate that they claim it to be, or something else? Not even they can tell.

However, another chance at tackling the failed mission that has led them to where they are will make the two spies face something that they have both been afraid of. After all, the line separating hate from desire can be very thin.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warning: None for this chapter

Find the Masterlist here

Read Chapter 1 on Ao3 or below the cut

“Wife,” he sneered.

“Husband,” she sneered back.

Azriel walked to end of the table and sat down, carefully adjusting his wings behind him.

“Glad to see that you are still alive,” he said, pulling the plate that his wife had already filled for him closer.

“Glad to know that I am still the funny one,” Gwyn replied without looking up from her own plate.

Morning greeting, checked. Daily verification that his partner was still breathing, checked. What was left to do before breakfast? Ah right... Check the food for poison. His shadows made a sweep around the table, ensuring that nothing would lead to him dropping sick or dead.

When he finally raised his cup of tea to his lips after their quick inspection, his eyes landed on a pair of teal ones across the table. Azriel internally shuddered at Gwyn’s piercing gaze and at how her lips turned into a feline smirk.

“It will happen when you least expect it,” she said, then dug a knife into her pancakes.

Azriel snorted. As if she could sneak past his trusty shadows. They might have an odd affection for her – unlike their master – but they were still loyal to him. Many believed that, being a Shadowsinger, Azriel had full control over his shadows. He refrained from letting others know that they also tended to have a mind of their own. Like the little wisp which was currently ignoring him and was slowly making its way between the bowl of fruit and the teapot to reach her.

Gwyn’s eyes followed the movement of the shadow until it reached her hand and started swirling around her fingers, especially the one adorned with a silver band – a perfect match to the one on his own ring finger – that glinted against her pale, freckled skin. Her smile softened for the shadow in a way it never did for him.

While she watched the shadow, Azriel watched her. The rich copper hair that was put up in a very messy bun atop her head with random strands that escaped and which fell around her face, her pointed ears where she wore several simple studs, her nose and cheeks across which lay a scattering of freckles, as if someone had tossed them with a careless hand, her plump lips, her eyes. Those bright eyes that had unsettled him from the very first time he had looked into them. A depthless teal ocean that often seemed like they could see straight through him. Gwyn was a creature of cruel beauty and Azriel hated her more for it.

When she looked up from the shadow playing with her hand, Azriel lowered his eyes to his food before she could see the thoughts that he always tried his hardest to hide in her presence.

“Is there something on my face?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied, stirring his tea despite having added nothing to it.

“Well,” she went on, unable to stay quiet for long, as always. “What is it?”

“You look...” the shadows whispered an assortment of words though none that he was willing to use. Instead, he responded with, “...like you slept in a tree.”

Gwyn let out a snicker. “That would certainly be better than trying to sleep while listening to your pacing all night.”

It took him a few seconds to understand and none more to feel stupid about it. The endless pacing had nothing to do with the work he did at this hour and everything to do with him trying to focus while also attempting to block out the sound of her thumping heart and that of her mumblings while she slept. His office was right above her bedroom on the third level and he had selfishly never stopped to think that she might hear him walking around on the wooden floor when he could hear her too. He had tried to work in other rooms instead but the pestering of his shadows and their insistence to be close to her was even more annoying. At least in his office they shut up and contended themselves with spreading on the floor while listening to her.

It was the first time in the whole two months since they had been living together that she was mentioning it. Surprising of her since she often found something to complain about him. He did the same but, unlike hers, his complaints about her were at least justified.

“Some Spymaster you are,” she mumbled around a mouthful, “Not even able to walk without raising the dead.”

Azriel looked up at her and smirked. “I do it on purpose to piss you off.”

Gwyn swallowed her food. Her face remained impassive when she spoke again. “You do that well enough by just existing.”

He did not respond. He only held her gaze, risking getting lost in her ocean eyes, until footsteps were heard entering the dining room and someone cleared their throat.

“A letter arrived from the Prince of Autumn,” Roslin, their maid and one of the very few persons aware of the truth behind their union, announced and handed an envelope to Gwyn. Roslin had been Gwyn’s trusted maid when she lived in the Forest House. She was also a spy and had helped Gwyn with maintaining her second identity in the Autumn Court by covering up her secret activities. She offered Roslin her thanks with a usual friendly smile before the maid left the dining room.

“What is it?” Azriel asked, eyes narrowed on the folded paper that Gwyn took out of the envelope.

“Hopefully something that will get me as far away from you as possible.”

Her comment suddenly made him want to spend his entire day being as close to her as he could. Not because he liked her company whatsoever. Their shared mission already ensured that they spent a ridiculous amount of time together. Including sharing a house and attempting to look like an oh so happy couple in public.

“I’m afraid, dear wife, that no one can get rid of me so easily. Least of all you.”

Azriel had learned a great deal since they sealed their marriage two months ago. He obviously learned a lot about Gwyn. And, surprisingly, a lot about himself too, especially his patience and tolerance of her.

Gwyn placed the empty envelope on the table, picked up a little spoon and brandished it at Azriel as though it was a dagger. “I could kill you with this,” she narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m trembling,” he deadpanned. The shadows snickered around him.

He had always taken pride in his infinite patience. That was one of the qualities that made him the best at his job. But somehow, the female sitting across from him, reading her letter as if she wasn’t the bane of his existence, had found ways to challenge almost all of his skills, including his ability to remain calm under any circumstance, and also his ability to charm any female and male alike. That last skill would not be of much use anymore anyway since, to the rest of the world, all of it was now supposed to be reserved for Gwyn only. His wife. The one who made him lose his godsdamned mind in every possible way.

It was not as though he had ever seduced anyone in hope of anything more but a few hours of pleasure. His family thought that he refused to commit to a serious relationship, much less marriage, because his job was too dangerous to rope a potential partner in such things. Being the Spymaster and non-official torturer of his court made Azriel do things that most would cower to do and put him in dangers few were willing to face.

The reality was that Azriel did not want anyone to feel shackled to him. Although he had witnessed many successful relationships in his life, including the couples in his found family, his childhood had left more scars on him than those on his burned hands. He had witnessed what a monster his sire had been to his mother. For so long Azriel had feared that his resemblance to the cruel male might be more than physical. He feared that the beast he became when he tortured for the protection of his court might scare away a partner, or even worse, hurt them. So, instead of taking the risk, he preferred to block out the possibility of finding out altogether.

His several centuries as a spy might have made him an expert in the art of seduction, but he was empty handed when it came to true romantic feelings. Azriel doubted anyone with a bit of common sense would willingly stay with him if they knew how little he knew about love. Save for his family, the one with which he was related in every way except for blood, he had never let anyone close enough to his heart to feel such things. That was why he had been more than a little nervous when Rhysand and Eris had suggested this marriage, despite being aware that it was one of convenience. Imposed was a better word than suggested. Though even if Rhysand was his High Lord, Azriel could have still been opposed to his brother’s orders. But he did see the necessity of the situation, especially for Gwyn.

Since she was herself a spy, he knew that Gwyn had also seen her fair share of danger and blood. He knew what she also had to do to protect her court. Being from the Autumn Court and secretly acting with Eris against her High Lord for the greater good of Prythian, Azriel knew that her position had been more precarious than his. For Gwyn, this marriage was not just to keep plotting against Beron to put Eris on the throne. It was also to save her life. If the High Lord of Autumn found out that the lady who had lived in his home her whole life was a spy trying to bring him down, death would prove to be a small mercy for her.

For most, it might seem like their paths had crossed at one of the High Lord and Ladies’ meeting in Autumn, which also involved important members of all the seven courts and had fallen so deeply in love that they had been married in the same week.

The truth was that they had met several times before that to exchange information about what Beron was up to behind closed doors. Gwyn was the one who Eris trusted to pass on information about his father’s secret plans. She had been like a beam in the night on their first meeting in a wood bordering her court. She had looked like she had been crafted by the capable hands of the Mother herself.

Gwyn had also looked like she was not happy at all with the new secret alliance between the Night Court and the Autumn Prince. Azriel had not been either. Even now, he was still suspicious of Eris’ true intentions when it came to this alliance. Azriel despised the arrogant Prince. He despised Autumn Court and anything that had to do with it. He had never wanted to work alongside one of them, but fate had apparently decided otherwise.

“I bet you would read that thing faster if it was smut,” he complained when she remained silent while her eyes kept going back and forth on the letter.

Gwyn looked up at him with another scowl. “Shut up and quit distracting me.”

With a flicker of her hand, she summoned a small golden flame that she then ran across the ivory page. She read the hidden message that Eris had left there for her before burning the entire letter along with the envelope.

“It’s an invitation from Eris,” she finally explained. “Autumn Solstice is being held at the Forest House in a week.”

Azriel cursed. As a former member, it was natural for the redhead to be invited to celebrate with the rest of her home court. But looking at Gwyn, he saw what she was not saying. This event would be their second, possibly last chance to get a hand on Beron’s plans and avoid a possible war, or at least prepare for an eventual one. Something else also shone in his wife’s eyes. A determination that this time, they would not fail. They should not. This marriage had been a last resort to hide Gwyn’s secret identity. It had been the only plan that Eris could come up with to get his cousin out of reach of his father before this one could start questioning her presence so close to his private quarters and start to suspect her.

“Well, my broody bat.”

Azriel rolled his eyes. Gwyn picked a bunch of grapes from the bowl and observed one carefully before popping it into her mouth. “I hope you’re ready to have some fun.”

“We’re going there on a mission Berdara. Not to party.”

Gwyn shrugged. “Who says one has to exclude the other.”

The two of them had different approaches to spying. Azriel preferred to keep to the dark. His shadows allowed him to remain unseen and unheard even in plain sight. He had always been the quiet kind of person, picking up clues by silently observing while his shadows searched for what was out of his reach. Gwyn, on the other, was the complete opposite. While she could also hide in plain sight, her talent was that of deception. She could have been a shape shifter with how easily she could adapt to and blend into any situation.

“How do you propose we do that?” he asked.

She pushed her empty plate aside and propped her elbows on the table.

“Well your shadows could signal us when the time is right.” She lifted the hand where a shadow was once again twirling in between her fingers and down her wrist.

“We’ll then pretend to sneak away to do what we were doing last time.”

Azriel’s fork stopped midway to his mouth. His shadows circled him excitedly, chanting their glee at Gwyn’s plan.

On the evening that had led to their current situation, Gwyn and Azriel were on a common mission to infiltrate Beron’s quarters to try and retrieve some incriminating documents about the High Lord of Autumn. These would have been the perfect proof to put Beron on trial for his actions against peace in Prythian. Unfortunately, a few wrong moves had led to them being caught where no one should have been. The only thing that had saved them then had been to act as if they had been a second away from having sex.

Azriel still remembered every single detail of it, from the very first second that Gwyn had grabbed his shirt and had pulled him down against her. He remembered how it had felt to have her in his arms, how her lips had moved fervently against his as if her life depended on it, which it did. If he closed his eyes, he could recall how her hands had felt as she had glided them across his chest, his arms, on his neck and the way she had tugged at the roots of his hair. How urgent those same hands had been when she had pull him closer by hooking a finger at the seam of his pants. The sounds she had made when his tongue had tangled with hers had been louder than the approaching footsteps of the guards. Perhaps it was in that exact moment, where his mission had shifted from those documents to her, that his shadows had started to become obsessed with her. More so than they had been since they started meeting for a few brief minutes to exchange information.

Everyone knew that Autumn Court faeries had fire in their veins. But only then had Azriel learned what the rumours were truly about. If a kiss that was devoid of feelings and which was only meant to fool the guards was like that, then Azriel did not even want to think about what a real kiss from her would be like. He refused to imagine it. The fake one had burned a big enough hole in him. Glancing at the Autumn female across the table, Azriel cursed her for having ruined every kiss he ever had before and certainly all others that he could have had if he was not bound to her.

“Or,” he proposed to prevent himself from spiralling deeper into their backstory and what it was doing to him. “We can just pretend to leave.”

Gwyn looked at him like he had said the stupidest thing ever. The last time he followed her lead had resulted in them getting married. What would happen this time? Would Eris find a random child that they would be forced to raise together to keep up their disguise? Azriel’s thoughts quieted when a shadow rushed from where it was hovering beside his left wing to remind him of what had prompted her to kiss him and he reluctantly agreed to the reasoning behind it.

He went on explaining the paths that they could take around the Forest House to avoid running into anyone if they followed his plan and how his shadows would help in the process.

“Well?”

He waited for her opinion when he finished.

“Huh? Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

Azriel closed his eyes and sighed. Fucking Autumn courts and their fucking hard heads. Fucking wife and her fucking stubbornness.

“You come up with something then, smart-ass.”

She started to open her mouth but Azriel cut her off. “Something that does not involve fucking in Beron’s quarters.”

Gwyn huffed. Her cheeks started to turn pink, probably from the fire coursing through her and which seemed to run hotter at every outburst. “I wasn’t about to say that, you dimwit.”

Azriel gave her another roll of his eyes before returning to his food. Gwyn said nothing more. Yet by looking at her face, the emotions that he was still learning to read there, Azriel could see the gears of her mind working. She remained like this for the whole time that he finished his breakfast.

When he was done, he rose from his chair and walked to her. He grabbed her chin between his thumb and index and lifted her head until she looked at him.

“We have a week to come up with a solid plan. There’s no need to fry up your head over this right away.”

He suspected that she was worried about going back while there were still talks about her. Leaving the Forest House was not so simply done without a proper reason after all, especially for someone who had been raised there. Several rumours had already rose about the lady who had so hastily left her home to settle in the Night Court with the infamous Shadowsinger. His reputation in Rhys’ inner circle alone had fuelled the suspicions of more than one person, including Beron.

Azriel dragged his thumb along the seam of her lips, right where a trace of the syrup from her pancakes was still glistening.

“You’ll need that brain of yours to come up with more creative insults for me. The ones you currently have are terrible,” he added.

Gwyn brought a hand to the one that held her face. She slowly wrapped her long fingers around his wrist without looking away from his face. More pink spread across her cheeks and made her freckles stood out. Azriel badly wanted to know what she was truly hiding behind those eyes in this moment.

“Can you please do something for me, my dear husband?” her voice came out like a soft breeze singing in the night. Azriel had the reflex to stop his wings from twitching.

“What is it?”

He convinced himself that his breathlessness had nothing to do with that voice which was sweeter than the sticky syrup on his finger. Her hand tightened around his wrist.

“Throw yourself off a cliff,” she gritted out and forcefully yanked his hand away. Gone was the sweet, melodic voice. Her chair made a loud screeching sound as she pushed it back and stood.

Azriel held in a chuckle when she raised her chin and stomped off of the living room. “See you later, my annoying husband.”

He followed her as he made his way to his room. “Sure, my petulant wife.”

They went up the stairs and reached the door to her room first. Gwyn paused with a hand on the handle. “Don’t miss me too much, my haughty husband.” She opened the door and walked inside.

Azriel stood at the threshold of her bedroom with his arms crossed and a smirk on his lips. “You wish, my Autumn witch.”

Gwyn’s returning smile was as wicked as a witch’s. “I know you will.” And she slammed the door in his face.

To Be Continued...

#acotar gift exchange #acotar secret santa 2023 #gwynriel #marriage of convenience #haters to ... stay tuned to find out #some spying #some banter #some angst #some smut and fluff #azriel shadowsinger #gwyneth berdara #gwyn x azriel #azriel x gwyn #gwynriel fic

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