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messylustt · 11 months

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𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬

miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 3.2k words

fic masterlist previous part pt seven next part

angst but kinda fluffy? straight after; mention of past violence (minor) — you wanted to know what those spanish sentences miguel made you say meant, him having kept that to himself. and when you do, having scouted miles, you’re left…well…shocked. your friends are also left shocked wondering who asked you to say those things. when you go to question miguel about it you find him in a state you’ve never seen him in before.

You had desperately wanted to translate the Spanish Miguel had chosen not to tell you. So much so, that you had began to scout HQ for a Spanish native speaker. You were too prideful to use your phone for translation, plus Miguel said nothing on not asking someone.

You remember Miles saying his mum was Hispanic. Even if his Spanish wasn’t top notch you’re sure he’ll understand at least a few words. Understand the sentences Miguel made you say.

You spot Pav talking with some other spider variants, using large hand gestures. "Pav!" You call, walking up to him.

He shifts his gaze to you, a smile soon following. “Y/n. How are you?”

You smile. “Good…yeah, no I’m good. I was just wondering if you knew where Miles was?”

“Oh.” He spins. “I swear I saw him over there.” He points in a random direction. “…now he’s gone. Maybe with Gwen.” He nudges you, raising his brows. You chuckle, understanding the meaning of those raised brows.

“Well, this will only take a moment. I just need translation for something.”

“Translation? To what language?” Pav asks.

“From Spanish to English. And I heard Miles knows a bit.”

“Ah…wait, but doesn’t Miguel fully speak it?” Pav pauses. “Yeah, he’d know a lot more than Miles.”

You nod. “He just won’t tell me.” You mutter under your breath.

“What was that?” Pav asks, brows furrowed.

You look back up. “Miguel’s just kind of busy right now.” You had no idea if he was or not. “And so I thought Miles might be free.”

“I see.” Pav nods. “Come on, I’ll help you find him.” Pav begins to head down one of the paths in the communal area where bunches of spider variants sat and stood talking.

“Miles!” Pav called out to nowhere in particular. “Miles!?”

“Is yelling his name really gonna help?” Your brows furrow.

“I like to think yelling will conjure up the whole ‘spider-sense’ thing.” Pav says, still gazing around. “Wait, maybe I need to sound more in distress.”

You chuckle, looking around. And that’s when you spot Miles and Gwen. “Miles!” You walk over with a smile. Pav is hot on your heels.

Miles turns, and copies your smile. “Y/n, hey.”

“Okay look, I’m sorry to ask this but can you translate something for me?” You ask, hopeful.

Miles tilts his head slightly. “Yeah, sure. As long as it isn’t French, or Dutch, or Russian. Or practically any language I don’t know.”

Your smile widens. “No, no. None of those. It’s just Spanish.”

“Oh.” Miles stands straighter. “I’ll warn you I don’t know a heck of amount. But I can give it go.”

“Thank you.” You grow more excited in way. All of last night you had been thinking about what you had said, really trying not to just roll over and grab your phone.

“Okay, so it’s two sentences.” You begin. Miles nods. “The first one is…’Me encantaría usar…tu cama para otras…cosas’.” You say it somewhat slowly, making sure you got it right.

When you look back to Miles, he’s staring at you blinking. You stare back. “What?” You ask.

“Um.” He scratches the back of his head. “I’m probably hearing it wrong.” He mutters to himself before he’s looking back to an expectant you.

“What was the second one?” He asks, a little more curious this time.

“Uh…’¿No crees que…me vería bonita atrapada entre…tus sábanas?’”

Now miles is staring at you. You eye him, brows furrowed. “What does it mean?”

He coughs. “Who said that to you?”

“Oh, no I said it to someone.” You answer. “Well, they asked me to say it…”

“You said it someone…” he drifts off, slightly gulping.

“What? Is it…bad?” Your brows are further furrowed. “Come on, Miles, please. I’ve been dying to know what it means all of last night.”

“Well, the first one…it means ‘I’d love to use your bed for other things’.” He mutters it out extremely quickly. That you think you don’t catch it right.

“What?”

“And the second one means ‘don’t you think I’d look pretty trapped in your sheets?’.” Miles’ has looked away, scratching the back of his neck again, clearly a fraction flustered.

This time you’re staring at him, or more so through him. Then you blink. “What?” You repeat stupidly. That can’t be right. Why did miguel ask you to say something about his bed…

Now you weren’t dumb you were just…in shock. Because how does that make sense. And as the words settle in your mind a little more, you begin to feel the familiar burn in your stomach.

Recently your skin had begun to feel hot. In specific scenarios, around a specific someone. Every moment that he had touched you in some way you had either been injured, or fainting, so you hadn’t realised the reactions in the moment. But now, having your mind clear and your body healthy enough your skin grows prickly.

Then there was the touches on your chin…

At first you thought that they were a form of showing his superiority. It seemed like something he’d do. But when you really thought about it, you realised that he wasn’t grabbing Peter’s face like that, he wasn’t leaning over a chair that Gwen was sitting at.

Now you’ve grown hot. And your cheeks are probably bright red, considering how Pav is eyeing you. “Um.” You nod. You don’t know why you’re nodding. You just need to do something that isn’t stare off into space.

“Who, um, asked you to say that?” Gwen asks.

You shift your gaze to her, still slightly stuck in your own head. You felt the urge to fan yourself, but realised how implicating that would seem. Miguel got you to say that stuff? That seemed to be a repeating question in your head.

“Oh, uh, nobody.” You didn’t really want to tell them that it was Miguel. You felt it would put pressure on something that you were sure wasn’t even something. It wasn’t…right?

But now as you quickly thank miles and skim past them, your mind is whirring. Did Miguel…? You press your lips together at the thought, unbuttoning the first button of your dress shirt. You were sure you were reading into it. Though…part of you was actually hoping the underlying meaning you were thinking of was the truth.

You were even slightly shocked at yourself at this revelation. It’s as if it had always been on the tip of your tongue. Not falling off because Miguel is well…Miguel.

;;

“What was that about?” Pav asks, watching your leaving form. Gwen watches you go as well, eyes narrowing in her own inspection.

Miles was still going over the sentences in his head, really double checking he got them right. “Yeah…nah, that’s right.” He mutters. “My translations right.”

“Who asked her—“

“Asked who what?” Hobie appeared, clearly just back from a mission, as he leaned against Miles, resting his arm on his shoulder.

“Y/n.” Gwen says. “She asked Miles to translate something for her.”

“See, I knew this guy would be helpful.” Hobie slightly shakes Miles’ shoulders.

“I think someone has a crush on y/n.” Pav says, making Hobie shift his gaze to him.

“Who?” Miles asks, suddenly interested in the small ordeal.

Pav shrugs, but Hobie shakes his head, scoffing. Pav hadn’t seen you and Miguel interact a hell of a lot. Gwen didn’t pay that much attention to people’s gazes, and Miles was well…new. So, maybe Hobie could give them a break, but he still couldn’t believe how oblivious they were.

Hobie began to figure out Miguel’s little crush on you when Miguel had called him in for a last minute mission that Miguel could have easily done himself. He hadn’t needed Hobie.

And when Miguel’s jaw clenched at the mention of how he was supposed to be hanging out with you, Hobie began to clock on.

“Come on, you lot.” Hobie says staring at them. “Tell me, who speaks Spanish here? Fluently?”

Gwen looks down, thinking. “Miguel.”

Hobie nods. “Uh huh.” He presses, seeing their slightly furrowed brows. “Oh bloody hell, you lot are thick.”

“Oh…” Pav mutters. “Oh!” He realises, and Hobie gestures to him, sighing in relief.

“Thank anarchy.” He mutters, thankful one person caught on.

“Miguel likes y/n?!” Pav practically exclaims, earning a few side glances from other spider variants.

“It’d seem so.” Hobie smirks.

;;

Later that evening, you stood, not meaning to feel as flushed as you were. Standing in front of Miguel's bedroom door, you felt hot, your breathing quickening. After having found out what he got you to say—and having gone through the stages of confusion, denial and then shock—you've arrived back to sweaty palms.

You take a breath, knocking, but instead of the solid feel of the door, your hand falls through, the door having been cracked open a fraction—your nervous state must have forced you not to notice. It swings wider and your breath hitches.

Miguel's room is a mess, and not just his bed this time. Things are smashed, and his chair is thrown, lying lifeless on the floor. You then shift your gaze up to a heaving Miguel. He finally notices your presence, meeting your wide eyes.

Miguel had always been someone who was controlled. Sure, he got agitated easy, and clearly had some anger issues to deal with, but 'messy' was never a word you associated with him. And here he was hair ruffled, wet from the outside rain, and covering part of his eyes. His chest heaved to a mismatched beat, as his nose twitched in a snarl, his fangs very visible in the dim light. He looked like the definition of ‘a mess’.

"What are you doing here?" His low tone breaks you from your silent stance, your lips coming closed to rub against each other in...thought? You weren't entirely sure.

You gulp. "Did something...happen?" You scan his body for injuries, but find none. You glance at his open window. "Did you go on a mission?"

"Did you need something?" Miguel doesn't mean for his tone to come out so harshly. And watching your face twitch a fraction made him grind his teeth in annoyance at himself.

"I was going to ask you something, but..." Now you weren't so sure that this moment was the right one.

Miguel gulps, turning slightly away from you. "If you have nothing to say…go."

Yes, Miguel was acting clip and rude with you. And yes...maybe he did turn away so he wouldn't see your expressions. But then he hears your steps slowly draw closer. He shifts his gaze back to you.

Right now was the worst time to see you, he didn't want you to see him, he wanted you to go.

"I thought you had nothing to say?" Miguel briskly asks, but you caught the slight crack in his harsh tone. A crack that displayed a mix of emotions—stress, anxiety,...fear?

Before you know it you're moving closer, your feet, the rain and his breathing filling the other wise silent room. "Now's not a good time." His tone cracked even more. This time with anger.

You stop, a decent distance away. And maybe you should leave, leave him to this. But what is this? You voice that. "What is this?" 'This' as in the mess. 'This' as in Miguel's body language. He looked like he was not even a minute away from exploding.

"Are you...okay?"

Part of Miguel's facade broke at that. "I'm perfectly fine. Do I not look it?" He spits this, fully turning to you. Some droplets of water, that had drenched his hair slides down his cheek.

You know not to be taken aback by Miguel's words. But you'd never seen the word 'crazed' written in his eyes before...'frantic'. "No...you don't look it." You say, eyeing him. "You look...you don't look like yourself."

Miguel mockingly nods, his tongue dragging across one of his fangs, and actually drawing blood. "Right." He forcibly chuckles. "I forgot, I'm supposed to look...what? Composed? On task? In control?" He's stepped closer to you, each word coming out like a snarl.

"Not everything stays the same." Miguel is saying. "Not everything goes the way we plan." He grits out 'plan' like he despises the word altogether.

And as you glance from his hair to the window, to then his too clean of a suit, you realise something. It wasn't a mission, but he had gone somewhere.

"Miguel, where did you go?"

"I didn't go anywhere." He scoffs out.

"Yes you did." You say, narrowing your eyes in thought. And maybe now would be a good time to leave, leave him be. But of course you wouldn't, 'worry' now tieing you up tight. Then you pause. "Why are talking about things that don't go to plan? What hasn't gone to plan?"

"You know, you can be real nosy sometimes." Miguel wanted to punch himself. Why did he say that? You had never been nosy, only observant. Maybe too much for your own good, but it was surely a talent of yours. And here he was shaming you.

But in this moment you weren't fazed. Something was wrong. "Miguel, you've clearly just come in here angry. You're hair's wet from the rain, so obviously recently. Your room is a mess. It's never a mess. You're...never a mess."

"Oh, plenty of things can become a mess, y/n."

"Yeah, but never you. Sure, you've gotten angry before, but you've never trashed a room. There's glass on the floor...you broke that mirror." You gesture to the one hanging on the wall, a prominent fist imbedded in the middle.

"Don't tell me you're gonna deduce where I've fucking been by the glass?!" He was yelling. Not at you. Never at you. At himself. But he's always been very good at projecting. Especially when you're around.

"No." You breathe. "I'm asking you." You say, letting a hint of your concern shine through. You were concerned. Very concerned. Maybe Miguel would have noticed your concern, if he wasn't slowly loosing it. If the messed up room wasn't enough of a tell, he's hit his peak.

"What happened?" You ask again, and this time you finally get a response.

"I fucked up, okay?!" He exclaims, his heart pounding a mile a minute. "I can't take it back. And I've tried. I've really tried. But you know what? Maybe this is meant to happen. Maybe I'm meant to screw everything up."

You stare at him. "What are you talking about?"

"I..." Miguel drifts off, fisting his already disheveled hair. "I let them take it..." Hs voice has softened. But not to a nice kind of softened—a broken one.

You step a fraction closer. "Who? And take what?"

You can visibly see Miguel's strength ebbing away. He looks exhausted, and all in all done. Done with everything. You didn't like that look, you didn't like the inclination of it. "Miguel." You say slowly.

But he's going farther and farther back into his mind, getting tangled up in thoughts you could tell had begun to haunt him. Screwed up? What had he supposedly screwed up?

Then before your mind could work on overdrive, millions of questions wanting to surface, and before Miguel could step further back from reality, you stepped much, much closer, reaching up on your tip toes. And then you wrapped your arms around his neck...hugging him.

Miguel is frozen. Entirely frozen. His mind stops trying to murder him and the drowning sounds in his ears fade away. Now he can hear your breathing, a nervous beat clear. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know if he should do what he’s thinking.

But then you’re slowly drawing back, arms leaving his body. And he can’t have that. He swiftly wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back to him, as his hands clench around your shirt.

Your breathing hitches as Miguel’s breath hits your collarbone, his head choosing to rest in the crook of your neck, his lips grazing part of your skin.

No. He had told himself he wouldn’t think like that anymore. It was exhausting, and he was tired enough as is. His grip tightened around you. To all the doubtful voices in his head, he was using you to say ‘shut the hell up’.

You could feel Miguel’s entire body practically slump against yours. And though your cheeks were red hot, and your heart was screaming you wrapped your arms back around his neck, your wrists meeting together by his hair.

For once Miguel heard silence. He had always had too many voices in his head telling him this and that. And that ‘this was what has to be done’ and that ‘no, you can’t get distracted’.

Now he felt a much relieving calmness engulfing him. You. His breathing slightly shuddered against your neck, the open of his mouth leading his fangs to lightly brush across your skin.

You shivered at this, earning Miguel to lean his head back. But he didn’t let your waist go. You stopped those voices and he’d be damned if he let you step away from his body now.

Your breathes met, as did your gaze. You were close, the seeming millimetre making you seem even more so. You could feel Miguel’s fingers fiddle slowly with the back of your shirt, your front still pressed against his.

“I’m…” You gulp, your voice coming out much shakier than you intended. “Sorry…I probably shouldn’t have hugged you.” You could practically taste his breath.

“Yeah…you probably shouldn’t have.” His tone is breathy, sounding out of body, as his gaze flickers to your lips.

They’re dry—of course. And now at the close proximity licking them made you feel ten times hotter. You prayed he couldn’t see your blushing cheeks.

“I’m sorry that I just…sorta came in.” You felt you had to fill in the silence. Miguel didn’t seem to mind it though, cause it meant that he could listen to your voice. And replacing your voice with the one’s in his head is probably the smartest choice he could ever make.

Well maybe the second smartest choice… He stared at your freshly wet lips, breathing harder. His thoughts had changed from ‘how much more could he take’ to ‘how much more…more…more’. He wanted more. More of your closeness, this seemed to not be enough.

In response to his thoughts his hands glided up your back, making your body lean more against him. Chest to chest.

“A-and I probably shouldn’t have assumed all that stuff…” you breathe out, as Miguel tilts his head, looking down at you. It’s safe to say your were flustered.

“I think you did alright.” He partially whispered.

“Well…you’re not throwing a chair..so..” Stupid, stupid, stupid—you think to yourself. “I mean…”

And to your shock you notice his lips begin to curve up. And not just to stop at a certain point. No. His lips continued to widen until he was smiling. An actual, genuine smile, that oozed amusement, and it made him look…happy?

“Careful.” You say. “You look like you’re expressing a ‘sparkly emotion’.”

“Oh no.” His grin doesn’t fall, and it only makes your heart beat faster. “We wouldn’t want that…would we?”

You quickly shake your head, and Miguel presses his lips together with further amusement, his eyes darting. “…cute.”

You freeze. And Miguel seems to realise his small slip up, as his eyes grow a fraction wider. He had slipped up in English. Goddamn English. You understood.

But what he didn’t know was that you understood a lot more than just that word. And as the reason for your arrival to his room came back to you, the simple word ‘cute’ seemed to mean a whole lot, lot more.

I’m sorry this one’s kinda short, and not too much is going on. but I wanted them to have a close moment like this before they…well…y’know.

at this point I’ve decided to do nine parts (it fits better) so next part…mhm…FINALLY we can get some closer HaPpIniNgS

plus next part im gonna go onto a deeper dive of where Miguel went and who the masked men are — i just needed a bit of tension filled fluff

taglist: @dangerousdreamkitty @ale-maral @inosukesweirdwife @flooftoof @cynicallyaestetic @silassinclair @mariiyoushi @ilovedilfjake @toastlover21 @wlellsl @k1rbbo @bitchotine @guacam011y @blnk338 @wolfiepirate @kurxxmi @corpsebridenightamare @ohantonia @yunonaneko @irenered-20 @z3r0art @sunflowercandie @perilous-pasta @gloriouskryptonitecrown @whyamistillhere78 @ritzzzsblog @mm1sta @tealcoloured-murder @aweebsimp101 @livelaughlaurv @s0dium @roguepancake @sunshiines-stuff @internal-soundtrack @oscarisdaddy69 @clairacassidy @captainquake42 @nanaloverz @ilyless @sindulgent666 @shine101 @thebadasssass @hibeejibees @nirishin @ily2lia @lillunna @cinnamoncattie @futuristicpandakid @maroonobserver @thatsopanu @edgyficuselastica @kittekat420 @stararctic @maxi-ride @renn-pumkin-head @scaraza @justanotherkpopstanlol @fauxizs @cloudsandrenoswife @ilmovor @larissa-lolll @elliemm @httpkiyoomi @j2warren @arquiiva @ilovemiguelohara @a-monster-can-filled-with-cum @fandom-gal44 @elwyn7 @albiebright

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irishmammonagenda · 2 months

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“What do you think you’re doing?” The Avatar of Gluttony says, uncharacteristically angry, demon form out, bhí a sciatháin ildaite ag bualadh go feargach.

You’re trembling still, the previous altercation sparking in your nerves, although, cool, refreshing relief courses through your veins as you look up at the redhaired Demon.

Beel’s eyes. That was all you could look at. You had seen a plethera of emotions painted in his purple pupils, most commonly serenity, or joy, hunger or thirst, less commonly sadness poisoned his expression, rarely anger, annoyance yes, the expression he’d make before he went on a rampage that was a mix between hunger and anger, yes. But you’d never seen the pure unbridled fury ablaze in his eyes like you were seeing right now.

Not directed at you, never at you. Rather directed at the demon who had tried to give you a beating; Beel had stumbled upon it whilst looking for his twin, and A Thiarna is a Dhia, was he furious. You shivered, it was a scary sight.

Iridescent ildaite wings buzz angrily. The air is thick, Beel runs his tongue over his fangs threateningly, staring menacingly at the demon, who, gaining its senses, flees, tail between its legs. Beel lets it run, having a longtime learned from Lucifer how to play an cluiche cleasach.

Besides, letting the demon wallow in its fear for a while would make it taste a lot better when he disposed of the threat.

He wouldn’t tell you that, though, to protect your soft, pure, sparkling human soul.

Leaving you alone with a seething Demon, you trembled. Normally, you would trust Beelzebub with your life, but the sheer power buzzing around him paired with the rage doused you in icy cold water, a strong reminder that your reisdent softy was ifnfact capable of horrors beyond you comprehension.

You whimper, Beel snaps his head towards you in an instant, the fury in his eyes softening. Suddenly, his hands are on you, pulling you into strong arms. You shake involuntarily.

Beel coos at you in a language long dead, the syllables are harsh and guttural, like waves crashing into the shore. A huge hand comes up to pet your hair, so gentle it almost hurts.

You stay there for a while, in that empty classroom, enveloped in Beel’s arms. Slowly but surely you lean into his touch, your heartrate calmed, your head resting against his muscled chest, it was silly to think even for a moment that he would hurt you, laughable even.

divider by @saradika-graphics

dia daoibh (hello to you [plural]) grma for reading as per usual 🫶🫶, heres the meanings of the words:

‘A Thiarna is a Dhia’ (A year-nah is a Yee-ah’) is a way of saying, ‘Goodness Gracious’/‘Good God’ etc

as per usual I cant write pronounciations😔

‘An Cluiche Cleasach’ (An Clue-Heh Clah-Sa) -The Sneaky Game’, bc i have no idea how to say the long game in irish and cluiche fada sounds wrong.

Now for the big one😰:

‘bhí a sciatháin ildaite ag bualadh go feargach.’

(pronounced: Vee ah Scee-ah-han ill-dat-che egg beh-whale-oo go fair-eh-gawk’)

as per usual the ‘k’ sound in feargach is pronounced with your throat, its technically right to just pronounce it ‘k’ (like the word chick in english) but its not the way native speakers pronounce it‼️

this roughly translates to: ‘His colourful wings were flapping angrily’

bualadh comes from the verb ‘buail’ which can mean a lot of things, but paired with ‘ag’ and ‘sciatháin’ it means ‘flapping wings’

heres a photo of me trying to explain it, please ignore my handwriting i tried to make it neat😔✊

#also i have an ask im working on and im actually really enjoying writing it #for anyone wondering i like to add 🇮🇪 words in my fics/drabbles bc i can and i want to #i cant speak fluently but i can get by; i like getting to hopefully teach yousens some words and revise my own vocab #bc in my opinion languages should be shared; irish is a class language as well so (im biased)#obey me imagines #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me headcanons #omswd #obey me mc #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel x reader #beelzebub x reader #om! beelzebub #om! beel x reader #obey me drabble

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bbrissonn · 8 months

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𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭? - 𝐥𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

summary: in which you tell the tucrotte boy about your relationship

disclaimer: english is not my first language and this is not proofread so please excuse any errors and if any words are missing add them in your head :) also this is a work of fiction, this doesn’t reflect how these boys act in real life, and it isn’t how i imagine them acting

warnings: couple of swear words, not proofread,

pairing: luke hughes x y/n zegras (lemon au)

wc: 1.7k

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-MID JUNE '23-

Being Trevor’s little sister, Alex Turcotte was no stranger to you, no he was practically another brother to you. The two hockey players have always been close during their NTDP days, but their bond only grower closer and deeper as they arrived in their neighboring cities to start their professional hockey careers. At first, the two were always together, getting tattoos at the same time, something you teased them about, going to check out cars, everything they did, the other was right next to him.

Over the time, your own friendship with the Chicago native grew, and he was the first person you’d talk to whenever you had problems you didn’t want your actual brothers to know about. He was one of the first to know about your new friendship with the youngest Hughes, the defenceman also seeing the Turcotte boy as an older brother since he lived with them for two years. It was safe to say Alex was over the moon when he found out his “adopted little siblings”, as he liked to call the two of you, were finally friends.

When you and Luke got together, you both wanted to tell Alex more than anyone else, but you both knew how bad he was at keeping secrets, getting too excited about them and blurring them out without even noticing. So, it was a mutual decision to not tell him before your brothers, not wanting him to tell your real siblings about your relationship.

You were pretty good at acting like nothing was going on whenever he’d question you about the Hughes boy, but for Luke, that was a different story. The boy stuttered everything he’d have to answer the simplest question about you, how you were doing, how your classes were, it all made Luke so nervous.

The worst time was when Alex called him while the two of you were studying in his room together, you could hear his voice coming from Luke’s phone speaker slightly, holding back a laugh as you heard your name being said. Your boyfriend looking at you with wide eyes, stuttering over his words as he informed the Turcotte boy that you were right next to him.

Their call ended with Alex asking the young boy to tell you he’d be calling soon, and Luke waisted no time hanging the phone and letting out a loud sigh as a laugh erupted from you. For the next week or so, you took every chance you got to tease him about how nervous he was, his face growing red everytime you’d mention it.

Now, here you sat on the dock of Jack and Quinn’s home in Michigan, your feet barely touching the water as birds sang in the air, the sound of the family a couple of houses over swimming being heard. It was early in the morning, none of the boys were up yet, having stayed up late last night considering today was a day off, meaning you had peace and quiet for what felt like the first time in almost a week.

You had been invited by the middle Hughes brother months ago when they were planning this, before you and Luke we’re even together, still in the early stage of your friendship. But, even if Jack hadn’t personally invited you, Luke would’ve asked you to come, or Trevor would’ve dragged you there, tired of hearing Cole complain about how excited he was to see his favorite Swifty, the boy deciding to buy you tickets to the show in Detroit for your birthday.

You had now been a resident of the Hughes’ brothers lake house for almost two weeks now, and sneaking around the boys had been pretty easy so far. They weren’t the smartest out there, and they also just never knew what was going on around them, making it pretty easy for you two to sneak around at night or even during the day. You and Luke both thought you were doing amazing at keeping your relationship a secret from the boys, well at least from his brothers and Cole, Alex though, he was different.

Whenever you and your boyfriend would be sitting next to each other on the boat, casually talking, the boy would always be looking over at the two of you. You ignored it though, thinking it was probably just weird for him to actually see the two of interacting for the first time, but that all quickly changed the night before your brother was supposed to arrive in Michigan.

You were sitting at the end of the dock, your feet barely touching the water as your eyes were stucked on the sunset in front of you. The lake was quiet, it always was during this time of day, most families either eating a late dinner outside or already starting a firecamp, which is what the boys were doing at the moment.

Firecamp time mainly included them arguing about who got to do what, and at first you would just watch and laugh, but eventually you grew tired of their childish bickering and decided the dock would be where you spent your time while you waited for them to do done. You liked to consider it your alone time for the day, considering the house was never silent until everyone went to sleep and the noise would start again early in the morning before they left to train.

You used the hours they were gone to sleep, since sleep hand’t came until the early hours of the morning staying up late in Luke’s room until the boy fell asleep before slipping back into yours, that you’d soon be sharing with Trevor.

“Hey.” Alex said, sitting down next to you. His voice made you jump slightly, lost in your thoughts, a small chuckle leaving his mouth at his reaction. “Sorry.”

“You’re good.” You told him, smiling slightly at him before focusing back on the sight in front of you.

“You okay?” The boy asked after a couple of minutes of silence, his words making you look over at him with a confused look on your face.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. I just feel like there’s something… weird going on with you.” He mumbled. You bit the inside of your cheek slightly before looking back in front of you, the action going unnoticed by the older boy.

“I am normal.” You said confused, making Alex let out a laugh.

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N/N. It just feels like you’re hiding something, that’s what I meant by weird.” He explained after his laugh died down. You once again bit your the inside of your cheek, this time your action didn’t go unnoticed by the hockey player. His elbow nudge when he noticed how silent you were being. “Talk to me.”

“Can you keep a secret?” You whispered, your eyes now focused on the water below your feet.

“Mh-hm.”

“Luke and I are dating.” You admitted, your voice low, almost scared someone would hear. The boy next to you stayed quiet for a while, making you a little worried.

“Old news.” Alex said after almost a minute, making your head whip towards him with wide eyes. “Z couldn’t shut up about it, freaked out a little when he found out you two were already at the L word stage.”

“Trev told you?”

“Told all of us, we all know. That’s why I thought something was wrong, you and Luke weren’t acting like Trev describe the two of you. Asked Moose about it, why you were acting weird, said he thought you were acting pretty normal.” The curly headed boy explained, a soft grin on his face.

“Trev’s an asshole, I told him not to tell anyone.”

“You really expected him to be able to keep any kind of secret? He spammed our groupchat at like midnight, Jack wasn’t happy to get woken up.”

“How’d Jack react?”

“I think he’s scared. If something bad happens between you two, it’s gonna be weird for him and Z to act like nothing happened. And if nothing bad happens, he’s scared he’s gonna be stuck being brother’s in-law with him.” The boy explained. A part of you almost started feeling guilty for maybe ruinning your brother’s friendship, but you knew Luke was the one for you.

“Ellen said he’s never seen him like this.” You admitted, a smile of your own appearing on your face as your cheeks became a slight shade of pink.

“Can’t believe you didn’t tell me though, how long as it been?”

“Almost six months. December 14th.” You told him, a small gasp leaving his mouth.

“I am wounded!” He exclaimed, his right hand coming up to rest on top of his heart, making you roll your eyes. “We’ve only known since like April!”

After a couple of minutes of talking about your relationship with the youngest Hughes boy, you and Alex made your way back to the firecamp after Cole had called out for them. Once you had made it back, you saw Luke standing along in the kitchen, his back facing the outside. You excused yourself quietly before making your way in with a grin on your face.

Since the patio door was always left open, your boyfriend didn’t hear you, so when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist, it’s safe to say he freaked out a little. The cup he was holding fell on the counter, the drink he had made spilling everywhere as a yelp left his mouth.

“It’s just me Lemon.” You mumbled as you poked your head above his shoulder, standing on your tippy toes. His body turned slightly, grabbing your waist before bringing you in front of him, a yelp of your own echoing in the kitchen.

Before the defensemen had time to say anything, you quickly connected your lips together. You hands reaching to the back of his head and his neck, holding his body close to yours as your lips moved together. Whistles and howlers could be heard from the boys outside, making Luke pull away from you.

“What’re you―”

“They know, Lu, they’ve known. Since April, because Trevor can’t keep his fucking mouth shut.” You explained, Luke smiling down at your brightly before connecting your lips again. His arms now completely wrapped around your waist as he pulled your body to his as possible.

“I love you, Munchkin.”

“I love you more, Lemon.”

#bri writes #luke hughes #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes fic #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x y/n zegras #lemon au #alex turcotte #trevor zegras #cole caufield #jack hughes

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venomous-ragno · 1 year

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What nicknames do they call their partner?

I take requests btw ;)

Tags: CoD x you, gn!reader but use of female nicknames, sfw, fluff, Ghost x reader, Price x reader, Soap x reader, Gaz x reader, Alejandro Vargas x reader, König x reader, Rodolfo x reader

Warnings: Never proofread :D (German native speaker so don't come for me for König's part,,, Austrian German is an entirely different language and it's mystery to us Germans how it works ok)

Masterlist

Ghost isn't the most fluffy person when it comes to nicknames; he mostly used them during sex and can be quite creative then. Outside of the bedroom he mostly sticks to doll, dollface and princess. Never in public let alone during work though.

Price prefers the more simple route. He calls you by nickname in private only, chuckles when you tell him he sounds cheesy, doesn't deny himself the satisfied grin when you call him by nicknames too. His favourites are love, darling and dearest. The classics.

Gaz likes to be cheeky. Playful teasing is one of his ways to show love, so he'll actively search for embarassing, old fashioned, over the top names. Don't worry though, he'll stick to more passable ones when others are around. Sweetcheeks and sugar tits in private, sunshine in public.

Soap is a man of passion, a man far from afraid to show everyone he's yours and you're his. His nicknames are filled with love but can change in meaning just by the tone he calls you in. A big fan of nicknames in the bedroom too, such as: Babe, baby and devil. Soap never tires of declaring you his.

König. Oh, sweet, genuine König. Not the most creative one, but a big fan of nicknames nonetheless. There's just something about them to him, like little declarations of love. Lots of German nicknames, ever changing; schatz (treasure), häschen (little bunny) and engel (angel) are his go to. In English he'll stick to cupcake, no matter your protests.

Alejandro promised to love you with all he is, and he's never broken a promise. His nicknames are testaments to how alive you make him feel, of the want to live your sole presence ignites in him. Spanish rolls off his tongue easily: Mi amor, mi vida, light of my life. Not a speck of shame to be found when he calls you by those in front of others.

Rodolfo tends to use nicknames absentmindedly, and has called you by some during work, when his comrades happened to be around. They laugh it off, happy he's found someone, but he prefers to keep such things private. Has definitely called Alejandro by a nickname on accident once. Imagine the colonel's smirk at being called carinõ / carinã, mi corazón and sweetheart.

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littlexscarletxwitch · 11 months

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Hi, I saw that you request is open, so is it okay if I request a Natasha x fem!R in a secret relationship and Nat always leave a hickey in R's neck and the team kept on asking R where did it come from and R will answer "just a spider bite" and the team thought it came from Peter, but Peter denies it, until Nat calls R a pet name and they kissed in front of the team. Thank you!

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗲

paring: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

tag(s): fluff, the team being the team, i love clint and nat so much, also civil war never happened in this timeline (lol)

warning(s): grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 0.8k

note: OMG MY FIRST NAT FIC!. I had so much fun writing this, thank you for letting me write out your idea, nonnie. I kinda changed it a little bit, I hope that's okay. Sorry it's kinda short. I'm not a native english speaker, so please let me know about any sort of mistake. Hope you guys enjoy! <3

requests are open! + check my rules + masterlist <3

Your breath hitched as you felt her soft wet lips on your neck.

“Natty, stop. You are going to leave a hickey,” you tried to sound annoyed but clearly you were enjoying the situation.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to do,” you heard her mumble against your skin.

“Nat, they are going to find out if you keep on marking me,” you chuckled.

“I don’t care, detka. Let them know who you belong to,” you could hear the grin on her face.

“You are the worst,” you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

[...]

“Again. This time punch harder, Y/n. Imagine you're fighting for your life,” Steve said, trying to help you out.

Your head fell back in annoyance, you had been throwing punches at the punching bag for the last hour. Your arms were sore, your feet hurt from standing and you felt like you could just die any second now.

“Hey, what’s that on your neck?” you heard Bucky said next to Steve.

Your hand immediately went up to cover the hickey. You had tried your best to put some makeup on it, but clearly you hadn’t done a good job.

“What is it?” you tried to play dumb, which was no use. The boys standing in front of you knew better than that, they could see right through you.

“Looks like a bruise,” Steve raised his brow at you.

“Spider bite,” you mumbled.

“What was that?” Steve asked, not having heard anything you had just said. But Bucky had heard perfectly.

“Oh, nothing. It’s probably a mosquito bite,” you shrugged it off.

Steve and Bucky looked at each other. Sure, Steve may seem innocent and cute but he knew better, and that was no mosquito bite. Bucky could tell that it was a hickey even from a mile away. Still, they played along.

“Yeah, sure,” Steve shrugged it off.

“Come on, again,” Bucky said, nodding to the punching bag. Smile creeping on his face as knew he would use this new information later on.

[...]

“So, you two have been spending a lot of time together recently…” Tony said, entering the kitchen. There was something about his tone that sent a shiver up your spine. He was up to something.

Tony walked in while you and Peter were having an afternoon snack, you were helping him out with his homework. Well, you weren’t actually helping him, you were telling him everything about your relationship with Natasha while he was trying to do his homework. He was the only one who knew that the two of you were dating and was the only person who didn’t mind hearing you rambling nonstop about your badass girlfriend.

“Yeah, we have been training together, what about it?”

“Nothing at all, Barnes said something and I was just curious,” he said nonchalantly.

“What did he say?” Peter chimed in, finally looking away from his books.

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the situation, “Well, he said that the thing on your neck isn’t a mosquito bite, more like a spider bite,” he winked at the two of you.

You and Peter shared a look and a second later the two of you were laughing.

“You think he gave me the ‘spider bite’,” you said in between laughs.

“Y/n, they think we are dating,” Peter put a hand over his belly trying to hold back his laughter.

“Wait, you didn’t give her that hickey?” Tony asked seriously.

“No, Mr. Stak, what makes you think that?” the boy next to you said once he was done laughing.

“I just thought… Barnes said… But Steve thought,” Tony couldn’t say a word, confusion was written all over his face.

Just when he was about to say a coherent sentence another person walked in the kitchen.

“Hey, detka,” Natasha said and pecked your lips.

“Wait what?!” Tony screamed.

Soon enough more people found their way into the kitchen because of Tony.

“What’s going on?” you heard Bucky said.

“Is everyone okay?” Steve stepped in, always the gentleman.

“Nat’s the spider,” Tony simply answered.

“What?” the two of them asked in unisom.

“Y/n’s spider?” Clint chimed in.

“Yes. All this time I thought it was Parker,” Tony said in annoyance.

“I don’t understand why this is a big deal…” you tried to say but someone cut you off.

“Pay up, losers,” Clint cheered.

“What?” you and Nat complained at the same time.

“They had a bet. This is actually really funny,” Peter said, trying to hold back from laughing so hard.

“Goddamin it, Y/n,” Tony protested.

You watched as the three men gave each a fifty-dollar bill to Clint. You couldn’t help to playfully roll your eyes at them, they were like children.

“It’s okay, malyshka. Let them be,” Nat said before softly kissing your lips.

“Okay, yeah, that’s our cue,” you heard Clint say.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff fluff #requests by lovely anons ‘๑’

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finnsbubblegum · 1 year

Text

Will You Forgive Me? (Joel Miller x Reader)

Pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, jealousy, possessiveness, smut, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys) (lmk if i missed any)

Summary: After a fight with Joel, you decided to go to the bar and got drunk. He got angry and apologized to you in his own way. 😏

Words count: 1.4k

A/N: Hi! I’m not a native English speaker so I’m sorry if I have grammar mistakes or the sentences come up unnatural, please be nice and I'm open for suggestions. I hope you like the smut I’m writing because I am inexperienced lol. I hope you enjoy it.

You got in your car, hesitating to drive, hoping Joel would come out and stop you. But he wasn’t there. So you drove away and went to the bar called Ray’s where you usually drank with him. You found a seat and drank a lot. You started feeling tipsy and you decided to call him.

“Hey handsome, I take it back. We’re not breaking up. Ugh. No. I’m done. I don’t care. Uhm. I. Uhm. Don’t call me. Why are you calling me?” You were drunk and you thought he called you when you were the one who called him.

“Are you drunk? Where are you?” Joel grabbed his jacket and rushed to his car, and he was getting worried.

“Why do you care? You don’t love me.” You laughed.

“Tell me right now! Where are you?” He raised his voice and started to get angry.

“You know where, here, there, at Ra- Hey! Did you just grab my ass? Fuck you!” You hung up and confronted the drunk guy.

“Fuck!” Joel started his car and drove as fast as he could to the bar. He guessed it's Ray's since your call was cut off and it’s the only bar you’ve gone to together.

His blood was boiling as he walked in the bar and found the drunk guy was hugging you as you tried to pull away. He came to you and pushed the guy. You gasped as Joel punched the guy.

He gave a death stare and yelled, “You stay away from my girl!”

Joel grabbed your wrist and dragged you out of the bar. His grip was very strong and it was hurting you.

You tried to release your wrist from him, “Joel, stop it, you’re hurting me, it hurts.”

He didn’t care. He kept dragging you and put you into the passenger seat of his car and slammed the door. You were scared, you have never seen him this angry before. As he got in the driver’s seat, he hit the steering wheel.

"What the fuck were you thinkin'?!" Joel clenched his jaw and stared at you.

“Oh! Now you care, huh?” You scoffed.

Joel growls. He didn’t say anything.

“My head hurts. Will you just take me to my house?” You asked Joel.

The whole way to your house was just silence. Joel parked his car into the driveway. You immediately got out of the car and stood in front of your door looking for your keys.

“Fuck! Where is it?” You were annoyed as you couldn’t find your keys.

Joel opened the door with the spare key you gave him. You rolled your eyes as you walked inside and Joel followed you. He pulled you to his chest and kissed you roughly while his foot kicked the door to close it.

“What are you doing?” You sounded irritated and pushed him.

Joel sighed, “I..Uhm..”

“Tell me you love me, Joel.”

Joel cleared his throat, not answering you.

“If you can’t say it then get out.” You were tired of him.

“I..I love you. I mean it. It’s just that..”

“Just what, Joel?”

“I’m not good in expressin’ myself.” He let out a sigh. “I fuckin’ love you. You should know that.”

“Oh, Joel. I just needed to hear those three little words from you. I’m sorry I blew up like that.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I was wrong.” He said it softly as he walked slowly and closer to you.

Your eyes were getting teary and you looked down. Joel’s hands raised your chin to look straight into your eyes. He kissed you deep with his tongue caressing your lips then your tongue touched his. You moaned and put your arms around his neck while his hands on your hips. The two of you kept kissing as he raised your leg to his hips carrying you towards the stairs. He pressed you to the wall after walking up just a few stairs. The kissing never stopped. He held your weight with his strong hips and thighs. He slid his hand under your shirt, massaged your breast, and swallowed your moan. You felt arousal pooling between your legs.

“Touch me, Joel.” You guided his other hand to your cunt and he palmed it with his big hands.

“Already wet for me, darlin’?”

He kneeled and pulled your panties down. His eyes looked hungry when he saw your pussy shining with your slick. He kissed your inner thigh slowly and lovingly before he went to lick your clit.

“Oh, Jooell.” You gasped.

Your breathing was heavy and you pulled his hair which made him let out a moan. He kept licking and slurping you up and down. Your thigh trembled and you knew you needed him.

“Joel, bedroom, now.”

Joel stopped to look at you. You held his hand and dragged him to your room. The kissing and touching continued as the two of you were already in your bedroom. You walked backwards and led him to your bed. You undressed yourself, naked and laid on your back. He climbed on top of you kissing your neck and his fingers played with your nipple. He was a lot bigger than you, his broad shoulder covered all of your body and you could feel his warmth wrapping you.

“Let me ride you, Joel.”

“Not tonight, baby. Let me make you feel good. Let me take care of you tonight, baby.”

You groaned as his words made you even more horny.

“Okay, take care of me tonight, Miller. Fuck me till I can’t walk.”

“I will.” He growled as he stood up beside the bed and pulled his shirt and pants off letting his cock free. You can see a leaking pre-cum on his tip.

He climbed back on top of you, brushed his tip on your clit, covering his cock with your slick before he slowly pushed himself in your entrance. You moaned as it felt so good when he stretched you wide. He rested his hands beside your head to hold his weight and started to move slowly. He started kissing your breast and licking your nipple. He was so good that you loved him doing that to you. You shut your eyes enjoying the night and clenched your hands to his shoulder.

“Fuck! That feels so good. You’re so good, Joel.”

He didn’t answer. He rubbed your clit with his thumb and pinched your nipple with the other hand. He kept doing those moves you loved to please you. He started to think that this position was not enough for you so he shifted you to your stomach and started fucking you from behind. You moaned loudly.

“Can you move faster?” You asked Joel and his thrusts were getting faster.

There was no other sound besides the sound of skin to skin, moans and heavy breathings. He clenched his hands on your hips. You whimpered, bit your hand as you felt you were close.

“Joel, Joel, fuck!” It felt so good that you could only whimper and shout his name.

“Cum for me, baby.” He kept pleasing you.

You panted and felt your vision blurring. You squeezed your eyes shut, hands clenching on the sheets, and screamed his name. You felt your orgasm washed all over your body. You shivered and it felt like heaven. He has made you cum thousand times before but orgasm from makeup sex is your favorite. He let you catch your breath and came down from your orgasm as he laid down beside you. You tried to stand up to clean yourself but you couldn’t walk. Your legs were shaking. Joel really did what you told him to do.

“You really did what I told you, huh?” You chuckled and looked at his face full of sweat.

“I told you I will do it. Fuck you till you can’t walk.” He sounded so sexy when he said that to you with his deep voice.

He got up and walked his way to the bathroom to get a towel and dampen it with water. He came to you and cleaned you up. After he cleaned you, he laid beside you again, pulled you closer to him, wrapped his arm around you, and put your head to his chest.

“I’m sorry, baby. I love you. Will you forgive me?” He apologized to you and kissed your forehead.

“How can I not forgive you after all of this?” You laughed and kissed his chest. In fact, you have even forgotten about the fight with him.

You thought to yourself, “Joel really knows how to apologize in his own way.”

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader #the last of us x you #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction

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walpu · 16 days

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Some people on tiktok are so sex repulsed it's genuinely concerning. I've seen soooo many people saying that making nsfw content with Aventurine/shipping aventio is bad and disrespectful to Aventurine's trauma. And like yeah I've seen some fucked up aventio arts that sexualize slavery but the majority of the fan content is pretty positive and focuses on healing and comfort.

I've seen an argument that after the abuse Aventurine faced he would not want to "lay under a man" and it was not even a weird hc, they were pretty insistent, calling everyone who disagrees with them gross.

Like. Let's ignore the fact that it was never confirmed that Aven was sexually abused and focus on something else (yes, I know than in the original Chinese line his "master" said Aven has a 'good body' but I've also seen the native speakers saying that the line doesn't sound sexual to them, it was a way to say 'you look pretty but that's the only good thing about you' so idk). Quick question. Do you think traumatized people don't have sex? Do you think sex, especially the receiving position, is inherently humiliating? If the answer is yes then unironically go and seek help, it's very unhealthy view on something extremely normal. Also viewing bottoming as something humiliating is deeply rooted in misogyny so maybe do some self reflecting too. Aaaand you're not helping anyone by pushing the idea that traumatized people don't like sex, you are making it worse by indirectly shaming them for enjoying it.

You can love and respect character but also be down bad for them like it's honestly shocking it needs to be said.

#saw so many people saying that shippers erase Aven's personality by reducing him to Ratio's bottom #yet I saw it happening like 2-3 times #and I spend a lot of time in fandom spaces so #maybe the problem is not the shippers but you having some weird views on being a bottom just saying #I'm not even a hardcore aventio shipper just casual enjoyer but damn #hsr #tw sa mention #Aventurine #hsr aventurine

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prophetszendo · 6 months

Text

How the birds fall (pt. 2)

Content warning: suicide

Pairing: Astarion/you (no use of y/n or pronouns)

Summary: this is an alternate ending to part 1. The difference? Just a few seconds.

Word count: 1.4k

Disclaimer: not a native speaker, feel free to point out mistakes or weird sentences.

Astarion layed on his stomach, his torso hanging over the cliff. With one hand, he was holding himself, and with the other, he was reaching down. And he was yelling your name repeatedly, as his hands opened and closed, hoping to feel a piece of clothing, or a hand be caught in it.

But he was just a blink too late.

Back in the night, he was laying awake in his bed. He felt hungry, started to starve, and desperately wanted to feed. Yet he didn’t approach you. He felt like it would have shown his weakness for you, just how much he depends on you. He felt he had been used enough in his life, and didn’t need you to do the same.

He heard you shuffle around in your tent, then leave it. He found nothing strange about it, people can have casual buiness in the night. He expected your return soon, and when the night stayed silent, a thought crossed his mind. Maybe, just maye, you knew it was long since he fed and now you were waiting for him in a more quiet, secluded area.

Astarion got a bit too excitied for his own good. He could definitely not stay still like this, so he also sneaked out into the moonlight. It reminded him of the old times, when he would only be able to be under the sky after the sun set. He quickly shook the memory off, and focused on you. Thanks to his darkvision, he clearly saw which path you took. He beileved he was able to smell you, especially your sweet sweet blood among the trees.

He felt like a hunter, going after his prey in the dark. He quite liked this game.

He followed your trail silently. His boots made no sound, he wanted to suprise you with his arrival. He felt your taste on his tongue already, and he wanted more and more.

He always wanted more.

He slowly reached you. He caught a glimpse of you sitting on a log. You had your back to him, and you didn’t notice him. He noticed that you were facing a cliff. Unusual place for a feast.

Astarion prepared to approach you, when he got the feeling that something was off. He observed you a bit closer, and noticed a few oddities. Your back was hunched way more than usual. On an average day, you carried yourself confidently, but now, you seemed much more fragile, and small. Your breathing was also irregular, which again, was very unlike you.

His first thought was thag you got lost, and something spooked you. Maybe some of the nightlife? He smirked, as he planned to go and save you, and then you would offer yourself to him, and he would get to bite you and finally feel a bit satisfied.

Before he could move, you stood up, and went ro the edge of the cliff. Your head was facing down, and your breathinf stabilized.

Astarion thought you seemed calm.

Then a horrible, horrible suspicion hit him. As you you lifted your arms, as if you wantes to hug the sky in front of you, Astarion shot out of hiding, and started running towards you. His arm raised in front of him, to grab you and pull you back.

As if it was in slow motion, you started to fall. His legs felt entirely way too heavy. Maybe if he wasn’t on the edge of starving, he would have been faster.

But now, he was just a breath too late. His fingers nearly touched you.

You never stopped falling.

And here he was, yelling, screaming your name, hoping that would cast featherfall on you, so you would be alright. He remembered this cliff, the team briefly saw it earlier, and it was endlessly deep. And you were falling into the abyss, even his night seeing gaze couldn’t pierce.

As you disappeared from his sight, he lied there, in complete shock. What just happened? Why would you knowingly jump down into the nothingness?

It must have been the tadpole – and idea raised in Astarions mind. It must have been taking you over, making you stuff you never wantes to. But you were strong minded, you would never let yourself be taken over like this.

A painful memory rose in him. And one more. And another one.

He had noticed your weird expression you had when you thought noone was looking. The glimmer in your eyes were gone and was replaced by dullness. Your smile, which normally seemed to be glued to you was also gone. As if you were a completely different person. Yet, only after a moment or two of him noticing this, your face would go back to the usual, and the fierce and strong leader would come back and solve every problem.

Astarion suddenly felt a tug on his mind and before he could do anything, feelings that weren’t his floded him.

After a second, he realized they were yours. Your last feelings. Just as fast as they came, they were gone.

And so were you.

Astarion cried out in pain. He rolled onto his back, and put his palm over his face, as he started sobbing uncontrollably.

Because it was his fault.

He never payed close attention on how the adveture was for you. He always let you make the hard decisions. No, that wasn’t the right wording. He always made you choose.

No wonder you felt pressured. The feelings he recieved were everything you felt on the edge. His throath narrowed, as he started to untangle, to understand you.

To understand why you would leave him like this.

He had no right to think this way. You were never his, no matter how much he wanted it to happen. He constantly self sabotaged, and denied himself the luxury to trust you and take an honest liking in you. Now, he understood what he denied you and it made him feel more like a monster.

You never made him feel like a monster. No matter what he did. Not even when he sneaked up on you to take a bite, not when you said horrible things, and not when he acted cold towards you on purpose.

You only felt hurt, but you never thought less of him.

He felt lost. Since he met you, he felt some sort of security in his life. You accepted him for who he was, like noone did before. You cared about him, and did anything he asked.

And Astarion never thanked you, or showed anything sincere for it. Now he will never be able to, and regret was taking him over. He took you granted, like how he was taken granted in his past.

He was so taken over by self pity, and how horrible he was, that he failed to see further than himself. If he said a few nice words to you after seeing you so broken, maybe you would be sleeping in your tent now, and not somewhere out of his reach.

If he told you just how much he needed you, maybe now you would be sitting next to him, telling him about your day, sharing the hardships of the trip, and maybe some plans for the future.

He never even asked what you wanted to do after this was over, he realized. This thought caused another set of loud sobs and tears to appear. How could he have been so selfish?

All he ever wanted is to have a future with you. Because with you, he could see further than tomorrow. Maybe a sweet little home in Baldur’s Gate.

Only if he said it out loud.

Only if he told you just how much you are on his mind. How much he wishes to hold you, to caress you, to kiss youm

Only if he told you how much he loved you.

This thought kept swirling in his mind, he couldn’t get rid of it. He sat up, and inched closer to the cliff. He kept his distance, as in his mind he saw you fall again and again. But he looked down, as much as he could.

„I’m... So sorry. I loved... I love you.”

His voice cracked, and he just sat there, crying his aching heart out.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion ancunin

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ms-rampage · 1 year

Text

Fluent When Upset

König x Y/n (fem-reader)

Warnings: Language

Authors note: This is my first time ACTUALLY writing König. I sort of based it off on this

I apologize for the butchered German 😂😅

You have been living in Austria for 3 years now. You and König have been together for 5 years. As time went by, and you discovered you were pregnant with a baby boy that König was absolutely excited about.

Aside from all that, you did struggle to learn the German language once you settled in, the only time you did speak it properly (or at least you think it is) when you get mad or annoyed, and König rarely to never upsetted, nor annoyed you. It only comes out when you stub your toe on the table, or when you hit your head, or when someone on a bike or scooter nearly hits you when you cross the street.

This day, you went to the store to do a little bit of grocery shopping, and you took your son with you in his stroller. He needed some fresh air after being in the house all day. König was on the fence about going with you. He went against his anxiety, and went with you two.

"You don't have to come." you tell him, while putting your jacket on, "I just need to buy a few things for dinner."

"I know, liebe, I just want to make sure you're both safe." he tells you, figetting with the bag on your sons stroller handle.

One of the few times, your husband takes off his sniper hood when he's at home and isn't expecting company. He has those tired, sad European eyes that you fell in love with. He was always worried and concerned about your well-being, even more so after having your son.

"We'll be fine, I know how you feel about crowds, and I don't want you to be uncomfortable." you reassure him.

"I know, but I know your German isn't good." he tells you with a slight hesitation in his voice, but he wasn't wrong. Your German is okay at best. You know the basics but not enough to hold onto a conversation.

"Well, you got me there." You chuckle, checking to see if your son is secure in his stroller. It was only a 10 minute walk to the store. König had never heard you speak German, maybe one or two words but never a full sentence.

After buying what you need from the store, a little grocery store that sells everything. You were always careful when crossing the street, especially when you had your infant son with you. You had the right away to cross, you had the green. König standing next to with one of the bags of groceries in his hand and the other around your waist.

Taking a few steps onto the street, some asshole decides at the very, very last second to go forward when he had the red light. A few feet away from hitting the stroller, that absolutely sent you into a verbal rage.

"Scheiße!." König exclaims, pulling the stroller back.

"Arschloch!." you yell at the driver, looking back at the other cars stopped at the light to see if there's another jackass that will do the same, then back in the direction of the car that nearly hit you and your child that is long gone now, "Siehst du uns nicht! Verdammtes arschloch!."

You both continue crossing the street while you yell at the driver who can't hear you anymore, but you just wanted to voice your opinion on drivers like them.

"Wir hatten gleich das recht, und ich schiebe einen kinderwagen!." you continue to shout as if you were a native speaker.

When you get to the other side, König is wide-eyed, mostly because of how your German is.

"Liebe, where did you learn that?." he asks, moving you to the side. Away from others walking by.

"I don't know, probably from having the TV on throughout the day. I picked up on a few phrases, and also the neighbors." you tell him, checking on your son who is asleep.

He kisses the top of your head through his hood. "I guess I did need you to come with me to the store." You joked as you two continued to walk back to your apartment. To König you German did sound broken, but hey, you were yelling at some dipshit who had zero patients for pedestrians.

#könig #könig call of duty #cod könig #könig x y/n #könig x you #könig x reader #call of duty #cod #könig x fem reader #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare 2022 #cod warzone

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melloollem · 10 days

Text

Before The Great Fall|| Jason Todd (Robin) × No reader gender

Summary: You and Jason have become friends because you have a habit of walking around the city at night and Robin has a habit of taking you home.

Warnings: Comfort, teenage Jason Todd, slight flirting (The relationship is much more of a friendship), English is not my native language.

(DC masterlist)

"Where are you going so late?" A sudden voice said, making you stop abruptly and look up, trying to find its speaker, Robin. You wondered if Batman forced him to train that voice, it was so distinctive.

"Aren't you too young to be walking alone so late?" You hadn't found him yet, but now he seemed to be coming from a different, closer place. You turned your head in various directions trying to find him. "Aren't you too young to go out at night to beat up criminals?" You retorted, already frustrated by his behavior, wondering if he was going to show up.

"I'm here" Jason was enjoying how lost you looked. Before you had a chance to locate him, he dashed to your side, you turned away abruptly at the sudden appearance, the boy laughed, it was something that never lost its funny "It's never too early to start fighting crime" His voice tried to copy some kind of charm, the kind seen in movies. Now it was your turn to laugh. "If you say so," you shrugged, finding Jason's behavior hilarious.

Your reaction confused him, had you liked it? He dismissed the question with a shake of his head. "So... where are you going?" You thought about giving him an acid answer, but gave up because of how interested he seemed. "Flat tire," you said with a sigh of defeat. Jason's gaze fell on the bicycle you were carrying next to your body. It was so old that he wondered if it had really worked before the flat tire. You raised an eyebrow as you realized how much he was staring at the object in your hand.

The vigilante grabbed your bike and turned the other way. Your eyes followed the scene with attention and displeasure. "Are you going home" He answered your silent question, receiving a roll of the eyes from you. "There's no crime going on? Do you really need to keep an eye on me?" You haven't moved an inch.

"It's Gotham, it probably is" He shrugged simplistically "But tonight this is my area and if you're in it, I have to make sure you're safe" You didn't want to go home, but there was no point in arguing with Robin or he'd win, or his defeat wouldn't matter and you'd do as he said. You let out a sigh before hurrying to catch up with him. "If some super villain is following you and I'm about to die tonight, I hope you die with me," you complained walking alongside him, Robin laughed.

The two of you walked in silence. Now that you no longer had to look around, you let your thoughts take over, but Robin snapped you out of it by asking, "Where were you going so late?" You rolled your eyes at how insistent he could be. A stupid grin took over your face as you said, "I was going after crime, I'm..." You couldn't think of a hero's name fast enough to complete your joke.

"If you're a crime fighter, you'll lack appropriate attire" He looked you up and down, and you found his insinuation a little offensive. " Said Robin in his underwear," you whispered, but it didn't go unnoticed by him, who pushed you slightly with his body. His first choice of look hadn't been the best, whatever, Couldn't you forget that?

"I'm just kidding," you said when you noticed the boy's new bad mood, but your voice still sounded provocative. It was your favorite pastime to get on the vigilante's nerves.

"Answer my question" You rolled your eyes. "You're very nosy, don't you think?" Before he had a chance to respond, you added, "I didn't have an exact destination, I just went out to think for a while." Robin's eyes went down to your hands and the anxious way you waved them.

He hated the way that whenever things got bad at home, you left for Gotham without considering the dangers. He wanted to say something comforting about your family situation, but he knew you'd only get uncomfortable and try to change the conversation.

"You shouldn't do that, it's dangerous," Jason scolded you, even though he knew it wouldn't change your attitude. You couldn't walk around the city thinking that he would always show up to save you in any situation, you only believed that because it was what had been happening for months.

"Why not? That's how we met, you should be grateful to finally have some friends" You returned to your amused tone. He narrowed his eyes at how astute you were at changing the topic, but decided to let it go.

"You're not part of my personal life, why do you always assume that I don't have any other friends?" The answer came out in a monotone, he didn't know why he was still trying to fight you. "Who would want to be friends with a boy who goes out at night to fight crime? That's a sign of insanity to me," you said as if it were obvious.

"I don't think you understand the meaning of secret identity" He used his free hand to point at the mask covering his face, and you decided not to answer him.

The journey went smoothly, soon you'd be home. Jason thought you wouldn't say anything the whole way, but you did. "Do you think there's any chance of me getting out of Gotham?" The way you looked at him surprised Jason, like someone who thought he really had the answer to everything.

"Maybe, well, do you really want that?" The way his voice sounded more natural didn't go unnoticed by you. "I wish, but it seems that no one can escape Gotham, really escape." The simplicity of your speech made your lack of hope evident.

"Gotham has the lowest real estate prices in the region" Jason justified the phenomenon. You raised an eyebrow, expecting something more motivating from him, shouldn't he be a hero?

"You can be the one to change that" That was the wittiest and most realistic thing he could say, you accepted it gladly, at least he had tried.

"At least, if I stay, you'll have some friends" You brushed aside the seriousness of the conversation, not prepared to deal with it. He laughed quickly, with no chance to retort before he heard a call in his ear. You recognized the tension in his face, knowing there was some crime going on nearby.

"I'm in." You caught his attention, pointing your head towards your apartment, which was just ahead of you. "You can go." You took his bike and continued on your way. "Be careful, Robin." You shouted without bothering to look back, knowing he wasn't there.

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

This writing is intended to imitate those movies in which the characters just walk around while having a dynamic and intimate conversation. I hope you enjoy the relationship I build with Jason.

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ripmattitude · 3 months

Text

HIGH - matt sturniolo x female reader

summary: you and your best friend matt get high together and leads to a heated make out session.

warnings: use of y/n, smoking weed, best friends to ???, latina reader, make out, not proof read

you had developed a crush on matt a couple months ago, and it had blossomed ever since. you hadn't acted on it though, the thought of flirting with your best friend and making him uncomfortable dissuaded you from taking action, so you just hoped one day he would feel the same and let you know in small ways. maybe his hand brushing yours, a look turning into a stare, a subtle red tint painting your friend's cheeks, anything.

"y/n" he mumbled, looking down to his lap. "have you ever smoked weed?" he asked nervously.

furrowing your brows, you answered "where's this coming from?"

"i just- i don't know, im sorry. forget i ever said anything" he quickly said, clearly regretting ever asking you anything. "it was stupid anyw-"

"yeah i've tried some, me and my friends smoke every couple weeks i know you don't like this type of things but that doesn't mean i will stop or-" you confessed, as you sat up straighter and tried to sound firm. but as quickly as your rant started, matt cut you off.

"no no, that's not where i was going" he laughed a little. "i just wanted to try some and was curious" he said softly, finally looking at you and putting a hand on your knee as to ease your nerves.

"oh" you embarrassedly said, thinking this talk was going a whole different road. you started to blush a little, and the placement of his hand wasn't helping much. "in that case" you say while standing up and looking away.

you feel matt's confused gaze as you go to your room and come back with a small, innocent-looking wooden box. you sit down on the couch and open it up, revealing your secret stash and a pre-rolled joint.

your best friend's eyes widen in realization, and an equally excited and nervous grin flashes on his face. he reaches out a hand and cracks open a window, already feeling the smell of the box and knowing it wouldn't get any better when smoking. you can see the band of his boxers, the brand name now flashing out of his jeans thanks to his t-shirt coming up due to the stretch.

to distract yourself from the dirty thoughts on your mind, you start lighting up the blunt between your fingers and take a hit. after exhaling, you give it to matt, and show him how to hold it properly.

"um, how do i.. smoke it?" he asks, feeling a little dumb for not knowing how to do this type of stuff. seeing you do it so naturally and swiftly only made his feeling worse.

"oh yeah, sorry. basically put it between your lips" you take his hands and guide them towards his mouth, you fingers gently brushing his soft lips. "inhale and let it sit a bit in your lungs. then, exhale" you instructed to the best of your abilities, wanting his first experience to be as pleasant and comfortable as possible.

he followed each step carefully, trying his best not to blow it out before he should, but his need to cough got the best of him.

"it's okay, no one does it perfectly their first time. you should've seen me, i was a mess!" you say, letting him know you don't expect him to smoke like a pro. "you wanna try again?" he nods and takes another hit, this time doing it perfectly. you smile and take the joint, chasing the feeling of relaxation it gave you.

you two had smoked the whole thing, and had chosen to head to your room to lie down in her bed. something about matt's actual state was so attractive to you: his constant smile, his droopy eyes, the slight rasp of his voice and the way he was always in contact with your skin.

"did you know i used to take spanish in high school?" you giggled at this, knowing he spoke your first language but said he was really bad and didn't want to humiliate himself in front of a native speaker.

"yeah, you told me but you never want to show me your talent! you know, marylou said you were one of the best of your class after nick but you still don't want to show me" you pout playfully, maybe today is the day you get to hear him speak spanish.

he laughs, and continues "yeah, it was one of the only classes i liked. i love the language! it's so sexy, it actually is a kink or turn on to me" you feel your heart skip a beat and yourself clench at the thought of you turning him on. a sudden wave of boldness washed over you and an idea came up in your mind.

a smirk came over your face as you said in the most sultry voice you could "que sientes si empiezo a hablar en español?"

you saw him tense up and look up at the ceiling, lying flat on his back as to avoid your gaze.

"te excita que hable así matt?" you continued, still using the flirtiest tone you could use. shaky breaths left his mouth.

"y-y/n, don't" he mumbled quietly, still avoiding your eyes.

"no te escucho, me puedes mirar a los ojos?" he turned his head and looked at your eyes. you bit your lip, trying to hold back from continuing this act, but his reaction was just too much for you.

"puedo besarte?" your best friend asked, licking his lips with desire. surprised at his perfect pronunciation and sexy tone, you nodded frantically and connected your lips with his.

the kiss was full of lust and want, your arms snaking to his neck and your hands beginning to play with his hair, earning a moan from matt. you used this opportunity to deepen the kiss, pushing your tongue into his mouth.

matt sat up without breaking the kiss. his hands first grabbed your waist firmly, but then slid to your ass where he squished your cheeks and continued his way down to your under thighs. he lifted you and put you down so you were now sitting on his lap.

the feeling of kissing matt made you feel so fuzzy and overjoyed, butterflies buttering in your stomach. you had become addicted to his lips and didn't know what you would do without it.

his fingers trailed up and down your thighs, each time getting closer and closer to where you needed him most. whimpers and whines came out of your mouth, expressing your want need for friction between your legs. you began straddling him, gaining a groan from him. you felt his cock hardening even more than it already was, which made you moan.

matt threw his head back at the feeling of your clothed pussy rubbing against him, leaving room for you to move your kisses to his jaw and neck. his moans only encouraged you to suck and bite his skin, leaving marks. he massaged your cheeks and guided your movements as you continued kissing his neck and collarbone. "fuckkk" he exhaled in pleasure, wanting to feel more of you.

suddenly, something clicked in your head and you realized what you were doing. you were making out with your best friend and you were both stoned. this wasn't right. guilt started to take over you and you stopped your movements and hopped off him, standing up from the bed to create space between you and him since you knew if you didn't, you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from jumping on him again.

your actions somewhat startled him, watching you with complete confusion in his face.

"i'm so sorry matt" you said quietly turning around to ignore his gaze. "i'll.. sleep on the couch" you said quickly, grabbing a pillow to take with you. "goodnight matt"

"y/n-"

he was shut up by the closed door.

author's note: hii this is my first fic so PLS no shaming but i will take constructive criticism🫶 i could turn this into a mini series, i got something on my mind but i would love to hear your thoughts first! also, the title is shit, i didn't know what to write😭😭

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo video #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut

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nrdmssgs · 9 months

Note

Hello! Could you do some headcannons or some characters reacting to this scenario?

So I was sitting on the floor with my bff and we are playing a game of sorts right? He's hella competitive so I look up and i see the hottest smirk on his face. Like his eyes are half litted and just foxlike as he smirked down at me.

Now the cod characters are obvi gonna be in different situations but for example like we are training and they get their ass handed to and they just look up to see the most cockyest hottest smirk possible on our face.

You can change things if you'd like! Thank you! - JAY

TF 141 + Nikolai reacting on (different) readers, having hot smug smirk

Masterlist This is pure fluff and comfort. Sometimes with romance, sometimes platonic. AN: Jay!! Thank you for being so patient with me) I really hope, I got your request right. But if I failed - feel free to paraphrase and resend it to me, so we can figure this out. Also: I loved working on this. So much fun!!

Captain John Price

"Come on, now you are just making up words!" Price lets out a cloud of cigar smoke in the air.

But you insist, it is a real word, since you were pretty proud, it was about to win you a game of scrabble against a native English speaker.

"Somebody, look this up, I have this feeling, there's a cheater in our ranks." Captain stretches his back and shoulders, while waiting for anyones confirmation.

"Ehm, it's actually a word." Gaz leans over the table where you and Price play and shows him something on the smartphone screen. Then he looks at the letters Price has left and whistles.

"Looks like you won, congratulations," Kyle pats you on the shoulder with that.

You clapped your hands loudly and jumped up from the table. "Yes! An hour and a half in that horrible chair, my back won't thank me, but it was worth it!"

The others turn at the sound of your voice and come over to congratulate you.

Price does not stand up, but takes another puff, watching your widening cocky grin.

When you finally approach him, holding out your hand for a friendly handshake, he gathers a few letter chips into his palm.

"Sir, it was a pleasure to ruin you on this fine evening!" You wait for a handshake, but he takes your wrist, flips your hand and gives you a few of his letters.

"Go on, professor, figure yourself, where you've made a mistake." He chuckles darkly, amused by your expression getting puzzled and lost.

You look at the letters in your hand, then at the playing field... And you don't understand what word can be formed from what John gave you.

"Need a hand?" Price squints. You nod, and he takes letters one by one from your hand and places them in the field.

"What... what does that mean?" As you ask, others, for some mysterious reason, diverge to the far corners of the room.

"Someone needs a lesson, I see," Price purrs "C`mere, this is a nasty one."

As you lean closer, he brushes hair off your ear and whispers, what does the word he has just laid out on the field, mean. And with every next his word, your face becomes more red.

"Now be a darling and do the math, so that your Captain knows with what score exactly did he beat you." Price stand up, cracks his back and leaves you alone at the table.

(Of course, he will return with tea and something sweet to cheer you up. He just wanted to teach you to never celebrate too soon.)

Kyle Gaz Garrick

He was always your biggest fan. From that time, you showed him your very first painting to this very moment, your local gallery declared your private selling exhibition open.

"I bet, I don't understand even one third of the meaning behind this one, but I'm in love. Just want to look at it every day," he confesses when you get closer to him.

"And you have a trained eye for a soldier. This painting is one of the most pricey ones." You fan yourself with a price list printed out for visitors. Kyle catches it in flight, quickly finds the picture in front of which you met in the list, and looks up at you.

"Jeez, after I retire - I'll ask you to teach me how to paint!" He finally lets go of the price list in your hand and gives you a warm and soft embrace. 'Famous Garrick signature hug' as you two used to call it always. The best hug, you could ever get.

"Congratulations," He huffs in your hair, not wanting to let go. "Can I already flex, that my best friend is a famous artist?"

"Oh, yes, famous artist, that has sold zero paintings yet." You chuckle, leaning back.

"You just wait, till I become a Captain, your works will all be sold, before they are even ready." Kyle is the only man able to illuminate any space with just his laugh. You wish, you could tell that to him, but it sounds banal and vulgar even in your head.

Later that evening, when someone approaches you and asks if that painting is still available, you shake your head in excuse.

Six months later, you celebrate Kyle's birthday. His colleagues gathered in a small and cozy local pub.

You all have known each other for a long time, so they all greet you warmly when you approach their table.

Kyle jumps up and hugs you with such a speed that you almost drop the present you were hiding behind your back.

"Happy birthday!" You smile and hand him a big flat box.

Suspecting nothing, Kyle opens it and freezes in shock.

"What, what is it? Gaz, what you've got?" Johnny MacTavish was agitated as usual.

"You can't..." Kyle looks from the painting to you. "You can`t give it to me..."

"Just did it, Garrick," a wide smile spreads across your face. The more times he looks from you to the painting and back, the more smug your grin gets.

He can't thank you enough. The whole evening, he keeps repeating, "You are crazy. Freaking psycho, I tell you... I promise, I'm gonna come up with the best present on your birthday."

As the others start heading home, Price calls Kyle over. "If this is not screaming to you, you have a chance with that girl, Gaz, I'll have to send you for your hearing screening before your next deployment."

Simon Ghost Riley

You hated weekly performance reviews. Others may find it terrifying, since the Lieutenant wasn't very generous with praise, but you just couldn't stand this infinite cycle. Because every week it was the same.

"Y/N, you already know what I have to say." "Yes sir. More confidence brings better results."

You two kept going over this exact dialogue for the last month. Week after week. "More confidence, Y/N".

This review went on as usual. You reacted on your name automatically. "Yes, sir."

When others started leaving his office, you too stood up and headed to the door.

"I asked you to stay, soldier." Ghosts low voice rumbles behind your back, making you frown. Yes, maybe you should have paid more attention to what was he saying.

You turn around and land on the first chair, you see. It was useless to try to come with excuse, why you almost sneak out of his office instead of following his command, so you prepare to obediently accept his condemnation.

But he instead takes a small box sealed in plastic from his desk and throws it on the table in front of you. "Open it. And read the rules out loud. I don't have a single idea, how to play this one."

"Sir? You want us... to play a card game? Am I missing something?" Instead of an answer, he gives a long look, that could make anyone frightened. Yes, when it came to the Lt, you never knew if this man just looking at you without any particular purpose or actually was plotting to end you.

So you unpack a deck of cards and read the rules. The game wasn't too complicated, but required strategic thinking and some understanding of behavioral patterns of the opponent.

You two play a pair of rounds, and then Ghost says 'enough with training, you win this time - you get a reward'.

"Wait, how? I don't think, I'm ready..." "Observe, memorize, analyze, react, don't forget to count the cards and believe in yourself." He looks you in the eyes and nods at the deck.

At first, you panic. Does he really expect you to beat him in a game where you have to manipulate your opponent? This is not a gullible and naive colleague - this is Simon 'Ghost' Riley - someone, whom you can't just read like an open book!

But at some point you notice a particular pattern in a way, he plays. And that leads you to an idea worth of the risk.

So you start carefully tinkering circumstances to make him do just what you want. And he follows to your surprise!

In a few minutes you understand, you got him trapped. There are only a pair of moves left to defeat Ghost.

"That's what I wanted to see," Ghost leans back in his chair a bit, not even looking at his hand.

You tense up a little, wondering why he's looking at your face instead of his cards, and then you realize you're smiling broadly, enjoying the approach of victory.

"Excuse me, sir." "No, keep that smile. Remember it. Never forget the smile, with which you beat 'the Ghost' you were so afraid of. And next time you feel insecure - put on that smile for a minute, ok? Now get on with it and win this round finally."

Johnny Soap MacTavish

"But Johnny! I'm in the mood for crimes!!" you whined, as he pulled you away from the garden fence.

"Na-a-ah, no crimes for you today, lassie. I'd hate it if you end up in prison." Soaps grip around your wrist was iron.

"One berry! I won't end up in jail for eating one berry, that I've found, by the way, outside this fence, because the bush overgrown through it!" You keep protesting.

"We'll, go on a farmers market and ill buy you a flippin` ton of those berries, you little rascal!" Johnny catches you by the waist and lifts you up in his arms with such ease, as if you weigh nothing. The longed-for berries, so affably peeking out from behind the neighbor's fence, turn out to be farther and farther away.

You see them off with a sad sigh. "But the stolen ones are always sweeter!"

Soap grumbles about how childhood hit you at the wrong time, but can't help but smile. He loves coming back from deployments and hanging out with you, just the same as when you two were kids.

Today you decided to go for a picknick on the nearest lake and on the way you decided that you just need to pick a few berries from the neighbors. The fact that the neighbors were not at home at that moment did not bother you, because 'CRIMES' as you happily shrieked.

As you reached the lake, Soap went for a quick swim, and you stayed to enjoy some rare for your region sun. You never understood, how he could swim in this ice-cold water.

When he came back and didn't find you anywhere near your picnic blanket, he grew suspicious.

His suspicions grew stronger when you emerged from behind the hill, grinning contentedly.

"Well, where have you been?" Johnny folded his arms across his chest.

"First, dry yourself, you will drip water all over our blanket!" You got close enough not to scream. Too close. Because he noticed your purple tongue.

"Show me your tongue." You froze at those words.

You took a few steps back, and he cocked his head to the side, as if he was trying to figure something out in his mind.

"I was gone for 10-15 minutes... Did you manage to run to that garden and back?"

Instead of answering, you jumped up and rushed away from him. But Johnny's reaction was lightning fast: he caught up with you in a couple of swift motions and put you on his shoulders.

"I'm getting half of my dress wet because of you!" you screamed, trying to escape.

"Not half," he answered with a mischievous voice.

You followed Soap's gaze and realized that he was carrying you towards the water.

"Johnny no..."

"Johnny, yes!" he grinned ominously.

Nikolai

"You're going down, MacTavish!" You swing with such force that you almost lose your balance. A snowball flies towards Soap and you hear a soft pop as it hits his face and spills over his jacket.

"Yes!! Still the champion! Still have it!!" With a wild grin, you twirl around in a tiny victory dance. Soap could be better than you on a firing range and at training fields, but when it came to snowball fights - you were invincible.

You've secretly waited for winter and prayed for a snowfall every year just to show Johnny, you are a force to be reckoned with.

So you really deserve this little moment of triumph.

You still smile when you hear Soap calling your name.

A satisfied sneer blooming on your face as you turn around... and freeze.

Johnny stands there as if nothing had happened, the smirk on his face almost as wide as yours. And a few meters behind him is Nik, shaking the snow from behind the collar of his jacket.

"You ducked?! That's not fair, Soap!" "Since when using my knees is not fair?" Johnny moves aside little by little.

You meet Niks unamused gaze and shrug. "I am so terribly sorry, Nikolai. I swear, this was an accident!"

"Accident, yeah? I see, you like playing with snow so much..." He finishes brushing off the snow and holds out his hand to you. "Come closer, I can teach you a thing or two about snow. Where I come from, we've had a lot of it."

You shake your head. "You can't, you are not my Captain." This should have sounded like a reasoning, but comes out more as a plea.

"Captain?" Nikolai shouts, "I need to teach one of your soldiers a lesson, is it ok with you?" "Is it Gaz?" Price's voice reaches you. "No." "No objections then! Take your time!"

You quietly curse as Nik turns to you once again. He points an index finger to you, then to the ground right before him, and forms an inaudible command. "You. Here."

The last part of his order is spoken out loud in a manner that doesn't leave you any choice. "Now."

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thebearchives · 2 years

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slow days in monaco | PG10

PAIRING: pierre gasly x single mom!reader

REQUESTED: [] yes [X] no

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

SYNOPSIS: a slow day in monaco is like a bad omen, or so you were told. what happens when formula 1 drivers pierre gasly and charles leclerc enter the café you work at and spark up a conversation with your son?

WARNINGS: fluff, son has a name (thomas), reader can speak both french and english (translations are included), probably more interactions between pierre and the kid (sorry, not sorry. I'm a sucker for guys interacting with kids)

A/N: hello, hello!! first post alert!!! i hope you guys enjoy what i came up with during my dad!pierre brainrot. please don’t be a ghost reader! i love getting feedback, even if it’s just a small comment :)

( originally, this was supposed to be a series, and i’m more than willing to write more parts to this, but i’m not entirely sure if that’s what people want. that being said, send me a message if you'd like another part and I'll see what i can do! )

although there never truly was such thing as a slow and quiet day in a coffee shop in monte carlo, the mornings were just a little bit more mellow after the start of the formula 1 summer break. or at least they were to you.

this was your first year working at le pain d'amour, a bakery and coffee shop popular with tourists and natives alike, so you didn’t have much to go off of. you had started working there a couple of months prior to the monaco grand prix, and even three months later, you were still recovering from the weeklong madness.

long gone were the mornings where you made coffee for f1 enthusiasts and team members alike. now, your mornings were spent serving tourists looking for a good instagram-worthy latte, and suit-clad men complaining about their early mornings and lack of vacation days.

unlike other days, today felt like your longest morning shift yet; halfway into your five-hour shift, with only about five customers sitting inside the cafe. ‘a slow day in monaco is like a bad omen,’ your coworker had said. to you, it just felt like torture.

another hour passed, the five customers long gone, now replaced with three individuals who sat scattered around the shop, all busy with their own devices. the bells above the front door chimed announcing the entrance of two men. with the way the two men loudly chattered in french, you doubted the need for the bells in the first place.

you moved from your spot leaning against the counter to the front cash register. your coworker, michelle, had stepped out not too long ago for her break, leaving the cafe in your very capable hands.

“bonjour! welcome to le pain d'amour, i can take your order whenever you guys are ready!” you channelled your best customer service voice and looked up. the smile you slapped onto your face faltered slightly when you realized the faces of the two men standing across from you.

there in front of you stood f1 drivers, charles leclerc and pierre gasly.

you snapped back into reality when charles opened his mouth, “bonjour! can i just get an iced coffee and a croissant sandwich?”

you nodded as you entered his order into the system, “and for you?”

your question was directed to pierre, who had been gazing at the (h/c)-haired boy sitting on one of the stools near the counter. his head snapped back to you, a smile following as he looked over your head at the menu. a quick apology left his lips as he requested some more time, before opting to get the same as his friend but with a cookie as well.

as you turned to make their orders, telling the men to take a seat wherever and that you would call them up whenever their order was ready, you missed pierre gesturing towards the young boy, pulling charles up to sit on the stools near the kid. the alpha tauri driver couldn’t help but miss his nephew as he watched the young boy colour his page with great focus.

the quiet clicks of keys, and the music playing over the speakers was now overshadowed by the aggressive sounds of a crayon scraping against paper and the sound of the two drivers chattering in french. although loud enough for others to hear them, the speed at which the two men spoke made it hard to understand what they were saying.

“maman, regardez ça.” mom, look at this.

you drew your eyes from the espresso machine to the five-year-old, thomas, and the paper held up in his hand. you absorbed the shapes and lines on the paper before looking at the boy who was smiling widely.

“devinez ce que c'est!” guess what it is!

his energy was palpable, no thanks to the three hours he had spent sleeping on the couch in the backroom while you worked outside. you looked back at the machine, noticing the coffee just barely starting to stream.

you decided to entertain the boy, “hmm,” you furrowed your eyebrows in fake confusion, “est-ce un chien?” is it a dog?

“what?!” he gaped at you, “not even close! réessayer.” try again.

you giggled at the young boy’s exasperated face, “désolé, mon petit. je dois retourner au travail.” sorry, my child. i have to get back to work.

if it wasn’t for sanitary reasons, you would have reached over and ruffled his hair to get him to smile. instead, you resorted to calling out to him again, “stop pouting, amour.”

thomas grumbled, a mess of both french and english, albeit both sloppy, escaping his small lips.

a voice broke his muttering, “puis-je deviner?” can i guess?

both you and the boy looked over to where pierre sat, a small smile gracing his lips. you looked back at the young boy, eyes wide open and jaw slacked.

you huffed a small laugh, “tommy, ferme ta bouche.” close your mouth.

thomas sat up straight, “you’re in f1!”

he turned to look at you, “maman!! driver! un pilote de course!” a racing driver!

it was endearing, listening to him exclaim in both french and english. you, yourself, had been raised in a bilingual household, with your father being a native english speaker, who met your monégasque mother on his summer vacation. you grew up in a household where both english and french were spoken in tandem, and now, with your own son, you couldn’t help but raise him the same way.

you turned back to finish making the drinks that said driver had ordered, “oui, and he asked you something. sois poli et réponds-lui.” yes…be nice and answer him.

tommy’s eyes grew wide again and he turned back to the driver next to him, “pouvez-vous répéter votre question?” can you repeat your question?

pierre pointed to the drawing, repeating his question in english this time, “can i guess what you drew?”

thomas looked down at his drawing. an attempt at copying the foam art you had done on his long-empty cup of hot chocolate.

he looked back at you for guidance, gesturing you to come closer to him with his hand. you placed the sandwiches and coffees in front of the drivers, smiling apologetically to pierre for your son’s blatant avoidance of his question.

“i’ll get you your cookie in just a minute,” you stated, to which he responded, “pas d'inquiétude.” no worries.

as you neared the cookie display, and thomas, he reached up and whispered into your ear, “what if he thinks my drawing is really bad?”

you looked down at the boy, a small smile gracing your lips, “i’m sure he’ll think you’re very talented, and if he doesn’t…” you trailed off as you placed the cookie onto a plate.

after placing the cookie in front of pierre, you leaned down to whisper in your son’s ear, “i’ll fight him.”

thomas giggled, moving away from you to push his drawing in front of the driver, “maman said if you think i’m a bad drawer, she will fight you.”

charles’ chortle was loud, turning into a series of coughs as he choked on his coffee. you gasped quietly, quickly turning away from the three to avoid pierre’s amused gaze and get charles a tissue, to which he nodded with a red face, eyes watering. you began cleaning your station, ears not having to strain to hear the conversation going on behind you.

as charles’ coughs died down, pierre sighed, “well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we?”

after a small sip of his own coffee, he continues, “is this a cup?”

you couldn’t see it but pierre was pointing to a spot on the drawing.

thomas nodded excitedly, “mhm! c'est une tasse comme celle-là.”

the five-year-old pointed to the large array of coffee cups and mugs just to the left of where you stood.

pierre nodded, “is this design on top one of those foam…” he trailed off forgetting the words.

charles piped up from his spot, “latte form art?”

again, thomas nodded fast, “yes! but maman says i can’t have coffee so she makes me it on hot chocolate!”

both charles and pierre nodded at his words, “your mother is very smart, then.”

you turned around just in time to catch thomas nodding super fast, cheeks turning red at the compliment.

pierre took a bite out of his sandwich and charles decided to reach out and make conversation with the kid, “what’s your name, buddy?”

“thomas! with an h,” he started, going on a ramble about his classmate who also shared the same name, but without the h.

your attention got pulled from the conversation as you heard the bell chime again. this time, however, it was your coworker coming back from her break, keeping the door open for the person who was leaving the shop.

michelle smiled at you with a wave, tapping on her wrist as if to indicate the time. you looked at your own wrist, eyes widening to realize your shift was due to end in about 10 minutes. as slow as your shift had started, in the presence of the two drivers, you couldn’t help but be amazed at how fast time had passed.

there wasn’t much for you to do, waiting for the time to pass. as thomas continued chatting up the two f1 drivers, you made rounds around the tables placed in the shop, cleaning up any messes left behind.

with thomas and pierre’s loud voices filling up the air, it wasn’t long before michelle pulled you by your arm, eyes widened at the sight of the two very famous men sitting next to your son. her inquisitive look made you laugh quietly, explaining that they had come in not too long ago and had already ordered, and finished most of their food by the looks of it.

the ten minutes went by quickly, and you found yourself apologetically disrupting the very important conversation between thomas, charles, and pierre about whether or not a velociraptor could outrun charles in his ferrari. (charles: “velociraptors cannot run as fast as a racecar.” pierre, smacking his hand on the table: “you can’t believe everything you read on the internet!” thomas: “yeah! raptors are fast!”)

you smoothed out thomas’ hair, “hey, mon petit chou. i’m gonna go get our stuff from the back so we can get ready to go, okay? why don’t you start wrapping up the conversation?”

you left before charles could ask for your opinion on the matter, not wanting to face the wrath of either side if you defended the other.

by the time you made it back out, thomas was sitting on his stool, hunched over a piece of paper, a red pencil crayon held tightly in his hand as he drew something. the plate with pierre’s cookie now sat next to the boy, small teeth marks indicating that instead of the man who had ordered the cookie, the young boy was the one eating it.

pierre, noticing your return, smiled sheepishly as if embarrassed. whether it was for not ensuring your son had packed up before you came back, or for the fact that he got caught giving your son a cookie, you weren’t sure.

“sorry, he said he wanted to draw something for us,” pierre started, his eyes catching the movement of thomas taking another bite of the cookie before darting back to your amused face, “and sorry for the cookie, i always intended on giving it to him, but i realize now i should have probably asked before if he could have one.”

you smiled at him, “don’t worry about it, either of the things. the cookies are by far his favourite item on the menu and he’s not had one yet, so no harm done.”

charles leaned over from his spot, pushing against pierre, “so, do you think i could beat a velocirapt-”

pierre’s groan cut him off, “fermez-la déjà.” shut up already.

charles poked pierre with his elbow, “no, you,” before he turned back to you, “google says raptors only travel about 40 km/h…”

you laughed, “i’m afraid i cannot give my answer without risking my life,” you gestured your head towards the boy still colouring, now with a blue pencil in his hand instead.

“i think that gave your answer perfectly.” though his words were directed to you, charles couldn’t help but stare at pierre, a cocky smirk planted on his lips.

before pierre could retort, thomas sat up eagerly, “j'ai fini!” i'm done!

he pushed the piece of paper into the middle of the counter, right in front of pierre. looking over thomas’ head, you couldn’t help but smile at the picture he drew.

two racecars, one red and one speckled with blue, the numbers 16 and 10 drawn on either car respectively. in between the two racecars stood four people. three squares bodies and one triangle, three boys and one girl. as thomas pointed at each aspect of his drawing including the people, not that any of them needed any supporting description, you couldn’t help but smile at the fact that the triangle stick figure was connected at the hand to the smallest square figure. you and thomas, holding hands.

after pierre and charles thanked thomas profusely, you helped him hop off the stool. you turned to look at the two drivers one last time, “thank you for keeping him entertained today, you really didn’t have to.”

“nonsense, he’s a good kid.” charles smiled, pierre nodding at his words, “hopefully, we’ll see you both again.”

you smiled, “well, i’m here nearly every morning, so y’know.”

you helped thomas put his backpack on, “have a good summer break, both of you. hope the rest of the season treats you two well!”

the racecar drivers smiled, waving bye to both of you as you walked towards the door. before stepping foot outside, however, thomas turned around.

“maman’s number is written on the back! bye!”

A/N: second part is now posted!! read lonely nights in monaco here!!

#pierre gasly x reader #f1 driver x reader #f1 imagine #pierre gasly #pierre gasly 10 #pierre gasly x you #pg10 #pierre gasly fluff #charles leclerc #alpha tauri #fluff #ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ writes #f1 imagines #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula one #sdim #1k

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harunade · 9 months

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can i request something like a heated fight / miscommunication / jealous / whatever taerae but then he makes it up to you with gentle soft sex showing you how much he loves you and all… not a native english speaker so sorry if it’s not understable HAHA but angsty loving taerae has been on my mind sm lately <3

also !! would u write for junhyeon if someone requested?^^ love your writing hehe

yes id love to write for him and also tiot / evnne !!

sorry . kim taerae

pairing: bf!taerae x f!reader

warnings: smut , they fight, soft sex, piv, oral f recieving, making out, not proofread!

“What the fuck is your problem actually?” you screamed at Taerae. You guys never really fought but this time you were both in bad moods and something just snapped. On a normal day you would’ve solved this little argument immediately but on this particularly one it ended up with screams and stuff thrown on the ground.

“Can you shut up for once? Leave me the fuck alone.” Taerae yelled back at you before you stormed out of the room. Since the two of you shared an apartment, you had no choice but to sleep on the couch. He could have all your guys’ bed to himself and even fall off it for all you cared. But as you laying on your side hugging a duck shaped plushie he had won in the arcade for you, with the tv long forgotten in the back, you started to regret your actions. Maybe if you acted calmer he would’ve too.

Taerae must’ve had the same thought as you since you ended up with him sitting down next to you. You jumped at the sudden presence but quickly calmer down when you felt his hand caressing your leg. “What is it?” you peeked through the blanket. You noticed that he was wearing his red sweat pants that would normally make you laugh but this was too serious of a situation. “I’m sorry for yelling at you and telling you to leave me alone. I actually don’t want you to” he told you while looking down. His voice sounded broken as if he had been also crying. “It’s okay, Tae. I’m sorry too-“ you were laying on your side on the couch but ended up with Taerae on top of you.

“I’m really sorry, pretty. Let me show you-“ he leaned down and places a kiss on your cheek, then the other one, then your forehead. You had been crying a bit earlier so it was possible for him to have tasted your tears. Finally, he pressed his lips to yours. You hadn’t realised how much you had been aching for it as you instinctively cupped his face and pushed your lips harder into his.

One of his hands threw the blanket off of you and started going up inside of your shirt. The feeling of his cold hand made you gasp and Taerae took it as the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Shortly after, his kisses moved down to your neck and collarbones. “am so sorry, baby- love you so, so much” he’d breathe out in between kisses and nibbled on your soft skin. “Let me take these off you, doll?” he asked making reference to his shirt you were wearing and your panties. “Yes, please… need you so bad”

Said and done, your clothes as well as his were on the floor and Taerae was kissing down you stomach. Lifting one of your legs to his shoulder, he leaned his head and licked a strip of arousal off your cunt. You moaned loudly and gripped at his hair probably harder than intended. “you’re so sweet, baby.. could eat your pussy forever, but not tonight” he pressed a few kisses to your inner thighs before lifting himself up.

If you looked down, you could see his erection standing tall and begging to be touched. “Will you take me, love?” he asked you as he pressed a few short pecks to the corners of your mouth. Your hands gripped his shoulder as your legs wrapped around his waist. “Yes, baby. i love you so much and i’m also sorr-“ he pressed another kiss to your lips to shush you. “It’s okay. i’ve already forgiven you. just want to show you how much i love you and how much you mean to me, my sweet girl” he looked at you with glossy eyes.

Taking his dick into his hand, he ran it up and down your wet cunt, collecting slick and slowly pushing in. He made sure to intertwine your fingers. When he finally bottomed out, he made sure to pull away and slam a little harder into you. “fuck.. tae..” you moaned out as he was slowly thrusting into you. You pulled him by the neck into another kiss. this one was more of a messy and heated one, as you swirled your tongues around and definitely had some saliva dripping down of your mouths.

“Are you close, princess?” he looked down at you while his thumb circled your clit. by the way you were trembling, you were, and he knew that too. “aww you’ve already gone stupid.. it’s okay, my sweet baby, i’ll take care of you” Taerae pushed away the hair that had stuck on your forehead. It didn’t take you long to cum, squeezing uncontrollably around your boyfriend’s dick. This made him let go as well, filling your womb while a loud moan left his mouth.

Taerae collapsed on top of you, but still made sure to pick up the blanket from the floor and cover the two of you. “Are we good?” he mumbled from the crook of your neck while you hands were either around his waist or in his hair. “Of course, my dear” you turned your head and started pressing kisses everywhere on his face, just like he had previously done with you. He smiled into the kiss when your lips finally met.

#harunade #zb1 hard hours #zb1 x reader #zb1 hard thoughts #kim taerae smut #taerae smut #taerae x reader

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