#a friendship that's become something more
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Pinterest comments of the week: Good Omens S1 press tour edition.
#michael sheen#welsh seduction machine#david tennant#soft scottish hipster gigolo#where is the lie though#very very married#i wish more people realized that Michael has been like this since the beginning#this was 2019#and five years later he still looks at David this way#i think Michael has been telling us exactly who he is for a long time now#they are perfect together your honor#a friendship that's become something more#ineffable lovers
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𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 (l.hs)
pairing: gamer!heeseung x reader (f)
summary: heeseung neglects you just to play his stupid game, so you try to relieve your frustration by humping his pillow— how you ended up riding his dick, you’re not sure.
warnings: smut. masturbating, pillow humping, riding, dirty talking, pet names (baby, slut, whore), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap up your willy!), creampie, breeding kink, kinda cnc at the ending, if more Imk. NOT PROOFREAD
published: 25th April 2024
wc: 1.9k
tag list: @jaeyunsbimbo
a/n: guess who should be writing for the project but hasn’t even finished writing one scene? me! anyways, hope you’ll enjoy this gamer heeseung drabble and let me know your thoughts! REBLOG & LIKE PLS! maybe part 2?
When Heeseung and you first started hanging out, everyone started mistaking your friendship for dating. Or maybe, that was exactly what Heeseung wanted.
He was so possessive of you, always giving death stares to anyone who dared to land their eyes on your bare legs or exposed chest from your skirts and tops; spoiling you rotten, literally buying you anything you wanted without even having to ask.
But you were not less, getting jealous of anyone who approached him, even scaring girls away. You were as crazy as him.
It wasn’t something you two addressed verbally, just a mutual feeling. Perhaps it was attraction or something more, neither of you wanted to label it.
Something you would really love to verbalise, though, was the way Heeseung had been playing his stupid game for two straight hours without even glancing back at you from his chair.
You were sitting on his bed, legs crossed together as you absentmindedly scrolled through your socials— but even that had become boring. You sighed heavily and dropped your phone on the mattress, stretching your sore limbs.
“Hee?” You asked but was only met back with the sound of keyboard taps and a few shouts so loud you could hear them from the earphones your best friend was wearing.
“Heeseung.” You said again, this time a little louder, “Mh?” He asked, still not turning around to even glance at your face.
“Stop playing and spend some time with me.” You nagged, brows knitting in an annoyed frown “Just ten more minutes.” He murmured back.
“Now.” You crossed your arms at your chest “Come on Y/N, I’m almost done, damn.”
You waited for him to say something more, however he just resumed the battle, occasionally hissing but never shouting at the screen, knowing how much it bothered you.
Your eyes landed on his arms, bare from the sleeveless shirt he was wearing, the veins showing every time he taped a new button, hands so perfect as if they were shaped from a goddess.
You gulped, unconsciously rubbing your thighs together. It wasn’t the first time you had such weird fantasies about Heeseung, it was no lie he was drop dead gorgeous, though sometimes you wished he’d see you as more.
The way he treated you, the way he scared anyone who ever dared to breathe your same air— it just fuelled your filthy and contorted desires. However, when he played his games he always seemed to forget about you— which frustrated you a lot.
You palmed your breasts through the fabric of the loose shirt, your nipples hardening and poking, their outline showing. Your gaze fell on his clenched jaw, wondering if he’d have the same face while fucking you, filling you up with his load.
Impatient, you reached for his pillow, the one he usually put his head to sleep on, the thought turning you on even more and sat down on it, your clothed core stroking against it. You moved your hips back and forth at a sweet rhythm, letting out soft hums when your clit rubbing made you feel a warm feeling in your stomach.
You closed your eyes, imagined you were riding Heeseung’s face, his pointed nose poking your clit while his warm tongue fucked your cunt, burying himself deeper in between your thighs.
“Seriously?” Your actions were abruptly stopped by a deep groan, your eyes shot open and there Heeseung was, manspreading on the chair now turned around to face you, his gaze so dark and piercing.
“Acting like a fucking needy slut?” He chuckled bitterly, “You know my mic was on, right? Everyone heard you moaning.” He tsked mockingly.
Your hips kept moving, your head threw back “Just wanted your attention.” Your hoarse voice went straight to his cock, hardening against his grey sweats.
He glanced at you, his stare piercing. You looked straight out of his night fantasies, the way you were grinding on his pillow, your sweet scent intoxicating it. He removed his earphones and palmed his clothed hard on.
“Keep going.” He ordered and you complied, your mind too cloudy to leave space for shake. After all, that was what you both wanted the most “Show me how you’d ride my cock, baby.”
The pet name made your stomach fill with butterflies, you gripped the pillow and moved almost manically on it, the sound of the bed squeaking filling the room.
“Did you want everyone to hear you?” He asked, still palming his cock “Mh? Did you want all my friends to hear your moans?”
You shook your head “No,” You breathed out, slowing your movements “Only you.”
“Fuck,” He cursed, his cock twitching in his boxers “Raise your shirt, let me see your tits.”
You let out a soft hum and did as he asked, raising your shirt, hooking it under your chin to squeeze your breasts and show it to him “So perfect,” He almost dropped at the sight, “And so mine.” He growled.
“Heeseung—“ You panted, your eyes half lidded “Hee… m’so close.” Your movements were sloppy, signalling that your orgasm was about to hit you.
“Don’t cum,” He ordered, “Don’t fucking cum, stop.” and you stopped, your eyes red from your denied orgasm.
His eyes softened, your fucked up state was too much for him, your sweaty forhead and panting breath— Hell, he was going to ruin you.
“Come here.” He patted his laps and you nodded, getting up from the bed, stumbling a little as you reached him. You sat down on his laps, his big hands securing your waist.
“Isn’t this better?” He asked, making your body grind on his clothed bulge, your wetness seeping through the fabric “Fuck baby— you’re so wet.”
You let out a shaky breath, your eyes closing when his lips connected to your neck, leaving wet kisses “Do you want me to fuck you?” He whispered.
“Yes,” you breathed out “Yes Hee, please.” He smirked at your pleads and raised you up, just enough to pull down his sweats and boxers. His cock sprung free, red and so hard.
You widened your eyes, you had always known he’d be thick since the shadow of his bulge always appeared when he worked out or went to swim, but you had never imagined it’d be that huge.
“Like what you see, mh?” Heeseung smirked, his hand sneaking on the back of your head to fist your hair, making you look up at him “Answer me.”
Wetness pooled on your panties at his rough and dominant voice, you nodded “Yes.”
“Good girl,” He let go of your hair and helped you out of your own pants, leaving you only in your loose shirt and underwear.
His breath hitched, biting his bottom lip “You’re so perfect,” He raised your shirt, hooking it on itself so you wouldn’t have to keep it in your hand.
Heeseung inched closer and took your tit in his mouth, sucking and biting on your nipple. You breathed heavily, one hand caressing the little hair he had on the back of his neck, nails almost digging in it.
He detached from your breast and kissed his way up to your neck, licking and nibbling. He reached your lips and took them into a hungry kiss, so passionate. You moaned when you felt his fingers hook your panties to the side, the cold air of the room hitting your core, making it clench around nothing.
“So eager to be fucked dumb.” Heeseung growled, guiding you on his cock. You put your hands on his broad shoulders as you slowly went down, the mushroom tip of his cock pressing against your wet folds.
You hissed when the tip entered your pussy, stretching you so good. You were no virgin, but no guy you ever had sex with was as big as Heeseung,
He held your waist tightly, helping you until you were all down, bottoming out. He cursed under his breath, your warm cunt hugging his shaft so perfectly he could almost cum right there “Shit baby- you feel so good.”
He started guiding you up and down on his cock, not really leaving you any place to do what you wanted, using you as if you were a sex doll. And you honestly lived for it “H-Hee… S’good.”
His big hands wrapped around your waist and you hid your face on the crook of his neck, moaning out his name. You could smell the scent of his cologne, clouding any thought in your mind along with the pleasure he was giving you.
“You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting to fuck you.” He groaned, lifting your ass cheeks, gripping them so he’d leave his marks on you “To just claim you, fill you up with my cum, breed you.” Heeseung rumbled absentmindedly “You’d look so good with my cum dripping out of you.”
His dirty talking only made you clench around him more, the stretch almost painful but too good you begged him to go faster. And how could he say no to you? He grabbed your ass cheeks and held you in place while his hips jerked up, thrusting inside of you.
Soft hums and moans filled the room, you grasped his shoulders and dug your nails in his flesh, trying to steady yourself.
“Pussy made for me.” He rumbled, rutting inside of you at a fast pace “You’re so mine, right?— Fuck— You’ll let someone else fuck you like I do?”
In your blissful state you managed to shake your head “Only you Hee,” You moaned out “I want only you.”
Heeseung rewarded you with a spank on your ass, the mark of his fingertips red on the cheek “Say it again.”
You cried out in pleasure, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten “Mph— Just want you to fuck me.”
“Good fucking girl,” He groaned, rutting into you, hitting your cervix with every thrust “Heeseung.” You gasped, your nails leaving painful marks on his skin but he did not mind at all. In fact, he hoped you’d leave marks on all his back. “I know,” Heeseung said “Let’s cum together, just a little more.”
You let out a small sob, your eyes watery from the amount of pleasure you felt all at once, his cock made to thrust inside your pussy. His arms hugged you tightly against his chest, one hand squeezing your ass cheek “Fuck, Fuck,” He pated, his eyes squeezing.
“Gonna cum too baby- Gonna fill you up so good.” He let out a husky groan as his load shot inside of you, coating your walls as you came around his cock. It twitched inside of you, so much cum filling you up until you felt so full.
Heeseung loosened his grip a little, enough to let you move freely as you laid back a little, you both panting heavily, sticky with sweat.
Heeseung looked down at where your bodies connected, some cum dripping down from your pussy to his laps. You could feel him harden again inside of you which made your eyes widen. Was it even possible to get hard that quickly? Heeseung let out a deep chuckle.
He got up from the chair with you still in his arms and laid you down on your back on his bed. You watched him through confused eyes-
Heeseung dried the wetness under your eyes and whispered in your ear “Let me have you once more..”
“But—“ You shook your head, your body was tired and still shaken from the orgasm “I’ll be quick.” He rubbed his nose on your cheek, his figure hovering on yours.
“M’tired..” You murmured, your eyes closing. But Heeseung only let out another dark chuckle “You’ll take it, yeah?” He started pounding inside you, slow but deep
“You’ll take it like the good girl you are.” It wasn’t a question, but an order.
And you were too down for him to neglect him.
#enhypen#enhypen smut#heeseung smut#lee heeseung smut#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#heeseung hard hours#lee heeseung hard hours#heeseung hard thoughts#lee heeseung hard thoughts#enhypen smuts#heeseung smuts#lee heeseung smuts
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Forever yearning for a jealous, dominant Luke Hughes. I mean spitting in your mouth, edging, mirror sex, etc. I need the filthy, down bad luke.
Scenario: maybe you’re becoming close with one of the other players (completely innocent-just forming a friendship) but Luke doesn’t see it as that way…
👉🏻👈🏻
warnings (in no particular order): spit(!!), jealousy, dom!luke, edging, mirror sex, one (1!) slap to the face just for the enjoyment of my friend jo, spanking, drinking (technically underage hiii luke turn 21 already stop being lame), beating yourself up, pet names and nicknames as FUCK (always bro do y’all even know me), road head, face fucking, unprotected p in v, dare i say breeding kink, implied subspace, allusion to size kink (probably established size kink to be fair), I THINK THAT’S IT BUT I’M NOT SURE!
pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader
summary: the one when luke gets jealous at the bar and doles out a bit of a punishment (code: luke is insecure about his performance on the ice, so when his gf starts talking with another teammate who is her friend, he gets jealous and feels like he has to prove himself by making her feel good, but he’s still a dom bc HOTTTT)
wc: 6416
The Devils’ last game of the season was at home this year. There was no chance that they would make the playoffs and Jack was out in Colorado for his shoulder surgery, plus Luke’s parents weren’t able to make it from Michigan for his final rookie game. He was depending on you to be there, so there you were. You were cheering, you were yelling at the officials when they missed a call, you were laughing at Luke when he took a trademarked Hughes spill on the ice with barely anyone around him. Yeah, you were disappointed at the end of the game when the Islanders won (and it wasn’t even close), but it was just one game. It wasn’t the end of the world. It was a disappointment, but it wasn’t life-changing.
Luke, however, was much more upset with their performance when you met up with him after the game. He drove the two of you to the bar where the team was meeting for one last celebration before the off-season and he tried, he really did, to keep his complaints inside. He was stewing, just letting it well up inside of him and fester in the silence between you, until it spilled over.
“It should have been a better game,” Luke finally said, the harsh edge in his tone rubbing you in all the wrong ways. “We could’ve done more. If I had just–”
“Lu, baby,” you interrupted, voice soft. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I was out there the longest, other than Jake,” Luke argued. “They depend on me and I let them down.”
“You were only on the ice for one goal, Lu. You couldn’t have done anything about at least the other three.”
Your statement was not something he wanted to hear. Your boyfriend, sweet as he was, always saw the best in everyone else and the worst in himself. Where he could have been blaming Brendan for the loss, since Brendan was on the ice for three of the four goals, he was instead blaming himself. He was never one to hold a grudge against his teammates or his friends or his family, which was part of the reason why you were so in love with him.
He grunted instead of giving you a real response, but you knew it was coming from a place of knowing you’re right but still feeling hurt.
“I love you,” you told him, just a reminder that his performance would never affect your affection towards him.
“I love you too,” Luke replied, and you two fell back into silence. It was less tense this time, but his shoulders were still tense and he was frowning, almost pouting. He was so pretty, even now, but you hated how this expression marred his face.
When you pulled up to the bar, you were met by Luke’s teammates. While some of the men had gone home after the game, it was mostly the ones who had families. You knew their wives and girlfriends would have encouraged them to go out with the team rather than stay home with the kids, but you understood. If Luke had wanted to go straight home after the game, you would’ve gone with him and cuddled him until you fell asleep.
“Do you want to get out and get me a drink, baby, while I find parking?” Luke asked, always so considerate.
“Yeah,” you agreed easily, leaning over the center console to peck his lips before you left the car.
Waiting outside the entrance of the bar, Nico and John smiled as you got out of the car and walked over to them. You hugged each of them before entering the bar, Nico walking in ahead of you and John following you with a hand on your back.
It didn’t mean anything to you or to John, but when Luke watched John guide you into the bar before he drove away to search for a parking spot, something sharp and green poked at his heart.
Luke finally made his way into the bar about ten minutes after you walked in, and your face had lit up when you saw him like it had been much longer. He didn’t see you at first, so you had the chance to watch him scan the room. His brow was furrowed as he scanned each person’s features. You knew that he was trying to spot you without looking for the other boys at first, but it was proving difficult with how crowded the room had become.
Timo appeared at his side and patted Luke’s shoulder in greeting. Luke talked to him for a minute before Timo pointed your way. Luke’s face split with a smile when he saw you and he gave Timo a pat before beelining towards you.
You looped your arms around Luke’s neck when he joined you, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him.
“Gross,” Nico complained from next to you. “It’s only been a few minutes since you’ve seen each other.”
“You’re not in love,” Luke replied, snarky and sarcastic like he tended to be when it wasn’t just the two of you. He then turned to you. “Where’s my drink?”
“What a priority,” you teased, rolling your eyes at him. He pinched your side. “I sent Johnny to go get it.”
Luke’s expression changed for a split second before he schooled his features. You wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t so in tune with his emotions, experience that comes only after years of dating a person.
You let it go, knowing that it can’t be too important, or Luke would have said something. He knew you were friends with guys on the team. After being around them for almost a year, having moved out here with Luke at the start of his rookie year, it was bound to happen. Plus, Luke wasn’t the jealous type. He knew that you loved him and you’d love him forever, saying yes in a second if he chose to propose.
But to him, there was something about the way you said “Johnny” instead of John. It was that and John’s hand on your back as he guided you into the bar, on top of an already hard night, that had Luke questioning himself.
“I asked him to get you a rum and coke,” you said, tilting your head up to poke Luke’s nose with your own. “Is that okay?”
“It sounds good, thank you,” Luke replied.
You resume conversation with Nico, turning to face him but staying tucked into Luke’s side. He had a hand on your hip and the other accepted the drink that John handed Luke when he returned. He nursed it quietly for a while, engaging in conversation here and there, but mostly just enjoying his time with his friends.
The game was the last time that his whole team would be together like that, but this night out was the last time that his team, his friends, would be together in the way that mattered. Even if no one was traded, if no one changed in the slightest (except Jack, coming back from injury), things still wouldn’t be quite the same. It wouldn’t be his second year, his presence wouldn’t be new or exciting. He would have to try harder, do better, and be consistent to show that he wasn’t just an example of beginner’s luck.
He clutched you a little tighter to his side at that thought. He was comforted by the way that you melted into him, moving to lean back against his chest. Your hand covered his and the other polished off your drink. He took the empty cup from you and kissed your cheek before pulling away to toss your cup, and his, in the trash can behind him.
When he returned, he was taken aback by the sight before him.
You had stepped forward and were carding your fingers through John’s curls and Luke saw red before he saw the thoughtful look on your face. John had just said to you and Nico that he thought his hair was getting too long, too unruly. You didn’t agree– it was a good length, the curls were just settling into their shapes.
“I don’t think you should cut it, John,” you were saying before Luke grabbed your other wrist and yanked you towards him. “Luke!” You exclaimed, startled by the movement.
“Time to go,” Luke announced, loud enough that the other boys could hear. He clutched your wrist, not your hand, your wrist, and pulled you along as he stomped toward the exit.
“Luke, what is going on?” You asked, voice resounding in your ears like it’s much louder than it actually is.
Luke kept walking like he didn’t even hear you, pushing through the door and leading you down the block to the car. He opened your door for you and helped you in, but he slammed it shut once you were buckled into your seat. He rounded the car and opened his own door, glaring at you in a passing glance before settling into the driver’s seat.
“Lu,” you implored, pressing your hands against the top of your thighs.
When he didn’t reply, you tried again.
“Babe, talk to me–”
“I don’t want you to speak unless you’re spoken to,” Luke said. He refused to look at you. “You think you can touch John’s hair the way you touch mine? You’ll let him guide you into the bar the way I would? I’m not enough for you, huh, baby?”
You blinked, suddenly shifting up to sit a little straighter. Luke, your sweet angel Luke, the baby of his family who would never hurt a fly, who avoided hockey fights at every cost, had flipped his switch.
“Answer me. I asked you a question.”
“No, sir,” you said. Your eyes flickered down to where Luke’s knuckles were white with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. You inhaled sharply as you made eye contact with the veins decorating the back of his hand.
“No?” Luke repeated, mocking. “I’m not enough for you?”
“No! Lu, you’re more than enough, you know you’re the only one I need.” Your words came out scrambled and you tripped over them.
Luke clicked his tongue, disapproval written all over his face. “Can’t even speak, can you?” He scoffed, reached down with one hand, and popped the button on his jeans. “Let’s put your mouth to a better use until you can find your words.”
“You’re driving,” you pointed out, casting a worried look at the road ahead of you.
“It wasn’t a question,” Luke threw you a glance. He looked back at the road, then back to you, this time holding your gaze. He cocked his head to the side, eyes softening for a moment. “Was it?”
“No,” you breathed out.
“Good girl.” A smile spread over Luke’s face and he turned back to the road. “Get to it.”
You clenched your thighs together and unbuckled your seatbelt so you could twist towards Luke and lean over the center console. You reached out to unzip his pants, but he knocked your hands away.
“I didn’t say use your hand. I said,” he paused, grabbing your hair and tilting your head up so your eyes met his, “Use your mouth.”
The noise that escaped you was involuntary. You moved forward that extra inch and carefully took Luke’s zipper in your mouth, dragging it down. His boxers were revealed by the action, but that was the extent of it.
“Come on,” Luke encouraged, growing impatient. What you couldn’t see from your position was the smug tilt of his mouth, knowing there was no way to get his cock out of his pants with just your mouth. “Take it out.”
“Can’t,” you whimpered.
“Oh, you can’t?” Luke mocked, feigning sympathy. “Poor baby needs my help, yeah?”
You nodded and hummed an agreement.
Luke’s grip tightened on your hair and he gave it a sharp tug. “Use your manners.”
“Please, Lu, help me,” you conceded.
“Help you what?”
“Help me take your cock out so I can suck you, please, sir.” Your voice was close to breaking, you were itching to get your mouth on him and make him feel good.
Luke obliged, revealing himself to you. You opened your mouth and he pumped himself twice just to tease you before slapping the lip of his cock on the flat of your tongue. He fed you his cock, returning his hand to your hair when you had taken as much of his length in your mouth as you could. He gathered your hair into a messy ponytail with his one hand, the other still on the wheel, and began to guide your head up and down.
You gagged when he guided you to his base, nose touching the fabric of his boxers around his cock, but the groan he let out made the discomfort worth it. It was low and desperate, just pure relief.
“Wanna fuck your mouth,” Luke breathed out, pulling you up so just the tip of his cock remained in your mouth.
You hollowed your cheeks and sucked, swiping your tongue over his slit and relishing in the taste of his precum in your mouth.
He moaned aloud, the sound seeming to echo throughout the car. You could feel your heartbeat in your fingertips. You let out a sigh, suddenly overwhelmed with contentment for your situation. Luke was perfect. He was the perfect boyfriend, whether he was his soft and cuddly self or this dominant version of him that wasn’t afraid to tell you what to do, to communicate what he wanted.
“Would if I weren’t driving, too,” Luke mumbled, mostly to himself. “Fuck, baby, make me come. You know how.”
Luke returned both hands to the steering wheel and allowed you to move your head freely, to go at your own pace. You bobbed your head with enthusiasm, spit dripping down his shaft and soaking the fabric around him. You gagged at times, but the tight squeeze of your throat around him just added to Luke’s pleasure. He wasn’t shy about telling you how good you felt, either, making you more determined to make him come.
“Fuck, pull off,” Luke said, his voice a little shaky.
You couldn’t. You couldn’t, not when he was so close. The idea of having his come in your mouth, on your tongue, the manifestation of how you made him feel, was too alluring.
“Y/N, pull off,” Luke commanded, reaching down to yank you off of him by your hair. He clenched his jaw as he held you just far enough off his cock that you thought, with just one bump in the road, you could capture it again. He steered out of the lane and parked on the side of the road. “You don’t want to listen? You’re so cockdumb that you can’t follow my orders?”
All you could do was look at him, eyes wide.
He spoke through his teeth, never once blinking or breaking eye contact. “Since you want me inside you so bad, I’m gonna fuck your mouth until I come. You’re gonna take it. Even if you gag, even if you cry, I’m not going to stop until I come. Then, you’re going to sit back and buckle yourself in and I’m going to finish driving us home. You will not swallow. You’re going to hold my come in your mouth until I say so. Do you understand?”
Your jaw dropped at the words, the tips of your ears growing hot. “Yes, sir.” It’s nearly inaudible and you can feel your panties growing damper with just the thought of it– minute after minute ticking by, Luke’s come coating your tongue, not being able to speak or swallow. You’re completely under Luke’s control.
He leaned back in the seat and motioned toward his cock.
You allowed him to guide you onto his length again, getting comfortable with its size. You hollowed your cheeks and looked up at him, pausing your movements and staying statue-still.
A smirk took over Luke’s face. “That’s my girl.”
He took your head with both hands, keeping your hair out of your face and keeping you from moving an inch, and began to thrust into your mouth. It was sharp and hard and you tried to create a vacuum-type suction around his cock, as tight as you knew he liked it, but it was hard with the head of his dick hitting the back of your throat with every buck of his hips. You ended up gagging, and crying, and drooling all over his cock, just like Luke had said, and he fulfilled his promise that he wouldn’t stop.
“Look at you, making such a mess of yourself,” Luke scoffed. “Such a mess all over my cock, just to make me feel good. You’d let me do whatever I wanted, wouldn’t you, baby? You’d never let anyone else take you like this, just me, yeah? No one else gets to see you just leaking all over my cock because you’re mine.”
Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at that and the moan you released around Luke’s length caused his hips to stutter, made him unable to hold back his orgasm any longer. He came in stripes all over your tongue, some of it leaking down the back of your throat before you could stop it. He pulled you off of him and crashed his lips against yours, a close-mouthed kiss because you wouldn’t dare disobey, couldn’t handle the idea of disappointing Luke.
“My good girl,” Luke cooed when he pulled away.
You offered him a lazy smile, head foggy and bones mushy. You were sated, an elevated version of just happy, and so, so comfortable. You loved him. He was everything.
“I’m not done with you yet, am I?” Luke asked softly, thumbing over your bottom lip.
You shook your head.
“Open,” Luke said. “I want to see my come on your tongue.”
You hesitantly opened your mouth, pushing your tongue out so he could see the milky white substance coating the muscle.
Luke captured your cheeks with one hand and leaned in with the other holding your head in place. You stared at his eyes, which were watching your tongue as a line of his saliva mixed with the come in your mouth. When his eyes rose to meet yours, it was the embers of desire that made your head roll back and the instinct, the pure instinct of having something in your mouth, that caused you to swallow.
Your head snapped forward, eyes wide and not doe-eyed, not purposefully innocent to make Luke’s heart jump. No, your eyes were wide with worry because you disobeyed him. It wasn’t something you did to spite him or push him further over the line.
“I’m sorry.” The words leaked from your mouth and you scrambled to take Luke’s hand in yours, clutching his right with both of yours. “Luke, it was an accident, you know I’d never–”
His mouth was open in shock, briefly, before it snapped shut and his eyes twinkled with something downright predatory. His hand was limp in yours (though not pulling away) and he was still.
“But you did,” He interrupted. “You did.”
“I didn’t mean to.” You were trying to reason with him, but you knew the damage was done. Whatever he had planned for you when you got back to the house, it was going to be ten times worse now.
Luke just shook his head and removed his hand from your grasp, pulling back onto the highway and resuming the drive home. You weren’t far, the area around you looking more and more familiar with each passing second. The minutes stretched for what seemed like hours with Luke’s silence. You held your own hand nervously, pinching at the skin of you knuckles and avoiding Luke’s face. You couldn’t handle seeing the disappointment etched into his features.
Luke pulled into the garage of the apartment complex after just about five minutes. Suddenly, it hits you– you have the apartment all to yourselves tonight. There’s nothing to stop Luke, or you for that matter, from being as loud or as public as he wants. There’s a window in the living room, one that Luke mentioned after your last session. A spark traveled up your spine when you realize that tonight might be the night that he fucks you out in the open, for anyone to see.
When he shifted the car into park, Luke turned to you expectantly.
You apologized again, softly, once he looked at you.
His features softened then, seeing your apprehension. He reached out and took your hand. “Are you okay?”
“I feel bad that I didn’t listen,” you replied. Your eyes fell on your shoelaces, which were an off-white color after plenty of use. You made a note to yourself that maybe you should wash them soon. You wondered if they’d return to their original color. The shoes were much more interesting than looking up at Luke and meeting his eyes.
He tilted your head upward with a guided hand anyway. “You’re still my good girl,” he reassured. “Are you okay to keep going? Or do you want me to stop? I won’t be mad. Whatever you want, we can do it. We can leave this in the car and I can take care of you, baby.”
You could cry at his words, how great he is about your slip-up. You did want him to be sweet, but you knew that he needed this. He needed to work through whatever was going on in his mind and if he could just be in control of this, just for a little while longer, it would be so much easier for him later.
“I want to keep going,” you admitted.
“You know your word?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Tell me?”
“Flower.”
“That’s right, baby.” Luke pecked your lips, but when he pulled back he was back to business. “Now, are you ready to listen to me?”
You nodded, eyes trained on his. Neither of you blinked, a silent contest that he ended up losing (something that would normally cause you to gloat, but now doesn’t seem like the right time).
“When you get to the apartment, you’re going to strip. You’re going to sit on the edge of our bed. You’re going to touch yourself while you wait for me and I want you to watch yourself in the mirror. If you come, and you know I’ll know if you do, you’re not going to come at all tonight. I want you to bring yourself right to the edge and stay there. Can you do that for me?” He spoke slowly and clearly, his voice gravely and dominant. He didn’t stumble over his words or pause and “um” like he did in interviews. No, this was when Luke was at his surest. This was when he knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say.
“I can do that,” you agreed, unbuckling your seatbelt and gathering your things.
“I’m going to give you a five minute head start.”
You nodded at Luke, opened your door, and left the vehicle. When you got up to the apartment, you didn’t bother to hang your coat or purse on the hooks Luke put up just for you. You didn’t put your shoes neatly like the door like you normally did. Instead, you dropped your belongings and kicked the shoes off one by one on your walk to the bedroom. You shed your clothing in a similar manner, leaving a trail behind for Luke to chuckle at when he walked in the door.
Fully naked, you stared at yourself in the mirror that faced your bed. You read once that it was bad luck to have a mirror face a bed, that your reflection could like… capture your soul, or something, but you kept the mirror there anyway because if there was anything Luke enjoyed, it was seeing himself fuck you in the mirror. He liked to watch you ride him in reverse cowgirl, so he could see your ass jiggle as you bounced on his cock with his own eyes and your whole body in the reflection.
Sometimes, his hands would drift up and he would hold your tits, watching how he could envelop them in his palms. You tilt your head to the side, watching your own hands slide up your body to do the same.
For everything you could imagine Luke doing, there your hands were trying to satisfy yourself. If you closed your eyes, you could convince yourself that it was him instead.
His cock would disappear into your pussy, thrusting in and out and causing you to whine. His fingers would circle your clit or pinch your nipples. He would palm your ass, or reach up to wrap his hand around your neck. He would reach just that spot…
You didn’t ever hear it when Luke opened the door and joined you in the room. He thought you knew he was coming, with the way you were whining his name and begging for him. Your eyes snapped open as he closed the door behind him and you quickly pulled your fingers out from inside of you.
Luke walked over to you and sank onto his knees between your legs. “Gimme a taste, love.”
You offered him your fingers, which he took into his mouth. He sucked on them softly for far too short a time, in your opinion, with the way his cheekbones became more prominent as he cleaned your fingers of your wetness.
“Tastes good,” he told you with a smile when he was finished.
“Thank you,” you replied, practically a whimper. Your chest felt tight, like someone was squeezing your heart in your chest. You were waiting, just waiting, for Luke to tell you what was next.
He rose to sit on the bed next to you, guiding you to shift over so you were sitting on his lap. “I’m going to spank you,” he whispered against your lips. “Just ten times. That’s all. It’ll go fast, but I’m not going to go easy on you. I know you can take it.” Luke kissed you again, snuck his tongue into your mouth for a quick, far too quick pass, before pulling back. “Turn over, baby, and lean over my knee, yeah?”
Your movements were slow, your brain turning foggy again like it was in the car. Luke helped you over his knee, still clothed. The contrast between how clothed he was and how naked you were almost made you drool. It was nearly embarrassing, being this down bad for Luke when he seemed to be completely fine, unaffected.
Luke snapped you out of your thoughts with a spank. The pain was only there for a split second before Luke was rubbing soothing circles over your skin. You shivered when he dipped his hand lower and trailed a finger through your folds.
“So wet,” he murmured.
You clenched down and he pulled away, only to deliver a second slap to your cheek. You shivered, goosebumps rising over your arms.
“So, baby, tell me,” Luke began, bringing down his hand again. “Why am I spanking you?”
He waited for you to answer before bringing his hand down again. “Because I swallowed– oh– when you told me not to.”
“Mhm. Why else?”
Another spank. Now, it was starting to sting. Your ass had turned a pretty shade of pink that caused Luke to bite his lip and run his hands over your skin, feeling the heat radiate off the surface.
You were quiet. You weren’t quite sure. Holding his come in your mouth had been the punishment for not pulling off when he told you to. You had been slow to say please in the car, but that wasn’t ever something Luke would punish you for, just something he’d remind you to do. “For, um…” You trailed off, not sure what to say.
Luke scoffed and spanked you three times, harsh enough that his handprint stayed imprinted on your body for longer than it normally did when he spanked you. You cried out, your head dropping and tears welling up in your eyes.
“‘For, um,’” he mocked. “You don’t know? You’re that fucking dumb that you can’t remember what happened less than an hour ago?”
“Lu, please,” were the words that escaped your mouth instead of an answer to his question. They were teary and he almost stopped, almost, just because of how your voice shook.
“Please what?” He spat, another slap echoing throughout the room.
“I don’t know,” You sobbed. “I don’t know why you’re mad at me.”
“Five more,” Luke warned you and you nodded.
It took a lot out of you, agreeing for five more, but Luke wouldn’t do anything he didn’t think you could handle.
“How about this, baby?” Luke said. Slap. “For touching John’s hair the same way you touch mine?” Slap. “For letting the boys guide you into the restaurant like you’re their girlfriend, not mine.” Slap. “For sending John off to get me a drink when I told you to do so?” Slap. “For not listening?” Slap. “For being a fucking brat?”
You wailed, slumped against Luke. He got a good look at you in the mirror, boneless over his knee. He took in the red skin of your ass, tracing the line of his raised handprint.
“You’re mine,” Luke continued, sounding off. You turned your head towards the mirror, eyes hazy but still able to make him out. He was waiting for you to look at him, for your eyes to meet his. “You can’t– you can’t treat him like he’s special.”
And suddenly, it all clicked. Luke was jealous because he was scared of the same thing you’d skated around in your conversation right after the game. Luke wanted to be special, wanted you to see him and need him. He needed you to need him, to let him take control and take care of you and decide things for you, all because he didn’t want to be the person who lost everything because he wasn’t good enough. Even the idea that John could possibly take Luke’s place, as preposterous as it was to you, sent Luke into a spiral.
“Fuck me, Luke,” you said, voice shaky and light because of the headspace you were in. “Take me. I’m yours. Prove it.”
Gently, so gently in contrast to his prior actions, Luke helped you up and lay you down on your back on the bed, placing a pillow under your hips. You lay there for a few minutes, blinking slowly and watching as Luke shed his clothes and rummaged through his dresser drawers for something. His back was to you and you smiled to yourself, too fucked out to let out a giggle, at his backside. When Luke turned around, two of his gameday ties in hand, he cocked his head to the side at your smile.
“What are you smiling about?” He asked.
“Boy butts are so funny,” You answered. “They’re just so small. Like… where are your hips, Lu?”
Luke blinked a few times, then shook his head. “Oh my God, you’ve lost it.”
“I’ve been thinking it. We need to get you in the gym.”
“You’re being a brat.”
“And your butt is small.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Luke scoffed. He had walked to the bed and was tying one of your hands to his headboard.
“I’m waiting.”
Luke huffed out a laugh at your response. “You’re making it hard to dom you, baby.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, was the road head not enough?”
Luke shushed you, moving to your other hand and tying that one with the other tie.
“What about the spitting in my mouth and spanking me?” You continue, goading him.
Luke crawled up your body, kissing up your stomach and chest and neck as he went.
One more sentence, and he wouldn’t find it so difficult to dominate you for this final stretch.
He’s hovering over your lips, his breath fanning out over them.
“I bet Johnny could do it better.”
Luke pulled back, jaw dropped. His mouth returned to a strait line and his eyes turned murderous. There it was, there’s the dominance that he thought he lost.
You smirked at him, proud of yourself for the comment you made, until Luke’s palm made contact with your cheek. Your head turned with the impact and you swore your heart stopped. You were too surprised to say anything. As the seconds of silence passed where you and Luke just stared at each other, same shocked expression on your face, you realized: huh. That’s not so different from when he spanks me.
Then, another second after that: That was kind of… hot.
“Are you okay?” Luke breathed out. He’s practically frozen in place.
“Yeah,” you replied. “Oh my God, Luke, yeah.” You pulled on the restraints above you, itching to get him inside of you. You circled your legs around his waist and raised your hips, trying to make contact with him. “Fuck, Lu, that was so hot, please fuck me.”
Luke blinked twice and searched your face for any discomfort, anything that would show him that you were upset or hurt by his slap. He hadn’t even done it intentionally, just driven by the pure rage of you mentioning John, saying that John could be better for you than Luke was.
It wasn’t until your wiggling hips caused his cock to make contact with your weeping pussy that he began to move.
He started by pinning your hips down.
“Greedy,” he chastised.
“I need you in me, don’t treat me like I’m made of glass,” you whined.
Luke positioned himself at your entrance and snapped his hips forward, burying himself inside you in one fell swoop.
It knocked all the breath out of you. Even after dating Luke for ages, his size still surprised you.
“How’s that, huh? Can you feel me? Do you think I’m treating you gently?” Luke asked, grinding his teeth as he fucked in and out of you. His skin was slapping against yours and he moved one of our legs so your knee was thrown over his shoulder. “You think Marino could fuck you like this?” He practically spat out John’s name, disgust coating each syllable.
“Probably,” you quipped, your voice snarky. You were itching for Luke to slap you again, or something, because he wasn’t giving it everything. He was still shaken up by the fact that he hit you at all.
“‘Probably,’” He repeated, incredulous. “You’ll never know, will you, baby?” He snaps his hips harder, faster. “This is my pussy. It only gets wet for me, you only spread your legs for me, you can be a slut all you want but only in the confines of these four walls. You can be bad, only right here… where I’m able to fuck. it. out. of you.”
You moan, wanton and long in the back of your throat. Your hands are aching to grab his hair, to twist the curls between your fingers. “Lu, my hand,” you told him.
“What about it?” He asked, not slowing his pace.
“Untie it, please!”
Luke looked down at you, confused. “Why?”
You whined, keening as your back arched and you squeezed his cock. “Need to get a hand on you, Lu, fuck. Wanna pull your hair. So pretty, so much prettier than John’s.”
“Oh,” he whispered, his stomach turning. He reached up to undo the knot, trying to continue to fuck you and untie it at the same time. When your hand came free, it immediately found purchase in his curls. Your fingernails scraped his scalp and his eyes rolled in the back of his head as he bucked into you with uncoordinated thrusts. “Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned. “Gonna make me come.”
“Please,” you begged. “Inside me, inside me–”
Your vision went white and your pussy was like a vice around him as you came.
“Yeah, yeah,” Luke agreed, voice strained. He watched the bliss wash over your features and whined. “Fuck you til you’re full, show everyone you’re all mine.”
It’s the thought of pumping his seed into you, making you round with his child, that sends Luke over the edge. No one would think to take you from him then, not that you’d ever go. No one would ever be able to call you theirs like he could call you his, not when he’s fucked you full, not when you’re carrying his baby.
“So perfect for me,” Luke mumbled in your ear, collapsing on top of you as he came down from his orgasm.
“Just for you, Lu.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.” You paused, rubbing his back. “You know we have to talk about this, right? You’re more than enough and I don’t want you to feel insecure anymore.”
Luke pulled himself out of you, wincing at the sensitivity. “Can we talk about it tomorrow? I think we could both use some rest.”
He got up from the bed and walked into his bathroom, grabbing a towel and coming back to wipe you clean.
“Can it wait that long?” You fixed him with a look of concern.
“Baby.” Luke cut his eyes at you, then finished wiping you down. “It can wait until tomorrow.”
You shrugged. “Okay,” you agreed, then made yourself comfortable, pulling the covers over your body. You turned over, back to Luke, and spoke like it was an afterthought. “I loved it when you slapped me, you know.”
Luke groaned, leaned over to give you a kiss on your cheek. “I’m sorry I was mean.”
“Mmm, mean Luke gets me hot just like sweet Luke,” you replied. You turned your head and kissed his lips. “I like sweet Luke more, though. Sweet Luke cuddles me while I’m asleep.”
Luke laughed, going to toss the dirty towel in the dirty clothes hamper. “Sweet Luke will be back to cuddle you after he brushes his teeth,” he said.
When he returned, your breath was even and you had already fallen asleep, the ghost of a smile still gracing your lips. Luke bit his tongue, joined you under the covers, and threw his arm over the curve of your waist. Within just a few minutes, he was fast asleep next to you, softly snoring with his nose pressed into your hair.
notes: so, I, uh..... got a little carried away. I just kept having ideas. And I hope it worked out for me, to be fair. Hiiiiiii anon I hope this was good for youuuu love you bigggg I felt so awky-tawky writing some of this because as much as I would looooove a man to treat me like this, it feels so silly to write. Anyway. Loving y'all.
SEND MORE REQUESTS! I'LL GET TO THEM EVENTUALLY (they might not all be this long LOLLL)
#puck-luck's fics#luke hughes#luke hughes smut#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes x y/n#nhl smut#nhl x reader#nhl fic#nhl fanfiction#lh43#andy writes anything🍄
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Make Me Your Masterpiece
Summary: Bob credits you for helping him to find his new hobby. And when he asks if he can you paint you, you find you quite like the idea of being his muse.
Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female Reader
Length: 4.5K
Warnings: fluff, smut, and basically an ode to Lewis Pullman’s hands (mdni)
(Author’s Note: smutty fics are the new friendship bracelet, spread the word! Happy Birthday, Ames! 🎉 @laracrofted)
You’ve always had a thing for Bob’s hands.
They were one of the first things you noticed about him that day at the coffee shop almost a year ago now.
You’d been reaching for your iced vanilla cinnamon latte when a big hand had wrapped around it just a half of a second before you could grab it. Which you wouldn’t have minded admiring them for a moment under any other circumstances, but after an endless string of meetings you’d been in a dire need of a caffeine fix- and not the weak stuff that people brewed in your office’s communal coffee pot.
“I think that’s-” you’d started.
“Oh, I’m sorry-” the coffee thief backpedaled.
The next thing you knew you were looking into the prettiest pair of ocean blue eyes.
The two of you were startled out of the moment when the barista called out the next order as they’d set it on the counter.
By some kismet or fate, they had been a matching set. But instead of embroidered towels, it was his and hers coffee cups with your names written on them in a hasty scrawl.
Realization dawned over his features as he gave you a sheepish smile, “Think this one might belong to you, Miss.” He spun the coffee until he found the spot with your name. That little smile becoming a full grin as he’d said it aloud before passing the cup to you.
The hands had been good, the eyes had been great, but Bob’s smile directed at you had left you weak in the knees.
You’d been a goner right then and there.
And while you’d ended up almost ten minutes late to your next meeting, you’d also gone back to the office with his phone number written on a cardboard coffee sleeve that was tucked away safely in your purse and a date lined up later that week.
As it turned out fate had a name and it was Robert Floyd.
Barely twenty minutes into your first official date with Bob, his ears had turned a delightful shade of pink as his anxious fingers straightened the silverware on the white linen tablecloth of the Italian spot he’d taken you to. He’d fessed up and apologized as he came clean, telling you that he’d purposefully ordered the same coffee as you in hopes of getting to start up a conversation with the pretty girl who’d been standing in front of him in line.
“I didn’t want to interrupt you, since you looked busy. But I didn’t want to miss my chance,” he’d confessed over candlelight.
He’d told you how he’d only been at the coffee shop because he’d recently returned from a deployment and was fighting the jetlag that came with adjusting to being back on Pacific Standard Time, and that he normally preferred tea but he needed something with a bit more to it to get him through the day.
Instead of getting up and taking the bottle of wine to-go as a consolation prize, like you would have if it had been anyone else, his genuine earnestness had charmed you instantly. And you’d settled on having a second date with him before the first one had even really started.
You only let him sweat it for about thirty seconds before you took pity on him. With a light fingertip, you traced along one of the veins on the back of his hand and simply asked, “So other than being a meet cute mastermind, what is it that you do for a living, Bob?”
It was the best first date you’d ever had.
For your second date with him, you’d bought tickets to a ‘Paint and Sip’ event at a buzzy new bistro in town your friend had told you about.
You weren’t an artist by any means, but during that dinner date his antsy fingers and expressive hands had clued you into how nervous he’d been. You’d found your eyes drifting to them on more than one occasion. Partly because they were so enticingly disproportionate to the rest of him, but also because you couldn’t look him directly in the eye for too long without feeling your face heating up.
You thought it would be a good way for the both of you to work past the getting-to-know-you jitters, something that would keep your hands and eyes occupied enough to relax a bit more and have fun together.
Although instead of the seascape class you’d thought you’d signed up for, you’d willingly paid $86+ tax to watch Bob’s lithe, long fingers delicately grip a paintbrush in a way you thought was going to make you lose your mind.
You’d spent the whole first hour trying and failing to mix the perfect shade of blue before giving up when you’d realized that the man next to you, in addition to having really great hands, was also very good at painting.
Bob had seemed surprised by that too because he’d kept flushing that wonderful shade of pink that had quickly become your new favorite color every time you complimented his piece.
He had steady, capable hands. But you were quickly learning that everything about Bob Floyd seemed that way. There was a quiet confidence about him. He didn’t shy away from the way he’d openly observed you, like you were a riddle he was enjoying learning to decode.
You’d never known a man to be so attentive until him.
Bob’s tongue was peeking out as he’d worked on adding some wispy clouds to the top of his piece. You weren’t even sure what step you’d technically stopped at before you’d given up to watch the visual feast of him painting instead. Only halfheartedly adding random bits to your canvas along the way to make sure it wasn’t totally blank by the end of the session.
You’d been so zoned out watching him create that it was like a slow-motion sequence in a horror movie. You’d reached out for your wine glass, lifting it to your lips to take a sip, it had only taken you a split second to realize it wasn’t the full-bodied red you’d ordered that was coating your tongue, but the murky, gritty paint water instead.
Mortified, you’d looked over just in time to see Bob’s empathetic wince. You’d been hoping to fly under the radar, but it had turned out that you’d had more than one set of eyes on you.
“And we officially have our first casualty of the evening, folks,” the instructor cheerily announced to the group, “The rest of you can breathe easy now!”
You wanted to be able to laugh at your own expense, but you’d groaned as you buried your face in your hands.
It was not the way you saw the night going. You wanted to be dazzling, you wanted that pivotal third date with him. But now you were the girl who drank paint water whose canvas looked like it had all the same efforts as an enthusiastic fourth grader.
Bob’s hands had gently wrapped around your wrists before he’d pulled them from your face. And then he’d leaned in close, taking your chin in his hand and kissed you squarely on the lips, his tongue dipping in and sliding against yours to taste the acrylic pigment from your surprised mouth.
“Huh,” he’d said, contemplatively. He’d pulled away only far enough to look into your eyes and give you a soft smile. “Celadon blue doesn’t taste like a Cabernet, go figure.”
He brushed a light kiss against your cheek as he’d passed you your wine glass so that you could rinse the paint water taste out of your mouth.
You couldn’t help but to still be a little embarrassed, but then you’d caught the way he’d shoot an unimpressed look at the instructor every time they passed by for the rest of the evening. You didn’t need a knight in shining armor when you had a Bob Floyd with a paintbrush and a cutting side eye.
You took him home with you that night and learned for yourself just how capable those hands of his were.
It was only later that you realized the exact shade of blue that you’d been trying so hard to capture earlier that night was the same color as the eyes that gazed down at you as Bob fucked you for the very first time.
There was no way you could have known that the ‘Paint and Sip’ date would have inspired him to pick up painting as a hobby.
First, he’d started taking classes at the Rec Center. His once a week classes later turned into him checking out books from the library. And then he’d turned his spare bedroom into a studio, as it has the best afternoon light in the Spanish style house he rents near the Naval base. He’d even bought a comfy chair for you to curl up in as he painted, a little nook of your own in his favorite space in his home. And steadily, the walls of both your apartment and his place fill up with all of his creations.
You’d even had your favorite one professionally framed. The pretty landscape done in shades of soft greens that he gave to you for your birthday hangs in a place of honor above your bed. You like having that piece of Bob as one of the last things you see before you fall asleep and one of the first things you see in the morning on the rare occasion the two of you aren’t sharing a bed. You liked to imagine the hours he spent on it with the sunlight streaming through the open window as he lovingly and painstakingly created something just for you with his own two hands.
Although you did have to beg him to sign it for you. He claimed that since he does it for fun that there’s really no reason too, but you were adamant about it and he’d eventually caved and scrawled his name in the lower right-hand corner.
Now it’s become your personal mission to ensure that every Bob Floyd original has his signature on it when he gives his paintings out as gifts.
Everyone assumes that his art would be all straight lines and precise angles, but it’s your favorite moment when people get to see his abstract landscapes. He’d told you he spends so much time in the sky that he likes to paint what’s on the ground, the things he doesn’t get to see when he’s 50,000 feet in the air.
You could tell Bob was a little nervous when he first asked to paint you.
After almost a year with him, you’d think he’d know by now that you’d do anything for him. Not to mention, you were more than a little in love with the idea of being his muse.
“Are you saying you want to paint me like one of your French girls?” you’d teased with a grin, unable to resist the opportunity. You always did have a thing for men with perfectly floppy hair.
He’d tipped your chin up so that you were looking into his blue eyes- a color you were positive couldn’t be replicated- and stated, “No, I want to paint you like my girl.”
Which is how you’ve ended up naked on the floor of his living room.
You’d been surprised when you came downstairs to see that the furniture had all been pushed to the side to make space for the king-sized top sheet he’d laid out on the floor. You figured it must have been from some mismatched set he had stashed in his linen closet because you’d never seen it before and you spent more than enough time in his bed getting familiar with his sheets.
Bob was shirtless and wearing only a pair of loose-fitting and paint stained jeans that were hanging low on his hips as he worked on getting all of his brushes and paints set up.
You were pretty sure that Michelangelo himself wouldn’t be able to do proper justice to Bob’s body. He wasn’t as built as some of his friends on the Dagger Squad were, but there was an undeniable sturdy steadfastness to him. Those defined shoulders and arms often were the stars of your afternoon daydreams, since you got to admire his handsome face anytime your phone lit up.
He came and met you at the bottom of the stairs, giving you a low whistle, “Well, aren’t you as pretty as a picture in my shirt.”
“Oh,” you’d said, feigning surprise and toying with the hem, “So it is.” And then you’d slowly lifted it up and off of you, revealing more of your body to his artist’s eye.
You never felt as good about yourself as you did when you were naked in front of Bob. The color of his morning skies eyes would always darken to a deep shade of Prussian blue as he took in the curves of you. With him you always felt appreciated, wanted, desired.
His greedy hands came to grip your hips pulling you to him until you were pressed against him.
“Is this how you wanted me?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair.
Bob slipped his hand behind your neck and tugged you in for a heated kiss. “I always want you.”
You never knew true distraction until you’d felt Bob’s lips against yours all those months ago. You’d happily lose minutes, hours, days to them. The thing about Bob is that he never does anything halfway. If he’s kissing you, he’s doing it thoroughly until you’re out of breath.
The sound of the air conditioner kicking on and the light draft that it coasted over you reminded you that there were other plans on the agenda. And that the sooner he starts, then the sooner he finishes, and the sooner you can feel his lips on other parts of you.
“Where do you want me?”
“In my bed,” he murmured against your lips.
His name started as a laugh but turned into a sigh as he dropped a line of kisses down your neck, “I meant, like on the couch or on one of the chairs from the kitchen.”
Bob pulled away and peered deep into your eyes, “Darlin’, I wanted to paint you.” He trailed a teasing finger down your soft stomach. “If that’s alright with you.”
You thought you were just going to be his subject, but as it turns out he wanted you to be his canvas too.
You’re trying not to shiver as he meticulously coats your overheated skin with cool paint. Goosebumps follow in the wake of every delicate stroke he makes along your body.
His hair was curled over his forehead in a way that had your fingers aching to touch him. There was a slight furrow between his eyebrows as he concentrated on the deliberate lines and curves he painted on you. The paint smudge on his cheek only made him all the more attractive to you.
Bob had tucked a pillow beneath your head before he’d started, a gesture that you appreciated now because time had lost all meaning to you. You had no idea how long you’ve been lying there. You were pretty sure every inch of you had to be covered by now.
He’d started along the plane of your stomach and steadily worked his way out from there. Up your arms. Along your clavicle. Over your breasts and tops of your thighs. You didn’t miss the way he’d smirked when you arched into that soft to the touch paintbrush as it glided over your peaked nipple. Or the way he’d hummed pleased when you’d try to subtly rub your thighs together to relieve the need that had been building as you laid there.
Bob loves taking his time with you. In bed, he loved teasing you until you had tears in your eyes and were begging for his cock. And it became clear very quickly that this would be no different.
There was an electric thrum that was pulsing through your body with every dip and swirl and brushstroke. The muscles of your stomach jump involuntarily as the fine hairs of his paintbrush drift over your hypersensitive skin making you whimper.
He tsks, “Gotta stay still for me, pretty girl. I’m almost done, promise.”
You release a shaky sigh and nod, not trusting your voice to betray just how needy you were for him. Although the self-satisfied smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.
You try to control your breathing as he works on finishing, but your shallow breaths sounded loud in his living room. You love getting to watch him work normally, but the intense way he is looking at you- his eyes your favorite shade of Prussian blue now- is too much for your hummingbird heart.
Just as your skin was collecting layers of paint from his brush, the space between your thighs was steadily collecting your wetness. You were so desperate for him to touch you, the need made you want to crawl out of your skin.
You hear the sound of a watery swish and the clink of a brush against glass and your breath catches in your throat in anticipation.
“God, look at you,” Bob breathes, reverently, “You’re so beautiful. This might be my best work ever.”
Instead of the paintbrush, you can feel the path of his flame blue gaze traveling over you as he takes in the art he’s made out of you.
You open your heavy eyes and see Bob wiping off his hands with a frayed towel.
“There she is,” he says, giving you a smile that makes your toes curl. You didn’t notice it sitting there with all his paints until he was reaching for it, his dad’s old film camera. He holds it loosely in front of him like a question, “Can I take a few just for me?”
The answer is easy, “Yes.”
You trusted Bob more than any other man you’d ever been with. He’s never once given you reason to doubt his words because his actions always spoke for themselves.
The guys you’d been with before had been boys, Bob Floyd was a man.
The tension between the two of you is thicker than the acrylic he’d been using earlier as he snaps photo after photo. You admire the way his muscles shift as he bends and angles himself to get the perfect images.
He stands over you, the lens pointed down at you, “Look at me.”
You can barely breathe. You feel yourself getting even wetter at the thought of seeing yourself through his eyes. No one has ever made you feel the way he does.
“Bob”, you whine.
The camera clicks.
“I know,” he hums, “You’ve been so good for me.” He sinks to his knees between your legs and hooks a hand behind your knee, pulling it up so it’s propped on the floor. And then he does the other so that you’re sprawled open for him, just the way he likes you to be, “Just one more, darlin’.”
The heat in his eyes has dried up all the words in your mouth.
He trails a finger down the soft skin of your inner thigh and you gasp.
The sound of his camera reverberates in your head.
“You’ve made such a pretty mess,” he drawls, as he gently sets the camera on the floor next to you. “It’s a good thing I put something down. You’re damn near dripping.”
“Bob, please.” You arch towards him like a flower in the sun.
He settles between your thighs and pushes them apart further so that his broad shoulders fit between them. The paint is still drying on your skin, but neither one of you cares about that now.
“You were so perfect for me. I appreciate you staying so still.” He drops a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t worry, I know just how to thank you.”
Your body jolts at the first touch of his tongue on your clit. You can feel his smile against you, he knows exactly what he does to you.
Bob has always eaten you out like it’s what he was put on this earth to do.
Normally, he’s teasing you with gentle licks and tracing nonsensical shapes on your clit with his tongue until you’re a squirming mess for him. He knows your body so well, always building you up to the point where you’re breaths away from tipping over the edge and then pulls himself back before building you right back up again.
But tonight, there’s nothing playful about the way his mouth is working against you. His hot mouth is sealed to your clit. Bob hums in satisfaction with every keen and whine that he pulls out of you. He laves at you until you’re writhing underneath him, your thighs already shaking.
“Wanna paint you just like this,” he murmurs, sucking at the spot where your leg and hip meet. “But I don’t think you’d stay still long enough for me to finish.”
Bob dips down and gives you another long broad stroke of his tongue. He pulls back only long enough to spit on your cunt before diving right back in, chasing after his own taste on you.
Your hands are in his hair. Clutching at his shoulders. It’s taken him no time at all getting you to the point where you’re trembling and taut.
All the air leaves your lungs when he buries two large fingers into you. Your hips cant into his mouth on their own and he moans. Bob wraps an arm around your hips and presses down on your lower stomach to hold you in place.
You feel the pain smear beneath his warm palm. You were dying to see it. You hoped there was a handprint- his handprint- that disrupted all the lines and swirls of color that he’d decorated you with. Something that was distinctly him.
You were wearing his art and now you’re wearing him. The evidence of this moment in time on your skin.
His fingers and tongue weren’t enough.
You needed more.
“You cock, Bob, I need your cock,” you pant, tugging at his hair.
He meanly sucks your clit into his mouth in a way that has you crying out and jerking against him. You love it, you love him.
“God, I love it when you beg for me,” he licks into you again, “Sweetest sound in the world.”
Bob drops a sweet kiss on your clit, it’s a stark difference to the filthy way he’d been using his mouth on you. He rises to sit back on his knees between your parted legs.
He looks so good kneeling above you the way that he is. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is a mess. That knot behind your bellybutton twists tighter because you did that to him.
He unzips his jeans and tugs them down low enough to pull his hard cock out.
It’s pretty enough to be featured in a gallery, you think to yourself, even in your desperate haze. It’s long, thick, perfect and yours.
Bob smirks when he notices you admiring him, pumping himself slowly a few times for your viewing pleasure.
The only time Bob Floyd was ever a show-off was when he was in bed.
He grabs your thighs and pulls them over top of his own, so that yours are draped over his obscenely, and then he thrusts easily into you.
You gasp at the sensation of being so full of him. It always takes you a minute to adjust to his cock, no matter how many times you’ve taken it now. His thumbs make little circles along your hipbones as your body relents and yields to the size of him.
“There you go,” he says, rocking into you, working you open, “Just needed this cock, didn’t you?”
You whimper your agreement. Your hips tilt into the pressure like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Wanting to show him how much you can take. You know you’ll never get enough of him.
He fucks into you at a reckless and unrelenting pace. You’re high off the feeling of seeing Bob like this, that you’re the one who gets to see him unreserved and uninhibited. He has your hips gripped so tightly, keeping you closer than close. And when you clench around him, you’re treated to a wrecked groan.
Your skin prickles with desire and the feeling of paint drying on you. His cock is hitting just the right spot inside of you and you know you won’t be able to hold off for much longer, not with the way he’s grinding against your aching clit.
Bob’s eyes glued to the spot where you two come together. You’re on full display for him. He watches the way you stretch and spread around him with every deep thrust with the same appreciative gaze that he admires his favorite artists.
It’s under his river blue gaze that your orgasm swiftly sweeps you away. And with your back arching and thighs quaking around his, you give yourself up to the endless current of it.
You know he’s close when his hips start to stutter.
Bob pulls out of you and wraps his large hand around his slick-shined cock and works himself with rough, purposeful strokes.
This time he paints you with himself, his come covering your stomach.
The only sound in the room is the two of you breathing hard, trying to catch your breath.
“Jesus Christ,” Bob huffs, raggedly, taking in his handiwork, “You’re my masterpiece.”
You’re covered in paint and come, but you’ve never felt more beautiful than you do right now as he looks down at you in awe.
“Did you remember to sign your work this time?” you ask, out of breath but teasingly.
“I think I left my mark, darlin’,” he says, with well-earned smugness in his voice. You can’t help but giggle. He flops down next to you, throwing his arm over his eyes, “Goddamn.”
You prop yourself up onto your elbows to look at yourself.
“Baby, I think you gave Jackson Pollock a run for his money.” You grin widely when he lets out an amused snort. “Wait, where’s your camera?”
He passes it to you, the fondness in his eyes makes your chest feel warm. You scooch in close to him and hold it up above your heads, the camera flashes when you kiss his flushed cheek.
That picture is the first one that gets put up in the new house, the one the two of you chose together when he asked you to marry him six months later. Followed by the soft green landscape that now hangs above your shared bed.
It’s your favorite picture of the two of you, happy and in love. You can just see a hint of the cloud he’d painted on your shoulder.
That night Bob had decorated your body with the place he loved best.
He gave you the sky and he made you his world.
Happy birthday, Ames! Your gift will be mailed eventually, it really was a lesson in chemistry, lol! Enjoy a Bob fic just for you in the meantime!
A big, bigggg thank you to the Bob Babes/Lew Crew girlies! @callsignspark and @attapullman I appreciate you two so much for being such ultimate hypegirls! And thank you to @theharddeck, you helped me out of my writers block and I've been so excited to write this since we talked about it back in January!
You can read my other stories here!
taglist:
@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader
#bob floyd#robert bob floyd#bob floyd fic#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x female reader#bob floyd x you#bob floyd imagine#bob floyd fanfiction#robert bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x you#robert bob floyd imagine#robert bob floyd x female reader#bob floyd smut#robert bob floyd smut#top gun fanfiction#top gun imagine#robert bob floyd fic#bob x you#bob x reader
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Like honestly as a Buddie shipper, what the fuck are we supposed to focus on??? What does all of this mean if not Buddie canon???
We get closer than ever this season. There’s a lot of changes in the relationship and how we interact. We’re trying to give the audience what they want.
Well, there’s something brand new for both of us. I can only say that much.
Outside of Christopher, Buck would be the second closest thing that he can have as a relationship.
And then go to Buck and say, 'I trust you with my child, and I see how much you put in for my son; this goes beyond friendship, and I love you to the core. To have that sense of vulnerability is a sense of strength that has been shown.
And the way Eddie navigates that is just kind of a no, that's just who he is. And nothing ruffles my feathers. Even if you break my ankle or maim me, it's fine. That's who he is, and I love him either way. And there's no competition for Eddie.
I don't think that the Buddie fans are wrong.
There is a chemistry there that exists just naturally, so we don't have to try and lean into that or lean away from that. We just let it flow.
Oh, 100%. 100%. I watch certain edits and I think 'Am I Team Buddie?' because there are really talented editors out there. And you know how it is.
Obviously Eddie and Ryan who plays him is obviously an attractive man.
I think with this season 7, we got a lot in store for the audience. You give them what they’ve known and a lot of what they don’t.
There’s a scene in the first episode, where Eddie reveals that he's going — or he mentions a first date, and it in fact ends up being Christopher's first date. And Buck has this moment of "Oh. I thought things were going great with Marisol...' So little moments where I felt like, 'Is there scope to play with Buck?'
They've both become quite embedded in each other's lives. "I think they've kind of bonded and connected on so many levels, whether it be work, their personal lives and then add in that kind of fun dynamic where they clearly do just get on well. I think it's just a nice recipe for a good relationship, however you choose to see it.
There's some really beautiful stuff between him and Eddie and kind of them being open and sharing things with each other that they may have been reluctant to share with—I know how that's going to be taken. But it's true. [They're] there for each other in a very kind of open and nonjudgmental way.
They get to show up for each other in different ways. Moving forward there’s almost like potential for things to come up in a not so great light. But we get to see their friendship persevering, and them being there in ways they didn’t necessarily expect for each other. And I just, it’s a really lovely journey for them this season.
Eddie doesn't really have a sense of direction, so he reaches out for the closest person, and that closest person is Buck.
And Eddie was a mess. I think at that moment, the friendship had a turning point and now has allowed Buck and Eddie to really share as much or whatever they'd want, the scariest things in the world they could share with each other. And we're going to be seeing more of that this season.
As far as [Eddie's] sexuality, I think it's pretty clear that he's tried to fill in this motherly, this wife type role—that's all he knows…"And he's a man [that] first off, he's Catholic. Second off, he's from the military. So those are very straight-edge kind of lifestyles that don't offer too much of exploring. But through the 118, he's had this epiphany each year, like, 'Well, maybe I don't know as much as I thought I did. And maybe I should be exploring a little bit more and maybe I should understand myself a little bit more and even seek a therapist, which is something new for Eddie.
He is actually starting to figure out who he is outside of 'I am an Army man who has a silver badge! ... He's way more than that. He's starting to live in that [feeling] a little bit more, and I think that's freeing to him.
At this point we can’t be reading between the lines or coming to random conclusions when every thing said is so blatantly obvious.
#buddie#ryan guzman#oliver stark#ryliver#LIKE WHAT DOES ALL THIS MEAN#HOW IS IT ALL NOT LEADING TO BUDDIE#yes I’m back with another compilation sue me#thank you for coming to my ted talk
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See the thing is I think a fundemental thing about Gale Dekarios is that if he didn’t have a love interest to talk him down he would claim the crown every time. Because I don’t think he would even stop to think about whether it’s a good idea or not, just like he didn’t stop to think about the orb the forst time. Did he learn his lesson that time? Sort of. He’s going to be super careful about rebuilding the crown. No mistakes! No research undone! He learned his lesson in the sense that now he thinks he was being too hasty and not thinking it through with all the facts… but he has all the facts now. And Karsus’ own book! I think that’s such a fundemental part of his character. Also, he’s impulsive! He does and says things without thinking all the time! Like yes he does it in a charming way and the way Tim plays him leads you to believe he’s jokingly doing it but I’m not so sure. His impulsivity, despite what Larian try and make you believe in scenes like the Blood of Lathander, has only marginally improved from when he discovered the orb. In fact, he’s been locked in a tower for a year, if anything that made it worse now that there’s so much to see and do again.
“But his friends!” I hear you say. Well, disembodied voice that represents my imaginary audience, to that I say- he had friends before. Supposedly. And I have this feeling that he’d think no matter how good of a friendship he has with someone, they’ll leave at the drop of a hat if he does anything wrong ever. Maybe- MAYBE- one of the others could convince him not to do it (I’m thinking Wyll probably) but idk how much sway that would hold with him given his past with people like Elminster and I assume his other colleagues. And another very prominent characteristic of his is that he is very romantically motivated. Even one of his wishes if you talk to that mirror is some shit about a tower being a refuge for him and his sweetheart or whatever (I love this sap of a man). I think more than a lot of the others, he is really looking for a deep connection, a deep companionship, and in the absence of something like that I think he’ll settle for the best revenge against Mystra he can conceive of which is wresting her magic from her or becoming better than her. (Granted it doesnt exactly work out that way but that is the groundwork of his plan)
So I think, in conclusion, if there are a hundred alternate universes Gale would pursue the crown of karsus in 98 of them. The two other possibilities being he has a romantic partner that does not share his ambitions or think they will harm him and thus talks him out of it, or he does for some reason listen to a voice of reason which he has come to trust as much as his own (the only companion I can concieve of this as being is Wyll or an unromanced Tav/Durge)
#also obviosuky the companiosn own personalities and choices will play a role#and this isnt to say he wouldnt be happy Not choosing the crown#i think he would be a whole lot happier even without a so#BUT#i dont think he would see that think about that or care about that#he doesnt really plan ahead#bg3#gale of waterdeep#gale dekarios#baldur’s gate 3#bg3 gale#gale bg3
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Heated training | Steve Rogers
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 -> Avenger!Steve Rogers x Avenger!Female!Reader
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> You’re training with Steve but when he is distracted and you push him down once again things become heated.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 2.364
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, smut, dry humping, semi public sex, tiny bit angst, fluff
𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 -> Hiiii! Could you write a Steve x reader where they’re training and she’s like having to tackle him and straddle him and he gets a boner and things get heated and ya know some smut and maybe the reader is Tony’s daughter and somehow word gets out that something happened and there’s some angst in there. Hope you’re okay writing this, thank you !!❤️ @myersmaniac
𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for the request and hope you like what I made with it.
𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 -> Fandom-Free Bingo: Book Night | N1 | semi private sex | @fandom-free-bingo | MCU Kink Bingo | N3 | Free Square | @mcukinkbingo
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
It’s nothing new that the tall and muscular super soldier has a huge crush on you. He always takes care that his hair looks good and that he is shaved, loving the moments you look at him with a smile on your lips. The way you talk to him, when you need to look up because you’re so small compared to him. It’s at least nothing new to him that he is in love with you; he can’t even remember for how long he has already been in love with you, but he doesn’t dare tell you or anybody else something about it. Not only because you’re Tony Stark's daughter, but also because he doesn’t want to ruin things the two of you have — the wonderful friendship he appreciates.
Steve loves to work with you, spend time with you, or just be close to you. Also, when he can’t touch you in the way he would like to do it, even when he can’t feel your lips all over his body or just cuddle with you in the way he would like, he still enjoys when the two of you laugh and spend time together. Whenever you look at him with those shining eyes and the most adorable and sweet smile on your lips, he loves to hear you laugh, especially when he is the reason for it. He could look at you for hours, admiring you.
“Rogers! Concentration! Otherwise, she tackles you down immediately, again.”
He rolls his eyes over Nat’s comment, even though she is right. You have tackled him down in just a short time since he seems too deep in his thoughts today. He doesn’t really train; it’s more staring at you, trying to grip your wrists before you throw him down, but he often fails to grip your wrists and lands on the ground in no time. Steve’s cheeks are red, and sweat runs all over his face and along his neck. His broad chest and defined abs are covered in sweat as well, his skin softly glistening in the light of the training room.
“Yeah- yeah,” he says, rolling his eyes before he grips your fist and tries to push you down.
But Steve gets distracted by your lips — your beautiful plumb lips, which are slightly parted — and your eyes, which shine like the stars at night. He gets lost in your eyes, and a moment later he feels the mattress underneath his back. You’re sitting on top of him with a big smirk on your lips. You don’t miss the way he looks at you — the way his eyes are focused on your lips and his eyes are slightly darkened. You feel a tingle on your skin when he touches you, but you try not to focus on it during training; otherwise, you both would just stare at one another.
“Sorry guys, Clint is calling. You both don’t mind me picking up?” Natasha asks, already walking out of the door.
Steve, and you look after her. When the door shuts, Steve tries to wiggle you off of him, trying to turn the two of you around, but you grip his fists and press them above his head into the mattress. Moving a bit on top of him to have a better position to hold him in place.
“What stole your concentration today, huh?” You ask, raising your eyebrows.
“N—nothing,” he replies breathlessly, trying to free his hand out of your tight grasp.
You narrow even more and cause your nose to slightly scrunch. Steve chuckles, using the moment of your confusion to free his hands, and tries once again to turn the two of you around. Steve thrusts his hips up, his hands finding their way to your hips. His fingers dig into the fabric of your pants, holding it tightly before he lifts you up. But he hasn’t thought you would jump and let yourself fall down back on him, landing perfectly on his growing bulge in his pants and causing both of you to moan.
Steve's eyes widen immediately, and thoughts run through his mind to find an excuse why his dick is hard. When you look into his wide eyes, you’re just as big as his, gasping about the sudden feeling between your thighs.
“F— Sorry,” he mumbles, blushing slightly.
“Why do you have your phone? No, your keys are in your pocket?” You ask, confused, why he thought of putting it out of his pocket before you two started the training.
“I— That’s not my phone nor my key,” he admits quietly.
You narrow, tilting your head slightly to the side, until you realize what’s pressing against your soaked pussy. It doesn’t feel bad at all, but you didn’t know he felt that way for you, or at least he wouldn’t get a hard on during training. But you straddle him for a few minutes already, so it’s understandable that he gets hard when he is attracted to you and when you move in his cock.
You slowly move your hips, feeling his length rubbing against you. Maybe you should get off of him, but it feels too good to do so, so you’re moving slowly, looking deep into his eyes while you wait for Steve to stop you from grinding against him when he doesn’t like it. But he gasps and digs his finger more into your covered skin, helping you grind on his cock.
“Princess, we—we can’t.”
“Why not? Don’t you like it?” You ask, pouting while you stop your movements on his growing dick.
“I love it— I—I love you, but—“
His eyes widen even more when he realizes what he just said. His cheeks heat up, and he opens his mouth to form an apology, but there is nothing he has in mind to say. He’s adorable when he is shy and slightly embarrassed — not that you like seeing him embarrassed around you, just that his lips are slightly parted, his blue eyes look so lovely but at the same time unsure, and his red cheeks — just hot and cute at the same time. First he got hard while training, and now he told you he loves you; he would face palm himself when his hands wouldn’t be clued to your waist, not wanting to let go of you because you could move away from his cock.
Your smirk grows when you lean closer, your lips just an inch away from his, and you can feel his warm breath on your sweaty skin. Steve closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, before he lifts his head and breaks the distance between your lips. His soft, pink lips move perfectly against yours, and he licks over your lips to ask for access. You’re parting your lips, and you're deepening the kiss until both of you need to pull away to breathe deeply.
“I love you too. Please— I need you, Stevie,” you mumble, moving your hips harder on his covered cock.
Steve groans, throwing his head back and giving you more space to kiss and bite into the soft skin of his neck. You lick a strap along his neck, chasing him to close his eyes and thrust his hips up. His bulge presses more against your covered pussy, and you moan softly.
“Everyone could see us!” He breathes heavily, looking through his lashes at you.
You sit up and smirk when your hands slide over his broad chest, and you start moving your hips at a fast but steady pace over his dick. He is panting underneath you; with his hands, he helps you to move on top of him, pushing you further down to cause more friction.
“S—Steve, I’m so close,” you whimper.
The tip of his cock is hitting your clit with every thrust, and you push both of you closer to your edge. He didn’t know it could feel that good without being inside of you, but it does, and he is just as close as you.
“Tell me we’re going to get in your room and do it again; tell me you’re mine,” Steve says, slowing your hips down.
Pre-cum is soaking his pants, and he just wants to push you more on his cock and guide you over it to make both of you come, but he wants to hear that you’re his.
“So possessive, huh?” You ask, teasingly.”
His answer is just a harsh movement of his hips. You moan and throw your head back, trying to move faster, but he stops you with his grasp.
“S— Stevie. We can do it as often as you want; I’m yours— I’m all yours, but please let me come,” you whine.
Steve grins, moving your hips faster on his dick and bringing you closer to the edge. It doesn’t take long for the two of you until you’re coming, clenching around nothing while Steve is soaking his pants with his cum. You’re both breathing heavily and calming down from your high when you hear someone coming back into the room.
“G— What are you two doing, sitting like that and doing nothing?” Tony asks, narrowing.
Steve chuckles, nodding his head. Tony just wants to inform you that you are going to have a meeting, but seeing you on top of Steve, straddling him, wasn’t something he expected to see when he came into the training room. Actually, the two of you are always trying to tackle one another.
“Oke—“ he pauses, nodding his head and inhaling. “Meeting.”
With that, he leaves the room, and you laugh. Your brother’s expression was just too funny. You lean down, capture Steve’s lips, and kiss him softly.
“After the meeting, I’m all yours.”
“You’re already mine, but then we repeat that here without clothes.”
You then get off of Steve. The blond-haired man looks at the wet spot on his pants and smirks when he sees you staring at his covered cock. You both take a shower because you get ready for the meeting Tony told you about — next mission, which isn’t really interesting for you since you only have your eyes on one another.
Steve and you have been secretly dating for a few weeks now. You often spend time together, which isn’t new to see for the others. Even when you smile in another way, your gazes are different — happier — but no one really asks about it. They are just happy that Steve and you are happy — still thinking you’re best friends.
When Tony asks you to come into his office because he wants to talk with you, you have a huge smile on your face. When you knock at the door and swing it open, you freeze immediately. Steve is sitting there in front of your father, who looks angry, and you swallow hard. The smile fades away, and you look slightly confused.
“Come in and close the door.”
You do as you’re told; you close the door behind you and walk toward the men, letting yourself fall down next to Steve on a chair. Tony looks at you before he moves to face Steve; he then points at the monitor on the desk in front of you.
When your father turns on the video, you gasp, your eyes widen, and your hands get sweaty. You hear Steve inhaling deeply next to you. He swallows hard and slides down in his chair. The video that Tony is showing of the two of you shows Steve and you making out on the floor before you pull him with you into your room.
You know Tony isn’t a friend of the men around you; he is protective and doesn’t want someone to hurt you. He already made your ex-boyfriend run away because he was afraid of Tony’s Iron Man suit walking without him inside the suit.
“D—Dad, I would say i—it’s not what it looks like what Steve and I did, but it is. B—“
“Rogers!” Tony says, his jaw clenching when he looks at your boyfriend.
“Tony, I—I don’t want to hurt her. I—I love her,” Steve says, reaching for your hand, but you pull away, afraid of what your father could say.
Steve sighs, looking down and inhaling deeply. He rubs his hands over his pants and sighs once again before he continues to speak.
“I would never do anything she didn’t want to. Tony, I love her.”
You smile softly, but your body is still tensed, and you don’t dare look at Steve. Tony nods, leaning back in his chair and tapping his fingers on the surface of his desk.
“Do you love him?” He asks, looking at you, and you nod, then he turns his face back to Steve. “When you hurt her, I will cut your balls off!”
Steve doesn’t know if he wants to smile or swallow hard, but he smiles, nodding and turning toward you. He places his hand in front of you, waiting until you place yours in his big one before he brings your hand to his lips and kisses your soft skin. Tony rolls playfully with his eyes, watching the two of you when you lean in to press your lips against Steve’s, soft and sweet.
"First, the gentleman an— Get a room!” Tony shouts, and you burst out laughing about the way he raises his eyebrows and grasps the surface of the table.
“We will,” you tell him, smirking when you get up and pull Steve with you.
With a wink at Tony, you make your way to the door of his office, leaving it. Before you can walk further through the floor, Steve pushes you against the wall behind you, attacking your lips with his.
“I love you so much, princess.”
“I love you too, Stevie.”
With that, he lifts you up and carries you into your bedroom, continuing what you have seen in the video Tony shows the two of you. And you’re glad he accepts what you have with Steve, because it’s special, and you’re happier than you ever have been since you've been with Steve. He treats you like a princess, like his perfect and sweet princess.
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @felicitylemon @cjand10 @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77@bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @pono-pura-vida @princesscore-angel
#mcu#marvel mcu#marvel#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers smut#steve rogers x fem reader smut#steve rogers x f!reader#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x yn#steve rogers x reader smut#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x you#steve rogers one shot#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers fic#captain america fluff#captain america smut#captain america x reader#captain america fanfiction#captain america fanfic#captain america x you#captain america x female reader#captain america one shot#steve x fem reader#steve x female reader#steve x reader smut#steve x y/n#steve x reader
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Radioapple Your Lie in April AU because April's almost over and nobody has brought me this pain, so I'll do it myself.
Lucifer has been suffering from depression since his wife left him and took custody of their daughter. He has slowly begun to rebuild his relationship with Charlie since Lilith's disappearance, but he has yet to come to terms with what happened, and he sees the world only in monochrome without color.
Enter Alastor, who brings color into his life the moment they meet. Unfortunately, they do get off on the wrong foot and don't get along very well initially, but everything changes after the extermination, when Lucifer jumps in to help Alastor fight off some attackers against the hotel, and they slowly become closer...
Until one day, Alastor collapses after a fight side by side with Lucifer against the Vees.
Alastor brushes it off as having an iron deficiency and he hadn't eaten any people in a while, so it wouldn't happen again, but Lucifer knows something is seriously wrong. He doesn't push the matter at first, he is too grateful for the friendship Alastor brings and doesn't want to push his boundaries. He doesn't want to lose Alastor like he lost Lilith. But when Alastor collapses again, this time not even showing up to a battle, Lucifer has to pry.
Turns out during the extermination, Alastor was struck by Adam's blade. He has been able to hide it and fight off the injury, but the holy elements of the weapon have been infecting him like a disease, eating away at his very being and not even his own powers can stop it anymore. He manages to hide the strain at first, but when he gets the prognosis that unless something is done, he is going to die, he becomes more irritable overall.
Lucifer begins to spiral all over again. He wants to help Alastor, but the infection has spread so much he doesn't think he alone can do it, and it reminds him of how he failed Lilith and it caused her to leave. His mental health taking a turn allows an opening for Roo to appear, and the hotel gets notice that she plans to attack the hotel as well.
Charlie spoke to heaven about the situation with Alastor, and because he sustained the injury fighting against their genocide, aka he was the righteous one in the situation, Emily is able to overpower Sera's opinion and agree to set up a surgery for Alastor to extract any of the angelic power remaining and save his life. Unfortunately, this surgery is very dangerous, and it would have to happen on the same day Roo is estimated to attack.
Lucifer agrees to go into the fight alone, praying that when he got back Alastor would be in recovery, but halfway through the fight, a ghostly image of Alastor appears by his side and is able to fight alongside him. This was Alastor, but the way he was here... Lucifer knew what had happened, begging Alastor to stay as they win the fight, but he has no choice but to watch Alastor disappear forever, with only a final whisper to him.
"Goodbye."
Alastor died from complications during the surgery, and because of the angelic weapon poisoning him, he was gone for good. Lucifer didn't need to be told the news, but he didn't come out of his room for a long time after that.
But it's while he's making more ducks to cope that he finds a letter hidden among his duck-making supplies. The letter was from Alastor, written the same day he had told Lucifer about the surgery. He had known he was likely going to die, and decided to tell Lucifer everything, about who he was, why he came to the hotel to help Charlie, and most importantly that he had fallen in love with Lucifer and wanted him to be happy.
Lucifer uses that as the strength he needs to continue on and stay alongside his daughter, but he would never forget about Alastor. He would never be able to see another spring without him, and he would always wish he had told Alastor he loved him too.
(Yes I know, given their assigned instruments the roles would be the other way around, but this felt more fitting since how the hell would Lucifer get terminally ill.)
👀
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tw (depression)
hello would you be interested in writing about sinner!Adam becoming best friend with a touch averse kind of depressed male sinner!reader who works at the hazbin hotel (and is secretly touch starved) and then starting to have a crush on him cause he’s the only one who doesn’t want to kill him on sight and he’s able to babysit him and care for him without asking for anything in return. Maybe the friendship process and how Adam tries to flirt with him? Sorry for the wall of text and thanks
Okay so reader being touch starved is only heavily implied by Adam constantly touching him, hope that works! Also never apologize for being specific when it comes to requests - the longer the better <3 also his flirting is low-key awkward bc I headcanon Adam to not do well with rejection - especially when he's seriously interested in someone.
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
pairing: Adam x male!reader
warnings: language, mentions & symptoms of depression
note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers
Adam hated everything down there in hell, from the hotel, over its residents all the way to Lucifer. He deeply hated every single sinner in this shithole and his heart longed for the safe walls of heaven that protected him from the filth. And the worst part was that he wasn’t even able to fully relax when he spent his days at the hotel, how could he when everyone wanted him dead - even Charlie, not that she’d ever admit let alone act on it.
But then there was you, a random guy Adam had never noticed before. He had not seen you during the battle, or maybe he had seen you and had just been too busy to focus on a sinner as unimportant as you. But now that he called the hotel his home, he was quite grateful for your company. Because while hell itself sucked and caused waves of tiredness and sadness to wash over him every now and then, you were the one that could get rid of those gray rain clouds for him. You weren’t a sunshine like Charlie, the exact opposite was the case. You had your fair share of problems to deal with, one of said problems was the fact that you suffered from depression - not that this illness would make you special or whatever, many people in hell suffered from it. Hell and depression sort of came in a package deal. Yet Adam made it a little easier to deal with - a thing you had never ever imagined you’d admit to.
A nice thing that came hand in hand with the friendship that grew between you and Adam was how touchy the first man was, he somehow had his hands on you constantly. When he’d walk past you he’d ruffle your hair, when you were sitting on the couch he would sit down next to you only to pull you in his lap and play with your hair. It was nice to have someone to cuddle with on a casual basis, though sometimes you longed for more, more than just friendship, something more intimate. But you weren’t sure if you had the energy for that.
Adam on the other hand longed for the same thing, he made it very obvious that he was interested in you, he would listen to your problems - or at least pretent to do so, because sometimes your problems were fucking boring in his eyes. But he’d hold you in his arms while you talked about things that kept you up at night, no matter if he was listening or not. And that alone seemed to help, at least Adam thought it did by the way you acted. And while the first man tried to act on the feelings he had for you, you made it quite hard for him to actually do so. “Y’know” he casually hummed as he headed towards the kitchen with you sitting on his shoulders. That was a thing you had talked him into at the beginning of your friendship, whenever you felt too tired to walk for yourself you’d ask him to carry you and usually he did so. Sometimes - though that rarely happened - he was too tired himself and would simply refuse to get up at all. “We should give this LuLu world bullshit a fucking try,” he continued as he headed for the fridge. You looked down onto him, a little confused by his statement. “Why?” Adam shrugged his shoulders, his hands grabbed a hold of your legs so you wouldn’t fall as he did. “Why the fuck not? It’s not like this shithole of a fucking hotel has anything to offer.” And while he had a point, you simply saw no reason to visit LuLu world. It was bright, loud and full of people, that didn’t sound very fun to you. “Pass, “ you mumbled as you opened the fridge and looked for something to eat, the brunette sighed loudly, “Fucking c’mon shithead, I’ll be fucking fun.” You shook your head though, “Been there once, it wasn’t fun at all.”The first man reached for a plate of ribs that you had prepared for him a couple hours ago and handed you a bowl of chocolate pudding, “If you say so.” And with that the topic was through and Adam had to come up with yet another idea to invite you on a date.
As Adam turned around to head back to his room he shrieked and backed off against the counter. Niffty was standing in the door frame to the kitchen, a little needle in her hand as she giggled at the sight of Adam. “Lemme down, I’ll put her away,” you mumbled with your mouth full of chocolate pudding and made grabby hands for the brunette to put you back on your own feet, the taller male that was carrying you on your shoulders though shook his head, “No fucking way I let you near that little bitch.” You however simply patted his hair and climbed off his shoulders yourself so that you could head over to Niffty and get that little gremlin out of the way. “Nif,” you hummed in a soft tone as you kneeled down next to the small demon, offering her a small smile. The redhead jumped up and down on the spot in excitement, teasingly pointing the sharp end of the needle in Adam’s direction. You were quick to take that weapon from her, “Nuh uh, I told ya we leave the big guy alone.” Adam raised an eyebrow at that, wondering when the fuck you had spoken to Niffty about anything that involved him, he could not recall a memory like that and therefore figured you must have done that without his knowledge. Kinda cute, that he had to admit. “Awww, but he looks so funny when I threaten him;” the small demon cried out in disappointment, clearly not happy with the decision you had made for her. “Doesn’t matter, he’s off the table Nif, we leave him be,” you explained once more and while not happy with that result, the redhead accepted her fate and took off.
“C’mere you fucking bitch,” the brunette mumbled and you were just about to ask him what he was talking about, but before you could his arms wrapped around your body and you were lifted onto his shoulders again, “Stay away from the fucking impure filth.” That earned the first man a slap on the back of his head and before he could open his mouth to complain you spoke, “I’m filth too, just as impure as the other cunts here.” Adam was quick to disagree,”No you’re fucking not, otherwise I wouldn’t fucking carry you around like you’re the most divine fucker God had ever created.” And while you wanted to argue, there was truly no point, so you simply decided to go along with his point of view.
“Also,” Adam whispered as he was heading back to his hotel room with you still on his shoulders, “That stunt of yours? Fucking badass.” In confusion you asked the brunette, “What stunt are we talking about?” He tapped your knee nervously as Husk walked past you, he waited until the bartender was gone before he responded, “Standing up to that demon bitch.” In reality it had been less impressive, but Adam liked the fact that you had talked to that little girl about leaving him alone and this was his way of saying thank you - it wasn’t a very good way, but that didn’t matter. “I didn’t stand up to her, I-” Adam interrupted you, his voice echoed through the empty hallway as his voice sounded louder than he had intended it to, “Just take the fucking compliment, for God’s sake.” - “Thanks,” you simply responded and gently patted his cheek as you playfully added, “Next time you can just call me hot, I can take compliments if they’re actually voiced as such.” And despite the fact that you weren’t able to see Adam’s cheeks heating up and turning red, you felt them heating up under your touch. “Shut the fuck up, I dunno what the hell you’re talking ‘bout,” he mumbled as he tilted his head downwards, you left this uncommented. If he needed time to admit to his feelings fully, you were okay with that. You have spent your entire afterlife in this hellhole, waiting for someone to save you. Now that a certain someone had arrived and was willing to save you, you were willing to wait for him. And while you did so, you would be able to work on yourself so that you would be ready for him when he decided to take the first step. “You are though,” the words of the brunette drowned your thoughts out and you looked down on him, a big question mark on your face as you asked, “What?” Adam sighed and rolled his eyes, “Hot, dipshit, you’re fucking hot.” Now that was sooner than you had thought he’d admit it out loud, but you took it as it came. “I’m aware,” you hummed, a proud smile on your lips as Adam entered his room and carelessly pushed the door close using his wing, “So are you.”
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Okay I just need to say that I knew I'd like this Tailstube as soon as I saw the thumbnail (after all, I am a Sonadails enjoyer, and Tails is literally in the middle of them in the thumbnail)
But I think probably something that stood out the most to me when I watched it was just
The hints that Shadow and Tails have a relationship outside of Sonic??
The first thing that tipped me off to this was that not only did Tails convince Shadow to join in on his show, he also convinced him to stick around to its natural end?? You know, Shadow. The guy you can't force to do anything and frequently will just dip if he's bored or doesn't want to be there. But even while Sonic was annoying him and he made it clear he wanted the "interview" over with, he still never made a move to chaos control out of there because of any of this.
And the second thing that tipped me off was this:
When Shadow is both confused and annoyed at Sonic, he chooses to complain to Tails about Sonic. And so Tails steps in to try to "explain" what Sonic meant by what he said (i.e he told Shadow something much nicer in the interest of getting them to be on better terms). The fact that he looks to Tails to complain to about Tails' own best friend and possibly even to explain that which he does not understand in a social context tells me just how highly he regards Tails. And since both Shadow and Sonic are being childish here, it's amusing to see Tails regarded as something closer to a trusted figure with more power here.
From an objective analysis standpoint, of course this means they have their own friendship. And this is a prospect I enjoy (The idea that Tails and Shadow are good friends)! It actually means a lot to me that Tails could form a frienship or bond with Shadow outside of the context of Sonic (in terms of who initiates it and for what reason it's initiated).
But, my friends, from a biased standpoint, I'm shipping trash. And to me this Tailstube was a fun show for Sonadails fans. Honestly, Tails staging this episode to get Sonic and Shadow to talk and "bury the hatchet", as well as how he acts during the show, read a lot to me personally like a guy trying to get his two boyfriends (who happen to be rivals) to get on better terms, if not just tolerate each other. I quite like the idea of Tails dating both of these idiots and just trying to get them to play nice when they're all together (although frankly I think the ideal scenario for Tails in my biased reading is that Sonic and Shadow get together as well).
This is also not to mention the dynamics showcased here! Sonic and Tails as best friends, with Sonic assuming that he and Tails were gonna talk shit about Shadow behind his back, and Tails trying to get him to play nicer. Shadow and Tails as friends, with Tails trying to convince him why he and Sonic are in the perfect position to become friends and helping him out socially, and with Shadow choosing to do something he doesn't want to because of Tails, as well as looking to Tails to complain to when Sonic is annoying him or when he doesn't understand something. And then there's Sonic and Shadow. In short, their relationship in this episode reminded me a lot of the dynamic I plotted out for that Sonadow post I wrote up where the two just beat the crap out of each other. In slightly longer terms, I find interesting how Mr. Flynn maintained Sonic and Shadow's dynamic during SA2 (with Sonic bothering Shadow and trying to fight him, while Shadow is just annoyed that Sonic won't leave him alone) while also showing the audience that they are rivals. And in longer terms...Sonic was clearly seeking a fight during this episode. And the facial expression, the mocking, his tone of voice, it doesn’t really matter whether or not he actually dislikes Shadow and believes they could never be friends. He's trying to annoy Shadow and goad him into a fight because he wants to fight Shadow so badly it makes him look stupid. And we can tell by how he expresses his confusion to Tails that Shadow is just not getting this. To him Sonic is just being annoying and confusing. Sonic is targeting him specifically, and Shadow shoots back with his own words. And so it's also pointed that Shadow reciprocates/actually decides to fight Sonic when Sonic specifically challenges him. He doesn't respond to Sonic trying to goad him on, but when Sonic challenges him specifically he's much more interested in opposing him.
Anyways guys I love Shadow and Tails having a soft on the side relationship while Sonic flirts by convincing Shadow to fight him somehow😂💖
#sonic the hedgehog#tailstube#sonadails#sonshadails#sonadow#sontails#shadails#shadow the hedgehog#tails the fox#miles tails prower#i just be ramblin#man there are so many things about this episode#Another personal favorite interaction was when#Tails: Come on could you try to just say one nice thing about each other? One compliment? Please?#Sonic‚ mockingly: Anything you can do I can do better#Shadow: Yeah? Do it then. Prove it.#Sonic: Ah crap he called my bluff#Sonic: I uh...I love the way you...chaos control?#Tails: Okay. You do one now Shadow#Shadow: I uh... I also love the way you chaos control. ...It's impressive that you could do it with a fake emerald#Tails: See? You can compliment each other! Sorta#Sonic is on the aro/ace spectrum to me but to me his most compelling relationships are always little buddy effect related and knuckles#effect related#Which just means that he tends to hold relationships like his and Tails highly (and has taken more than one little buddy)‚ but is also#attracted to people who have tried to kill him. What can I say? He loves the softness and domesticity of having a smaller loyal partner as#he loves the danger and exhilaration of fighting/racing a strong opponent#Sonic and Shadow fighting (and especially Sonic trying to get Shadow to fight him on purpose) is just baseline what the two need#for 'toxic yaoi' so if someone can't even handle how hostile they were during the tailstube then...#Anyways‚ how we feelin Sonshadails fans?
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Rest in peace Perona her efforts will not be in vain… she’s having the formative sapphic experience of Definitely flirting with someone but them being too oblivious to ever pick it up so they’re just stuck in a friendship hole.
And the boys with Zoro 😭 they’re not doing any better . They miss their brother…!
Though thinking about it with what you said about not really believing in soul marks in regards to Zoro and zosan being implied to be soulmates, I feel like if that ever came up they’d tear him a new one . Zoro is entirely decked out in threes. The swords, the earrings, he prefers doing things in sets of three (new thing he didn’t know about himself that the brothers point out to him actually) , so is their three just not good enough for him??? Huh ???
Though also that leads me to ask. How are zosan in this au? I imagine they’re kinda turbulent in their usual way, but it would be fun to know more 👁️
- Wine
THIS IS SO LONG WINE! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME??
(thank you this is very fun)
Perona will never be forgotten! Mihawk will also make sure she knows her failures are not her fault, but that it is quite funny to see her fail. Perona argues that it's easier for him and Sora just because they have soulmarks. Sora then tells them about their first meeting and that it was a whole event and she's surprised the guards didn't kill him. Mihawk argues that he would have just kidnapped her then and there and killed the guards if they wouldn't release him. Sora just frowning at him with crossed arms. Mihawk stares back and points out it was an entirely valid option.
Where as 124ji miss their brother and whine about not being able to talk to him or get any updates on him for two years. They look at the hilts and braids on Zoro's swords and think of their brother and his mark. They ask Zoro about his mark and he shrugs and shows them. It's a school of all different types of fish in the bluest blue they've seen but it's on his back. They ask if they know who his soulmate is because they know. They can tell who it is but Zoro has no clue and doesn't care really. So they don't tell him. When Mihawk finds out he asks Zoro why he thinks denying himself will make him stronger at some point during their training together. Zoro says he wants to focus on fulfilling his dream and making sure Luffy becomes the king of the pirates. Mihawk sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose and points out he didn't get become the greatest until he was in his thirties, after he saved Sora and started raising all the kids. Zoro shrugs and says that doesn't know what that has to do with him and Mihawk says it's a waste to ignore the power of having something to protect, that having that person, that family draws a strength greater than just wanting to be the the greatest.
Zoro shrugs and 124ji bemoan their brother going through soulmate rejection because they remember the rose colored view of soulmates Sanji had. Zoro looks at them with confusion and Niji says they were right about it when they were younger. Zoro asks what they mean and they point out the three swords, three earrings, that he does do things in three so what is about Sanji that he doesn't like so he rejects his soulmate. Zoro is staring at them. Because they're clearly fed up and they're talking about how they were right when they were younger about his soulmate not loving him as much as they do. Zoro argues he's never even seen the cook's soulmark and Mihawk chides his sons to be quiet. Zoro didn't want to know or be held back by his soulmate after all.
Zoro of course is thinking back to the cook asking him about soulmates in Cocoyashi after they saved Nami and her village and what he told the cook who nodded and stayed quiet. The agression and snide remarks. Of course it had to be the cook. Zoro always found Sanji when the blond got lost in the woods and always tailored food to him. So now Zoro, who's kinda been a dick to his soulmate for months and he's staying with his family and planning to kill his dad. The blond who has been telling people he knows his soulmate but they're not together, won't ever be together. The blond who sometimes gets a faraway look in his eye before going back to give his all to care for the crew.
Also like Sanji has to absolutely have game if Zoro "rejected" him. With all the flirting he was doing as a teen hoping to find his soulmate he has gotta have so much fucking game. So Zoro is with Mihawk and Sora and their kids and Perona as he running through the gambit of emotions of what happened up until Sabaody and he just looks like when Perona hit him with a ghost on Thriller Bark. Perona is yelling at Zoro that he's been so fucking dum and not cute because only he could reject his soulmate who is a one way ticket to Mihawk.
#black leg sanji#roronoa zoro#vinsmoke sanji#zosan#zoro roronoa#hawkeye mihawk#dracule mihawk x sora#dracule mihawk#mihawk x sora#vinsmoke sora#vinsmoke reiju#vinsmoke ichiji#vinsmoke niji#vinsmoke yonji#1234ji#vinsmoke brothers#vinsmoke family#vinsmoke siblinga#answers#soulmate au#sanzo#loved!sanji#perona
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As for Shuro/Toshiro... lemme see if I can put this coherently. The long and short of it is, this is Ryoko Kui doing the thing she does in which she uses the dungeon as a neutral background in which characters with different ideas can clash and come to terms with each other. We're not supposed to side with Toshiro, but we are not supposed to side with Laios, really, mostly because there is no "right" and "wrong" here.
A character who is heavily coded as autistic and comes from a northern europe coded culture (low-context - information is supposed to be conveyed in the most straightforward and clear way possible, even when said way is considered rude) meets another character who is extremely shy and comes from a japan coded culture (high context - info is supposed to be inferred by a mix of behaviour and conversational allusion, maintaining peaceful interpersonal relationships takes precedent over efficiency).
Neither of them are inherently wrong in the way they approach the other. Yes, Toshiro shouldve said something, but he doesn't know how. He was not taught how to handle someone like Laios. Conversely, Laios was not taught how to read between the lines and understand what a person is trying to convey if they are not speaking directly.
Since Laios is the main protagonist and we see most of the story from his POV, and also since most people on this website are American (low context culture), its easy for people to assume we are supposed to side with him. But I don't think that's the author's intention at all. Remember - Kui is Japanese writing for a primarily Japanese audience. From THEIR POV Toshiro's behaviour is perfectly understandable. It's also worth noting that there is a lot of extra material that gives further context to the Toshiro/Laios relationship.
One of the main points, for example, is how Laios gets Toshiro's name wrong. When they first met, Toshiro is immediately an object of curiosity to Laios BECAUSE he is a foreigner from a faraway land. Laios immediately invites himself to become his friend and starts asking question after question. When he finally remembers he's supposed to ask for Toshiro's name, he misunderstands it as Shuro, and Toshiro is too shy to correct him. "Renaming" the foreign side character for the benefit of the Western main character is an extremely loaded symbolic choice from Robinson Crusoe's Friday onward. I am not aware of the particular history of this trope in Japanese literature, but other elements of Toshiro's story suggest that renaming in his culture is something that is often done to slaves. Ryoko Kui is generally very deliberate about details like these. I highly doubt this is a random choice.
Of course Laios does not do it on purpose and Toshiro understands this and decides to let it slide, but its still something hurtful that Laios does to another person without even realising that hes doing it. This is a type of mistake he does often and he will do again across the story.
Again. Not saying Toshiro is perfectly right either, but there is a reason why they finish the meeting on relatively decent terms - because they BOTH recognise how they went wrong.
Toshiro realises that he needs to be more direct and determined about what he wants, but this is a reality check for Laios as well. He has been able to coast by so far in the dungeon without giving much thought to other people's wants and needs, thanks to the help of friends who care for him and are willing to follow him, but the story is changing pace and scale. Soon he might have to make some difficult decisions that involve the life and death of others. He needs to learn to listen.
This is why the Toshiro confrontation happens in the same span where we see Chimera!Falin going on a rampage, and Kabru trying to establish a friendship with Laios to assess what kind of person he is. Several narrative threads are coming to a head - the conflict with Toshiro is the tangible result of the tensions we saw around Laios' uncaring attitude from the beginning.
#shuro/toshiro#laios#meta#those are mostly confused notes sorry if they dont make much sense#meowing to myself
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Could you write something where you are new and in almost all of robins classes, but the more you get to know each other, the more you hang out. She starts to think maybe your friendship is more than what she thought it was, like shes feeling something she knows that you shouldnt feel for a friend
Torture
↝a/n: thank you for requesting. 🩷 This is kinda cute (but rushed)
↝pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!reader
↝warning: not proofread
|| Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Buckley, or any character from Stranger Things. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||
↝⎙ 4.24.24
In a bustling hallway of Hawkins High, you nervously navigate your first day, feeling lost among the sea of unfamiliar faces. Until a sweet voice calls out.
"You look lost. Need a hand?"
Looking up, you didn't know what to say at first. She was the first person to talk to you, even with all the kids around you. No one paid you the time of day, too caught up in their own highschool drama.
The girl offers a smile, pointing towards the paper with your classes. You nervously chuckle, handing the paper over. She quickly glanced at it, before dragging you to the first class, which you so happened to have together.
She was nice and funny. It was easy to get along with her. When she wasn't talking about the newest thing or telling you about the school and people in it, she was listening to you and your story of how you ended up in Hawkins. She listened. Something not many teenagers do.
It didn't take long for you two to become close. You walked together in the halls, did homework together, went over to each other's houses, called after school, kept each other updated on the drama that happened in the classes you don't have together. It was amazing to have someone to talk to after moving to a new town.
It was torture for Robin.
Don't get her wrong, she adored you. Maybe even a little too much.
She started off seeing you as a friend. You were nice and funny. But apparently that's her type. She started noticing how you put your hair behind your ear as you smiled, the creases next to your lips as you smile- how your eyes crinkle as well. She loved the color red on you. She wanted to spend every moment with you.
It was unhealthy, she thought. It wouldn't cause anything but trouble. But she wasn't one to just end something. Especially when it meant so much to not only her, but you. Was she just supposed to drop you one day? Leave you alone in the sea of sharks? She wasn't that type of person, so she'd have to endure the unspoken rejection.
"That doesn't make sense." Robin watched your eyebrows furrow, not noticing her lips lightly pull into an amused grin. You were adorable when confused. "Biology is a bitch."
"couldn't agree more." She shut her book, pulling her bag from beside your bed and started putting everything in it.
"what're you doing? I thought we had more to study?" There you were, making it hard for her to just see you as a friend. With your pretty eyes, lips, cheeks.
"I have errands to run. Sorry." She stood, moving to put her backpack on.
"are you going to walk? I drove you here."
Robin stumbled over her words. She forgot about that, even with her standing in your room. There's no way she was going to stay there , inhaling your smell that was on everything. It was torture. "It's not that far of a walk."
You stood, smiling as you walked over to your desk chair, putting your jacket on. "Don't be silly. I need fresh air anyway."
"No."
You paused with one arm in your jacket. "What?"
She sighed, looking up at your ceiling. "I just...I just need some time away from you." Ouch. She could've worded that better. Didn't stop it from being true.
"oh-yeah...yeah of course." Your jacket fell from your arm, landing back in the seat of the chair. "It is a long walk though. I can get my mom to take you home."
Robin sighed, "Why do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Care so much."
You walked over to your bed and slumped down on it, looking at her confused. "Because you're my friend? I'm supposed to care."
She nodded slowly, biting her lip. "Why do you have to? You make it so much harder than it has to be."
"I'm confused, Robin."
"I shouldn't feel this way about you."
It was quiet for a moment, until you broke it with a whisper. "What way?"
Llike I like you." Robin managed to spit out, instantly regretting it as your face dropped.
"Robin..."
She was quick to make her way to your door, grabbing the handle. "I'm just going to go-"
"You don't have to. We can talk this out-please don't go."
"I made things awkward."
"No you didn't."
She felt a hand on her elbow, too scared to turn around. You were right there, with her secret just aired out. Were you going to laugh at her? Spread it around school? She knew you weren't the type, but you can't be too sure.
"I like you too, Robin."
"Really?" She hated how fast she asked, but didn't care when she met your eyes. You offered her a sweet smile, eyes crinkling and all.
"Yeah, I didn't know if it was romantic feelings or not. But after Tonight, I kind of got my answer. I really, really like you."
"In that case," he backpack slid to the floor, her arms going around you. "I don't have errands."
"Good," you grabbed her hand, turning and dragging her back towards your bed and the open book that laid on your covers. "I still need to help with biology."
"Why must you torture me?"
•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•
•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]
#xoxo-sarah 🩷#robin buckley fanfic#robin buckley#robin buckley fluff#robin buckley x reader#robin buckley x fem!reader#robin x reader#robin buckley x you#robin buckley x female reader#robin buckley x y/n#robin buckley angst#robin buckley imagine#robin buckley fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#stranger things x reader#stranger things imagine#stranger things x y/n#stranger things x you#stranger things fluff#stranger things angst#📼
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I love 9-1-1 so much!
I have fallen in love with tv shows before, watching episodes religiously as they aired weekly. 9-1-1 has been different for me though, it’s become more like an obsession. In some ways that’s bad, it’s consuming my mind a lot of times and it’s distracting me from other things I need to get done. However, really getting into the fandom of this show has also been wonderful for me, it’s made me so happy, actually getting involved with other fans and talking to people the last couple months has been so fun! You all are amazing, funny, talented people and I’m truly grateful that I’ve been able to interact with you!
Now, I’ve heard about some toxicity within the fandom, Buddie and BuckTommy shippers turning against each other and fighting about what’s best for the characters. (Which btw, isn’t really up to us anyway)
I personally haven’t seen a lot of that, who knows, maybe I’m just ignoring it because I don’t want to see it. Either way I always try to keep a very open and and neutral stance when it comes to shipping. I let myself enjoy the stories, the edits, the fan art, and the speculation. However, I also try to stay grounded in the reality of what’s happening in the movie/book/tv show.
When it comes to 9-1-1 right now, between Buddie and BuckTommy I’m not picking sides. I like both ships the same, and I don’t think that’s gonna change any time soon. I really, really enjoy both ships! (Plus the fan fiction for both are amazing, so I’m LIVING)
Buddie is part of the reason that I started watching in the first place, Buck and Eddie are my favorite characters. I love them both to death, and regardless of their relationship status they have something special, no one can deny that! Their friendship is beautiful and deep, they do truly love each other, they’re family, they will always be there for each other whether or not they end up in a romantic relationship. I’m honestly just happy to see them together in any capacity. And yes, I will happy, overjoyed even, if they decide to make Buddie cannon, but I’ll also be happy if their relationship remains as it is.
As far as Buck and Tommy go I was surprised when the kiss happened, but OH MY GOD… I was totally there for it! I’m actually really happy with this storyline so far, (even if the second hand embarrassment nearly killed me during the first date)I think that they’ll be great together, I really can’t wait to see them getting to know each other more! Wherever this goes, I’m here for it! I’m excited to see Buck explore his bisexuality with Tommy, and learn about himself through this relationship. I’m also excited to learn more about Tommy! And if they don’t end up being very long term, I really hope that they stay friends.
I’m really enjoying being into a ship that’s canon for once, it makes me really happy. I don’t think there’s ever been a ship (apart from these ones) that I’ve been into that have even had a remote chance of becoming cannon (Stucky… my first love!)
Anyway, I digress, the writers and the actors KNOW these characters, we know that if something felt off it the story, they’d want to do right by the characters. We know for a fact how much Oliver and Ryan love Buck and Eddie, and if it feels right and true to them Buddie will happen. If it doesn’t feel right to put them in a romantic relationship, to me, it’s fine because regardless we have these two men with an absolutely beautiful and meaningful friendship, and I’m always here for that!
All of this to say, all this fighting about “who’s right for who” isn’t doing anyone any good. I mean we’re all in this fandom because we love this show RIGHT!? Being on platforms like this is meant to bring us TOGETHER!
SO WHY THE HELL ARE SOME OF US TRYING TO RIP EACH OTHER APART BECAUSE WE HAVE DIFFERENT OPINIONS ON A DAMN SHIP!?
Everyone is entitled to their own opinions after all… so yeah, share your opinion, just don’t be rude about it. Putting someone down because they disagree with you doesn’t make you right… it just makes you mean. It scares people away, maybe makes them feel like they’re not safe in this community. I’ve seen it a couple times too, with myself and others, being afraid to make a post because of the possibility of hate.
In my experience you’re meant to feel safe in a fandom, in a community because you’re sharing your love for something with others who love it just as much as you do! We should love each other like we love these characters!
To conclude, all I need is for our boys to be happy, that’s really all we should care about here anyway. It shouldn’t necessarily matter who’s dating who, as long as they’re HAPPY! I’m really just along for the ride, I’m here for whatever they decide to do with Buddie and/or BuckTommy in the future. Buck and Eddie are my loves, and we barely know Tommy, but I’m starting to like him already, as long as they’re happy, I am too!
Thank you for reading my TedTalk…
Sorry if it doesn’t sound completely coherent, stringing words together isn’t always my strong suit…🫠
#911 abc#9-1-1#buddie#bucktommy#tevan#eddie diaz#evan buckley#tommy kinard#time to rant#buck and eddie#I really love this show
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Alright y'all finale time. Let's see what they bring to the plate
Episode 6, What happens in Reno, stays in Reno
Gonna miss seeing this cute little intro. 😢
"Peek-a-boo" STOP DBDBFJC
Airpods actually are useful for once , even with them falling out of your ear for a dramatic reveal
Wanda....what is your deal girl
WHOA. Okay, well that was really fucking cool 👏
Fucking Portal 2 reference but set to 200
Wonder where they went after the rings connected?....
Oh right...the bowling tournament is still happening.
Gary and Dylan are a blessing with their commentary at least.
....and Knuckles is not present again. Geez, I feel his absence. Is he just back in the hotel room again???
As soon as I said that, we see him again XD. I was half-expecting him to order a beer with that other guy.
Damn, that is a huge loaf of bread, which I didn't even know they sold there surprisingly.
"A little bit annoying"? Nah man, she got on my damn nerves
Yay, bowling is over. Can we get back to fight, please-.....oh, there we go.
This is a reference to Sonic 1 isn't it? The power of friendship bringing these kids back from the brink of death with a power boost?
Yep. But more of a "I finally have a home" type of deal
YES BABY, FLAMES OF DISASTER TIME!
Oops, that guy is dead now right? Cause....yikes
Wait hang on a minute....1974? That was 50 years ago from today's date-ARE YOU SERIOUS? WAS THAT A SHADOW MENTION OR SOMETHING ELSE CONNECTED TO THAT??
Is it over??
Aw, good on Knuckles. He finally found his jam. It's become my jam, too.
Also, those agents are probably dead, right? There was nothing after the credits to show that they were still alive and were probably somewhere else. So, yeah those bitches are straight up cooked.
Are we not going to see Maddie or the boys again? Really? After all of that, we don’t get to see them at least one more time and have Knuckles interact with them? No? Wow, okay.
Well, it wasn’t too bad. Felt kinda sort tbh. I'll give it a...solid 8. Yeah, it feels like an 8 to me.
(Episode 1) (Episode 2) (Episode 3) (Episode 4) (Episode 5)
#what happens in reno stays in reno#knuckles spoilers#knuckles series#knuckles show#knuckles#scu#sonic movie
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could I ask for Tanzanite with Atin for your followers event? Maybe about how theyre both on the quiet side but know each other well enough to pick up on what the other is thinking or feeling without having to say anything.. Thank you!
What It Means To Love
Summary: You’ve always been on the quiet side, preferring to listen, rather than to talk. Luckily, Atin refuses to let you diminish yourself for the sake of others.
Pairing: Atin Skirata x F!Reader
Word Count: 760
Prompt: Tanzanite - Perceptive Love
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: Thank you for your request! I hope this is close to what you wanted.
You enjoy spending time with your old friends from college.
You do.
Somehow you’ve managed to keep your friendship with them through college and then continued afterward when you all became actual adults.
But sometimes, just sometimes, you feel like maybe they’re not as good friends to you as you like to think.
Like now. When they’re making plans and are kind of…forcing the plans on you. You don’t have the time to go on this trip with them to Naboo, you have way too much work to do, plus you know your friends, and you know that their plans likely involve you taking care of their kids while they go drinking.
But every time you open your mouth to say something, you get talked over.
You’re beginning to think that they think that if they just don’t let you talk, then you’ll have to come on the trip with them.
Panicked, you turn your gaze to Atin, who’s leaning against the counter listening to the conversation with a scowl on his face that’s slowly becoming more and more severe. He catches the look on your face, and he straightens, and sets his styrofoam cup on the counter.
“You realize that she can’t go, right?” He interrupts the conversation.
Your friends turn to look at him, “What, you’re not going to let her?” The ringleader of the group demands snottily.
Atin picks his cup back up and takes a sip of his caf, looking bored out of his mind, “No. But because I actually listen when she talks, I know that she has a massive meeting taking place over the week that you’re planning for your trip. Which means she’s not going to be able to watch your…precious angels,” there’s something odd in his voice when he says that, “When you go to the spring festival on Naboo.”
“That’s not fair!” Your friends turn accusing glares on you, “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I tried, you kept talking over me-”
You might as well be talking to a brick wall for all the impact your words have.
“You’re content spending the spring here?” Your oldest friend asks, oldest in the sense that she’s nearly 20 years older than the rest of the women in the room, “With him?”
You tilt your head and your gaze drifts to Atin, his expression is carefully blank. It’s a familiar look. One that he adopts whenever people make comments about him.
And people do make comments about him.
You silently push your chair back and get to your feet, “Atin? Are you ready to go?”
His gaze lands on your face, and a small smile lifts his lips, “After you, cyare.”
You wait for him to walk over to you, and then the pair of you leave the apartment. Atin leads you down the stairs and as soon as you’re outside properly, he takes your hand in his, “You didn’t have to do that, cyar’ika.” He says lightly as he brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to your knuckles.
“Her tone bothered you.” You reply, “And me.”
“I’m used to it.”
You frown at him, “That doesn’t make it better, Atin.” You bump his shoulder, “Thanks. For speaking up for me.”
“Yeah, well…it was obvious that you weren’t going to do it.” He releases your hand and drapes his arm over your shoulder, “You need better friends.”
“I have better friends. I have you.”
“Oh? Is all we are? Friends?” He grins at you, “Cause I definitely don’t kiss my friends the way that I kiss you.”
You roll your eyes, “You’re my best friend and the love of my life. There, better?”
“Mm, much.” He lightly tugs you to the side, and bumps his forehead against yours, “I hope you know that you’re my best friend and the love of my life too.”
“Well, it’s not like you’ve ever been shy about that.” You tease lightly.
“Yeah, well…my brothers deserve to have you shoved in their faces.”
You giggle, “I’m sure that they don’t.”
He just grins and plucks a recently bloomed flower from where it’s coiled around a fence, and tucks it behind your ear, “There, a flower almost as pretty as you.”
You duck your head shyly, “Thank you.”
Atin’s grin grows, and he lightly taps your chin to lift your head, before he leans in and brushes his lips against yours once, twice. And then he catches your lips in a proper kiss.
And, really, how can you do anything other than lose yourself in him.
#star wars#tcw#vodika-vibes 500 followers celebration#atin skirata x reader#atin x reader#star wars fanfiction#x reader fanfiction#f!reader fic#answered asks
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