#hazel writes
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what's done is done
“Obi-Wan, right?”
Obi-Wan cleared his throat, voice and pants tight as he said, “That’s right.”
Maybe he started to understand why Satine jumped on the boy. He had heads turn to him just by entering the room. Despite this, Anakin only had eyes on him.
Too angry to talk to his ex, Obi-Wan seeks out the man she was cheating on him with for some answers. But upon meeting an angel, Obi-Wan decides to have him all for himself.
Rating: E
Wordcount: 4,920
Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Tags: Modern AU, Top Obi-Wan, Bottom Anakin, infidelity (not between Obi-Wan/Anakin), Past Obi-Wan/Satine
Read on ao3 or down below
Obi-Wan was considering simply changing his number at this point. For the past two weeks straight he’d been receiving endless voicemails and texts from his ex, tones ranging from white hot fury to sobbing apologies. If it wasn’t her, then it was her sister, living a country away, yet with a transcontinental persistence. And if not those two, it was their mutual friends, trying to get Obi-Wan to hear her out.
But Obi-Wan did, or at least he thought he did. The day Satine suddenly insisted on an open relationship, after five years of monogamy, Obi-Wan heard her out. He wasn’t against open relationships as a concept, it was just so out of character for her to want it.
They were each other’s first love in college, ending when she moved back to her home country, then reconnected fifteen years later now that she worked in the states. She was still looking for a place to live when Obi-Wan offered his spare room. Being roommates lasted no more than a few weeks as they rekindled their relationship. It was like they were eighteen again, and no one around them mattered. She was the only person Obi-Wan had his eyes on, and he swore the same for her.
Her question, however, was further proof of her odd behavior over the last month. She was coming home later than normal, but said summer was always the busy months for work. When she was home, her eyes were glued to her phone when she would always turn it off during non-work hours as to not distract her. In case she had an important email or call, she would say.
And not that it should matter, but their sex life had come to a screeching halt. Before she would playfully seduce him to take her anywhere in the condo. Now, he considered nights where he was able to hold her in bed as close to intimacy as possible. If he tried to seduce her first, she’d smile and let him get handsy over her clothes, and that’s as far as they’d go.
He also didn’t want to think that some days she came back smelling different. She had a particular floral perfume she sprayed on every morning yet somehow came home either muted, or masculine, like body spray. The cheap stuff that young male college summer interns would wear, because that’s all they could afford.
He didn’t want to believe it. She couldn’t, not after all this time. She wasn’t the type to cheat.
At least until she asked for the open relationship.
Maybe if they discussed this when they first got together. Maybe if she didn’t stare down every intern or receptionist that looked his way like they were a challenge. Maybe if she was actually working longer hours and had a coworker cover for her, instead of finding out through her colleagues she was leaving every day at five. Then maybe he would have heard her out.
When he said he couldn’t give that to her on top of her secretive behavior, she began shouting. And awful things were said. Obi-Wan regretted it too, which was why he was surprised not two weeks later she was begging for them to talk.
There was a part of him that kept saying she was cheating, and he couldn’t let that go. If she was sleeping with someone else before their break up then asking for an open relationship was just to alleviate her guilt. After all these years, for as long as they've known each other, she tried to have both him and a side piece, rather than honestly communicating in the first place.
He couldn’t even guess who she’d be having the affair with. All her coworkers said she was out by five and was seen alone in her car. She had other usual spots, such as the restaurant across her office where she frequented for lunch, or the mall strip on weekends where they would sometimes go on a stroll. Any of those places could have had her other partner.
He would have given up. He already broke up with her and didn’t want to talk. Best take his losses, five rekindling years down the drain, and just move on.
That was until he ran into Padme Amidala, Satine’s coworker, while he was waiting in line for Starbucks near his workplace. She had to have sought him out since their office was on the opposite side of the city.
“His name is Anakin Skywalker.” She said after sitting him down, fingers picking at the cardboard heat protector of her coffee. “He was our IT intern. His internship ended and that’s when they started. I’m sorry Obi-Wan.”
He and Padme were simply acquaintances, never having the chance to truly sit down and talk as they were doing now. He had been ignoring her texts too, assuming she was trying to get them back together. She didn’t have to come to him with this so despite the anger boiling in his chest, he thanked her for telling him the truth. It was more than what his own ex was willing to do when confronted.
He knew the name of Anakin Skywalker. During the spring, his longtime friend Mace Windu would mutter his name like a swear word. Skywalker was the CompSci kid with a sharp tongue whenever he sat down for Mace's Philosophy lesson, a required course for undergrad students. Meaning Anakin had to have only been in his early twenties.
A quick search of his name popped up his LinkedIn. Name, age, and public resume were all on display.
Anakin Skywalker, twenty-one, University of Coruscant. Last place of work: IT at Coruscant Senate.
Satine went and fucked a twenty-one year old.
Did she want to relive college that badly she had to take on a student lover, from the university just down the street from his work? That was rubbing salt in the wound.
What did this Anakin know about her anyway? Why would he go for someone much older when Padme was there? Satine was a beauty, and time made her better, but the age difference was large. She went to prey on a college undergrad, and he probably stayed with her for the money.
Thought that didn’t explain why she was suddenly begging Obi-Wan back. Trouble in paradise perhaps? He could ask her, but he had a feeling she’d just try to fix their relationship rather than admit the truth of it all. Did she even know Padme was the one who ratted her out?
He wasn’t going to her. Instead, he found Anakin’s public instagram account and messaged him there. A much more casual approach than his LinkedIn. It was a long shot, and he was sure his message would fall into the request folder.
After sending, Obi-Wan wondered what his plan of action was. Why did he need to see who this kid was? Both profiles were public, he could see while he now worked on the campus computer department his real interest were in cars and video games. He had a younger step sister that always commented on his posts, and he had a prosthetic arm, issued by Republic Tech. It was part of their durasteel brand, a sleek black and gold finish. Some photos, if Anakin was wearing short sleeves, his arm was in full view. In others it was covered by a glove.
He was a handsome kid from his photos, Obi-Wan would give him that. But nothing on his socials screamed any common interest with Satine. How did these two even get together?
The thought swirled in his head, then anger grew inside him because it didn’t matter. She chose to cheat and here he was now, sitting in his condo, by himself, staring at a screen.
Hey man.
Sorry.
Yeah that was me.
Fuck it’s awkward like this.
Can we meet? There’s this bar I go to.
Let me buy you a drink and explain.
At least the kid could legally drink. She didn’t cradle rob that young.
They scheduled to meet Friday evening. Obi-wan had a presentation later in the afternoon for work while Anakin had a lab that ended around the same time. And while the bar was full and noisy it was enough of a distraction to keep Obi-Wan calm, maybe less likely to throw an outburst at the young man for sleeping with her.
Anakin’s instagram photos didn’t do him justice. Because when he received the message ‘just walked in’, Obi-Wan was met with the face of an angel.
Young and tall, his face was rounded and cute, soft like blemishes could never exist on him. Blue eyes glowing from the crowd, and dark curly hair Obi-Wan wanted to run his hands through. Anakin licked his lips as he scanned the room, before checking his phone again for Obi-Wan’s message, indicating which part of the bar he’s in. Soon Anakin was approaching him, almost tripping on another patron, before taking the seat across. “Obi-Wan, right?”
Oh, he liked the way he said his name.
Obi-Wan cleared his throat, voice and pants tight as he said, “That’s right.”
Maybe he started to understand why Satine jumped on the boy. He had heads turn to him just by entering the room. Despite this, Anakin only had eyes on him.
“First off, I’m so sorry. You need to know I had no idea she had a boyfriend.”
If all the anger was dissipated when Anakin entered, Obi-Wan now felt a wave of tranquility when he spoke. His voice was deep with a shy tone to it. He spoke in a slow drawl that he could listen to for hours. “Ah, it’s quite alright. I just wanted to know how you two came to be.”
“Can I get you that drink first?” He asked, head ducked slightly with a smile. “Think it’d be easier with it.”
A drink would have made the conversation easier, but staring at the boy was already doing it for him. “Thank you, I’d like that.”
Anakin jumped out of his seat, weaving his way to the bar and grabbing the tender’s attention. Suddenly he could no longer be too angry at Satine for cradle robbing, because he already had so many thoughts of what the two were doing. Thoughts that were quickly replaced with Obi-Wan and Anakin instead.
And on the boy’s instagram profile, he indicated bi. So it couldn’t hurt to fantasize.
Despite the crowds, Anakin managed to return ten minutes later with two large pints of Guinness. They clinked their glasses together, Anakin only taking sips as Obi-Wan drank to at least half. When he put the glass down, Anakin stared at him with wide, doe like eyes. Adorable.
“So… uh. Just to be clear I approached her first. Thought she was pretty and asked her out to coffee. She was flirting with me the whole time so I didn’t assume she was taken.”
Obi-Wan took in his words, a little surprised Anakin was the one initiated just because of his shy demeanor. “How many dates did you two go on?”
Anakin scoffed. “One, if coffee counts. Once my internship ended she was mostly in my bed—apartment. But she never spent the night, and hey if she only wanted to have fun I get it.”
He paused to take a longer sip. “Ah, then I heard her talking on the phone...with you. Saying how she’s working late and couldn’t make it home for dinner.”
Obi-Wan winced, remembering that phone call exactly. It wasn’t a special night, but work for him ended early that day since a client had to reschedule, so he decided to cook a nice meal. Just as he pulled dessert out of the oven, she phoned in saying she wouldn’t make it on time, and to just wrap it up for later.
“I should have asked her then but I didn’t. I thought she could have been…well I don’t know who she could have been talking to. But she suddenly showed up at my door, saying we should go away for a weekend. She seemed upset, and when I asked her what happened--”
“You realized you were the other guy.”
Anakin sighed but nodded. “Look, I don’t mess around like that. I’m not gonna be the guy who ruins someone’s relationship. I’m sorry she did that to you. And,” with a resigned look, he continued. “I do feel bad, for both of you. I uh, take it she left your home, right?”
Obi-Wan grimaced, one of his last words to her being if she can’t commit to their relationship then she had no right to be in their bed. He had meant to mean he couldn’t go to bed with her, but didn’t correct her when she packed her essentials and left. Padme all but confirmed that’s where she was staying for the time being.
“She asked to stay with me, and I let her ‘till Padme was able to get her place ready. We didn’t sleep together,” He added quickly, “Just, you know. Let her take the bed. She left once Padme’s was good to go.”
Even after being used, Anakin kindly housed her. A new guilt crept in Obi-Wan, so angry from their fight he didn’t think what if Padme couldn’t take her? Where would she have gone last minute? A hotel maybe, but that’d be expensive in the long term.
He could have been much nicer, even if he wanted to end it.
“Thank you, for doing that.”
Anakin shrugged. “No problem. Sorry again. For all of it.”
With a dry chuckle, Obi-Wan raised his beer glass to Anakin. “How about we stop feeling sorry? What’s done is done.”
He was met back with the cutest smile, and Anakin’s glass clinking with his. “What’s done is done.”
Obi-Wan finished his drink with that toast, while Anakin’s glass barely reached a quarter empty. His tanned face was forming a drunk blush, with the way his cheeks and nose turned a rosy red. A lightweight.
“Would you like another?” Anakin offered.
“I should be good on this, though if you can’t finish yours, I can do it for you.”
Without hesitation Anakin slid his drink over, their fingers barely touching as Obi-Wan grabbed the glass. “So uh, what do you do?” Anakin asked, his eyes following the glass’s movement, from the table all the way to Obi-Wan’s lips. “Like, if she’s a politician...”
“Well, not in politics necessarily.” He said with a light chuckle. “Lawyer, I’m on a team with Republic Industries.”
Anakin’s eyes lit up at the familiar name of the largest tech company founded in Coruscant. With benefits of six figures, unlimited PTO, and holiday bonuses, it was every person’s dream in tech to work for them. Students fight for the secretary and personal assistant intern positions, and their law department was in just much demand. Obi-Wan sweet talked his way in when they had almost gone with another candidate, hence earning him the nickname ‘Negotiator’. Or silver-tongue depending how tipsy everyone was at the bar.
“No way, you work there? What do you with legal? You must help draft up a lot of NDAs huh?”
It may have been the alcohol, but Obi-Wan was taken aback by Anakin’s interest in his career. More so than Satine ever was, since she always asked why he didn’t go into Judiciary law to be closer to her work.
“I do.” He said, and to test the waters, he pushed forward to say, “Though, I do kiss and tell.”
When he saw the clear fluster in Anakin’s cheeks, Obi-Wan knew he reeled him right in. The boy was speechless, mouth open with cute little noises to say something, and instead came out jumbled. Anakin’s durasteel fingers drummed against the table, his eyes trying to look at anything except Obi-Wan. But he always fell back on him.
“What if I don’t want you to tell?”
“Oh? Just a kiss then?”
“Kisses, if you’re up for it.”
The bar table was small, only meant for two, and was easy to lean into as he gave Anakin a kiss on his lips. Chaste, Obi-Wan thought, but when he pulled back he knew it was more than a peck on his lips for Anakin.
“My place is just a cab over--”
“Mine is around the block.” Anakin blurted.
Obi-Wan smiled, full teeth on display. “Perfect.”
The walk was a complete blur, they could have teleported for all her knew, because from the bar, Obi-Wan pushed Anakin through his apartment and slammed the door behind him. His coat was on the floor, how rude of himself, as calloused and metal worked on the buttons of his shirt. Though Anakin stood taller than him, he acted much smaller, as if trying to hide his intimidating stance.
Obi-Wan found his own hands in Anakin’s soft hair, and with a light pull tugged at the back, exposing his long neck that needed to be decorated with hickies.
Anakin’s knees buckled under him when Obi-Wan nipped him, first starting soft before biting into his skin, tasting the sweat and the cheap body spray that's been on their pillow for weeks. Anakin was wearing far too many layers, and Obi-Wan was enjoying pulling his clothes off piece by piece.
Moving around the apartment was easy enough: It was only had a studio, twin bed on one wall, his work desk against the window, and a tiny kitchenette. There was a door that was probably to the bathroom, and an unruly drawer with socks and shirts sticking out that must have been his only place to keep his clothes. A true college student indeed, working with the bare minimum.
It should bother him that Satine preferred to spend her nights here when she had a lovely home to return to: the master bedroom with a king size bed and walk in closet, a bathroom with glass doors and a separate tub, her own office space, and a living and dining room for when they hosted their friends.
He had ten times more than what Anakin could afford.
Yet, as Anakin moaned his name, his hand desperately reaching for Obi-Wan’s cock through his pants, Obi-Wan decided Anakin’s place was perfect.
Anakin was perfect.
And he only proved that more when the boy dropped to his knees, grinning happily now that he had his prize fully out. Obi-Wan was unashamed how hard he was for him, knowing that he stained his own underwear with how much pre-come covered his cock.
With his hand still in Anakin’s hair, Obi-Wan guided his head right where he had to be. “Go on darling, I can see you want to.”
“Thank you.” Anakin said, and if not for his better self-control, Obi-Wan would have come right then and there. How lucky was he to find this boy eager to suck cock, and thank him for it?
Anakin’s mouth was hot and wet and just as perfect as the rest of him. Wanting to please, Anakin tried to take as much of his length at once, tears forming in his eyes either from the stretch, or his worry he couldn’t do it. Obi-Wan released his grip, gently petting his head and his cheeks instead.
“It’s okay darling, take your time.”
Anakin pulled off with a wet pop, licking his pink lips and looked up at him, arousal still high. “Sorry, can you sit on my bed? It’ll be easier.”
Just one hop and he was on Anakin’s bed. If there was one thing that didn’t look hand-me-down or from a thrift store it was his mattress, which still had spring to it. His bed covers, that was actually neatly made, was printed black with night stars.
He spread his legs, allowing Anakin to sit between them as he started suckling on the head of his cock. Obi-Wan found his hand returning to the soft curly locks, praising him with touch as he enjoyed the best head he’s had in a long time. Anakin took him slower, playing around with his slit to taste more of his pre-come, then working his way down the rest of his long shaft. Obi-Wan was not one for erotic pictures on his phone, always found the idea distasteful. Until now, when he wanted to capture this moment forever. The perfect boy, kneeling between him and pleasing him, just as he pleased his partner before. Except now this boy was his. His to be warmed and stuff, and thank him later for it.
Anakin didn’t even seem to care of his own arousal as his hand stayed on Obi-Wan’s thigh, and his prosthesis arm pushed on the bed for support. His eyes were closed, almost dreamlike, and Obi-Wan’s cock was just something to occupy his mouth.
Now used to the stretch, Anakin swallowed the rest of him down, and Obi-Wan threw his head back with a groan. “Oh Anakin, Anakin you’re so good.”
Anakin took his sweet time to pull off once again, leaving a string of saliva still connecting them. “I am?”
“Yes,” He said, noticing how Anakin glowed with his praise. “Come up here, I need to have you.”
“Have me how?” Anakin’s voice was breathless, yet his smile was trying to convey coy.
“On my face, let me taste you too.”
Anakin choked on air at Obi-Wan’s request, one he was not going to deny. Once Obi-Wan was lying flat on the bed, Anakin had his legs between Obi-Wan's head, spreading his cheeks for easier access. From here Obi-Wan could also see his cute cock and balls, much smaller compared to him. “You can pull my hair too, if you’d like.”
That was his only warning to Anakin as he dove in, tasting the most intimate parts of him. Anakin grabbed his hair, keeping his head in place as he let out a shout. “Oh, oh! Obi-Wan!”
His whines were music to his years, breathless and vocal yet unable to tell him what he wanted. So he stretched him first with his tongue, while he teased his finger alongside.
He felt Anakin move above him, almost falling over to the side when a bottle was nudged between his hands. Obi-Wan stopped what he was doing, smiling when he saw he was handed a bottle of lube. He opened the cap, squeezing a generous amount, and then breached him with his fingers.
“Oh fuck, fuck Obi-Wan—your hands aaaah--,” Anakin was rocking into his touches, his cock stiffened and bouncing and balls aching for more.
“Gotta prepare you dear, make this so pleasurable for you.” It didn’t take long to find Anakin’s prostate, purposely teasing the sensitive gland that him leaking onto Obi-Wan’s face, and he licked Anakin’s pre-come like it was syrup. Sweet, just like him.
“I’m ready, I’m ready!”
“No you’re not, you know how big I am.” Obi-Wan warned, adding a third finger. He was so tight around his fingers alone, and while he didn’t want to hurt the boy his cock ached to be inside him.
“I do, and I want it! I want it now!”
Without thinking, Obi-Wan slapped his ass, earning a whine from Anakin. So he did it again, watching Anakin’s cock pulse and leak with more come. “Naughty boy, let me take care of you.”
“You are,” Anakin reassured him, looking down with a shy smile. “Please, fuck me already.”
“Have you had a cock like this in you before?”
Anakin bit his lower lip, a lie on his lips before he admitted the truth. “Just a toy. It was smaller than you.”
“Oh darling, we’ll go slow. We have all night.”
Maneuvering on the small bed was awkward, but he was able to get Anakin on his back, legs spread as far as he could while his cheek was turned into his pillow. Yet his eyes peeked to Obi-Wan, waiting for his next move.
“We could have all morning too,” Anakin said, voice almost muffled by the fabric. But Obi-Wan caught it. He wanted to hear everything Anakin had to say.
“The morning too, then,” Obi-Wan promised as he slowly pushed in.
Anakin’s entrance was tight as he expected, and despite his whimpers of protest Anakin tried to meet his movements, weakly, with his hips. He wanted to take Obi-Wan, and who was he to deny him? Bit by bit he got himself in, until he’s somehow fully inside him. Anakin’s heat was unlike anything Obi-Wan’s even felt before. His mouth, his ass, were made to take cock. He wondered, by the look of the boy’s blissed out face, if Anakin was done chasing skirts.
“Move,” Anakin demanded, as Obi-Wan was taking the time to admire just how right they fit together.
Obi-Wan bent down, taking Anakin for a deep kiss. He pushed his tongue inside, wanting to feel Anakin’s slide alongside his. And they stayed like that for a little longer, leisurely exploring Anakin’s mouth while is cock was warmed by his hole. He groaned when Anakin squeezed around him, already impatient from his teasing.
So he commanded Anakin’s wish, pulling out just until the tip, and then slamming himself back in. Anakin arched his back, his hand clawing down Obi-Wan’s back as the older man thrust inside him with the intensity Anakin needed. The mattress box squeezed under them, Obi-Wan used the wall as leverage to give himself more room to move, and under him, Anakin was singing like an angel.
His pretty lashes gathered dewdrops, his lips swollen begging to be kissed, even if that meant swallowing all his sounds, and now Obi-Wan could see the bites and bruises forming around his neck and collar. He was the perfect, debauched image.
Obi-Wan thrust into him again, watching Anakin bounce and whimper his name. Satine never saw him like his, he’s sure. Never really appreciated his beauty as Obi-Wan is now. She had her chance with Obi-Wan, had it with Anakin. Now she’s out, and they have each other.
Obi-Wan would be embarrassed how easily he was going to come inside him, so he wrapped his hand around Anakin’s cock and helped him first. The reaction was instant, Anakin throwing his head back and a scream, and Obi-Wan wanted him to keep screaming until his voice was raw. With a few strokes Anakin came across his chest, squeezing so delightfully around Obi-Wan’s own cock, keeping him locked in place to finally come inside him too.
He watched as Anakin’s face relaxed into a smile, his eyes watery, body over sensitive, yet his legs kept Obi-Wan trapped inside him.
When he finally pulled out, Obi-Wan felt his tired cock twitch again with interest as he watched his come flow out of Anakin’s used hole. There were no thoughts about using a condom, but that was for future him to worry about. For now, they tried to fit together in Anakin’s small bed, and found that having him in his arms, with Anakin’s head resting on his chest, was the perfect position.
Anakin’s dark curls tickled under Obi-Wan’s nose, and he noted just how nice he smelled. He kissed the top of his head and rubbed his back up and down. He thought Anakin had dozed off after a bit, just as Obi-Wan was feeling tired too, until Anakin shifted, sitting up slightly to ask: “Is it okay if I take this off? It’s just more comfortable to sleep without it.”
Obi-Wan kissed his cheek. “Darling, don’t have to ask me.”
Anakin shrugged. “I know, but some people find it...weird.”
Obi-Wan couldn’t help but wonder if Satine fell under that. Instead of asking, he offered to help him take it off. Anakin politely declined, but showed him how before placing it on his nightstand and snuggling up right back in his place.
Obi-Wan contemplated if he should go. How did one-night stands work nowadays? Anakin teased him to stay until morning but that could have easily been the lust talking.
Anakin rubbed his face between Obi-Wan’s hairy chest. “So,” he said while stifling a yawn, “do you take coffee or tea for breakfast?”
“Tea,” Obi-Wan answered quickly.
“Hm, good thing I keep some around. The bagged stuff though.”
“That’s okay, I’ll take it.”
So that answered that, and it helped Obi-Wan settled into bed more. He pulled Anakin’s covers over them as the air grew colder. They were sticky with each other’s fluids but he didn’t have the energy to clean up.
Maybe it was still the high from an intense orgasm, but Obi-Wan couldn’t help but think even now they still fit together perfect. What kind of circumstances, a heartbreaking one, led him to this beautiful boy who called his name as he came? Anakin, who was so perfect on his knees and on his back, he almost could not believe he slept with Satine. The thought actually caused him to chuckle, startling Anakin.
“What’s so funny?”
“Sorry dear, I simply could not imagine you topping my ex.”
With a shy turn of his head, Anakin mumbled, “Well I was never on top…”
“Ah,”
“Hey,” Anakin lightly swatted his chest. “If I hadn’t asked her out, she wouldn’t have cheated on you. Then you wouldn’t have tracked me down.”
“So I should thank her for this?”
“If you want.” Anakin said with a shrug, “but I don’t want to think of her right now.”
“Good.” Obi-Wan said, holding Anakin closer. “Dream of me, then tomorrow I’ll make whatever you want a reality.”
#obikin#obikin fanfics#star wars obikin#anakin skywalker#obi-wan kenobi#obi wan kenobi#aniobi#obiani#star wars fanfiction#hazel rambles obikin#hazel writes
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lest we forget - chapter 9 preview
“Well, now…” Vox mutters. Lucifer chuckles. She’s more likable than him – like Husk said, maybe more of a bitch but at least more honest. In the last thirty seconds of the conversation, he already likes her more than Vox for the last hour. He leans back onto his cane and looks between them. “You aren’t filming anything today, correct, Velvette?”
“Not today,” Velvette says with a nod.
“Alright, then,” Vox says, turning to Lucifer. “I believe that concludes our tour, Your Majesty! If you have any questions, or want to see anything again, please do let me know, and we can revisit.”
Lucifer frowns at him. He glances towards the stairs, gaze lingering before returning to Vox. “I was under the impression that there were three of you,” he says, placing two hands on his cane. “That isn’t everything.”
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He Is
Summary: Sister and Nihil have a meeting and Copia finds out something surprising
Warnings: None
Pairing: None
Main Masterlist
In Sister's dimly lit office, the air was thick with tension as she confronted Nihil, her former partner in the Ministry. Little did they know, Cardinal Copia, their supposed secret love child, was eavesdropping just outside the door.
"Don't you dare doubt why I left you!" Sister's voice carried a sharp edge.
Nihil, visibly taken aback, whispered, "Why did you leave?"
Sister's eyes flashed with hurt and anger. "Because you kissed another woman right in front of me!" Her words dripped with venom, causing Nihil to shrink back.
“It was just part of the show, Seestor," Nihil tried to dismiss her accusation with a wave of his hand.
“Bullshit!" Sister's scowl deepened, her fists clenched at her sides.
But Nihil pressed on, sensing there was more to her departure. "There must have been another reason. Tell me."
With a heavy sigh, Sister finally revealed the truth. "I was going to tell you that night, but I found out I was pregnant a few days earlier. When I saw you kiss that other woman, it shattered my heart. I couldn't bear to stay, so I left the Ministry to raise our child alone. And I raised him well. In fact, he just ascended to become Papa."
Nihil's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Are you saying... Cardinal Copia is my son?"
Sister nodded solemnly, her gaze piercing through the door where Copia stood, his hand over his mouth in shock, realizing the truth of his parentage.
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i haven't even written the prologue fully yet but am literally writing the scene which is gonna be somewhere in the last 10 chapters or smth help💀
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hi everyone!
it's been a long time since i posted any writing, but i wanted to share a little fic that i wrote as a very belated birthday present for the amazing @cosmicghostie. it's got a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, and some quality brotherly bonding time between thumbs (my oc) and sparks (@cosmicghostie's oc)!
i'm linking some other lucky batch fics for those interested in reading more about these two bros!
a little thumbs fic by @just-another-dreamerr
some sparks backstory by @just-another-dreamerr
a wee brotherly bonding fic by @cosmicghostie
a day in the life of thumbs fic by yours truly :P
and finally, the lucky batch masterlist (there are so many good ones on here)!!
i'm also tagging lucky batch because i miss y'all!
@cosmicghostie @just-another-dreamerr @monako-jinn-stories @letsunity @ahsokasshoto @maygalodon @ct-69-420 @lusiawonder @longearedowlfromouterspace @lynnpaper @namesmox @generaltano
Warmth
The day Sparks and Thumbs became best bros
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Thumbs watched as the most recent addition to the batch sat slumped against the wall of the hull, one leg drawn to his chest and the other lazily stretched out in front of him. It was the most relaxed he had ever seen his newest brother. His curly hair, slightly shorter than Thumbs’ own, swayed slightly in the breeze that blew in from the lowered ramp, his eyes reflecting the distant city lights that flickered like stars on the dark horizon.
Thumbs hadn’t gotten the chance to speak to his stoic brother since he had been suddenly sent to the batch. His vod was quiet, but he knew it wasn't for a lack of things to say. As the squad’s strategist, he of all people understood that it was a purposeful silence – a clandestine tool used to sever himself from the other batchers like an infected limb, sparing them from a part of himself that he must’ve believed was dangerous – and Thumbs wanted nothing more than to stitch this wounded mentality back together.
Which is why, while the rest of the batch were out on a supply run, he decided to finally approach his new brother.
“Hey! It’s Sparks, right?”
The clone in question remained arrested in place and for a second Thumbs wondered whether or not he had even heard him.
He was about to ask again when Sparks tilted his head slightly, silently observing Thumbs from his position on the floor. After performing what appeared to be a brief visual analysis, he turned back towards the open ramp, nodding his head in response.
Thumbs smiled. Progress.
“So you decided to hang back?” Thumbs asked, keeping his tone light in an attempt to ease his obviously-skeptical brother. Undeterred by the lack of response, he continued.
“Yeah, I get it. I know we all seem pretty crazy right now, but I promise that once you get to know us…” He paused, reconsidering the truth of his statement. “Well, you’ll probably think we’re even crazier.”
Sparks huffed in what seemed like amusement, the sound bringing immediate warmth to the frigid air around them. Thumbs grinned, taking the welcome gesture as an invitation to sit beside him.
The two sat in silence for a while, listening to the songs of nearby insects hidden from sight, before Sparks finally spoke.
“Why are you here?”
For a moment, Thumbs thought he was referring to his choice to sit next to him, before realizing he meant the reason he wasn’t out on the mission with the others.
“Ah, I don’t know,” Thumbs shrugged. “Didn’t seem like they needed me on this one.”
Sparks’ gaze flicked towards him briefly before focusing back on the vast space in front of them.
“You’re the strategist?”
“Yeah,” Thumbs sighed. “In theory, at least.”
“Seems weird to place a strategist with this batch.”
Thumbs knew he was right – Sparks was only confirming what he himself had thought many times before – but the comment still twinged at something buried deep within him that had never been vocalized.
“I… chose to be here. And I don’t regret it. Not for a single second.”
He immediately regretted his brusqueness as Sparks’ posture once again constricted, his mouth drawing into a thin line. So much for keeping the tone light.
The uncomfortable silence that followed was thankfully interrupted when a small animal appeared at the base of the Clover’s ramp. Thumbs watched in awe as Sparks beckoned it with a few tender snaps, the furry creature immediately obeying and snuggling up to his side. With an unexpected softness, Sparks ran two fingers down the creature’s spine, chuckling when it chirped in response. However, just as suddenly as the animal had appeared, it slipped away again, scurrying back into the night.
“Huh,” Thumbs said, having observed the strange encounter in silence. “Never seen one of those before.”
Sparks shrugged. “They’re pretty common. Saw a few the last time I was here.”
“Oh.” Thumbs cataloged the new piece of information. “You’ve traveled a lot then?”
Sparks nodded stiffly.
“You should tell that to Cypher. He loves talking about that kinda stuff.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Thumbs fiddled with the hem of his shirt, unwilling to let the conversation slip away again, but unsure how exactly to proceed. So, he asked the first question that came to mind.
“What’s your favorite planet?”
“Favorite planet?” Sparks repeated incredulously.
Thumbs cringed, suddenly feeling as small as the padawans under Sparks' intense stare. For him, navigating conversations could sometimes be like navigating the battlefield – but just like in war, he had no choice but to march on.
“I think mine’s Lothal. I’ve only been there once, but it was beautiful. No water in sight – just solid earth and sun.”
Anyone who grew up on Kamino knew that the promise of stable land beneath one's feet was a privilege.
“I’m not sure I have one.” Sparks responded after a few seconds, casting his gaze back towards the floor. “But maybe someday… Someplace quiet. With lots of trees.”
His answer came as a surprise. The two of them were soldiers, forever burdened by the weight of armor, and until now, Thumbs believed that Sparks had allowed its harsh plastoid edges and carefully engineered curves to seep into the man beneath. It was a reality for many of those who were consumed by the brutality of war.
But no, he wanted quiet. He wanted to be surrounded by trees; a dream that his very name, sparks, threatened to burn.
He wondered where he got the name Sparks at all…
Thumbs was brought out his thoughts when something fell from his back pocket, clanging loudly onto the durasteel floor.
He scrambled to pick the items up before sheepishly glancing back at Sparks, who had one eyebrow raised questioningly.
“They’re… knitting needles,” he supplied.
“You knit?”
Thumbs nodded, once again surprised by Sparks’ genuine curiosity. Back with his old trainer, his not-so-secret hobby had become the brunt of many unpleasant jokes. He tried not to let it bother him but he eventually found himself knitting less and less, tired of the negative attention. He still kept his needles with him though, a good luck charm of sorts, waiting for the day they would be useful again.
“Well, I used to at least. Not much any more.”
“Why not?”
Thumbs hesitated, not wanting to get into the series of events that forced him to abandon the one activity that brought him joy during the war. He opted for a half-truth instead.
“Well, I... I don’t have any yarn.”
Sparks hummed in response; if he had any doubts about the truth of his batchmate’s statement, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he leaned over, picking up a screw that had come loose from one of the cabinets in the hull.
Thumbs watched as his brother repeatedly turned the small piece of metal between his fingers, and couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about. So far, all he knew about Sparks was that he traveled a lot, had an affinity for trees, was scarily good at befriending wild animals, and was obviously reluctant to open up to any of his brothers – something that he was determined to change.
“So, what was your old squad like?”
Thumbs, eyes clouded by the fog of curiosity, didn’t catch the way Sparks froze, his spine straightening and fists clenching at his sides.
“I mean, I bet no one there kni-”
“What, now you want to talk about my old squad?” Sparks interrupted, his voice quiet, but laced with bitterness. “How about we talk about yours? Why are you really here, strategist?”
Thumbs recoiled, startled not so much by what Sparks had said, but by how he said it. Something profoundly mournful had flashed across his features before disappearing behind a wall of hostility, like lightning lost in the echoes of thunder.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s a bad habit, my brothers are used to it.”
Sparks scuffed his shoe against the floor of the hull.
“I’m not your brother.”
The statement was meant to sting, but Thumbs knew that something else was simmering beneath his apparent anger. He stood, knowing that despite his own instincts, right now what Sparks really needed was space.
“You should try to get some sleep before the others get back,” he said quietly, before heading back in the direction of the bunks.
Thumbs didn’t expect a reply, but spared one last look at his brother before exiting the hull. He watched for a moment as Sparks unconsciously rubbed his hands together, failing to suppress a shiver that coursed through his body.
Must not like the cold, Thumbs thought, before turning and closing the door behind him.
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧
The next morning, Thumbs woke slowly. Getting up was a struggle, his limbs sore from sitting on the durasteel floor the previous night. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he looked around and found that the rest of the batch had returned from their mission, many of them now asleep in their own bunks.
He smiled when Pepper and Foxy passed, returning their friendly waves with his signature thumbs up. Thumbs was grateful to be surrounded by such a supportive batch; he just wished he could’ve gotten through to its newest member.
He knew it was hard, joining a new squad, especially Clone Force 37. They were chaotic at the best of times, disastrous at the worst. But despite their outward ferver, everyone onboard the Clover lived with the weight of their memories – images of relentless training sessions, unforgiving battles, and now-absent friends appearing whenever they dared to close their eyes – and Thumbs knew that for Sparks it was no different.
But he had looked so lost, staring out at the sky the night before, trapped on the teetering threshold of past and present.
And there Thumbs was, asking him about his favorite planet… Stars, he was useless.
The strategist had flopped back onto his bunk, one arm thrown over his face, when a pair of footsteps, quiet but firm, made their way towards him. He didn’t move, assuming it was just another squadmate heading towards the hull, when suddenly the footfalls stopped.
He lifted his arm, finding none other than Sparks standing over him.
“Sparks, I-”
Thumbs’ apology was cut off as a lump of something, something strangely soft, was thrown into his lap.
He looked down and found himself staring at a bundle of bright yellow yarn.
The smile that appeared on Thumbs’ face could’ve outshined any sun; its only competition was the one that materialized on Sparks’ own features as he turned to walk back towards the ship’s hull.
Thumbs didn’t stop smiling even as he pulled out his needles, casting onto them for the first time in years.
It was like not a day had passed since the last time he had knit, his hands moving like magic as they maneuvered the yarn, each stitch falling into their respective place. After a couple hours, the soft material began to take form and soon all that was left to do was weave in the stray strands.
Thumbs looked down at his creation feeling happier than he had in a very long time. He hoped that the pair of bright yellow gloves would help keep his newest vod warm, even when the world felt a bit cold.
And if not, he'd make him a hat too.
#the lucky batch#clone force 37#37th battalion#clone trooper oc#star wars oc#cf37 sparks#cf37 thumbs#star wars#star wars fanfiction#star wars fanfic#hazel writes
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okay but imagine. Thalia Grace, after Jason's death, in a fit of desperation, comes racing to Nico di Angelo, wanting him to summon his ghost, because she just wants to talk to her brother one last time. Before it's too late. Before he reaches Elysium, since the closest she could get to talking to her brother after he goes to the hero's paradise is through dreams, and that wasn't enough for her. Seeing his fragmented soul through dreams is not nearly good enough. She wants the message to reach him. The real him. Not a loomy remnant. She wants to apologise, as she feels her soul being hollowed out with guilt.
She should've looked for Jason, even after their mother told her that he's dead.
She shouldn't have been so busy with the hunters that she would have to cut their brother-sister conversation short.
She should've realised how much her brother craved her attention.
She should've come to the chb meeting that she'd promised jason she'd come to, she shouldn't have made her brother wait like a lost puppy.
The look in jason's eyes when she told him she'd have to leave was etched on to her face. Permanently scarring her soul.
She should've been a better sister. She failed him. She failed to make him feel wanted. She hoped Jason didn't face his death thinking that she didn't need him. Because Gods of Olympus, that would break her.
And she poured all of these gut wrenching thoughts to Nico, who suprisingly listened. Yes. Nico did resent Thalia for being in the hunters of Artemis, the same group that got his sister killed. But listening to Thalia pour her heart out to him, really hit a little too close to home. The daughter of Zeus seemed to echo a young nico, trying aimlessly to summon his sister's ghost to talk to her. They both had the same hollow red eyes, burning with hot tears streaming down, the same crease in the eyebrows, the same flicker of rage over their siblings's murder. At that moment, Thalia Grace looked as unthreatening as the king of all god's daughter could possibly look like.
But Nico was glad, that Thalia, atleast cared about her little brother to this extent. Up until this point, Nico had these lingering doubts if Bianca had really cared about him like this, she had dropped everything to join the hunters after all. Hearing Thalia talk about jason had healed his inner child. Maybe big sisters do think about their younger brothers, no matter how busy they appear to be... So he complied to her wishes. She deserved closure from her brother's death. It would do Jason some good too.
He poured all of his concentration into summoning the son of Jupiter, as Thalia anxiously chewed on her nails, pacing around the murky woods in anticipation. Until a wispy figure with rimmed glasses and neatly cropped hair, appeared in front of them.
"Hello, sis."
Nico di Angelo and Thalia Grace were more or less the same, when it came to wanting to make amends with their deceased sibling.
Except Thalia was the older sister who wanted her younger brother back, And Nico was the younger brother who wanted his older sister back.
#I sobbed while writing this btw#Like no joke. There are droplets of tears in my phone screen#I couldn't sleep last night#bc I just kept thinking abt how Thalia would've felt#To get her younger brother back years later only to lose him again#Tbh id be fucking pissed at the fates lol#But I realised that Thalia and nico really parallel eachother#But the roles are reversed#nico di angelo#thalia grace#jason grace#bianca di angelo#pjo#pjo fandom#pjo hoo#percy jackson#pjo series#pjo hoo toa#pjo toa#annabeth chase#hazel levesque#frank zhang#leo valdez#piper mclean
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something something abt dry humping w hazel while you’re making out …
she doesn’t realize she’s doing it, her hips literally having a mind of their own as her mind is occupied with thoughts about the way you smell and how your hands feel in her hair and how soft your body is beneath her palms.
she’s certainly not thinking about getting herself off from grinding against you, but she doesn’t need to think about that, as it turns out.
you don’t acknowledge it, at least not verbally. your mouth is far too busy pressed against hers, taking in each little gasp or moan she makes against your lips. but your hand grips hazels thigh, and it’s then that she realizes she’s been humping your thigh.
“s…sorry,” she apologizes with a whisper, small and shy and cute. there’s just enough space between you two now for you to see the pink in her cheeks and the redness at the tips of her ears. both only darkens when you coo.
“don’t apologize, haze,” you tell her, your attempt at comfort. it doesn’t necessarily work, your words doing nothing to dull the tint along her skin. but you directing her hips does way more, introducing something else for her pretty little head to focus on.
“if you wanna get yourself off, go ahead.”
she looks apprehensive, but the pressure you have on her hip lets up and she’s grinding the crotch of her boxer shorts against your sweatpants on her own accord.
she rolls her bottom lip between her teeth, clearly fighting off pleasure. “are you sure? what about you?”
you shrug, running both hands through hazels short locks instead of just one. she melts into the touch, the tiniest growl climbing it’s way up her throat as her hips start to speed up.
“make me feel good later. focus on you right now.”
#from the vault#hazelsworld!#hazel callahan x reader#hazel callahan x you#hazel callahan smut#hazel callahan#celeste writes misc#hazeltobr!
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— bloody; hazel callahan x fem!reader
“damn, you really beat those guys up out there.” Hazel mumbled under her breath as she softly pressed the damp rag to your face, wiping off the dry blood. you were sat on the counter of the messy high school bathroom, as Hazel insisted she helped clean the blood off.
you looked down at your swinging feet and smiled before looking back up to meet her eyes. “did i look good doing it?”
Hazel smiled and shook her head, “you looked amazing. you beating up men is possibly the hottest thing i’ve witnessed.” she admitted, now avoiding your gaze when her cheeks tinted pink.
“oh, so i looked hot while doing it?” you asked, your eyebrows raising with a smirk, loving the way she suddenly grew nervous. “y-yeah.”
with a few final drags on your skin, she dried your face off and tossed the rag to the side. “all done,” Hazel mumbled.
“thank you, Haze.” you told her softly. she shrugged and scratched the back of her head. “it’s no problem, really.” she told you, still avoiding looking at you.
hesitantly, you reached forward and grabbed her hand, pulling her closer to the counter so she would look at you again. a pout painted your lips and you nudged her shoulder. “look at me, Haze.”
Hazel finally looked into your eyes, and you took the opportunity to grab her face in her hands and pull her down into your lips. they connected with ease and fit each other perfectly like a puzzle piece.
her hands gripped your waist and pulled you to the very edge of the counter as she kissed you back, keeping you locked in place. you moved yours to wrap around her neck.
your legs loosely wrapped around her waist as the kiss continued, neither of you wanting to pull away from each other. but eventually, Hazel pulled away first to catch her breath.
she kept her head resting on yours, looking deep into your eyes. “you… kissed me,” Hazel whispered, like she couldn’t believe it. you giggled, “i did. can i do it again?”
Hazel didn’t have to think twice about nodding and letting you pull her into you once more. although she was still in shock, nothing in that moment felt better than your lips on hers.
#hazel callahan#hazel callahan x reader#hazel callahan x fem!reader#bottoms movie#bottoms 2023#not sure if im writing for her yet#just had this idea and wanted to write it out :)
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Cheer Skirt Misap: Hazel Callahan x Reader Smut
word count: 1k
summary: Hazel finds your new cheer uniform attractive. Particularly the skirt and how short it is.
Warnings: Oral (r receiving), Hazel is an ass girl, slight spanking, hazel doing sexual activities when’s she probably shouldn’t be. After that fight. Reader is more feminine. 18+ MDNI
A/N: I watch bottoms 2 months ago and i haven’t stopped thinking about her and ruby cruz since, so here’s this. Also reader is a cheerleader. I wish I could come up with a clever title. Also Hazel gives me service top vibes.
Hazel is sitting on your bed. She’s trying to listen to whatever you are talking about, but she can’t focus on anything besides how hot you look in your new cheer skirt. The skirt is white with blue and red on the bottom, falling just above your thigh. You had gotten the new uniforms for the big game against Huntington. She watches you move around your room, getting ready for the game, her eyes lingering on your legs and how short the new cheer skirt seemed compared to the old ones.
“Pj was such a dick the other day. I mean, saying that about your mom was so out of line, babe, and I mean, you didn’t make a fake fight club to have sex with cheerleaders. You actually cared about female solidarity and everything. And you’re literally dating a cheerleader on your own accord without lying-“
You pause your rant about PJ, turn around, and see Hazel sitting in your bed, staring at the lower half of your body. It’s clear she isn’t paying attention. You walk closer to your bed and see her bruised face from the fight at the pep rally. You frown, knowing she probably had some sort of concussion that was making it hard to focus.
“Hazel? Hazel, are you okay…do you need to lie down? Am I talking too fast?”
Hazel looks up at you with her blue eyes bruised black and purple, but they’re still big and bright as she looks at you.
“I-um, no, I was just thinking about something else.”
You sit beside her on your bed, your thighs touching hers in her black jeans. Hazel's eyes linger on your upper thighs again before tearing her eyes away. She feels her heart beating faster in her chest, trying not to stare at your legs, trying to ignore the ache in between her thighs. She feels a bit guilty being so turned on as you look at her, so worried and concerned.
“Oh? Thinking about what?” You see Hazel look a bit flustered at your question, and you relax a bit. You could tell it wasn't something bad, but you were still intrigued about what was on her mind.
“Um. I was just thinking about you and how you look cute in your cheer skirt,” she tells you the truth partially, slightly nervous and embarrassed to admit that your skirt had turned her on so much.
You smile at the compliment. “Oh, thanks, babe! We got new cheer uniforms since it's like the biggest game ever, but they are a bit shorter.” You get off your bed and look at the skirt through your mirror. It’s a few inches shorter than your usual cheer skirt. You thought you got the wrong size at first, but they just ended up being that short. “I'm glad we were shorts underneath, or I would literally flash the crowd.”
Hazel smiles, laughing a bit at your comment, eyes still gazing at your lower half. “Well, it looks really good on you. Maybe shorter skirts make you more aerodynamic, help you fly up higher or something.”
Hazel suggests innocently when she knows thats probably not the reason your skirt is so short it's almost showing your ass considering your team’s pep rally performance. You laugh a bit, smiling at her reasoning.
“I really don't think that’s the reason, baby.”
She toys with the bottom of your skirt lightly as she continues. “No, I think it is! Maybe it could help with the-the air and going up and-and flips and stuff because there less..fabric?”
Hazle tries to justify but fails, making you laugh more. You find her attempt cute, though. Her blue eyes linger on your thighs again, gazing at them before she pulls you onto her lap by your hips, quickly kissing your lip-glossed lips suddenly. You suck in a sharp breath at the unexpected kiss, closing your eyes and melting against her the familiar feeling of her lips. You feel Hazel’s hands grasp your hips tighter as she kisses your lips, pressing against each other. Your arms go around her neck.
You break apart from the kiss slightly, looking at the playful smile on her lips and her face flushed and red, her eyes wide as she looks back. You can tell she’s turned on, and if her gaze didn’t give it away, her hands creeping up under the skirt did.
“You’re really happy over these aerodynamic skirts, huh?” you smile at her, knowing that was not the reason she couldn’t keep her hands off you. You could tell it was because of how the shorts showed off your legs and a bit of your ass.
Hazel pulls you against her passionately. Your lips crash together, kissing you again. She pulls you by your hips back on top of her. You feel her hands lightly moving down your back. She can’t keep her hands off of you, but you move your lips off slowly as you realize how things are progressing. You stare at Hazel, hesitant when you remember.
“Hazel…are you sure you can do…more strenuous activities? You know you were beat up pretty badly, babe.” you look concerned as you sit up, moving off of her. You move off from on top of her and sit back on your bed.
She nods excitedly like there is no problem, like she didn’t get the shit kicked out of her the other day and is perfectly okay.
“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s fine. I’m like almost 100% better anyways.” Hazel tries to sound sure, but you can tell she isn’t. You nod, still not fully unconvinced. You saw the fight and know she had taken quite a beating, and the last thing you wanna do is make it worse by having sex.
You pause, thinking for a moment before speaking again. “Babe, I really don’t think we should be doing anything. Plus, we have to be at the football game in like an hour.” Hazel nods, pouting her lip a bit as she thinks. You watch her fidget with her silver rings as she thinks of a solution, clearly not taking no for an answer.
“Oh! Wait, wait, I got it.” Hazel looks excited, her blue eyes excited. She lays down on your bed. “I’ll just eat you out.” You pause, thinking for a few minutes about her solution,
“I don’t know Hazel…what about you-”
She cuts you off, hungrily kissing your lips as they press against hers. She cups your cheek and slips her tongue in your mouth. You melt instantly, feeling that warm feeling you get every time you kiss. After making out for a few minutes, you feel her pull away, your head a bit dizzy from the kiss.
“Please let me eat your pretty pussy. I promise I’ll be fine,” Hazel begs as she looks at you, slowly rubbing circles on your hips. Her words go straight to your core, turning you on.
You look at her and give in, unable to resist her big blue eyes. “Fine, but you’re stopping the second you get dizzy or something feels off.” Hazel nods as her grip on your waist tightens as she looks up at you excitedly.
She pulls your black lacey underwear from under your cheer skirt and throws them somewhere off in your room. You lean down and cup her face with her face, your lips crushing onto hers again, making out. Hazel moves her hands down, lightly squeezing your ass. Her lips linger, touching against yours as she looks up at you.
You move, placing your hips over her face. You look at her as she stares back excitedly. You slowly lower yourself on her lips and waste no time licking around your wet and puffy folds. She licks along your lips slowly, and you gasp at the feeling of her tongue. She continues moving her tongue as you try to hold your hips, trying not to thrust them, Hazel’s injuries still in the back of your mind. You moan out her name as she sucks on your clit.
“Fuck Hazel, please don't stop.” you close your eyes, grabbing the side of her sheets and slowly rolling your hips against her lips.
She grips your ass under your cheer skirt, squeezing it. Her tongue slips inside your entrance, and your moan grows louder as her motions speed up slightly, eating you out like she’s starved. Your face grows hotter as you feel the arousal building; you feel yourself getting wetter under her touch. She places a smack on your ass, and you moan, not expecting to like it as much as you did.
“Fuck, baby! I'm close!-yes, right there! Fuck Hazel!”
Your back arch letting out a breathy moan as your orgasm gets closer. You thrust, moving your hips faster as she swirls her tongue around your swollen clit. You feel yourself coming undone as your orgasm hits. Cumming around Hazel’s lips. You breathe deeply and slowly move from on top of her, sitting in your bed. Hazel sits up, her chin wet and lips swollen.
You look at her, wiping your wetness off her lips. “How do you feel? Are you dizzy, or do you have a headache?”
Hazel smiles and shakes her head. You nod, still catching your breath. You feel her hand on your thigh, rubbing it softly, feeling her cold rings on your skin.
“Yes, I’m fine; never been better.” She beams, happy from her previous activities. You kiss her lightly before standing up to finish getting ready for the game against Huntington. Hazel leans against her arms, watching you in your bed.
“But after I feel better, I’m gonna have to fuck you in that skirt.” you turn around at her words, a bit shocked at how bluntly she put it.
“Oh? You are. And eating me out while I'm wearing it isn't enough?” Hazel shakes her head lightly.
“No. I mean, it's good enough for right now, but the thought of watching you bounce on my strap in that cute little skirt is making me feel a bit foggy and extremely turned on.”
You nod as you return to putting on your makeup for the game. “Well, get a doctor’s note, and we can make that happen.”
#angel writes#hazel callahan#hazel callahan x reader#hazel callahan x fem reader#wlw fanfic#hazel callahan smut#bottoms fanfic#bottoms 2023#bottoms movie 2023
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In conclusion of watching Bottoms three times, I would like to be as hot as Hazel Callahan while also being with Hazel Callahan romantically please and thank you
#she’s so hot and for what#thank you writing team (Rachel and Emma)#thank you casting directors#thank you costume department#ruby cruz#hazel callahan#bottoms 2023#bottoms movie
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Like a Lady (Morston one-shot)
Arthur says yes to the deluxe bath in Valentine, but the girl who works the baths at 2AM wasn't who Arthur was expecting. He wants the deluxe bath anyway.
art by @moopzies on tumblr/twitter
(note: This is a repost from my old tumblr that i can no longer access but since someone is hating on morston again how about a reminder of a cross-dressing John fic I wrote~)
ao3 link
or read below:
Racoons were the worst rodent in all the lands, Arthur decided as he rode into Valentine, head down in shame and back irritated beyond reach. If his horse could talk, she’d be giving some sympathy back with a hint of mockery, just as Arthur would to anyone of his gang brothers.
He was just out in the forest trying to grab some meat, unbeknownst that a family of Racoons already took his spot by the pond as their territory. Trying to shoo them away proved fruitless, and soon he had one on his back trying to eat his hat, and another inside his jacket looking for a pack of cigarettes.
Now he was out of smokes, no meat to show for, and tired as all hell. He was not camping out, not with those monsters waiting for him, so he made his way back into town and said he was going to treat himself to a nice hot bath.
The only places open were the saloon and the hotel which advertised their 24 hour bath service. As small and smelly as Valentine was, their hot water all but made up for it.
Hitched his horse and gave her a nice bundle of carrots for the night before making his way inside, slamming two quarters down and demanding a bath. His kindness only went to his horse, as he had no patience for the night clerk’s fret of tracking mud.
The damn racoons pushed him into a puddle. He won’t elaborate further.
Once the clerk confirmed the hot water was ready, Arthur dragged himself into the tub, throwing his dirty clothes aside and stepped in.
The hot water was a shock to his cold skin that quickly subsided into the pleasurable heat he was dreaming of. This is exactly what his body needed, a nice hot bath with the soaps and sponges, not the damn river water most of everyone at camp uses when they can’t afford the bath.
He only got to scrubbing his arms when he sank into the tub, just letting himself soak. If Charles was available, he’d ask to go hunting with him. Maybe he knew how to deal with feral racoons.
Or he could rob some O’Driscolls for a few gold pieces. That’s a faster way to make money and buy butchered food in town.
Arthur had his eyes closed, dreaming of the land he was supposed to be exploring in New Austin when a knock awoke him. “Would you like some assistance?”
He peaked one eye open at the door, still closed but a shadow indicating someone on the other side. She didn’t sound like the usual girl who offered the service, but then again Arthur had ridden in around two in the morning. He also rejected the service last time he was here as he just wanted a moment to himself. This time, though, a bit of company sounded nice, even if he had to pay her.
“Sure.” He said.
The door opened, and not a split second later shut abruptly. “Shit!”
That startled Arthur awake, now recognizing the voice. It was not a woman, but instead John fucking Marston, wearing a petticoat and what looked like a corset similar to Karen’s. The eye shadow and lipstick were just as visible as the wolf scars on his cheek, though Arthur was sure the blush was not make-up, but John’s natural color.
“What the hell are you doing here?” John whispered harshly.
Arthur eyed him up, and under the bubbles pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming…or drowning. “I should be asking you that, Marston.”
“None of you come here at this hour. Haven’t since we’ve been camping.”
Arthur opened his mouth to retort when a knock on the door startled them. John stepped back, rushing over to Arthur’s side at the tub.
“Everything okay in there?” Arthur assumed it was the clerk.
“Just fine.” Arthur answered for them. “Saw…a rat.”
“Oh! We apologize about that sir, and we’ll get that squared away.”
John relaxed once the clerk’s footsteps faded, but then he glared down at him. “Jesus christ why ain’t there another town…”
Suddenly, the last few weeks made sense to Arthur. John was in no shape to hunt or even go on scouting jobs, but he’d been antsy sitting around all day. He complained to Arthur, the night of Sean’s welcome back party, that he was feeling useless to the gang and saw no point in being saved if he was just sitting around all day. Arthur tried to reassure he wasn’t being a burden, considering how some others just lie all day, but John seemed determined to contribute in some way.
Arthur assumed at the time it was just drunk talk, and come morning John would be in his tent resting as he should be. But since then, John looked even more tired in the morning, groggy and sluggish like he had been up all night. Arthur even caught him contributing to the camp funds, but didn’t answer when Dutch asked where he got the money.
“So you’ve been…”
“Not a damn word Morgan.” John said. “If word gets back to camp,” John reached into the bath and pulled his ankle up, “I will skin you alive.”
Arthur snorted. “You wish, boy.”
“I mean it Arthur.” His voice was stern, a tone of a promise and not an empty threat. “I don’t need the rest of y’all treating me like you do the ladies. They get enough shit as it is and I’m not gonna sit by when that ridicule comes to me.”
Arthur raised his hands. “Geez, I won’t. Just surprised is all.”
John let go of his ankle, finally relaxing at the edge of the tub. “Good.”
Arthur laid back, watching John’s body language. As suspected this odd night shift wore him down. He wondered if John walked to Valentine or hitched a ride every time but it was still quite a trek from camp.
And the dress–it was common enough that he maybe took it from one of the gals in camp but even John doesn’t steal from women. His guess is he’s using what the hotel provided.
“So they let you take this job?” Arthur asked, curious.
John shrugged. “Got a few wanting…this kind of service.”
Arthur could see the appeal. Skirts and corsets were always pretty, bringing out the best features of a lady. John was a skinny man, handsome face and long hair that had ladies swooning over him when he was a teenager. And Arthur had eyes, he could see why men would overlook his gender and take him especially in this get up.
“Well, you’re in here.” Arthur said. “Might as well scrub my back.”
John whipped his head. “You fucking serious?”
Arthur reached over for the washcloth and handed it to him, “I’m paying you, aren’t I?”
“Fuck you Morgan,” John said, taking the cloth and pushing Arthur forward. “You lucky this ain’t a knife.”
The fabric against his back was rough and stung at the scratch marks. He’d prefer delicate hands instead, but John was not a delicate person.
“These are fresh, what the hell happened?”
Now it was Arthur’s turn to turn red from embarrassment. He’s still called lead-meat considering how he kills his animals with high caliber bullets, but no way in hell will anyone find out he was bested by forest rodents.
“Wolves.” He said stupidly.
John clicked his tongue. “Try again. No wolf marks are this shallow.”
“Just wash me.”
Arthur leaned forward on the tub’s edge, resting on his arms as he watched John grumble to himself. He was doing a very thorough job, making sure every bit of dirt was off him. No matter how much he made fun of him, John was always a hard worker, no doubt about that.
When John finished his back, he shoved Arthur to rest his back against the tub, and took one of his legs to wash him down.
“You are one hairy man.” John commented. “You have a shaving kit.”
“You’re on to talk. Don’t see you cutting this anytime soon.” He reached out, touching the ends of John’s hair. John, surprisingly, did not pull back.
“Hair on my head is fine. I think you’re growing a forest on your legs.”
He moved to the other side of the tub to scrub his other leg. He paused for a second, observing the fresh scratches on that side. It was the leg the racoons climbed onto to get to his damn cigarettes. “So…wanna explain these?”
Arthur shivered when John’s slender finger traced the red markings. He sunk into the tub, hoping the bubbles would hide his face. “Don’t go out to the Cumberland Forest, think the animals have rabies.”
John pulled his hand back. “...you pulling my leg?”
“We’ll see when I’m foaming at the mouth come morning.”
John pushed his leg back into the water. “Fine, I won’t tell you was ravaged by racoons.”
“And I won’t tell you moonlight as a lovely lady.”
“Just give me the damn money.”
Arthur pointed over to his trousers piled in the corner. John made a face as he picked it up, taking the money while checking out the mud stains. “You got spare clothes, right?”
“Yep, on the horse though.”
John shook his head, mumbling to himself as he left the room, leaving Arthur alone yet again with water now lukewarm.
Some part of him still wondered if this was an elaborate dream, though he questioned why he dreamt of John of all people bathing him when said man returned with his clothes from his horse’s saddle.
“I’ll get these washed up. They’ll be in your tent in the morning.”
Oh, well that was rather kind of him. John at the camp wouldn’t even get him a bowl of stew if Arthur asked politely.
“Boadicea is lookin’ dirty too. You’re gonna wanna brush her.”
His poor horse also got caught up in the raccoon fight when they were trying to escape, rushing through bushes and dust instead of their trail. “Yup, I’ll do that in the morning.”
“Oh Miss Joanna,” The desk clerk knocked on their door, but did not open it. “Mr. Waldorf is asking for you.”
John’s shoulders slumped, back pressing at the wall when he sighed out, “I will be right out.”
Arthur eyed the door. “Whose Mr. Waldorf?”
“My regular.” John said. “Uh, he comes in for a bath among…other things.”
The pink blush on his face said enough to know what John was expected to do tonight.
And something about that burned in Arthur’s chest.
The comments John had growing up, a lovely face with high cheekbones and long hair, had all the wrong men coming onto him. Arthur was always the first to step between anyone who wanted to touch him, and when John grew stronger, had no problem defending himself.
Still, as an adult, abiet it a stupid one, John could make his decisions himself. If he wanted to get sweet with men to help the camp, so be it.
Yet…
Arthur did not want another man touching him.
“How much?”
“Huh?”
“How much, for a night with you.”
If John’s face was pink before, it was as red as a tomato now.
“Y-ou–wha–why do you care?!”
“How. Much.”
“Arthur, just get out before I throw your nice clothes into the bath!”
When Marston was stunned, it was easier to swipe things from him, so Arthur just pulled his clothes from John’s hands and quickly put on his pants. He walked past him and towards the clerk, uncaring that his feet were tracking wet footprints.
“How much for Miss Joanna?”
The clerk pushed up his glasses, confused at the request. “Miss Joanna is already scheduled–”
If he recalled, Abigail said she used to charge thirty in the city. Karen and Tilly said they offer five to ten in small towns like these, but usually come back with more considering they also rob the men before they can even touch them.
So he pulled out ten, which was enough for the clerk to shut up. It worked, as the clerk looked at his profit and handed over a key. “Room 2b is available now.”
Arthur turned back to the bath hallway, smirking at John’s stunned opened mouth. He jingled the keys and walked up to his room, knowing in just a few minutes John would be bursting through the doors, angrily sputtering nonsense about his job and not needing protection as he always did whenever Arthur involved himself in his business.
Arthur laid on the freshly made bed, noting it was big enough for two, hands behind his head and resting on the pillow, whistling softly to himself as the door slammed open.
“Morgan you goddamn bastard!”
“Miss Joanna,” Arthur smiled. “A lady shouldn’t be shoutin’, you could wake everyone up.”
John closed the door behind him, throwing Arthur’s dirty clothes onto the floor. Guess he won’t be getting those washed up anytime soon.
“Why, why are you still foolin’ around with me?” John asked through seething teeth. “You got your bath and a good laugh. Just let me work.”
Arthur kept this gaze tight on John. “Do I look like I’m laughing?”
“You’re smiling, you’re halfway there.”
“But I’m not.” Arthur said simply. “Even the gals don’t sleep with men anymore for money. Why are you?”
John gestures around him. “Contribute to the group, that’s what Dutch said, didn't he? Well I ain’t doing much sitting and moping all day, having Micah tell me what deadweight I am, Javier bragging about the loot he got. Hell, you and Charles are keeping us fed with all the animals yous been huntin.” John took a moment to breathe, hands on his hips as he paced around the room. “I’m useless.”
The smile on Arthur’s face left. He sat up on the bed, moving his body so that his feet were on the floor. “John, you were in the mountains starving for two days, attacked by wolves. You couldn’t even walk.”
“I’m walkin’ now, aren’t I?”
“It’s okay to rest. You ain’t useless.”
John clicked his tongue. “Tell that to Micah.”
“Micah should have been left in the mountains to die.” Arthur said without hesitation. “Come here.”
John crossed his arms over his chest. “You don’t gotta hug me. I ain’t twelve anymore.”
“Clearly.” Arthur said, patting his lap.
At least John’s face was back to red from embarrassment rather than anger. After a second of contemplating he did, walking over so that he was standing between Arthur’s legs.
Arthur reached out to touch his hand. He rubbed soft circles around his knuckles before taking it to his lips, and kissed him.
“Arthur…stop playin– Art!”
In a swift move, Arthur brought John down so that he was seated in his lap, skirt hanging over and covering both their legs. John’s waist was so small in the corset that was beautifully embroidered with flowers.
“Lemme take care of you Johnny.” Arthur soothed, letting his other hand rundown John’s back. The texture of the lace ribbon and metal boning danced on his fingertips. The knot at the bottom was tight enough to keep the piece altogether, but with the perfect tug, he could release John from his confines.
“”M not a kid.” John said suddenly. “Treat me like a man.”
“No.” Arthur said. He took the end of the ribbon and pulled the knot loose. But he didn’t let it slip off his body. Instead Arthur flipped them over, John with his back on the bed while Arthur kneeled between his legs. He hiked up the skirt to John’s waist, hands scrambling to pull down the bloomers and toss them aside.
“Tonight, I’m treatin’ you like a lady.”
He spread John’s legs apart, revealing his half-hard erection underneath all the pretty soft fabric. He began by kissing his inner thighs, noticing that he smelled almost floral. He sunk his teeth into the skin, using his tongue to lick the light wound right after and asked, “Did you clean yourself?”
Arthur couldn’t see John’s face, imagining he must be so flustered. With a shaky breath John replied, “Yeah, we’re all supposed–”
Arthur darted his tongue into his hole, leaving the younger man choking on his own words. Not only did John clean, but he prepared himself in advance, already stretched and lubricated. He supposed John couldn’t get wet as naturally as a woman, but that was okay, that gave Arthur more time to enjoy his body.
“A-Arthur! You don’t hafta–ah..”
John’s hand found Arthur’s hair, pulling at his strands to try and pull him off, but Arthur wouldn’t allow it. He doubted John’s customers ever treated him right, only using him for their pleasure and leaving him nothing else. It was time for John to feel the pleasure of a tongue inside him, fingering for his own lust. A cock that would draw out real screams.
He heard the younger sigh, keeping Arthur’s head in place and squeezed his thighs together. Arthur smiled to himself. John was finally allowing himself to actually feel good, and he was not holding back his sounds.
Unless they were yelling, the walls in this hotel were actually thick enough to mask conversations. The breathy moans and pants from John were just for Arthur to hear, and he took pride knowing he’s able to get these sounds out of him.
Arthur threw one of John’s legs over his shoulder to get a deeper angle. It caused another low whine, John withering in the bed to try and ride Arthur’s face. His cock was leaking now with some of his seed staining the inside of the dress. Arthur took his cock in hand, squeezing the base to stop him from coming so soon.
His own pants tightened at John’s voice, but Arthur ignored it so he could stretch his partner out.
He pulled his tongue out to kiss his thighs and legs, with one finger gently circling John’s puckered hole. “I’m putting one in.”
“Dammit Arthur, just–hng,”
“Impatient.”
John mouthed something that sounded like a “Fuck you”, but his words jumbled into a moan. Of all ways to finally shut John Marston up, it’d be something in his ass.
He started scissoring him with two, knowing John could take it with how slick he already was, and the younger man continued to sing pretty.
With a third to get him out thoroughly, John dug his heels into Arthur’s shoulders. “Arthur– please .”
Arthur kissed the head of his cock. “Never heard you beg like that.”
“ Arthur .”
If they were outside, with no walls or other people to consider, he’d have John begging until the birds in the sky could hear him. For now, John was all for him, in this room, in his lovely dress.
John scooted up the bed, resting between the two pillows. Arthur shoved down his pants, revealing his very hard erection. John’s eyes went down, and he swallowed nervously.
“This is for you, Johnny.” Arthur said, taking his cock and stroking himself. He leaned down, hips between John’s legs and hand tangling in John’s hair. “You made me hard. See what you’ve done?”
“J-just a bath…” John shied away from Arthur’s eyes, but in doing so he leaned into his touch.
“No, more than the bath. You’re beautiful John.”
Kissing his forehead, Arthur aligned himself with John’s opening and slowly sunk himself in. John gasped at the new stretch, and he grabbed Arthur by his shoulders, holding on as the man buried himself deep in him.
Between John’s teary eyes, the corset that just hung off his body, and the skirt now hiked up to his hips, he was a gorgeous sight, and for Arthur’s eyes only. If John would allow him, he’d photograph him with the camera in his bag. Maybe he’ll draw him out from memory, a reminder of this intimate and secret moment.
“Arthur,” John whispered. “Are you going to–”
“Thought I’d be gentle with you, miss.”
He could stay buried inside John forever. He was so warm , and fit him perfectly.
John rolled his eyes, but finally turned to Arthur to give him a proper kiss on the lips. “Fuck me, cowboy.”
Who was Arthur to deny a request like that?
He smashed their lips together, moving his hips in quick succession and thrusted in and out of his body just like he asked. The bed squeaked under them, headboard hitting the wall and Arthur was so glad this was the room at the end of the hall.
John’s moans were swallowed by Arthur, but what he would give to hear him out loud. John wrapped his legs around Arthur, trying to keep him in place as Arthur built his own pleasure with his body.
John’s neglected cock bounced between them. With his thumb, he rubbed at the tip, smearing his precum all over. That alone was enough to make John throw his head back, and covering his mouth, came between their bodies.
He tightened up after that, and Arthur hid his face in his shoulder. “John, fuck , I’m close. Where–”
“Inside.” John said, meeting Arthur’s movements. “Come inside me, Arthur.”
It didn’t take long for Arthur to follow, with one last hard thrust he buried himself deep, and filled John.
They came down from their high through lazy and breathless kisses. Arthur started on his lips, and when John grew tired, slumping into the bed, Arthur kissed his forehead, his cheek with his scars, and to his collarbone, wishing he could leave a mark if not for the fact John wore open necked shirts.
The night air of Valentine cooled their sweat and fluids, something that John quickly grew uncomfortable as his own spend was on his skirt and thighs. Arthur had not pulled out, but he could feel him leaking .
“Off,” John said after a moment. “Ugh, I think I need a bath.”
“Need some assistance?” Arthur asked shamelessly, and John lightly hit his arm.
“Ass. Just…wash cloth? There should be one by the drawer.
And that there was, as well as a set of clean sheets. For a small town hotel, they were ready for this type of clean up.
He wiped John’s body thoroughly, kissing every part of his skin until he was cleaned of the sweat and fluids. His lower half, however, Arthur watched in full arousal as his seed leaked out of him, dripping down to his thighs. Without warning he hitched John’s leg over his shoulder again, licking the rest of him clean.
John whimpered, holding in his moans as Arthur’s mouth got closer to his hole. He wasn’t hard yet so fast, but his cute cock was trying. It made Arthur smile.
When he was done teasing John, Arthur finally stood to take a nice look at his debauched and thoroughly fucked body. John was still breathing hard, face flushed and long legs spread out, ready for him again if Arthur pleased.
John looked absolutely stunning.
He joined him back on the bed, pulling John to his chest to kiss his forehead. The fireplace crackled as the logs broke under the heat, and the Valentine night noises filled the otherwise silent room, that was until a man two doors down groaned in pain.
Arthur shot up immediately, looking for his pistol when John tapped his chest to have him rest. “Ignore him, some poor fella with a stomach problem.”
“Oh.”
Under his chin, John’s hair smelled floral. He always called him a pile of grease because he just looked so oily, but running his hands through it, Arthur found his hair was very soft.
“So, how the hell is this going to work?” John asked after a while.
“What d’ya mean?”
“You just paid me and that money’s going back to the gang. Kinda weird when you can just put it in the box yourself.”
Arthur pulled John closer. “That money is yours with however you want it. I can contribute another way.”
John shrugged. “I don’t know, doesn’t feel right to take your money.”
“But it was okay to take my hat, my clothes, my saddle? ”
“I was fifteen!”
Arthur laughed. “John, I mean it. Do what you want with the money. Just stop doing this for other men.”
He could feel John tense. “How am I supposed to contribute–”
“Start by doing chores around the camp. Clean the horses, I don’t know. Nothing that would hurt you.” Arthur said. “I know you wanna be out here but…”
Arthur rolled them over, John now on his back so Arthur could look at him. As gently as he could, Arthur cupped John’s scarred cheek. “Take it easy. I’m not losing you again because you went off and got attacked.”
“They were just wolves.” John reminded him, leaning into his touch. “Better than O'Driscolls.”
They knew what the O’Driscolls were capable of. Arthur didn’t like that thought either.
Arthur laid next to John.“ Just…be there when I return to camp.”
The room grew quiet, just the sounds of the fireplace and the crickets from the outside. Then, in a small but earnest voice, John said. “Okay.” As he snuggled closer to Arthur.
Satisfied, Arthur stroked through John’s hair until he fell asleep, and soon enough Arthur did the same, holding the man like he was the most precious thing on earth. Because John Marston really was.
Arthur awoke to the roosters. Groaning, he covered his ears with a pillow and turned over, expecting to meet with another body only to find himself alone. He sighed, remembering that John probably snuck out earlier to make it back to camp, but it still disappointed him no less to wake up alone.
The room looked as if only one occupant stayed. The dirty clothes and wash cloth were gone. On top of his clean clothes, folded, was a note, definitely left by John based on his chicken scratch handwriting.
Saw some O’Driscolls hanging outside the hotel. Be careful on your way back. They was wearing some shiny new belts.
Arthur smiled, tucking the note away in his journal as he got ready for the day.
Picking off the O’Driscolls was easy, leading them far enough from town to take them out and steal any valuables on them. His luck turned around right after when a herd of deer trotted by, and Arthur managed to kill one cleanly and take the carcass back to the camp.
It was noon by the time he returned, valuables for the camp box and meat for Pearson’s stew.
Heading over to the girl’s wagon to pick up the coffee sacks for Pearson, Arthur saw John with a bucket between his legs, scrubbing away at some clothes. Despite working, he looked well rested, his first night with proper sleep.
The girls were folding the dry clothes and sewing ripped fabric. When Arthur said hello, the girls welcomed him back, while John grumbled.
“Get all them stains out, Marston.” Arthur teased.
“Fuck off.”
There were no heat in his words, judging by the way Tilly and Mary-Beth giggled.
“At least one of yous is helping us.” Karen said aloud, eyes glaring daggers at Sean sleeping by a rock.
“Don’t strain yourself too much ladies, Marston.” Arthur said, taking the sack over his shoulder.
“Arthur.” John called out, eyes still on the washboard. “I left your clothes hanging by your tent.”
Arthur took a quick glance over at his side of camp, seeing his clothes from the night before freshly washed and hanging to dry on a clothesline, just as John said. When he looked back, he noticed a faint blush on his face.
“Thanks. Can you come by later? My blanket ripped, I need help sewing it.”
The blush on his face deepened, but John just replied. “Sure.”
“John! I didn’t know you can sew.” Mary-Beth said, surprised.
“Me neither…” Was what John mumbled.
“Hey Marston, can you wash my long johns?”
“Do it yourself Williamson!”
“You do Arthur’s but not mine?!”
Arthur laughed, finally separating himself from them to give Pearson his sack. The rest of their afternoon would be filled with finishing chores, then sitting around the campfire listening to Javier sing or Uncle’s dubious escapades.
But in the night, John would be back in his tent, the man in his arms. Arthur just got a taste in Valentine, and he wasn’t going to stop just because John wasn’t in a skirt.
He wondered if he paid Karen or Mary-Beth, if they’d let Arthur keep one of their skirts.
#morston#john marston#arthur morgan#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#morston rdr2#hazel writes#hazel writes morston#morston fanfic#morston fanart
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I'M SORRY but ahhhh lest we forget is on... a very temporary hiatus. out of buffer chapters and final deadlines for grad school are kicking my ass. i swear it will return soon insert me crying over my laptop here
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Haven’t I Given Enough?
Summary: Copia seeks comfort from his brother
Warnings: Heavy Angst
Pairing: None
Main Masterlist
I can’t call you Papa. Those five words echoed in Copia’s brain as he stumbled back to his office. As soon as he got to his office, Copia sat down in his chair and stared off into space.
“Cardinal? Is everything ok? I heard what happened with Imperator.” Terzo asked as he came into Copia’s office.
“Haven’t I given enough?” Copia whispered, uttering Terzo speechless as he watched his half-brother try to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.
“You have. You’ve given it your all and if Imperator doesn’t see that, well then she can go to hell because you’ve tried to impress her with no avail. I’ve seen you try.” Terzo whispered as he walked around the desk and knelt in front of Copia, taking his hands in his.
“Can I ever make Sister proud of me?” Copia asked.
“Of course, you can. And you will too. I can feel it... Now, why are you holding back your emotions?” Terzo replied and put a hand on Copia’s thigh.
“Father said I’m not to cry,” Copia answered as he desperately held back his tears.
“That is because Father is incapable of human emotion. You are twenty. You can cry if you feel like it. You can cry as hard as you want and as loud as you want. You can even scream at the top of your lungs.” Terzo soothed and pulled Copia in his lap on the floor and watched as Copia finally let go of all the pent-up rage, sadness, and hatred that he had been holding in for Satan knows how long. Terzo held his half-brother and petted his hair as he cried in anguish at the way he’d been treated by Imperator. Eventually, Copia fell asleep, having cried all his tears, but Terzo never let go of him. He held him and kept his younger brother safe from the world and its cruel judgment.
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Teenage Romance II Hazel Callahan
Pairings: Hazel Callahan x fem! reader
Contains: Pure fluff. Just a really really cute little story
(Apologies for any spelling mistakes, English isn't my first language)
A/N Message: i'm honesty so proud of this. I've been thinking of writing something like this for a while. Also i love hazel Callahan so much. (If you couldn't already tell...)
Summery:Due to so many stressing schoolwork and family issues, you haven't had time to spend time with your girlfriend Hazel.
You woke up to the subtle raindrops against your windows. It was a rainy grey day and thank god you had nothing to do today. You got out of your bed and tangled yourself into your big white blanket that covered basically your whole bed. You walked out of your room and down the set of stairs to see nobody home. You smiled to yourself and made yourself a bowl of lucky charms. While eating, you got the best idea yet. Since your schedule has been all occupied by family activities and many more you haven't had time to actually spend time with Hazel besides school. You jumped up from your chair and ran upstairs to get ready. You decided to wear a white collared shirt and some baggy blue jeans and your black converse. You were going to suprise hazel at her door but you hoped if her mom was there she wouldn't dissrupt you both. When you got to her mansion, you began walking up to her doorstep occasionally stepping in water puddles. You knocked on her door two times and waited for someone to answer. When the door finally opened, it revealed a very tired hazel who was still in her "pajamas" which was a white tank top and green sweatpants that made her look so breath taking. her eyes lit up when she saw you. "Hey baby, come in." hazel said guiding you by your arm inside her warm, welcoming house. When you came in, she hugged you by your waist and swayed both your bodies side to side. "Haze i missed you" You say, hugging her tighter. she hums and kisses your temple. "What d ya wanna do baby? My mom's not home and won't be for a while so your choice,love." Hazel says letting go of you to look down at you. "Uhh can we make cookies?" You ask looking at her. "Anything you want. c'mon" Hazel replies guiding you to the kitchen.
"You both head into the kitchen and begin to get a chocolate chip cookie mix out. "As you are mixing all of the substances together, Hazel hugs you from behind and starts kissing your neck lightly. "Haze it tickles!" You giggle as you feel her smile into your neck. "I missed you so much you know?" Hazel mumbles. ""Me too Haze, I promise to try my hardest to spend more time with you." You say, turning around and cupping her cheeks. She sighs and closes her eyes leaning into your touch. You giggle and kiss her on the lips quickly before mixing your cookies once again. "Now go to the couch and find a movie to watch" You say bringing your attention back to the cookies. "Fineee" Hazel whines walking into the family room. After putting the cookies into the oven, you decide to mess with Hazel. Since the back of the couch was facing you, you decided to sneak up behind her and scare her. You tip-toe into the family room up against the couch and launch at her. "Boo!" You say making her jump. "Fuck Y/N, you scared me!" Hazel says looking at you with wide eyes. "Well that was kind of my whole plan Haze." You say messing up her dark brown hair. Hazel just rolls her eyes and continues watching the movie. After a few minutes, you see that the cookies were done. You get a baking glove, and take out the tray of cookies and place them on the stove. After they cool down, you get two cookies one for you and one for hazel and take them to the couch. "Here you go" You say handing Hazel the cookie. "Thank you sweetheart" Hazel answers while taking a big bite of her cookie. You walk over to the couch and cuddle up beside her. She instantly wraps her arm around your shoulder and holds you tight against her. You can smell her, you can tell she put her dark nature forest cologne you baught for her months ago. "I love you Haze." You whisper looking up to meet her beautiful blue eyes. "I love you too, baby" She answers, looking down at you and kissing your forehead. "So much."
#hazel callahan#bottoms hazel#hazel bottoms#hazel callahan x reader#i suck at writing#hazel callahan imagine#hazel callahan x you#Hazel callahan is such a sweetheart i may die#hazel callahan fluff#wlw#bottoms movie 2023#bottoms movie#bottoms 2023#ruby cruz
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Streamer!Hazel inviting her fan favorite girlfriend to play stardew valley and having to fight chat bc they keep calling her their girlfriend too
WHO TOLD YALL ABOUT MY STARDEW VALLEY ADDICTION 😭
reqs are open!!
listen to hazels spotify here ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅
once you and hazel moved in together, her already chaotic streams were bombarded with curious messages about who the gorgeous girl bolting across the background was. you didn’t mind though, hazel found such confidence and joy in streaming, so you were happy to support her, even if it meant sprinting or crawling across the room to avoid making a fuss of your presence.
as you grew more and more used to hazels life being in front of the camera, you began to warm up to appearances, which to your surprise was oddly…a hit. her subscribers were obsessed with the way her girlfriend would scruff up her headset hair and the witty one liners she would shout from the kitchen when hazel would scream bloody murder at her screen.
you became a sensation, a staple of hazels streams being highlighted by the floods of comments when you would make an appearance to comment on her gaming skills while lounging in your pink chair.
she had been hyping this up all damn week. you are somewhat of a gamer yourself, just not as invested as hazel is, so she decided to revive her stardew valley farm that got her viral in the first place from screeching at the screen when she finally found the mayors ‘shorts’.
“so chat, i know i’ve been hiding who our special guest is tonight….but i think you’ll find the wait worth it!” as hazel excitedly drags your iconic pink gaming chair into frame, the chat blows up, with gay keyboard smashes galore.
HOLY SHDITNJEJWE
ITS HER
IM TOO GAY FOR THIS
you giggle from offscreen; the fact that just your chair can set them off like that is too much for you, it’s incredible and hilarious and heartwarming all at once.
“okay, okay goddamn….come on in babe.” she nods over at your chair, as you flounce over and plop in it, slipping your pink headset on.
“hi guys!”
“you wanna tell them what we’re playing?” hazel ponders.
“oh, yeah! okay guys so….drumroll my love?” you glance over at your girlfriend, who pounds on the desk. “we’re starting stardew valley tonight!”
the chat erupts.
damn, gays really do love stardew valley.
as you boot up the game, hazel scrolls through the chat, and notices a comment-
she’s our girlfriend now bestie 🤭🩷
“hey! she’s mine guys, get your own!!”
“haze, what are you talking about?”
“someone said you’re all of chats girlfriend!!”
“rightttt….okay honey.” you giggle as you click through the startup screen, creating a new save file.
“okay, so…what should our name be?”
she sniffs and gets this shit eating grin on her face, while your jaw drops realizing exactly what she’s thinking.
“you can’t say pussy hazel.”
“damn it!”
she settles on naming and modeling the character after you, but insists on taking control for the rest of the customization.
“hazel!!”
“what!!”
“you can’t say my favorite thing is ‘this strap!’”
“but it’s true!!! stop looking!!”
you sigh and turn back over to the chat, where you’re stifling back laughter over the comments.
hazel can’t handle her she’s OUR girlfriend now
OUR GIRLFRIEND FOR REAL
petition for us all to date hazels gf she needs a break 😭
“hey, what’s so funny?” she puts her hand on your back as she skims the chat. “HEY!! SHES MY GIRLFRIEND!!! MINE!!” the smile spread on her face is unlike anything you’ve ever seen from her before. she truly loves streaming, and she loves showing you off in them, but of course she’d never confess that to her subscribers.
never xoxo 💋
sorry she’s not our girlfriend
she’s our wife
“FUCK!”
this is gonna be a long night.
#hazel callahan#hazel callahan x reader#hazel callahan blurb#hazel callahan fanfiction#hazel callahan headcanons#hazel callahan imagine#hazel callahan x you#hazel callahan brainrot#bottoms 2023#hazel callahan au#hazel callahan smut#hazel bottoms#streamer!hazel#streamer!hazel callahan#buckleysbitch writes#taking reqs#taking requests#reqs open#requests open
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i will forever be disappointed at how the Aphrodite cabin is portrayed in the books.
Silena was an exception I guess but it wasn't enough tbh. I really dislike the way wearing makeup or dressing up fancy is seen as "shallow". And the only "good" member of the cabin after silena was a girl who didn't like her own cabin and was seen as super "cool" simply because she rejected all the "girly" stuff by rebelling. Why can't we have both "girly" and non girly girls as cool people?
Drew was genuinely very shallow, but every time she's brought up in the books, instead of soley describing her personality, her tendency to wear makeup is shown as a bad thing. And it's not just because she's seen in piper's pov, she wasnt really described any better in Sadie Kane's povs either. When Sadie described drew wearing "awful pink eyeliner" upon seeing her.
Reading about Drew's character description just gives me a headache lol because the way Rick wrote her as being shallow while ironically making other people judge her in a shallow way is just off putting
Give me an Aphrodite kid who sees wearing makeup as an art form (because it is) and not simply just to impress other people, like drew.
Give me an Aphrodite kid who uses fashion as a coping mechanism from their shitty life.
Give me an Aphrodite kid who loves knitting other people cute scarves as presents.
Give me an Aphrodite kid who loves doing younger camper's hair for them as their love language.
#I luv my cabin 10 bbs sm <3#Yall deserved better writing fr#pjo#pjo fandom#percy jackson#pjo hoo#pjo series#pjo hoo toa#piper mclean#silena beauregard#drew tanaka#leo valdez#annabeth chase#jason grace#hazel levesque#frank zhang#percy jackson fandom#percy jackon and the olympians#percy series#percy pjo
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