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strawberrysturniolo · 4 months

Note

chris and the reader hate eachother but end up having to share a hotel bed

just tonight // chris sturniolo

summary: a trip with your friends turns into a hotel reservation mishap and having to share a bed with someone you hate part 2

It’s no secret that Nick Sturniolo is my best friend.

It’s no secret that Matt Sturniolo is like a brother to me.

And it is no fucking surprise to anyone how knows me and the youngest Sturniolo that Chris Sturniolo is the one person above all that makes me want to rip my hair out strand by strand.

I don’t even know how it all happened. It’s like it was meant to be. I don’t remember a time in my life where me and Chris Sturniolo weren’t bickering, throwing shit at each other, or calling each other foul insults.

To others, it is another form of entertainment to see our arguments in person, but to Nick and Matt, it’s the bane of their existence.

Their brother is mine.

Which is why I am more than shocked to hear that the four of us are heading on a trip to San Diego with no one else to help break up fights.

With Matt driving us, Chris sits in the passenger seat, blasting music that no one has a say on. Matt bops his head to a few songs, but as soon as he becomes comfortable with one, Chris changes it mid song.

“Hang on, I have a better one,” he says every single time.

Nick sits next to me, half asleep with chunky headphones over his ears, blocking out the sound of his brother’s music taste. I wish I could say I’m doing the same, but my airpods died 20 minutes into the drive, so I’m stuck in the backseat staring out the window, contemplating throwing myself onto the highway at 80 miles per hour.

We make a few stops along the way despite it being only around a two hour drive.

The first was for some food.

The second was because Chris ran out of his drink and insisted that he needed to stop for more.

The third was because Chris decided to dump his drink on me, so I had to change into something I had packed.

The fourth was because Chris then faced his consequences and had nothing to drink, making Matt stop again. He promised he wouldn’t spill it this time.

Then a fifth time because Chris had to pee.

When we finally arrived at the hotel, we dragged our few bags inside and made our way to the front desk.

“Hi,” Nick said to the woman. His eyes were droopy as he had just woken up, so he rubbed them a bit before continuing. “It’s under Sturniolo. Four rooms on the same floor.”

The young woman’s eyebrows cinched together, almost like she was worried she had made a mistake.

“The reservation is for three rooms,” she says instead, making Chris step forward like he is going to correct her. “And they are on different floors.”

“Woah, woah,” Chris interrupts, shaking his head. “I know you’re just doing your job, but we definitely put in four rooms. I don’t think anyone minds that we are on different floors, but we’re going to need a fourth room if that’s what we paid for.”

The woman’s eyes scatter across her screen before she frowns slightly. “I’m really sorry, but we don’t have any other rooms available.”

Chris spins around, tossing his hands up slightly. “What are we going to do?”

“Why can’t one of you share a room?” I suggest the obvious.

Nick jumps in first. “If you guys want me to edit all your shit, then I need my own room. I won’t be able to focus and get it done if there’s someone else.”

“Okay,” I nod, knowing he has work to do. “Then Chris can stay with Matt.”

Chris’ face scrunches in disgust. “No way. He snores.”

I roll my eyes at his childish answer. “We don’t have any other options right now.”

“One of us is going to half to share with her,” Matt concludes. Chris makes a face as if to say ‘Not me!’

I scoff at how they’re talking about me while I’m standing right here. “Hello! Why can’t I get my own room since I’m the only girl!”

I’m ignored.

“Let’s play rock paper scissors for the room,” Matt suggests, making Chris roll up his sweatshirt sleeves as if he’s preparing.

Matt wins.

Chris’ eyes shoot open. “Best two out of three.”

“Nope,” Matt says as he grabs his room key off the desk and heads to the elevator.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” I mumble, walking behind Chris and following him to our shared room.

I would have been quiet so Nick could work, but he was so adamant about being alone that I never even got the chance to suggest that alternative. This stupid room situation is just the fucking icing on the cake after the car ride with Chris. It’s no surprise that my luck would put me in the same room as him somehow.

I brace myself for when Chris opens the door, expecting only one thing because it’s the obvious, but I still pray for a miracle.

No miracle.

There’s one bed.

I toss my bags on the bed before he can. “Dibs,” I call out immediately.

Chris kicks his shoes off. “That’s not fair. How are you gonna dibs a bed? Where am I supposed to sleep?”

I point to the balcony. “Out there. Just pray a rabid squirrel doesn’t bite you while you sleep.”

He fake smiles at me. “Very funny. You’re lucky I’m too fucking tired after the ride to argue with you.” He flashes his phone screen at me, revealing the time. 2:12 a.m. We left at night to try to beat any traffic and so we could have an extra full day in San Diego. “Let’s just go to bed and hope we’re too tired to realize what a shitty situation this is.”

I dig out some clothes from inside a duffel bag I brought, trying to find something to wear as pajamas. Since I was under the assumption I would be in my own room, I didn’t pack any pajama shorts or even athletic shorts that would do the job. I usually just sleep with a big shirt and underwear, and this was certainly not what I was anticipating.

I let out a sigh and turn around to face Chris. I hate asking for his help.

“Do you have any shorts or sweatpants I can wear to bed?”

He looks at me like he’s confused by my question. His tiny brain cells can usually only handle sentences with five words or less.

“Why didn’t you pack any?” he asks me instead.

“Because I normally sleep half naked, which I’m not doing with you here. So can I please wear shorts or something of yours to bed?”

He grins. “Say please again and maybe I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll scrub the toilet with your toothbrush while you sleep,” I threaten.

He reaches down and tosses me a pair of his boxers. “I would give you basketball shorts but they wouldn’t fit you. Plus I only have my celtics ones and they’re too nice for you to fuck up.”

I take his boxers and stand with my clothes in my hands, looking at him.

He looks at me like he has a problem with me. “Do you need anything else?” he says in a snippy tone.

“Go to the bathroom,” I instruct him.

“Why?”

“So I can change?” I say as a question, shocked and confused at how stupid he can be sometimes.

He rolls his eyes and crouches to his bag. “I’m not fucking looking. Just change.”

In an attempt to withhold us from fighting in the first ten minutes of us being here, I sigh and turn around, facing the curtains covering the window. I peel my shirt off and toss it on a chair, putting on an old t-shirt instead. I turn around quickly, making sure Chris isn’t watching. He’s sitting on his phone. I yank my pants off and tug on his boxers before he has a chance to peek.

“You done?” he asks.

“Yeah. I’ll go to the bathroom so you can change.”

I grab my toiletries bag so I can brush my teeth and wash my face while I’m in there, but as I make my way to the door, Chris steps in front of me. Looking at me, he pulls his shirt off from over his head. “That’s all I have to do. Now I’m dressed for bed.”

Do not look at his body. Do NOT look at his body.

“I still have to go to the bathroom,” I say anyway.

He gestures his hands to my destination and follows me in, brushing his teeth alongside me and watching me as I do my skincare. Before I have a chance to snap at him and tell him to go away, he does just that. I almost ask him why he did leave, throwing myself off. I shouldn’t care. I don’t care.

He’s laying on our bed. I have to remind myself that this is just a shitty situation before sliding in next to him, still keeping a distance. We sit in silence for some time, both of us still scrolling aimlessly on our phones, trying to distract ourselves so we don’t have to talk. Finally, I have enough of the silence, and I am suddenly on the hunt for answers.

I turn over in bed, now facing him. He side eyes me as he notices my change in position. “Do you need something else?” he asks.

“Why are you so mean to me?”

He lowers his phone from his gaze momentarily as he thinks. He settles on, “You’re mean to me too.”

“It’s different,” I argue.

“This is just how I am,” he continues. “I act this way with my brothers. Maybe you’re just not used to it yet.”

“It’s still different, Chris.”

He shrugs, not saying anything else, so I do.

“I feel like we could get along well but you don’t give me the chance. You never noticed we have the same taste in music and a lot of other similar interests? It’s like you don’t want to admit we could have something in common and I don’t know why.”

“I’m not petty like that,” he says instead. “I’m not going to blow you off because I don’t want us to have the same interests.”

“Then what is it,” I continue to push him.

“Can you just shut up and go to bed?” he snaps.

I seriously couldn’t have had a worse roommate.

I turn over, finding myself back in silence.

“Are you going to need my boxers every night while we’re here?” he asks.

“I mean, this is all I’ve got, so yeah,” I answer without turning around.

It’s silent for a good 30 seconds before Chris breaks it.

“Why don’t you just keep them?”

My eyebrows furrow, my expression bold even though he can’t see my face. “Why?”

“They look good,” he mumbles.

“Huh?”

“You heard me.”

“I literally didn’t doofus that’s why I said huh?”

“I said they look good on you!”

My stomach flips.

Motherfucker.

“You want me to keep them?” I ask for clarification.

“I’m just trying to be nice,” he defends. “Don’t try to make it something it’s not. But even if I was trying to turn it into something else, you know you look good.”

Oh my god.

No, he needs to stop.

I turn around so I can face him again. “You think I look good?”

He rolls his eyes so hard this time that his head shifts. “Oh shut up.”

The more I stare at him to try to dissect his answer, the more I see his face turning a darker shade of red.

“Oh my god! You’re blushing!” I tease.

He sits up straight. “Am not!”

“You are too!” I laugh, pointing at him.

He smacks my hand away. “Stop it!”

Everything suddenly clicks. Every time he was mean to me. Every time he called me names.

But there were also the times he would stand in a corner with eyes shooting daggers when I would talk about a guy.

Everything makes sense.

“You like me,” I piece together.

“Do not,” he lies. “You wish.”

“I don’t have to wish because you do!”

“You’re being childish,” he says, bold coming from him.

“Just admit it so I can go to bed.”

Without an answer he shoves his hand into my shoulder, pushing me away from him. I do the same back, but when I expect him to do it again, he grabs my wrist and yanks me towards him instead.

We both halt before our faces touch.

I watch him gulp.

“Tell me not to do it,” he practically begs.

I know exactly what he’s talking about. I know we shouldn’t but I sort of just want to know what would happen. Would anything come out of it? Would we both decide it was stupid and we won’t talk about it ever again and swear it won’t leave this hotel room.

“I could do it instead,” I suggest.

He clearly doesn’t expect this from me. His eyes were somewhere else until I finished my sentence. That’s when they flew to meet mine.

He gives me one last look before grabbing my cheeks and pulling me into him. I fall forward, wrapping my arms around him for support before my lips settle into his. We mesh together perfectly, a long peck before our lips part and he’s trying to snake his tongue into my mouth. I let him, and I don’t even notice when one of my hands rakes through his hair.

One of his hands drifts down my body, clinging to my waist. His thumb plays with the band of his own underwear hugging my body.

I don’t know how long we have been doing this. All I’m focusing on is the few sounds that come out of our mouths, little moans and deep breaths, others being the sound of our lips fighting for dominance. Then there’s the sound of slight creaks in the bed as we shift around.

I’m caught by surprise when he pulls me into his lap, but thank god he does. I don’t move around on him. I don’t grind my hips into his. I don’t try to feel how big he is underneath his clothing.

I sit there with my arms around him, a lustful makeout turning into soft kisses again as he holds my cheeks, his thumbs stroking my face.

I pull away for a moment to catch my breath, and I watch his face fall.

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately. “I shouldn’t have done that. Oh my god that was so fucking stupid.” He runs his hands through his hair in frustration, but all I’m focused on is how his biceps flexed in the process.

I pull his arms back down, a measly excuse to have my hands on the toned muscle, but also to comfort him. “Hey, it’s fine. Why don’t we just go to bed, and we can talk about this tomorrow?”

He takes a moment to think before he nods, placing a kiss on my cheek before letting me lay down next to him. Our backs face each other. We both stare at the wall in our direction, our heads clouded with thoughts.

After some time, when I was positive he was asleep, I feel the bed shift as he flips over, his body now facing the same way as mine.

His pinky hooks with mine in the softest grip.

I let his hand linger, taking it slow before I drive this car off a cliff.

I face him, looking down at his chest before I place my head on it and kick my leg to lay over his. Our bodies cling to each other immediately. He holds me like he’s scared of letting go.

I can’t get over how good this feels. Just laying here with him.

But I also know tomorrow could be a shit show after these events, so I have just tonight to bask in this before it all goes to shit.

#nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #strawberrysturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you

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theostrophywife · 5 months

Text

the crush theory.

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x reader.

song inspiration: london boy by taylor swift.

author’s note: this is just a cute indulgent coffee shop! au with my sweetheart enzo. majorly inspired by all the boyfriend vibes louis has been serving with miss olivia lately. let’s not even talk about the ass grab with his big hands and rings…🫣

Enzo Berkshire never quite managed to master the language of love.

Despite being a polyglot and a linguistics major, romance remained a complete mystery to him. It wasn't like he could craft a conjugation chart to help him not make a fool of himself in front of the girl of his dreams. When it came to matters of the heart, Enzo often found himself at a loss for words. Perhaps that was the reason why he never mustered up the courage to speak to you.

Until that one fateful fall morning.

The kiss of autumn arrived on campus a few weeks into the semester, freeing the city from the grips of the summer heat and bringing with it the changing of leaves and the distinct scent of cinnamon and apples. Enzo shoved his hands into the pockets of his burnt orange corduroy trousers and savored the sound of the jewel toned leaves crunching underneath his loafers. As the wind picked up, he wrapped his chunky knit cardigan tighter around himself to shield against the chilly breeze.

The ivy covered brick buildings and cobblestone streets faded into the background as he walked past the quad. Deja Brew, the little hole in the wall cafe that Enzo frequented, greeted him like an old friend. The coffee shop was located on the outskirts of campus and was only a short walk from his dorm, which made it the ideal place to conduct his tutoring sessions. Not only was it convenient, but the cozy and quiet ambience provided the perfect setting for Enzo to teach his fellow struggling students.

As time went on, the choice of location became less about convenience and more about catching a glimpse of you—the surly barista that worked the morning shift. For the past few months, Enzo developed a rather embarrassing crush on you. There was something about your scowl and no bullshit attitude that drew him to you like a moth to a flame. Though in his case, Enzo was perfectly content to hover a safe distance from the proverbial light of your fancy French cigarette lest he get burned.

Upon first glance, anyone would have been intimidated by you. With your faded band tees, ripped jeans, and scuffed leather boots, Enzo was well aware that a girl like you would never be interested in a bloke who's wardrobe consisted of sweaters with elbow patches, floral print button downs, and neatly pressed pleated trousers. Needless to say, you were way too cool for him.

Enzo was resigned to merely admiring you from afar, but fate seemed to have other ideas. The bell above the door tinkled softly as he made his way into Deja Brew only to stop dead in his tracks when he spotted you at the register. Usually, you were behind the bar manning the espresso machine during the early morning rush, but not today.

Today, you were front and center.

Part of him considered walking out the door, but given the fact that the shop was nearly empty, a hasty exit would definitely not go unnoticed. Enzo had no choice but to suck it up and approach the register with resignation. The minute he opened his mouth, he was sure he’d muck things up.

Enzo swallowed thickly and pushed his round framed glasses further up the bridge of his nose; a nervous habit he developed when he was younger. The erratic beat of his heart echoed in Enzo’s ears as his gaze flickered up to your face, expecting to be greeted with a frown. To his surprise, your lips curved into a small smile once you spotted him.

“Lemon balm tea with two pumps of peach syrup and a dollop of honey, right?”

Enzo blinked at the melodious sound of your voice, nearly missing the fact that you’d recited his exact order, which shouldn’t have been surprising given the fact that you’ve been making it for him for months. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little warm inside as you looked at him expectantly. He stared in stunned silence for a moment.

You furrowed your brow in doubt. “Did I get that wrong?”

“No, no, it’s right. It’s great. It’s perfect—“ Enzo cleared his throat, mentally kicking himself for rambling. “I’m just surprised that you remembered it.”

“Of course I remember it, you’re one of my regulars. I’d be a pretty shit barista if I forgot your order.” You cocked your head, tapping your lips thoughtfully. “Speaking of which, do you want your croissant warmed up, Lorenzo?”

“You know my name?”

Enzo hadn’t meant to sound so starstruck, but hearing his name come out of your mouth made his heart skip a beat.

“And your social security number too,” you deadpanned. Enzo’s eyes widened, which made you chuckle. “I’m just having a laugh. I promise I won’t commit identity theft against you. Unless you piss me off.”

You accompanied the statement with a cheeky wink, which only made Enzo even more nervous.

"Don't look so nervous, peach. I swear I don't bite."

“Right. Sure. Of course,” he stammered. “The tea and the croissant sounds good, Y/N.” The realization that you’ve never told him your name came a beat too late. “It’s on your chest. The name tag, I mean. I wasn’t just staring at your chest. Though I’m sure it’s very nice. Bloody hell, I’ll stop talking now.”

Enzo cringed at himself, but eased when you laughed. “You’re a strange bloke, Lorenzo.” You said as you began making his drink. “But I’ve got to admit, it’s oddly charming.”

He chuckled, trying to hide the flush coloring his cheeks. “That seems to be my sweet spot.”

"As sweet as peaches," you retorted as you added two pumps of peach syrup into his tea. "You'll have to excuse the fruit references. Before I knew your name, I referred to you solely as the peach guy."

"Is that good or bad?"

Enzo hiked his backpack over his shoulder and meandered down the end of the counter where you were topping off his tea with a dollop of honey. You swirled it into a heart pattern before sliding the warm cup into a sleeve.

"Well, I've never met anyone who's preferred drink could constitute as a dessert, so it's certainly something. You're an enigma, Lorenzo," you said thoughtfully. "Though I think I like peach better. You don't really strike me as a Lorenzo."

“You can call me Enzo. I prefer it over my full name. It sounds so stuffy.”

“We certainly can’t have that,” you said with a smirk. “Enzo. I like it. It’s rather becoming. Not stuffy at all.” He chuckled as you handed him a brown bag. "I might still call you peach from time to time. Force of habit. You understand, right?"

"Of course," Enzo replied. "El loro viejo no aprende a hablar."

"You kiss your mum with that mouth, peach?"

Enzo flushed. "It's Spanish for the old parrot does not learn to talk. Basically their equivalent of you can't teach an old dog new tricks." He shifted his weight onto his other foot. "What I'm trying to say is, I don't mind if you call me peach or Enzo or whatever else you'd like."

"You're giving me way too much freedom, Enzo. I intend on taking full advantage." You winked as you slid his drink over to him. “Enjoy your croissant. I put a little something extra in there for you.”

Enzo peered into the bag and saw an extra pastry wrapped in black cellophane next to his croissant. The brownie didn’t look like any of the ones behind the counter, which meant that it was probably homemade. Strange, he wouldn’t have pegged you for a baker.

“Oh, you really don’t have to—”

“Nonsense,” you countered, waving off his protests. “Really, you’d be doing me a favor. It’s an experimental recipe of mine, which makes you my guinea pig. As payment, I expect a full report on the brownie tomorrow morning. Don’t hold back either, peach. I want a brutally honest review.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” Enzo said in reassurance. “In any case, your guinea pig will take ample notes.”

“That would be much appreciated,” you said with a serious nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Enzo-not-Lorenzo.”

Enzo couldn’t help but grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

Enzo rubbed his temples, willing the headache forming behind his eyes to vanish. Unfortunately for him, his last tutoring session with Flint seemed to have left a permanent mark. While Enzo usually enjoyed teaching French, Marcus was proving to be a rather difficult case. Not only was Flint unwilling to do the work, the knobhead also spent the entire session leering at you instead of studying the conjugation chart that Enzo poured his blood, sweat, and tears on.

“Merlin, I have no idea how you deal with rich, smarmy arseholes all day.”

Enzo looked up to find you seated across the table, sliding a sandwich, a fruit cup, and a bag of crisps towards him without missing a beat. He hadn’t even realized it was already an hour past lunch until his stomach grumbled at the sight of food.

“One could argue that I’m also a rich, smarmy arsehole,” Enzo countered, picking up a grape and popping it into his mouth with a slight smile. “Yet you seem to have no problems dealing with me.”

“Yes, well, everyone knows I’m just using you for your body. Specifically, your taste buds.” Enzo shook his head in amusement before taking a bite out of the sandwich. Peanut butter and jelly, his favorite. “Besides, how else am I supposed to learn new insults in different languages if I hadn’t met you? Speaking of which, I believe I’m completely justified in saying that Flint is a total gehirnverweigerer.”

“Marcus isn’t so bad. He just needs a bit of a push,” Enzo replied rather unconvincingly.

“If by a push you mean my boot against his arse, then I wholeheartedly agree.”

“The French have this saying, petit à petit, l’oiseau fait son nid. In English, it roughly translates to: little by little, the bird builds its nest.”

“Except Flint isn’t a bird, he’s a twat,” you deadpanned. “The bloke was too busy staring at my arse to even pick up a lick of French. To think, you even made this cute little chart and everything. You have the patience of a saint, Enz.”

“One of us has to,” Enzo replied as he tore open the bag of wotsits. “Given your proclivity to violence.”

“Don’t make me take your crisps away, Lorenzo.”

Shielding his wotsits from your vengeful wrath, Enzo flashed you a saccharine smile. For good measure, he even batted his pretty honey eyes at you. The audacity. “Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite person in the whole entire world?”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Berkshire. Now finish your lunch or else I’ll be very cross with you.”

Enzo smiled to himself, wondering at the fact you were complete strangers until a few weeks ago. Ever since you gifted him with the best brownie he’s ever tasted in his entire life, he became your designated taste tester. Every morning, Enzo would start his day off with his usual lemon tea and whatever new pastry recipe you had chosen to tackle that week. Between the scones and muffins, Enzo learned that you intended on opening your own bakery after uni. Hence, his very important role of reviewing your recipes.

Granted, Enzo didn’t know how much of a help he actually was given the fact that he thought everything you made was amazing. Still, the novelty of finding a fresh pastry in his bag with a handwritten note from you never failed to brighten his morning. Especially since you signed each one with a crimson kiss print that made him blush every time he laid his eyes upon it. It was safe to say his crush had only gotten worse the more he got to know you.

As you settled behind the counter to help with the afternoon rush, Enzo attempted to get some work done before classes started for the day. With finals fast approaching, he was caught up on making sure he had everything in order. It wasn’t until Enzo heard a familiar voice when he finally tore his gaze away from his laptop screen.

Enzo froze as he watched one of his best mates saunter up to the counter. Even from his seat by the window, he could tell that Mattheo was flirting with you. In hindsight, his friend seemed exactly like the type of guy you would go for. The broody bad boy who probably listened to all the obscure bands that you often talked to him about. As Mattheo directed his smoldering gaze at you, Enzo thought he might be violently ill.

Squinting across the coffee shop, Enzo angrily shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers in an attempt to keep himself from strangling his curly headed friend.

In a tone that was at least an octave deeper than his regular voice, Mattheo drawled a question at you. “What’s good here?”

You stared at him pointedly before waving a hand towards the menu. “There’s coffee, there’s pastries. It’s really not rocket science.”

The deadpan delivery combined with the utterly unenthused expression on your face nearly made Enzo snort out loud. It might’ve been an arsehole move to rejoice at Mattheo’s fumble, but he found it immensely satisfying that you seemed to be immune to the infamous Riddle charm.

“A bit feisty today aren’t we, love? I just wanted to see what the pretty lady behind the counter recommends.”

Enzo watched in amusement as you slipped on your signature scowl, the one that made him fall for you in the first place. “The pretty lady recommends that you stop holding up the line so she can get to the other customers who actually know what they want.”

Hiding his smirk, Enzo feigned surprise as a dejected Mattheo plopped down across from him. “Merlin, that was brutal. Is the barista always this mean? I complimented her pins and she stared at me like I’d grown an extra head.”

“Y/N isn’t really a people person,” Enzo supplied.

“No shit, Berkshire.” Mattheo tapped his fingers on the counter. “Let’s just get to class before I embarrass myself any further.”

“That’s probably for the best,” replied Enzo.

Ignoring Mattheo’s glare, Enzo packed up his laptop and put his tray away. He followed his mate through the throng of people, which had thinned out once more. They were a few steps away from the door when you called out his name. With a raised brow, you held out a pink box. Enzo smiled sheepishly in return. He couldn’t believe he’d almost forgotten the dessert of the day.

“One lemon berry scone. Less tart, per your critique last week.” He took the box from your hands, blushing furiously when your fingers brushed against his. “Have a good class, peach.”

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll have your full report ready tomorrow.”

“You better.” Enzo nearly dropped the box when you winked at him. “Later, Berkshire.”

Smiling to himself, Enzo came face to face with a gaping Mattheo. “For Salazar’s sake, it’s like I don’t even exist.” He muttered before breaking out into a grin. “No wonder my moves had no effect. Mate, she obviously fancies you.”

Enzo’s cheeks immediately heated as he pushed out into the quad. “What? No. Y/N and I are just really good friends.”

“Now I understand why you come here so often,” Mattheo remarked. “If the mean hot barista plied me with baked goods and called me peach, I’d be coming here every day.”

“It's an inside joke about my drink order..." Enzo tried to explain. "The point is, Y/N isn’t mean. She’s actually really nice.”

“Yeah, because she likes you.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“Does too.” Mattheo countered. “Why else would she bake you a scone?”

“She wants to own a bakery someday. Obviously, that means she needs someone to test her recipes out on,” Enzo explained. “It’s how we became friends.”

“Right,” Mattheo said with a shit eating grin. “Friends.”

Enzo rolled his eyes. “Can we just please get to class?”

“Whatever you say, peach.”

“I have a theory,” Mattheo announced.

Enzo sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Not this again, mate.”

The rest of their friends perked up, abandoning their laptop screens and textbooks in favor of the newest piece of gossip. The little corner of the library that their group had claimed was fairly quiet, which was supposed to be optimal for revising, but Mattheo couldn’t seem to let his conspiracy theory go. He'd been badgering Enzo about it for a week.

“Berkshire here refuses to believe me, but I have it on good authority that Y/N has a crush on him.

“Y/N,” Theo started, “You mean his mean barista friend? She’s proper fit.”

“Don’t call her fit,” Enzo replied rather defensively.

“A little touchy there, Berkshire.” Regulus said with a chuckle. “Is that jealousy I sense?”

“For the millionth time, Y/N and I are just friends.”

“Is that the same friend that makes all those tasty pastries for you?” Draco asked with a raised brow. “I’ve seen the cute little notes she leaves for you posted all around your dorm. With the adorable kiss prints and hearts. Seems to me like Mattheo’s right. Y/N’s sweet on you, cousin.”

“Do me a favour and stop being a snooping twat, cousin.” Enzo retorted with a frown. “Y/N’s just being nice. It’s what friends do.”

“None of my mates have ever gone out of their way to bake me a bloody thing,” Blaise declared in feigned offense as he wrapped an arm around Pansy.

“Yes, well, none of your mates even know where the oven is located, let alone how to operate it,” replied his girlfriend. Pansy smiled at Enzo. “Besides, I think their friendship is sweet.”

“Thanks, Pans.”

“So you don’t fancy Y/N?” Theo asked. Enzo opened his mouth then closed it. He was well aware that his friend was baiting him, but he refused to fall into Theo’s trap.

“Like I said, we’re friends.”

“In that case, you wouldn’t mind if I asked for her number, right?”

As a matter of fact, Enzo did fucking mind. He minded very much. Too much, probably. But he couldn’t very well say that out loud. Instead, he masked his scowl and returned his attention to revising.

“Knock yourself out, mate.”

Theo smirked. “Alright then, let’s go.”

“Go where?” Enzo asked disinterestedly, flipping through his study sheet for Latin.

“To Deja Brew,” Theo replied smugly. “We all need a study break, anyways.”

“You want to go there? Right now?” With each question, Enzo’s death grip tightened on his notes. “To ask for Y/N’s number?”

“That shouldn’t be a problem, right? In fact, maybe you could introduce us.”

Enzo would rather walk on hot coals. “I think I'll pass. I've already seen her turn Mattheo down and that was brutal enough as it is. I don’t need an encore.”

“Riddle’s probably not her type.”

Mattheo frowned, crossing his arms. “I’m everyone’s type.”

Theo chuckled. “Apparently not hers. Perhaps she’d prefer a handsome Italian, no?”

Mattheo rolled his eyes. “In your dreams, Nott.”

“Now I’m intrigued,” exclaimed Blaise. “I’d never miss an opportunity to witness Theodore get humbled. Are you sure you’re ready for a woman like Y/N, Nott?”

“Please,” Theo scoffed. “I was born ready.”

Against his will, Enzo found himself at Deja Brew ten minutes later. In his usual corner by the window, he brooded like a petulant child. This was a horrible, terrible, and idiotic idea. All he wanted to do was revise and now his study session had been hijacked just so he could watch Theo flirt with the girl he fancied.

“You know, you can put a stop to this any time you’d like,” Mattheo said in a sing-songy voice. “Just admit that my theory is right. Y/N has a crush on you and I’m willing to bet that the feeling is mutual. Isn’t it, Berkshire?”

Enzo crossed his arms, rolling his eyes. Instead of giving into Mattheo’s childish pursuits, he opened his laptop and pretended to be immersed with Russian translations.

“Have it your way, Enzo.” Regulus declared, nodding towards the register. “Nott’s about to give us a show.”

As irritated as he was with his friends, Enzo couldn’t tear his gaze away. Theo marched up to the counter with swagger and confidence, slipping on his signature smirk. You looked up from your phone screen, giving the tall and lanky boy a sweeping gaze. The unenthused expression on your face screamed that you weren’t at all impressed.

“Y/N, is it?” Theo drawled, squinting at the nametag pinned to your apron. “A pretty name for a pretty lady.”

“Thanks,” you deadpanned. “My parents gave it to me. Now what can I get started for you?”

“Aren’t you going to ask me for my name?”

“I know who you are,” you replied dismissively. “One of Enzo’s friends, right? I heard about your little stunt in the fountain. You know, December’s not really a smart time to go skinny dipping.” Theo flushed as your eyes trailed down to his crotch. “Certain parts shrivel in the cold, Nott.”

“I assure you, my parts were perfectly intact.”

“That’s not what Katie Bell said,” you countered, tapping your lips thoughtfully. “I believe I heard something about shrinkage.” Theo opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. “I’ll tell you what, Theodore. Why don’t I fix you up a cappuccino? It’ll help keep you and your parts warm and cozy.”

Enzo bit his lip to keep himself from bursting into laughter. The rest of his friends snickered as they watched a dejected Theo return to the table.

Regulus snorted as he sat back down in defeat. “Merlin, that was hard to watch. Absolutely brutal, really.”

Theo glared at Regulus in response. “I’d like to see you do better, Black.”

Regulus winked. “Watch and learn, boys.”

The older boy had about as much luck as Theo. Though the attempts had put him in a foul mood at first, Enzo was absolutely elated as he watched you turn down his friends. Regulus received an eye roll while Draco reeled from the head to toe once-over that humbled the absolute hell out of him.

“It’s useless,” his cousin mumbled. “She hates everyone.”

“Or maybe Y/N just doesn’t appreciate random blokes chatting her up while she’s trying to do her job,” Pansy said with an eye roll.

“Oh bloody hell, here she comes.” Regulus muttered under his breath. “I don’t think my ego can take another hit.”

The boys cowered as you came closer, but you didn’t pay them any mind. Instead, you set a fresh mug of tea and a lemon scone down in front of Enzo.

“Last one, I promise. It’s finally perfect this time.”

“You said that the last three times,” Enzo said with a chuckle. “They were all brilliant, by the way. Not that you listen to my well crafted reviews.”

“You say that about everything I make, Enz. Honestly, a girl bakes you a couple of treats and suddenly I’m the best thing since sliced bread.”

“I’m just being honest,” he replied with a shrug. “You couldn’t bake a single bad pastry if you tried.”

“I’d like to try a pastry,” Mattheo interjected.

You tore your attention away from Enzo. The smile that you reserved for him transformed into a scowl, your entire body language turning stern. “I’m sorry. Who are you again?”

“Riddle,” Mattheo supplied. “Mattheo Riddle.”

“Right,” you said slowly, as if speaking to a small child. “My pastries aren’t for sale. You’re more than welcome to try the day-old brownie behind the counter though. If you can manage to chew through it.”

Mattheo sputtered, but you paid no mind to his aghast expression. Enzo fought the urge to kiss you right then and there.

“Closing again tonight?” he asked, ignoring the blatant stares from the rest of his friends.

“Unfortunately. Diggory bailed again. Probably too busy snogging Cho to come in for his shift,” you said with an eye roll.

“Leave those lovebirds alone,” Enzo quipped back. “They’re in their honeymoon phase.”

“I can’t for the life of me understand how they aren’t sick of each other by now.”

“That’s because you’re a mean old grump.” You glared at him, which only made Enzo smile. “Luckily for you, that doesn’t deter me. I’ll come keep you company if you want. I promise to be way more entertaining than Cedric.”

“It’s not a hard task to accomplish, but I’ll take you up on it nonetheless.”

“I thought you might say that,” he said with a small smile. “I’ll meet you back here after my last class. Pad Thai tonight?”

You nodded and grinned back. “This is why you’re my favorite, peach.”

The boys gaped as you ruffled his hair in parting. They waited until you were out of earshot before launching into a tirade.

“What the bloody hell was that?”

“Just friends my arse.”

“I can’t believe she actually smiled at you!”

“It’s strange how treating Y/N like an actual human being instead of pestering her while she’s trying to work yields such positive results,” Pansy retorted. “I think you all need to start following Enzo’s example. Clearly he’s had more success than you lot.”

Blaise patted Enzo on the back. “Mate, you might be the most oblivious bloke in all of Britain, but you’d have to be an absolute knobhead not to see what’s right in front of you.”

He hummed in response, glancing up at the exact same time that your gaze met his from across the room. You winked, making him blush furiously. Merlin, you were pretty. It was honestly unfair. Maybe Zabini was onto something.

When it came to you, even Enzo had to agree that he was a total and absolute knobhead.

Later that night, Enzo helped you clear the plates and mugs as the last customers trickled out of Deja Brew. The soft sounds of your perfectly curated playlist trickled over the speakers as you flipped the sign to closed. He watched with a small smile as you hopped up onto the counter and beckoned him over. The fairy lights twinkled above the ceiling, illuminating your smile as Enzo took his place next to you.

The sight of you grinning up at him tugged at his heartstrings. There were coffee stains on your jeans and apron, your thick hair was falling out of its braid, and a cold bowl of Pad Thai awaited in your lap and yet he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

“Aren’t you glad Cedric bailed?” Enzo teased, knocking his shoulder with yours. “Now you get to enjoy cold noodles with your favorite person.”

You chuckled, nudging him back. “I suppose this is nicer than listening to Diggory ramble on about Quidditch. It’s always bludger this, bludger that. I honestly considered bludgeoning him myself.”

“To be fair, the man could merely breathe and you’d still find a way to be annoyed by it.”

“No one needs to inhale that much oxygen.”

“I rest my case, you mean old grump.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “You know, if anyone else called me that I’d poke their eye out with a fork.” Enzo chuckled as you stabbed into your bowl of noodles. “Besides, I have every right to be grumpy. It’s been a long day. Thanks to your incessant little friends.”

“I’m sorry about the guys,” he said earnestly. “I tried to talk them out of flirting with you, but they’ve got this crazy theory.”

“Oh?” You asked, raising a brow. “What’s the theory, then?”

Enzo flushed, avoiding your gaze. “They uh…” He cleared his throat and stared at his shoes. “They think you fancy me.”

“Hmm,” you hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe they’re not idiots after all. Your friends are right. I do fancy you.”

White noise rushed through his ears. Enzo’s mouth fell open as he met your gaze. Surely, he hadn’t heard you correctly.

“You alright there, peach?”

“You…” Enzo trailed off, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You like me?”

You chuckled. “I have for a bit. Thanks for finally noticing.”

“How?” Enzo muttered. “What?” He cocked his head, trying to search for the proper words. “Why?”

At the moment, it appeared that one syllable words were the full extent of his vocabulary. All those languages in his head and yet he couldn’t form a single coherent sentence.

“Enz, I know your drink order by heart,” you explained softly. “I make you cupcakes and muffins. I write you notes every day. I thought I made myself pretty obvious.”

“Gods,” he breathed, silently reprimanding himself. “I really am the most oblivious bloke in Britain.” Enzo licked his lips, turning over to look at you. “I just thought you were being nice.”

“Lorenzo, when have I ever been nice to anyone?”

“I am a bloody idiot.”

“You never made a move, so I just thought you didn’t see me that way. Which is fine, by the way. I don’t mind being friends.”

Enzo turned so fast he nearly smacked into the register. “Are you kidding? I’ve had a crush on you for months. You’re the best part of my day. Waking up and knowing that I get to see you every morning is the only thing that gets me out of bed.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You’re out of my league. You’re smart and funny and not to mention way too cool. Honestly, I thought you’d go for someone like Mattheo or Theo or literally anyone else but me. Someone a little more…” he trailed off, waving a hand over you.

“Scary?”

“No! Well, yes. Someone more confident and intimidating.”

“Bad boys aren’t really my type.”

He scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. “They’re not?”

“No,” you said, setting down your food and turning over to face him. “My type is a nerdy linguistics major who teaches me how to curse in six different languages and who makes cute little conjugation charts and orders drinks that should quite frankly classify as a dessert.”

Enzo’s smile grew wider. "I like you too, you know. A lot. Like, embarrassingly so. With your grumpy little scowl and all black wardrobe and dry humor. I like all of it."

You beamed as Enzo leaned closer, tracing your lips like he was trying to commit the curves of your smile to his memory. His heart pounded in his chest as your eyes flickered up to meet his.

"Then kiss me like you mean it, Enzo."

Despite your confidence, the air left your lungs as soon as Enzo cradled your face in his hands. The twinkling lights made his brown eyes shimmer like pools of honey in the dark. The tension stretched between you as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing yours ever so gently. They briefly closed around yours—tasting, testing, taunting. Then the dam broke free.

Enzo pressed you closer and kissed you like his life depended on it. You smiled against his lips, melting into his touch as he tilted your head back for more. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as Enzo sighed into your mouth, his lips molding perfectly against yours. The once shy and experimental kisses turned needy and passionate, making you feel slightly lightheaded. Enzo savored your soft sighs, kissing you over and over again to elicit more.

It wasn't until you felt like the air had been depleted from your lungs when he finally relented. He pressed his forehead against yours, noses brushing as you both grinned at each other. It felt right to be this close. It felt like you were made to do this all along. Enzo brushed his thumb over your cheek, looking dazed as he pulled back to look at you.

“It’s about time, Berkshire.”

“Hey,” Enzo grumbled, pecking at your lips. “You can’t blame me. I couldn’t even look at you without blushing and making a fool of myself. You’re so intimidating.”

“Not so scary now, am I?”

“Oh no, I’m still terrified of you. But I’ve also seen you cry during the Notebook, so I know that deep down inside, you’re just a big softie.”

You started to protest, but Enzo just leaned in and kissed you again. With his lips pressed against yours, you couldn’t even remember what you were about to say. As he pulled you into his lap, you heard cheers coming from outside. Behind the glass window, his friends were cheering and wolf-whistling rather obnoxiously on the street.

Enzo responded by flicking them off and kissing you even harder, pressing your bodies together as you giggled. He hauled you to your feet, his arms circling around your waist as he dipped you for a better angle. Your back hit the counter as you raised to your tiptoes, winding your arms around his neck and mussing up his hair as you arched for more. The hollering only grew more incessant when Enzo grabbed your ass and squeezed. The groan that escaped from his mouth made you dizzy with desire.

If one kiss could elicit such a response out of you, it was almost scary to think what else Enzo had in his arsenal. A cheeky little smile curved against his lips as though he knew exactly what you were thinking. You basked under the warmth of his gaze, feeling flushed and flustered. That pretty face had you entirely fooled. Enzo was far from innocent.

“Gods, I really fucking fancy you.”

With a smile, you kissed the tip of his nose. “I really fucking fancy you too, peach.”

Despite the many languages in Enzo's arsenal, no phrase or saying could convey how he felt better than his lips against yours. Maybe he hadn't quite mastered the language of love, but he had a feeling that you'd be more than willing to teach him.

#my pretty boy give me coffee shop shy enzo #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire x you #enzo berkshire imagine #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire imagine #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire smut #lorenzo berkshire fluff

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fuckmymunson · 1 year

Note

eddie who has a reputation to uphold, the weird and scary freak who wears chains and big metal rings and always goes on tangents about his hatred for the popular kids, not a sliver of fear or weakness in his eyes. eddie who at the same time never leaves his house without the light yellow scrunchy with daisies on it that you gave him, always on his wrist or wrapped in his hair.

eddie who’s sweet n soft on you in a way he never is with anyone else 🥹

💌 a/n: Oh god, this, this, this, this. Please, I don’t ask for much. I’m so happy to get back to writing! Hope you like it!

🪷 Check my recent poll ¡! 📌

“I lost it” His voice sounded almost defeated, and quite inopportune.

“Eddie!” You jolted in your place, closing the light green locker door. Behind it, there he was, the big, scary, mean freak of Hawkins High. Covered from head to toe in chains, leather, ripped jeans, black, black, all black. With dark, unruly hair and a chunky rings.

But also, with puppy eyes, and a quivering lip.

“You scared the shit out of me, Eds” The frown on your pretty face made his heart jump inside his chest. You were an angel, a sight for sore eyes.

“I lost it” He repeated.

“You lost what?”

“I’m sorry” Eddie looked down, apparently now his Reeboks were the most interesting thing.

“Care to explain what is missing and why are you apologizing?” Crossing your arms over your chest, you waited, for almost three minutes.

“I lost the scrunchy you gave me” He finally admitted, like a criminal at trial.

Eddie heard you sigh, to his ears, was a sigh of disappointment. In reality, it was a sigh of relief. Only Edward Munson knew how to make a simple thing as a scrunchy into a faithful message.

“That’s it? Eddie, it’s just a hair tie” You shook your head, still not comprehending the dimensions of his problem.

“It’s not just a hair tie!” He exclaimed, now almost offended, of course only he could switch mood that easily. A few curious students looked at your way, still wondering how did an adorable piece of cotton and sunshine like you, was dating the metalhead, three-times senior freak of not only high school, but of the whole town.

“Yes it is, love. I can just give you another one, don’t worry— Look, I can give you the one I’m wearing…”

“I don’t want that one” He said, his words sounding almost like a tantrum. “I want the one you gave me on our first date, the yellow one with little sunflowers”

“Daisies, Eddie” You corrected him with a smile. Only Eddie was able to remember such a tiny detail and forget a crucial detail.

Only Eddie was able to make you feel loved, cherished and appreciated. He was so different from every other person you have dated before. He snatched your heart from the very first day and it’s been a daily occurrence for almost a year. The scary, weird freak, the person considered a devil worshipper, the mean senior who had the admirable (or idiotic) courage to stand out against others who felt like they had the right to humiliate and ridicule those who weren’t like them. Your Eddie, the one who broke a jock’s nose one time for slapping your ass walking through the halls. Your Eddie, who waited patiently until every extracurricular activities you were into were over, so he could drive you home and hold your thigh and listen to you throughout the whole ride. Your Eddie, who loved Saturday night because it meant movie night, cuddles and kisses. The mean freak who let you braid his hair, paint his nails, sew his old t-shirts.

The Eddie Munson who was scared of spiders but wasn’t scared of a hundred people crowd. The boy who initiated a food fight at the cafeteria and had to go to the nurses office because an orange hit his eye and he realized he was allergic to them. The man who every Friday made fairy tales, knight stories and evil monsters come true and walk this very earth with just his voice and his imagination at his D&D club. Your Eddie, who on your first date, dropped a chocolate milkshake on top of your white dress, forgot to fill his fuel tank, and had to push his van all the way to the nearest gas station.

That’s how the bright scrunchy ended up in his hair, in a makeshift ponytail that you made by running your delicate fingers through his tangled hair.

That was your Eddie.

Your Eddie. Yours. Yours.

“Fine, let’s go find it” You said, grabbing his hand and kissing his knuckles. “Tell me what you did today…”

Sorry for any mistakes! English is not my first language. Thank you for reading!˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

#Anya is writing! ᜊ( ᜊ ´ ˘) ੭ #Anya’s love letters! ۪ 💌 ۫#Anya dreams of Eddie!(〃＾▽＾〃)#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson blurb #stranger things fic #eddie munson fics

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hollewdz · 2 months

Text

Quinn and Jaz - Ch 1

word count: ~2.1k

_______________________

Quinn sometimes wondered if she was cursed.

Not with a big, life-altering curse; she didn’t believe she was important enough for one of those. She wondered if someone, somewhere, decided she was worth fucking with, and decided, every day, to do little things to make her life just that much harder. Right now, she was wondering if this mystery-being decided to make her bus late.

Pacing a circle into the snow at the bus stop, a flash of ice bit at Quinn’s heel. Looking down, she saw a pathetic old winter boot, ripped at the seam and gulping in muddy ice slush.

“Because the bus being late just wasn’t fun enough, huh?” she griped, trying and failing to shake the ice from her boot. She hated this. Hated these long, exhausting days of classes and overtime shifts, which would have been bearable, if the damn bus was even half as efficient as she was.

A long, forced sigh shot into the air in a dramatic cloud. Instead of standing around for 20 minutes in the cold for a slimy bus, she could walk for 15 minutes back to her apartment. It would suck, but at least she could choose the suckiness she had to deal with. Briskly trudging her way through the slush and muck on the cracked sidewalks home, chunky snowflakes began drifting through the air around her. Quinn wanted to cry, but refused to permit herself the catharsis. She’d been through so much worse; and heavy college textbooks, a long shift at Shelly’s, a late bus, a broken shoe and walking in the snow was nothing compared to that.

This isn’t for forever, Quinn’s calming mantra surfaced in her mind. It’s not even for the next 20 minutes. Get home and you can take a steaming hot shower and have some soup.

Slowing to a stop at a crosswalk, Quinn nearly tripped on a wet heap of something piled right next to the crosswalk button. What the hell? After mashing the button a few times, she used her good boot to shove some of the snow away. A pile of soaking wet clothes, some sneakers and an expensive-looking bag stared back glumly at her.

Who would strip in this weather? Crouching down to balance sitting on her ankles, she unzipped the bag and rummaged through it. Tugging out a heavy metal clip wallet, tapped out the cards to see that this bag -and presumably outfit- belonged to…

“...Jasper Ross” she breathed absent-mindedly. Why does that sound familiar? Quinn was hardly a socialite, and she only knew the names of the people she had to deal with for projects and such. There was a sudden stirring from the pile of clothes. With a yelp reminiscent of a scared chihuahua, Quinn splashed clumsily from her half-perch-half-crouch into a slush of muddy ice. Oh God, a rat?? Not even caring that her backside was now soaking wet, Quinn tried and failed to push herself away from the nest of laundry, her old worn boots refusing to grip the ice. Then, she heard the most peculiar noise that gave her pause- an almost unhearable, muffled shout came from within the pile of clothes. “What the fuck?! Where am I?”

Quinn’s eyes grew wide as she saw a… a… tiny guy. There was a tiny guy, emerging from the pile in front of her. Frozen in place, Quinn couldn’t tear her eyes away, she needed to download every bit of information about this new phenomena in front of her.

He looked proportionate, and fit. Even, golden-brown skin with a mop of dark brown hair. He seemed to be assessing his surroundings, hands exploring the fabric around him. He could have been muttering something, too, but Quinn wasn’t close enough to hear. Miniscule eyes finally swiveled towards Quinn, and for a moment Quinn thought he looked quite a lot like an action figure with how still he went. His face slowly traced from her boots to finally meet her bewildered gaze.

A long silence yawned between the two- Quinn had no idea how to approach this situation. Usually she’d blame her awkward personality, but she figured most people would be struggling for words right about now. Thankfully, she didn’t need to worry about what to say.

“Oh hell no,” the man said with an exasperated groan. He began to rub his eyes vigorously. Quinn blinked. “Excuse me?” “Hey, lady, um, I think my vision is fucked. You look absolutely massive,” the man stated plainly. He righted himself and offered another comment, “And not in, like, a fat way. It’s like, a sky-scraper, ‘massive’ way. You think you could call an ambulance for me? That bitch from last night probably drugged me.” She ignored anything that could have been implied. Quinn’s throat had gone dry from the cold, but she managed to force out a response.

“Your vision has nothing to do with it. You’re, like, a borrower, dude,” Quinn half laughed. She had no clue how to react to this. The laughter built into a chuckle, then a full-blown fit. “W-what the fuck!” She managed to say between laughs of disbelief. She slapped her gloved hands firmly clasped over her mouth, failing to quell her convulsive laughter. She felt a heat begin to rise in her face, and darted her eyes along the street, head on a swivel. Thank god there’s no people around. “Lady, you’re a total psycho,” the diminutive man offered, going back to scrubbing his eyes.

A lazy snowflake slowly drifted down and planted atop the man’s head. Quinn steadied her breathing, watching him reach up and break a bit of the snowflake off in a crystal shard and then melt in his doll-sized hand.

“Hm.” He started shivering then, enough for Quinn to notice. In fact, her own jeans had been soaking in ice-water since she slipped, and it was becoming very clear she needed to take control of the situation before things got worse.

Drawing in a deep breath and loosing a cloud of fog into the chilled air, Quinn composed herself as well as she could manage. Chill out, he’s just…some guy. A very, very small guy, but still, she thought. She closed her eyes and breathed, then looked back to the doll-sized man. “Are you Jasper Ross?” she asked, holding up his wallet and sliding out his ID for him to see.

“First of all, looking through other peoples’ things is pretty invasive- but yes, that’s me. Secondly,” he pointed at her, “no one calls me ‘Jasper’. Ew. It’s Jaz.” He ran his hands over the folded cloth in front of him to dry his hands, and started rubbing his arms sharply. “Seriously, it’s too fucking cold out.”

Quinn started feeling a bit bad for Jasper- or, Jaz, despite him being all sorts of rude. He was the size of a hamster, of course the cold would be biting at him hard. “Do you have any place I could take you to-”

“No,” Jaz shot, slumping into a grumble. “No I don’t.”

“For real?” Quinn furrowed her brow. “I would offer to take you to, like, the police, but I don’t think you’d like it there, either.”

“So you’re abducting me?”

“I’ll take you to the police station if you want.”

Jaz thought for a moment. “Yeah, I’d rather not be a lab rat. Do you have a place?”

“Wuh- me?” Quinn sat back again, but this time in shock at how forward he was being. A gust of icy wind made her shudder, and the cold concrete was making her legs go numb. “I-I mean, I do have a place, but-”

“Perfect, take me there.”

“I’m not ready for, uh, company-”

“Lady, I’m about to freeze to death, that doesn’t matter.”

Quinn pursed her lips, holding her breath. He does look like he’s in the early stages of popsicle… And, realistically, what’s the worst that can happen? Pinching the crease between her brows and sighing, she shifted and replaced the wallet in the bookbag. “Fine. Just let me plan out how to carry everything, alright?”

“Roger that, Goliath,” Jaz shot back, gathering fabric to cloak himself, making him look even smaller than before. “What is your name, anyway, lady?”

Quinn was unamused by Jaz’s nickname. “What a skill, you guessed it right on the very first try. People usually say I look more like a Gulliver, though.” She finished packing up Jaz’s bag and swung it over her vacant shoulder. How should I tackle the clothes?

“I think you look like a perfect Goliath. Same stature, and all,” Jaz quipped.

“Quinn. Is my, uh, name,” she offered lamely, rolling her eyes. “So. I assume you’re naked. And you’re standing in the middle of the clothes. I dunno what to do, champ.”

“You can’t just grab everything all at once?”

She gave a huff, “All of that shit is like 20 pounds, it’s soaked. Maybe I can shove it in your bag? I don’t want to ruin anything-”

“Just do that, then, I can get a new bag.”

Quinn’s eyes went wide at how wasteful of a thought that was, even if he could have been joking. She was slightly angry on behalf of the bag. “Whatever, it’s your shit. You want to go in the bag too?”

“You literally just said it’s freezing and soaked.”

“Well then I guess you’re walking,” Quinn huffed, growing tired of his less-than-pleasant attitude.

“Can’t you just…” Jaz trailed off, eyeing her gloved hands. He lingered there, and… gulped? Quinn couldn’t really tell. “What if you let me have your glove?”

“You’re naked.”

“And freezing.”

Quinn looked down at her left hand for a long, disgusted moment. The gloves were the only things she had that were actually high quality- a gift from her younger brother. Her eyes scrunched tight at the thought of them being treated the same way this guy treated his bag. She summoned her courage, “You have to be clean. If you get them dirty you own me new ones.”

“God, is that not obvious? Anyway hurry it up, this isn’t funny anymore. It’s getting actually painful to be this cold.”

Quinn was surprised by how quickly he offered to pay for the gloves, and would have been suspicious he was lying if not for how disinterested he seemed by it. She pushed a finger under the cuff of her left glove, got it halfway up her hand, then pinched and tugged the glove off from her middle finger. She quickly went to lay it down next to Jaz, but stuttered when she saw how her hands truly dwarfed him.

Quinn had never felt big, compared to anything before. Even though she was taller than average, her nature was to minimize herself; withdraw until no one could tell she took up any space at all. So much of her life was dedicated to remaining unseen, that she might have convinced herself that she didn’t even exist.

Maybe that was why she grew queasy at seeing the truly baffling difference in size between them, why she felt more than ever that she had to shrink smaller than this finger-sized man before her. She basically lost sight of him behind her hand, as if there wasn’t a tiny person in the heap of clothing at all.

She ripped her hands back from the glove as if it had burned her, “Whatever, don’t worry about the glove. Just get in and yell when you’re good to go.” She slouched and waited for him to call out, shrugging his bag back to the ground and unzipping it. She heard a muffled Okay let’s get a move on, and she pinched the opening of the glove to hover it above the clothes, then used her free hand to quickly and clumsily shove the sopping outfit into his really nice bag.

She was able to ignore that queasy feeling with Jaz out of sight, thankfully. She tried to be as careful as she could standing up, figuring the best way to keep her gloves clean was to give Jaz a steady ride so he wouldn’t blow chunks, and she slipped the glove gingerly into one of her winter coat’s inner pockets. Still, the thought of Jaz spilling his guts didn’t stop her from basically jogging home- the promise of soup had never been so desirable.

__________ Chapter 2

This drawing is from like, 2020 and is definitely more of a concept image than 100% accurate X] I'll have to redraw it! I've actually been sitting on this story for so long, and I've gone back and forth about whether or not I wanted to do a comic or not, I just decided "fuck it write the damn thing and go from there" so here we are! :3

#Quinn and Jaz #My writing #g/t #giant/tiny #giant tiny #macro/micro #giant #g/t community #gt #giantess #minors dni

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lilacmingi · 6 months

Text

SECRET SANTA

All my works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Fashion designer!Hongjoong x fashion designer!fem reader

Word count: 3,170

Note: Since December is starting soon I thought it would be the perfect time to start posting Christmas imagines from 2021. Since this imagine originated on Wattpad, there will not be any continuations

You sat at your station, your half-finished sketch left abandoned and forgotten, your eyes following Hongjoong as he made his way through the massive room, collecting different fabrics for his next masterpiece. The outfit he wore was flawless, as usual—he was flawless. His choppy mullet was tousled perfectly, he wore a black bleach-stained shirt; the collar had been cut, making it hang lower, showing off his beautifully sculpted collarbones and that adorable mole at the base of his neck. On top of the shirt was a leather jacket paired with ripped black jeans and chunky boots.

A pair of hands slammed onto your desk as a body blocked your view. Glancing up, you saw your coworker, Minghao, with a Santa hat in hand.

"Move." You waved your hand in a shooing gesture. "You're blocking the view."

"You can stop staring at Hongjoong long enough to put your name in the hat."

"What?"

"Put your name in the hat. It's for secret Santa."

"I'm not into the whole secret Santa thing."

"Come on. You get three gifts, one on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, plus we're having a big party to end the week."

You gave an indifferent hum in response.

"Hongjoong signed up for it." Minghao mentioned in a sing-song voice.

"If I put my name in the stupid hat, will you let me continue staring at him?"

"Of course."

You quickly scribble your name down on a small piece of paper, dropping it into the hat.

"Thank you." Minghao grinned, sauntering away.

Once he left, Hongjoong had already returned to his station, which wasn't a problem because you had a perfect view of him.

You'd always admired Hongjoong for his killer style and out-of-the-box ideas. You admit, you've only spoken to him a handful of times, so you don't know him that well, but every conversation you've shared with him has been a good one.

Later that day, the names in the hat were shuffled around and every employee drew a slip of paper from the hat. You unfolded your paper seeing the name Taehyung scrawled on it. You were familiar with Taehyung and knew he would be pretty easy to buy for. In fact, you already had a few things in mind.

"Alright." Your boss clasped his hands together. "Now that everyone has drawn a name, I'll go over the rules. Gifts will be given Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. We have a ₩60,000 (about $50) limit on each gift. You don't have to spend that amount, but try not to go over if you can. The presents will be collected under the Christmas tree over here and distributed to everyone at the end of the work day. Sound good?"

Everyone nodded in understanding.

"Okay, good. Secret Santa starts in two weeks, so you've got time to shop. Have fun."

A couple weeks passed and you had purchased three gifts for Taehyung and had them all wrapped neatly. You carried gift number one into work with you, placing it underneath the tree before heading over to your station. You stopped when you saw a gift sitting on your desk. You picked up the small box, examining it.

You wondered why the gift was on your desk and not underneath the tree and why your secret Santa would put it there. Glancing around, you decided to go ahead and open it.

You pulled the paper back, revealing a small black box with a sticky note on the top that read: To Y/n. Upon removing the lid, you saw a beautiful pair of earrings and a matching necklace. Your eyes widened as you ran your fingers over the flashy jewelry. There was no way what you held in your hand was worth just ₩60,000. You glanced around the room again to see if anyone was watching, but everyone seemed to be busy doing their own thing.

You couldn't think of anyone that would buy you such an extravagant gift, let alone leave it on your desk.

With no answers to your many questions, you decided to just get to work. You had a few sketches you worked on in the past weeks and had started making a blouse. You headed over to the fabric wall and began picking out the ones you needed. Once you had all the materials at your station, you got to work.

The day seemed to pass by fairly quickly and before you knew it, your boss was handing out secret Santa presents. Since you already opened yours, you watched for Taehyung to get his. Once the present was placed on his desk, he started unwrapping it. His mouth dropped open when he pulled out canvases and a paint set equipped with brushes, an easel, and even a palette for the paint.

You tried to hold back your smile as you watched him pull out the small note you typed up.

You then turned your attention to Hongjoong who had just finished unwrapping his gift. It was some sort of sweater, which didn't seem to be his style. Your face twisted in slight distaste as you saw it. If it were you, you would have gotten him a more edgier-looking sweater, or even a beret. You've seen him wear them before and would assume he'd enjoy receiving one as a gift.

Everyone got ready to leave for the day, you decided to walk up and talk to Hongjoong.

"Hey." You greeted.

"Hi, Y/n."

Your heart melted when he said your name. It sounded so beautiful and melodic when it came from him.

"Nice sweater." You told him.

"Thanks. It's..." He trailed off, giving you a wary glance.

"Don't worry. I'm not your secret Santa." You assured him.

"Ah." He seemed relieved. "Well, it's honestly not my style, but I'm sure I'll find a way to dress it up." He smiled.

"I'm sure you will. You're extremely talented."

He let out a tiny chuckle, glancing at the floor for a moment. "Thank you. So, what did your secret Santa get you?"

"Jewelry. Expensive-looking jewelry too. They also left it on my desk."

"Really?" He raised a brow. "What does the jewelry look like?"

"Here." You dug around in your bag, pulling out the tiny box and opening it.

"Wow." He marveled. "That's beautiful."

"It is. It's my style as well. Makes me curious about what else my secret Santa has in store."

"Well, let's hope they get you stuff you like."

"I'll be thankful no matter what I get." You smiled. "Anyway, I'm gonna head home. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah." Hongjoong smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow."

When secret Santa day two rolled around, you placed your present for Taehyung underneath the tree and headed to your work station as per usual.

Sitting on your desk was a sizable box wrapped in metallic deep blue wrapping, a white bow on top. You placed your hand over your mouth, glancing around the workplace. You lifted the small tag on the box, reading the writing on it.

I don't like following rules.

- Your Secret Santa

You debated about wether you wanted to open it right away or just wait. After debating for a moment, you decided to hold off and be patient. However, you found it hard to concentrate as you worked on the blouse. Your eyes kept drifting over to the shiny gift sitting on your desk.

Whoever has been leaving presents at your workspace seems to be a risk-taker, as they're coming in and leaving the gift, chancing getting caught by someone. You could only assume they were arriving before everyone else and making sure no one saw them.

"Ooh." You heard someone say.

You placed your needle onto your desk, turning to see no other than Minghao.

"What?" You asked.

"That shiny gift on your desk." He pointed with a grin.

"It's from my secret Santa."

"Why didn't they put it under the tree?"

"Beats me." You shrugged.

"You're not opening it now?"

"No. I opened the first one as soon as I came into work Monday, but I'm holding back for this one."

"You sure?" Minghao asked.

"Yes, I'm sure. I'm gonna be patient."

"Okay, then. Good luck with your blouse." He waved, returning to his own work station.

The end of the work day approached and it was time for secret Santa once again.

You watched as everyone's gifts were handed out, deciding to watch Taehyung open his again.

You knew how much Taehyung loved his dog, Yeontan, so today's gift was a matching top you made for him and his beloved pet. You used beautiful brown and beige printed fabric and made a button down shirt and a mini version for Yeontan. A bright and brilliant boxy smile spread across Taehyung's features as he saw his gift. You couldn't hold back your own bright smile as you saw his reaction. It made you feel like you'd done a pretty good job of choosing his gifts thus far.

After seeing Taehyung open his gift you went to open yours. Unlike Monday's gift, this one didn't have to be unwrapped. The box and lid itself were wrapped separately so all you had to do was remove the top. Upon removing the lid, you saw a pair of heels. They were black suede platforms with a block heel. There were two straps on them; one strap to go across the toes and one to buckle around the ankle. They were simple, but beautiful and seemed like they'd be easy to walk in, which was perfect for you.

You lifted one of the shoes from the box, examining it and checking the size.

"These are my size." You muttered to yourself.

Placing the shoe back into the box, you put the lid on it and began to gather your things.

You were going to say goodbye to Hongjoong, but he was already gone.

Secret Santa day three rolled around and you weren't sure what else to expect. Your secret Santa had gotten you a stunning set of jewelry and an adorable pair of heels. You weren't sure what would be next.

When you arrived at work, you weren't surprised to see yet another gift sitting on your desk. Today's gift was in a long, flat box and it was wrapped in beautiful glittery red paper with white snowflakes printed all over it. Since it was the last day of secret Santa you decided to wait again to open your gift.

Today proved to be more difficult than the others. You kept glancing over at the present waiting for the work day to end.

Hours passed and your patience paid off. Your boss emerged from his office with a warm smile on his face.

"Alright. As everyone knows today is the last day of secret Santa. I'll start handing gifts out shortly, but first I want to remind everyone of the Christmas party that we're having tonight. It starts at 7:00 and it'll take place at a wonderful venue down the street. They have a huge room that we've rented out for this party. I hope to see you all there."

Like all the other days, you watched Taehyung open his present before you opened yours. For his last gift, you got him a diamond painting kit of Van Gogh's Starry Night. It was a fun little thing he could do during his free time, plus you knew Taehyung loved Van Gogh. After watching his reaction, you turned your attention to your own secret Santa gift.

You pulled back the decorative wrapping revealing a clothing box. You discarded the wrapping paper and opened up the box. Inside was a stunning dress in your favorite color. On top of the formal clothing was a note that read:

Meet me outside under the gazebo at 8:00. Wear all your gifts, please.

- Your Secret Santa

You pressed your lips together, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to break out onto your features. You pulled the dress from the box, getting a better look at it. The garment was medium length, not too short but not long enough to drag the floor. It was a simple dress, but stunning nonetheless. You placed it back into its box and went to chat with Taehyung before he left. You wanted to tell him that you were his secret Santa.

"Taehyung." You called.

He looked up at you with a warm smile.

"Hi, Y/n."

"I just wanted to let you know that I was your secret Santa."

A look of surprise flashed across his face.

"Really? It was you?"

"Mhm." You nodded.

He pulled you into a tight hug. "Thank you. Everything was perfect, especially the matching shirts for me and Tannie."

"I'm really glad you liked it."

He pulled away and ruffled your hair slightly. "I'm gonna head home now. I'll see you at the party tonight."

"See ya." You waved, heading back to your station to pack up.

To your surprise, Hongjoong was standing by your work area waiting for you when you turned around.

"Hey, Y/n." He greeted you.

"Hi, Hongjoong."

"I was wondering if you wanted to walk out together."

"Oh, sure." You placed your bag onto your shoulder and walked out with him.

"Are you coming to the Christmas party tonight?" He asked.

"I am. Are you?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "I'm excited."

"Me too." You smiled, trying to hide your elation.

Hongjoong walked you to your car and bid you goodbye, saying that he would see you at the party.

You arrived at the venue just before 7:00. The building was decked out in bright Christmas lights, wreaths were hung on the windows giving the place a warm and festive feel. Upon entering the building you heard Christmas music being played, accompanied by the low murmur of partygoers chatting.

Your hair was styled perfectly and your makeup was done with a festive theme in mind. You also donned all of the gifts from your secret Santa. The dress, surprisingly, fit you perfectly, as did the shoes. Whoever got them for you knew exactly what they were doing.

You hadn't really considered who your secret Santa could be. You were just so giddy about your anonymous gift giver wanting to meet, you didn't really think about it.

You first stopped at the food and refreshments table to get yourself a glass of punch. You then made your way around the room greeting your coworkers and even danced with Taehyung for a bit. Before you knew it, it was 8:00. Your heart jumped when you glanced at the clock.

It was time to meet your secret Santa.

You made your way to one of the side doors and stepped outside. A concrete landing sat just outside the door, beyond that was a stone path that led to a gazebo. You could see someone standing there, but you were too far away to know who it was. Stepping across the stone path you moved closer to the gazebo, the quiet gasp leaving you when you saw who it was.

"Hongjoong?"

He turned around with a grin on his face.

You had to stop for a moment because he looks so handsome. His hair looked beautiful as always. His bangs were styled in a side part and pushed away from his face, showing off his perfect brows and sharp eyes. His outfit was pristine and high-end. He sported a very nice suit with a large, extravagant fur coat. It was typical Hongjoong attire.

"I'm glad I got your measurements right." He spoke, eyeing your dress.

"You made this?"

"I did."

"You're my secret Santa?"

"I am." He nodded with a shy smile.

You couldn't believe it. Out of all the people that could've been your secret Santa it was your crush.

"Everything you got me was so beautiful." You told him. "It was all perfect."

"I'm glad you liked it. I went a little over the price limit, but like I said, I don't like following rules." He smirked.

His hand extended to you, his rings glimmering under the fairly lights strung up. You took hold, allowing him to lead you all the way under the gazebo.

"This is... really romantic." You commented.

"Good."

His answer surprised you a bit.

He meant for it to be romantic?

"I'm sure you're wondering why I wanted you to wear the things I gifted you." He spoke up.

"Sort of."

"I began planning this the day our boss made the announcement for secret Santa. The jewelry, the shoes, the dress, and meeting up with you right here tonight."

"Why would you plan something so wonderful like this for me?"

"Because I like you, Y/n."

"I'm sorry? Did I hear you correctly?" You asked in disbelief.

"You did." He chuckled. "I've liked you for so long, but I wasn't sure you felt the same. That is until I caught you staring at me from across the room... more than once."

You face dropped, your cheeks becoming hot.

"You have?"

"Yes, and I find it adorable. I find you adorable." He emphasized.

"You do?"

He nodded.

All you could do was stare in disbelief, unable to comprehend what in the world was happening.

Hongjoong's sparkly eyes darted down to your lips before he started leaning in, causing your breathing to quicken. His lips came to a stop just centimeters from yours.

"Look up." He whispered, his minty breath fanning against your cheeks.

You did as he said and glanced above you to see a mistletoe hanging from the wooden beams of the gazebo.

"Oh." Was all you could say as you turned your gaze back to Hongjoong.

He wasted no time closing the gap between your mouths, pressing his lips against yours firmly. His hands found their way to your waist running up and down your sides before his arms slid their way around you, tugging you closer to him. Your hands trailed up to his hair, your fingers playing with the long strands of his mullet, carding your fingers through it.

A hum of satisfaction from Hongjoong vibrated against your lips as his head tilted to the side, deepening the kiss.

It was a little cold outside, but with the steamy kiss you were sharing with Hongjoong, you weren't able to feel the frigid chill in the air. In fact, your whole body was getting warmer by the second.

After parting ways Hongjoong let out a chuckle. "That was so worth it."

"What?" You giggled.

"Hanging up that mistletoe." He answered. "It took me forever to get it up there, but all that hard work paid off."

"Yes it did." You agreed.

He looked at you with a fond expression, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from your face.

"Merry Christmas, Y/n."

"Merry Christmas, Hongjoong."

"Should we go back inside and join the party? Sounds like they're playing some good music."

"Let's do it."

Seonghwa ❄︎ Yunho ❄︎ Yeosang ❄︎ San ❄︎ Mingi ❄︎ Wooyoung ❄︎ Jongho

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

#ateez imagines #hongjoong #kim hongjoong #choi san #jeong yunho #yunho #jung wooyoung #wooyoung #kang yeosang #yeosang #mingi #song mingi #park seonghwa #seonghwa #choi jongho #jongho #ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader

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doodleswithangie · 1 year

Text

teen reddie doodles based on my '90s designs

[Image description: A collection of fanart doodles featuring Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak from the "It" movies as teenagers in the '90s. Richie wears an oversized MTV t-shirt, ripped denim jeans, Converse, and plaid button up tied around his waist. Eddie wears a denim jacket, navy polo with colored stripes at the bottom, denim jeans held up with a belt, tube socks, and chunky sneakers. Alt text provided for each image and copied below the cut. End ID]

Copied Alt Text:

Image one: A collection of fanart doodles featuring Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak from the "It" movies as '90s teenagers.

Image two: Both sat on the floor, Richie leans back against Eddie's folded legs. Holding Richie's glasses in his hand, Eddie says, "Do you ever clean these? They're so smudged!" Richie replies, "Why bother? You do it for me!"

Image three: Eddie shrugs on a denim jean jacket. He says, "Beep beep, Rich- you know this was my dad's jacket." From off-screen, Richie responds, "Yeah, yeah…"

Image four: Richie and Eddie pose with their faces pressed cheek to cheek and tongues stuck out, flipping off the camera.

Image five: Richie wears a high school letterman jacket stitched with the name "Eddie." Eddie wears a leather jacket. They glance shyly at each other. It is captioned, (Jacket Swap).

Image six: Chibi heads of Richie and Eddie. It is captioned, "R + E."

End Copied Alt Text

#it #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it 2017 #it 2019 #it chapter 2 #it movie #artists on tumblr #digital art #doodleswithangie #varied the art style with each one just because #definitely want to go back and do more of the whole gang (and finish up this little minicomic)

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bakubunny · 3 months

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I'm here to beg for daddy fumi hcs 😵‍💫

-Jasmina🌸

okay so i said i’d share smth but like honestly i feel like i’m repeating myself at this point so i hope you enjoy anyways. thx love!

i said this before but fumi likes frilly dresses. and chunky mary jane shoes with buckles. and pretty socks. and allllll of the little garb you can conjure up. more specifically, he likes to be the one to dress you up because it’s another show of how needy and good you are for him.

fumi doesn’t mind and even enjoys half or fully clothed sex because he can still see how sweet you look in that little dress and cute shoes if he doesn’t take them off. bonus points if he gets to rip through those pretty little tights or panties.

he’s got that soft yet firm voice down to a science. he knows how to teach and guide you. redirects gently most of the time unless you need more.

fumi is definitely the kind of dom who has to do no more than lift your chin and give you a look to redirect you, but he’ll often say something anyways. “princess…. try again, little one. show daddy the good girl i know and love.”

he loves it when you ask for something instead of bratting; doe eyes and a sweet tone of voice are an instant turn on. he won’t let you get away with things you shouldn’t, but good behavior from sweet little girls is almost always rewarded.

furthermore, he loves it when you talk around your hand or whatever’s in your mouth. i’ll let you decide why, but i think there’s more than one reason.

saying it again: he’s got a wall display of impact tools and ropes in various lengths, colors, types. while he does like paddles, he’s got a good collection of floggers, leather straps, canes, switches, non traditional implements, whips…. some of them match his aesthetic (dark and finely crafted), but he’ll let you get something pretty you like every now and then for him to use on you.

he’s arguably the most patient dom around. if you win an argument, it’s because he allows it and not because he’s given in. do with that information what you will.

fumi buckles you in the car, ties your shoes if they come undone, fixes your hat when it’s cold out, etc. generally big on casual dominance and doing things for you.

fumi cooing sweet words while dark shadow talks about how they both really feel…. dark shadow is the one who perhaps encourages fumi’s “mean”/rough side to come out.

“daddy loves you, angel…. you’re so pretty like this, all for me….” while he’s wrecking your shit. and i’ll leave it at that.

eta: he loves begging. encourages it.

age play. and cute pull ups. and sippies. i’m stopping while i’m ahead. but he loves how innocent you look.

he’s that dom who takes you to a local dungeon. and everyone watches his work. no i will not elaborate at this time. >.<

@heartofjasmina

#this is a brain dump and mostly unfliltered so keep that in mind #x reader #tokoyami fumikage #fumikage tokoyami #aged up characters #tw daddy kink #tw age play #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha smut #mha smut #bakubunny

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tranquil-ivy · 14 days

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Leon’s wife is the type of wife to pick at her husbands face and back all day. He’d be watching TV in the living room and suddenly she’s sitting on his lap plucking his eyebrows because she’s bored. All while he complains that it hurts. (That man was been beat to death yet can’t even sit still while getting his eyebrows plucked. 🙄)

Or she’d make him do some stupid silly skincare. He’d get a silly headband to push his hair back of course, he’d just be half asleep as she gently spread the clay mask across his face.

Violet and Lia would probably mess around with his face too. They’d drag him over to Violet’s room and make him go to their “Salon.” A place where they literally torture him with girly things.

They’d put his hair up in little pigtails, probably beat his face to the gods too. He’d come out of Violets room looking like a pretty princess. His left eye filled with dark colored eyeshadow from Violet and his right with pretty colors and pastels.

- Anon! 🎀

Suggestive Moment Below Cut

No literally she'd be an absolute menace with grooming him. He has no idea why she loves it so much.

"Ow!" He flinches as you rip another long hair from his brow.

"Oh it doesn't hurt that bad you big baby." His grip on your waist tightening as you lean back to assess your work so far, not wanting you to fall back and crack your head on the coffee table like last time.

"You're not the one having hair ripped o- ow! I thought I married a scientist not a beautician..." He huffs as you giggle at his pain, putting the tweezers back into the small brow kit on your lap.

"I'm a woman of many talents." You reach in pulling out the brow scissors, grabbing your wrist he stares at them.

"What are these for?"

"To shape, relax I'm not gonna cut your eyebrow off." He stares, raising his freshly plucked brow, you sigh. Leaning into his ear to whisper.

"If you let me use the scissors I'll let you do that thing you like." Your tone is teasing, his head turns to you.

"As long as I want?"

"Mmhm, and I won't even complain." He lets go of your wrist immediately, leaning back like he's in a professional chair ready for someone to do their worst to him. You smirk, going to shape his brows. His arms pull you closer as he watches you work through slightly cracked eyes.

"For the record, I like when you complain. Makes me know I'm doing it right." You flick him in the chin making him chuckle as you continue to work carefully.

You sit back, nodding to yourself.

"Oooh, we have twins!" You gasp staring at him.

"What! What!?" Your voice is barely above a whisper as you lean back in.

"You have grays in your beard..." You immediately reach for the tweezers, he pushes them onto the couch.

"No! It's bedtime!" Standing up, he lifts you into his arms, making his way towards the stairs.

As for the mask thing I personally think Leon has sensory issues when it comes to stuff on his face, when clay is chunky it makes him think of... the past.

But I could see him being okay with those sheet or charcoal masks that peel. But you'd always fight him on doing the peeling because let's be real it's gross but super satisfying. An it's always funny watching him cringe at how nasty his pores were.

Putting the little creams on him after is his favorite part! Because that means you use a jade roller over his face. He loves that thing. Wishes they came in the size of a paint roller for his back. Every time that little roller touches his face he melts. He'd almost be purring it feels so good to him.

Not only is he getting to do a routine with his adorable wife but that damn roller nearly makes him fall asleep standing up at their his and hers sinks. You'd kiss his chin once he's nice and clean, pull off the cute little tabby cat headband off his head.

"We're done?" He looks so sad. But you always end up having him cuddled up to your side by the end of the night, using a wooden rolling hand massager on his back. He'd be out like a light, snoring away in 20 minutes tops.

But the skincare routine definitely started after his girls loved playing salon with him (not mommy because daddy always listens to the kid gossip and gives the best feedback)

Violet's talking about her 2 friends arguing over who gets to play with her at recess or sit with her at lunch while putting his hair up in tons of tiny pigtails with different colored hair ties. All while Lia would be just clipping on any little beret or cute clip she could find from her collection to his bangs.

Leon would walk out of there and into the kitchen while you're doing the dishes. You look at him and grin.

"Rough day Leona?" You joke, making him groan as you laugh. "You look like that doll from the Rugrats if she got into a fist fight."

"The girls thought I looked beautiful!"

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon s kennedy #🏡 domestic life with leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #🌿 ivy writes #🌿 ivy replies

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g-xix · 9 months

Text

20 vs 1 | Tobi Brown

Now TRY tell me Tobi blessed Brown isn't absolutely fine... Exactly! We don't lie here, and you can't say Tobi isn't 100% gorgeous. That's why we get a Tobi oneshot today 😎 Quick pose for the camera? Go on girl:

Killin it babe. Extra bit of media for what the character looks like + wore (bc i love seeing those things on ff's):

Anyways, go on and enjoy the story lovelies

-------

"Hey, how you doing?" I asked the guy as I walked into shot.

I had been invited by my friends, Kon, Kirsty and Charlie, to join in on one of a YouTube video by a group group whom they was friends with. The only information I had been issued was that I had to walk into shot, say hi, have a short conversation, be accepted of declined to a date and then if I was accepted I would get the opportunity to decline, before going on a date.

Now, I was in the shot talking with the said person who I might have to date.

My heart beat a little faster as I walked into the plain white set, containing nothing but a vast array of cameras and mics all wired and facing myself... and a man stood in the middle.

As I approached him, his eyes met mine with a simper from myself as I felt my heart flutter. He had dark eyes, though they were warmed by the smile he wore on his face. I broke eye contact to look at his outfit- mentally commending the matching silver rings and necklace he wore, also appreciating the way his clothes complemented him- his white shirt highlighting the muscle definition in his arms. I looked back up to see his eyebrow quirk with a grin, clearly having spotted me checking him out.

"Hey, I'm Erin and I'm 23." I spoke quietly, his eyes drawing me in more than the cameras- soothing me and telling me I didn't need to worry about all the eyes on us.

"Lovely to meet you, Erin." He grinned as learnt forwards, offering a hand. I slipped mine into his, expecting a simple hand shake, though I was surprised as he leant down to press a kiss to my hand, maintaining eye contact as he pressed his lips to my hand before taking a step closer to me as he came back up.

I felt a blush rising to my cheeks as I looked away, not wanting him to see the effect he had on me. "Erin- it just has to be a yes." He let my hand fall as he accepted, giving a nod before I walked off.

As I walked off I turned around to look at the guy once more, seeing that he too had turned around to glance at me. I giggled as my eyes made contact with his own, before speeding my walk into the changing room to find Zara with a squeal.

"How did it go?" Zara asked, linking hands with me and smiling as I jumped in excitement.

"It went really amazing! The guy... I didn't actually get his name, but he was... he was fit as hell, Zara." I smiled at the thought of our interaction.

"Really?" Zara asked. "All he said to me was a 'hi' and 'sure'."

"Oh, I mean, we didn't speak much more, he just said hi and a yeah too, but he was just so... I can't even explain it, attractive."

"Damn, I didn't even get a second glance after he accepted." Zara grumbled. I blushed, thinking back to the look we shared as I exited the set.

"Alright, everyone been accepted or passed?" Kirsty (one of the camera crew) popped her head around the door and questioned. Everyone nodded or replied a yes.

We then walked out depending on whether we liked Tobi or not, before sitting back-set once more and waiting for our date with him.

"Erin?" My head jolted upwards as I heard Kirsty say my name, beckoning me out for my date with Tobi.

"Do I look alright, Kirsty?" I questioned, straightening my clothes in an attempt to look good. I'd gone simple, with an oversized tee-shirt which covered most of my ripped black shorts, leaving my fishnets and chunky boots on my lower half- though I now began underestimating my outfit, the pressure of seeing him again causing me to overthink every minute detail.

"Shut up Erin, you look fit- and anyways- he's already accepted you for how you look so you can't look that bad." Kirsty rolled her eyes jokingly, her humour loosening my nerves slightly. "Alright, step through there and take a seat on the left. Tobi will be with you in a sec."

I took one of the two desolate seats in the middle of the room before I sat, staring at the large mirror on one of the walls. There had to be people behind that. Kon had told me before the shoot that the boys would be watching the date, hence I assumed they'd be behind there.

Kon had also issued a warning previously not to expect a normal date, which slightly worried me as I fidgeted with my fingers and sat in the chair, waiting for my date.

The sound of shoes hitting the floor woke me form my trance, causing my head to jolt upwards a smile to grace my face as I saw the familiar Tobi walk towards me, a grin slapped onto his face and his arms outstretched for a hug.

Dear God I was nervous for this date...

I picked myself up from my seat and beamed at Tobi, responding with a little 'hi!' as I reached up to sling my arms around his neck, whilst he hugged around my waist.

I sat down on my seat and began the date, making small talk and finding myself blushing every so often as he complemented me or started planning out our "next date", but also became slightly confused when he took off his bandana every few minutes claiming he was getting a bit of a headache- only for there to be another one underneath.

It was like a clown car- just when you think that the last bandana is off- there's another yet to come off.

A few bandanas down, he offered the black and white one to me, saying it 'matched my outfit', before I took upon his offer and allowed him to gently pull my hair back and knot it as an accessory behind my head. He didn't hesitate to call it cute from behind, before he turned to face me in front, Kon cutting off our date by saying it had been more than ten minutes- to which Tobi let out a groan in disappointment, bidding farewell before kissing me on the cheek and exiting- leaving me covering my face to hide the bright red blush that bloomed across my face as I sat in the chair, waiting for the final interview.

"How'd that date go then?" Kon interviewed.

"I thought it went really well- Tobi's really cute and I think he's really funny ... I thought it was a pretty fun date and with a nice guy too." I replied, trying not to gush over him. That was what I would do when I found Zara behind the set.

"Would you go on a date with him again?" Kon asked, smirking from behind the camera and giving me a knowing look which left me wondering whether he'd invited me onto the shoot to try and set me up with Tobi, today...

"Easily a yes." I giggled. "I mean- we already talked about what we'd do on other dates we have, and I've got his bandana which I think I'll have to return on another date." Looking down the lens of one of the cameras I smiled and mouthed 'call me', shaking my hand in the shape of a phone.

No sooner had I made that gesture, did I hear muffled screams from behind the mirror, causing me to laugh lightly before beginning to leave the set as Kon had gestured- though I was stopped as Tobi burst out of one of the doors behind the set, jogging up to me before smiling and grabbing my hand.

"Another date?" He questioned, panting slightly- seemingly having ran to get to the studio.

"Mhm, for sure!" I responded, unable to wipe the grin off my face.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, tapping on it for a few moments before holding the phone out for me, gesturing for me to type my phone number out, under the contact name Erin 💗🫠

"I'll see you again soon, Erin." Tobi smirked, enjoying a short hug before walking away- myself blowing a kiss at him before laughing as he did the infamous Garfield heel-click as he walked off.

Who knew that the Sidemen studio would be a place to find love...

-----------------------

Hope you enjoyed and to anyone that got this far into the story Thank you!!

I know this is unrelated and not something any readers are really obligated to care about, but my guinea pig passed away earlier today. Really gutted tbh and it feels like the end of a really great era, as I've had guinea pigs for the last 4 years but from today, I don't have any guineas. Praying and hoping Jordie passed away in peace and is happy in a better place now. Can't make anyone pray the same, but if you could just think of Jordie with some love for a moment I'd really appreciate that. God bless little Jordie and thank you to anyone that's shown some love🤍

#tobi brown #tobjizzle #sidemen #sidemen sunday #ksi #jj olatunji #simon minter #harry lewis #wroetoshaw #miniminter #zerkaa #behzinga #youtube #youtuber #tobi brown x reader #tobjizzle x reader #oneshot #fluff

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marimayscarlett · 3 months

Note

Current fugure Richard.. I don't want to call him chubby because he's not, he just lost muscle mass and got rounder midsection.. anyway, he has absolutely no idea how hot his current body is.

Sure, he was absolutely stunning when he was ripped, but this so called dad bod.. unreal! Unreal!! It's such a fucking turn on when men, especially his age, look like that. Can you imagine sitting and bouncing on top of that? Jfc!!!

He is fit as fuck and everyone else is wrong! YOU HEAR ME KRUSPE? FIT AS FUCK!!!

Hi 😌

I really swear, even if it seems like it, I did not ghostwrite this post.... It would be futile to try to describe how much Richard is my type in his current state - I can hardly put into words how incredibly attractive his slightly more chunky physique is to me, and apparently some other people, too 👀 And he has offered us so many impecable looks in the past few years!

Such a transformation from a boyfriend material/90's dream boy:

to a well-trained dream of a silver god guitarist:

to a freaking vampire (I'm fine, I'm fine, it's not like this era is a fantasy come true to me, nope):

to an absolute picture book rockstar who is not afraid to flaunt his...all, actually:

to his current look, a little more on the ribs, wonderful voluptuous curves and yet incredibly masculine. While others may not relate to this sentiment, for me this is an absolute dream. I can't even describe it, he just looks so... kneadable, cuddly, yet so manly? Man, I don't even know:

He may not be as ripped anymore, and this is a good thing. Richard is pushing 60, it's only natural that his physique is undergoing changes. And yet he looks so incredibly attractive! I think there's also a lot of self-confidence involved and how he carries himself, to have this mesmerizing effect on us 😌 Regarding the 'fit' part: I think it's safe to say that Richard is still keeping fit with sport, yoga and similar activities, since for example going to the gym or running seems to be a vital part of his daily routine - at least he mentioned it in some interviews a few years ago (for example here and here).

Here I've answered another ask a while ago with a little closer look at Richard's 'evolution':

So in conclusion, me looking at Richard at all times, but especially in this current era:

#rammstein #richard kruspe #ask #yet another thirsty ask and thirsty answer on my blog. shocking #he really IS unreal #btw yes i do love pulp fiction and use every chance i get to insert some gifs of it somewhere

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just--some--prompts · 5 months

Text

Sentence/Conversation Starters:

Random things my friends and I have said over the years on Discord

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

✦ — Person A: “Something on my face?” Person B: “Yeah it's called being too handsome, now stop it.”

✧ — "Two cups of chicken broth, two cups of heavy cream, and then add the lego's–"

✦ — Person A: -makes struggling noises- Person B: "Are you ok?" Person A: "Nope" Person B: "Ok then"

✧ — "Don't shoot me! I'm pleasantly thick!"

✦ — "You’re starting another cult. You bitch."

✧ — Person A: "I’m allergic to honey because I’m allergic to beeeeeeees." Person B: "That's… not how it works?"

✦ — "You were here, you were our side hoe!"

✧ — "The hetero's are upsetero."

✦ — "Why does he not have clothes!?"

✧ — Person A: "We're not clean in the eyes of God." Persona B: "You're not clean in the eyes of your bathtub. How can you be clean in the eyes of God?"

✦ — "Consent is hot when you're fucking my life"

✧ — Person A: "You tire me" Person B: "Then go to bed"

✦ — "You were so far in the closet you were finding Christmas presents from 4 years ago!"

✧ — "I want... to put a pop-tart in his mouth. Do you like smores'?"

✦ — "Life of crime? Naw. Life of shaking ass? Sure."

✧ — Person B: "You're the opposite of a friendly boy." Person A: "What's the opposite of a friendly boy?" Person B: "A bitch."

✦ — -takes a fighting stance- “I'm ready to bite yo ass"

✧ — "People not talking to me? Ideal."

✦ — "You are all a burden upon my shoulders"

✧ — Person C: “Ima eat yo fucking al dente ass ligaments u Italian deviant” Person B: “You're welcome to. End my meat lineage.”

✦ — "Lol, simping for some sleep"

✧ — "Cucked for a soft pillow"

✦ — "Get cucked consciousness"

✧ — Person A: -struggles to breathe- Person B: "Breathe" Person A: "Who needs air?" Person B: "You need air to survive." Person A: "Debatable…" Person B: ".......shut up"

✦ — "I like my men like I like my food... Genetically modified."

✧ — “Bitch, you got crabs?”

✦ — Person A: “Suc-Fuck you!” Person B: “You were gonna say suck.” Person C: “You were gonna say suck,” -Person C leans in closer- “that’s kinda gay bro.”

✧ — Person A: "So what are y’all talkin about?" Person B: "Uh... we were talking about gender reveals but with spaghetti"

✦ — "It's a millennial thing innit? Eatin' ass?"

✧ — "I'd stuff my face with you."

✦ — “Screams in slut, what!?”

✧ — Persona A: “I’m not mad.” Person B: “Don’t lie.” Person A: “Shut your whore mouth!”

✦ — -hands slam down on table- "They’ve had sex together!!!!"

✧ — "Rip in shit, binch. Sloshed and forgotten."

✦ — “This is how I die. Tell people it was something cool and not spicy egg salad.”

✧ — Person B: "You don't eat your phalanges [Person A]. Rookie mistake."

✦ — "When the Campbell's chunky take chunk out of you."

✧ — "Excuse me, Ma'am, can you put down a wet floor sign? You're a bit of a hazard."

✦ — "My gamer arthritis is making it hard for me to hold my wife's hand"

✧ — "Is this roller camping? .............I'm gonna fuck your mom."

✦ — Person A: "I struggle with his emotions–" Person C: "So does he."

✧ — "I thought by ‘squirt’ you meant that the clowns had venom sacks."

✦ — "We learned our lesson, don't convert–"

✧ — "You fed me eggs, now the government can track my location!!!"

✦ — Person C: "Anyway, back to the topic at hand–" Person B: "God, I wish his throat was under my hand–what?"

#sentence starters #sentence prompts #rp starter #rp sentence starters #rp sentence meme #dialog prompts #conversation prompt #crack prompt #fluff prompts #spicy prompts #my sentence starters #personal post

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eezeybreezy · 11 months

Text

ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴜɴᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴀᴛ ➜ʜᴏʙɪᴇ ʙʀᴏᴡɴ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

I have fallen to the Hobie brain rot and this is the result. This was a lot longer than intended so now it's broken into multiple chapters! Lmk if I should post those too or if this is too cringe. Part 2, Part 3, Part 4🔞

warnings: suggestive, not-so-accurate accent, recreational drug/alcohol use, partying, punk shit, eventual smut?

As they entered the headquarters, the pair were met with a cacophony of sound and movement. People in spider suits and uniforms hurried to and fro, carrying files, and talking urgently on their phones or to each other. Clearly, this was a place of importance, filled with sensitive work and decisions.

The first was a young woman, her hair pulled back into a high ponytail and dressed in a long, flowing maxi skirt in earthy tones, paired with a crochet top. Adorned with beads or other natural details, she walked confidently, looking around with a sharp eye and taking in every detail. The second was a young man, his steps a little slower and his gaze mellow. He was dressed in a concoction of ripped fabrics, belts, and buttons, his studded vest and chunky boots a signature in the halls they walked.

"Wow," breathed the woman, taking in the bustling scene. "I knew this was a big deal, but I had no idea.."

The man chuckled. "Told you it was the real deal."

The Spider you’d come to know was none other than Hobie Brown, a stand-out among his peers and variants alike. You’d only met after being rounded up as an anomaly, though you’d come to the HQ willingly, as any means to getting home was better than being stranded in some uppity renaissance dimension. After learning of your role as the Black Cat in your world, the punk had found a new friend in an unexpected place.

“Hm…” Hobie peered at you absentmindedly, seemingly turning something over in his head.

You didn’t like that look, and knowing the kinds of ideas an anarchist could come up with, you decide to pry, “What’s up?”

Hobie finally looked at you and not through you, “How did you get those abilities bruv like, I was bit by a radioactive spider so I have spider DNA in me, but how’d you get ‘em?”

“Hear me out, a cat bit me. But she wasn’t radioactive or anything, actually quite sweet.”

“Wait wait wait, you ‘ere bitten… by a cat? And you now have abilities like me??”

You giggled at this, he’s dumbfounded over a cat but a radioactive spider giving powers is the norm around here. “I don’t know about ‘like you’ per say.’

“Aight, maybe not exactly like me, but it’s similar yeah? You have wall-crawling abilities I presume or am I wrong? And probably enhanced strength?”

Why the sudden interest in my abilities, you thought. “I mean I do have enhanced strength and speed, but I can only climb up walls with my claws, I don’t stick like you all do,” referring to the bustling crowd of Spider-people you found yourself in the presence of.

“I see, then I have one last question… What does your suit look like? I’m proper curious ‘bout that.”

Now this was unexpected, not only was he interested in your powers, but your alter ego altogether. In the few months, you’ve been friends, little was spoken about your homeworld, let alone the role you play in that dimension. You wonder what’s gotten him so interested, and so you decide to tease a little, getting Hobie Brown flustered was something very few could boast.

“You ever been to a BDSM club? It’s like a leather dominatrix suit

“…” “That’s… huh.”

“Problem ‘Obie?” You poke at him playfully, gliding to stand closer to the slender man.

“Not at all… can’t say I’m not confused though…” he trailed off. “But hey, as your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man it’s not my problem that you have an… um… interesting taste in fashion.”

That got a snort out of you, “You’re one to talk about ‘interesting taste in fashion’, Mr. Spider Punk.”

A sigh comes from the taller man. “Fine. You win.”

Deciding to toy with him further, you play nonchalant and petty, “If I’m so annoying I’ll just leave then. I enjoyed meeting you Punk.”

“Oi oi, I didn’t mean to insult you, I swear… I'll be 'onest wiv ya, mate. I don't really know what I'm doin' 'ere. I'm just takin' it one day at a time and seein' where it takes me.” He looked up from the ground to look at you again, something sad in his eyes. “Life's a funny old game, ain't it?"

“The rockstar runway model is bad with people? Color me shocked”

Hobie let out a huff of air, which you could only assume mimicked a laugh, “Is that meant to be an insult or genuine criticism?”

“I was being serious Hobie, you seem to have a good handle on people. You’re just so cool I thought maybe you’d have it down by now” Despite wanting to crawl into a hole at your admission, you said it with your chest, and you’re not about to back out now.

He’s quite surprised by this, not anticipating such a blatant compliment from you. “Huh… you’re actually pretty rad yourself. Most people don’t think that and just call me a freak.”

“I mean I’d say I’ma freak too but that hasn’t gotten me any complaints if you know what I mean.” You say with a wink, deciding to lay it on thick.

He smirks at you, catching the vibes you're putting down quickly. “Oh, I understand what you mean. I just didn’t expect you to be this forward luv.”

“What’s the phrase? ‘You miss 100% something something-”

“You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take?”

“Yeah yeah somethin like that”, you past your giggles. “You tryna get out of here?”

Hobie looks at you almost sideways, and if you didn’t know him better, you’d be put off by the glare. “Get out of here and do what exactly? What’re you planning?” He takes a step towards you, covering more ground than you’d anticipated due to his long strides. He was so close.

“I’m not dumb, I can tell you’re trying to trick me into something, but I’m not quite sure what…”

You smile at that, despite telling the truth, he’d managed to tease you in the process. We’re in the clear. “No trick here, not today at least.”

You look at him through thick lashes, “Did you have any ideas Spidey?” you ask coyly.

The punk chuckles,

“Ah, the ol’ playing coy shtick ‘uh? Not that I have anything against it, honest with you I kinda like it.”

Your tone is drenched in sarcasm, “Me? Coy? What kind of women do you take me for?” You’re feigning being offended, and he continues your banter. He laughs in a friendly way, deeply and honestly, a sound you wish was heard more often by the masses.

“Oh trust me you’re not like the other girls. You’re cool.”

“I’m not like other girls,” you say mockingly, trying to keep him amused. “So, what’s the punk down to do?”

Hobie’s face lights up with excitement, “I know just the place. Ever been to a punk rock show? There’s always tons of wankers to hang out with and it’s basically a Beano with loud ass music.”

You’d know about Spider-Man in front of you’s reputation, his subtle flex of eclectic success was something you’d come to admire about him. “I’ve had my fair share of underground events, though I’d call myself more goth than punk, you ever been to a goth club? I’m down to go to one of your shows if the anarchist is down to do some substances with me.”

He perked up at this. “Hell yeah, I’d be down, I love partying. Although, can I ask what kind of… substances you’re planning on using? I wanna make sure I bring the right shit.”

“Fuck no nothing hard, just weed and drinks will do it for me. That’s pretty stereotypical punk shit tho huh?”

“Yeah, well stereotypes exist for a reason. Though the whole ‘punks are stoners’ stereotype always bothers me, I never got why people think punk = drug abuse…” He shrugs.

The hair feels heavier, don’t kill the mood now! “ Well I do love me some weed, and hell yeah it’d be great to drink with you and have fun.” You keep going, hoping to bring that light back to the spider that was there but a moment ago. “I think the whole stereotype thing is stupid, but I totally understand why it doesn’t make sense to you, hating labels and all that.” You punctuate the end of your sentence with a punch to his shoulder.

“Alright, lead the way ‘Obie!”

He chuckles a bit at that, and playfully shoves you back into the portal he’s opened. You always land on your feet as you enter his dimension with a thud. He’s crouched next to you, standing to take off his mask and tuck his suit away.

“What was that for huh? I know you can punch ‘arder than that.”

He closes the portal and starts walking towards the club, throwing you a glance over his shoulder. He beckons you to follow. “It’s just up this way, hopefully, there won’t be too big of a crowd.” His guard is down now, it’s just you and Hobie Brown, not Spider-Punk and Black Cat, just two “civs” kickin it.

“If you’re down to spar I can show you more than a little punch Bee.” You send a wink at Hobie, hoping the new nickname didn’t make him uncomfortable. “And hey! I thought you were a celebrity, don’t get special treatment even in the underground huh?”

Hobie smirks at that, “Hah. You’re funny.” He peers down at you, despite your above-average stature. “So you wanna spar then? Because now I’m very tempted to see what you can do.” He’s being cheeky, you can hear it in his tone.

Oh, this man was dangerous, and you can’t help the sly smile that makes its way to your face. “Oh, I’d love to show you everything I can do.” You’re sultry now, biting your lip as you gaze up at him.

“Damn, you’re a cocky little cat huh?” He shakes his head laughing, but can’t hide the big smirk forming on his face.

“Don’t think I won’t accept your challenge, because I will…”

“Oh? Is that so? What’s the punk challenging me to do exactly?” You step closer, still looking up at the man, with a smug grin on your face.

“Oh, I think you know…” He smirks at you and steps closer. “Or should I remind you?”

You grab him by his guitar strap, pulling him down until your lips almost touch. “It must’ve slipped my mind, Bert.” You emphasize his name teasingly.

Despite the way your eyelids flutter shut, and how your lips seem to draw each other in, he chuckles and gives you a quick kiss on the lips, still very clearly smug.

“I’m glad I could remind you.”

#hobie brown #hobie x reader #atsv hobie #hobie x you #spider punk #across the spiderverse #atsp spoilers

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