#second star saviour | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

obriengf · 2 years ago

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My Beloved || Thomas x Reader

Summary: Thomas is filled with emotion as you both seek out a way to show just how much love you truly hold for one another. Words: 7.5k Warnings: SMUT18+!!!, loss of virginity, masturbation, p in v, this is honestly very fluffy and sweet okay Notes: okay so... this started off good then towards the end i got desperate to finish it and it turns rushed i think?????? a little bad??????? anyway, these guys would have NO idea about sex ed tbh just what they’ve learnt from each other... because i feel like WCKD had better things to do, like brainwashing everyone, instead of teaching kids about the birds and the bees. long story short just go with it and no judging on my smut please i dont write it often!!!

There’s a boy, and he’s so beautiful it hurts.

Among the fiery glow of the bonfire flames, his eyes luminate with golden specks - so bright, so mesmerising, that you cannot stop staring from beyond the heated curtain. You catch his gaze and the way his smile quirks upward, bashfulness flushing his cheeks and provoking his teeth to sink sinfully into the plusness of his lip. It brings a warmth to your chest - a sensation of adoration, burning hotter than the flames separating you both. It travels to your fingers with an itch that wants you to jump to the boy, embrace him, kiss him, love him. He had been everyone’s saviour, but to you, he saved more than just your life; he brought colour back to your dull days, allowing you to see the vibrancy that radiated with pure intentions from your daily sunlight. He returned hope to your anxious mind and settled the prior need to look over your shoulder for danger every spare second. He made you feel so incredibly loved to the point where you stopped breathing and your heart would swell with anticipating warmth. There’s a boy, and he’s so perfect it hurts, in the most breathtaking way.

Thomas could feel you staring. He revelled in the way that your eyes sparkled, and how you looked at him as if he put the stars in the sky. He was still getting used to others viewing him as their paladin, but you were different - it was much simpler, housing purity and sincere devotion, seeing the boy as your ending. You fell in love in the wrong place at the wrong time, surrounded by chaos and imminent peril, but the clawing need to stay by the other’s side brought you both to your much-deserved salvation; and better yet, into the forever hold of each other’s arms.

The boy couldn’t understand his emotions as they intensified, but he knew that it was longing. He knew that they yearned for you. He didn’t have the time or space to stop and consider how his body was growing and reacting to being around your own, the desperation to run and hide and fight had eventually become all that he could think about - until it was all over, and you were all safe. Now, those feelings returned and his thoughts drifted to how your kiss has started to ignite something in his gut, and how it spread through his veins to the point where he wanted to dig his fingers into your flesh and never let go.

It was a topic of conversation that he had previously brought up through loose lips and in between inebriated breaths; Minho on the receiving end with a bit more sobriety, but he was still dazed as he listened with widened eyes and unsplit attention. It was near comic how Thomas had him on the edge of his seat - he couldn’t put into words just how he was feeling, but his friend could see the depth behind the amazed look that glassed over whisky hues and how a curt smile perked at his lips. Minho very much understood that desiring need, the way complete and utter endearment could make a person feel like they were floating effortlessly on cloud nine. Thomas was the first person he went to when he was ready to take that step further with the sweet girl from the kitchens - and now it had turned full circle, and Minho had never been happier that love had struck his closest friends.

The flames began to die, juxtaposed to the rising moon that now bathed the Safe Haven in beautiful luminescence. Thomas could see you much clearer now, and it made your stomach flutter at how fervently he appeared. You found yourself growing more heated the further you allowed yourself to fall for the brunette boy; your eyes lingering that little bit longer, the need to nestle into the side of his body growing stronger, and your heart rapidly reverberating in your chest just that much harder. It was as if every nerve was ablaze with want, and it was such an unfamiliar sensation that you were starting to feel nauseous. And you didn’t want it to end.

It wasn’t long before Thomas stood, dusting at his covered thighs to rid the ash that sprinkled from the rising smoke. He moved slowly, almost with hesitance, but it was the bashful and budding thump from his heart that drew him toward you. Through the curtain of your lashes, you peered up at him as he stopped only a mere foot or so in front of you, his hand extended, and a chest filled with held breath that he hoped you wouldn’t notice. He was bathed in a fiery afterglow, his figure enveloped by golden flickers. You sighed dreamily.

“Want me to walk you back to your hut?” His voice was quiet, a gentle hum as it held the possibility of diffidence. He always held a sort of shyness when it came to you, especially when it allowed him to hold your hand and selfishly receive all of your undivided attention.

A rosy hue climbed your neck, speckling your cheeks with a blush that exceeded even the dancing flames of heat before you. It felt so incredibly right as your palm confidently slid over his own, granting Thomas permission to lightly grasp at your wrist and provide some strength in pulling you up. He always escorted you, these days. Part of him dreaded that if he didn’t, then something would happen to you. Whilst other parts craved the company you gave and the adoration you unforgivingly showered him in. Maybe, it was just his way of showing the supplemental gladers that surround you both that you would always leave with him, because you’re simply his.

Regardless - your hands were quick to wrap around his arm, tugging the boy close to you as you clasped your fingers with his. Bidding farewell to your friends and fellow survivors hardly took any time before Thomas was guiding you away, the path he followed so well-known by now that he swore he could travel it in his sleep. The lanterns that usually adorned your way had already died down, softened by the late night, yet complemented beautifully with the rising blanket of radiant moonlight. It would be hard for you to form words around just how contented you felt in this moment; calmed by the gentle breeze wafting from the ocean shores of the Safe Haven, and lulled when it rustled nearby palm trees in harmony with the now distant joyousness abandoned back at the bonfire.

Thomas’ thumb absentmindedly rubbed at your hand as your head dropped to his shoulder, the faint smell of burnt wood tickling your nostrils after becoming woven into the cotton of his shirt. You managed a small hum, surprising yourself when you inner thoughts left your lips with quiet notes, “Do you think it’ll stay like this forever?”

“What will stay?” He replied, his eyes briefly glancing down to you, lips curling into a slight smirk at how in thought you seemed to be.

You paused, lips pursing as you racked your brain for the right words. Everything, is what you truly wanted to say, but even then you wished that some things were different. You wished for Newt to be there with you all, and Chuck, and Winston. You had also often thought about Teresa and just how much she would have contributed to this new society. You really didn’t want everything to say the same, but some things were just simply perfect in your eyes.

“The tranquility.” You ended up with, squeezing Thomas’ forearm with your spare grasp, “The calm after the storm. Being able to take a deep breath because you know you aren’t always looking over your shoulder. Nights like this… so beautiful, merciful. Seeing our friends smile in what felt like forever. Us.”

“Us?” He questioned, peering to you again before focusing on the upcoming silhouette of your hut. Thomas laughed lightly, “We aren’t changing, not anymore. I have you and I’m keeping you forever. No take-backs, sorry sweetheart.”

A tender giggle echoed lightly in the air as it fell from your lips, prompting you to nestle even closer into Thomas’ side. He always made you feel protected, and you know from the bottom of your heart that he will also continue to until his dying breath.

You pressed your lips just under his ear, breath igniting his skin, “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

It was a force that managed to shake the walls; such harshness in comparison to the soft velvety feeling of his lips sliding against yours. Thomas’ brows furrowed slightly after forcefully kicking the door to your hut closed behind him, but it was the sweetness of your amused laughter that drew him so effortlessly back to you.

“A little eager?” The warmth of your breath fanned over his still rosy cheeks, reminding Thomas that you were so close. You watched as his lashes fluttered against his cheekbones - delicate, yet sharp - framing the doe-like brown eyes that you’ve grown to love, and beyond, and it made the boy appear so incredibly pure. He was a snowflake shining against the sun, a flower’s petals fresh as they begin to bloom, the dancing flames of a picturesque fire that you were only just admiring him through.

Thomas managed a smile through a breathless exhale, as if you were there taking his breath away with your bare hands, grabbing and keeping it as your own lifeline. He lent in, this time with closed eyes, the tip of his nose nudging against yours, and it was your turn to hitch at his whispered words, “You have no idea.”

His hands were rough. Callouses adorned them from the past year or so, memories and scars that captured how he survived and that those hands were the reason you were safe. They often trembled when he slept due to the nightmares that haunted him - the monsters that made him bleed, and the people that he watched perish before his tear-glazed eyes. Those hands carried the lives of legions of people at one point, and sometimes Thomas thinks that they are under pressure to still do so. Those hands were strong and could hold so much from so many people.

Yet, as one grasped your hip and the other cupped your cheek, they had never felt more tender. Oh - and how you desired the benign fingertips to soothe over your skin and touch you in places that have gone undiscovered by most. And if Thomas wanted to tread in those uncharted waters, there was no way that you would decline, not when you dreamt of his touch for so long.

You breathed him in once more, intoxicated by the most mundane of scents that built up who this boy came to be. The smoke was strong as it continued to linger, but the salt water that had dried on his skin and the subtle waft of dirt from his earlier exploration this morning was a concoction that on the best of days, drove you crazy, but right now you wanted nothing but to bathe yourself in it. With a small swallow of the lump in your throat, fingers grasped at the unbuttoned opening of Thomas’ henley, and you pulled him even closer than before until chests were flush and hearts beat in thumping unison.

His lips found yours again with ease, wrapping around your own and taking you as if he were a starved man. It drew a small moan to elicit from your throat and he knew that he would do anything to hear that sound again, over and over, a broken record that could both lull him to a lustful sleep and keep him awake at all hours with a curled fist and an overworked forearm. It wasn’t until his tongue slipped; dragging with deliciousness over your bottom lip, and taking refuge against your own as he licked so casually into your mouth. That’s the moment you blacked out and allowed your stance to lose all sense of muscle, becoming jelly-legged and at the mercy of Thomas’ arms wrapping further around your submissive frame.

Thomas slowly walked you both backward until your knees collided with the frame of your makeshift bed. You released a small gasp, enough to wake you from your short absence from reality, as the boy took it as his cue to lift you carefully until you were laying down against the thin sheet that you deemed as a blanket. This was the first time that he was ever situated above you - usually pulling you into his arms as you stood with friends, or tugging you down onto his lap so that he could cuddle against your back. Kisses would be shared, but they were never this hot, nor this needy, and Thomas’ breaths stopped momentarily as he took in how stupidly beautiful you looked underneath his heaving body.

He wasn’t sure what changed between you both so quickly with this new angle, but he had a sudden overwhelming sensation to kiss you with every ounce of passion he could muster, and meld himself with you until a single unit was left in your wake. He was throbbing in his head at the salacious thoughts that drowned his mind with images of you in positions seemingly compromisable. Throbbing in his heart at how emotion could so easily play such an intense role in how he never wanted to be a part from you for as long as he lived. And throbbing a little lower at how it all seemed to come together as one want, an impulse, a craving for your touch and taste and sounds that could drive a man mad in the absolute best way possible. Thomas was already halfway there.

You could feel it too in the way he was gazing over your frame - the heat that loved to submerged your body was now between your legs, and you had the itch to squirm from the slight discomfort it gave you. It was formidable once before, during a night where sleep was off the schedule, and you couldn’t stop thinking about how much you yearned for being between Thomas’ arms and held to his chest. The heat was like a heartbeat as it pulsated, and under the curtain of nightfall, you had eased the pain with your fingers and a hasty soothing rub. You remember seeing Thomas flash behind your fluttering eyelids before they settled closed, and it made you press harder, chasing after a feeling that was odd at first… but so quickly became pleasureful until you squealed his name and your chest sank from a high that pulled you up from your bed. It was euphoric, and you were quick to understand what some of the others meant when they talked about making themselves feel so good. All you wanted now was that feeling again, and Thomas to be the one to grant you such elation.

With vulnerable movements, you reached up to cup the boy’s cheek, your thumb dragging from his nose to the softened skin under his eye, teasing his lower lash line. You bit your lip at how stunning he truly was and how the subtleness of moonlight played shadows across his face. He nuzzled into your hold and placed a small kiss to the skin, the tip of his nose dragging with fragility over your palm until his lips pursed once more. You needed him closer until all you could feel was him, all you could taste and hear, too. You were aching to settle the feeling that had now reached your lower abdomen as it screamed to be soothed, to be taken care of.

“Kiss me.” You slipped, a softened whisper that Thomas almost missed until you said it again, “Kiss me, Tommy. I need you.”

You didn’t know what the words truly entailed except for how right it felt to say them - Thomas, clearly on a wavelength that matched yours with perfection, as he dropped to your lips with a smile and groan that you happily swallowed whole. Arms and legs clung to him for dear life as he slotted between your thighs, lips smacking and tongues dragging and suddenly that alluring cool night air became thick and humid. He covered your frame and slowly sank his body weight onto yours - a puzzle piece that was cut perfectly for you, embedded so sublimely against your curves and dips.

Hips clashed with harmonising force, a kind of friction that was heavily sought as it was chased. It drew a throaty groan to echo past Thomas’ lips, his brows furrowed as he tried to overcome the near pained feeling of pressure against his crotch as you absentmindedly pushed up against him. It was bittersweet torture - the kind where he knew how to relieve it, but was riddled with nervousness about sharing it with you. He sat a curled fist beside your head as his other held your hip, hoping that you wouldn’t notice how frisky your touch and taste were making the boy. Thomas was holding back every instinct to lose control over a sensation that had only ever met his right hand.

You were lost hopelessly in his lips. They held slight chappedness from the salty air, but an ever-forgiving softness that so easily held you captive and vulnerable. Whenever he kissed you, it was as if you were nothing but his - simply a figure that had fallen victim to his tender touch and enrapturing words, you wouldn’t dare move in case it burst the bubble that separated you from the outside world. It was simply an addiction and you craved it always, a constant need for Thomas, a constant need to share your love.

Absentmindedly, your ankles pulled his lower back further into you, and it was the meeting of his hardness against your heated core that ripped a sudden moan from you both as synchronised calls filled the space of your hut. You clung even further to him, your face buried in the crook of his neck among the thin sheen of sweat. It was the type of stimulation that you needed again, or else you’d stop breathing. Tentatively, your hips rose again before you gently rubbed over the pulsating hardness through the thick denim of his jeans, and you swore that stars exploded behind your eyes as you whined against his neck.

Thomas breathed out heavily, his throat thick, “Shit - shit, that feels good.”

You nodded weakly, desperation clawing at you as you pressed kisses down the column of his throat, remembering the patches of skin that made him shudder with fragility. Thomas was melting against your frame - a puddle of a boy between your limbs as he began to rock over you, slow drags until a comfortable pace was met and he could feel your fingers digging into his shoulder blades.

His senses were enamoured by you - completely and utterly taken, infatuated to no end. You were all that he could feel and it made the air thicker than he thought possible as he swallowed your panting breaths. The need came rather quickly as Thomas grasped at the back collar of his shirt, his ears perking at the small whine you let escape as he sat back on his knees to remove the obstructive piece of cotton. Your lips were still pursed and they chased him with weak effort from your sobered drunken haze, much to the boy’s admiring amusement.

With a chuckle, Thomas lent down to you, his lips ghosting over the rosy hue of your cheek before pressing gently against it. He allowed the tip of his nose to nuzzle against the soft skin before he spoke in a whispered tone, “Who’s the eager one now, hm?” A shudder travelled down your spine as warm breath danced below your ear; a sensation that was enough to rip another moan from your thumping chest, a sound so melodious that Thomas found it a hasty necessity to imprint it permanently in his mind.

You replied breathlessly, “I can’t help that you’re hot, Tommy.”

He gripped your waist after his fingers slid over the exposed skin from your hiked-up shirt with desperation to run his touch over every inch of your body. He didn’t want to push you to follow suit with the removal of your own shirt, but it didn’t stop the clench of his jaw and sudden strong grip as he held himself back from pursuing the hunger that was slowly developing within him.

You knew him, more than yourself, and how his demeanour would change, and how every emotion or action was a chapter in his book that you’ve read too many times to count. It promoted your hand to lift and squeeze at his bicep, Thomas’ eyes drifting to your widened gaze and the glint that sparkled among your coloured hues, “Take it off, it’s okay. I trust you.”

He nodded, his chest fluttering at the faith you so easily had in him. You always did - have faith in Thomas - after all, he saved your life and in turn, you saved him by providing the limitless unconditional love that he deserved. His encouragement allowed you to find yourself after being lost within such a cruel world, and he never stopped believing in you. He never would. Thomas’ fingers flexed below your ribs, the toughed skin of his fingertips dragging with savour as he pushed your shirt further up your body. As it bunched under your chest, you managed to sit up slightly, quickly tugging the shirt until it let your skin breathe free, and it was tossed somewhere presently unknown across the room. The boy’s breath suddenly hitched as eyes raked shamelessly over your now vulnerable frame. His mouth felt dry, yet he was in complete awe.

“You’ve seen me like this before.” You noted though the silence, your voice barely loud enough to break the intimate atmosphere. Your chest flushed slightly, only growing more vibrant as it reached your cheeks. You grew bashful under his doting stare, and he couldn’t help but bite his lip adoringly.

“Yeah, but…” Thomas thought back to the times where you all would swim at the beach, enough clothes to cover you, but to which still left little to the imagination. He shook his head once more, still in complete wonderment at you laying beneath him, “This is different. What I-I feel… it’s so much more than I can handle, you’re just so beautiful.”

Your hand cupped his cheek and history repeated itself with such endearment; thumb rubbing under his eye to which he turned and kissed against your palm. It was quickly becoming your thing, your couple thing, something so small but so symbolic that ran the same path as screaming from the treetops that you’re in love. It was your silent communication of forever, and always, and until the end of our dying breaths to a world if there is one beyond ours. It was a promise and a reminder - that you both were there, and you weren’t ever going to leave. You were telling him through a simple touch of your hand that you were real, and his kiss was a reply of sincere gratitude.

Thomas lent down to peck the tip of your nose, smiling widely as your face scrunched with joy. His lips were quick to attach themselves to your neck next, wanting you to feel the ecstasy that you supplied him. They trailed with a wet path - his tongue darting out against pressure points and sucking at the spots that drew groans of satisfaction from you. Your head lulled back against his bed when teeth tickled your collarbone, and it didn’t take long for you to surrender yourself completely to him. Thomas’s tongue dragged heavily down your sternum before tracing along the cups that prevented you from bareness, eyes peering through thick lashes to silently ask for permission to go further. You couldn’t dare say no… not when every ounce of sunlight and warmth sang to you through such a simple look.

You snuck a hand behind your back to unclasp the bra, suddenly releasing an unknown-held breath when the cool night air mixed with the heated moans that Thomas fanned against your chest. He swiftly reattached his lips as he relished in the new canvas for his kisses, his moistened trail continuing. You squeaked as he passed over your sensitive nipple, promoting your hand to grasp the back of his head and hold him closer to you. Thomas continued by sucking lightly before his tongue swirled in time with his hand squeezing your opposite side. He kneaded and squished the flesh tenderly, feeling his trousers tighten at the mewling sounds you made.

He swapped sides and continued whatever sweet assault he could muster to prolong your symphony of sounds. It was building inside you - the desire for more. You felt like you were ignited, but wanting to be more than a spark… you needed to be an explosion, and you needed Thomas to be the one to set you off. You wiggled as you huffed out his name, your fingers fiddling with the button of your shorts when the boy pulled aware with a raised brow.

“More… I need more. Please.” You begged, lifting your hips as Thomas helped pull the material away. He stood back by a step or two, whisky-glassed eyes absorbing your writhing body in nothing but a pair of cotton underwear and a wet patch that matched the erotic stain over his crotch. He was robotic as movements forced him to remove his own pants, the playing field even, and his cheeks redder than the Safe Haven’s sunset when you immediately ogled at the tent that was pitched under his boxer briefs.

This sort of intimacy was alike a perilous expedition - unsteady footing at first, unsure how to press forward, but leading to a bewitching and alluring adventure with such rapturous salaciousness. It continued when Thomas’ hands were placed on your thighs, rubbing cautiously against your skin before dipping in between your legs. Just knowing that he was so damn close made you whine under your breath, quiet, yet pitched enough to catch Thomas’ attention.

Your fingers moved absentmindedly as they circled the moistened patch that you created, chest swelling with a held breath. You shuddered, trying to compose yourself, voice humming with please, “I-It feels good when you rub right there…”

“Is that what you do?” He questioned, eyes wide as he took in the information, and fingers dancing hesitantly close to your core. All you could do was nod and whine, hips squirming just from the thought of the pleasure that you’ve previously made yourself feel. It was an instant snap - the build of a rubber band being held back by Thomas’ fiery imprints, before the pressure was released, and the bounce back hit you hard when he pressed into the place that throbbed with wet need.

Your body trembled with a softened sigh, the attention you were receiving easily turning your mind to mush, and he had barely dipped below the surface. Thomas’ eyes widened as his movements traced in the same tempo as his heavy breaths, chest thumping and skin igniting with warmth - he was in wonderment at the sounds that he drew from you, the squirming and the delicate fluttering of your lashes. It was a side of you that he was seeing for the first time, that anybody was seeing for the first time, and he felt so damn privileged.

The boy stopped quickly as you grasped at his wrist, big brown orbs looking to you in worry; but it quickly dissipated when he saw your loving ghost of a smile as it perked at your lips, and how you gently pushed him away to be able to remove the final piece of clothing that separated you from him. The cool breeze over your exposed slick provoked a shudder up your spine, a second one eliciting when you realised that Thomas’ flushed face was staring at your most private area.

He didn’t hesitate when his finger dragged back over you, collecting moisture that made your body tick when slathered across your sensitive nub. The pressure increased and you were sinking, melting, dissolving into the sheet beneath you. Your body was heavy, yet you felt weightless, allowing Thomas to take every ounce of control to drive you into ecstatic oblivion. His touch drew slightly down and circled the sensitive hole that was swimming in your pleasure, your breath hitching as his fingertip breached until his first knuckle. The boy’s hair was tugged with a needy grasp, the sheets below him shifting as they were too curled within your other hand.

Thomas cursed under his breath as he rutted slowly against the side of the bed, his finger beginning to pump as he relished in how you squeezed him. He sighed loudly with a teeth-bitten bottom lip, “You like that?” It was rhetorical by what he saw before him, but he needed the affirmation, to know that you were going to unravel in bliss. And that he was why you were floating in a euphoric daze. You managed a whine in reply, head nodding as words were stuck among your hitching and heavy breaths. The tip of Thomas’ middle finger slightly curled as he shifted his position, and you released a sudden cry after he unknowingly rubbed against your spongey roof. He stopped immediately; scared that you were hurt, his chest tightening with worry until he noticed the cry settling into a moan, and your hips instinctively chased his touch for more attention.

Thomas was known for being brave - diving in head first, running on pure instinct and spontaneity. He wasn’t one to back down, and now he knew what provoked those sweet wanton sounds of a symphony to escape you, he would do whatever possible to keep it going. He pumped his finger harder, his cock twitching against the bedsheet whenever you clenched around him, that one special spot being harassed over and over again until he swore you stopped breathing. His bravery shone when he inserted his pointer finger, his own throat now paying homage as it growled out a groan of desperation at how you both stretched and tightened. His mind travelled to thoughts of how you’d feel wrapped around his throbbing member, and if he didn’t get himself sorted soon, then he’d be leaving behind a spray of stickiness in his pants.

“T-Thomas…” You panted, hips rising and chest heaving as you felt fire bubble in your abdomen. Your voice cracked at the overwhelming sensation, “More… I need more…”

He was careful to remove his fingers, but hasty when he rose up your body. Lips found yours instantly, as if by a magnetised force, two pairs that were destined to be slotted together with a taste that you could so easily get drunk off of. He licked between your lips until you granted him access to explore you properly, sliding with juxtaposed delicate hunger, and swallowing your breath and moans until they settled as his own. Thomas was slightly started as your nails dragged down his naked chest, goosebumps trailing in their wake before the elastic waist of his final piece of cotton was being attended to. The need was growing substantially as he pulled back - much to the disappointment of both himself and you, your lips pursed and eyes growing wide as you stared to him with such childlike doeness.

It was becoming too real now as his hands began to shake, but any doubt was wiped clean when Thomas saw the adoring expression that flushed your face and prompted such a beautiful glint in your eye. You were his, and he was yours. That’s how it was and it’s how it would remain. Thomas was ready to give everything and more to you, as you were to him. Always.

The boy drew a deep breath before his boxers were dropped and he toed them to the side, his body bare in front of you. Thomas was pure - the epitome of a dream, a handsome man with arms that could protect you for the rest of your days. It wasn’t until you looked closer that you properly noticed the scars that showed his true story; both small and large imprints that represented sacrifice, and loss, and success. You lent forward with tentative movements until your fingers danced over the marks, and for a moment Thomas flinched, but easily settled as you traced each one with care. With pursed lips, you pressed against one near his navel; a recent wound that would forever remind you of his escape from death, where a bullet pierced his skin and left him unconscious for days. It was a time when you waited by his bedside without reposition, watching the steady rise of his chest as day turned to night, until he awoke in what would be your rightful Safe Haven.

The thought alone provoked wet tears to coat his lower stomach, and Thomas gently slid his hand into your hair as his thumb soothed you with consistent rubbing motions. Thomas was here with you, he was alive, he was real, he was safe and he was so utterly and completely loved.

It was as if he could read your mind as he cooed against the crown of your head, “I’m here, babygirl. I’m not going anywhere.”

You showed your understanding with more kisses over more of his scars, until every one had been offered endearment. You sat up further on your knees until you could gaze into his caramel eyes and the shade of burnt honey was easily your favourite; they gleamed especially under the afternoon sun, mesmerising swirls that could drag you to the deepest of depths, and you’d let them. They showed kindness and amusement, but right now, they darkened within the thickness of the room and you could’ve sworn that if given the chance… he would eat you alive, right there and then. Oh, how you wish he would.

But this moment was tentative - shared among inexperience, but budding romance and the strongest desires to be held and cherished. You needed to be closer which is why you kissed Thomas slowly, your lashes brushing against his pink cheeks, and your hands tightly squeezing his shoulders as his hardened cock twitched over your stomach. Flames were still burning brightly in your core and they needed to explode before they could be pleasantly extinguished.

Your mind was too hazy to recall how your hold shifted to arms sliding around his neck, pulling him further in until teeth clashed and silenced groans were exchanged, and Thomas took it in stride to poke his tongue at every crevice he could before sliding it deliciously over your own. He lowered you to the bed before placing himself between your thighs, your ankles returning behind his back, and two hearts reverberating with slight anxiety against the other’s chest.

Thomas pulled back slightly as his nose nuzzled with yours, a deep breath taken, “We don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready.” He offered quietly, trying to convince himself that his words were purely directed toward you.

You smiled; the feeling of his wet and puffy lips brushing against your own as you did. You rubbed your nose back against his, “I’m ready if you’re ready… I love you, I’ll do anything for you, Tommy.”

The boy chuckled in near disbelief. He knew a long time ago that he'd love you - that you’d take up every thought, every dream. That you’d so seamlessly enter into his life like the need for oxygen, and without you, he wouldn’t be able to breathe. You weren’t just needed or wanted, you were necessary to Thomas, and the love he had for you was unchallenged and indescribable. And now, it was also so incredibly mutual. Not that he had any doubts.

“I love you too, so much.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, “So, so much.”

Thomas’ hips rocked against yours and the desperation was building fast. He thrust once, twice, three times until he was coating himself in your wet slick and it pulled a guttural noise from his throat. There was a time when he felt embarrassed listening to how his friends would recount their sexual experiences, and what they did to their partners, and how good it really felt. Neither of you had gotten to that stage until now, but he was thankful that he listened otherwise he wouldn’t be able to truly experience you.

The boy’s large hands tugged at himself a few times to properly lather himself in your wetness and you couldn’t help but sneak a peek at the package he held, your bottom lip quickly being held captive. You exhaled deeply, eyes widening, voice softening, “A-are you sure that’s gonna fit?”

He laughed, a sound so sweet, “We’ll just have to see, won’t we? But…it might hurt, okay?” He huffed into your ear, face buried in the crook of your neck as you pressed a trail of open-mouthed kisses to his flushed skin, “So you need to tell me when to stop if it gets too much.” You whined, nodding in acknowledgement as Thomas began to line himself up, the head of his sensitive girth meeting your lower lips. But he didn’t push further, taking another deep breath, “You need to say it, please, baby. I need to hear you say it.”

Instinctively, you ground up against him and released a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the anticipation grew, “I will, I promise.”

He didn’t need much more convincing as Thomas pushed into you, so incredibly slowly as he savoured how tight you clung to him. Your warmth forced his eyes to roll back and knowing that he was stretching you brought on utter determination. His cock was burying deeper, and deeper, and even he was starting to question now whether he’d fit inside you. Thomas opened his eyes after realising that they were closed, not remembering when he squeezed them shut, and he looked over your scrunched face with a gentle coo. He lifted a hand to your face before his thumb was gentle in pushing out the wrinkle between your eyes, his touch dragging down the curve of your face to cup your cheek. He whispered to you - affirmations and encouragements, reminders of love and pride.

The lack of reception was a worry that nearly made him stop until you covered his hand with your own, face tilting until you could kiss over Thomas’ palm. You huffed as you were being filled, swearing that you could feel him in your stomach, but the pain would surely dissipate. “I love you, I love you, I love you…” Your mantra repeated like a broken record, getting lost in the heavy panting of your breath, until your back suddenly arched and Thomas had reached the hilt.

He was already spent as hands braced themselves beside your head, caging you in until all you could see was his kiss-swollen lips and lustful dark eyes checking you for any kind of discomfort. The pressure sucking him into you was a sensation that he could never grow tired of, yet he waited for your face to soften and for the curl of your lips before he was granted permission to finally move.

It was harmonious when you both sang out in pleasure; the four walls of your hut hopefully thick enough to not draw in any unwanted attention, but at this stage, you could care less about anybody or anything outside of the bubble you and Thomas found yourselves within. His rocking turned to a fastened pace, driven by just how close you both already were to reaching your highs. Hips clashed and lustful sounds echoed as your arms curled under his own and grasped at his shoulders, pulling the boy closer until an inch couldn’t be spared between your sweat-sheened skin. Curses fell from your lips with ease and Thomas relished in the way that he was making you feel, your bodies moving as a single unit as you were pushed and pulled across the bed.

He nosed your cheek before brushing his lips against yours - not quite a kiss, but a flash of want that was sure to leave behind a burn, and you hoped that the feeling would stay with you forever. He nuzzled into you as he moaned out, “I love you”, his words so sweet in contrast to the near-pornographic moan that followed when you clenched around his cock. It made you rut back against him and meeting his hips halfway was nearly your tipping point. You were chasing after the feeling of ecstasy as it continued to build and continued to run, your arm held out and it was within reaching distance. So close. So close.

You knew you had crossed the finish line when your vision turned to stars; a white light coinciding with delicate heat, your body trembling as you droned against Thomas. You were weightless again - floating in euphoria, your bones melting as you collapsed completely into Thomas and he made sure to hold you against his naked chest with a protective arm across your back. It was the first time you truly felt pleasure and it was perfect.

“You did so well…” Thomas cooed, trying to withstand his own release as he kissed over your temple, his fingers massaging into your spine when he felt a quiet sob escape you. His lips pressed once more, “Just so you know” He started again, his thrusts slowing before he went too far, “You look so beautiful right now.”

“I’m crying.” You scoffed, eyes scrunching when you pulled back as his cock throbbed from inside you, dragging over the spongey spot that had the potential to drive you to insanity if probed enough. But the feeling was too strong and you were becoming too sensitive.

Thomas noticed before he pulled out with haste, his tortured girth being fisted roughly within his hand. He took a deep breath, the urge to cum growing nearer as his head threw back and his eyes screwed shut. “You’re beautiful even when you cry.” It wasn’t until he looked at you, the feeling of soft skin cupping his cheeks and your lips slotting against his own, that Thomas finally let go. You swallowed his moans as the boy shook under your grasp; strings of white stick painting his fist and reaching your chest.

He was the first to break away, the need for air nearly forgotten as he was getting lost in your touch and taste. Thomas’ forehead pressed to yours and his shoulders sagged in absolute content. Your relationship consummated on an entirely different level, and you both had never felt closer to one another. Thomas hummed, his heart rate slowly coming down, yet he couldn’t help but express excitement, “That, fuck… that was amazing. Absolutely amazing.” He grinned as you giggled under your breath, arms wrapping back around his neck, “And you, babygirl.. that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and I survived a week in the Scorch.”

He flinched slightly as you slapped at his shoulder, embarrassment flourishing and your face was hidden as it nuzzled against one of his pecs. The boy continued to rub your back through his tamed chuckles, admiring what he deemed as adorable behaviour, and you acknowledged him with a series of kisses over the damp skin of his chest and an amused tone, “You’re such a dork, Tommy.”

“I’m your dork.”

You murmured something incomprehensible against him, followed by a yawn and a satisfied smile. You were worn, in the best way possible, through a moment that would stay with you for as long as life allowed you to keep it. Thomas has saved you in more than one way - allowing you a new lease on life, full of different experiences and emotions, with a promise held in the cusps of forever love. It was a struggle to get to where you are now but you’re glad, no, you’re gratified that it eventually led you to a life with Thomas.

The boy pulled you back to his chest as he squeezed a final hug, his brows furrowing at the feeling of cooling slick between your bodies, a bittersweet end to where love was made, “First things first, I’m gonna have to clean us up.”

#dylan o'brien x reader #thomas tmr x reader #tmr thomas x reader #tmr thomas #dylan o'brien smut #thomas tmr #tw smut #afab reader #the maze runner #tmr x reader

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prettylittlels · 1 year ago

Text

proud

(sebastian vettel x ferrari!reader)

summary: ferrari wins in monza thanks to sebastian vettel's wife

a/n: seb my baby

yourusername has posted a story!

caption: let's go Monza! 🇮🇹

seen by 1,972,200 users

charles_leclerc has posted a story!

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liked by 4,928,104 others

f1news today we race in Monza and there is hope for Ferrari! since the new team manager of Scuderia Ferrari, y/n y/ln - vettel, took the reins, things are looking better for our favorite red team. the streets are buzzing with anticipation: the rumors of y/n taking the team to the top of the constructor's championship aren't little, and the whispers of y/ln's husband, the retired driver sebastian vettel, being present at today's race are getting louder.

7,298 comments

user1 vamos ferrari ❤️🇮🇹🚘

user2 y/n literally saved ferrari

user3 seby/n content pleaseee

-> user4 omg yess we havent seen them in so longg

liked by yourusername and 2,928,106

scuderiaferrari Charles Leclerc won the Italian Grand Prix! and Carlos Sainz close, finishing second!

134,970 comments

user5 YEEEEESSSSSSS

user6 Y/N TRULY IS OUR SAVIOUR

charles_leclerc thank you y/n ❤️ ferrari isn't the same without you

-> yourusername liked this comment

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 307,145 others

sebastianvettel Ich bin so stolz auf dich. Ich kann nicht glauben, dass alle deine Träume wahr geworden sind, meine Liebe. Für immer dankbar, dass ich dich meine Frau nennen darf. Ich liebe dich bis zum Mond und bis zum Saturn ❤️

(i am so proud of you. i cant believe all of your dreams came true, my love. forever thankful that i can call you my wife. i love you to the moon and to saturn.)

tagged yourusername

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yourusername forever yours 🖤

tagged sebastianvettel

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f1news after today's victory, iconic husband and wife duo y/n y/ln - vettel and sebastian vettel have been seen entering two-michelin star restaurant in Rome. congrats to the beautiful couple!

72,910 comments

user7 MY PARENTS

landonorris mama y papa

-> user8 LANDO????

user9 THE f1 couple

user0 🔥

#book recommendations #bookworm #x reader #f1 x reader #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel

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imagine-darksiders · 4 days ago

Text

Angel of Highway 49 - chapter 4.

No Good Deed.

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Summary: You find out who put that money in your account. Optimus just wants to help. You're not sure it's ever that simple.

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It’s a very rare thing for the ever-stoic Prime to lose his composure.

So rare, in fact, that in the months he’s known them, the children have never been privy to a single slip – not even when Jack and Bumblebee’s little fling with street-racing was brought to his attention.

Even then, as Optimus stood tall over his scout and the young teen under his care, he’d trusted his voice to remain even, stern, and steady whilst he told them, in no uncertain terms, just how disappointed he was in the pair of them.

He can still recall the little ‘oof,’ Bulkhead had mumbled nearby, and the sound of Miko sucking air through her teeth from up on the recreational platform.

Here, however, parked in vehicle mode across a dusty, country lane with his engine still thrumming forcefully in the wake of a very, very close call, Optimus isn’t sure he trusts his glossa not to falter if he attempts to speak.

He’d heard your question, of course, though his hidden gaze remains fixed attentively on the horizon line, and for several seconds, he has to concentrate on reeling in his alarm, quelling the drumfire of his spark as it lashes against its chamber.

That had been close…. Far too close.

The Prime’s overwrought processor trips on a single line of thought, replaying the same words over and over in a feedback loop that he struggles to disrupt.

If he hadn’t been travelling along this road at the right moment… If he’d arrived even a few seconds later… you might’ve-…

A firewall is brusquely slammed down in the middle of the runaway circuit, breaking him free of his own ruminations.

Ah… But it doesn’t do well for a Prime to brood on things that haven’t come to pass.

‘It’s those ‘what ifs, Optimus,’ Ratchet used to tell him, ‘They’ll drag a mech down to the Pit if they’re given too much deliberation.’ This all said in a knowing and pointed tone at the back of Optimus’s helm when the medic caught him gazing up at the stars a little too wistfully.

The passage of time creeps on with its usual indifference, and as the seconds fritter by and the desert wind gently carries the roar of Knockout’s engine further and further away - away from you - Prime’s defensive codes finally begin to ease, and the flared plating on his roof flattens down, slotting back into place as seamlessly as they had been before they sprang out in an attempt to make himself look larger for the Con threatening you.

He almost lost you, he realises. An innocent. A human whose only offence was to be in the wrong place at the wrong time…

In a sudden burst of haste, he tears his sights off the skyline and subjects you to a thorough once-over, sweeping his optics up and down your body from head to toe.

Twin plumes of air shoot from his smokestacks when his scanners flag the specks of blood beading on your elbows, and the hand you’ve curled over your right shoulder that betrays an injury laying below your epidermis.

You, however, have no idea you’re being so closely examined. All you know is that your timely saviour has been exceptionally quiet for quite some time, save for his truck’s engine growling in your ears. In fact, your question as to who the man in the Aston is goes unanswered for long enough that you eventually manage to drag your eyes away from the now empty horizon and glance up at the blacked-out windscreen of Optimus’s Peterbilt.

Even with the sun-baked tarmac throwing ample heat up all around you, you still feel a prickle of ice scampering up your spine as you peer up into that flat, impassive pane of glass.

The Aston’s windscreen had been just as dark, if you recall.

“… Optimus?” you fret, tinny and hesitant.

Another bout of silence drags on until you start to wonder if the truck’s speakers are malfunctioning because of the crash. But a moment later, the vehicle beside you promptly shudders around its metal frame, and its engine kicks out another deep, reverberating growl.

“That,” Optimus chews out at last, punctuating the word with a quiet but decisive grunt, “Is someone you will never have to worry about again…” Then, after a beat, the flinty edge to his voice turns soft and velvety once more as the man behind the microphone heaves a weary sigh and adds, “Not if I have any say in the matter.”

Privately, you have to admit that it’s a relief to hear his gentler cadence again.

Turning back towards the road, your brow furls into a subtle frown and you blow a noisy breath through your pursed lips in an attempt to disguise the tremor in your limbs, shivering despite the sweat still prickling at your temples. “Hmm…,” you utter, troubled, “I hope to god you’re right.”

At least he’s confirmed what you suspected; whoever was behind the wheel of that Aston Martin is dangerous.

So… why did he turn tail when Optimus pulled his truck up?

Slowly, as the moment stretches on and all you can do is bask in the bitter relief of being alive, the hand on your shoulder rubs tenderly at the bruise you just know will be forming in the next few hours.

You nearly jump out of your skin when a careful presence nudges at the same arm, warm and solid against your elbow.

Snapping your head sideways, you blink widely, surprised to find that Optimus has somehow managed to inch his enormous Peterbilt forwards so heedfully that the metal of its grill presses up against your side with the barest sliver of pressure, lending you a surface to lean your weight against should you need it.

In spite of the circumstances that have just transpired, you can’t quite refrain from raising your eyes over the top of the grill and offering the windscreen a small, wobbly tilt of your lips, letting your body rest against the humming metal with a grateful exhale.

All at once, Optimus’s voice spills into the space around you, filtering through his invisible speakers and buzzing pleasantly inside your chest.

“Are you hurt?” he asks in as gentle a timbre as you’ve heard from him yet, a far cry from the authoritative, borderline savage tone he’d used to fend off the Aston driver.

You ponder his question, sparing a glance at your tender shoulder and rolling it experimentally, only to suppress a wince at the ensuing twinge of pain. For Optimus’s sake though, you stiffen your upper lip and offer a shake of your head that you’re not even sure he can see.

“I’ll live,” you say blithely.

His ensuing hum smacks of discontentment. “That is not what I asked.”

“I’m fine,” you reiterate, physically flapping away his concern, “It’s Tom who-... Oh, god. Tom!”

In an instantly regrettable move, you use your sore arm to shove yourself up off the truck’s grill and clamp your mouth shut to smother a pitiful whimper.

“There was another with you?” Optimus asks urgently.

Shaking off the pain, you fist a hand into your hair and tug anxiously at the strands, marching several paces away from the truck to stare down the road with a lip stuffed between your teeth. You can’t even see the shire horse anymore, your line of sight broken up by sparse bushes and pillars of orange rock.

Is he heading back to the dairy?

You can only hope so.

“Tom! He’s my horse,” you explain miserably, “Well, not my horse. Terry’s horse, but I was borrowing him to do a job for Terry, and then I fell off when that maniac sped by and I – I-!” You have to stop and suck down a shaking breath, your eyes stinging and blurring over with tears that you furiously swipe away with the back of your wrist. “I can’t believe I lost him! God, Terry’s gonna kill me!”

“He’s going to what?” Optimus demands as another burst of smoke erupts from the Peterbilt’s stacks.

“Hopefully not literally,” you add as an afterthought, mostly to yourself, “He gave me one job… One job, and I managed to cock that up as well.”

Optimus is silent behind you, but you can hear the crackling sand under the wheels of his truck as it rolls forwards, and you start to feel the warmth of its metal on your back.

“I hope you are not suggesting that any of this was your fault,” he informs you pointedly.

You can’t resist a derisive scoff at your own expense, turning around to face the truck and tipping your palms helplessly towards the ever-darkening sky. “You see anyone else around here to blame?” you ask with a hitch in your voice.

He might have said something in response, but your brain doesn’t register the words because at that moment, you catch your first glimpse of the other side of his truck, and a gasp jumps out of your throat, interrupting his satiny reassurances.

“Oh, Optimus,” you lament, laying a hand over your heart and venturing slowly back to the Peterbilt where you hesitate at its side, blinking wetly down at the warped metal and flecked paint; battle wounds from a vehicle that had borne the brunt of a violent collision. Your voice is thick with regret when you choke, “Your lovely truck!”

Said truck’s engine kicks out a sudden rev before it settles again, and Optimus clears his throat. “Ah, the damage is merely cosmetic,” he reassures you, “I am–… My vehicle’s systems are functioning optimally.”

And then, for some reason, his semi rolls back a few yards, bringing the tall bonnet of the vehicle level with you again. “It is you I am concerned about,” the driver adds sternly.

“Well, you shouldn’t be…” Suddenly anxious for an entirely different reason, you meander sideways back down the length of the truck and stretch out your fingertips, touching them gently to the crumpled metal and drawing them in a careful stroke along to the seam where the driver’s side door opens.

Blowing out a harsh breath through your cheeks, you flick a glance up to the window and say, “It looks bad, Optimus. This’ll be an expensive repair.”

Beneath your tiny fingertips, the engine pulses with powerful, steady beats, like the metal itself is has a working heart.

“Y/n…” he rumbles.

But you’re not finished.

Something has just dawned on you; the ugly truth that if it weren’t for you, none of this damage would be here.

“I… This is…” Stepping backwards, you lower your gaze to your wringing hands, brows pinched together and squeezing towards the centre of your forehead. “This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t have to save me…”

The gears in your head start to turn, and after a trembling inhale, you force out, “It’s my fault, so I… I should pay for the repairs.”

You aren’t expecting him to snap your name so jarringly.

“Y/n.” Spoken, not shouted, but nonetheless his voice cuts through you like a hammer strike and sends you jerking back a step, mouth agape as you stare up at the driver’s window.

“Do you truly believe-” he starts, taking an audible pause as if to keep himself in check. Your eyes drift to the noticeably shuddering smokestacks. “- that I would value currency over the pricelessness of a human life? Of your life?”

For an awkward stretch of time, your mouth falls open and clicks shut as you flounder for a response. Befuddled, you squint up at the darkened window as if you might find some insight in the reflection of the desert landscape.

The truth of the matter is you simply don’t understand him.

He doesn’t even know you. In an ideal world, of course a life is more valuable than money. But your world is far from ideal. Growing up, it was impressed upon you that if you broke something that belonged to someone else, you paid to replace or fix it.

Hell, even going as far back as your school days, you can still remember the time you kicked a friend’s football over the fence where it bounced onto the main road and was promptly squashed by a passing car. The very next day, you went out to buy him a new one.

‘It was your fault,’ your father told you gruffly as he watched you upend your piggy bank and count out your hard-earned pocket money through watery eyes, ‘So you gotta pay for it.’

And yes, you recall thinking, that made sense.

The logic still carries over here, years down the line, albeit in very different circumstances with very much more money potentially involved.

If you hadn’t fallen off Tom, you wouldn’t have antagonised that driver, and Optimus wouldn’t have had to sacrifice his own truck to stop you from getting crushed flat by a drugged-out trafficker.

“But…” Rendered supremely uncertain by his conviction, you try to impress upon him the seriousness of the damage by gesturing to it with a weak flap of your hand. “But your truck…”

“-Can be repaired,” he responds patiently, if with a barely-there touch of exasperation, like you’re the one baffling him, “A life is not so easily replaced. And I will not have you paying for any damage I have sustained. I do not need, nor do I want your money.”

Is he suggesting that you get off Scot-free?

Well. That’s just…

Dumb.

It’s dumb. How are you supposed to learn from your mistakes if you never have to pay for them?

It’s the kind of thing someone for whom money is no object would say.

Perhaps, a small voice in the back of your head suddenly pipes up, briefly forgotten in the chaotic swirl of adrenaline and emotion, this is for the best.

It’s laughable, really. Here you are, offering to pay for repairs to a truck when you don’t even have enough money to pay for a-….

… Oh.

The weight of your phone suddenly begins to burn a hole in your pocket, as does the mysterious sum sitting prettily in your bank account.

In all honesty, it had entirely slipped your mind.

All at once, the air around you grows charged, unspoken words hanging between you and your timely saviour like blows ready to be traded.

The smokestacks on top of the semi shudder and kick out twin plumes of light grey fumes.

“Optimus,” you begin slowly, your voice tired but guarded, and just a little colder than intended, “There’s… something I need to ask you.”

And even though you half-expect it, you still flinch when the driver’s door suddenly pops open, swinging out wide in invitation.

“I will answer as best I can. But first, I am taking you somewhere safe,” Optimus tells you, and at to begin with, his tone is stern and leaves no room for argument. But after a second, you hear him sigh heavily, and the truck’s body creaks on its axles as its driver lowers his voice to gently prod, “You require medical attention. There is a clinic in town that…”

He trails off as you fold your arms over your chest and pointedly disregard the open door, instead levelling a severe frown up into the cab, standing your ground. “Out of the question.”

“Y/n…”

“I’m only getting into this truck if you promise to take me straight to Terry’s Dairy,” you say, “Otherwise, I’m walking.”

A light on the dashboard flickers brightly for a second before Optimus softly points out, “You are injured.”

Clicking your tongue, you ignore his very valid observation to primly retort, “Oh, don’t be daft. I fell off a horse, I didn’t break my leg.” And to prove your own point, you turn on your heel and begin to wander stiffly up the road.

Perhaps that had been foolish, given how surely you’re going to feel those blossoming bruises in the morning, but it’s far too late to draw to a halt now and show your hand.

As you might have expected, it’s not even a second later that you hear the hiss of brakes being decompressed, and the rumble of the semi’s engine as it pulls onto the road, rolling along behind you for several paces while Optimus calls, “If you will insist upon not seeking medical expertise, then I will, of course, bring you back to the Dairy. But… please, do not exacerbate your injuries.”

That, at the very least, gets you to stop. Privately, you’re relieved to. A fresh twinge in your knee suggests you may have bumped more than just the one shoulder. And in all honesty, you’re not exactly keen on traipsing up the same road that speedster had just driven along, all by yourself.

And there’s still the matter of the burning question you’ve been meaning to ask Optimus…

Hanging your head, you brace a hand on your hip and sigh through your nose as the massive truck coasts to a gentle stop beside you, shading you from the setting sun.

Without having to look, you know the passenger door now sits open, waiting for you to embark.

In your heart of hearts, you’re already praying that you’re wrong about all of this. That Optimus isn’t the person who put that money into your account. But the more you hear from him, the more it strikes you as something he might just be able - and willing - to pull off.

But why?

Nobody is that nice. Nobody gives ten thousand to a stranger they just met. You can’t help but wonder if he has an ulterior motive?

‘Paranoia is unbecoming,’ your mother told you after you complained that the latest in her string of lovers was paying just a little too much attention to the contents of your laundry basket.

You don’t mean to be paranoid, it’s just….

“Ahem…” Somehow, he manages to offer the politest cough you’ve ever heard.

Innocent until proven guilty, right?

“Right,” you decide under your breath, pivoting towards the truck and finding that, yes, the door is indeed wide open in invitation.

Inclining your head to peer up at the cab, you reach out for the grab handle and say, “Straight back to the dairy, all right?”

Optimus doesn’t hesitate, perhaps knowing that any pause would be immediately noted.

“You have my word,” he tells you solemnly, unable to resist adding, “Though I think it would be prudent of you to reconsider.”

With a half-hearted tut, you slide your fingers around the warm band of metal and haul yourself up onto the first step.

Or at least you try to.

In hindsight, it was rather stupid to grab the handle with your right hand. The hand connected to your right shoulder. The same shoulder you landed on when you fell from Tom, and again when you threw yourself to the ground to avoid becoming a smear across a handsome, scarlet bonnet.

You’re not even in the air for a second when a shooting streak of agony lances straight across your shoulder blades and jabs an unseen, red-hot poker into the muscle just below your neck.

Your eyes bulge open wide, and your mouth parts to suck in a choked gasp. But worse still, your fingers promptly go slack on the handle and then slip off as your entire body begins to tip backwards, one foot still in the air behind you, and the other perched precariously on the truck’s step.

It wouldn’t be so bad if you hadn’t been falling at such an awkward angle, but right as you squeeze your eyes shut and prepare for yet another painful jolt through your coccyx-

“Ough!” A clumsy shout is knocked from your lungs when something snakes around your left forearm and goes taut.

Just like that, your impromptu tumble comes to a jarring halt.

Your eyes flash open, blinking widely up into the cab.

You can still feel the leg extended out behind you, dangling uselessly above the ground. And you’re still aware that the heel of your other boot is balanced on the hard metal edge of the step. You’re being held in place, anchored to the semi by the thin, grey seatbelt that’s whipped out to wrap itself several times over around your forearm.

Did you…. Grab it? Somehow? When you…

But no.

It had to have moved. It had to. Hell, it’s still moving.

Even now, you can feel the fabric shift and tighten against your skin as it reels you steadily in towards the door, like it has a mind of its own…

“What… kind of truck did you say this was?” you ask dumbly, letting your hand fumble for the door handle when it’s guided there by the belt.

“Fully remote-accessed,” Optimus rumbles cryptically.

And yeah. You can see that.

The belt is still looped around your arm when you’re half tugged, half helped into the cab proper, and it only comes loose when you gather enough wits to actually pry it off, picking at the fabric with shaking fingers until it goes slack, and you can slide it over your lap and into the catch with a ‘click.’

Slowly, you withdraw your hands, eyeing the belt as if it might spring to life again at any moment.

“Remote-accessed seatbelts?” you breathe dubiously, quirking a brow at the empty driver’s seat for lack of anyone to make eye contact with.

Sensibly, Optimus doesn’t reply, and soon enough, the uniform purr of the truck’s engine kicks up underneath you as it starts to drive, settling into a deliberately sedate pace along the road to Terry’s farm.

“… You had a question for me,” Optimus prods no more than a few seconds after you’ve driven off.

Straight and to the point. He isn’t beating around any bushes, not like you are, apprehensive of a potential confrontation.

It… quite suddenly occurs to you that you’ve just entered the truck of a man you’ve interacted with exactly once before today. A man who apparently has… an unusual amount of control over his own vehicle…

Jesus, no wonder Terry thinks you’re a dunce.

And yet you’re not here to marvel over the wonders and advancements of modern technology. You’ve never been especially tech-savvy. You know your way around a smart phone and a computer just as much as the next person. But you’re well aware there are concepts out there in the works that you simply haven’t fathomed yet.

You shift uncomfortably in the clean leather seats, eyeing the dried manure that’s caking the sides of your boots, and grimace. “I did,” you finally say in response to Optimus’s prompt. Then, straightening up a little and dragging your eyes up to the road ahead… “I do.”

You’re not sure about the question any more though. Suddenly, you feel unprepared. While you’d resolved to confront Optimus about the money, you realise now that you never actually gave any thought as to how you’d react if he confirms your suspicions.

And now that he’s most likely just saved your life, you find yourself in an even more unenviable predicament.

“Look, before I say anything else,” you start, scrubbing your hands over your thighs, “I wanted to say thank you. For showing up back there. I really am grateful. Sorry I didn’t say it sooner.”

Optimus’s gentler-than-average tone seeps into the cab, surrounding you in with its deep, warm hum that distracts you from the lingering ache in your shoulder.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he tells you sincerely, “I would do it again in a sp-… in a heartbeat.”

You chalk up the skip in his voice to a speaker malfunction.

Lowering your stare to the footwell once again, you purse your lips and click your tongue, feeling guilty now that you’re about to accuse him of anything. Optimus is, as you figured last night, the good sort. He wouldn’t be so underhanded as to invade your privacy like that, would he?

Only one way to find out…

“Optimus,” you begin, hooking your thumbs over each other and squeezing, “Last night, when I managed to charge my phone, I saw something odd.”

All he does is make a soft sound of affirmation through his speakers, coaxing you wordlessly to continue.

“It was my bank account,” you say in a rush, “There was some money in there… A lot of money. Money that, ah… wasn’t in it yesterday morning.”

“Mm,” he hums, curious. Innocent.

You start to doubt yourself.

“You wouldn’t…. happen to know anything about that, would you?”

You’d been expecting any number of responses.

Maybe an incredulous laugh? Maybe some sort of flimsy excuse if he was the culprit.

What you aren’t expecting, however, is for Optimus to offer a very mellow, very straightforward, “Yes. I sent it to you. I hope it sufficed.”

Everything, absolutely everything – the drug-dealer, nearly being the victim of a hit-and-run, the lost Shire horse, the trouble you’ll no doubt be in with Terry when you get back – it all gets shoved to the wayside, and your mind comes to a screeching halt.

Very stiffly, you lift your head, staring with unseeing eyes through the windscreen.

“You what?”

The worst part about it is, he really has the gall to sound confused when he elaborates, “I sent it. I have no use for the money. With you, I thought it would be put to good use…”

“It was you,” you realise quietly, incredulous.

And then, as if your head wasn’t already reeling. “I… apologise if ten thousand was an insufficient sum,” he murmurs.

Insufficient.

Insu-fucking-ficient?

“Ten thousand….” Your lips peel back over your teeth, gradually exposing the gums as you twist your neck around to aim a baleful glare at the driver’s seat. “You dropped… ten thousand into my bank account…” Then, balling your hands into fists, you let out a derisive laugh and bellow, “Are you out of your goddamn mind!?”

The steering wheel suddenly rolls to the side as if it’s flinching away from your unexpected outburst, and in doing so, the whole vehicle veers out into the middle of the road before righting itself once more, smoothly drifting back over into its lane.

For his part, Optimus is firstly mortified that he’d made such an erratic movement that could have further worsened your injuries, and secondly shocked at the sudden outcry from the little human in his cab.

Of all the responses he expected from you, he didn’t anticipate one that would be quite so explosive.

At once, he angles his rearview mirror towards your face, relieved that you don’t seem to notice the motion, and analyses the expression darkening your delicate features.

Lips drawn back to reveal your teeth – a typical human threat display. Eyes wide and wild, pupils small even in the dim light of his cab.

He’d write it off as anger… if anger and fear didn’t look so much alike. He’s seen plenty of both, enough to recognise one from the other if he pays attention.

In an instant, Optimus’s frame wilts around him, his tyres slowing to a crawl on the dusty road.

He’s frightened you. Again.

Though this time he isn’t sure that he understands why.

It seldom happens that the Prime is lost for worst, but right now, the diplomatist in him can’t come up with anything more than an inelegant, “Pardon?”

Which, judging by the thunderous cloud that descends over your eyes, was the wrong thing to come back with.

If you would just tell him what the problem is, he’ll fix it, in any way he can.

He braces himself for another shout, but is surprised when your voice doesn’t reach that same crescendo again. Apparently, you’d even startled yourself.

Even so, there’s still no shortage of venom in your tone when you snap, “You can’t just-! Just GIVE ten thousand dollars to someone! And right after I told you I wasn’t a charity!”

Ah… He wonders if this is a matter of pride…

“You needed it,” he tells you calmly, sending a soothing pulse through the air before he once again recalls that you’re not a Cybertronian, “I did not.”

“THAT-!”

Back to shouting. He’s usually better at this.

“-IS COMPLETELY BESIDES THE POINT!”

Optimus finds himself tied for words again. If he could just explain to you that human money really has no value to him, you’d probably understand. The US Government give him a relatively generous stipend to spend on certain necessities should the need ever arise.

He’s barely had to dip into it at all though, and only ever for things like the base’s monitors, some structurally sound sofas for the children, that new laptop Rafael couldn’t afford but had somehow turned up in the boy’s backpack regardless…

All things that barely made a dent in the sum Optimus currently has sitting in limbo.

What better use for unspent funds than to give them to someone who really needs them?

If you would only allow him to help you-

“You were totally out of line, doing that!” you continue, breathing hard, “Not only was it a… a gross invasion of my boundaries, but it also looks completely suspicious!”

Briefly, Optimus wonders if you ever studied medicine. There’s a certain medic he knows who would get a kick out of seeing his old friend being scolded by somebody one-twentieth his size.

But your words do give him pause.

An invasion of your boundaries… That, he finds most concerning. Thinking back on it, you did say you’d have to respectfully decline his offer of financial assistance…. But he only meant to….

Ah. He may be starting to see where he’s put a foot wrong.

It isn’t for him to decide why you shouldn’t be upset. It’s for him to acknowledge that you are, and that he’s the reason for it.

“I mean, do I even want to know how you managed to pull off a transfer like that!? Wait! Don’t even tell me! I don’t!” you steamroll over the plausible excuse he was about to give you, “Just-! Just do me one favour.”

Optimus is only too happy to jump on the opportunity to make things right again. Again, he can hear Arcee scoffing in his audials, deriding him for needing the approval of a human he’s just met. Regardless, he pushes her snark to the side and speeds up as he earnestly replies, “Name it.”

The look you’re giving his empty seat is as fearsome as you can no doubt make it, but that doesn’t disguise the moisture building behind your delicate eyelids. Something about what comes next is hard for you. He doesn’t miss that.

“Take it back,” you try to say evenly, squeezing the fabric of his seatbelt between quivering fingers.

Optimus’s spark twists with indecision. You need the money. He knows it, you know it. What are you punishing yourself for? “… Are you certain?” he stresses.

“You got it in there, you can damn well draw it out again,” you bark, giving a hard sniff that does little to stop the tiny bead of salty water from spilling onto your lashes, “Take it back!”

You won’t let him help you.

The Prime’s EM field hums, troubled. He’s only slightly glad you can’t pick up on it like his team could.

‘This human is not your charge, Optimus,’ a voice that sounds suspiciously like Ratchet’s pipes up at the back of his processor.

But if not his, then whose? You’re all by yourself out here, you confirmed that much last night.

But this distress… This isn’t what he wants. If trying to help you like this only leads to suspicion and upset, then he’ll have to take a step back and reassess his angle, like any good pragmatist.

You jump a few inches off the seat when the phone in your shirt pocket vibrates with a shrill ‘ding!’

Casting a chary glare at the truck’s steering wheel, you fish the phone out and tap its screen with your thumb, lighting up the interior of the cab in cool, blue light.

There’s a message on the screen. Short, and bittersweet, headed by the name of your bank.

‘£8,000 has been withdrawn from your account.’

A single eyebrow slides up your forehead. “All of it please, Optimus.”

“….”

‘Ding!’

‘£2000 has been withdrawn from your account.’

There. It’s done. You feel a crushing weight lift instantly from your chest.

“Thank you,” you sigh loudly, sagging backwards against his seat with a tiny smile.

“If it is of any consolation,” he begins in that soft timbre of his, “Causing you this undue distress was the furthest thing from my mind.”

You… think you believe him. Or maybe you just want too badly to believe that there are really people out here who only want to help. You want to believe him, which is why it hurts so much that you don’t.

Because something else has just occurred to you.

That Aston driver… you’re fairly certain he’s caught up in bad business. If not the drug trade, then some other equally awful affair. And he’d driven off the moment Optimus arrived. But he’d shown up less than twenty-four hours after Optimus put all that money into your account? For no apparent reason?

There are dots here. And you’re connecting them with flimsy, frayed string, but they all seem to be coming together… somehow. Because this can’t all be a coincidence, can it?

A mysterious truck driver just happens to find some drifter walking into town without a penny to their name, someone who had left their entire family behind them to start a new life. Someone who wouldn’t necessarily be missed. And that drifter just happens to have a suspicious amount of money dumped into their account one day, only to get attacked by a faceless driver the next?

You don’t know what Optimus is hiding….

But you’re starting to smell a rat.

Blearily, your eyes drift over to the windscreen and you focus on the view beyond, noticing that the sky is far darker now, and the twinkling lights of Terry’s dairy have risen up over the curve of the road to meet you.

“You can drop me here,” you murmur, spent from the relief and from raising your voice, “I can walk the rest.”

“I wish I could comply with your request, Youngling, especially after what I’ve done, but… regrettably there is a matter of grave importance that I must bring to your attention.”

You wheeze out a subdued laugh. Of course there is.

“That… driver,” Optimus continues, “I’m afraid he is more dangerous than you realise.”

“Yeah… yeah I’m well aware of just how dangerous he is,” you grumble, scratching the bend of one elbow and grimacing at the dried blood under your fingernail, “Whatever. I’ll call the police and they’ll track him down.”

“I’m afraid it isn’t quite that simple,” he explains with the pointed patience of a man trying to explain something rather simple to a child, “You see, that… driver now knows your face. And worse still, I fear, he knows that you and I are acquainted.”

You don’t know if you’re imagining the quiet whine of his engine when Optimus sighs deeply and adds, “It is entirely my fault that you are now in danger, but I could not just… I would never just sit back and allow him to hurt you.”

Danger?

Your stomach sinks down through the soles of your boots.

Son of a bitch, you knew this guy was too good to be true.

With your suspicions all but confirmed, you give a sudden jab at the seatbelt catch, barely pausing to see if it’s come loose before you twist in your seat to give the door handle a sudden, vicious yank, though the whole thing remains sealed tight.

You don’t hear Optimus grunt in surprise.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Let me out,” you tell him as calmly as you can.

Optimus’s brakes engage, but he doesn’t open the door, preoccupied with trying to coax you back into your seat. “Y/n, please listen to me, I am trying to help you understand-“

“-Understand what!?” you blurt, still fruitlessly trying the handle, “That your buddy back there wouldn’t have tried to kill me if he didn’t know you’d stashed the money on me?”

“I-… I beg your pardon?”

“Save it,” you snap, giving up on the handle and instead trying to pry the lock out of its slot beside the window, “Just let me out, and I’ll forget about this whole thing. You’ll never have to speak to me again. I won’t tell anyone just-!”

Alarm flares through the Prime’s circuitry. This is quickly getting out of hand. You’ve misunderstood in perhaps the worst way possible. He doesn’t want to never speak to you again. Quite the opposite, in fact-

A fist suddenly connects with his dashboard, startling Optimus into returning his focus to you, and to your frantic, haggard expression.

“Damnit, Optimus!” you yelp, curled up as close to his door as you can get, “You let me out of this truck right now!”

And Optimus, registering the high levels of cortisol flooding into your system, doesn’t delay a moment longer, unlocking his passenger door with a dull ‘click.’

You’d have fallen straight out of him if he hadn’t kept the door hinges stiff to catch you against it, opening it just gradually enough that you can shove against it in your haste to scramble out, but not fast enough to lose your balance and topple head over heels onto the sand.

‘Fix this,’ a whispering voice tells him, his own, no doubt. And he will, for your own safety, he has to.

But right now, you’re shutting his door with more gentleness than he’s sure you want to exert, and staggering away from him, rounding the back of his vehicle mode rather than move up front. Whatever conclusions you’ve drawn, you’ve drawn in tight, and you don’t look like you’re willing to let them go.

“Listen,” you start with a gleam in your eye that’s trying so much to be hard and unaffected, but to the Prime’s scrutiny only seems scared and betrayed, “Thank you for saving me, thank you for trying to help, but whatever it is you’ve got going on, Optimus, I want nothing to do with it.”

“Y/n,” he calls after you, rolling off the road after you as you veer in a straight line towards the start of the dairy farm’s drive, “Please-“

“-Leave me alone!” He doesn’t miss the hitch in your throat.

Dejected, Optimus’s wheels grind to a halt on the sand, and there he sits, watching you retreat further and further into the darkness with a limp to your step and one hand cupped over your wounded shoulder.

The Prime’s matrix is roiling in his chest.

Heaving a mechanical sigh, he sinks on his metal struts and pulls up the last few minutes of conversation to the forefront of his processor.

With your face now undoubtedly fixed in Knockout’s crosshairs, there’s no question that you’re already more involved than he ever intended for you to be. Guilt… isn’t something he should dwell on. But the tears in your eyes… put there by Optimus himself…

The engine of a great semi-truck roars to life, and the metal titan carefully backs out onto the road behind him, never once taking his optics off the tiny figure in front of him as it disappears into an old, tumbledown farmhouse.

#I need to proof read this when I get back #Optimus Prime #Transformers #Reader #Fluff #protective Optimus #Whump #Worry wart #Dadtimus Prime #hurt/comfort

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parkerpeter24 · 1 year ago

Note

this is my idea for the spider-man x fangirl thing

so peter and reader are best friends and reader always talks about how much she loves spider-man and peter always rolls his eyes and acts annoyed even though deep down it makes him happy. then one day reader was walking at night when she got like robbed or something and gets saved by spider-man. he swings her to someplace safe and when she calms down she starts freaking out that she met spider-man . you can add more but idk i’m not good at this but that’s jus like an idea??

let’s hope you guys enjoy this.

pairing ➳ peter parker x reader.

masterlist

“so you don’t think it’s like, a fifth date kind of revelation?” you asked peter as the two of you walked on the pavement. when a reply didn’t come out of your best friend, you looked to the side, only to catch him giving you the same look of exasperation, “what? oh, come on. i’m not in love with him!”

“you’re in love with him.” he concluded, “why do you even wanna know who he is?”

“i don’t know, i’m just-”

“in love with him.” peter reiterated, forcing you to give him a glare to shut up.

“curious.” you said, rolling your eyes.

the two of you walked in silence for a while as you made your way towards delmar’s deli. you had decided to go to peter’s for today’s study session and you were ready to eat off his ear again talking about spider-man. and he knew. he’d seen the new video of himself– the link to which you’d sent him– fighting off four guys at the same time.

you kept him updated on spider-man and even though he pursed his lips and rolled his eyes whenever you started getting all giddy about the new news, the only people who knew you had a crush on peter– well, spider-man– were himself and ned.

after getting your favorite sandwiches, you both made your way to peter’s place, a few blocks away. once you were inside, you made a beeline for his room, setting down your backpack on his bed.

“that’s new.” peter pointed, noticing the pop socket stuck to your mobile cover. you looked at it and nodded.

“there was only one left. i had to buy it.” you grinned as you sat down, pulling out your books.

“if you would just admit it, you’re obsessed.” peter chuckled, sitting down beside you.

“am not.” you raised your eyebrows.

“are too.” peter retaliated, making you roll your eyes at him again, “come on, it’s not a bad thing.”

you shrugged, “i just admire him.”

it was pretty late at night when you left his place, may was yet to come back and you missed her trying to make you stay for dinner. putting your hands in either pockets of your jacket, you began your walk to your place.

but just a few blocks down and you spotted a man in dark grey hoodie and torn jeans. you tried to walk past him but got worried when he started following you. as your steps quickened, his did too. just as you were about to run, the guy held your arm, pulling you into an alley.

you were shocked, he had pointed a knife right at your exposed neck. you tried not to move as he gave you an intimidating look, “hand me your money and we’re even.”

you trembled, trying to open your mouth. your mouth came out shakey, “p-please, i have nothing- j-just books.”

you felt the cold metal pressing against your skin, the slightest sting on your neck as you gulped, closing your eyes as tears pooled in them.

the next few seconds were very confusing. you were free, the pressure on your arm and disappearing as you heard a ‘thwip’. the knife was yanked out of the robber’s hand, and he got a kick to the side of his rib, making him fly further into the alley.

you gasped as your saviour landed in front of you, robotic eyes squinting at the guy, “come on, dude! ‘no’ means no.”

he yelled towards the guy before turning to you, noticing the tears in your eyes, “hey... are you okay? ...miss.”

your mouth opened, then closed. then opened. then closed again.

“it’s okay. i think you’re star-struck.” he tried to ease the tension. you noticed he moved his hands a lot.

“um... thank you for... knocking that guy out.” you wiped away your face and touched your neck, feeling the smallest cut, “i wasn’t planning on getting killed tonight.”

“you should clean that up.” you noticed he moved his hands a lot when he talked. it made your heart flutter a little. on the same night, the superhero had managed to save your life and make you feel all warm just by being the way you’d imagined him from the youtube videos.

you nodded at him, “i will...”

“you can call me spider-man.” he shrugged and you liked the idea that he might have been smiling at you under the mask. you noticed that he was making his voice sound thicker, putting on a heavy accent, but you tried to ignore it, following that he was in a full body spandex suit.

“i will, spider-man.” you smiled back.

“i... could walk you to the home.” he offered, almost immediately adding, “just to make sure you’re safe!”

you nodded your head, “well, unless you have to go save someone else...”

“i’m free for now.” he chuckled as as started leading the way.

as the two of you walked, a silence overtook the atmosphere. you tried to scan your brain for something, just so you could avoid the awkwardness, “i’m a big fan, by the way.”

peter wanted to laugh at your giddy voice. he’d never heard you be this shy around him– which, now that he thought, was making him a bit jealous of his alter ego, “thanks! just doing my job as the friendly neighborhood spider-man.”

once the two of you had reached your apartment complex, you faced the superhero, “thank you, spider-man.”

he did a little salute with two of his fingers, “glad to help.” and with that he took off, swinging away from you.

you sighed softly, feeling a little disappointed at his departure. you went inside and texted peter immediately– characters mismatched and all caps as you typed– ‘THETES NO WAY YPURE GONNA BELIEVE EHAT HAPPED!!!’

peter chuckled, watching the texts come through on his screen as he sat atop your building.

the brunette sighed softly, “man, tomorrow’s gonna be a long day.”

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #mcu peter parker #mcu spiderman #tasm peter parker #tasm peter x reader #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #peter parker x you

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thatanimewriter · 7 months ago

Text

CAT'S OUTTA THE BAG.

➳ request: i can see you've almost hit the 20 request limit, so i hope this one still gets in in time 👀 can i request claude von riegan, dimitri alexandre blaiddyd, dedue molinaro, felix fraldarius and ashe ubert (seperately) sneaking out at night to meet up with the reader (preferably genderneutral), who they are secretly dating and getting caught by their friends/a friend? hope you have a lovely day and take care! <3

➳ character/s: claude von riegan, dimitri alexandre blaiddyd, dude molinaro, felix fraldarius, ashe ubert

➳ warnings: kissing and cringe love stuff, implied aftercare (dedue), use of darling (ashe)

➳ notes: SLAYYYY i love this request ;v; some of them don't technically catch y'all, they just figure it out

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 / 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 / 𝐰𝐢𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

── 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐍.

hilda caught you guys because she was sus of you guys for ages and claude wasn't giving her anything

ended up staying up late to 'do work' and heard you guys talking in hushed voices

desperately tried to open her door without it making that giant ass creak

claude didn't really care if she caught you guys, he wasn't ashamed of you

he just didn't want to make it super public so you'd both get bothered by people

"i knew it!" hilda whisper screamed, pointing at you both with the utmost betrayal. "ah, you got us," claude said, shrugging casually and draping an arm around your waist to pull you close. "can't tell anyone though, i'll make a courtyard announcement about that one time at the ball-" "fine, fine," hilda sighed. "how long have you guys been dating?" you glanced at claude to ask if it was ok to tell and he squeezed your side lightly for permission. "nearly a year," you admitted. "WHAT?!" "shush, people are trying to sleep," claude tutted, shaking his head disapprovingly.

── 𝐃𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐑𝐈 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐘𝐃.

he's not slick, he's too awkward that dedue figured it out ages ago but decided not to say anything

he got asked about it while weeding the lawns and turned bright red the whole time

dedue really didn't care, he just wanted to know if there was a second person he needed to look out for

on behalf of his king, he might have to protect you as well

dimitri would appreciate it but he likes being your saviour :))

"you're dating [name], right?" dedue asked monotonously as he carded through the grass looking for weeds. "what? no... we're not together- not that i would hate it, but-" "i saw you both last night," he interrupted. "under the stars." dimitri's face burned at the notion of getting caught with his partner on a date, but he continued to work on his weeding. "don't tell anyone, please..." dedue smirked at dimitri's embarrassment and nodded. "looks like i'll be needing to protect someone else as well." "that'd be appreciated, but i'd like it if they didn't need such protection if i'm around," dimitri admitted, covering his face with his hand.

── 𝐃𝐄𝐃𝐔𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐎.

it was ashe who caught him actually

dedue was cooking something for you that night cause you pestered him to stay the night

ashe came in for a late night snack and saw dedue cooking and was confused because dedue doesn't like the thing he's making

turns out he's making it for youuu

ashe doesn't get it entirely but honestly doesn't want to know do he gets his snack, says goodnight and goes to bed

"dedue?" ashe called softly, holding a candlelit lamp in his hand. dedue turned from his work to look at the smaller boy with a gentle smile. "ah, what are you doing this late?" ashe laughed awkwardly as he made his way to the cabinets. "i could ask you the same thing," he responded. "i just wanted a midnight snack." dedue hummed at ashe's answer as he dished your food into a bowl and moved to quickly wash the pans. "isn't that [name]'s favourite?" ashe wondered, staring at the bowl. "indeed. they wanted something to eat, so i took it upon myself to get them their favourite," dedue explained. ashe nodded slowly as he processed the information. "so... are you guys dating?" he wondered. the silver-haired man simply smiled in response.

── 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒.

he will skin sylvain alive if he ever blabs to anyone about your relationship

he can't be caught being soft, even just a little bit-

y'all are hanging in the markets n he saw you looking at a necklace one of the merchants was selling

he went back to buy it for you, but not without sylvain coming along and ruining it

mans isn't happy about being discovered

"hey man, didn't you already come to the markets earlier today with [name]?" sylvain asked, following behind felix as they mulled about the stalls. "does it matter?" felix bit back, shoving the red-head by the shoulder. he stopped in front of the stall you'd found the necklace at and forced himself to suppress a relieved sigh. "oh, that's the necklace they were telling me about at lunch today," sylvain commented. his jaw dropped as felix picked it up and handed the money to the merchant. "wait, are you guys a thing? is that why you've been staying out late?" "shut up." "dang," sylvain ran a hand through his hair with disappointment. "i was gonna ask them to dance with me at the ball, too- OW!" the man doesn't think his arm will ever feel the same way again.

── 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓.

he's so in love with you, you're obligated to marry this man because i said so

he's meeting up with you to have night time picnics, but oops-

ignatz is there painting the scenery, but IT'S OK

you'll get a cool cute painting of yourselves made by ignatz himself by the end of the night

he won't ever tell on you guys though, so your secret is safe and you get free art

"hello darling," ashe greeted, pulling you in for a hug after he set the picnic basket down. "are you ok?" you nodded and leaned in to give him a chaste kiss. "mhmm. did you make dinner tonight? it smells nice." he smiled at your compliment and laid the picnic blanket down for you to sit. "i did, i tried to get here as fast as possible so it'd still be warm enough," he said, settling in beside you. as the night passed and you began finishing your date, you both froze at the sound of footsteps. looking to the source, you awkwardly smiled as ignatz emerged from the trees. "i'm so sorry for not announcing myself, but i came out here to paint and ended up with this..." ignatz shyly handed you his fresh painting, warning you about the wet paint. you and ashe smiled softly at the image and thanked him for the painting. "i won't tell anyone, i promise!"

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birdpersonz · 9 months ago

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i made more hehe

ignore the fact i cant draw hands

#art #drawing #adventure forward #adventure forward 2 #adventure forward redux #af2poc #signol #compale #stratosfear #anshine #stratoshine #im a stratoshine shipper dont @ me unless its wholesome ship stuff #or angst #i quite like angst #second star saviour #second star savior #i spelt it twice for you funky americans

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sunsetkerr · 1 year ago

Text

THE TRADE | s.kerr

summary: as your afl season ends, your contract is up- leaving you, the hottest player in the aflw, up for grabs.

pairing: aflw!reader x sam kerr

notes: part one here!

yourinstagram

liked by samanthakerr20, crowsaflw and 18,398 others yourinstagram our third flag, so proud to have spent the last five years with this team. ytfg 💪💪

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samanthakerr20 the only time I will accept you not wearing a west coast guernsey is now ❤️❤️ so proud, go the crows!! ↳ yourinstagram screenshotting this and sending it to west coast right now

crowsaflw we love you #1 ↳ yourinstagram ❤️

user no because im so happy

user they need to resign her ↳ user shes a free agent, meaning whoever bids the most is most likely where she will go ↳ user she can't leave the crows 💔

alannakennedy casually winning flags ↳ yourinstagram its a constant tbh

alexchidiac10 loving the hat in the second pic ↳ yourinstagram its sam's dads 💪 ↳ samanthakerr20 roger was robbed

aflwupdates

liked by user, caitlinfoord and 7,281 others aflwupdates BREAKING NEWS: Adelaide Crows star, Y/N L/N, is officially a free agent. After winning her 3rd flag with the southern club, L/N's contract has not been renewed and she is rumoured to be looking for a new club. It is unknown whether Adelaide is negotiating a new contract with their star forward.

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user im losing it, she can't leave ↳ user I wouldn't be surprised, she doesn't live in Adelaide so it might be easier to go to a club closer to home ↳ user where does she live? ↳ user y/n has a home in perth with her wife sam and their daughter, but flies between perth, adelaide and london (where sam and y/n also have a house) for sam's football

caitlinfoord sick pic though @yourinstagram ↳ yourinstagram ffs caitlin ↳ user caitlin can't resist putting her foot in it 😭 ↳ yourinstagram literally this is my life, come get your dog please @mackenziearnold @alannakennedy

yourinstagram

liked by samanthakerr20, maryfowlerrr and 26,387 others yourinstagram in the off season we party (tillies style)

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mackenziearnold matildas 🤝 the crows ↳ yourinstagram party animals

user SAM AND Y/N HAVE MATCHING TATTOOS??? ↳ samanthakerr20 disgusting really

user seeing the girls let their hair down is so refreshing

user y/n looks in no condition to have caitlin foord on her shoulders, that is one expensive woman y/n- don't drop her please ↳ yourinstagram if I did it wouldn't be an accident

matildas see you at training tomorrow morning ladies!! ↳ maryfowlerrr I can't go out.. I'm sick

samanthakerr20 you little rager, you look so good in that shirt ↳ yourinstagram its 100% off (a sam kerr exclusive discount) ↳ samanthakerr20 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

user we are all freaking out about her trade and she's out here getting off her face with her wife's team mates 😭😭

crowsaflw

liked by yourinstagram, samanthakerr20 and 9,290 others crowsaflw it is with great sorrow we announce the departure of our superstar y/n l/n. five long years with the best, she will be missed on and off the field. truly a force to be reckoned with ❤️ we will miss you, forever our #1.

samanthakerr20

liked by yourinstagram, amysayer_ and 739,298 others samanthakerr20 she's off to continue to do great things ❤️ proud.

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user its so weird seeing them all lovey and not all I hate you ↳ yourinstagram dont worry its weird for me too

crowsaflw our girl! ↳ user but like.. not anymore... ↳ user too soon

kyracooneyx my lord and saviour ↳ charlotte_grant all hail mrs l/n-kerr

samanthakerr20 realising this photo kinda makes it look like you're dead xx ↳ yourinstagram sometimes when im with you I wish I was xxxxxx

yourinstagram

liked by samanthakerr20, aflw and 18,388 others yourinstagram the new diggs

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user STOP ITS OPTUS, SHE'S GONE TO WA

user omg shes going to west coast or freo

optusstadium so happy to have you!

samanthakerr20 who says diggs? ↳ yourinstagram literally shut the fuck up

mackenziearnold physically cannot sit still right now ↳ yourinstagram right now or ever?

user y/n literally tell us, tell us right now

westcoastaflw

liked by samanathakerr20, yourinstagram and 11,938 others westcoastaflw welcoming our new #1!! @yourinstagram blue and gold looks very good on you, don't you agree @samanthakerr20?

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samanthakerr20 DAMNNNNNN 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

samanthakerr20 can finally watch one of your games without wanting to vomit looking at your guernsey 🤤🤤🤤🤤 ↳ yourinstagram 💙💛

user I cannot breathe

user sam got what she wanted 😭😭 ↳ yourinstagram she always does unfortunately

roxykerr20 thank goodness we didn't invest in any crows merchandise 😂 ↳ yourinstagram you never would roxy 😌 I did this solely for you and roger ↳ samanthakerr20 I'll just jump off a cliff then x love you babe

#one shots . * • .#sam kerr one shot #sam kerr x reader #sam kerr imagine #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso x reader

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evangeline0731 · 6 months ago

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“im gay” “im straight” ok??? I am part of a group of celestial beings called the points??? I have summoned you here because I believe that you are the second coming of the star saviour???

#adventure forward #cyalm #cyalm af2 #adventure forward 2

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thisautistic · 2 months ago

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15 day bl challenge (part 1) day 13

GIVE 5 GOOD BOYS GOLD STARS

#1 PETE - KINNPORSCHE

if we're talking about good boys #1 has absolutely gotta be my man pete. my man suffered more than jesus christ but he got his man and his hea in the end. we stan so hard it hurts

2. JOE - MY STAND-IN

speaking of men who have suffered more than jesus.... gotta go with joe in second here. my man deserves the world

3. PISAENG - BE MY FAVORITE

Pisaeng gets a gold star for being the best boyfriend to ever live and for putting up with all of Kawi's shit

4. JAO - SECRET CRUSH ON YOU

sweet sweet jao. best bestie there ever was. also my man got the boy of his dreams he's SUCH a good boy

5. JACK - JACK & JOKER U STEAL MY HEART

this good boy has everything: a saviour complex, self-sacrificial behaviour, unbreakable morals.

#kinnporsche #jack & joker u steal my heart #vegaspete #my stand in #mingjoe #jackjoke #be my favorite #pisaengkawi #skyjao #secret crush on you #thai bl #thai ql #asianlgbtqdramas

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https-furina · 1 year ago

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✎ that poor birdy. ft. xiao x gn!reader content. fluff, a little hurt/comfort, naive (?) reader - they don’t know xiao isn’t human :p a little bit of xiao falling in love while being really inexperienced with it. mentions of xiao as a birdy ! not proofread 'm sorry >~< w.c. 1.5k words

notes. uuuuuuuu i loves him so much ;; santa pls can i has him under my nonexistent tree this year taglist. @ryuryuryuyurboat @soleillunne @rainswept

you followed the routine meticulously whenever you needed it, which was usually always when the inspiration runs dry from your veins. it stumps you every time, being in that scenario as a member of the wanwen bookhouse in liyue harbor. you never particularly want xingqiu chasing after you on whether you have any new material to publish.

the idea was first proposed in its early stages by a close friend - at least, that’s what you call him. you had been grumbling over a cup of steaming hot tea, head in your hands as you whined to xiao about an upcoming deadline.

“why don’t you travel for inspiration?” he had suggested and within seconds, your face had lit up. you stared at him with glittering eyes, a hopeful glimpse into your future right before you. xiao shifted nervously under your gaze, his gloved hands cupping his own cup of tea as he glanced away, the tips of ears feeling warm.

suddenly you would start disappearing for days, sometimes even weeks as the birth of your new found routine began. it was the saviour of your writer’s block, filling you to the brim with stories and poetry that everyone at the wanwen bookhouse fawned over. xiao never pondered where you would run off to, in all fairness he assumed you was prancing off to mondstadt, sumeru and even inazuma.

he never chased you up on it. after all, his suggestion had merely been a case of him trying to get the oddly clingy human that appeared from nowhere off his back for more than a day. your presence suffocates him as a yaksha and he takes your absence in his stride yet he leans against the railing of his room at wangshu inn, staring out at the endless stars all clustered together on a backdrop of indigo and he sees how your eyes glittered that day, like you had captured the stars and put them in your eyes. almost like fireflies in a glass jar.

xiao did however presume you was at least obsessed - his words, you simply call it a normal friendship - with him enough to bring back trinkets from your adventures but you come back empty handed each time with only a proud grin on your face as you dump your newest works onto the male. part of him is glad that you don’t, after all gifting on such a level outside of special occasions could come off as mating to the male bird. the other part of him - the humanoid part of him - wishes you would do it at least once to fill the empty void in his heart left from centuries of avoiding contact with people.

the kitchen at the wangshu inn is usually busy around this time of day as workers gather for their lunch break or couples take a leisurely stroll across the guili plains whilst liyue’s weather remains so warm and tender, humid to the touch with a cool breeze. xiao knows this well from how long he’s resided at the very top of the inn, where the breeze catches just right and rustles golden leaves above his head. the noise brought by the mortal world’s lunchtime would soon cease and he’d be left in the solace he craves so desperately to ease his pains; that is disregarding the fact that xiao finds the kitchen too noisy on this day.

someone jogging up the steps is enough for xiao to hide, after all he’s not expecting visitors nor does anyone ever seek him out on purpose now but he catches sight of your familiar head of hair and the waft of almond tofu through the leaves, the plate held carefully in your hands. he tries to make his sudden appearance calm, as if he’d always been there - you’re too innocent to put together myth to reality, even with his mask tucked securely to his hip.

“you’re back again,” he comments, gold eyes watching you carefully as you spin on your heel to face him, your initial look of confusion ebbing away at the sight of him, “almond tofu?”

“i figured i’d come back with a gift, at least,” you chime with a grin, holding out the plate to him. seeing your smile after a few days affects xiao more than he’d care to admit, his stomach filled with the odd sensation of butterflies - and a gift? “i remember you saying you liked almond tofu.”

the pale skin of his cheeks seems to flush with a subtle hue of pink causing the yaksha to flicker his glance away from you as he takes the plate of almond tofu, mumbling his thanks. what was this feeling? his brows almost knit together in confusion; could it be karmic debt? perhaps your presence as a mortal human was finally taking its toll on him. xiao parts his lips to excuse himself from your vicinity, wondering if he could gather some believable lies to get you off his back but he stares at the small details on your face and how you still smell like parchment and ink instead.

xiao moves away from you - albeit a little reluctantly - to the table presented neatly with two chairs by the railing, hidden in the shade of wangshu inn's great auburn tree. he settles in one of the chairs, clearing his throat as he watches you lean against the aforementioned railing.

"so where did you go gallivanting off to this time?" he asks curiously, taking small bites of the almond tofu you'd presented to him. it comes to him that he's never once asked where you go when you disappear from him and apparently the question catches you off guard when he glimpses how your eyes seem to widen a little in surprise, processing his sudden interest in your adventures.

"oh! i was camping out at qingyun peak again!" you lean back against the railing, letting liyue's breeze tickle your skin like a warm breath fanning down your neck. xiao pauses mid-bite, golden eyes blinking in bewilderment as he gazes at you. was that all? he furrows his brows, after all he had truly expected you to be going abroad to new lands for your inspiration - he's even more caught off guard by how you said again… so it wasn't your first time?

"is that all?" he voices aloud, listening to the sound of your sweet laugh on the wind at his response. the strange feeling in his stomach turns again and he almost drops the almond tofu on his spoon, clearing his throat as he looks away from you quickly. these feelings were not painful for him, he begins to realise in turn. the heat of his ears and the way his neck and cheeks soon matched their temperatures, the shake of his gloved hands and how his stomach felt like it was flipping - these were not associated with pain nor karma, confusing the yaksha further.

"eeyup!" you pop the 'p,' grinning over at him before looking up at the roof of wangshu inn, noting the numerous bird nests filled with eggs before you remember something you wished to bring up to him, "but i heard a little birdy calling out during the night, it sounded so sad."

xiao hums in response, turning his focus back to the almond tofu he was finding the most delectable - if you had made it like he assumed, you truly was an amazing cook. he considers voicing that thought out loud before he realises you are mumbling about the small bird you'd heard and xiao begins to ponder what type of bird you must have heard. in the middle of night and at qingyun peak… the more he thinks about it, he soon chokes on the tofu he was chewing. he clears his throat to cover his embarrassment, hiding his face as he waves you off when you rush to his side.

you'd heard him. xiao's heart races, thumping against his ribcage at how he gets himself out of this situation. how would he even begin to explain that the bird is lamenting, calling for its dead friends that will never return? his eyelashes flutter shut for a moment.

"i'm sure the bird is fine." he tries to reassure once he has finished chewing the tofu. you give him a thankful smile at his reassurance, settling in the chair opposite him with a drastic sigh.

"i hope so… that poor birdy," you go quiet for a moment, gaze drifted off into the distance in thought and xiao takes the moment to recollect himself, leaning back in his chair as he admires you subtly. you really was starting to become a pain for him, "you'll have to join me next time so you can hear it! you seem to know a lot about birds, xiao - maybe we can go find it!"

xiao grimaces but he doesn't let it show, a crack of a smile on his face at the sentiment behind you caring so much for this bird; caring for him, without ever realising it. perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to let you a little closer, after all these pains weren't hurting him.

"i'll have to take you up on that offer." he muses, fixing his gloves as a wide beam brightens up your face. oh, what a grave he has dug for himself.

#( sealed letters )#xiao genshin #xiao genshin impact #xiao fluff #xiao x reader fluff #xiao #genshin xiao #xiao x reader #genshin #genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin x reader #https-furina

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