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ceilidho · 3 months

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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 1; ghoap x reader)

Johnny’s been bragging about a pretty bird lately.

Ghost listens because the periods between missions are long and colourless—he fills the time with paperwork, PT, exhausting his muscles in the gym, and dissociating in a booth at the only good pub on base when Johnny drags him along—and it’s better to tune out the thoughts in his head and replace them with something else. Besides, for as much as he gripes about poorly trained dogs barking too much, he enjoys the sound of Johnny’s voice. It quiets the faint ringing that follows him wherever he goes, an agitated humming that leaves him, on his best days, on the brink of rage.

“Tinnitus,” a doctor says when he brings it up during a routine check-up. Can you shut that fucking noise up?

“Best we can do is get you hearing aids.” Apologetic, sincere even. Stained, as always though, by a trembling, noxious unease. It emanates off the doctor in waves.

Hard not to feel uneasy around a man in a mask, Ghost assumes. That’s all part of it though. He doesn’t cultivate comfort, doesn’t attempt to engender soft feelings or put the mind at ease. His body and persona are designed to put the body and mind on the knife’s edge of fear, and then tip it over. He leaves the sweet talking and charming to men like Johnny, who babbles red language in a tongue like larkspur.

Ghost’s first language is oil slick. It stains and it covers and it darkens everything it touches.

And now, Johnny’s talking about a bird.

A couple months after Las Almas, the first picture comes out. Not a folded up keepsake tucked away in the pocket of a bag or a wallet or the inside of his jacket, but right on Johnny’s lockscreen on his phone. He disapproves at first glance. Not of the girl, but at the thought of keeping something so valuable on display for anyone to see. It’s not how he functions. Everything sacred is burned, destroyed, or—if precious enough—buried so deep underground that salt miners might greet it on the way down.

“Pretty, eh?” Johnny goads, nudging Ghost with his shoulder. He’s all wide grin, eyes electric-blue like the flames of Kawah Ijen.

She is pretty. Pretty as pie. Not a speck of grit or blood on her; if there’s any edge to her at all, it’s tempered by her smile in the photo on Johnny’s phone. A sugar sweet cunt, by the looks of it, sure it’d taste like candy if he got his mouth on it. He angles his eyes with Johnny’s lips and wonders how many times he’s eaten her out, if hers was the last cunt he ate. Likely. His boy’s the loyal kind, hard to shake off once he’s got his teeth in. Swapping spit or blood, he doesn’t leave once he’s got a taste.

“Where’d you find her?” he asks instead of agreeing, and takes a swig from the bottle in front of him. The bar’s hardly filled out yet; the two of them come early because Ghost’s an old man—that’s what Johnny would say—and doesn’t like to be around people once the sun’s set. It’s a burnished gold now, sun hovering low in the sky when Ghost turns an eye to it.

“Florist. Met her when I picked up flowers for mam’s birthday.”

Nearly a month then. “And I’m just hearin’ about this now?”

Not in this same pub three times a week since then. Not on the tarmac, suited up and sweating already beneath two layers of gear. Not in the shower beside Ghost’s, fingers reaching over the side for a bar of soap because Johnny can’t be arsed to get his own. Not with his head slumped to let Ghost shave the sides of his head nice and neat, thick fingers splayed over the delicate bone of his skull that Ghost knows would take nothing to break.

It rankles him until he looks back down at the phone in his hands—the one he’d plucked from Johnny’s fingers even while he whined about Ghost always stealing his shit—and feels his heartbeat slow. It levels out like staring into the scope of a rifle, the molecules of his breath melding with the molecules of the air until even the sound of his heartbeat dulls to the insects around him.

Johnny purses his lips. “…Wasn’t sure then. Am now.”

“Cunt’s a cunt. What’s there to be sure about?”

“No.” Johnny shakes his head vehemently. “She’s no’ like that. She’s special—I’m telling ye, Lt—” he stresses when Ghost snorts, the sound thick with scepticism, “—she’s a good egg. Smart one. Sweet as pie.”

Sweet as pie. Mutt half-shares his thoughts these days. They must have brought more home than just shellshock and keloids.

Johnny squawks when Ghost unlocks his phone and thumbs through his photos, trying to wrench it out of Ghost’s hand to no avail. He’s easy to hold back. All he has to do is put down his beer for a second and get a handful of hair and jerk, and there it is. Peace and quiet. A wince bleeding into his peripheral vision while Johnny mumbles something under his breath about him being a mean bastard.

He snorts again. Even from Johnny, he’s heard worse.

There isn’t much left of him these days. A tired husk and a taste for Guinness. He bleeds and shaves and wipes it off, smells the viscera still staining his mask that he hardly ever washes, can’t bear to honestly. Waste of fucking time, as far as he’s concerned. Just going to get dirtied again, soaked in blood again within the week. Shaves his head too just to have less to deal with, less to distract him from the single-minded intensity he brings to the job. He’d dematerialize if he could, become a ghost in name and shape, if only the laws of physics allowed.

Instead he’s saddled with a body that echoes back his age in creaking joints and low back pain. Scar tissue that aches when it gets cold.

In the months he’s known Johnny, he’s never let himself think about the world outside their bubble. His rank demands a certain level of socialising, and while he doesn’t schmooze with the brass like other lieutenants might, Ghost hardly has the privilege of isolating himself all the time, but still he can count the people he considers close on one hand.

Not family, but close. The thought of family is sheathed within him; he knows to leave the knife in lest he bleed. Still, Johnny’s fought his way onto the list and now he has to pay with his pound of flesh.

There’s a switch that’s been off for years, closer to a couple decades, and it flips back on when he finds this man that trusts him without question, that follows his orders and looks up at him with these big, puppy blue eyes. It twists something in his chest. It turns him into a thing that says maybe it’s better to take than just covet.

There are other photos of the girl in Johnny’s phone, some likely not meant for present company (Johnny flushes red when Ghost flips to a picture of his bird in a pretty little number, lace cupping her tits and ass, sitting on Johnny’s bed back home and looking back at him over her shoulder with a little grin). Still, it interests him to see this side of his boy; he’s maybe thought of it before in abstract terms. He knows that Johnny’s no stranger to a wandering eye, not with the way he’s built and his pretty boy face. He’s well acquainted with Johnny’s dick, hard not to be in such close quarters; it’s a nice, pretty thing, just like him, a good handful. Nothing like the ruddy battering ram in between Ghost’s legs. The one Johnny once got a glimpse of in the showers after a two week long stint in Kyrgyzstan and paled, mouth gaping open while he stared until he could finally laugh it off.

Ghost remembers thinking detachedly about how lovely that little gaped open mouth would feel around his cock.

Surprising that it took this long for him to cotton on to his own desires.

“Bring ‘er around then. I’ll see for myself how sweet she is.”

Johnny scowls at the sudden uproar from a nearby table. “No’ a chance in hell. Dinnae trust any of these fuckers to behave around her.”

Ghost hums. He’s not wrong to be wary; under the table, Ghost runs a hand over his bulge and gives it a squeeze, lifting his thigh to readjust. She has a lovely mouth too.

He’s been breathing fire and brimstone recently. Hungering to hear something break. It takes Johnny’s hand on his arm to hold him back, every cigarette puffed down to the filter. The pictures on Johnny’s phone make it seem easy though.

Johnny’s been bragging about a pretty bird lately, preening at every opportunity to show her off. He doesn’t know that it takes approximately eight seconds for Ghost’s brain to file the girl in Johnny’s phone under mine, slotting her right under Johnny in that category and isn’t that just perfect because it also takes approximately eight seconds for Ghost to imagine what she might look like under Johnny.

He hands Johnny back the phone, face down. “You get one week. Then I wanna meet your bird.”

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost/soap/reader #ghoap x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #ghoap x you

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ribb6ns · 9 months

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delicate

pairing: taylor swift x fem!reader

word count: 1191

warnings: angst (kind of?), comfort

summary: you knew what you were in for when you started dating the world-renowned pop-star, but you'd underestimated the feeling of inferiority that would come with it.

No matter how hard you'd tried to, you couldn't ignore the uneasy feeling that had settled in your stomach over the past few weeks.

You had always prided yourself for your laid-back nature, but as of lately, you'd been feeling neglected. The millions of people thirsting over your girlfriend wasn't doing you any favors either.

You'd known what to expect, dating a world-renowned popstar. You'd known what being in a relationship with her came with. Rest assured, she'd always made clear that she was no better than you in any way, but that was hard to believe when she was earning millions a night whilst you were rotting away in your bedroom, watching another rerun of Gilmore Girls.

You knew you shouldn't be. You should've been happier by now. Healthier. When you'd first started dating Taylor, you felt at the top of the world. But even then, the slight feeling of inferiority crept in. You'd never say anything about it. How could you? And even if you did, what could she do about it? You knew she wasn't about the end her entire career for you, and you didn't expect her to. There was no balance in your relationship, no matter how hard you tried. You'd always the the inferior one, the weaker one, the mundane one.

Which was exactly why you hadn't made your relationship with her public. The backlash would've been ruthless, and you couldn't put Taylor through that. You'd been the one to make that decision, but the way she'd agreed to it just a little too excitedly still lingered in the back of your mind.

No.

You weren't doing this again.

With a reluctant groan, you slipped out of your bedsheets and drew open the blinds. You were immediately met with the sun's unwelcoming gaze.

You stumbled back, just managing to catch yourself on the corner of your bedside table. The sharp corner jabbed into your skin, pain shooting up your bone.

A small wince escaped your throat as you instinctively jumped away. You could feel the blood pooling around your wound, but you couldn't bother to clean it up. It's not like there was anyone around to impress, anyways.

You could practically hear Taylor gently admonishing you inside your head. Handling you like you were going to break at any second.

You cringed at the thought, pushing it to the back of your mind. Instead, you directed your attention to Meredith.

"What shall we do today, hm?" you asked, sliding open your closet door. "Go to the mall? Go on a run?"

You swiveled around, only to be met with an unamused set of blue eyes.

"Come on, Mere," you groaned. "You're really not helping here at all."

Instead of acknowledging you, she chose to march off instead, leaving you to decide on today's activities by yourself.

A ping! noise vibrated off your phone, distracting you from the incredibly difficult task of choosing an outfit to wear today. Your eyes lit up at the sight of the name on your screen.

Taylor: Hey babe, I'll probably be here in around ten minutes. Can't wait to see you!

Your brows furrowed, confusion overtaking your features. It was only until you spotted the date on your lockscreen that you finally remembered.

"Shit," you groaned.

You'd forgotten that your girlfriend was coming back home today.

After what seemed like hours of mindless panicking, you'd finally managed to calm down. You'd gotten the blood off the nightstand, and had managed to tidy up the bedroom. All you had to do now was wait.

You'd changed into a floral sundress and had done your skincare for what was probably the first time in months. You'd quickly whipped up a batch of cookies, which were baking in the oven. For someone who was spiraling just an hour ago, you cleaned up pretty nice. You were just hoping that your girlfriend would fall for the illusion.

Just as it seemed like she was never coming, the door creaked open. Your eyes widening in excitement, you ran towards the entrance, a smile plastered on your face.

"Taylor!" you yelled, embracing your girlfriend in a tight hug. The blonde popstar laughed, placing down her bags.

"Hey, baby girl," she said, kissing you on the forehead.

"I missed you," you whispered, practically melting into her.

"I missed you too, baby, so much."

Finally, you pulled away, watching as Taylor got settled back in.

"How long are you staying for?" you quipped.

She sighed, hanging her coat by the doorway. "Just for a few days. I have to be in Los Angeles soon."

You tried your best to hide the disappointment in your voice. "Oh. Well, it's great to have you back."

Taylor barely acknowledged your comment, instead turning towards the oven.

"Oh! You're making cookies," she exclaimed in delight. "Can't wait to try them."

You gave her a small smile, before following her up to your bedroom suite.

You're like a lost puppy.

You grimaced at the voice in your head, the same voice that had haunted every dream of yours for the past few months. You'd tried to shrug it off at first, but the more you tried to ignore it, the louder it got.

"Babe? Are you listening?"

Taylor's voice jolted you out of your train of thought, her cerulean eyes boring into yours.

"Yeah," you answered shakily, forcing a smile back onto your face.

You could practically feel the atmosphere drop. The look in your girlfriend's eyes told you everything you needed to know.

"Y/N..."

"I'm fine," you snapped, turning away from her. You couldn't bear to look her in the eyes right now. You couldn't face the same soft-spoken words, the way she'd coerce you into her arms again.

"You're not fine. What happened, baby?"

You hated it. You hated when she talked to you like this. You didn't know why this was such a trigger for you, but you knew that you didn't like it.

Yet then again, it was exactly what you needed. A push. You'd been growing distant, and it hadn't gone unnoticed by Taylor. She had only come back for one reason, after all.

"You can tell me. I'm here to listen."

That was the final nail in the coffin. You could feel the tears burning in the back of your eyes, the red flush returning to your cheeks.

"I just missed you, that's all," you rasped, but even you didn't believe yourself this time.

You could feel Taylor's fingers glide over your jaw, gently forcing it upwards so that you were facing her.

"I love you," she husked. "You know that, right?"

The silence that followed confirmed her suspicions.

"Oh, baby girl," she sighed, her hand finding it's way around the back of your head. She pulled you closer, your face just inches above her breasts. "You can let go. I'm here."

With a final, shaky breath, you relented, letting go of your body. Taylor led you towards the bed, pulling you up onto her lap.

"Everything's going to be okay," she murmured, running her fingers through your hair.

And just for one moment, with your head on her lap and her calloused hands delicately caressing your skin, you truly did believe her.

#taylor swift x reader #taylor swift imagine #taylor swift #taylor swift x fem!reader #taylor swift oneshot #taylor swift 1989 #1989 taylor's version #allofthegirlss #taylor swift fanfic #taylor swift x you

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antisocialties · 1 year

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Late Night Calls.

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: in which you call matt late at night when things aren’t going so well.

Warnings: mentions of mental health issues, angst, and etc.

To say today had sucked would’ve been an understatement to say the least.

Today was just one of those days where the second you woke up you felt like shit and wished you simply wouldn’t have waken up in the first place.

You looked up at the plain white ceiling with a blank and stoic look on your face. It was almost pitch black in your room, the tv wasn’t even turned on.

You couldn’t help but hate being alone right now with every aching bone in your body, thoughts racing through your head at a mile a minute. At this point you were quite convinced your head would never quiet down enough to sleep before the sun came up.

You rolled over from your back, reaching for the sheets beside you which your phone laid upon.

3:46 am. You let out an exhausted groan after seeing the time on your lockscreen. There was only one thing you could think to do right now that would actually get you to calm down and sleep.

You instantly clicked on your messages, clicking on Matt’s contact info and clicking the call button before sitting up with the sheets still covering your cold legs.

It rang a quite few times before being answered, you felt bad; assuming you’d waken him up from his slumber since you’d previously facetimed him a few hours ago before he’d said he was going to lay down after filming a car video with his brothers.

“Everything okay, babe?” He asked with a groggy and concerned voice.

“Not really, I still just can’t shake the low feeling i’ve had all day. I don’t even know why i’ve been feeling this shitty all day, I just know it won’t go away and I can’t sleep.” You confessed while holding back tears.

“You wanna talk about it some more?”

“Yes please. I’m really sorry for waking you up, I love you baby.” You quickly let out before interrupting your words with a sob.

You felt an immense amount of guilt for putting something this heavy on him, especially just after you’d woken him up so late.

“Y/n stop, you’re okay honey. I love you, the last thing I want is for you to be apologizing for coming to me when you need me most. We’ve already been over this countless times, you never need to apologize to me for things like this.” He spoke in a soothing but troubled tone.

Anytime you apologized for confiding in him with your issues, he couldn’t help but feel his heart break more and more each time. He never wanted you to feel like a burden to him, he’d never forgive himself if he couldn’t be there for you in your times of need.

“I love you.” you hiccuped, struggling to even get the words out as the pace of your sobs only got quicker and more violent.

You tried to force more words out to describe the heavy and dreadful feeling in your chest, but you couldn’t even form the proper words and were only met with heavy aching sobs.

“Alright i’m coming over, you don’t need to leave the door unlocked i’ll just bring my key.” He stated, no longer being able to hear your cries and not be able to do anything about them.

“Do you want me to bring anything?” He asked sincerely.

“I’m not gonna ask you for anything, I already feel awful enough waking you up and making you feel like you need to come over.” You sniffled.

“So yes. I’m getting food and ice cream. You can either eat it or save it for later, i’m getting it regardless.”

You sniffled and smiled to yourself, knowing how lucky you were to have a boyfriend like him.

“Alright babe, i’m leaving now so i’m gonna hang up.” he told you as you heard his keys jingling, before the sound of the call ending.

Your apartment was pretty close to their house so it only took him about 20 minutes to get to you, normally it would be less time but he stopped by McDonalds grabbing food and mcflurries for you both.

Your sobs had slowed and calmed down to where they had pretty much came to a complete halt, tears still occasionally dripping down your face.

You got up slowly and turned your led lights and tv on, also deciding to light a candle since you were trying to set a calm vibe for yourself and for him to walk into.

A few minutes later you heard the sound of a key entering the lock of the front door and the knob turning as he opened the door and walked inside quietly closing it behind him.

His calm footsteps approached your room from the living room of your apartment, his face peeking into your already open bedroom door with a soft comforting smile as he met your puffy eyes.

“Hi baby.” He greeted you while kicking his shoes off beside your door and walking toward your spot on your bed with a drink carrier and a large bag of food.

“Hi.” you croaked scooting over so he could sit down next to you.

He placed the drink carrier with the drinks and mcflurries on your bedside table closest to him, setting the bag on the floor beside the bed and scooting over to you to give you a peck on the cheek.

You didn’t even exchange anymore words before he wrapped his arms around you and coaxed you to lay your head in the crook of his neck as you two pressed your backs against the wall behind your bed.

You deeply inhaled, stifling back a sob as you took in his scent and the warmth of his body against your own.

“Thank you for coming all the way over here, I love you and I appreciate you so much. You’re the love of my life.” you babbled, hot tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Always, I love you more than you’ll ever know and i’m so glad I could be here with you tonight.” He told you in a soft voice before pressing a long kiss to the top of your head.

He grabbed your remote and clicked on the Disney icon on your tv, putting on Gravity Falls for you guys to binge all over again for the millionth time. This was a show you guys both really enjoyed, and found yourself watching late at night relatively often.

He grabbed the mcflurries out of the carrier on the small table beside him and offered you yours, assuming it would soothe your most likely burning throat from your aggressive crying.

You took it, softly thanking him before you put a small bite of the ice cream into your mouth.

You guys finished your ice cream and ate all of your food in silence, him getting up to throw all of your garbage away in your kitchen and quickly returning.

He climbed back into the bed with you, laying down so you could get close to him again.

You laid your head on his chest, feeling his soft cotton t shirt on the side of your face while his chest rose up and down at a calm and slow pace.

You breathed in his scent while hearing the steady beat of his heart as he watched the tv on your wall in front of the bed. You looked up at his face, noticing the slight look of concentration on his features.

Eventually he noticed you looking up at him and returned your gaze, his eyes meeting yours for a few seconds before he leaned down to press a kiss against your lips.

There was nothing better than being in his arms and exchanging affection with him when you were feeling so miserable. There was nothing better regardless of your mood in all honesty.

Your heart swelled remembering all of the times you guys had been in this position before, cherishing every single memory like this one your brain had filed away.

“You feeling tired yet?” he questioned.

“Yeah, I feel a lot better now too.” you nodded.

You snuggled into his chest while adjusting yourself again to get as comfortable as possible to sleep.

He noticed as you began to dose off, the show still playing at a decent volume in the background. He only knew you’d started to fall asleep because your breathing got deeper.

“I love you.” he voiced quietly as he rubbed your back, being cautious as not to wake you if you’d completely passed out.

“I love you too.” you mumbled into the fabric of his shirt.

He only smiled as he closed his eyes and continued to softly rub the small of your back.

He cherished you just as much as you did him, maybe even more.

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feel free to drop a comment if you’d like to be added to my tag list! i’m also still accepting requests for both matt and chris! feel free to send anything to my asks, just no NSFW! <3

ps i’m sorry to whoever sent this ask in first lol i accidentally posted it before i even wrote anything bc i pressed post instead of saving the draft to go pick a picture that fit the concept of the fic 😭

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tag list: @im-a-matt-girl @sturniolomads @hii-multifandom-toomany @stxrniqlo @mettsturniolo

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets imagine #matthew sturniolo

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heyhihellosworld · 3 months

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𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮...

Rúben Dias x reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, alcohol consumption

Notes: Loved the request, so thank you! It has been in my drafts for a while but I finally managed to tie it together!

Request: Bestie i desperately need a ruben x footballer!reader, maybe where they can’t accept their feelings for each other for whatever reason and it’s kinda bratty and flirty + teasing -

Bodies entangled, breaths mingling and hands roaming. It was all so hot, so picture perfect but it didn't give you anything. Your body keening but your mind reeling, nowhere close to being around the man who currently had his dick in you, he wasn't that special.

A mutter left your mouth, a mutter meant for the man who was currently stuck in your head. "Yeah you like that?" the man above you whispered hotly, and you did, you did like it but it wasn't good enough to erase the man in your thoughts.

"Mhm" you mumbled back, trying to shut down all the thoughts, be in the moment. Eyes closed, shoving him out of your head, your hands tangled around his neck, bringing him closer to you, his hot words in your ear worked, until your phone started making sounds.

He didn't care though, too close to the edge of coming to care. You let out a few exasperated moans as he started to jerk, feigning your orgasm already been upon you as he came with a loud groan.

He got the picture pretty fast, putting his clothes back on, greeting goodbye as you picked up your phone, your lockscreen filled with notifications but all of them were from the same person, the one person who was etched in your mind

Ruben

That fucker.

1 year earlier

Being out felt great, your friends in high spirits just as yourself as you drank and danced the night away. The Euros were done, the season was done and now you had those rare few days off before the new season would kick off and you hadn't said no to a party.

Dancing with arms raised, singing along to the music, head banging along with the tunes, drinks flowing, people flirting. It was nice to feel like a normal young person again, feeling like you blended in.

Standing at the bar you felt eyes on you, the man standing opposite from you gazing over you as you waited for your drink.

His eyes tuned in on you, scanning every centimeter of your body in a way that would have made you uncomfortable but for some reason it didn't. He was not subtle in the way he was blatantly staring at you and in some way you felt it intriguing more than uncomfortable.

It didn't take many more minutes until he approached, drink in hand and eyes a little hazy, telling you he was indeed not completely sober.

Your eyes followed his tall strong frame moving along the floor, gently nudging people as he went through the crowd until he stopped in front of you, his lips now in a small teasing smile.

Sleeping with someone was not on your agenda but if this man was as good at flirting as he was good looking, maybe that would change throughout the night.

It did in fact change. Not many minutes in and you were already craving for him, craving to go home with this man. So, you did.

He looked like a fucking art work and he fucked like a maniac, even in your drunk haze you recongised that much. His body moved into yours with such precise movements it didn't take long before you lost all control.

Waking up you felt exhausted to the bone. Eyes fighting against the light as memories flooded your mind. Blinking sleepily as your brain connected the dots.

You were not home, you were not in your clothes and you were not alone. Biting in a loud groan you turned around, suddenly face to face with the stranger from last night.

How did this happen?

You usually never had time to go out, too caught up with your career. The break was different though, time to let your hair down and have fun. However fun did not include hooking up with strangers.

You bit in another groan at the thought of the PR mess now at hand but pushed the thoughts away. It could be dealt with later and hopefully nobody had catched you with the man sleeping beside you. His body moved rhythmically in his sleep and you couldn’t help but let your eyes rake over him.

He was handsome, good job

His face chiseled and sharp, eyelashes soft against his cheek, lips slightly pouted, stubble perfectly trimmed. His hair was slightly messy on top of his head. He had no shirt on making it possible for you to see his gorgeous body, blanket thrown low on his hips and you had to force your gaze away from the handsome guy.

Instead you rolled around, looking around in the room. Too exhausted to get up from the comfortable bed yet and looking at the guy he wouldn’t be up yet for a while.

Your eyes traveled over the luxury room, big windows showing the beautiful view of Manchester, the drapes not closed due to the hurry from last night.

Clothes were scattered on a chair, neat but still laid out enough for you to see the bright blue shirt laying on the top. This guy had actually brought you to his apartment. Wow.

The shirt nagged you though, the color too familiar to look past. You teared your eyes away from it, looking at the bedside table that was completely clean of anything. His walls were pretty clean as well. The biggest wall taken up by the big windows, the door wall had a few photos but your eyes couldn't make out what they pictured in the dim light of the gray Manchester morning.

Your eyes traveled to the shirt again, fingers itching to see it more clearly, it was too familiar.

Soon enough you couldn't let it go. It was too familiar and it rang a bell somewhere. You gently crawled out of the bed, careful not to wake up the guy beside you as you tipped over to the chair. The bells only getting louder as you reached out to pick it up. Suddenly you understood why it was so familiar, it was the colors of Manchester City. The bright blue so bright it should be recognisable everywhere.

Your eyes traveled back to the guy in the bed, his toned body, strong thighs... not he couldn't be... right? He was probably just a fan.

He couldn't play for City, could he? I mean you did know most of the players in the team, at least basic knowledge.

You took the shirt out fully, turning it to read the name on the back.

Rúben Dias

Rúben Dias, fuck that was ringing a bell. Only Rúben told you nothing. But Rúben Dias. You knew that name, which meant..

You searched for your phone hurriedly, catching it on the bedside table and you immediately sprung for it. Clicking up google and searching the name frantically.

Benfica. Portugal

Manchester City

Fuck fuck fuck

No, how could this be? Since when was he in City?

You dropped the shirt like it was poisonous. Staring at it on the floor, eying it with hatred as you turned to the man again, how can someone so beautiful be in such a team? He was basically the enemy, you were fraternizing with the enemy.

You giggled at your dramatic reaction before turning around to the wall of pictures again, using your phone to light them up. City Champions league final, Portugal team photo, City premier league winners. The evidences were clear and you gulped, fuck. This was gonna be hard to explain to your team buddies in Manchester united.

As you stared at the evidences you heard a low murmur, looking over at the man in his bed, slowly waking up. Your brain shortcutted, should you flee? Scream? Stand still?

Your brain was shortcutting for too long and soon enough the man had woken up completely, blinking up at you in confusion as he tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes.

"Morning" he grumbled, slowly scrambling to sit up but you were too choked up to speak.

His eyes looked you up and down and suddenly you felt very naked in the t-shirt you had on. A cocky little smile made its way on his face and he chuckled at your deer-caught in headlight expression as he sloppily weaved his fingers through his messy hair.

"You, you play football" you choke out after what felt like an eternity, this was not that big of a deal but it still took a lot for your brain to cooperate and to work fully again.

"Yes? Is that a problem?" he chuckled, looking at you weirdly and suddenly it caught on to you how weird you must look, standing in his t-shirt on the floor, staring wildly at the man and looking a proper mess.

You sighed, tangling your hands through your hair and sat down on the bed with a sigh. "Sorry" you waved it off. "I just didn't know you played for City"

Rúbens face didn't seem more understanding as you chuckled to yourself "it's gonna be a fun one to tell in training"

"What?"

You met his eyes again, smiling slightly as you shrugged "I play too, in Manchester united"

He looked almost perplexed for a moment as he swallowed hard, flacking his gaze around before letting out a small groan, his hands coming up to rub over his face.

"Oh" he mumbled before letting out an amused chuckle "Well this will indeed be a fun one to tell the boys"

If only that had been all. If all it had been was a fun story to tell, but it had become everything but fun. How a one nightstand turned into a cat and mouse game you had no idea. One night, it was great, fun and hot. You had thought that would be it, a hot night with a footballer, not so bad right?

However the fun little story had turned into a fucking burden. Somewhere along the way the amusement had turned into annoyance, the tension had turned unbearable and your one night stand had become more than that.

Maybe it had been the gala only a few days later, where you had been forced into the same space and had been pushed to interact. Maybe it had been the way you danced with his colleagues or the way he smiled at yours. But that silent understanding had turned into a competition.

He didn't want to share and neither did you. But, neither of you wanted to admit it.

That's how you had come to the place you were in now. Like a dance between jealousy, annoyance, sex and fights.

Now

That fucking bastard

He knew exactly what he was doing. It was the same every time. The same looks, the same lines, the same behavior. But it never failed. He always got you like he wanted in the end so why change a winning concept?

This night it had been easier than usual to give in. His shirt being a huge reason why as it clung to his chest and showed the outlines through the thin fabric. Ridiculous. But still so hot you could barely tear your eyes from him.

And that's why you were in his apartment. Looking at him with needy eyes as your fingers tried to unbutton the ridiculous piece of clothing he had chosen for the night.

"You could almost guess you needed me at this range" Ruben mumbled in your ear, the tone joking to the human ear only you knew it wasn't a joke. He was taunting.

Your tongue itched to say something back, talk back to him and that cocky attitude he had, but you bit your lip, keeping the words inside because you knew you would get what you wanted faster if you didn't.

"What if I do?" you spoke lowly, breath fanning his ear as you spoke your carefully picked words. His eyes almost widened at your words, having guessed you would not be admitting it, you usually wouldn't and the smirk he gave and the squeeze he left on your hip was along the same lines you hated. Good girl

It didn't take long for you to scramble off from the sofa and up to his room, strong arms and determined hands guiding you on the floors, around the corners, past the doors until you were in his bed.

His hands immediately helped you out of your dress, throwing it without regard. He quickly snapped off your bra with such a hurry even you were surprised.

You looked up at him with so much need he almost chuckled, glee in his eyes as he let his palms run up and down your body. Cupping your bare breasts before running down your thighs.

"You are so pretty" he mumbled, the praise going straight to your core, a soft whine leaving your lips to his amusement

He was quick to slip off your flimsy panties, not touching only teasing and you started to feel the frustration building. This was how it usually was, he got you all needy and fuzzy for him but then he teased you long enough for you to snap, the bratty attitude crawling forward to demand more.

Like he was reading your thoughts his hand came under your jaw, tilting your face up to his. His thumb rubbed over your bottom lip before slipping inside your mouth, pressing down on your tongue to keep you quiet.

He slipped his middle and pointed finger inside your mouth, coating them in your spit before pushing his thumb in again. Keeping it on your tongue as his spit coated fingers made contact with your sobbing pussy.

A loud whine left your throat, muffled over his tongue but he still heard it. He loved this, having control, battling for control. His eyes showed nothing but desire as he watched how your face contorted in pleasure.

"See how nice I can be when you behave huh?" he mocked you, his voice tingling with cockiness and sweet sweet praise.

"Ruben" you got out, only a distinct murmur in his ears but it sounded just as beautiful for him as anything else. "Hm?" he mocked you, looking up at your hazy eyes, mocking the state he got you in so quickly, without effort. He removed his thumb, eyes following the line of spit connecting you before you spoke up.

"Come on" you mumbled, breaking out to talk back, hating the mocking look in his eyes. "Do something" you demanded, his eyes narrowing, tutting at you.

"What happened now huh?"

your eyes rolled as his hands stilled between your legs, eyes glazing over. "Fuck of Ruben, just touch me properly"

His chuckle was again mocking, telling you it was not gonna happen this way but you couldn't wait. "Why so bratty? I thought you were gonna be good tonight, started so well" he tutted, feigning disappointment as he shook his head but his smirk betrayed him, telling you he loved this bratty behavior of yours because it gave him the opportunity to completely control you.

You bucked, groaning at him but you also knew this was not gonna get you what you wanted. He always waited until you gave up, dropping into submission before finally giving you what you wanted, it didn't make you stop trying though. Not bending easily.

You sighed, giving him an deadpan glare but still you said "please" the words so lowly muttered he barely heard them but he still hummed with praise "that's better"

His fingers gently moved between your legs once again, just as teasingly slow and light as before and it was driving you completely mad.

"Use your words pretty girl, tell me what you want"

Your eyes squeezed shut, trying to focus your mind on actual words instead of insults laying hot on your tongue at his silky sweet tone and laughable words.

"Please, touch me properly" you sighed out at last, words sure and a tiny bit biting but he was happy so far at least. Giving in to your wishes as his fingers started giving proper friction over your clit before slowly entering you with one.

Your head fell back in relief, breathing out a small yes, thank you which only made his grin wider. "Yeah? That's all you wanted? Why did you make it so hard for yourself then little princess" he mocked as he entered a second finger, slowly fucking you with them and curling them every other thrust.

"Fuck, feels good Ruben" you moaned, eyes fluttering closed as his fingers curled repeatedly against your wall making you feel floaty on the soft sheet.

"Please, don't stop" you pleaded, feeling the start of an orgasm curling to the surface, hands gripping the bed sheets tightly, back arching and eyes falling shut. "So good" you mumbled, head lolling to the side as it felt so so close now.

But

Of course he stopped, halting his fingers in a curl, chuckling at the groan you let out. "So so" he cooed lightly, mocking your pathetic thrusts, trying to make him move again.

"Ruben" you whined, opening your eyes to glare at his smug face "What? I never heard the question"

"I was so close!" you argued, stopping your hips as he pulled out completely, prodding the two fingers at your lips

"Were you?" he asked dumbly, feigning not understanding as he pushed his fingers in between your lips.

"Fuck you" you grumbled as you pulled of his fingers, a scowl on your face that replicated his as he looked down at you.

"Always have so much to say huh?" "Prefer me quiet and pliant?" you almost spat at him but the sudden rage suddenly disappeared as a smile made its way on his face, this time a fond smile.

"No, I actually kinda love this bratty little mouth" he whispered before leaning down to capture your mouth with his in a sweet but lustful kiss. Stealing the breath from your lungs as he continued to kiss you until you were writhing on the bed again. Desperate, even more so than before.

"Do you want something?" he asked sweetly as your hips grinded against his thick thigh, desperate for friction. You didn't want to fight it anymore, you needed him. Too desperate to talk back. "Please Ruben, want you to fuck me, please" you babbled out, head slightly fuzzy as you continued to move against his thigh. "Aw, such a good girl" he praised before finally taking off his shirt and jeans, letting you feel his gorgeous body before discarding his boxers. Jerking himself before lining up with you.

He didn't say anything else as he slowly started to sink into you, his eyes closing and face scrunching up in concentration.

Your eyes rolled as he bottomed out, moaning something not even you could make out but it just felt so overwhelming, like it always did with Ruben. It was so all consuming, heated and so much that it was almost to too much.

"Fuck" he muttered out, slowly starting to thrust, his chain flying around his neck as he did so and his eyes falling shut. "Always so good when I'm inside you pretty" he praised, relishing in the choked out sounds you managed to spill out.

"Feel so good"

"Think how much of this you could get if you weren't such a brat all the time" he teased, voice strained as he panted hard.

Fuck off where at the tip of your tongue but you bit it in, swallowing the words and jus let out a moan instead. This was what you wanted after all.

It was like all the tension in the air was edging you all the time, so when you finally got what you wanted, what you craved it was almost tipping you over the edge immediately.

Ruben was not that much better though, easily coming with you whenever you fell over the edge if he wanted to. It was never an issue, it was never something that mattered, it was so all consuming, loaded and heated it seemed impossible to have it any other way whenever he was close to you, let alone, inside of you.

"This is what you wanted, no? Being filled up? Getting fucked like you deserve?"

"Mhm" you mumbled, trying to move alongside him, trying to ground yourself with a hand in his short hair but all it did was make him moan which made you even more aroused.

It was barely a sound but Ruben understood regardless, moving your hips up slightly before pounding into you, stealing your breath and thought completely as you came point blank. Limp in his hold as he followed, grunting into your neck.

You stayed in that position, panting harshly into his chest. Nobody said anything, just trying to regulate your breathing, calm down from the high.

It was Ruben who spoke first, his face in the crook of your neck, words muttered out.

"What if I want this to be more?"

His words caught you off guard, there was no way... no way he was giving up. "What?"

"What if I'm tired of this game, this jealousy. What if I want you to myself, would you let me?"

You couldn't stop the gigantic grin that spread over your lips, a finger gently tilting his chin to look at you

"Say it" you demanded and he did, not breaking eye contact as he spilled the words you had been craving to hear for so long now

"I like you y/n, I want you y/n"

"Then I'm all yours"

#rúben dias #rúben dias fanfiction #rúben dias fanfic #rúben dias imagines #rúben dias imagine #rúben x reader #rúben dias x reader #footballer fanfic #footballer fanfiction #footballer imagine #football imagine #manchester city #rúben dias smut #rúben dias fluff #rúben dias angst

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fuckwallpapers · 1 year

Text

maybe love will set you free

I’m obsessed with them

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jesuschristmattyhealy · 1 year

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you're the only one I want to see

to the anon who suggested this idea: I hope you know it has become a permanent installment of my before-bed-fantasy-dream-time. this is very much inspired by the Andrew/Amelia Golden Globe's interview, hence the title. thanks to @hereyeswerefilledwiththestars for the reader's interview theme I appreciate you bestie <33 hope you all enjoy comments and feedback is always appreciated. ilysm

////

“I think you’re being summoned.”

“Am I?”

You watch in professional disbelief as Harry Styles turns in profile to find that, yes, his publicist is waving him onto the next interview.

“Oh, yeah,” he pouts, “So sad, I was having such a good time chatting.”

“Don’t worry,” you reply with an air of chumminess you can’t quite believe is coming across as effortless, “We’ll find a time soon, darling, I promise.”

“They can’t keep us apart, I won’t let them,” he declares, “Keep up the good work.”

“I’ll certainly try!” You call after his retreating back. As soon as he’s out of ear and eye shot you double over, wheezing to the camera man, “I can’t believe I just had a full conversation with him.”

It’s the 2023 Britt Awards and British GQ has hired you as a representative for the red carpet, after your web series gained popularity and got you noticed by large publications across Europe and America. In a world where every interview has to have a schtick, yours is called “Two Drink Minimum,” a show where you invite celebrities out for at least two drinks and ask them increasingly more ridiculous questions as the night progresses. So far, you’ve hosted names such as Pedro Pascal, Bryce Dallas Howard and Jonathon Van Ness and in the new year, it seems like everyone’s publicist is in your inbox asking for a feature. Your career has led you to a lot of “pinch me” moments, but watching Harry Styles’ ever-sequined back sauntering away from you calls for a punch square in the face.

Suddenly, a male voice pulls you from your star-struck stupor.

“I was hoping you’d be here.”

You start, spinning around to come face to face with the man who decorated both your high school bedroom and college dorm room, and your phone lockscreen for as long as you can remember having one. Matty Healy, wearing a dark green suit and an amused smile.

You press a hand to your chest, “You scared me-”

Instinctively, he reaches for your forearm, “-oh no, I didn’t mean to scare you-”

You grip the sleeve of his suit, hardly believing his real skin and bone is beneath it, “-you just materialized out of nowhere-”

“-I was just so excited to see you, I couldn’t help myself.” He giggles — really giggles.

You can feel your face heating up in spite of yourself, “Wha- excited to see me? Matty Healy please-”

“No, really, ask the boys I’ve been dying to meet you.”

The knowledge that the men of the 1975 have even mentioned your name, let alone had full conversations about you, is almost too much to handle. You search for a word, anything really, that might be appropriate. Your brain feels like hot pea soup.

“And where is your… gang this evening?”

His brow furrows, you immediately regret saying anything. Staring at him might’ve even been better.

His lips turn up at the end, “Gang?-”

You’re already explaining yourself, “I don’t know why I said that you’re-”

He’s smiling full on now, like he knows something you don’t,“Yeah, there’s a name for what we are, love, it’s a-”

“- A band, I’m sorry it’s just that I’ve been talking to Harry Styles and I’ve lost all cognitive ability,” you joke, gesturing wildly at your forehead.

He rolls his eyes, the smile becomes a smirk, “Oh that’s it, is it, you’re still thinking about him? Should I leave, should I go find him for you?” He points his thumb behind him, already turning to go.

You reach for his arm again, giggling at his sarcasm, “No, no, Matty that’s not what I meant-”

“- No it’s alright, I don’t want to stand in the way of true love.” He waves one hand at you, the other loosely holds your finger tips.

“No, honestly what it is is that I’m actually getting really nervous around you but I was embarrassed so I used Harry as a cover,” Truer words had never been spoken.

He’s nodding, a single strand of hair tickling his eyebrows,“Oh, there’s the backpedal, no it’s alright the damage is done, I see where I stand. Just England’s second best male pop star, that’s alright.”

You whistle through your teeth, donning a jokingly skeptical look,“I don’t know, I feel like Ed Sheeran might have that title.”

His mouth actually falls open at that,“Ed Shee- right I’m leaving, you’ve slandered me for the last time-”

You’re laughing now, the nerves have gone. It feels like you’ve been old friends forever,“No! Matty, don’t give up on us-”

He shakes his head, looking away from you into the crowd, “-after I was so kind and complimentary to you-”

“- you’re right I’m the worst, I’m awful-”

“-telling you how excited I was to see you, practically baring my soul-”

“- please come back, let’s talk about this!”

“Ok, fine you’ve convinced me.” He circles back to you, clasping his hands in front of him. His eyes make a trail from your eyes to your mouth to your necklace back to your eyes. If you weren’t blushing before you certainly are now.

You take a deep breath, “Ok, now you were telling me where your band is.”

“Yeah, they’re queueing at the Glam Bot.”

“Oh, is there a line?”

“Yeah, it’s ages long too, I couldn’t stand there any longer. George is gonna text me when we’re up.”

“Do you have your pose planned?” You ask.

“No, and I’ll tell you what we should probably figure that out because that thing is proper intimidating.”

“Yeah, it comes at you awfully fast doesn’t it?”

“Yes! It’s so fast, I get nervous just watching it.”

“Matty Healy? Afraid of a robot?”

He frowns with his whole face, leaning backwards,“No, no, I’m not. I’m a big guy, I don’t get scared-”

You roll your eyes, laughing through your nose,“That’s right I forgot, forgive me.”

“-It’s fine, just try to remember next time,” He winks at you, just barely so much so you think you might have imagined it, “No, I’m mostly just scared that I’ll blink or something stupid.”

You make a noise of agreement, “Do you want to practice not blinking?”

He bites his lip in thought,“How would we do that, exactly?”

“Easy, we’ll just have a staring contest.”

“Oh yeah, okay .”

You square off, each of you closing your eyes in preparation.

“Ok,” you say, “Counting us down. Three, two, one, go.”

You open your eyes and are immediately met with his stare, dark amber, autumn leaves and the forest at sunrise, maple and mahogany. Your breath catches in your throat. He’s smirking at you again, as if he can read your thoughts. You try to think about neutral things, dogs, going to the grocery store tomorrow, how much your feet hurt right now, just in case he can.

“My eyes hurt already,” You whisper.

He doesn’t say anything, just hums something under his breath. It all feels strangely intimate, all these people in the room and he’s staring at you like you’re the first person he’s ever seen in his life. An idea washes over you suddenly. He’s rocking back and forth slightly on his heels. Just as he moves forward, you lift your hand and snap your fingers in front of his nose. He blinks immediately.

“Ha! You blinked!”

“That’s cheating!” He’s indignant, his Northern accent evident.

“It’s not cheating, I’m just preparing you!” You laugh as he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair.

“This is so unfair,” he rubs his dry eyes with the heel of his palm.

You pout sarcastically at him. “I’m so sorry, I hope someday you can forgive me.”

“It might take a while,” He wrinkles his nose at you, then is distracted by his phone lighting up i his pocket, “Oh, George is demanding I come back now.”

Your stomach falls slightly, “Yes, go back to your-”

“Gang?” he raises his eyebrows.

“-exactly.”

He touches your arm again, the skin tingles, “So sorry to leave you, I feel like that was probably the most worthless interview you’ve done all night-”

You laugh.

“Not like that it was bad, I just feel like I didn’t give you anything whatsoever.”

You place your hand over your heart, “Don’t worry, it was very impactful to me.”

“Ok, well that’s all that matters,” He’s inching away, lingering slightly, “Maybe we uh… maybe we can have a redo on your show.”

You hum agreement, “Now there’s an idea, Healy.”

“I have good ones sometimes.” He shrugs, thumbs in his pockets.

“I’ll have my people get in touch with your people,” You say, and before you can stop yourself, shoot him a pair of finger guns.

He’s almost turned away, but does a double take, laughing, “Did you just finger gun me?”

“Pretend that didn’t happen.”

“Sure. I’ll see you in there.”

He walks away, giggling still, looking over his shoulder at you. You retreat to the bathroom to call your roommate in hysterics.

#matty healy fic #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fic #im very excited abt this one I must say #hope you all enjoy !!!#mayhaps there is a part two being thunk

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darkacademiablues · 10 months

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Timothée Chalamet looking all rich and soft.

#timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothée imagine #timothee imagine #timothee fluff #timothée fanfic #cmbyn #call me by your name #bones and all #timothee smut #timothée x reader #timothee edit #timothee fanfic #lady bird #lil timmy tim #timothee chalamet smut #timothee chalamet fluff #timothee chalamet lockscreen

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shibaraki · 2 years

Text

Katsuki liked the quiet. Not always — invigorated by the bone rattling bass of explosive palms, trying not to grin when surrounded by his friends rambunctious laughter or enduring his mothers sharp nagging — but sometimes.

The apartment is still, and he is at ease. You watch him knowing there is tenderness written into your expression, because when he meets your gaze over the top of his book his eyes become narrow, framed by his reading glasses. It isn’t an accusation, more of a question. More of a what did you see that made you look at me like that?

He turns a page without a glance to the paper. It’s loud in the otherwise silent living room. You sit opposite him on the couch with knees tucked to the side, cheek leant against the back cushion with idle fingers tracing the seams. Katsuki is supported by the far arm, sitting upright with one foot left on the carpet and the other by your thigh. With it, he kicks you softly.

“Stop starin’ at me,” he mutters. You loved him so much, and he loved you too, but sometimes he wasn’t sure what to do with it. It lined his stomach heavily like a meal eaten too hastily, uncomfortable to carry as if his body ran out of space.

Your lips thin as you fight a laugh, settling back and directing your attention to the phone in your lap. Your lockscreen is a picture of the two of you, a candid taken during a recent get together. Katsuki has his arm around your lower back, having cradled you against his front where your hands came to rest, and your foreheads were pressed together in what was a fleeting moment of solace. Denki had caught it on camera with the intention of teasing — mainly Katsuki for being so publicly sweet on you — but claimed it was too romantic to make fun of.

“What now?”

His voice is a little rough and warm, like he hadn’t used it in a while. You hum questioningly, and look back up at him.

“You’re smiling at your phone”.

“So nosey,” you say, smile widening as he glares. Reaching down between your hip and the cushion, you wrap your fingers around his ankle. “Maybe it’s a secret”.

At that, his mouth purses into a pout, lower lip jutted out in thought. Then he huffs and returns to the book in his hands, the beginnings of a frown pinched between his brows. “Fine. Tell me when you’re ready then”.

He’s consciously patient, always is. Plenty of people might disagree and you wouldn’t blame them for assuming that being headstrong translated to being impatient; but the Katsuki you knew did things methodically and with the intent to see it through. Good, long lasting results took time, that's what he believed. And that belief bled into all corners of his life, including his relationship with you.

But in this case, he knows that it’ll pluck at your heart string a bit. Twist them like spun sugar. You're willing to bet that he isn't even reading the chapter, just leering at the words until the edges start to blur, waiting for you to crack.

And you do. Fingers squeezing his calf decisively, you fold both legs beneath your body to crawl towards him. The distance isn't far and he's already lifting his arms to accommodate you, lowering them again once you've settle onto his chest. You can feel his wrists where they rest against your back, between them the spine of the book.

You peer up at him, nose brushing the line of his jaw. It's slightly rough where his stubble has grown in overnight. He leans into you, but continues to scrutinise the pages.

“Your handsome face”.

His eyes flicker towards you from behind the frames, light from the window pooling bright in his irises, “hah?”

“That was the secret. I was smiling at your handsome face on my phone. Couldn't keep it in any longer”.

His expression softens, but he still makes a show of clicking his tongue behind his teeth. “Dumbass,” he murmurs, readjusting his thighs to fit snug either side of your hips, holding you closer. “You just wanted some attention”.

No, you think amusedly, you did. “Maybe I missed you. You've been reading that book for ages”.

“Like hell. It's been one hour,” he knocks his chin into your temple in retaliation, “if you're so fuckin' deprived I guess I can read it to you”.

Warmth floods your chest. This, you hadn't expected. “Really?” you ask, your voice partially breathless. Your delight at the suggestion rings clear, and the bridge of his nose wrinkles.

Katsuki turns into your crown, hiding the embarrassment in your hair. “Whatever. It’ll keep you quiet,” and happy. He means happy. “I’m not starting from the beginning though. Tough luck”.

Leaning upwards, you peck the corner of his cheek in appreciation, which he tilts into with dissatisfaction. “Kiss me properly,” he says, and then he kisses you again, gently seizing your mouth for a few short seconds before nipping your bottom lip with his teeth. “There. Now hurry up and get comfortable”.

You hum in contentment as you return to your place on his chest, resting below his collar with the beat of his pulse by your ear. He begins to read aloud, stilted at first, the insecurity slowly stripped away until his tone is warm, low and soothing, as if it were rocking you to sleep.

You’re reminded again that all things needed respite. Even the loud, even the brash.

Katsuki liked the quiet, so did you.

#bnha x reader #bakugo x reader #literally just a sfw gn drabble but it got to 900 so I put a readmore <3 #m.bakugo

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