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queen-of-fanfics · 11 months

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I Told You To Stay

Pairing: Peter Pan x Reader

Prompt: Peter told you to stay.

A/N: Ayoooo lol I'm alive. Anywho Y'ALL I GRADUATED COLLEGE and the first thing I accomplished after was writing this fanfic. How have y'all been? Now I have some free time and a desk job so I have time to write more. I literally got the idea for this scenario from a dream I had. So... This one gets a little heated but nothing explicit.

I Told You To Stay Part 2

"Where do you think you're going?" Peter teases you as he grabs your arm to spin you around.

You were the second Lost Girl to have ever made it to the island. The first will always be Wendy. Wendy continues to be the mother figure around the island while you were free to run off hunting and exploring with the Lost Boys. You could never shake the feeling that either Wendy hated you or envied you. She would be stuck cooking and caring for the boy while you were almost like a sister. You two never got along too well, the feeling of competition was always there.

The second that you came to the island and met everyone, it was no surprise that Peter was the one that caught your eye.

However, you were always hesitant to let any hope blossom in you since you thought that Peter and Wendy were together. And if they weren’t, she would have first dibs on him anyway. But that fact never stopped your crush and admiration of him from growing. Day in and day out, you were running through the forests with him and protecting the Lost Boys together.

Tonight was a quiet and warm night and everyone had had their dinners and was heading to bed. Wendy had made dinner and stayed back at the camp to clean up. You were heading towards your cabin before Peter grabbed your arm.

“You aren’t going to bed already, are you?” Peter asked with his usual smirk.

“Why, huh? You got something in mind worth my while?”

“Only one way to find out, I suppose.” He hides his smile from you as he leads you into the forest. That leads to where you are now. Running through the trees and climbing up the cliff as Peter is bounding off in front of you.

Coming to a stop behind Peter, you drop your hands to your knees and your head drops to start gasping for air. “Are we there yet? I feel like my lungs are going to explode!”

All of a sudden you’re squealing in delight because Peter ran over to you and scooped you into the air, carrying you bridal style. He takes off flying and your arms shoot out and wrapped around his neck.

“What are you doing?!”

“Taking you up to see the stars!” He yelled over the whistling wind as you continued laughing until tears formed in your eyes.

Daring to peek over his shoulders, you gasp at the beautiful aerial view of the island before he dives and does a giant loop in the air. Hugging him close, you shove your face into his neck and breathe in his scent. Though the night was cool, you felt warm against him. Wanting this moment to last forever but you know it can’t, you decide that you will hold this memory so you can always relive this happiness that you feel.

Feeling dizzy either from the adrenaline or from him, you rest your head against him and press a soft kiss on his neck.

Suddenly, Peter tosses you lightly into the air and you are airborne before he catches you but now your position has changed. Now you are sitting, straddling his hips, as his hands come to your behind to carry your weight. Your arms wrap around his neck again but now you are face-to-face with him.

As a blush covers your face, you whisper, “Well hi there.”

He gives you a small smile as he looks at your thorough hooded eyes, “Much better don’t you think? Now I can see you.”

You sit there, chest to chest with breaths mingling, completely suspended in the air over a cliff. “What are we doing, Y/N?” His whisper caresses your skin and he leans in just a little bit closer.

“What do you mean?” You can’t help but do the same, almost like a string pulling you to him.

“You know exactly what I mean. Have you casted a spell on me? Making me dream of you every night and thinking of you every minute the sun is up? Have you made yourself my personal magnet to me so I can never not be near you? Are you bewitching me?” He continues to whisper as one of his hands drags up your body and grips the back of your neck, pulling you in closer until your noses are barely touching.

Your breaths are coming out shaking but your fingers find their way to his hand and you tighten your hold, desperately keeping him close.

“What if it’s you that is playing with my head?”

Your lips are brushing against each other but not quite touching. Your brain fogs with desire but it’s all pulled away from you as Peter abruptly pulls away and starts flying back to land.

“Wha-” You’re dizzy from the sudden change but you aren’t able to be stable on your feet before Peter is hurriedly pulling you through the trees. Silently giggling and running through the forest, your heart is beating out of your chest.

Coming to a clearing, you see a small and simple log cabin sitting by itself. There are a few steps leading up to a porch that surrounds the little cabin.

“Where are we, Peter?”

“This is my place.” He finally slows down to a stop.

He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you as he shoves his face into the crook of your neck. The movement pulls a giggle out of your throat but you don’t take your eyes off the cute cottage.

“I thought you had a tent back at the campsite with everyone else, hm? Are you keeping secrets from us now?” You tease.

“I always have secrets, don’t you know. But this is my own quiet place. I come here when I need to think. Or when I’m scheming.” He tickles your sides and gives your neck a quick kiss before he straightens. “Come on, let’s go inside.” He takes your hand and walks you into the cabin.

The inside of the cabin matches its look on the outside. Comfortable. Simple. Nothing extravagant. The main room is open. One side seems to act as a dining room with a large table with a few chairs beside it. The other side of the room has a matching large table but this table is covered in maps, scrolls, trinkets, and many other items you did not recognize. You see a door towards the back of the cabin which you could tell leads to a bedroom.

“Here, let me get you some water before you pass out on me.”

But before Peter could take a step or before you could even respond, a voice calls out from the back room.

“Peter darling? Did you just get home?”

The blood drains from your face and your eyes grow to saucers as you see Wendy walk out of the back room. Your ears started ringing and it feels as though everything is happening so fast yet so slowly.

Peter marches over to Wendy and angrily argues with her though you couldn’t hear anything over the muffling in your ears. “What are you doing here? Who said you could be here?”

“What are you talking about, baby? Don’t be like that.”

Wendy tries to run her hands up Peter’s front side but her hands do not get far before he grabs her hands and throws them off of him.

Your eyes shoot back and forth between Peter and Wendy and you could hear yourself mumbling, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t-” You hadn’t realized that you were backing up until you felt the front door hit your back.

Before you knew it, Peter was in front of you. All you could do was stare up at him with your heart ready to leap out of your chest. You were confused and hurt and scared and you wanted to be mad. But looking up at him. With his face soft and full of worry. All you could do was trust. Trust in what, you weren’t sure. But a wave of calmness fell over you as you looked at him and his hands came up to softly grip your shoulders.

Peter was gently moving you through the cabin and you could hear Wendy protesting but you couldn’t clear your head enough to hear what she was saying. Peter leads you to the back room which is his bedroom. He sits you on his bed and whispers to you, “Stay here.”

“Peter, I can go. I should’ve known you two were together. I shouldn’t be here, I can go.” But before you could make a move for the door, Peter grips your face gently but firmly, “I said ‘stay here’. I will figure this out. I’m not with her. She isn’t welcome here. You. Stay. Here.”

Peter slammed the door behind him as he left and all you could do was sit on the bed as you were told. Looking around the room, there wasn’t much there to keep you entertained. There was a nightstand by the bed with a few nicknacks on it. A desk with papers covered in writing you couldn’t read. No pictures. No posters. Nothing. Twiddling your thumbs, you tried to not overthink. You sat as patiently as you could but as the minutes ticked by and their angry whispering didn't stop, your anxiety started to kick up.

What if he is lying? Why would she just randomly be here? She’s comfortable enough coming in and out of his place like that. He could just be telling me what I want to hear. Of course, they’re together. Even a blind person could see that they were together. When did I become so dumb?! I need to get out of here.

Your breathing starts to become more rapid as your mind starts spiraling. Looking around the room, there was only one door, and that led back to the main room where Peter and Wendy are. The only other thing in the room was a window that sat above the desk. That was your ticket out. You thank the stars that you weren’t on an upstairs floor or anything or else this escape plan was going to be harder than you thought.

Swinging the window wide enough for your body to fit through, you quietly climbed up onto the table, careful not to disturb anything, and started to push out. You managed to make your way out but you accidentally made a loud thump as your body hit the back deck. Before you could stop and think about what to do, you jumped to your feet and took off running into the forest.

You ran until your lungs burned and ran some more. All around you were trees, trees, and more trees. Everything looked the same yet you didn’t recognize where you were. “Shit I should have been paying attention on the way here. Where the fuck am I?”

Coming to a stop, you drop your hands to your knees to try and catch your breath. After a few deep breaths, you stand up tall and prepare to take off again, at a more reasonable pace this time that you’re far enough away.

But before you could head off, something flies into you and you go slamming back into a tree. A warm, hard body pushes up against you and holds you flush against the tree with no room to escape. It’s still too dark in the night and the trees are blocking the moonlight so you can’t see what has you pinned. You start wiggling around and try to use your hands to push yourself free but a hand wraps around your wrists and pins them above your head. Something comes close to your ear and you could feel the anger radiating from this figure.

“I thought I told you to stay.”

I Told You To Stay Pt. 2

#fanfiction #fanfic #imagine #writing #peter pan x reader #peter pan #peter pan imagines #peter pan ouat #ouat fanfic #ouat fanfiction #ouat #ouat x reader #wendy #wendy darling

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storydays · 5 months

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Brozone Random Headcannons

So I've seen the Trolls Band Together 3 times and counting and it was so good! So to get back in the groove, and after having some kind words come my way from multiple people, I really appreciate you guys! I'm gonna try a new writing style. Now remember, these are simply my opinions :)

SPOILERS AHEAD!

John Dory:

*Okay, so it is canon that Branch is 24 in the Trolls 3, which makes John Dory about 44.

*Nickname(s): JD, John

Fav color: Aquamarine and Green

Pronouns: He/Him (He supports, but is comfortable as himself)

He also gives me aromantic vibes, because like throughout the movie, he was really nonchalant when the romance bits came up, however subtle they are, he didn't give a damn lol.

JD is giving big Aries vibe with how confident he can be, pretty cheerful, and gets frustrated by tiny details, and unnecessary interruptions.

Bruce:

Bruce is the second oldest at 40

BIG Scorpio vibes!! He's strong (Y'all, have y'all seen how easily he lifted Branch when they first met) and hella independent. He was the first to question John Dory before their show, he was even hesitant to leave Vaycay Island before he sang with his brothers.

Nickname(s): Brucie, I feel like Brandy calls him that to mess with him or when she wants something. His brothers' (mostly John Dory and Clay), call him that to make fun of him as well.

Fav Color: White

DO NOT TOUCH THIS MAN'S HAIR!!!!! He will sic his kids on you and show no mercy.

Pronouns: He/Him (He's a huge ally, but he's also proud of himself.)

He loves experimenting and competing in the kitchen with Brandi, forces his brothers to try their food, and chooses whose food is going on the specials board.

Clay:

Clay is giving major middle-sibling vibes: at 35 years old.

Pronouns: He/They

Clay is non-binary and wears androgynous clothing but prefers their sweater romper and wristbands.

Nickname(s): Claybo (Viva calls him this to playfully annoy him), Clayton (Bruce and JD called him that as a kid, usually copying their mothers and grandma when they would scold him; but now call him that when he's overworked himself and they have to physically drag him to bed to rest.

Fav color: Green it was pretty obvious in the movie bc originally it was yellow when we first met him as a teen, but then we meet him later and it's green, and their whole outfit is green.

Def a Gemini! They're such a playful Troll, despite how serious he may act. But as he stated before, put some respect on his name bc they're a licensed CPA, fool!

Clay's favorite snack combo is:

Fries and a vanilla milkshake! He loves dipping the salty fries in the sweet vanilla.

They talk in their sleep, mostly about tax evasion and hot chocolate?

Hates doing their hair, Viva has to wait until he's sleeping for her to brush his tangles out.

Floyd:

Floyd is the second youngest at 32

He's such a Pisces! He's so empathetic, compassionate, and oh, so sensitive.

Pronouns: He/Him

He and Clay definitely go all out for Pride (Bc Trolls are literally all spectrums of the rainbow! We learned that in Trolls 2! It'd be impossible NOT to have a big party for Pride), and drag their brothers and are literally so hype at the whole event and crashes MEGA hard the next morning and sleeps for a good 12 hours.

Floyd remained friends with Veneer because, c'mon they were vibing. He could see Veneer wanted someone to see him, so he convinced the Mount Rageous police to let the twins out for Pride.

Had a long talk with Velvet and helped her to see the error of her ways, and she began to be nicer to Veneer and listen to him.

Fav color is Black. He knows he slays the Rock Troll look.

I'm gonna settle this once and for all: Floyd is gay. The one earring in his right ear is a shout-out to his voice actor who is an openly gay singer.

Nickname(s): Flo (I feel like Branch couldn't pronounce Floyd's name yet when he was just learning to talk, so he called him Flo and it stuck.) Floydie (when his brothers tease him about his crush that he refuses to name.)

The hair in his face is like a comfort thing for him. He knows his hair is soft, and when he's bored, he plays with it, and twirls it around his fingers.

Floyd definitely has a collection of journals, from his songwriting to venting his feelings, and even (poorly drawn) doodles of his family.

Branch:

He is the youngest at 24 as stated earlier.

Pronouns: He/Him

Fav color: Midnight blue like his hair

This dude is hella smart; like has a super high IQ, but is super chill about it.

He and Poppy are that meme: Tired X Energetic on a level 10!

Nickname: Branchifer (Poppy calls him that when she's calling him out on his attitude or when she's about to start teasing him.)

Def an Aquarius: highly intellectual, creative, and likes to join in on social interactions when it's on his time. Poppy learned the hard way why she shouldn't force him to join in.

Similar to Floyd, he was a bunch of notebooks filled with songs he'd written.

Branch is shy when it comes to family PDA, like if his brothers were to group hug him, or if they tried to mother him, and gets especially prickly when they baby-talk him in front of others.

This dude is the prince of sarcasm, clearly picking that trait up from all his brothers. Like bro, why are you so sarcastic?!

Is undeniably the most sarcastic of the brothers. (His nieces and nephews start to pick up on that, much to Bruce's horror. Brandi thinks it's hilarious.)

Doesn't really like kids, but absolutely adores his nephew Bruce Jr ( I mean he loves them all, but has a soft spot for that boy.) Bruce Jr is autistic and nonverbal and struggles to communicate. I believe he uses TSL (Troll Sign Language), and when Branch learns this, he starts signing fluently with his nephew, surprising everyone, especially Bruce Jr, because not many people can sign so fluently, but then Branch explains, that he learned when he was younger because you could go deaf at any moment and it's such a useful skill.

Bruce Jr shows Branch his blueprints that he's made and honestly, if they wanted to, they could take over the world.

That's all for now! Let me know what you guys think!

A big shout out to @vacayisland appreciate you! This one’s for you 🥰

#brozone x reader #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #headcannons #branch #john dory trolls #clay trolls #bruce trolls #floyd trolls

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murdockussy · 1 year

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Could you do an enemies to lovers one shot where obi has been in love with the reader for a while but she doesn’t know it?

And I wouldn’t mind some spice please hehe

AHHHH this request is perfect!! I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write this one up, but I hope you enjoy reading it!!

(I am open to taking any requests, head to my masterlist to read more about it :))

Room 24

Angsty, smutty lil Obi Wan Kenobi x Reader enemies to lovers one shot where he fell for the reader first!

Warnings: a little arguing here and there, but we love a jealous Kenobi moment

Words: 8,900ish

If you could gather every emotion you felt towards Obi Wan Kenobi, you were almost certain you’d be left with a burning heap of seething hot hatred – almost.

Ever since your first interaction all those years ago, you - young and naïve, heart hammering in your chest as were introduced to your peers inside the Jedi Temple for the first time, and him – a lean short haired boy with platted stand of hair falling down his neck, disapproving stare watching your ever move as you were welcomed into the group of young Jedi’s– you knew that Obi Wan Kenobi was going to be anything but your friend.

The more time you spent around him, the more you were able to register his arrogance. How he always stuck to his allegiance, leaving little room for mistakes. Before you, he was always top of the class, earning the position of one of the most skilled and wise Jedi’s for his age, but all that changed the day you arrived on Coruscant.

Although you were slightly younger than your peers and were considerably inexperienced, you refused to let that stop you, you using your gifted skills to quickly climb to the top, soaring above those who’d been in the same field as you for far longer than you have.

And that angered Obi Wan to no extent. The same Council members who once showered him with endless praise, bringing him alongside missions that were far out of the league of his peers, were now giving you – someone who just less than a year prior had no knowledge of what a Jedi even was – the same treatment.

He couldn’t understand how you did it, and for that his hatred towards you grew. Sure, you were skilled, you could yield a lightsaber well, your aim with blasters was precise, and your bond with the force was as strong as his, but how you were able to achieve his level of expertise in the time you’d been there left him baffled.

As the years passed, you grew to know each other quite well – you know what they say, keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. You’d keep a close eye on him during missions, watching the muscles on his arms flex as he’d wave the glowing saber in defense, face stern and focused, and in return, he’d do the same, studying the patterns of your fighting style, the way your chest heaved as the loose strands of hair would cascade onto your face with each spin and duck.

You both unraveled each other's perks and quirks and seen one another in the best and worst of times, yet no matter how well one of you knew the other, the hatred was always there, evident and unwavering, you both making it known to each other that hate was the only emotion you held for one another – nothing else.

And it always remained that way... that was until Obi Wan came to the realisation that maybe his feelings were a masquerade for something much deeper

On a night when the moons shone brightly above the Jedi Temple when half of the Council returned from an off-planet meeting, Obi Wans Padawan Anakin was solemnly waiting for his Master's return in their shared apartment when a sudden uproar caught his attention. He traced the shouting to the entrance of the room, opening the door of their living quarters to find his Master and yourself standing opposite one another, an angered expression mirrored on both of your faces.

“... If you hadn’t been so selfish, I could’ve taken him out with ease” you shouted, one hand resting on your hip while the other poked at Kenobi’s chest.

“With ease? I’m starting to believe your delusions have reached new heights, because from my memory, they had you tied up to a post, wi-”

“But I got out! Freed myself! Something you would’ve seen if you weren’t so preoccupied trying to be the hero – again!”

“There’s a difference between trying to be a hero, and actually being one, something you wouldn’t kno-”

As amused as he was, Anakin stepped out of the doorway, yourself and Obi Wan falling silent once the Padawan made his presence known. Greeting yourself and his Master, he leant against the wall beside you both with a playful grin.

“If you wish to continue, I'd suggest taking this indoors. People do want to get some sleep at night, believe it or not”

Just as Obi Wan began to scold his Padawan, you interrupted, your feet dragging you backwards slowly as you spoke, “No need. It’s pointless trying to get through to him anyway. Goodnight, Anakin”

Pushing past the young boy beside him, Obi Wan walked through the entrance of his home, his blood boiling as he stormed towards the loungeroom, seating himself on the couch as his head fell into the palms of his hands.

Anakin wasn’t far behind, him resting on the arm of the opposite couch from the one Obi Wan was seated on, the amusement evident in his voice as he broke the silence.

“Well... that was interesting”

“Not now Anakin!”

“Hey, I haven’t done anything wrong, Master. If anything, you should be thanking me. It really was quite the disturbance you both were causing out the-”

“I said not now! I’ve had enough of this for tonight”

“She really knows how to get under your skin, doesn’t she? I’m starting to think she’s worse than me”

“Anakin” Obi Wan warned, his head lifting from his hands to stare at the boy before him.

“You’re always together. Always arguing. And you both get so riled up with one another. It’s as if you’re... like you’re couple that’s been in a marriage for all your life”

“I’m being quite serious Anakin, if you don-”

“It seems as if you're so disapproving you are of her. Which is strange because she’s good at what she does. She’s a great Jedi. Maybe you’re just jealous of her-”

“Anakin, that’s en-”

“Or maybe you’re in love with her, that could be it too” Anakin joked, a snort of laughter escaping his lungs.

Without saying another word, Obi Wan rose from his seat, brushing past the boy who had broken out in a fit of laughter, breathy apologies falling from his lips as he watched his Master disappear into his bedroom, where he wouldn’t appear from until the next morning.

Yet that night, Obi Wan barely got a wink of sleep, his heart hammering endlessly in his chest as Anakin's words combined with ghostly images of you swirled around his thoughts, the realisation of the truth within Anakin's lighthearted words haunting him till the sun rose the next day.

All this time Obi Wan was wrong. His deep-rooted obsession with you, his need to watch you whenever you’re within his vision, his desire to hear the rise of your voice when he pushes your buttons - he buttons only he knew how to push – wasn’t from a place of hatred. No, it was from a place of love. All this time he’d loved someone he swore to be his own personal enemy.

Yet, he refused to cave into his emotions. Keeping the guarded front of hatred up whenever you were near.

He repeatedly told himself it was because loving someone was against the Jedi code. That if he followed the true desires of his heart, everything he worked so hard for would be torn from him instantly. He’d have no purpose, no guidance, no home. And for that, resenting you somehow became easier, because he wouldn’t allow you to take that all away from him. But deep down, in a place he struggled to keep hidden, he was terrified of your true emotions, that if you were to reveal his true desire for you, you’d reject him, using his one weakness – his emotions for you - against him.

And for that, he kept up the false front, his behavior towards you unwavering, because hating you was far easier than loving you.

However, sometimes he didn’t have to continuously remind himself of that fact, Anakin's suggestion of you getting under his skin an obvious truth as he lost sight of you, his vision darting in each direction as he spun himself in a full 360 in the middle of the busy pathway.

Obi Wan and yourself were currently paired together on an assignment, one that could've been easily palmed off to Kenobi and his Padawan if it wasn’t for the younger boy being in recovery after having himself injured on their last mission.

The goal for the assignment was simple. There had been rumors floating around the temple of an underground club storing illegal weapons, which itself wouldn’t be an issue because as far as you were aware, half the clubs on Coruscant held their own illegal weapons, but once word spread that a group of bounty hunters were seeking to purchase the weapons, the Council decided to step in, hence yourself and Obi Wan being sent on the mission.

And it seemed simple. Disguise yourself as anything other than a pair of Jedi, go into the club, seek out the location of the stored weaponry, alert the Counsil of its whereabouts, and leave. Easy. The entire assignment could be finished in under an hour. Yet the moment you dressed yourself in the disguised outfit, you slipping into the thin fabric of the floor length black dress, you decided you wanted to make the most of the night out, allowing yourself to have a bit more fun than the Council would’ve intended you on having.

Obi Wan spun himself to the brink of dizziness when he finally paused, his eyes landing on your open back dress facing away from him as you stood at the entrance of a stall, you passing the man a handful of credits in exchange for the wide scarf.

Groaning in annoyance, Obi Wan weaved his way through the crowded night market, him overhearing your thanks to the shop keep as he finally reached you, you turning to face him right as he approached you.

“A scarf?” he questioned, his eyes lingering on your face as he took in your amused expression.

“I needed it” you replied, pushing past his tense frame as you began walking into the crowd once more. He watched as you slid the fabric across your arms, the width of it draping down your spine covering majority of your back, leaving a small slither of your skin exposed at the base of your dress, his eyes locked onto your flesh as you wandered off before it clicked that you were wandering off, him quickly jogging to catch up with you.

“You know” he huffed, “we do have an assignment to complete”

“And tell me, do we have a specific time frame required to complete this mission?”

“...No, however it wou-”

“No time frame means no need to rush” you said with raised eyebrows as you turned to look at Obi Wan, his eyes squinting as he faced forwards.

“I think it would be rather beneficial to get this over and done with”

“Why? Have you got somewhere better to be, Kenobi?”

“Well, no. But I'd pref-”

“Then we can take as long as we need. Besides, how often is it that we get to leisure like this out of the Temple? Well, I can only speak on my own behalf. I don’t care for whatever slacking off you do in your free time”

“I do not ‘slack off’. Unlike some people, I take my role seriously”

“If I didn’t take my role seriously, they wouldn’t have chosen me to be on this assignment, would’ve they?”

“Only because Anakin's not here” Obi Wan mumbled under his breath just loud enough for you to hear, causing an angry warmth beneath your skin to flare up, your face snapping to meet the man beside yours once more.

“And why isn’t your Padawan here? Maybe if his Master knew know how to provide adequate guidance, he wouldn’t have to resort to the medical bay once a week!”

Obi Wan ignored your verbal jab, his eyes glancing at the rows of stalls as you both continued through the market, triumph slowly building inside you at his lack of a comeback until he redirected his walk to cut directly in front of you, his words a whisper as he passed your frame.

“Say’s the Jedi without their own Padawan”

“Hey!” you called, his feet quickening due to the clearing of the crowds as he headed towards the markets exit. Fastening your own pace, you caught up with him, prepared to argue back to his statement before he hushed you, his movements coming to a halt.

“That's our destination. Master Yoda believes the weapons are stored on-”

“The first or second floor beneath the club. I know. Might I remind you, I'm also on the Council” you stated, your shoulder bumping his as you passed him and began to draw closer to the entrance of the building when you felt a firm grasp around your wrist, stopping you from any further movements.

“Don’t you... Wouldn’t it be best to think of a plan before walking in there?”

“We already have a plan” You sighed in annoyance, you now facing him while his fingers remained wrapped around your skin.

“But what if were questioned?”

“We won’t be”

“We need to be on the same page if they questio-”

“We won’t be”

“If we get caught, and you begin some-”

“Kenobi! I’m telling you we will not be caught! Can you just trust me for once?!”

His eyes widened in shock, his raised eyebrows furrowing after a moment's silence, a burst of air leaving his nostrils as he did a firm nod, his hand falling from yours as he crossed his arms across his chest.

“Fine... But if a single thing goes south-” he started, you huffing as you turned your back to him and marched towards the entrance of the club, Obi Wan following you behind as you neared the tinted glass doors reflecting the neon flashing signs of the streets above.

Approaching the entrance, the two doors slide open, revealing the dim lights and bassy instrumental echoing within the club. You scanned the room as you entered it, your nose scrunching at the faded colored curtains draping across each wall and the clouds of thin smoke wafting across the roof, your eyes falling on the grim looking creature perched behind the reception desk.

You slowed your pace until Obi Wan was standing beside you when you suddenly slid your arm beneath his, your arms interlocked drawing you closer to one another as you inched towards the reception desk. You could feel his confused gaze burning into the side of your face, but you ignored it, your face remaining emotionless as you approached the creature at the desk.

“Reservation for 4-16" you spoke clearly, Obi Wans eyes now bouncing between yours and the creatures.

“Name?” the being mumbled, his hands gliding across the vibrant hologram raised on the surface of the desk.

“Waters” you replied, your voice stern as you watched his fingers dance across the glitchy lights, him tapping a few times before humming in approval, his bulging eyes returning to yours as he spoke.

“You’re cleared. Pleasure to have you back, Miss Waters”

Without looking back, you directed Obi Wan into the club, the two of you heading towards the row of ceiling high booth without saying a word. Unlinking your arm from his, you shimmied yourself into the booth, Obi Wan following behind you, seating himself a foot away from you.

“Care to explain?”

“I told you to trust me” you said unphased as you flattered out the fabric across your stomach.

“Who is Miss Waters?” he pushed, him continuing to glare at you, you picking up on the sense that he wouldn't drop this topic without answers.

“A fake name, clearly” you answered shortly, your eyes looking anywhere besides the man next to you who was growing more agitated by the minute, you jumping in your seat at the sudden sensation of his hand on your knee.

“This is a shared mission! I’m required to know what you’re doing, so if need be, I can be in on whatever this is as well”

Your head snapped to face him, your voice low yet firm as you quickly replied.

“For the last time, I told you to trust me! And if you don’t, there’s no use for you being here. You know where the door is, or do you need help finding it?”

Before he had the chance to reply, both of your heads turned to face the slim figure that was approaching your booth with a friendly smile, you forcing your cheeks to rise as you mirrored their joyous emotion.

“Miss Waters, it’s been quite some time! How has life been treating you?”

“Same old, you know how it is. And you?”

“Busy. But it’s good to see a familiar face” he said, bending slightly to place a tray of assorted fruits and four glasses of a smokey green liquid on the table.

“Oh... Grolo, this really isn’t necessary for tonight”

“Nonsense, it’s on the house” Grolo replied before stepping backwards, his hands crossing as he nodded while speaking, “Room 24 is prepared to your liking for when you’re ready. You two enjoy your evening”

You waited until Grolo disappeared from your eyesight before you raised your palms to your face, your heart beginning to beat slightly quicker from the conversation, you truly wanting to remain unexposed from the man beside you.

“So... Familiar face, huh?”

“Kenobi” you warned, you shielding your eyes from the world around you with your palms, Obi Wans own palm still resting on your knee.

“And what’s this ‘room 24’?”

“None of your business, that’s what it is”

“But it will be... once the Council is notified about the cheat that is lying under their noses”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, a sudden anger sparking inside you as you dropped your hands, your body shifting to face the man beside you.

“If you even think about speaking a word of this to them, I'll shatter each glass on this table and force it down your throat!”

Leaning back against the fabric of the booth, he brought one hand to his beard, scaping it slowly as he watched you, while the other slid an inch up your skin, unwavering from its position as he pushed, “Then confess whatever it is that you’re hiding about this place, what you’re hiding about yourself”

You wanted to call him out on his bluff, wanted to believe that he wouldn’t speak a word of what he’s already witnessed to the Council – wanted to trust him – yet you knew you couldn’t, you fully aware of his devotion to his job. So you leaned forward, grabbing two of the four drinks in front of you and bringing them to your lips, you shotting one after another like the liquid had no burning aftertaste, you in desperate need of any confidence boost for what you’re about to tell the man you resented the most.

“Fuck. Fine. This...” you started, pausing momentarily with hesitation, Obi Wans eyes lingering on your face as you sighed, “This all began quite some time ago now.”,

“Master Yoda caught word of a potential bounty passing though this area of Coruscant every few nights. He knew it was too risky himself to check the area out, so he sent me”,

“His intentions were to get any information on the man. If the potential bounty belonged to a gang, if he had a following, who he was involved with. I came here, unsure if the bounty would even step foot in this place, with no indication on how to secure the information Yoda wanted”

“And the mission was successful?” Kenobi asked, his hand still raking through the hairs on his chin.

You nodded, swallowing the nerves building inside your tightening throat from what you were confessing for the first time.

“Call it intuition, or even the Force, but he ended up coming here. I sparked a conversation, and he fell right into my trap. I knew it was too risky to use any of my... Force abilities. So I tried something else, and it worked after some time. He told me what I needed to know, and I reported it all-”

“What was it?”

“What was what?”

“Your method. Possibly spiking of his drink? I wouldn’t put that past you-”

“Seduction, actually” you spat, your features lifting with your matter-of-fact tone while his jumped in shock, a small cough escaping his mouth as he suddenly leaned forward, the hand that was resting on your leg now shooting across the table to grab ahold of one of the remaining drinks.

“Seeing how successful it was” you continued, a half smiling tugging at your lips from the surprise your statement caused, “I decided to come back and try it again on a different occasion. And that’s how it started. The more I came here, the more potential threats would walk through those doors – Grolo’s bar being sort of a... hot spot, I guess, for people who want to remain unseen. I’d buy each one a drink here and there, enough for them to lose track of what they’re saying, sweet talk them the way a man like them would want to be spoken to, and suddenly the information I'd want would pour out of them. Easily”

“But why do it if it wasn’t necessary?”

“Because it kept me one step ahead. I attained information no other Council member had. Their confessions helped me out on multiple missions. I know who's connected to who, and who to avoid, where these people stay, what threats they pose. Besides, you and I both know how slowly the Council can move at times. I’ve just pushed myself to have a head start”

“So you’d... seduce these... men into giving you information, out of your own will?”

“Yes, Kenobi. I did” you said, your eyes switching from his face to the single drink remaining, you leaning forwards to grab it, your pulse jumping as you pretending to ignore the way Obi Wans eyes watched your moving frame, “But nothing I've done is against the Jedi code, nor is it a crime”

“Not yet. You’re yet to inform me about this ‘room 24’”

You remained silent as you rested back into the seat, you bringing the drink to your lips as your eyes lingered on Obi Wans, your stomach beginning to churn at the thought of you sharing your deepest secret to the man you’d wish to keep your secret from most.

“Or you can tell the rest of the Council themselves, I'm sure they’d love to know” he said, his tone flat as he slowly began shuffling himself out of the booth, you immediately snapping your hand to wrap around his forearm stopping him in his tracks.

“Don’t! Just... Believe me, Obi Wan, it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be”

“And why should I have faith in your words? You can’t even tell me what is that you’re hiding, how can I trust that!”

“Okay... Just sit, please”

With a small huff, he returned to his previous position, spinning himself around to face the bar behind him, arm waving towards the empty tray on the table before adjusting himself to face you once more, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he did so.

“If you’re going to make me stay, I might as well make it worth my while” he said coolly as one of the bartenders approached the booth with a full tray of drinks, swiftly placing it on the table, replacing the now empty one. He reached forward, his body barely lifting from the back of the seat as he grabbed the glass, his eyes looking deeply into yours as he took a sip causing the pits of your stomach to ignite with warmth. “Now finish the story, or I'm leaving. Don’t make me regret this decision” he said, following with your name at the end of the sentence.

You wanted to push him, tease him about how precious the Council was to him, but you bit your tongue as you drowned the rest of your drink fully knowing there was no way out of the hole you unwillingly dug yourself in.

Here goes nothing.

“I was here every few weeks, doing the same routine. But... one night, things sort of changed. This scoundrel from Coruscant's south, no matter how hard I pushed, he gave no information on what I wanted to know. At first, I was in control, but the more we consumed, the more I... drifted from my purpose. Things started to take a turn, and... well, one thing led to another, and we... you know. I didn’t end up getting the information I wanted out of him, so when I came back, I tried again with someone who had connections to the scoundrel, but I was met with the same fate. After that, my purpose for coming to this side of town had a... different meaning”

As the words left your lips, Obi Wans entire demeaner shifted, his relaxed composure becoming stiff, his jaw locked with tension as his eyes glared at you, a pit of rage boiling within him at your confession. Yet he kept himself together, trying to attain his burning jealousy as you continued your story.

“Grolo, whenever I'd return, he’d allow me to stay in a room here with these... people. Room 24. He had trust in me, because I'd brought in good revenue for him with all my previous assignments, and he refused each man from leaving the next morning without covering the bill for the night's stay. We build sort of an understanding, a bond – myself and Grolo. I supplied him with customers, he supplied me with a free room”

Concluding your confession, you released the deep breath you didn’t know you were holding back, you shotting the remainder of your drink before speaking once more, “That's all it is, Obi Wan. I’m not a criminal, or a cheat to the Council, so you can drop the need you so desperately have to inform the Council of any of this”

You both sat in a momentary silence, your heart hammering in your chest as you waited for any sort of response from Kenobi, his silence out of character. Yet your pulse was met with a match, Obi Wan feeling as though his own heart was bound to leap out of his chest any moment due to the spiraling anger within him. Images began to play in his mind of the story you shared, flashes of your naked frame entangled with another - someone who wasn’t him - blinding his vision entirely, him taking no note of the rattling glass in his hand until the soft call of his named tore him from his thoughts.

“... Obi Wan?” you mumbled, your hand reaching out towards him, your fingers barely grazing his skin before he pulled back, his voice a sharp slice as he spat his words.

“You’re unbelievable!”

“I’m sorry?” you questioned, your already hammering heart going into overdrive from his outburst.

“Are you in some state of delusion? You’d be foolish to believe any of this is okay”

"What are you... I told you I've done noth-”

“There's something in this lifestyle you’re hiding amongst that you truly desire. These relations, you want them more than you’re allowing yourself to believe. You’ve gone against me-… Against the Jedi Code. I thought you were smarter than this, but clearly, I was wrong about you”

Absorbing his belittlement, your shock was quickly switched to anger, you hurt that he was speaking to you this way after you opened to him for the first time about something nobody else knew, something that you would’ve never had spoken on if it wasn’t for his threats in the first place.

“Don’t try and act as though you’re innocent, Obi Wan, like you’ve never had some fun before. We all remember whatever it was that happened between yourself and Dutchess Satine!” The Dutchess’s name on your tongue left a sour after taste, a quick flash of memories passing through your mind as you spoke, images of Obi Wan watching the woman fondly, her arm entwined with his and they walked together, the memory so bitter in your mind that it only added fuel to your already wild flame.

“What you’re doing is incomparable to that. It was a moment of clouded judgement, of weakness. It was a half-whited act, but nowhere near as close to what you’ve been doing”

“My business is different!” The alcohol you’d consumed began to take full effect, you unaware of just how loud you were both shouting at one another until you noticed the turning of heads surrounding the booth, various eyes falling on yourself and Obi Wan.

“And how is that?!”

“You formed an attachment, I didn’t! You got entangled with emotions, I'm only after momentary fulfillment!”

“You are surely blinded! This is outrag-”

You weren’t sure what pushed you over the edge – possibly the heat flushed against your cheeks or the tears beginning to well behind your eyes - but you finally got fed up with the ongoing argument, you swiftly rising from the seat, your body swaying slightly as you shuffled yourself towards the exit of the booth.

Before you had the chance to walk off, you felt a forceful grip suddenly wrap around your wrist, his soft plea for you to stop barely audible as you cut him off immediately, snatching your arm from his as you spat back, “Don’t!”

Shocked expressions were blurred around you as you stormed off, the effort of not allowing your hot tears to spill over blocking out the calling pleas of your name from behind you. You repeatedly attempted deep breaths as you pushed your way around passing creatures, your shaky hands a direct result of the alcohol and adrenaline cocktail flowing through your bloodstream.

Muscle memory navigated you through the various hallways leading you towards the back rooms, your fingers dancing along the keypad of the door you knew too well, a small flash of green blinking before the door unlocked, you pushing the steel frame open. Immediately you were welcomed with dim lighting, the smell of vanilla wafting through your nose as you waved your hands towards your face, your palms cuffing your eyes as you exhaled sharply.

For a few quiet moments, you stayed in that position, the fire inside you putting up a continuous fight towards your attempt of calming yourself, you completely unaware of the presence that had joined you in the room until you heard the thunder of the steel door forcefully closing behind you causing you to rapidly twirl in shock, your hands ripping from your eyes as they connected with the blue eyes glairing back at you.

You watched each other in silence, the anger within you sparking up at the sight of him, your previous attempts at becoming calmer thrown out the window within seconds. As his eyes scanned your frame, his somewhat stiff stance loosened, his eyes softening as he absorbed your upset state. His mouth opened to speak, but before he had the chance to mutter a single syllable, your words silenced his, the sentences freely falling from your lips.

“When all this began, for the first time in my life, I felt as if I was lifted from any burden. Weightless from all responsibilities. No rules, no restrictions, no Council or Jedis. Do you know how freeing that felt? To be nothing but a girl having some fun with a stranger at a bar? It was like being able to breathe again for the first time!”

He listened to each word you spoke, his mouth remaining shut as he stepped towards you, you moving yourself in the opposite direction as he did so.

“It was harmless fun Kenobi! Believe it or not, I really don’t care, but that’s all it was! And if you’re so opposed by it, go ahead and tell the Council!!”

“No” he mumbled flatly, his eyes never leaving yours as his head shook, his body moving another step closer to yours.

“Why not?!” you shouted, the back of your knees finally hitting the edge of the bed as you backed away from his approaching body, “Maybe they’ll believe you, banish me from the temple. You’ll be able to reign free, the great General Kenobi at the peak of his game!”

“No” he repeated, this time louder as he began to close in on you, a warm puddle forming in the pit of your stomach as you noticed a glimmer of crazy in his eyes that you’d never seen before.

“Thats what you’ve strived for all these years, isn’t it? The moment I stepped foot in that temple you wanted me out of there! Nows your chance! I know this is what you want to do, so just do it!”

Within the blink of an eye, his arms extended in front of him, his warm palms landing on your waist as he pulled you towards him, your chest slamming into his, your breath knocked from your lungs at the contact. His head tilted down to meet yours, one arm removing itself from your waist only to place itself on your chin, his fingers pinching your skin as he directed your head to face his.

“You have no idea what I want!”

The small blow of his breath drifted across your open lips, the sensation sending a wave of tingles down your spine, a pool of warmth forming between your weekend legs as his angered eyes peered into your own.

“You think having you removed from the council is what I desire? To not have you within reach, have you out of my eyesight for even a single second? I would rather take a blade to the skull than to have you out of my life, leaving me miserable while you’re out there being fulfilled by some low life stranger who doesn’t even know your real name”

As the last sentence left his lips, he pulled your body as close as possible, your heart fluttering as you breathily gasped, his following words causing you to almost fall to your knees as he whispered them onto your flushed skin, “They could never do what needs to be done with you. You don’t even know what real fulfillment is”

Lifting your head, his fingers still attached to your skin, you inched your face towards him, you pausing at the soft touch of his lips brushing yours, your words vibrating the curve of his bottom lip as you whispered, “...Then why don’t you show me?”

The breath was knocked from your lungs once more as your frame was suddenly pushed backwards, you collapsing onto the mattress with force, Obi Wans body close behind you as he softly landed on top of you. Leaving no time to waste, he spread his knees to rest on the outsides of your thighs, his hands grabbing at your waist once more as he shuffled you towards the top of the mattress, your body effortlessly tossed towards the soft pillows.

Barely able to settle from his rapid moving of your body, he crawled his way back on top of you, his lips immediately connecting with the base of your jaw causing an audible sigh to clear from your lungs.

“You have no idea...” he started, each word interrupted by a sloppy kiss as he worked his way down your neck, “how deeply I've wanted... how deeply I've... needed you”

His confession made your mind swirl, your hands instinctively gripping at his clothing, trembling fingers unbuttoning and tugging the fabric away from his torso as he roughly worked his mouth across your skin. With each suck and nip, your breaths drew deeper which only seemed to encourage him more.

“For countless years... my every waking moment” he breathed, his hips connecting to meet with yours, you noticing the stiffness between his legs for the first time causing you to groan, “... has been consumed with thoughts of you”

His upper body now rid of clothes, you suddenly felt extremely warm in your own clothing, your head tossing to the side as you struggled to free your arms from the twisted scarf clinging to them. Noticing your movements, Obi Wan withdrew himself from your neck, his movements twice as fast as he assisted in removing your scarf, him balling the item up and tossing it behind him, you taking the small moment to focus on his lips, the skin dark and plump, the wetness glazed across the his lips giving you the urge to connect your own with his.

Returning to face you, his eyes caught sight of your gaze, his heart skipping a beat when you made contact with him. Your flushed cheeks and darked pupils almost sent him into a complete frenzy, but the small pull of your soft smile drew him back into reality, him needing to clear any doubts before continuing, his one arm keeping him hovered above you while the other stroked a strand of hair from your cheek.

“If... if this isn’t what you want, we can st-”

Unable to wait a moment longer, you snaked your arms around his neck, drawing him into you as you pushed your lips onto his. The moment you made contact, pure euphoria spread itself through each nerve in Obi Wans body, him kissing you back twice as hard as his heart leaped in his chest. Finally, he thought.

You pulled back slightly, your attempt to speak cut short as Obi Wan eagerly chased your lips, him deepening the kiss the moment his skin met yours, not wanting to spend another second away from your lips.

You allowed him to take you in, his lips dancing along with yours as his hips began to slowly grind onto you, your soft sigh tumbling into his mouth causing him to kiss you deeper.

“Obi” you mumbled, him humming in reply, completely engulfed by bliss, his lips never leaving yours.

“Obi Wan” you repeated, this time louder as you pulled away from him with a small laugh.

As much as you were enjoying the sensation of his lips on yours, the ever-growing pulse between your legs was growing stronger with every passing moment, and you were on the edge of becoming desperate.

“What is it?” Kenobi questioned, his eyes clouding with doubt as he scanned your face, your delicate hand now combing back his long hair welcoming him with immediate reassurance.

“I need you...” Your simple worlds caused the man to completely crumble, the sentence one he’d dreamt of for countless years, certain he’d never have the pleasure of being on the receiving end when you said it. Yet there he was, laying on top of the woman he loved, the worlds a looping constant in his mind as he watched you. “... Please”

As if sprung back to life from the dead, he didn’t want to wait a single moment longer, his hands frantic as they reached around to the back of your neck, unfastening your dress and peeling the fabric from your upper body and down to your hips, you shuffling on the mattress, assisting him in any way you could. Pulling the material down your legs, he used one hand to toss it behind him, the other tugging the shoes from your feet before he did the same to himself, ridding him of his pants and footwear before returning his attention to you.

Stoll hovering above you, he spends a small moment ogling at your naked torso, the way your sprawled hair and tinted cheeks complemented your exposed skin. He was certain he was in the presence of an angel, wishing he could freeze the sight of you before him and stare at it for eternity, yet the harness between his legs prevented him from doing otherwise, him lowering himself to your chest.

His hands roamed freely across your skin, the sensation of his drifting fingers leaving your hairs standing on edge as his mouth now worked itself across your shoulder blades, each hot kiss leaving a trail of wetness behind.

Even though you had no intention of staying quiet, small sighs and groans fell freely into the air, each one growing louder as Obi Wan worked his way down your body, him coming to a standstill as his mouth reached your breast.

His mouth occupied with one, his hand now toying with the other, your breathing grew heavier in pleasure, only spiraling the frenzy that burned inside Obi Wan.

“Oh my... oh my god” you breathed, your hands shifting between the back of his shoulder blades and the strands of his hair.

“You’re so beautiful” he mumbled dreamily, his mouth and hands switching positions as he worked himself across to your right breast, his hand now kneading your left.

Although you were coursing with pleasure, you still needed more, you growing impatient with his slow teasing.

“Obi Wan, I...”

“Yes, my darling?”

“I need more”

“More?” he teased, his head lifting from your chest and snaking its way to your neck, him now trailing a row of small pecks to your ear, pausing to whisper, “Tell me what you want”

“Your hands. Please, Obi”

An exhale of laughter blew into your ear, Obi Wans mouth finding your own as his hand snaked its way down your body, his hand slightly trembling as it reached the lining of your underwear. He toyed with the edge of the fabric, your lips mashing with his as your hips lifted in reflex to the touch, pushing him to continue.

As his fingers dug beneath the fabric, you released a rumbly moan into his mouth, the sound causing him to eagerly press further, the pads of his fingers collecting wetness as he explored. Your sounds of pleasure grew more rapidly as his fingers moved, him finding your bundle of nerves with ease causing you to cry out and press up onto his hand, a smirk forming on his face as you did so.

Both your palms now held his cheeks, keeping his lips pressed against yours as his hand worked on your below, a rhythm forming in his movements causing a buildup to form within you, a pressure initiating in your core.

Keeping his thumb on your bud, his index and middle finger explored lower, pausing at your opening.

“Is this what you desire?” he asked between kisses, his voice low and rough. You nodded in agreement, your eyes shut in bliss as his thumb continued its movements.

“You words. I need your words”

“Yes!” you cried desperately into his mouth, a sigh leaving both of your lips as his fingers entered you.

His movements started slow, him taking in each new feeling as his fingers slowly worked in and out, but it wasn’t until he felt the connection of your hip meeting his hands that he allowed himself to speed up, your continuous moans on his lips reassurance that you were enjoying yourself. It wasn’t long before the tension within you began rapidly building to new heights, the two of you breathing deeply into one another.

“Obi...” you moaned, your mouth detaching from him, bottom lip falling slack as your skin began to tingle with pleasure, “I’m... I'm close”

His movements stayed steady, your hands beginning to shake as you drew closer to your release until everything suddenly stopped, his fingers inside you now a ghostly presence as he removed his hands from beneath your underwear, bringing them to his own, him pulling the fabric down as you gaped at him in disbelief of what he’d just done.

“Why did you st-”

Your questioning was interrupted with a firm, sloppy kiss, you jumping at the return of his hands as they fell on the side of your leg, grabbing the fabric of the only remaining piece of clothing on your body before tugging them down your thighs.

“I need to feel you, now” he said as he leant back on his knees, readjusting to both of you around so that his legs were between yours, your legs bent and thighs spread as he lowered himself, his body straight as he hovered above you once more. His free hand grabbed his shaft, lining it up with your core, his eyes peering up at you as he did so.

“Are you s-”

“Obi” you groaned in annoyance, your body still tingling from his edging just before.

“I need you to be sure” he said back with a competitive tone, yet the small smile on his face revealed anything but anger.

“I want you Obi Wan. Right now. Please”

With your green light, he thrusted his hip towards you, your entrance welcoming his tip as he lowered himself into you, the sounds leaving both of your mouths a cocktail of pure pleasure. He moved slowly, wanting to prevent causing you any discomfort but also needing to savor the feeling. This really is heaven, he thought.

Dragging himself in and out, he refused to pick up his pace until you granted him to do so, a wave of excitement spreading through him as your hips began to meet his. He entered you with more force, hip colliding with yours as he rocked into you, causing you to cry out in satisfaction.

“Faster” you mumbled, your head falling sideways as he began to move more vigorously.

“What was that?” he teased, pretending to not hear your words.

“Please, faster, Obi Wan!” you cried.

His speed doubled as he worked into you, both of your bodies rocking in sync as he lowered his mouth to your neck, his lingering pecks growing sloppier as he the time passed, vocal groans and heavy puffs rumbling against your now tender skin.

The familiar building began to form within the pits of your stomach once more, your hands reaching out to claw at the exposed skin of Kenobi's back as you breathlessly moaned, “Fuck... You’re so good”

“Yeah?”

“Mmmh hmmm” you nodded, his lips snaking their way down to your chest once more before returning to your face, his forehead resting on yours as his wild eyes peered down into yours.

“No other scum can please you the way I can” he groaned somewhat angrily, his lips pressing onto yours forcefully as his thrusting hardened causing a cry to crawl itself out from your throat, “Only I can... God, only I can have you like this. Tell me only I make you feel this good”

“Obi Wan!” you called, your chest rising and falling rapidly as the ache in your core drew closer to release.

“I said tell me!” he paused, his hand snaking its way down to your thigh, gripping the skin and hiking your leg up beside him causing his thrusts to fall deeper inside you.

“It’s only you, Obi- Oh my... Only you make me feel this good!”

“That’s right...” he cooed, placing a kiss to your swollen lips as his forehead returned to yours, his eyes lapping up the visual pleasure displaced across your face.

Your cries both messy and loud, your hands began to shake once more as you were now on the edge of your release, Obi Wans own pent up tension a reflection of yours as he bucked into you.

“I’m... I’m...” you stuttered, your hands frantic on his skin as his breath fanned your face, you unable to finish your sentence as his mouth returned to yours for a final time, his free hand gripping your skin tightly as you reached your peaks, you crying out inaudible appraisals as you came undone, your nails digging into Obi Wans flushed skin as he rocked into you, his release directly chasing yours, his loud moans echoing in your ears.

You rode the wave of your highs together, his hips continuing to rock into yours as he emptied himself inside of you, his mind a haze of complete bliss as you held him, your rocky breaths across his skin sending shivers down his spine.

You stayed like that for what you wished could be an eternity, basking in the euphoria that coursed through your veins as you both relaxed into one another, you gasping as Obi Wan removed himself from your warm walls before plummeting onto your frame, your skin to skin contact an immediate warming comfort.

Catching your breaths, your hand raked the skin on his back, your palms soothing the red scratches you created just moments before as he delicately placed fluttery kisses on your already bruising collarbones. Neither of you had spoken a word, you both basking in the moment, absorbing the affections you were gifting to one another before Obi Wans head rose from your chest, his eyes slightly glassy as he drew in your attention.

“As cathartic as that was... we do have an assignment to complete” he joked, the hair on his chin tickling the skin on your chest as it bounced with laughter, you tossing your head back with a groan before peeking down at him once more, his wide smile a reflection of your own.

“I hate you, Kenobi” you teased, your hands snaking their way up through his hair, your fingers pausing to give a section of strands a slight tug as you spoke causing his smile to widen.

“My darling, I hate you more than you’ll ever know”

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sunraies · 1 year

Note

hey hun, could you writes a fluff with rafe where you’ve had an argument with a friend and he comforts you x

Of course! I hope this is ok. I think I ran with the argument more than the comfort, but I hope Rafe gives enough. If you need more Rafe and less plot, please let me know x

Tear-stained Cheeks

Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader

Warnings - Fluff and angst. Reader has the nickname, Bug.

After an argument with Sarah, that is so big it could be friendship breaking. You find comfort and shoulder to cry on, in Rafe.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

It started over a pair of shoes Sarah had borrowed. It wasn't even about the shoes, but it spiralled as quickly as it started, and soon, you were hurling the most spiteful things at each other.

Using your years of friendship and deepest insecurities to hit each other were you knew it would hurt.

Ever since she started dating John B, your friendship slowly started to fray. It wasn't like you had experienced in with her past relationships, she throw herself completely into them, and you were always there to pick up the pieces.

This time, you weren't prepared to be a broken piece.

That's how you ended up pushing your bike down the long drive of Tanneyhill. Shoes in the basket and tears threatening to spill. You breathed in through your nose, desperately trying not to break before you were away from a place you used to see as a second home.

You focused on the warmth of the sun on your face, the sound of the bike wheels spinning, anything to stop yourself spiralling.

"Hey!" You closed your eyes at the sound of his voice as his truck pulled up beside you. "Where you going, Bug?"

Of course, Rafe came home at that exact moment. The teasing tone of his voice, you couldn't deal with. Bug was something he'd always called you. It was meant to be an insult when you were children, and it just stuck.

You didn't respond and kept walking, causing him to frown. Normally you’d have some sassy remark or a come back to make him smile.

Rafe was just as much a part of your life as Sarah was. The annoying but unfairly gorgeous best friend's older brother. Your relationship was built on teasing, hating, and loving each other. As you grow, so did new feelings, and a few stolen kisses had been shared through the years, but nothing ever came of them.

"Bug?" His voice sounded more concerned.

You sniffed and straight your back, hoping your voice wouldn't break when you finally spoke to him.

"I'm going home." You had no such luck as your voice cracked.

"With your parents away? Weren't you staying here?"

"Well, plans change. Maybe I could throw a massive party. Who knows?" The only party you actually planned was a pity party for one, with your bed.

Rafe actually laughed. "You having a house party? Never thought I'd see that day." He tilted his head, looking you up and down. "Was it Sarah's idea?"

Of course, he would think Sarah was the one who would make you have a party in your parents' artefact filled house. They were both archaeologists. The funny part was that before the argument, she had been suggesting it. A pogue and kook party in your parents' manor style home.

Her name pierced your heart, and all you could do was shake your head as the tears that had been threatening to finally fall.

"Hey, whoa whoa whoa." Rafe quickly stumbled out of the truck, leaving the engine running and door wide open.

He gently took your face in his hands as your nose wrinkled, a tiny sob heaved from your chest. You dropped your bike on the grass as you held onto his wrists. Everything suddenly came crushing down. The weight of every hurtful word feeling like a brick on your chest.

His thumbs brushed the tears away as they kept falling. "Breathe for me, baby." He got you to copy his steady breaths as his blue, concerned, filled eyes searched your face.

Rafe checked quickly for any physical injury before pulling you into his chest. You could hear his heart beating just as rapidly as yours as his arms circled your shoulders and hands cradled your head. Calming shushes uttered from his lips as your sobs turned to slient hiccups.

"Can you tell me what happened?" He needed to know who the fuck made you cry and who to kill.

"Sarah," you sighed into his chest, your tears having soaked his shirt.

"Sarah's a bitch" He said without missing a beat.

"Then I'm a bitch too. We both said some pretty fucked up things" You still clung to the back of his shirt as you muttered.

"You can be," He admitted, but his tone was completely teasing. "The difference is, I like you"

You laughed, unable to help it as you let go, pulling back after he placed a kiss on your head. You wiped your eyes roughly and rubbed your nose with the back of your hand as you sniffed. "I'm sorry about the shirt"

He pulled it out to look at the watermark you left behind and shrugged before looking back at you, "Even with tear-stained cheeks and snort, your beautiful"

"Shut up." you hit his shoulder but still smiled at him as he held your hand in place.

Sarah appeared in the doorway. "Can we talk?" She asked. You turned to look at her as Rafe threw a protective arm over your shoulders.

Your smile immediately dropped, and Rafe shot Sarah a look so deadly that if looks could kill, she'd be laying stone cold right there.

"Not right now, Sarah." Rafe called over to her. "I'm taking Bug to get ice cream"

"How does ice cream sound, baby?" He glanced down at you as you nodded.

"Ice cream sounds perfect"

Rafe drove you to the ice cream parlour, his hand in your lap as Sarah was left watching you take comfort from her brother while your bike lay abandoned on the grass. The shoes long forgotten.

#rafe cameron #outer banks rafe #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks fic #rafe x reader #outerbanks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #outerbanks angst #rafe request

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johns-prince · 5 months

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John was being honest when he described himself as dead lazy, and so having a partner and bff like Paul was perfect for him since Paul is such a workaholic and can hardly sit still.

John needed a push, someone who could carefully and patiently nudge and drive him along, or at least light the fire under his butt, because if not he could become listless, lethargic, and stuck. I'd say this was pretty obvious during the 70s.

Paul was perfectly suited for John in this, like in so many other ways too. Paul seemed not at all bothered, but quite comfortable with this position in their relationship, as far as I can tell. I'm thinking back to Paul making his way to John's house in Kenwood, that he'd often have to wake John up, this involving cups of tea or coffee. Maybe they did some writing and playing, maybe they didn't, as Paul said it was his way to get out of London.

Or, how Paul, John, and Ringo (sans George) had to do a Christmas recording, and how Paul, the whole time, was gently and patiently urging John on to just do it.

I think they're a perfect encapsulation of their relationship, these moments and memories caught.

They both gave each other a harmless need to compete, and to accomplish, together. I mean I'm sure there were plenty of times Paul's patience wore thin with John, and I'm sure John was very intentional in needling that, but insofar that I can tell, Paul really did have exceedingly, almost near limitless patience and love for John as both a partner and a friend.

John needed that, he needed someone like Paul, who could truly and unapologetically put up with him, and love him, and still want to work with him every day, day and night.

Even when the band broke up, the divorce finalized, and John was both loving and hating Paul in tandem for the next ten years... Paul was desperate to write with John again, and John was desperate just to write, you see.

PLAYBOY: But wasn’t it clear that John wanted only to work with Yoko?

LINDA: No. I know that Paul was desperate to write with John again. And I know John was desperate to write … desperate. People thought, Well, he’s taking care of Sean, he’s a house-husband and all that, but he wasn’t happy. He couldn’t write and it drove him crazy. And Paul could have helped him—easily.”

— Linda on John and Paul in the late 70’s and 1980. (X)

While Yoko was definitely driven and career oriented, that didn't necessarily mean she influenced, inspired, or drove John on herself. Not in the way Paul did. I think that's pretty evident, considering he subsumed himself to "house husband", only occasionally baking bread before even that lost his interest, in which he'd keep to lazing about, sleeping hours on end, and mindlessly watching tv.

John was no house husband, the role he took with Yoko was pretty far removed from his potential, even with Cynthia it wasn't that bad.

With Paul, John even thought of writing musicals, and he apparently wasn't even that fond of musicals—but if Paul wanted to do it, like so many other things, then why couldn't John? If John had Paul, then he could do just about anything and everything, really.

“MM: In the early days, did John and Paul really write together?

MARTIN: Yes, but they also wrote separately. “Please Please Me” and “From Me To You” and “I Want To Hold Your Hand” were undoubtedly collaborative efforts. They’d sit down and literally construct the songs together. I can’t remember the first individual songs, although obviously even before I met them they were writing individually, but if you go through them you can hear which of them are John-oriented and which are Paul-oriented. “Yesterday” is obviously Paul, and that’s an interesting point because it was the first time we ever used anyone other than Beatles on a record. There was no one on that record but Paul and a string quartet.

MM: Did you notice them growing apart, developing distinct personalities?

MARTIN: Paul and John had their own identifiable styles: Paul was the syrupy one and John was the hard one. But the rift wasn’t there then. They were really a unit.

MM: Could you tell me what you think of what each one has done individually since the last Beatles record?

MARTIN: I have great admiration for George. He’s done tremendously because it’s a sort of devotion to duty as far as he’s concerned. We forced him into being a loner, I guess … he could never collaborate with anybody in his writing and therefore when the split came he had more strength because he was forced to be alone. He learned an awful lot about producing, studio techniques, and so on, so that he was able … obviously, any one of them had the power - because they had the money - to spend as much time in the recording studio as they liked, and I know that when George made his album he spent six months doing nothing but overdubbing his own voice 16 times and producing his album. To have the tenacity to do that in itself is something of an achievement, but to go along and actually produce good sounds and good music and good lyrics with it is tremendous. I’m full of admiration for that.

I think the other two have suffered by comparison, because they’ve each indulged themselves in their own way. John’s become more obvious in a way … “Power To The People” is a rehash of “Give Peace A Chance,” and it isn’t really very good. It doesn’t have the intensity that John’s capable of. Paul, similarly with his first album … it was nice enough, but very much a home-made affair, and very much a little family affair. I don’t think he ever really rated it as being as important as the stuff he’d done before.

I don’t think Linda is a substitute for John Lennon, any more than Yoko is a substitute for Paul McCartney.”

— George Martin, Melody Maker Interview, 1971. (X)

John was very partner orientated. He needed someone, whether he liked it or not, and he needed them to need him too.

He didn't like being a husband, but he liked having a wife, someone there for him constantly, who loves him and will care for him. John had Cynthia for that, at the start. John had Pete as his partner in crime, bestest of mates, when they were just kids.

Then, John had Paul, and turns out, Paul just about covered all of that, too, and plus it. A best friend, a coconspirator, a wife, a collaborator, his partner, his rival and his greatest ally and muse. Cherry on top, Paul needed John just as badly, madly. Maybe John never saw it that way, maybe that was why he had his fear, his insecurity that Paul never really needed him as much as John needed him.

“IRVIN: Back then people were very keen on knowing who the leader of the group was…

GEORGE M.: Yes, I was. When I first auditioned them I said, “Who’s going to be the leader, is it John or Paul?” Such an odd couple really, because they were diferent and yet very similar, both had big egos, both very good songwriters, but they needed each other like mad.

IRVIN: Did they really like each other? It wasn’t just a competitive partnership.

GEORGE M.: Oh no, they loved each other! They were brothers, and like brothers they pissed each other off quite a lot. John could be maddening at times, Paul can be very bossy and even more maddening and George would get fed up with both of them. But they did love each other and adored what the other did and had an incredible bond.

Paul always took inspiration from John, especially in his lyric-writing. ‘Eleanor Rigby’, for example, wouldn’t have happened without John’s influence. Paul wrote all of it but John’s influence was there and similarly John was knocked out by the freshness Paul brought to melodies and harmonies. He learnt from Paul how to put in the odd chord that choked you up a bit.”

— George Martin, interview w/ Jim Irvin for Mojo: Sir George Martin: The Mojo interview. (March, 2007) (X)

I think I've gone off tangent, but the point of this was to say, John was dead lazy, vastly intelligent and talented, but very prone to sloth. Paul was a rather perfect stopper to that. He could whip John up, get him moving, shaking, ever patient and ever loving, just the right enough of mean, bitchy and stubborn, smart and quick tongued, to meet John toe-to-toe. Like a house on fire these two fired each other up, talk about all-consuming and intense.

They were pretty perfectly matched for each other.

“It was like a tug of war. Imagine two people pulling on a rope, smiling at each other and pulling all the time with all their might. The tension between the two of them made for the bond.”

— George Martin on Lennon/McCartney (X)

#mclennon #john lennon #paul mccartney #anthology of mclennon #anyways george martin knew what was up

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saintvainglorious · 3 months

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My First Fanbind! A Black Sails Fic Anthology Series

It took me a year (and a lot of anxious research) before I worked up the courage to bookbind fanfiction, and after months of on-again-off-again work, my first fanbind is finally done!

I knew that if I was going to bookbind fic, I had to bind something from the Black Sails fandom, aka the fandom and show that have had the biggest impact on my life. Y'all, I almost went into academia to study slavery in the 17th-18th century Caribbean because of this show - when folks say this show rewires your brain chemistry, they are NOT kidding. THEE show of all time. Happy 10th anniversary to Black Sails! This fandom is small but mighty. May we continue to get our hearts and souls blasted to smithereens by this show for many years to come.

Ao3 abounds with magnificent Black Sails oneshots, so I decided to put together an anthology of my favorite Silverflint fics under 20k, which I split into two volumes. Included are works by @justlikeeddie, @vowel-in-thug, @balloonstand, @annevbonny, @francisthegreat, @nysscientia, and more! Thank you, thank you all, you brilliant wonderful people, for gracing the Internet with such amazing writing. When I read the fics in these anthologies I want to fling myself into the sun.

More on the design and binding process below the cut!

Vol. 1 Page Count: 270 (12 fics) Vol. 2 Page Count: 248 (11 fics) Body Font: Sabon Next LT (10.5 pt) Title Font: Goudy Old Style Other Fonts: IM Fell English, pirates pw

The typeset (which I did in Word) took a while, mainly because I'd never done it before. Manually adjusting the hyphenation line-by-line was especially tedious. After making these books, I abandoned Word in favor of InDesign, in large part because InDesign gives you way finer control over your justification and hyphenation settings.

Regarding my actual design choices, I'm happy with how the ocean motif on the title page turned out (it's not the same pattern as my endpapers, but they're complimentary) and I'm very fond of my divider dingbats, which are little swords! Goudy Old Style was a fun title font to use, since it's the font that Black Sails uses as its logo. The stories in Vol. 1 are divided into parts based on what Silver WAS at that point in the show (cook, quartermaster, or king), and Vol. 2 is split up into comedies, histories (AUs set in the canon universe) and tragedies - befitting Black Sails' Shakespearean ~vibes~.

I stuck to a flatback binding, as I wasn't feeling quite ambitious enough to try rounding and/or backing. I've learned that I ~Anakin Skywalker voice~ hate sanding, enjoy folding/sewing, and don't LIKE edge trimming but enjoy the results enough to make it worth it.

The real adventure was decorating the cover, which remained bare for months. After agonizing over Illustrator and experimenting unsuccessfully with HTV and lokta paper embossing, I ultimately turned to using stencil vinyl to paint on the designs. There was a bit of seepage under some of the stencils, but I was able to scrape off the excess with my Cricut weeding tool without damaging the coated surface of the bookcloth (probably Arrestox Blue Ribbon from Hollander's). Even though it was very time-consuming, I'm so happy with the end result of the stenciled paint job and I intend to stick with stencils for my foreseeable future binds.

Are there things I would change? Sure. It was humid out when I printed, so the pages have got a wave. There’s an extra two pages in Vol 2. that I have no idea how I missed, and I got a line of glue in the middle of one of my Vol. 2 endpapers. I’m pretty sure I didn’t case in quite right, since my endpapers pull away from the case at the spine. I think the inner margins are a bit too big, and despite going line-by-line there’s still some wacky justification spacing in the typeset. But man, am I proud of these books! It is so satisfying to learn a new skill - MANY new skills, if we’re being honest - and to make something both beautiful and practical. If I’m still binding in two years or so, I can see myself redoing the typeset in InDesign, cutting out the existing text block, and reusing the cases. I’m also already planning for Vol. 3, which will be Silverflint Modern AUs.

Thanks for reading!

#bookbinding #fanbinding #ficbinding #my books #black sails #silverflint #fanfiction #bsanniversary #10yearsblacksails #10bsfest

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braxlrose · 10 months

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things i imagine 2023 bf bill does

cw: oral (f! and m!recieving), fingering, etc

• if you've been together since the 2000s, he's so so so happy that you never judged him for how he looked and that even though his style changed you still stuck with him. he knows that's the bare minimum but he's experienced first hand how some people treat him because of how he looks and he loves that you're not like that

• obviously, yall still go shopping together like in the 2000s and it's tons of fun. he loves it when you two try on studded jackets together and when you pick out cute platform boots for him

• you two once had the greatest birthday sex in the history of birthday sex because you got him the "greatest platforms in the world!!". His words.

• and I mean it ^^, it went on for like 2 hours and by the time you guys were done you were ready to pass out. but he also had some other gifts to open 🤩

• his aftercare was literally amazing in the 2000s, but it's gotten even better with time. if it was super intense sex, he will not let go of you. even if you were subbing, with intense sex both doms and subs need aftercare.

• MATCHING HALLOWEEN COSTUMES 🗣🗣🗣 also you better hype of bill for whatever costume he does. like that year he did Ariel. If you didn't hype him up 😒 what are you even doing?

• going out and buying costumes with him for concerts

• he said in a tiktok live once that he does out to restaurants for every meal. breakfast, lunch and dinner. so you two do that basically everyday and you guys always order too much food and end up having left overs

• ‼️BAKING WITH HIM‼️

• you guys know how he loves his cheesecakes so you two make him all the time. and he teaches you how to bake some of his family recipes. but it always ends up with you guys a total mess because you were fooling around.

• also the mf is still a massive tease 💀 like bruh back off for two goddamn seconds

• like while you're kneeding dough he'd come up behind you and press his crotch into your ass and act like he was just grabbing a measuring cup. and the mf would just be smirking his ass off if your face got red

• tiktok lives all the time and you two bake together on those two. and sometimes tom comes in and helps you guys.

• cockwarming on tiktok lives 😍😍😍 (someone has gotta write that because oh em geeeeee I'm squirming and squeezing my thighs just thinking about it)

• he bites in bed. like when he's fingering you he'll bite your boob or literally any squishy part of you. and will get horny the next day if he sees you have bite marks on your body.

• he loves going to the beach with you. and you guys go with Tom and Heidi all the time too.

• now im very pale you guys. i hate tanning, I never want to be tan. It's just not for me, so if you're like that too bill will literally lather you in sonnencreme and bring an umbrella for you to stay under

• now if you're not like me and you like to tan then bill will buy you tanning oil and that mirror thing (I hope yall know what I'm talking about bc idk what its called)

• he gives you head scratches all the time because he always has long nails and it feels so good

• ON THAT NOTE, bill rarely fingers you because of his nails, but on the days he doesn't have any acrylic nails, he'll finger you like no tomorrow. but other than that he sticks to eating you out

• bakes you a cake all by himself for your birthday 🎂 he makes sure to get whatever flavor you like the best. strawberry, vanilla, chocolate, red velvet, whatever you want he'll do it. he decorates it himself and is very proud

• talks about you all the time in interviews and is smiling his ass off every time

• doing skincare together is a must!! you two have so much skin care stuff it's insane. serums, face masks (peel off, paper, clay, etc), lotions, moisturizers, oils, lip masks. literally everything.

• HE LOVES DOING YOUR MAKEUP and he gets so happy when you let him do it

• date nights with him are so much fun because you get to get all dressed up in a sexy outfit and go out to a fancy restaurant. plus the night usually ends in sex

• he loves it when you play with his rings on his fingers

• living room dance parties and karaoke happens all the time and you always end up on the floor laughing your asses off

• he buys Polaroid cameras and takes pictures of you guys all the time. at the mall shopping, on the beach, making sandcastles, you eating, baking together, him dicking you down with his cum all over your chest (who said that⁉️)

• showering together and doing hair masks

• loves pre and post concert head from you 😉

• binge watching TV shows together is something you two do a bunch. he gets all pouty if he found out you watched an episode without him.

• you guys manicures and pedicures all the time and you're always giggling and laughing with eachother the entire time

taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @spelaelamela @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @tokiiohot @bluepoptartwithsprinkles @saumspam @5hyslv7

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xxzlushiez · 11 months

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Can you do tom x f!reader who's in the band and they were always like bestfriends no feelings for eachother or anything but as they get older like around 2007/08 he starts to realize he's totally in love w/ reader and tries to get rid of his feelings by sleeping w/ a bunch of girls but nothing helps because he can only think of reader? And they end up going to a party together and having fun and shii and then they end up on a balcony outside just drinking out of solo cups totally plastered and tom confesses to reader and kisses her but reader is super shocked and surprised and doesn't really know what to say so she doesn't kiss him back and just stares at him, and he doesn't take it very well he's just like "...oh.." and then gets up and reader tries to stop him and he's like "no, no I'm just gonna go back to the party" and stumbles out w/ a broken heart but in reality reader liked him back too but didn't know she did until he confesses so over the next few weeks she realizes how much she's in love with him and she goes to his room to tell him all romantic and shit and they end up having soft sex (or not wtv you're comfortable with) ty sm!! I love your writing btw!

EEEHHHH THIS IS SO CUTE IM SO EXCITED TO DO THIS (and tysm for the compliment❤️)

Miscommunication

T! Kaulitz x F! Reader

Synopsis: you and Tom have always been good friends, but he realizes he wants to be more..what’ll happen when those feelings don’t falter?

Notes: 18+, Name is in the band, flashbacks to ‘Devilish’, drinking, getting drunk, concerts, parties, jealousy, talks of unrequited feelings, Tom being a attention whore💀, insecurities, platonic! Bill x reader, oral, soft sex, underlying sub! Tom (I hate using that word but idk how else to describe it???)

A/N:tysm Anon for requesting and I hope this lives up to your expectations, I decided to right this in normal style instead of bullet points, I hope you don’t mind. This is was frustrated I wanted to get it out on the 3rd😭 bro this is a few days later and it took so long because i just hate the way it turned out im so pissed at myself rn

“I act like I don’t care, that’s cause I don’t care”

For as long as you’ve lived you and Tom have stuck together like glue, you lived a few streets away but being one of the only kids their age in the neighborhood it was hard for you to not gravitate towards them.

You guys weren’t exactly alike, but more like you complimented each other, he was all brash and broody like almost every other boy going through puberty and you were kind and sweet always helping whenever it was needed.

Soon you were invited into a band that consisted of two other troublemaking kids you hadn’t met yet, you traveled around to small talent shows and state fairs to perform music. It was a rough start; you weren’t popular by any means and were made fun of for what you liked to do.

It didn’t get to you like it got to Tom yet you let him rant and yell about it to you because you knew, along with everyone else, that it was just a matter of time before you five would be praised for your talents instead of bullied.

And you were, your band became a hit, Devilish became Tokio Hotel, garage performances became studio practices, and backyard shows slowly became country-wide concerts. Tom also changed, from a little boy who would yell at anyone who messed with his friends to a teen that couldn’t even bother with people hating.

It was different, you were all different, but it was a good difference. Bill became confident, Tom became more open, Gustav wasn’t shy, and Georg was well…Georg was amazing to begin with, it just doubled. The few fans that consisted of you guy’s parents and a few old neighbors became thousands, girls and boys alike paid to come and watch the five of you perform live.

When 2009 rolled around you were known across all of Germany and a few other countries. You couldn’t have been more successful, as the years progressed Tom morphed into someone completely different. Everyone knew of his reputation, a boy who had a new girl in his car every day.

You guys didn’t drift per se, but you didn’t talk about all the things like you used to. That was okay, some things are better left unsaid, but it was weird. You both used to talk to each other about everything and it just changed so suddenly it left you confused for a while.

But you learned to accept the fact that he wasn’t the same and took advantage of that time to get closer to the rest of the band, especially Bill. He became your number 1, always there with you whether it be shopping to helping you get ready. This was one of those instances where you ended up in your shared hotel room with him and Tom.

“This is going to look really good on your Name I promise!”

You let Bill practice his makeup skills on you, a little hesitant at first because of the particular style but when you saw how his face lit up when you agreed you couldn’t say no. Bill also said the style suited you perfectly.

Tonight, was particularly special compared to other nights. It was a large party hosted by a company in celebration of Tokio Hotel’s rise to fame. Bill made it a goal to doll you up in fancy lipstick and glittery eyeshadow before leaving, which Tom wasn’t too keen on.

“Bill hurry up the party starts in like 20 minutes.”

You looked over a Tom from the corner of your eye. He was sprawled out on your bed flicking through the channels on the hotel’s tv. He was already ready and had been ready for at least an hour now.

“Be patient Tommy not everyone can just wear whatever they find on the floor.”

Bill let out a laugh when he saw how offended his brother got at your insult before turning back and applying pretty shade to your lips.

“Tom wah wah hurry up the party starts in 20 minutes blah blah blah!”

He mocked his brother in a high-pitched voice before pulling his brother from the bed and onto the hard floor with a thump! grabbing your hand and running out of the room leaving him behind as you laugh.

“What the fuck you two! Get back here, I’m literally your ride to the party!”

———

The party was boring if you were being honest. But that was probably just you. There was no one you knew except the band and some celebrities and they were all doing their own thing so you were stuck lying on one of the many plush sofas the company had lying around.

Your eyes trailed over to Tom as he walked towards you, handing you a vibrant red solo cup while he settled himself next to you on the couch, moving your legs to lay comfortably over his lap while you stared at the contents of the cup.

“What’re you doing just sitting here? You’re always in the mood to party.”

He was right, you loved to party. It was one of the only times you could let loose when on tour. Today you just weren’t feeling it like you usually were.

“I don’t know, I think it’s the fact that I ordered a Pina Colada and got vodka. But who knows.”

He hummed as he absentmindedly observed the area. Tom had an unusual habit of wanting to be around you but never talking, preferring silence, it never bothered you so you let your head lay against the armchair swirling the drink around in your hand as you observed him.

He was never really good at taking your compliments, always avoiding them in some way with a “What’re you talking about?” Or the “Name just shut the fuck up”. You figured it had to do with the whole ‘I’m too cool for compliments’ thing he had going on, but it never stopped you from slipping up and saying something every once in a while.

“You're so beautiful Tom” and he was, honestly. His eyes reflected the neon lights that flashed above giving him that euphoric effect, the curves and dips of his face were perfectly sculpted to him. His true smile was so unbelievably cute, one that only you and the band had the pleasure of seeing, and his laugh…oh my god his laugh. You were definitely drunk. Whatever.

He gave you a quick side eye at the sudden praise before getting up and grabbing the cup out of your hand successfully spooking you.

“Let’s go smoke.”

‘Let’s go smoke’ was usually his way of saying “you're being annoying, let's get high” but you nodded and took his waiting hand as he led you through the busy crowd and out some double doors.

When out on the fairly sized balcony he grabbed a joint from out of one of the side pockets on his pants, while you flicked open your lighter that you had found stuffed under some gum and candy wrappers in your handbag.

He always enjoyed it when you smoked together, the delicate flame illuminated your face just enough to see the features that he’d always admired. Maybe that’s why he hated it when you complimented him, because he always wanted to do the same but couldn’t.

Nervousness wasn’t something he felt. There was no reason for him to be nervous. Nerves were for insecurity, anxiousness, that was bullshit to him, well until it came to you, and that oh so familiar feeling bubbled up in his stomach when you looked at him under the dim light.

He concluded that he had a thing for you pretty early on, when he was about 16. One time you pulled a fan on stage that you told the band you found particularly attractive. Bill teased you and Georg and Gustav laughed as you all made your way to the bus, but he stayed back. Deciding that the pit in his stomach wasn’t jealousy like he thought it might be and just that natural protective feeling for a friend.

He didn’t want to think about the possibility that he liked you. You’d always been best friends and that was how it was supposed to say. He remembers how Bill would always tell him “Being best friends with someone like Name isn’t a good idea” because he wouldn’t wanna be just friends. Bill was right and that scared him.

After that realization he took notice of who he gravitated towards in hookups, they all looked in some way, like you. He thought it was weird. It wasn’t like he selectively picked out the ones with similar features as you…right?

“-Tom, are you listening? Pass the joint you hog”

You plucked the blunt from his hand and he stared as you inhaled some of it, releasing the air into his face, looking at him with a weird expression. You watched him stride forward and suddenly his lips were pressed against yours.

You pulled away after a few antagonizing seconds and hesitantly looked at him. You saw the way his face dropped, probably realizing what he just did. Shit.

“Tom I... you're drunk. It’s fine, okay? You won’t remember this in the morning let’s just...let’s just go home, okay?”

That nerve quickly turned into frustration as he rolled his eyes turning towards the entrance and muttering something under his breath before pushing through the doors back into the party, leaving you alone on the cold balcony with a burnt out joint and heart.

———

It had been a few weeks since the incident on the balcony, and you concluded that he did remember it the day after as he wouldn’t talk or even be around you alone. It was fine at first, but by the time the second week rolled around it was starting to affect everyone else.

His performance was slower than normal, and he brought more girls to the hotel who unsurprisingly leaked where he was were staying and crowded around the hotel to catch a glimpse of the five of you.

He was being so unprofessional; he didn't give you time to voice your feelings about what happened and just up and left you in the dark. Like how do you even bring that up?

“Hey Tom, yeah I know that I didn’t kiss you back even though you totally unexpectedly pounced on me and it looked like I rejected you because I thought you were full-on plastered but like I’m in love with you so could you stop ignoring me?”

Yeah, that’s a no. So, you just endured it for a while until he decided to lay off. That point happened around the 3-week mark when the band was on a small break from tour.

He made it his goal to stay inside his room the whole time, sulking as Bill told you. You were at ends meet, if he couldn’t just talk to you about it like adults then you would have to do it yourself.

This leads up to the moment where you’re standing in front of his door contemplating all your life choices.

Crrrrrreeeakkk

Are you serious, the one time you were hesitant about your decision he just had to open the door and make it for you?

“Name?”

“Hey, Tom uhh..can we talk about the party?” This is so awkward. What the fuuck.

He stood there hesitant for a second before opening up the door for you to come in. You ducked under his arm and situated yourself at the edge of his bed as he stared at you from the doorway.

“Okay um..so I’ve been thinking a lot about that moment and I just wanted to ask you something.”

He gave you a small nod of acknowledgment and you continued.

“Do you like me? Like I don’t know if the reason you kissed me was just heat of the moment and you just got upset because you were drunk and your feelings were all mixed or something but I really want us to go back to normal…I miss you a lot and it's weird not seeing you at our practices”

You watched him closely for any signs of discomfort but his face was unwavering except for a light smile at your words easing your nerves only a little.

“I like you; I’ve liked you for years And Scheiße I miss you too but don’t wanna be just your friend anymore and if that changes things between us just forget about this whole thing”

You smiled softly walking towards him and cupping his face with your hands, bringing your lips to his feeling him relax into you.

His breath caught in his throat when you grazed your fingers against the front of his pants, slightly palming him through the jeans when he abruptly pulled your hand away.

“Name I wanna do this with you…but I don’t wanna have sex like I normally do. I want it to mean something because you really mean something, I just don’t know how”

“Let me show you, Tom.”

——

Tom groaned when your lips pressed against his pelvis, muscles flexing underneath you at the feeling. You hummed in contentment before coming back up to him and giving him a quick kiss and taking off his boxers.

He’d never had someone take their time on him, it was foreign, different, you looked so pretty as you toyed with his cock. Seeing what made him shiver and what gave him goosebumps.

Laying your tongue flat you licked a thick strip up the underside of his dick watching the way his eyes roll back in pleasure.

“Mhm…just- just like that Name please mhm…keep going.”

Voice slightly weak, he begged you to continue, not like you’ve ever heard and it encouraged you to continue, hands slick with his precum you stroked him at a controlled pace, squeezing slightly at the head hearing his soft curses get louder.

“Let’s empty that brain of yours ‘mkay?”

While you made yourself comfortable on top of him you felt his hips shift under you, his hands finding place on your hips. You align yourself with his cock, sliding down and listening to the way he mutters your name like a prayer as his cock disappears inside you.

“Shit this is much better than I ever imagined… s’much better...” his eyes raked your body seeing his hips met your thighs. You push down on his legs to keep him steady and use them as leverage to grind against him. Not even minutes later did his quiet concealed groans turn into gasps and random obscenities.

Seeing your pace begin to slow he flips himself over taking you with him, letting your legs rest flush against his shoulders next to his ears. He experimentally rocks his hips finding a comfortable rhythm, laying his hand flat on your stomach feeling at the bulge.

Now it was your turn to be a noisy mess, covering your face with a pillow in an attempt to muffle yourself but it was quickly discarded somewhere on the floor by Tom.

“Don’t- don’t do that- you look so pretty writhing under me like that, I could stare at you all day…shit shit shit.. if you keep tightening around me, I won’t last long...”

You smiled as you looked up at him. His eyes were closed tight and his jaw was clenched tight, focused on how you squeezed around him. You let your hand travel to his face tracing his features. His eyes opened at the touch and he sucked in his breath, feeling his high approaching.

You were glowing, your hair fanned out on the bed, your eyes slightly glassy from his pace, sweat collecting on your hairline, suddenly every part of him felt so sensitive and his lips connected with yours before his hips stuttered letting out a guttural moan making sure you had ridden through your orgasm.

You cried out in his neck holding him against you as he continued for a little longer before coming to a halt, collapsing on top of you. Holding you against him in a vice grip.

“I love you Name, a lot”

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helloitstsyu · 7 months

Note

hello, I have a request for a tom cruise x reader fic based on the ariana grande song ‘fantasize’. that’s all, thank you xx

fantasize | Tom Cruise 18+

a/n : goshhhh this req is stuck in my mind for so long. finally I'm able to finish writing itt... i hope it fills your expectations! love the suggestion so much xx.

Pairing : Tom Cruise x f¡reader

Warning : unprotected sex, clothed sex, dirty talks, assume age gap, smut, minor dni!

Polo match.

You always hate when you're dragged to these kinda events. But your dad always insists on bringing you here. And since you just come back from college overseas, you owe it to him for a bit of quality time.

You would much rather stay at home or go out with your friends for a spa day or a pool party. Definitely not this. You feel awkward here and you don't know everyone here except your dad. Dad said it's not just about the game but it's about the networking. And so there he is, leaving you behind as he talks to his colleagues.

The game is about to start. Your dad calls for you. As you walk towards him, you see he's standing next to a man. His hair is perfectly styled. He's wearing a navy suit with a matching navy patterned tie. His eyes covered behind a sunglasses, but you kinda feel something about him is familiar, like you've seen him somewhere or something.

"Tom, i want you to meet my daughter." Dad places his hand behind your waist. Looks at you proudly, "She just came back from Harvard– took a double degree there while running her own business... couldn't get much prouder of my little cupcake." Your dad says.

Your dad has a habit of over-introducing you in front of people. "Dad, you're doing it again," you chuckle awkwardly as you shake your head.

Turning your head, you prolong your hand first for a shake. Shooting the man your most friendliest smile. "Hi, pleasure to meet you, i'm Y/N Y/L/N,"

He takes his glasses off and then shakes your hand.

That face. That eyes. Beat drops. You could feel your heart stop at the sight.

"Hi... I'm Tom,"

Cruise. He is Tom Cruise.

That's why you knew something about him is familiar, he's the freaking Hollywood god.

This shouldn't surprise you– to meet celebrities and all. Your dad works in the business as a producer. But something is different this time. Something is different about Tom Cruise. You almost feel like the air gets hotter. Perhaps it is him being so hot, or perhaps it's the way he stares at you with an intrigue in his eyes.

"So you're the famous Y/N Y/L/N... I've heard so much about you." He says, shooting a friendly smile.

"Yeah? Not the fun part, though," you mutter quietly.

Your dad and Tom both only stay silent and look at you, processing what you've just said.That came out of nowhere. The moment you realized you've said it, you regret it.

A few seconds pass with silence, but thankfully, your dad breaks into a laughter, lightening up the intense situation. "You're funny, sweetheart," your dad says. He must've not gotten the hidden intent behind what you said.

Tom however, just chuckles a little and a ghost smile appears on his face, his eyes light up as if he's enjoying some private humor. "Well.. I'd love to know more," Tom says. His gaze is unwavering and intense.

The event host then announces that the game is about to be started. You take your seat next to your dad. Tom is sitting a couple rows down from you, that doesn't stop you from keeping your eyes glued at him all the time.

For some reason, your heart is pounding mercilessly. You curse at yourself for being so stupid, muttering things out of your mouth before you think more about it. The way Tom gazed at you makes you feel some type of way, you're mentally and physically weak.

The way Tom moves a couple rows down there, the way he runs his fingers to his hair, the way his eyes dead-locked-focused watching the game as he chews a gum. That eyes, that jawline, that hair — Everything about this man just attracts every single bit of your cell. You're actually feeling all hot and horny right now.

Your mind starts to play on its own. Imagining what those lips would taste like. Imagining to run your fingers through that brunette strands. Imagining yourself getting fucked in this VIP little box — him pinning you down, he'd make you moaning hard, he'd pound mercilessly to you as he licks your moaning mouth. Oh, you'd give anything for him.

The loud cheer of the audience as the game ends awakes you back into reality. Somehow, you miss the whole game having your own preferred one in your head.

As you're about to leave your box, Tom comes to you and your dad again. Making some casual talks about the game and how great it was. You just stand there silence, still recovering from that heavy game you played in your mind.

"Cupcake," your dad turns around and calls for you, "If it's okay... i invite Tom to our lunch, i still have some business to discuss with him. I hope you're okay with it."

Before you can answer, your dad's phone rings. "Shit... hang on, sweetheart,"

"It's all fine, dad. I'll just go wait in the car." You say. You know whenever your dad's phone rings, that'll take some time. So rather than spending here talking with Tom and risking yourself to be flustered and caught in the open. You'd rather go back to your car and chill alone.

You get in your car and quickly turn on the air conditioning to the fullest setting. You sigh heavily.

You try to shake the picture of him in your head, trying to stop this feeling. You take a long breath in and just look at yourself from the rearview mirror. For some reason, you still feel horny. As if this feeling is not gonna go away until you're fed.

Looking around there's no one here around the parking lot. So you do what you gotta do to help yourself. You move to the back seat and lay down comfortably. You shut your eyes close and hoping that Tom is here. Hoping that Tom knows what he did to you, the feeling he inflicted on you.

All of a sudden, your door just pulled open, startling you to open your eyes and sit up. To your much surprise, it's Tom. He is ducking his head in.

"Tom? Wh-what are you doing?" You cluelessly ask.

"What needs to be done," he retorts in hushed voice.

He gets in and slams back the door close. In one quick motion, he lunges at you, grabs you by your face and kisses you. His lips on yours feel so soft and so burning at the same time— addicting, that's what he tastes like. You moan into his mouth, giving him just enough the opening. His tongue expertly exploring your mouth.

You have never been kissed like this. Your tongue tentatively plays back and joins his in an erotic movement. He gently pushes you back till you're laying down flat on the back seat with him on top of you. You're helpless, you're all pinned down, and he's restraining you with his whole body. You wrap your legs around his hips, allowing him to completely have his body pressed to yours. His hand explores your body, trailing the length of your thigh to your hips. Feeling something hardering, nudging you, you couldnt help to grind your center to his cock.

He hiss against your mouth. But Tom doesn't stop you or anything, rather he moves to kiss all over your chin, moving to your neck. The moment he sucks and nibs your sensitive skin, he got your eyes rolling back. You grip onto his jacket and swallows your edging moan.

"Tom..." you mutter.

Tom asks. Kiss more of your neck.

"Yes, darling?" Tom whispers in your ear before he gently bites your earlobe. Earning your jaw falls agape. He moves again to your collar bone, kissing you in the softest-teasing way.

He breathes against your flushed chest. His breath is hot, just like the way he makes you feel right now. He lays a soft, gentle kiss all across your flushed chest. Lowering himself even more as he gradually pulls your dress down along his way till your breast finally uncovered. He softly gasps at the sight of you. He glances to your eyes, lust covers in his gaze, before he places a kiss around your nipple.

You hiss, fingers grip onto his jacket.The moment he flick his tongue then sucks your nipple, you couldn't hold in your moan even more. "Ohh!" You moan.

Tom pushes himself off your neck and looks back into your eyes. "Come on, Y/N, show me how fun you can be," he challenges.

And just like that, the switch is being made. You turn off all of the good girl sides about you and this lust overdriving you into some dangerous character that'll put you in trouble. You pull him back to your lips and kiss him passionately. Your hands quickly run his body, feeling the toned muscles underneath. 60 or something, it is a joke that he's looking this damn hot at this age. You rub him from outside his pants.

You could feel Tom smirking against your lips. "Good girl," he chuckles.

You hurriedly take off his belt. Him helping you too. You push his trousers down just enough till you can grab his hard shaft and pulls it out from the torment of its lack of space. Tom groans as you wrap your hand around him. Fuck, he's big. And so hard. You pump his cock and spread his precum all over his shaft.

"Is that what you want?" Tom asks.

Glancing back to his eyes, you nod. "I want you to fuck me,"

A content smile appears on his face. He pushes your panties to the side and just pushes himself through your folds without warning.

"Ahh!" You squal uncomfortably to the unfamiliar size of him, gripping onto his shoulder.

Tom quickly bottoms out, pushing all the way of him inside of you. He doesn't wait for you to adjust to his size. He starts to pound his hips mercilessly into you, fucking you in a relentless pace.

"Ohhh! Fuck! ToOoMMm!" You shut your eyes and titled your head back.

"Yes! Yes! That's it moan my name!" He grins loving the way your face contorts to pleasure drunk. "You wanted my cock the moment you laid your eyes on me, huh? Looking at me with all of that slutty eyes, you know what you're doing, darling," he says to your ears as his cock pounds mercilessly to your tight channel.

You couldn't reply to him even if you wanted to. You only look back to him and nod.

"Oh, T-tom!" You cry. Tears dripping down your cheek.

"Fuck, Y/N" he groans. Tom holds your face. He presses his lips to yours again, silencing you from screaming loud.

He got you a moaning mess that you don't care if someone could hear you or see this little scene in your car. You never fucked like this before. So good that you'd do anything to have him fuck you like this again and again. You'd give your pussy for him, five to nine, nine to five. Tom fucks you like the way you fantasize your filthiest fantasies.

You feel your walls clenching hard. And the white hot pleasure becomes too unbearable to hold back. A few more thrust, and you're spilling all over. You squal all over the car. Knees clamping together as all of your muscles tighten.

You never have orgasm like that. It is by far your most intense that after the pinnacle, you feel bliss. For a few seconds, the room is so quiet — so peaceful...

You open your eyes and stare at the roof of your car. All of a sudden, like a slap to your face, waking you back into reality, your door is pulled open from the outside. Quickly, you sit up and try to fix yourself, push down your dress and all but it is all helpless. You're so caught right-handed. Looking up, the person who caught you right-handed guilty is the one you hope for dear life it wont be— Tom Cruise. He's peering down, slightly bending to meet your eyes.

You feel so embarrassed that you couldn't even feel a thing or think anything.

"Your dad wanted me to tell you lunch is off... meetings." He tells.

You just sit there feeling like you're slowly crippling to die. The optimistic side of you still whispers that perhaps he didn't see nothing. You have a tinted window afterall.... do you?

Tom gaze down at you with that light up, amused emerald eyes. Then slightly the corner of his lips pulled up to a smirk, like he's been there for a while and just watched you pleasuring yourself.

"Have a great day, Y/N," he mischievously smiles and closes back your door.

#tom cruise #tom cruise x reader #tom cruise fanfiction #tom cruise smut #pete maverick mitchell #tom cruise fic #tom cruise x female reader #top gun maverick #pete mitchell x reader #maverick x reader #daddy smut #tom cruise fanfic #tom cruise fluff #ethan hunt fic #ethan hunt

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themotherofhorses · 1 year

Note

Hi author first of wanted to say I love your work !

I'm not sure if you take requests so if you don't feel free to delete this 💛

Modern spy Aemond x naive reader [ Aemond meets her when he's on a mission and becomes obsessed with her how can someone be so sweet and innocent !? He just has to have her also baby trapping and smut if you're comfortable writing it ]

follow me now, and you will not regret (leaving the life you led before we met)

pairing: modern spy!aemond targaryen x naive!reader

warnings: explicit language. stalking. very much nsfw smut. once again, aemond is an obsessive and pussywhipped little bitch with zero thoughts within his pretty knocker. manipulation. innocence kink. breeding kink/baby trapping at the end.

notes: hi, yes, this is me coursing through uncharted and absolutely fucking rough waters in some attempt to spice up my usual smut writing style

(aka me practicing for the next chapter of my modern series)

masterlist

A career life built solely around espionage (or a sort of black shadow warfare mixed with cold combat) came dirty, bloody, and uncertain.

Or, at least, that was what Aemond “The One-Eyed White Death” Targaryen would tell himself on the daily, in some attempt at justifying the ends to the means. Really, this entire situation could have been a lot worse, he thought- after all, the lives of countless innocent civilians could have been caught within his crosshairs. He hated when that happened; it was always so messy, and came with heavy and boring paperwork.

However, that was not the case this time, thankfully.

It was only one innocent civilian in his hands, and she was still safe and sound.

Aemond had never meant to stick around the city for so long, having other missions queued up after this one, but fuck…you were perfect. Godsent, the prettiest and most delicious slice of heaven above, and he did not consider himself a godly man, nowhere near in the slightest. The gods loathed his type, he knew, and never hesitated in casting them all down to the pits of hell.

But you…

He had met you during the mission, while stuck undercover at some random little café on the corner street. The boss sent him to stake out some old-money and big-named crime mobster that was allegedly dealing weapons and various drugs under the noses of local law enforcement, a suspect on their “Most Wanted” board. And you- well, you were tucked away in a small booth, hunched over two thick college textbooks while multiple paper assignments laid strewed across the table top, so unaware of his presence sitting tables away on the other side of the room.

Gods, you were absolutely gorgeous, he thought. So fucking pretty, with those eyelashes and charm bracelet and focused look on your face. It made him forget all about his original mission. Fuck that, he has a new one now. And there was the cutest pout on your pink and glossy lips that made his cock harden, despite not having the faintest clue on what your name could be.

(That itself was no concern of his, he could find it out later in the evening. And he eventually did.)

You were there at the café the following day, and the day after that. Always with your head in those damn school books, his pretty and dutiful schoolgirl. The sight made him chuckle, and smile, and fill with the strongest urge to ruin you completely with his mouth, and fingers, and cock. On the fifth day, he finally decided to step up to your table, interrupting your usual study schedule with a shy smile and your favorite drink in hand, as well as a chocolate chip cookie.

“I- uh, I hope you don’t mind, miss,” he said, feigning bashfulness, “but I’ve seen you around everyday for this past week and thought, maybe, you wouldn’t mind being friends? I’m new in town, actually…and- well, I don’t know a lot of people around here…” he added, watching your pretty eyes widen.

And, fuck, your lips were glossy again, and he stood there (like a complete idiot) wondering what flavor they could possibly taste like.

Cherries?

Strawberries? Blueberries?

Maybe mimosa or peppermint patties?

“Oh, well, of course! I don’t mind whatsoever,” you replied cheerfully, rousing butterflies in Aemond’s stomach. “I’d be happy to be your friend,” and you patted at the spot next to yours, slugging away your tote bag and books so that he could sit down, and you could introduce yourself.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Aemond became your friend, first. The easiest way to manipulate your unsuspecting victims? Through trust and friendships, per the teachings of his old childhood mentors back at the academy. Throughout the next month, he bought you hot chocolate and matcha tea lattes, joined you in quick lunch dates, insisted on driving you to your college classes, and went with you to the little bookstores scattered across the city. It was fun…and torturous- utter torment and near physical agony- because all he wanted to do was fuck your pretty pussy until you could no longer remember your name and your cunt was to the shape of his own cock.

He would sit beside you in the café booth, listening as you drone on and on about your favorite, most passionate subjects, all while trying to desperately hide the boner in his jeans and rid his mind of such dirty thoughts and fantasies. There was no use, though. Aemond was fucked, too addicted and obsessed.

He wanted you, now and forever.

But that was not the worst part. The worst part was that you had not the smallest clue of what you were doing to him. You were just his sweet companion, his dear friend, too innocent and naïve to both the world and the waking beast deep within him.

He often followed you back home, to that tiny apartment near the college. Aemond swore it was because he wanted to make sure you were safe and protected from any of his enemies, anyone daring to steal you away from him, but he knew it was more due to the chances of seeing you undress and shower and decide which nightie you would wear to bed. And, sometimes, he got treated to his sweet girl trying to touch herself. It was so cute, so endearing, to watch you slip a hand between your thighs only to pause because you had no idea of what to do, and how to fuck your own fingers inside your cunt until you came.

Poor, sweet girl of mine, Aemond shook his head, tutting. Alone and in need.

How could someone so pretty, such a fucking cock-tease, be so innocent and untouched, so stupid and unknowing to everything sexual?

It did not make any sense to him.

Maybe you were made for him, and only him, and this was the gods’ gentle way of telling him to change his ways before it was too late. Leave behind this career of his, wash away all the red staining his ledger and hang up his callsign, all so he can start a family with you. The family he needs, the one he deserves.

Yes, he thought, that makes more sense. You need him the same way he needs you.

And, really, who was he to ignore the gods above? Aemond himself was no godly man, it was not in the nature of a spy like him- but for you, perhaps the fates might allow it.

Two months later, after a dinner date, Aemond has you pressed against your apartment’s door, his mouth frantically devouring yours in a fervent and wet kiss. It has been so long, so torturous, weeks after weeks of constant late-night jerking off to your pretty pictures and those blue-laced panties he managed to slip from your bedroom that one afternoon and pretending that all he wants to be is your friend.

You are so beautiful, so stunning, especially within this very moment, chest heaving out heavy breaths while you peer up at him as if he is a god.

He grabs at your face, a rough grip on your chin. “Tell me you want it tonight,” he demands, his lips near your ear. You shiver and clutch at his arms, so close to melting into nothing but putty in his hands. “Want what, Aemond?” you ask innocently, batting your dark eyelashes up at him. Fucking cock-tease. He chuckles while trailing light kisses along your jawline and down your neckline, mouthing at your nape and clavicle. You mewl at the feeling. “Please- please, don’t stop…”

“Do my kisses feel good, baby?”

“Yes,” you sigh out, tangling your fingers within his silver hair, “it feels amazing.”

He smirks. “It will feel a whole lot better in a little while, I promise you, sweet girl. But I need to ask…do you trust me?” You nod frantically, leaning up to kiss his lips. “Of course, Aemond. You are my dearest friend! I trust no one more than you.” Aemond just laughs at your words, yearning so badly to tell you that- by the end of the night- your cute ass will no longer be ‘just his friend’ but something much more, definitely.

But where is the fun in that?

“Good, good. Just relax and enjoy everything, okay?”

Aemond then pushes you back against the door, quickly slipping off the pretty floral top you wore and groaning at how your lacy bra cupped your breasts perfectly. Where have you been all my life? He thinks while snaking his hands around your back to unhook your brace and toss it somewhere over his shoulder, too busy salivating over your free and ample breasts and perky nipples.

“Fuck, look at you…so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbles, kneading at your breasts. You stiffen, flushing under his heavy gaze before moving to cover yourself up, feeling a little self-conscious. Aemond shakes his head, gently tugging your hands back to your side. “No, don’t you dare cover yourself up, baby. Not in front of me.” His fingers pinch your nipple, cause your back to arch. “I’ll never understand why no one has ever devoured this pretty body. Gods, look at these tits. You’re so beautiful, baby, a fucking wet dream come true. Mmm, yeah, bet they’ll taste delicious,” and he wraps his lips around a nipple, sucking it into his mouth.

You’re delicious here, and Aemond knows you will be even more down there. His poor cock, still tucked inside his pants, feels like it is weeping, too impatient and irritated and ready to ruin you. His hand slides down your belly to rest on your hipbones and thighs, fingers ghosting around your panties.

“Ohhh…” you gasp out, biting at your bottom lips when his hand slips in.

“Fuuckk,” he drawls out against your breast, thrusting a finger into your wet cunt. “Gods, you’re so fucking wet down here. Absolutely soaking, poor baby.” Aemond strokes your slit a few times before rubbing your clit with his thumb, hearing the way you whine and shake at his actions. “I can’t wait to be inside you, fucking you till all you can think about is me.” He continues his thrusting, watching how your pretty face scrunches in sheer pleasure.

“Are you enjoying this, baby?” he asks, humming. “Do you want me down there tongue-fucking you? Hmm? Oh, wait, my sincere apologies, pretty girl, you probably don’t even know what that means.”

You moan, loud and high-pitched, teeth still chewing on your bottom lip. At your silence, he spanks your ass, causing you to lurch up with a massive gasp. “Use your fucking words, sweetheart. I don’t care for silence, especially from you.”

The more you remain quiet, he thinks, the more spanks you’ll receive.

Eventually, you fling your head back, bumping it against the door. “Okay, yes! Please! Please, Aemond…!”

Grinning, Aemond stands up and draws his lips back to your ear, saying slowly, “Spread those legs then, baby girl, right now.” When you do so, he sinks down to his knees, both hands gently clutching your thighs, “Yeah, that is a good girl. My pretty, good girl of mine.” He moves his face to the front of your pussy, “Can you feel my breath against this pretty clit? Are you waiting for me to devour this pussy? Tongue-fuck you until you’re a stupid little mess? Tell me, baby.”

He then blows against your wetness, ignoring how you jolt hard at the feel. And I’m not taking no for an answer,” he adds before slinging a leg over his shoulder.

“Oh gods, yes, please,” you whine, jerking your hips up against his face. Aemond slaps your asscheeks hard- once, twice, three, four times. “Beg, my pretty baby. C’mon, I know you can do it. Beg for my tongue, beg like you mean it, you stupid and horny little slut.” Your eyebrows furrow at his words and you whimper. “Don’t be mean to me…” you whisper, trying to blink away tears.

Aemond raises an eyebrow. “Oh, you thought that, because this is your first time, I would be nice? My sweet summer girl, you teased me enough these past several months, and I’m done playing nice. Now, tell me you want this. Tell me you want me to claim this pussy as mine.”

Your wanton cries are everything he needs in this life, he soon realizes. If he can spend the rest of his days with his face buried deep between your thighs, he swears he’ll die a happy and satisfied man. The way his name glides off your tongue is incredibly, completely wonderful, and his mind fills with various fantasies and all the positions he will soon have you in, helpless and dripping like a whore in heat.

His pretty whore, forever and always.

“Fuck, baby, who am I to deny you such?” Aemond buries his face between your trembling thighs, inhaling your mouth-watering scent one final time before slipping his tongue inside your wet folds. “You taste so fucking good, baby- shit, you’re leaking all over my face,” he moans amid long licks, fucking you both with his tongue and fingers.

“Oh, gods! Oh- oh- oh…!” You shriek, both legs buckling as your hands clench into tight fists. All of your little moans and whimpers, those pathetic pleas and begs, they all send more blood rushing to his cock. You don’t recognize the early grave you’re digging at, too overtaken by the pleasure.

“So fucking tight against my fingers. How the hell will you take my cock, baby? Fuck, I’m going to destroy you.”

You moan again, in such a loud and lustful cry that causes his resolve to only weaken faster.

“Oh! Oh, Aemond, this feels so good! Please- please, don’t ever stop,” you wail, fat tears gushing down your cheeks. This pleasure, it is a feeling like nothing before, not even coming close to those few times you made some sad and futile attempt to touch yourself, too confused on how to deal with those strange tummy butterflies that seemingly hatched from their cocoons the day you meant Aemond.

How thankful you are that you met him.

Your body squirms every couple seconds, only to wince when he spanks your ass hard again.

“Shut the fuck up,” Aemond hisses without venom. He is too much in love with you for poison. “Do you wish for your neighbors to know that I’m fucking you right now? What would they think? The pretty and sweet girl that lives here, too innocent and naïve for this damn world, letting a man eat her out like a whore.”

You shake your head again, eyes puffy and red from all the tears. “N-no, Aemond…” you stutter out.

Aemond pauses his fingers, now curious to see how far he could go with this new type of torture. But it is not long, though, before you buckle against his hand, your bruised and swollen chest pushing up with stiffened nipples. And your body, it soon tightens as your flustered face screws up in that telltale sign that you are only seconds away from cumming. The scene is beautiful, very much so, and he feels pride that it is all from his own doing.

Yet he drags himself back up on his feet, removing his fingers from your cunt before you could cum. Perhaps it is a bit too cruel on his part, but Aemond could care less; he wants you to cum on his cock for your first time.

There will be many more times of this, he wants to reassure you. He doesn’t, though.

You’ll find out on your own time.

You gaze at him through bleak and narrowed eyes as he unbuttons his pants and shoves them down to his ankles. “You poor, poor little thing,” he tuts, running a gentle hand through your damp hair, “-are you tired? You look tired, but from what? You didn’t even cum once!” He pats your cheek, “Don’t worry, my sweet girl, you’re about to. Can’t tell you how many times, but it’ll be a lot.”

And Aemond does not wait for your response, instead snatching your hand and pressing it against his boxers. “Can you feel that, baby? That is my cock. Can you feel how hard it is? You did this, you made me so fucking hard that it hurts.” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head, “Now, that is not very nice, is it? No, no, no it is not. I thought you were a sweetheart…” He shoves your hand back, ignoring the small tears that gather in your eyes again.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, wiping them away. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Aemond! Please don’t be mad at me…please, how can I help you? I’ll do anything,” you pout as you watch him slip down his boxers. Your teary eyes grow as wide as dinner plates, and your breath hitches. It is so sexy to him, eating away at the little self-control he is trying to maintain.

You’re a virgin, he reminds himself. Soft and easy, my baby deserves that.

“Shhh, baby,” Aemond rasps out, cupping your face within his hand. He kisses your nose, cheeks, and forehead before finding your lips. “I’m not mad, really, my sweet girl. I know you meant no harm, you’re too sweet and good for that,” and he holds your face against him while readying to fuck you with his cock. He can feel your short pants, the little breaths you take, and how you shudder whenever his clammy skin meets yours.

“Relax your body, baby girl, don’t tense up. It will hurt less…good girl, that’s my good girl.”

Nice and slow, he chants as he slowly sinks into your cunt, groaning at the tightness, slow and nice. You whimper, eyes rolling back as begins his thrusts, slow and easy. I’m a gentleman.

Mother made me promise to be a gentleman.

I’m a gentleman. I’m a gentleman. I’m a gentleman.

But the look you are giving him, with your lips pink and puffy from the shit ton of kisses and bites, and the way your pussy clenches around his cock…it is causing him to forget all about how his mother indeed made him promise to be nothing short but a gentleman.

You’re too pretty for him not to devour, and…well, were you not made for him? The gods created you with the purpose of him eventually finding and caring for you, the way it should’ve always been- the way it will be for now on. His one good eye (the one those stupid bastards left alone back at the academy) watches as you shake and quiver and mewl out the sweetest and yummiest little moans.

The way you are right now, you’re just begging to be made into a new mother, and his mind goes insane at the sudden image of you heavy with his children, huffy and sore and always exhausted. It is delicious to think about. Aemond- truthfully- never really thought about kids, constantly busy with the espionage lifestyle and the back-to-back missions, but you…oh, he knows that, after tonight, you’ll have no choice but to remain by his side as the baby grows, needing him to protect and provide and shower you with love and affection.

He’ll be the best husband and father, and you his good girl- his precious slice of normality.

The way it should be, the way it will be.

It is half a year later that Aemond “The One-Eyed White Death” Targaryen finally connects back with his boss through a phone call.

Before that, he dropped off the grid, returning no calls and messages and signals, leaving everyone behind at the headquarters confused, concerned, and scratching their heads as to why their finest agent suddenly vanished without a trace.

He was not dead- they knew that. He was just…gone.

“What happened, agent?” The director asks, fiddling with his pen while another agent of his attempts to get some kind of reading on him. No luck; Aemond made himself untraceable. “Are you hurt, Aemond? Did someone threaten you? You left after I assigned you that mobster and- well, we assumed the worst, son.”

Aemond chuckles, shaking his head. “No, boss, do not worry about me," he says, "I’m good. Very good, in fact, the happiest I’ve ever been in my life, one might say.”

He leans against the doorway, arms crossing over his chest as he watches you flip through a baby store catalog and marvel at all the products they have for sale- the finest baby strollers, a variety of cribs, bassinets, and swing sets, and the cutest little animal plushies and clothing.

“Frankly, boss, I just grew tired of the spy life.”

“Is that so? And pray tell what you are now, Aemond One Eye.”

He smiles, eyeing your baby bump and how you are utterly glowing. “I’m a family man.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x modern!reader #aemond targaryen x you #modern!aemond #dark aemond targaryen #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #request #vic writes 🧸

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derangedanomaly · 4 months

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So, I saw your writing and short stories. I love the way you write each character perspective of the reader so I wanted to ask. Can you do Dust, Nightmare, Error, Epic, Bill, Killer x Demon Slayer Reader (Like, in there au, they slay demons with a katana)

I'm glad you like my writing style pookie! ^^ (I'm sorry, I have no experience in writing Bill sans, so I didn't do him. Again, terribly sorry 😭😭 still hope you'll enjoy this nonetheless!)

NOT A DEMON...

(Dust, Nightmare, Error, Epic, Killer)

Nightmare:

After he found out that there's another Au, he just needed to see it..see how much havoc he can cause! Of course he immediately went there.

Though, he didn't expected this.

He was immediately jumped by a girl, holding a katana up to his throat, which... undeniably...made his knees turn into jelly... (Bro is actually into this freaky shit 😨)

He only awkwardly looked at you, a smirk evident on his face. "Hey...so... are you gonna point your pretty katana up to my throat like this forever...or you'll actually let go...?" Bitch was LYING. He didn't want you to let go. (SIR. Y'ALL JUST MET 😱)

Your glare hardened on him as you tighten your hold on your katana, not planning to move from him. (Damn..ya trynna start some shit? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

He chuckled at your unwillingness, and actually WRAPPED HIS TENTACLE around your katana. Your eyes widened, not really sure what his next move is going to be.

"What....what kind of demon are you?" You asked him, looking over his goopy body and slick tentacles. He became a little flustered from your stares, but didn't waver. "Demon? Heh... I've been called many things, awful things...but I wouldn't go as far as to call me a demon." He is a demon. 😐

You decided to interrogate him further, so you still sat, seated on his chest, a katana ready to end him anytime he would get out of line. (Which... let's be honest, really turned him on...)

You then began your special interrogation.

"What's your name?" "Nightmare. You?" ".....Y/n L/n...what about your... appearance? What's up with your tentacles?" He shoots you a flirtatious smirks. "Why? Interested..~?" You glared and pressed the katana to his neck more.. "Answer." He let out a shuddered sigh, almost as if trying to hold himself back... "I'm a skeleton. Not a demon, hun." It was finally then that he decided to free himself, using his tentacles to lift you up with ease. You questioned yourself why he didn't free himself earlier if he could very much do so without problems.

"Don't worry, Y/n. You'll see me much sooner then you can expect..."

Oh you knew. And next time he comes. You'll be prepared.

Killer:

Oh he was SO going to kill the others for this! He made a bet with the others recently, and he lost. Again. As a punishment, he had to capture someone from this brand new Au. Which Killer, didn't enjoy. He rather much liked killing them on the spot! But not kidnapping! He HATED this mission....

Killer walked through the dark hollow forest with a bored expression, looking around. As long as he kidnapped ONE person, the job's done. And that's all he wanted to get out of here.

As he passed a certain corner, he was immediately startled by a loud voice. A rather...sweet voice. He slowly turned around to be met with a... girl's eyes, looking frantically at him. In his eyes...she seemed.. nervous, holding a katana in a shakey hold.

Thinking you were quite attractive, he didn't see the harm in a little flirting. Besides...he can't come back without completing the mission...so who knows how long he'll be stuck here. (Also, it wouldn't be Killer if he didn't flirt with any being he saw as attractive. 💀)

"Well hello gorgeous~" You let out a little squeal at that and the katana in your hand almost slipping out. Which he found rather cute.

Truth be told, it was your first day as the demon slayer, you never actually encountered a demon head-on like this before. Which made you quite nervous...

Despite being very nervous, you eventually found your voice and spoke to him, trying to assert authority. "L-Listen here demon!" Which failed as you stuttered. Ugh.. "-We either fight to death! Or you leave! Right now..." Killer couldn't help but chuckle as he leaned against a tree right next to him, with you still holding your katana and standing in a battle pose.

"Fight to death? Sounds a bit gruesome to me.." he chuckled again, sending shivers down your spine. "How about we change it up to something more...poetic? I've always been the romantic type~ how about...we fight till death do us part! Yeah... that sounds better.."

Because Killer is a dumbo, he completely overlooked the part where you called him a demon. So he was surprised when you called him like that, again. "W-What are you?! Some perverted demon?!" Your cheeks flared up in red as you squealed. Killer only looked at you in confusion. "A demon?? Nah...I ain't a demon sweetheart, I'm a skeleton! But I can act like a demon if that'll get you going..." You couldn't help out the grin that was spreading on your cheeks as you turned your head a little to the side, to avoid looking at him.

Killer smirked and suddenly threw you over his shoulder, you yelped and wanted to take out your katana, only to see it in the snow not being able to reach it. Killer smirked and not so subtly peaked at your...form. ;)

"So.. where's your house eye candy? I'm gonna crash at yours tonight." You thought he'll immediately kidnap you? Nah...call it selfishness...but he just really wanted to enjoy this a little longer.

Error:

To say that Error was furious was an understatement. He was fuming.

Ink went ahead, and created another fucking Au. Great...more work for him to destroy the anomalies.

As Error went on a search about the Au, his eyes suddenly catched your folder...it was almost like it was calling out to him, shining even.. he leaned in closer, taking your folder out. Y/n. Heh...that seems like an interesting 'anomaly'...

Error went into your Au, beginning his work of destroying everything. That was until you tried to step in, he thought you'd be furious and try to put up a fight, but all you did was....gush about his strength...or his demeanor, his appearance..he was..........flustered.

He turned to you with big blush. Out.of.words. what was he even supposed to say?!

"Oh man...you have such a strong arms..." You complimented, making it harder for him to destroy your world. He was having a stupid smile on his face. It was actually really adorable! "O-Oh gEeez...." He let out a huff as he looked you up and down. (Ayo sir, you checking out? 🤨😘)

He grumbled, trying to compose himself, showing clear signs of embarrassment. "I'm the destroyer of Au's. I'm supposed to eliminate anomalies. And you're one of em." You couldn't help the mischievous grin spreading across your face. You have no idea why, but something about this guy just screamed, 'I'm not dangerous!'. You trusted your brain. So you decided to not attack him. Now that you got a good look at him, he seemed to have trouble sleeping...

"What's your name, Mr. Au destroyer?" You didn't miss the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile, but chose to not comment on it. "....Error.." you smiled warmly at Error, pointing to your house. "You look like you're not doing so well... wanna come over my place and...rest up?" His face retorted to a frown suddenly, he stood up and made you come super close face-to-face with him, glaring at you.

"I'm not dumb..... you're not doing this out of kindness...no one is..WHY are you doing this???" you felt like bursting to laughter right then and there. Is this man serious? "I'm just offering you my hospitality, Error...is there a problem with my intentions?" His face blew up almost instantly, before landing you safely onto the ground.

"Great! My offer still stays...feel free to come...~" of course he'll come. How could he resist with you taunting him so much?

Dust:

This is the hundredth time that Dust asked for Nightmare to go visit this brand new Au. Nightmare knew. He knew from the start when he heard about the Au that Dust would be interested. After all......monster species and their Exp is his forte...

After Nightmare almost blew a fuse, he finally agreed to Dust's request. "Are you....sure you want...to go alone...?" Horror asked Dust, eating a raw meat while doing so. "Yeah. Don't worry H. Killer will keep you entertained." Dust laughed when he heard Horror's next words. "Ugh... I'd rather hang...out with...a caterpillar..." Dust couldn't help but agree with his words, leaving Horror in their shared room. (I LIVE FOR HORROR AND DUST BEING BEST FRIENDS 😍)

After going through the portal, he looked at his surroundings, making mental notes. He liked to visit each and every new Au like this before him and his team destroys it...it made him feel a little alive...like he wasn't completely lost. Yes, he mostly did this so the others could have an idea of the layout in the Au, and how many people there were and what kind of species they were...but...it sorta became a hobby of his now. He felt good when he explored something new! It reminded him of Papyrus....

He shook his head and took out his book. For every Au, he had its own special book. Every book was different for each Au. He sometimes even decorated the cover... (Would NOT let anyone know...He would actually die).

This specific book for this Au is brown like cork, and has a golden lining around it. He began making small notes, looking at the scenery. It was like something BRAND NEW. He never saw an Au that was SO different from the others! And from the looks of it...it didn't occured in the underground.

As Dust sat under a tree, writing notes, he didn't noticed a figure approaching, until it was right besides him.

"What are you doing..?" He flinched. "What the FUCK!?" You both then proceeded to stare at the other, both of your faces showing concern for the other... "Uhm... I feel as though we haven't started off on the right foot.... I'm Y/n L/n! And you...? Stranger...?" He blinked a few times before responding. "Oh, I'm Dust..." You let out a giggle at the silly name, as you look at his book.. "And can I ask what you're doing? Dust?"

After awhile of pestering Dust to let you in on what he was doing, he explained what he was doing. You were pretty impressed when you heard his work. "That's so cool! Hey, maybe I can help you?" Dust only looked at you with unfazed expression. "Help me how?" You giggle, earning yourself an embarrassed Dust, avoiding your pretty eyes that he seemed to get lost in. "I'll show you how everything in here works! After all, wouldn't you want to hear the thoughts of the citizen?" Dust thought about it for some time, until he eventually gave up. "Alright.." you cheered slightly, making him chuckle quietly. Why wouldn't he take you up on the offer? After all...he wanted to talk to you for as long as possible.

Epic:

Oh how did he get into this situation? This night, he snuck into Nightmare's mansion, to hang out with Cross, only to be found and chugged into a black room locked until the morning arrives...

"Oh come on, Nightmare dude!" He whined trying to force the door open. Nightmare only grimaced. "DON'T call me dude, Epic. Ever." Epic sighed after he heard Nightmare's steps walking further away. All he could do was wait. You'd think he can teleport, but nope! This room forbids you to use any form of magic...Nightmare really thought about everything when creating a punishment..

He only sighed more, and slumped down sitting on the ground, his back facing the door. He was getting pretty bored... Nightmare even took his printed out memes and his rubber chicken! What a crime! Truly a vile man...

After almost falling asleep, Epic heard weird noises...it was like some portal? He opened his eyes to be met with, truly an opened portal. It must've opened on its own...he observed it for awhile until deciding to come in.

When he opened his eyes. Again. He was met with a literal angel. Well, at least in his eyes. There you were, fighting against a big demon ruthlessly. As if it was nothing! Epic could only stare in adoration, still sitting on the ground. "Oh I wish I could describe this with that one meme...." But I don't have my meme privileges... He thought to himself, before fully focusing on you again.

He decided that, to make a good first impression on you, he'll get up and help you with your demon problem.

And he actually did! You had no idea who this man was, but you were grateful for him! He really kicked some butt!

After beating the demon, you looked to your side and faced the man that helped you... "Hey...thanks, man." Epic got a little smug and smirked. "You're welcome. What's your name brah?" You chuckle at his vocabulary as you both exchanged names.

"Well...see you around, Epic." You smiled teasingly, putting your hand on his shoulder before leaving him a flustered mess. He's definitely gonna see you around....you think that after this experience he'll just leave? Hell no! He'll visit for sure.. ;)

#sans undertale #sans x reader #undertale #undertale fandom #nightmare sans x reader #dust sans x reader #error sans x reader #killer sans x reader #epic sans x reader

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moodymisty · 2 days

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So I'm suffering from life threatening levels of Perturabo brainrot and got a lil scenario idea stuck in my head while I was taking a shower: One of the serfs that does mundane housekeeping tasks throws all self-preservation aside when a curious little contraption Perty made catches her attention while she's tidying his quarters. It's a harmless trinket he made in his spare time, a clever little puzzle box, and she can't resist the urge to get a closer look.. Cue Perturabo catching her touching things she shouldn't be touching. He feels a flash of anger, but its quickly doused by the look of genuine wonder and awe at something he made simply as a mundane time-waster between campaigns. When she notices him in the doorway staring(glaring) at her, it's like being doused in ice water and she hurriedly sets the trinket down and apologizes profusely as she scurries away. Over the next few weeks, Serf quietly fears for her life due to her impropriety.. While Perty decides he wants to see that look again and sets about making a little courting gift - a music box that plays a lullaby/tune that is popular on Olympia.

Sorry if this is way too specific, you can change whatever you'd like about it to fit your tastes!

PS: I love your writing style so, so, much. Thank you for all you've created and shared with us 💕

Author's note: I like the idea! I changed it a teeeny tiny bit, but only because I didn't want it to run on into a massive block of text. Enjoy, here's some Perty meetcute.

Relationships: Perturabo/Fem!reader

Warnings: Not really any other than Perturabo's attitude

Returning to his private workshop Perturabo can tell by the door being slightly ajar that someone is inside cleaning it, and opens it fully to let himself in. Out of his armor he's wrapped up in clothing more suitable for the cool evening, walking underneath the dimmed lights.

He's always hated bright rooms; The few windows in this room provide enough sunlight during the day to work, and at night to keep it bright enough to work but dim enough to avoid a headache.

Not long after entering he notices your form in the corner, picking something up off the floor. He pays no mind and walks past, completely ignoring your presence other than that momentary glance. He's seen you before; You're usually the one cleaning the innermost parts of his chambers like this workshop. Perhaps you're the only one brave enough, and the only one that hasn't gotten thrown out for being in his way.

Sitting down the chair creaks in complaint but he ignores it, leaning forward over his desk. For awhile he simply glosses over his designs, old and new blueprints with a lack of interest, before his eyes wander away from it all. They're all just improvements for already existing war machines, nothing that keeps his attention for long.

He sees you now working on cleaning an area close to where some of his smaller projects are sitting, collecting dust, but he can tell as you clean one in particular has caught your eye.

It's the old puzzle box he had made when he was far younger; It's simplicity makes him scoff now in shame of his less experienced hands so long ago. Though even then, it far exceeded what anyone on Olympia could dream of making. Perhaps that's why it caught your eye, a stand out among little automatas, music boxes and miniatures.

He sees you looking at it, curiously gazing over the pieces that interlock together. It seems like you're trying to figure it out in your head rather than picking it up and risk his anger. You don't notice his gaze on you, his brow still furrowed but not in anger- deep set eyes hooded in lazy curiosity.

Once you either give up trying to figure it out or realize you need to return to your work you turn away from the box, but your sleeve accidentally catches on the sharp edge of the metal. It shifts and falls off the table, thinking that you're moving it as if attempting to solve it. You uncharacteristically swear, and snatch the box out of the air before it hits the ground.

You look at Perturabo momentarily and see him watching you, and he can see you swallow the knot in your throat. Your back straightens as you look away and towards the puzzle box in your hands, fingers brushing over it as you make sure it's unharmed.

With a grunt of effort Perturabo gets up out of his chair, and he sees you noticeably freeze up at the fear of his approach.

"You're supposed to turn it."

You look up at him surprised for a moment, before looking down at the box again. It's large in your hands, he'd scaled it for his own, but you're still able to fiddle with the mechanisms with little issue. He watches your eyebrows raise as you gain understanding.

"Oh, I see."

He hears the soft clink of one of the mechanisms inside unlocking- he knows there's four left. Your eyes are locked on it trying to figure out the system, and he can see you're making progress, faster than he might've expected you to. He doesn't stop you because of it; He's curious how far you can get.

You stop about halfway to figuring out the next part, and slowly go to place it back onto the shelf where it had been collecting dust.

"I think this would take me quite awhile to s-" Perturabo jerks his chin slightly towards you.

"Keep it."

You look at him wide eyed, and pull back from the shelf to continue holding it in your hands.

"It stopped amusing me long ago."

You thanked him for it, with a soft and sweet smile that made his nose wrinkle, and you got little more than a grunt in response before you finished your duties and left him in silence.

You returned the finished box to him three days later, opened. Perturabo, amused by it, had plucked another puzzle box he'd made in one of his moments of particularly sour moue off a high shelf, and handed that one to you. You'd returned it six days later, solved.

You had detoured from your assigned tasks to return it to him, and left shortly there after. Your hands had barely closed the door behind him before he pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and started to draft a new one, the first he'd be making in many years, something finally keeping his mind busy as he glossed over his old and forgotten creation to make this new one.

He had noticed your tiny fingerprints on the metal one time he'd looked up, pen stopping for a moment as he stared at them before returning to his work.

He's not here today, you notice.

The workshop is empty, though you aren't entirely surprised. The Iron Blood left port this last week, and you assume Perturabo went along with it.

What is surprising is that quite quickly you notice that there's something set out on his desk, in clear view. There's parchment being weighed down by it and you can't help but take a look, having to near climb from how high the tabletop is.

It's yet another puzzle box, you quickly realize. You pull the parchment with it and read the few words at the center of it.

This one should keep you entertained for awhile.

That's all it says, sitting the parchment back down and turning your full attention to the box instead.

It's significantly more ornate than any of the previous ones he'd given you, and still smells of oils and greases presumably from it's recent creation. The puzzle itself seems far more in-depth than the previous ones as well, and you can't help but smile at the realization that he's trying to stump you on purpose. Your fingertips brush over the etchings of symbols and the decorative grooves; He clearly spent a lot of time on this one.

You hold it close before sitting it down, and get to work cleaning. You keep a consistent schedule in this room so there isn't much to be done, and once you finish you're able to take the puzzle box back to your personal quarters and begin figuring it out.

Perturabo seemed to spare no expense in figuring out how to make this one more difficult, having to do puzzles to figure out parts of another puzzle. It takes you well over three weeks to figure out, slowly working at it between your work.

Once you crack it open, you're so excited you barely even realize there's something inside, pulling out the folded parchment. When you unfold it, you notice something that falls into your lap. A necklace.

You weren't exactly allowed to wear jewelry, it got in the way, but you suppose if it came from Lord Perturabo, none of your superiors could complain.

Putting the necklace around your neck you read the words on the parchment, pursing your lips. Your cheeks feel slightly warmer as well, realizing that you're holding something the primarch crafted specifically for you, and now you have not one, but two handwritten letters from him.

Perhaps they're quite short letters, but you count them anyways. Lord Perturabo has never been the wordy sort.

Meet me in my workshop the day the Iron Blood returns to port.

You wonder if Perturabo has always been this roundabout and obtuse. Or if he's for some reason toying with your odd knack for puzzles. You suppose he's bored, he seems to have plans for abandoned ideas all around his workshop. Bathhouses and ornate buildings, unfinished and pushed aside for efficient weapons of war.

You're glad you managed to open it before the Iron Blood returned, but just barely; Two days later is when it- he, returns, and you meet him in his workshop.

He turns to you, wearing lighter clothing given the warm weather. The sun is just starting to set however, the sky turning orange and purple. You notice he's grown a slight bit of stubble on his jawline since returning, and that his expression is surprisingly relaxed.

"How long did it take you?"

He says with not even a hello. Though you suppose you don't really need one.

"I finished it two nights ago. Just barely made it, it seems." He chuckles, much to your surprise. It's a deep rumble you can feel in your chest, and makes you swallow at the feeling of your heartbeat up in your collarbone.

"It seems they'll need to be even more complicated in order to slow you."

You notice his eyes look away from your face and down to your collarbone. The necklace is what caught his eye, you can only guess. you've been wearing it nonstop since you got it. His hand reaches down to grasp the pendant that hangs from it between his two fingers, before he lets it go moments later.

You wonder if perhaps it meant something a bit deeper than what you'd thought at first glance. He wouldn't just give out such ornately made things for no reason. Your face grows a bit warm at the sudden realization that you'd completely overlooked the implication of a man, a primarch, giving such a gift to a woman, but Perturabo either doesn't notice, or doesn't care.

"Sit with me. And tell me your name."

There's a chair beside his own that is similar in size to his own, though vastly oversized for you. You sit down in it and pull your legs up onto the chair and curl them to your side. Then you put your hands on your lap and look towards him and start talking, beginning into a conversation that leads well into the night.

#perturabo x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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ofallthingsnasty · 3 months

Note

Pretty please could you do F, H, N, or Y for crocodile one day! I’m curious on your thoughts about him and I love when you talk about him 😭 my new obsession is the pug who he hates but tolerates just for you, so sweet 🥺

Yandere Alphabet letters a, i and q for crocodile hdsjahj anon I'm glad you like my rambles because they are so much fun to write 💕💕 regarding the little dog - don't be fooled, it's 50% him wanting to see you happy and 50% having even more leverage over you 🤭 mean man...

tw.yandere, violence, minors dni

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Uh oh, you might want to reconsider doing that. You call it fighting back, he calls it being an ungrateful, whiny little brat and it pisses him off. There are few things that make his blood boil when it comes to you, and being defiant and insulting him is one of them. Does he know that you’re here against your will? Sure. Does he care? No. You see, he views himself as some sort of provider - he’s giving you a life a million times better than your old one. You’re cared for, well-fed, nicely dressed, don’t have to work - really, your only job is to play house when he’s around (which he isn’t all that often, busy as he is). He doesn't even expect you to fuck him for it, he just wants someone to come home to, who will let him rest his head on their lap and caress it. (Of course, he oh-so-graciously ignores the gigantic power imbalance between the two of you when it suits him, especially when it comes to the bedroom. But generally speaking, I think he can be rather mellow compared to others, can even be reasoned with to a certain extent. Just be good for him.)

He thinks he’s being more than generous, more than fair - for the position you're in. A lesser pirate would have killed you by now, he tells you, would have gotten a new toy already. No, no - he is here to stay, he wants to see you thrive, even.And if you throw it all in his face, spit at him, dare to fight him - oh, what he’ll feel will be beyond good and evil. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, darling.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Okay, good news first: When it comes to Crocodile, I’d argue that the worst experience is really limited to just one. I’ve talked about him physically lashing out at you in a moment of rage and in the weeks that have passed that thought kind of stuck with me. At his core, this man doesn't want to hurt you (deeply). Manipulating you with visual threats and possibilities is one thing, but genuinely injuring you to make you bend to his will? Not really his style. Yes, he does corporal punishments - but only because they’re so effective and can be done so quickly. (A classic action - réaction, if you will.) So, what exactly is that nebulous worst experience? It’s him either using his Devil Fruit powers or his hook on you. To even get to that point, he’d have to be beyond angry with you. It’s probably something that happens early on while you’re not yet acquainted with your new role and you dare to insult him, try to escape - maybe you spiral, his temper simply cooks over and- Trust me, he’ll never do it again. It’ll leave permanent physical damage. But it’ll also traumatize you into submission, which is the only good thing to come out of this, at least to him. You’ll both regret it. And you’ll both learn from it.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Spankings. Lots of them. It’s quick, efficient, shows you who is in charge, makes you sit a little straighter, makes you sweeter - he isn’t beyond mind games in general but when it comes to punishments, a quick correction is just more convenient. Manipulation and the likes are the long con, the work he puts in to undermine your self-esteem, to make you doubt your own feelings for your captor. But the spankings are the here and now, the thing that keeps the cat from sharpening its claws on the sofa.

You’ll learn to associate that telltale-look of tired disappointment with a sigh and over my knee, darling. He’ll ask what you’ve done wrong, will make you count, will leave you feeling so small, like an unruly child and not a fully grown adult - it’s a great way to keep you edge, to never let you forget who is in charge here, no matter how much time passes and in how many gifts he showers you.

And if it’s really dire - you get the belt.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

I always waver on this one. We know from the story that he isn’t afraid of planning, slowly building, waiting - Operation Utopia was a goddamn mammoth and he has the patience to wait on you for years and years to make it perfect - but. Doesn’t he deserve something soft? Someone to come home to? And what good is all that plotting and lying in wait and watching if he could have had you by that point already?He definitely won’t go ‘alright, that one’s spouse-shaped, put them in the bag’ when he sees you for the first time but he won’t wait too long for you either. Just long enough to gain sufficient intel, to get to know you a little better, to make your disappearance as smooth and seamless as possible. I’m not trying to sound harsh, but not only does he not want to wait too long - there are also other, more important things to do? He can’t spend months upon months learning about you inch by inch, he has an Ancient Weapon to seize and a country to overthrow. You can’t be mad at him when he pulls the plug at a certain moment and simply takes what he wants. It’s really only logical.

#omg that was waaaaay too much fun. thank you for indulging me!! kiss for you... 💕#tw.yandere #/crocodile #/one piece #yandere one piece #crocodile x reader

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sturnmad · 5 months

Text

nick sturniolo x ftm!reader

um i wrote this for @hbpr1nce . it was meant to be a short little fluffy drabble but spiraled into a 2.6k+ friends-to-lovers monstrosity. idk

be aware my writing style is very different than most sturniolo x reader authors on this app. i use second person & generally avoid the use of y/n (I'd rather use an oc name if absolutely necessary). it's also really like... plot-y? reader-centric? i didn't even mean for that to happen. honestly this feels like a prequel, i might write a sequel.

also i forgor the exact timeline of Nick's coming out so i just winged it lmao

summary: you're nick sturniolo's childhood friend, basically follows you realizing you're a trans man w nick supporting you the whole time, + ur eventual getting together. angst+fluff, no smut.

warnings: romantic nick x ftm!reader, transphobia, body image/self-esteem issues, I'm posting w minimal editing so beware, uhhh thats it i think?

Nick's always been your biggest supporter.

He's one of your first friends, because in 3rd grade he's the only one who stands up to the teacher when she tries to send you to the office for something you didn't do. You remember it distinctly: Nick literally red in the face from all the yelling, Matt trying to calm him down.

Nick doesn't remember it at all, but you do, and you've been his friend ever since.

He's the first to understand you, back when you thought you just hated everything about yourself. You hated your hair, so you cut it off. You hated your body, so you covered it up.

You hated your name, too, but there was no real solution to that.

It’s just so flowery, you'd complain with a wrinkled nose. So common. It didn't fit your face. Maybe that was why you avoided mirrors (it wasn't, but you didn't know that at the time either).

On what must be the thousandth time you complain of it, Nick rolls his eyes and says, “Just change it.”

“What?”

He waves a hand. “Just go by a nickname or something. Change it legally when you're older, if you want.”

Huh. For some reason that never occurred to you.

You cycle through a few nicknames, mostly just shortenings of your first and middle names, but none of those feel right either. Again, it's Nick that solves the issue, suggesting a few names until he lands on one that just… fits.

When you ask your other friends to call you by it, one of them asks, “Isn't that a boy’s name?”

He doesn't say it rudely or anything. You freeze anyway, because again, you didn't think about that, and again, Nick comes to your rescue. “It's gender neutral, dumbass,” he says good-naturedly. Your friend laughs and the moment passes by.

(You don’t notice, but Nick watches you closely from the corner of his eye. He looks like a theory was just confirmed.)

A few months after you change your name, you hear some kids talking in the hall about a trans student, saying—well. Nothing good.

Your hands go numb. Your stomach churns violently, and for the life of you, you can't figure out why. Obviously it’s shitty of them to say that, but high school is awful and you've overheard worse without freaking out over it.

You dismiss it as a freak coincidence.

Your anxiety gets worse, and quarantine doesn't help. Your parents are especially paranoid about the virus, so you barely leave your house.

There are up-sides, though. You talk with Nick almost every day now. Apparently his entire house burned down, so he's stuck in a tiny apartment with his parents and three brothers. He's fairing well, though, and he's one of your only friends who keeps in touch with you.

When he calls, he always uses the name you chose for yourself (or did he choose it?). These days, he’s the only one who does.

Nick comes out to you on a warm August afternoon.

“Holy shit,” you say. “I mean, that's great, man.” You wince. ‘Great’ doesn't seem like the right word to use there, but what else are you supposed to say? “Does anyone else know?”

“Yeah.” You hear a sigh of relief, and your heart clenches at the thought that Nick would hold even a sliver of fear of your reaction. “Nate, Max—a few others… Matt and Chris don't know, yet.”

Your jaw drops. “What? You haven't told them?” Nick and his triplet brothers told each other almost everything. You figured they'd be first on the list.

You remembered, vaguely, a conversation where you asked Nick if he had any secrets from Matt and Chris. He'd hesitated before shaking his head.

Huh, you thought. ‘No secrets’, my ass.

“Yeah,” Nick said like he’d had this conversation before. “I don't know why. I know they'd be fine with it, obviously, but it's just… a lot of work, y’know? They might be weird about it. No, they definitely will be. That's almost worse.”

You frowned. Granted, you weren't as close with Matt and Chris as you were with Nick, but they'd never struck you as homophobic. And they'd always been close with Nick, closer than most siblings. You couldn't imagine them reacting negatively.

Still, you understood Nick’s nervousness. That was big news to drop. One way or another, everything would change.

“They might be a little weird about it,” you admitted. “But they'll get over it. Probably. Either way, you've gotta do it eventually so may as well get it over with, right?”

“Yeah.” The word was tinged with frustration. “I know. I'll do it soon. Probably.”

It's not a surprise when, on their next call, he announces he's done it. You congratulate him, and the two of you talk about life in general, though there aren't many updates. Your mind is elsewhere, and you think Nick senses it because you say your goodbyes a few minutes later.

In your mind, you turn it over and over again in your head. Nick is gay and he came out and everything is fine. Everyone is cool with it. And even though at this point you haven’t admitted anything to yourself—

Something inside you untenses.

***

When you see Nick in person for the first time in over a year, you almost double over in envy.

It comes from nowhere. It completely blindsides you. He steps into the cafeteria with Matt and Chris by his side and you're suddenly so jealous you could puke.

He just looks really good, actually smiling and happy and tall. That's the only reason you're jealous, you decide, as Chris nearly shoves Nick into a table. Nick had a glow-up but quarantine only made you uglier, inside and out. Of course you'd be jealous.

To your surprise, Nick singles you out first out of all his friends. “Hey.” He smiles. It's a gentle smile, and he looks so happy and good and—did you mention he’s tall? At least taller than you, though that's not saying much. You're short enough that you almost never get mistaken for a boy, and when you do, it’s usually because of your short hair.

But you and Nick have the same hair length.

Huh. Same hair, similar style (yours perhaps even more ‘masculine’ than his), but no one ever mistakes you for a man after they see your face or hear your voice. Your stomach twists in envy again at the thought, this time with a distinct undercurrent of self-loathing.

If I looked like you…

(I probably wouldn't hate myself so much.)

It's just because Nick looks so good, though.

***

It's a snowball effect after that.

It's like Nick coming out put the concept on transness on your radar. You find yourself reading articles about it late at night. Just out of curiosity, you tell yourself.

But being trans would explain a lot about you. Almost everything, really.

One night you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror. That's something you don't usually do. You don't like your body. You don't like your face. And for the first time, you're thinking:

Why? What don't I like about it?

The fat on your stomach. The fat around your waist. Your mom always says you have “child-bearing” hips, a comment that never fails to disgust you.

Your chest. You hate when people comment on it or acknowledged its existence at all. Bra shopping is a nightmare and necessary evil. Do most women feel like that?

Maybe. You doubt it.

You go by a man's name.

You wear men's clothes.

You look like a man…almost. From certain angles.

You want to look like a man.

That’s true. You do.

In here, at least, you can finally admit something. Only to yourself, and only for now, and only partially.

But you're maybe, kind of, at least 80% sure you're trans.

Fuck, you think. I'm screwed.

***

You come out to Nick in a McDonald's parking lot. It's oddly fitting.

Usually, you wouldn't do it all in one go. You'd test the waters first. Mention trans people in passing and see how the other person reacts. Maybe say a few things like ‘sometimes I just wish I was a guy, y'know?’

With most of your other friends, you could get away with that. They may be confused, they may side-eye you, but they wouldn't understand and they wouldn't confront you about it.

Nick isn't like that. He'd know, even if he didn't say anything. Better to just rip the bandaid off.

You wait until the others leave the car to pick up their orders. You and Nick stay behind like you always do.

You suck in a breath. Talking to Nick has always been easy. He's loud, you're loud—you accommodate, build off of each other. The silence feels unnatural in comparison to your usual easy banter.

“I think, um—” Your voice cracks and you cough. A strong start. You had a script but you're forgetting it. “I think I'm… probably not a woman.”

That's it. That's the closest you've gotten—that's all you know. ‘Probably not a woman’. Probably a man, but hey, there were other possibilities, and you just figured this out a few weeks ago so give yourself a break.

Nick is silent a second too long. You start to panic. “Like, I think I'm trans.” Your voice goes up at the end like it's a question.

It's not. You're certain. You made sure you were certain long before you came out.

“Thank you for telling me,” Nick says awkwardly. You nearly laugh; his floundering is oddly soothing. “Do the others—”

“No.” You shake your head. “No one else knows.”

“Oh, wow. Um… how long have you known?”

You think for a moment. “I guess I always have, even if I didn't have the words for it. But I didn't know for sure until a few weeks ago.”

“So… do you have a name picked out?”

You stare at him, confused. You can see the others exiting McDonald’s in the background. “What?”

“I mean,” Nick backpedals, puts up his hands like he's offended you, “Most trans people change their name, and no offense, but you don't don't really have a guy’s name, so I was just wondering—”

“I do, though,” you say. “The nickname you gave me.”

Nick says nothing, just sort of stares at you, and for some reason your face grows hot.

(He really does look good, you think, and wow this is such an inappropriate time to be having that thought.)

Then the others bang on the windows and demand to be let in, and the moment is ruined.

***

It gets worse before it gets better.

You decide not to come out to your parents until you absolutely have to. You do, however, come out to the rest of the friend group, and they're mostly accepting.

But it's not like you press a button and become a man overnight. Word gets around, and though no one says anything to your face, you hear them laugh behind your back. Some of your teachers who had been fine calling you by your nickname beforehand refuse to use it anymore.

You don't let it get to you. You give as good as you get. Still, as always, Nick is your biggest supporter. You don't know what you'd do without him.

***

You stay friends, but you fall out of touch.

It happens. You still text on birthdays, still congratulate him on his channel, still send each other memes on Instagram, but one day you blink and realize you haven't actually seen him in almost a year.

You've been busy. You have your own life, your own friends, but Nick is your best and oldest one. Always has been, and you're hoping always will be. So of course you text “hey, next time you're in Boston we should hang out or smth” and of course he agrees.

You suggest McDonald's, just for old time's sake, but Nick insists you go to an actual restaurant. He picks a more expensive one, and as you're trying to work out a polite way to say “thanks, but I'm way too poor for that”, he texts:

NICK: my treat btw

YOU: nah man you don't have to

YOU: but we might have to go somewhere cheaper sorry

NICK: it’s fine. i'll pay. i probs owe u hundreds from hs still lmao

YOU: true true

YOU: if you're sure

Nick never answers, which you assume means ‘yes’.

You show up almost half an hour early. You brought your wallet and you're prepared to put up a valiant fight for your fair share of the bill, bank account be damned.

You’re also anxious like you havent been since high school, probably. You don't know why. Nick's your friend, after all, even if you've drifted apart a bit. There's nothing to be anxious about.

Nick shows up ten minutes early.

Huh, you think, and then stop thinking.

At least you weren't completely blindsided this time. You knew what Nick looked like from his channel and his Insta, but he’s… different in person.

He’s even better. You don't think you're ugly (not anymore, at least), but you're no supermodel. Nick is, or he could be, definitely.

He hugs you, and when he leans back he looks you up and down and frowns. “You grew.”

You shrug. “Side effect of testosterone.”

“That makes you grow?”

“It can if you start it before twenty.” Your face grows hot. Here Nick is, some airbrushed God, and you're going through second puberty. You have acne. You have the little shitty mustache you used to mock boys for.

You have gained a few inches, though. Now you're about level with Nick’s chin instead of his chest. Makes hugs a bit more awkward.

Nick is still frowning at you. “Are these a side effect, too?” He squeezes your bicep before stepping back.

Your face burns even hotter. “Sort of. I work out.” You flex on instinct, and you swear Nick’s eyes follow the movement with just a little too much heat.

You must be hallucinating.

You expect the dinner to be awkward. And it is, at first, until Nick clears his throat and says, “I have a confession to make.”

You eye him warily. He seems serious. “What is it?”

Nick fidgets, avoiding your eyes. “You know the name I gave you?”

“Yeah?”

“The one that's now your legal name?”

“What about it?”

Nick covers his mouth with his hand. His shoulders shake with silent laughter. “It—” He wheezes. “It was my cousin’s pet turtle’s name!”

You gape.

And just like that, it's like nothing ever changed.

You burst into laughter. “I can't believe it,” you hiss. “And you never told me?”

“I was just listing off names I knew,” he says apologetically. “It could've been worse. You could've been named after my cousin.”

“Oh my god.” You cover your face with your hands. “Is that why Matt and Chris looked at me so weird when I told them?”

Nick starts laughing again. “Yeah. I'm sorry, man.”

You uncover your face and sigh, shaking your head. “Where are they, anyways?” You ask. “I thought they'd come with you.” Though now that you thought about it, Nick never said ‘we’ in his texts, only ‘I’. Huh.

“They wanted to say hi,” Nick says apologetically. “I made them stay home.”

“Why?”

To your surprise, Nick goes red.

It all clicks into place. The fancy restaurant. Nick’s insistence on paying. The fucking bicep squeeze.

You smile and lean forward. “Nick Sturniolo,” you say. “Is this a date?”

Nick, to his credit, recovers quickly. “If you want it to be,” he says softly. He actually meets your eyes and everything.

You meet his, too.

“I do.”

#nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo x male!reader #nick sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo x ftm!reader

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