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reputationbarbie · 11 months

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duke oneshot pls 🙏 (not smut)

Agora Hills - duke dennis x reader

─⋆♡ an: based on this ask. for future reference if you have a request, specify smut or no smut like this person did or imma do whatever tf i want. y'all can't cap, i've been on a fucking roll this weekend. hopefully y'all like it. ★ ˙ᵕ˙ liv

─⋆♡ summary: you and duke are in an established relationship. he decides to surprise you and ball the fuck out.

─⋆♡ warnings: dual pov (the pov changes with the pink headers, the divider gifs just mean a bit of time has passed), language, all fluff no smut, softdom!duke (he doesn't like when the reader talks back), 18+ black!writer, alcohol, physical descriptors (brief)

⋆word count: 4.5k ⋆ masterlist ⋆

y/n

I jolt out of sleep, and the feeling of the cool air of the hotel room kicks on. Duke’s hand rubbing my leg makes me relax a little, and my eyes move to him, seeing that he's still right where he was when I fell asleep.

“Hey, baby. Time to wake up,” he says quietly, kissing me on the cheek, and then he returns his attention to his phone.

I yawn, looking up at him, recalling that he’s probably been working all night. He doesn’t look like he slept much, making me feel worse. “How long have you been awake?” He needs to prioritize his sleep.

Duke shifts, pulling me further up so he can rub my ass. “It’s 7:30 a.m., so 30 minutes. I already got up and showered,” he explains and I look up at his freshly moisturized skin.

I inhale his cologne and hum. He smells so fucking good. I grumble, annoyed at how early it is. He takes notice and spanks me lightly, and I gasp at his forwardness. “Duke, you did not just slap my ass,” I scold.

His laugh reverberates through his chest. “Yes, the fuck I did. Let me worry about you, not the other way around,” he matter-of-factly states.

I roll my eyes and sigh. “But I'm supposed to worry about you, too. It’s supposed to be equal.” I’m making valid points here.

Duke slips out from under me, standing up. He puts his hands up in defense, and he turns to walk into the bathroom and turns the shower on. I crawl to the end of the bed, stand up, and follow him into the bathroom where he’s leaning on the wall with his arm on top of the small door. Straightening, he extends his hand and pulls me into the bathroom.

“Take your time, babe. Call me if you need me,” he instructs and leans down to kiss me before brushing past me and exiting the bathroom.

My eyes watch him as he goes, drinking him in. I know he already showered, but some part of me wants him to just stand in the shower with me and hold me.

“Are you sure I look okay?” I ask Duke for the hundredth time in the last hour, holding his hand to stabilize myself as I descend the steps of the hotel.

He puts his hand on the small of my back when I’m grounded, and gently pushes me forward towards a truck near the entrance. “Yes, baby. You always look beautiful,” he responds, opening the passenger door, and extending his hand again so I can use it to climb in.

I slide into the seat and turn my head towards him, raising my eyebrows. “So that’s a no, then?” He rolls his eyes, reaching in to put the seatbelt on me. “I got it,” I snap, putting my hand on his arm. I fucking hate when he does the child thing.

Duke doesn’t say anything, just turns around to the two men who I hadn't noticed, letting me finish buckling myself. One is holding a big pastry box, and the other is holding two drinks. Duke takes the items from them, putting the box in my lap first, and then the iced drink into my hand. “I didn’t know we had security today,” I grumble. They slide into the back seat silently and I shift a bit.

Not that I mind it, I just know that the surprise will be public. “Where we’re going, we’ll need it,” he tells me before shutting the door.

As he jogs around to his side of the truck, I take a sip of the brown liquid, throwing my head back to moan as the drink washes down my throat. Bringing the cup up to my face, I look at the label that’s on the side. An iced vanilla latte with almond milk. One thing I love about Duke is that he always gets my coffee order correct. I smile and continue to sip.

Duke slides into the driver's seat, putting his drink in the cup holder. “You haven’t had your coffee, so I won’t spank you for that little attitude just a second ago.” He smirks at me and starts the truck.

Fuck. I am so fucked. I want nothing more than to straddle him right now and say fuck the surprise. But, there are two security guards in the back seat effectively stopping me from having any extra fun.

I look down at the box, noticing a giant donut with pink icing and lots of sprinkles.

“That’s your hint, baby. You’ll probably get it before I even drive off.” He smirks again, shifting the truck into drive.

I gasp in realization: warm weather, huge pink donut you can only get at one place, lots of walking…

“You are not taking me to Universal Studios for the surprise.” I whip my head over to him, eyes going wide and excitement bubbling beneath the surface. I feel like my ability to function has left this vehicle.

Duke turns at me and grins, leaning over to plant a kiss on my cheek. “You’re damn right I am, baby. Now, eat your donut.” He puts his free hand around the back of my neck, and I feel my body melting into him.

The biggest grin takes over my face as he starts driving. This is going to be the best surprise ever.

duke

My girlfriend is practically hyperventilating as I pull the car into the parking lot at Universal Studios. I turn to look at her, and she’s squirming and squealing in her seat.

“Do we need to go through the five senses again, baby? Or are you good?” I inquire, fearing that I’ve completely jump-started her heart. Whenever she gets like this, we use the grounding technique so she can calm herself down.

She whips her head in my direction with the cutest smile on her face. “I’m good, baby. I’m just really excited.” She leans over the console to kiss me, and I know I’m going to be spoiling her for the rest of our lives.

She reaches down to undo her belt and I pull the handle, stepping out of the car. As soon as I open her door, I notice she’s looking over my shoulder. She’s seemingly weary of the two big men coming with us, so I lean in to speak into her ear. “They won't bother us, baby. They’re just here to make sure niggas don’t talk to you,” I reassure her before helping her slide out of the truck.

She places her hand and mine and we begin walking towards the entrance. “It would be you they’re talking to and we both know it,” she says.

“I don’t know about that. They practically foam at the mouth every time you’re on a stream,” I tell her, lightly swinging our hands between us.

She scoffs, flipping her long her over her shoulder. “I think you’re forgetting about filming the vlogs. Women love being in that shit,” she complains.

I smirk and lead her over to the entrance–it took everything I had not to rent the park out for her today. “We’re not filming today. I’m focusin’ on you. And I love yo ass,” I try to reassure her jealous side.

She reaches her hand up and smushes my face together. “I love you too, Dukey,” she smiles before placing a quick kiss on my lips.

Once we get through security, I lace my fingers with hers again. “What do you wanna do first?” I place a kiss on her hand, feeling her shake with excitement.

She starts bouncing up and down, her breathing picking up once again. “Can we pretty please do Harry Potter stuff first?? Everything else if we have time. I really wanna come back for the light show! Oooo! Der, can we please go get Butterbeer and Lemon Sherbets?? And then we can ride the Incredible Hulk roller coaster! PLEASE, Please, please, please-” She's speaking so fast that I end up kissing her to shut her up. I can't get in a word any other way.

She moans in my mouth, and I grip her ass, pressing her front to me. She’s so fucking hot when she’s passionate.

My hands fly up onto her shoulder to stop her incessant bouncing. “Yeah. One thing at a time, though.” I exhale. Her brain moves a million miles per second, and it’s impressive she’s been able to keep all those thoughts in her head since we got into the car and she found out where we were going.

Our private guide ushers us to the cart which drives us straight through the New York and San Francisco attractions. When she spots the Knight Bus, she begins bouncing again in her seat. “Duke, Duke! Let’s talk to it!” She has a twinkle in her eye as she cheers at me.

The cart stops and the security guards get off before us. I extend her hand for her to slide out and stand behind me. Although I have a hat and sunglasses on, if anyone notices us, I don’t want her to be bombarded.

She tugs on my arm and I look back at her bug-eyed face, chuckling at her excitement. “Alright, baby. You want me to record you?” Leaning down, I kiss her on the cheek.

The pupils in her hazel eyes dilate. “Yeah,” she chirps and I pull my phone out of my back pocket, getting it ready.

I film her, amused by her excitement. Then, my girlfriend does something that shocks the absolute shit out of me. “Excuse me, can you point me in the direction of Diagon Alley?” she asks the park employees in a British accent.

Holy shit, who knew British accents were this hot? I have got to remember that for later.

The shrunken head turns in her direction, and I zone out. “Right through that broken brick, little witch.”

It’s been stream after stream. 24/7 content. I’m fucking tired and I just needed a fun day with her. I black out as she finishes the rest of her conversation with the conductor and shrunken head.

My baby girl waves a hand in front of my face and brings me back. “Dukey, baby…” she calls, and I snap my eyes in her direction.

I breathe in to center myself before smirking down at her. “I’m here.” My hand moves to her neck. “Just thinking about how a ring would look on your finger the next time you wave your fucking hand in front of my face.”

She blushes, and looks down at the ground, kicking her feet. “Duke, you know I don’t believe in marriage…” She lets her words trail off as we continue to walk toward the brick wall.

No, I most certainly did not know that. I reach down to yank on her hand, stopping her dead in her tracks before she can take out her phone and start recording for social media.

“What do you mean you don’t believe in marriage?” I press, raising my eyebrow. Fuck, we haven’t had this conversation yet. I just assumed.

She tugs my arm, urging me to keep walking, but my feet stay firmly planted. “I mean, I believe in a life partner. It’s just that I see marriage as more of a business contract,” she explains, refusing to make eye contact with me. “Like, if anything happened to me or you, we’d have a say in each other’s affairs.” Shrugging, she turns to walk towards the broken brick wall without me.

I jog to catch up with her, putting my hand on the small of her back. Okay, so she would marry me. “So when I ask you to marry me, you’ll say yes?” I grumble, unsure of what her response will be. She’s the one I want. I want her to be my life partner, my wife, or whatever she deems appropriate.

She giggles, spinning around to kiss me as we enter Diagon Alley. “Duke, I’d marry you if you ask me.” Her breathing picks up again as she turns around and takes in the attractions. “Duke… DUKEY! DUKEY!” she shrieks, slapping her hands on my arm. “It looks so real!!” She begins bouncing up and down again, grabbing my face to turn it in the direction she wants me to look in, smashing it until my lips are puckered. If I asked her to stop, I don’t think she would.

I'm too lost in my thoughts anyway. I’m going to marry her and give her at least 5 children. I wanna show her off to the world as long as I live.

She tugs on my arm, pulling me out of my trance and further into Diagon Alley. Suddenly, we’re stopped in our tracks by a younger group of boys. “Excuse me, are you Duke?” one of them asks.

I look at Y/N for permission and she smiles and nods. “What’s going on my boy,” I link my hands with each of theirs and shake up.

A woman steps forward behind them with her phone out, already recording. “They’re so nervous to meet you,” she says behind them and I assume she’s their mom.

I become uncomfortable finding out she’s already recording before asking. Lady you’re fucking grown, you should know better. Before I can fume at the bitch, my girlfriend puts her hand on the small of my back. “Oh, he’s nice. You wanna take a picture with him?” she asks the group.

They collectively sound off yes’s and she stands on her tip toes to talk to me. “Here let me get out the way,” she says, knowing the fans probably don’t want her in it.

But I don’t give a fuck. She’s with me and the world should know that. I want to show her off every moment I get. “No, I want you in it,” I tell her, wrapping my arm around her and pulling her into my side.

“Baby it’s okay. Trust me,” she murmurs, pushing off of me and standing next to the mother.

She snaps a couple of pictures of me and the guys in different poses before lowering her phone and showing off her odd smile. If it weren’t for the kids and my girlfriend, I would’ve put her in her place. “Thank you,” I hear one of the kids say.

I shake up with him one last time, ruffling his curly head. “You’re welcome, big dog. Nice to meet y’all,” I say.

“Bye, Duke!” another screams and it warms my heart. This is why the fuck I do this shit.

My eyes wander up and catch with my girlfriends. She beckons me towards her and I trail behind her as she enters Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and her eyes widen when she spots a purple pygmy puff. “Dukey, Dukey! I need it!” she squeals, jumping up and down. The security guard tries his hardest to keep up with her as she sprints across the room, picking it up and squeezing it in her arms.

I sigh and pull out my black Amex card, before grabbing her hand and slapping it down. “Get whatever you want, baby,” I mutter, closing her fingers around it.

Her jaw drops and she looks down at her hand, then back up to me. “You’re fucking with me,” she retorts, shoving her hand back in my direction with it open.

I close her hand again, and shove it back towards her, “I’m being for real. Whatever you want from here on out is on me.”

She blushes at my words and I smirk, taking a step forward to kiss her soft lips. “I wanna spoil you, baby. I want you to be happy and enjoy yourself.” Hopefully, she just takes the damn card and stops arguing.

I spin her around and push her toward the cash register. She sets down the plushie and waits patiently for the cashier to finish ringing the item up. When the employee tells her where to put the card, she freezes as if the card will bite her. Cute. She feels bad for “taking” my money. She could ask me to buy her a private plot of land for her garden, and I’d have it done in seconds.

I come up behind her, towering over her small frame, and help her push the card into the chip reader. When the pin prompt comes up, I don’t cover the code. What’s mine is hers–now and forever. The machine beeps, but she doesn’t move to grab the card. So I release her hand, leaning over until my lips touch her ear. “Pull it out, baby,” I whisper into her ear, and she shudders.

Reaching to pull the card out, she silently smiles and thanks the cashier, before turning around and pushing both hands on my chest to pass me. I follow her out of the small gift shop into the street where she abruptly stops, whipping around and slamming the card onto my chest. I go to grab it when I notice her clenched jaw.

“I know better than to talk back to you, Duke. But so help me god, if you do that again, I’ll piss in the store and make you clean it up,” she seethes, her face turning red.

Fuck, she’s hot when she’s pissed off.

I throw my head back in laughter, sliding the card back into my wallet. Sage stomps her foot on the ground, grabbing my hand. “It’s not fucking funny, Dontavius,” she grumbles but pulls me into Quality Quidditch Supplies.

My eyes take a bit to adjust to the dark store. By the time they do, my girl is releasing my hand and going to grab a Slytherin backpack, whizzing around the store to grab more collectibles. I lean against the talking mirror for around 10 minutes before she comes up to me, sliding a heavy bag on my arm. Looking down, I see she’s grabbed a Slytherin tote bag and filled it with merchandise.

“You said I could buy whatever I want,” she shrugs, turning around to try on a Slytherin robe. She’s correct, and she’s got me by the balls.

She struggles to shrug on the robe, so I cross the small distance to help her, pulling it on around her. I step aside and she looks in the mirror. “You look like a bright young witch.” The automated voice compliments her, and she jumps, startled.

A chuckle erupts from my chest as I bring my hand to her back, rubbing it to soothe her. “Not a fucking Gryffindor,” I tease, smiling at her, and bring her into my side.

y/n

Three Wizard's Brews and some wand shopping later, I’m moaning while eating butterbeer ice cream. We’re waiting in line at King’s Cross Station with our Hogwarts robes on. I was proudly wearing my Slytherin ones. Meanwhile, I had to force Duke to buy a Gryffindor one and wear it just for me.

I scoop some of the ice cream up, holding the spoon to Duke’s lips. “Want some?” I ask with a childish grin on my face.

He leans down to take the spoon in his mouth, refusing to break the intense eye contact with me. I pull the spoon out of his mouth, and he swallows the ice cream. “It tastes sweet, just like you,” he murmurs in my ear, caressing my cheek with his hand.

Hoping it stuffs the urge to whine down my throat, I shove the last spoonful of ice cream into my mouth. “Dontavius,” I finally let slip, shifting to lean on my left leg.

He forcefully grabs the back of my neck, and I look around at the other people standing in line, nervous that they’re going to see him dominating the shit out of me right now. Our bodyguards don’t seem to notice which is the least I can be grateful for.

“What did I say about whining, Y/N?” His voice is so deep that I swear I can feel the vibrations in my spine.

Standing on my tiptoes in an attempt to save myself some embarrassment, I whisper into his ear, “You said if I whine, you’ll bend me over and give me something to whine about.” I know Duke won’t let up on my neck until I say the words.

He quietly groans, and releases his hold on me, leaning down to kiss my forehead. “I’m proud of you. You’re learning. Don’t do that shit,” He speaks so sternly that I know it’s not a threat–it’s a promise.

Shit, Shit, Shit. I’m so intoxicated by him right now.

His hand comes up to rest on the small of my back, ushering me forward in the line. I look down at the ice cream cup noticing it's crushed. Duke notices too, and takes the cup from my hands, tossing it perfectly into the trash can a couple feet away. He brings my finger up to his lips and slowly wraps his tongue around it, making me quietly moan. I never considered someone could have me weak in the knees, fully clothed at that. But here we are.

We make it to the front of the line and I lace my hand in Duke’s again, pulling him into the train. I go to Cabin F, where a group of teenagers sit inside, and walk in to see there’s only room for one of us to sit. Turning around, I hear the girls giggling behind me when Duke bends down to get through the door.

I put my hands on his chest, lightly pushing him. “Turn around, there’s no more room.”

Duke turns to slide the door to the cabin shut, shutting the guards out right behind the door. He sits down in the space before looking up at me with dark eyes. He sets the bag on the ground between his legs and pats his lap. “Looks like enough room to me, Y/N,” he declares, shrugging like it’s no big deal. He used my government name, which means ‘sit the fuck down.’

I turn to bunch up the robe in the back and grab my wand out of my pocket. As soon as I have it in my hands, Duke grabs my waist, pulling me forcefully down into his lap. He peppers kisses on my neck and it's definitely not helping with the intensity of haze in my brain.

duke

Y/N’s screams on the drop of the roller coaster put me on edge.

“Again, Dukey!” I turn to her and see that she's currently having the best adrenaline rush of her life.

She’s now five wizard brews in, and this is the third time we’ve been on The Incredible Hulk Coaster. She kicks and swings her legs, grinning at me, waiting for the ride to come to a stop. I look at my watch, seeing it’s well past 8:30. Earlier, she said that she wanted to watch the light show on Hogwarts Castle in Hogsmeade, so that means we should start heading over there now.

“Baby, you don’t wanna go back to Hogsmeade and watch the light show?” I all but beg, hoping this will get her, and me, off of this bitch ass rollercoaster.

My girlfriend continues squirming in her seat until the ride stops. “Ooo, Ooo. Yeah, let’s go back,” she exclaims as the attendant lets us out.

I get out first, turn to her, and lift her out of the safety seat. I set her down on the platform and grab her hand. The security guards keep some distance between us as we walk in silence for a little while, swinging our arms in between us. She spent the day experiencing everything this park had to offer. She’s had an endless amount of food, which I’m proud of her for. I’ve never seen her eat this much, and that eases my anxiety to know that she has a strong appetite.

She suddenly starts dragging her feet, walking slower than before. “I don’t wanna leave. And I’m tired, Dukey.” Her voice is so quiet that I barely hear her.

I stop walking, turning to stand in front of her. “You want a piggyback ride?”

She yawns, nodding.

Turning around to squat, she climbs onto my back. Once she’s secured, I continue the walk across the park to Hogsmeade. Her body goes somewhat limp, her head resting on my shoulder, and I know she's about to knock out. So, I walk into one of the shops and begin grabbing the souvenirs I know she wants.

When I get up to the counter, I shift and pull my wallet out of my front pocket. “Is she sleeping?” I ask the guard at the register, just to be sure. Y/N is so quiet and her breathing is so steady, so I assume she is, but I don’t turn back to look.

The cashier accepts the cash I give him, typing the amount into the register. “Yeah, she’s knocked out,” He chuckles, looking back and forth between her and me.

The cashier hands the guard a plastic bag with the receipt in it. “Sometimes she acts like the fucking energizer bunny in human form. But the energy eventually runs out,” I remark, tucking my wallet back into the front of my jeans.

“I feel you,” he snickers in response before we turn around to walk back out onto the cobblestone.

When I get in front of the castle with a good view, I tap my girl’s thigh. She stirs before burying her head further into my neck, groaning.

“Wake up, baby. It’s time to watch the light show,” I say melodically, trying to coax her out of her sleep.

She jerks on my back, tugging on my robe, signaling that she wants to be let down. “Thank you, Dukey,” she murmurs while sliding down my back.

Y/N comes around to stand in front of me, standing on her tiptoes to kiss me. Then, she turns back around and leans back with her head on my chest, turning her attention to the show. Her eyes are wide as she watches the lights dance on the castle, amazed. She's watching the lights, but my eyes are completely on her, drinking in her beauty.

When it's over, she turns back around and stands on her tiptoes to lace her hands behind my neck. "Dontavius Tony Dennis. Thank you for the perfect day." She kisses me sweet and deep, and I can taste the butterbeer on her tongue.

Anything for you, Y/N. Anything.

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orbitariums · 4 months

Text

warmth | art donaldson + patrick zweig + black fem reader (a snippet)

full length part 1 here!

i miss posting on here real bad and i keep teasing things (christopher moltisanti, richie jerimovich) and not actually writing/releasing them SO i'm putting this snippet of this oneshot i'm writing to encourage myself to actually put this out.

i think this will probably have multiple parts because the tension needs to builddd. and please, let me know y'alls thoughts!!! what do you think, what do you predict is gonna happen, r u thirsting adequately, etc. i love hearing your little comments <333

& let me know if you’d wanna be tagged when this comes out

essentially: reader, patrick and art were childhood best friends who conveniently were all in love with each other, or at least had enough sexual tension to make it feel that way. fast forward almost a decade later, and reader has made it onto the red carpet with her fantastic pen, and patrick and art have gone pro. when she invites them to her house for a star-studded friendsgiving, tensions rise and old doors open, springing forth new possibilities. this is only the beginning.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

warmth

“We should just turn around now, save ourselves the embarrassment.”

Patrick paid Art no mind, rolling down the window and leaning out of it, pressing the buzzer as you had dutifully instructed them in your email invite.

“Too late now. Already threw away about a gallon of gas just coming up the hill to this place,” he replied, the sense of ease in his voice only egging Art on even more.

“Exactly why we should leave. I mean, fuck. Does she have to live on a hill?”

“Residence of [last name], to whom am I speaking?” a male voice rings on the other end.

“Uh…” Patrick starts, Art reaching up over him,

“Patrick Zweig and Art Donaldson?”

A silence filled the air. Patrick swatted at Art, forcing him back in his seat.

“Why’d you say it like a question, dumbass?”

Art stammered, already starting to get red in the face,

“I was --”

The gate swung open and both the boys let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you!” Patrick chimed, smirking at Art, who seemed to be sinking in his seat.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Meanwhile, you were inside the mansion that you call home, flowing around the kitchen like there weren’t about fifty people milling about and mingling amongst one another. It smelled like something out of Hansel and Gretel -- from the fragrant brown roasted turkey sitting in the oven, to the gourmand scent of perfectly caramelized candied yams, to the vanilla musk perfume you dotted on your wrists. A black mini Schnauzer nipped excitedly at your feet as you added half a cherry tomato to the giant bowl of salad you’ve been prepping for the last twenty minutes. You look like a pro, like a party of this magnitude is no big deal to you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

“Do we ring the doorbell? Or maybe… should we knock?” Art questioned, hands tied behind his back as he glanced up at Patrick for answers.

“It’s open,” Patrick retorted, but he too stood stupefied at the door, like a weary traveler wavering in horrific awe before the mouth of some epic beast.

“On three?” Art suggested, and when he didn’t hear a response, he started to count, “one… two…”

Patrick stepped in before Art could get to three. Art scoffed, but followed behind him anyway.

The two of them stood there silently, taking the grandiosity of it all in — the sky-high dome ceiling, two grand wooden staircases directly opposite one another, the shiny verdant porcelain flooring, the Basquiat painting hanging above the wide bookcase directly in front of them. Mouths open, they looked like they were ready to catch flies.

“Fuuuck me,” Patrick breathed out heavily. Art’s head was stuck staring up at the ceiling, so high he thought it’d never end.

“You made it.”

Both Art and Patrick seemed to stand straight at the sound of your voice, like soldiers at attention. You almost laughed, but instead you stood there coolly, smiling at them both with your lips and your eyes— in them, a look that was almost knowing, wise beyond your years. It seemed like a lifetime before either of them would speak. They spent half that lifetime practically gawking at you, drinking you in. And how could they not, when you were draped in that cream-colored silk dress, the flowy bottom dancing above your ankles. You looked more beautiful than they remembered you, calmer, secure — of course, they hadn’t seen you since they were teenagers. Now there was this air of timelessness about you that was only just poking at the surface when you were in high school. Now it surrounded you. Something mystic encompassed your entire spirit, dripping from your head to your feet. They’d spent years seeing you from behind a screen, being interviewed on live TV, attending red carpets for award shows, blending in with the Hollywood mecca — another beautiful twenty-something industry talent. But the glow of the television that seemed to give everyone a perfectly filtered sheen was nothing compared to your beauty here.

“It’s so good to see you,” Patrick broke the silence first, practically lurching forward with open arms to embrace you. His beard scratched against your cheek. You could smell the cologne that was beginning to wear off, mixed with a hint of cigarette smoke. His arms nearly suffocated you.

When he pulled away, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the way he smiled at you so fervently.

“Good to see you too, Patrick…” you glanced over at the mousy boy who didn’t seem to have changed much since high school. “C’mere, Artie.”

Art chuckled: a nervous huff of relief, inching forward into your open arms and nuzzling his chin into your shoulder, closing his arms around your midwaist. You could smell the aftershave that still clung to his face, and the detergent still fresh from his clothes.

You pulled away, but took one of each of their hands, squeezing.

“My two boys. Man, how long has it been?”

“Oh, just a while—”

“Seven years,” Art interjected.

“Who’s counting, right?” Patrick grinned, making all of you laugh.

You looked at them almost expectantly, eyes wide like a doe, the slightest smile playing at your lips. They looked back with bated breaths. Always, you were in charge, always. It had been like this since the scabby-kneed days of childhood. If you wanted to play on the swings, they were there on either side of you. You were the queen of the sandbox. In middle school, they snuck extra cookies for you from the lunchroom and fought over who got to surprise you with the treat every day. Senior year of high school, in the hotel room in London, when you had them perched on either side of you like baby birds waiting for mother’s return— when you had both your hands on each of their thighs, had them panting like puppy dogs, inching your hands further and further only to leave the minute you heard “lights out.”

It had been seven years since then and still, it was the same. Only this time, you were stupidly rich, thanks to the soaring success of your two psychological thriller books turned TV series. It wasn’t that you’d forgotten about them, or didn’t care about them now that you were rich and famous. You’d gotten accepted to study creative writing at Brown, Art went to play at Stanford, and Patrick went on his path to go pro. You were delighted to see that they were only a click away thanks to the internet, just one click away from being reintegrated into your life. Your childhood best friends.

“C’mon, lunch is almost ready.”

Friendsgiving. Who didn’t love the concept? It was a readily welcomed, wholesome idea — friends of all ages and backgrounds coming together to rehash their Thanksgiving with leftovers, stories from the year, and maybe a game of cards. Except your friendsgiving was attended by A-list actresses, Cannes festival attending screenwriters, and the odd Grammy-nominated artist. And your friendsgiving was not at all an intimate affair — it may as well have been a club party. Most people were outside, dancing, shrieking with laughter, drinking, and skipping their way to their seats. Your backyard was vast and verdant green, with a pool in the center, the perimeter lined with lemon and peach trees, and miles to explore.

“This is fucking insane, is that Dakota Johnson?” Patrick scoffed. He and Patrick had been left to their own devices yet again, while you flitted around being the hostess with the mostest, easing and gliding about. A laugh here, a clink of glasses there, and a coolness to you that stood in striking comparison with the warmth that stirred deep down inside you. A warmth that could be served with a ladle into goblets, like some elixir with magical properties only you possessed.

“No, you idiot, that’s— oh shit. That might be Dakota Johnson.”

Clink clink clink.

“Everybody, hi, hi! Thank you for coming, please, sit down,” you called out, clinking your glass to get the attention of your guests. Patrick and Art scrambled to find seats, ending up at a table with people who might have been minor celebrities or art critiques or designers -- at least one of those options.

“I wanna thank you all so much for coming, this really means a lot to me. I know these sorts of things can be really hectic, but you guys make this house feel like a home. I’m glad that some of you will be staying with me for the next few days, there’s always room for more,” you glanced over at Art and Patrick. “Some of you are new friends, some of you I’ve known for far too long. But I think it’s incredibly fucking cool that we’re all here together now in this moment, just enjoying each other’s presence. I do this every year, and every year I meet even more amazing, talented, fascinating people and you all are so dear to my heart. And now, what we’re all waiting for… lunch is served!”

A cacophony of cheers rang out as staff rushed about to place plates in front of everyone. You stood giggling, basking in all of it. Patrick and Art couldn't help but watch on with deeply impressed smiles — you were meant to bask: in glory, in pleasure, in everything. You looked just right standing where you were.

The rest of the afternoon Patrick and Art spent attempting to blend in as best they could. They were pro tennis players, but this was another level of stardom that they couldn’t quite fathom yet. They watched you ruthlessly the entire night, unable to squash those rising feelings of attraction and yearning for you that had never quite simmered to begin with. You’d always been cooler than them, but watching you now there was a certain air to you that belonged to a grown woman, someone comfortable and confident and in their element. You were positively swimming in the sunlight the entire afternoon. It was like you had this sort of magnetic pull to all things good, rich, and warm. People wanted to be around you. And god, did this prove that.

By night time, people were finally starting to leave. The sun hung low in the darkening sky, making the fairy lights glow stronger now. The few people that were staying with you for the rest of Thanksgiving weekend had disappeared to their rooms. Besides the waitstaff still milling about, clearing the tables, it was just you, Patrick, and Art. The two of them hadn’t meant to stay so long, really. It wasn’t like they were forcing themselves to stick around and be acknowledged by you in a way that felt meaningful. Sure, you’d had your small talk and cracked a few inside jokes, but as much as neither wanted to admit it, they needed more. If it was hard to get your attention before, it was nearly impossible now. They were surrounded by so many people who all wanted to network and talk and introduce themselves, they found themselves mingling with your friends, some of them people who they’d seen on screen in the past year, more than you. They’d been dragged onto the dance floor multiple times by multiple acquaintances, only to gawk at you swaying your hips rather than actually dance themselves. It became overwhelmingly clear, in their increasingly present desperation, that they should’ve accepted your offer to stay in this castle of a house for the weekend. Neither of them had packed a bag.

“This is awkward, we’re the only ones left,” Art sighed, still sitting at their table.

“Let’s just… wait, okay? She might come back out."

"And give us a little speech?"

"Yeah, asshole, maybe she will."

At that very moment, you appeared again, this time clad in a two piece linen pajama set. You didn’t miss the way both their eyes trailed up your legs as you stood in front of them, arms crossed, smiling expectantly.

“I was hoping you two would still be here,” you said. You glanced between the two of them, that awkward silence filling the air once again. “C’mon. Let’s talk.”

You turned and walked back inside, the two of them trailing behind you.

"Your house is fucking sick by the way. I mean holy shit," Art blurted once you got to the main entrance hall.

"Feel like I just walked into a page of Architectural Digest," Patrick added on.

You led them up the stairs. Both their eyes dropped to your ass, which poked out just a bit from under the pair of shorts you wore. Silently watching the way your body curved as you walked.

"Ha, thanks. I think I did pretty okay for myself," you replied.

You led them to the den on the second floor and sat criss cross apple sauce on the lush green couch. Art sat on your left, Patrick on your right. Patrick spread his legs and Art had one foot up on the couch, bouncing against his knee.

“Sorry we didn’t get to talk much. I was so busy being the host of the year that I didn’t pay enough attention to you two. My favorites.”

Art chuckled,

“Favorites? You’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m serious! D’you know how much I missed you guys?”

Patrick scoffed playfully,

“All those TV interviews I watched of you? I wouldn’t even be thinking about us.”

You couldn’t help but grin, that warmth coming through once again. It nearly made the two men melt.

“Well I was. I always think about you guys.”

Now came Patrick’s voice again, a heaviness to it that almost made you jump,

“Do you think about anything specific?”

Although it had been nearly a decade since you’d last seen each other, you didn’t miss a single thing about either of them. Patrick didn’t mince words, and he never shied away from not just hinting at, but blaring his salacious intentions every time he spoke. You tilted your head towards him, a cool smile tugging at your lips.

“Just what good times we had.”

A silence, accented with a flood of nostalgia and a pointed reference to those “good times” permeated the air. You took a moment to gaze at the two of them ever so softly — enough for them to feel it, but not enough to make them squirm (though, they were easy to make squirm) — before you decimated the silence by slapping your hands down on either of their thighs and squeezing endearingly.

“So tell me, where’ve you two been? I’m not the only one on TV these days.”

“Ahh, you don’t wanna hear about boring tennis,” Art waved a hand of dismissal.

You chortled, a trademark of yours that Art and Patrick had always poked fun at in school,

“You’re right, I don’t.”

“You still laugh the same,” Patrick said, grinning like he was trying not to but was unable.

You chuckled, this time low in your throat, and turned your head to face him again. You and Patrick were similar in the sense that you were always pushing the boundaries, tiptoeing closer and closer to the line — but the three of you had never quite established where that was. At some point, you were all just too close to even think about “the line” or “boundaries” — all of you appeared clueless to societal expectations of friendship, spurting a sort of cultlike relationship where everyone else was an outsider.

“Do I?” smiling at him like you were warning him not to tease.

“Yeah, that little snort you do,” Patrick replied, unshaken.

“You do do a little snort,” Art chimed in, always chirping like he spoke from a less nefarious place.

“And if I get started on you guys’ little tennis grunts?” you grinned fully now, showing teeth, looking between the two of them and leaning back a bit.

They followed, leaning back against the couch and keeping their heads in line with yours so you were never too far away from them, each of them turning their heads to look at you.

“No way you actually watch us,” Art replied.

“I do!” you insisted. “Seriously, if you’d asked anybody here you would know.”

“Sure, let me just strike up conversation with George Clooney,” Art shot back.

“Ha-ha,” you bleated sarcastically. “I don’t even know him… but I have walked past him once on the carpet.”

“Look at you,” Patrick smirked. “Little Miss Superstar.”

He punctuated his sentence with a hand on your knee. Your eyes flickered over to him and you caught the way his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat when he swallowed, felt the way he gazed up at you. You didn’t miss the desire twinkling in his eyes.

Then Art, always second but not necessarily last,

“She’s our little superstar, you know that, right?”

His hand just gently grazing your shoulder.

You let them revel in the moment for as long as you felt appropriate, then huffed.

“You know you guys can stay for the weekend, right? I mean, you should.”

“Oh… no, we wouldn’t wanna impose,” Patrick said, his hand slinking away from your knee.

Another chortle from you, this time the kind that said everything about how you lived in comparison to them,

“You wouldn’t be. This is a five bedroom house. It’s fine. Besides, don’t you guys wanna actually catch up? I’ll let you torture me with tennis talk.”

Art started to stammer,

“I-I mean… we didn’t bring anything.”

“Just our idiot selves,” Patrick added.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get Charles to get you guys all set up.”

“Charles?”

“Oh, he’s my assistant,” you said nonchalantly, as if it were nothing. “You’re not fighting me on this. I want to spend some quality time with my boys. Don’t make me have to beg for it.”

“We could never make you beg for anything,” Art replied, just a little too quickly.

“I know, Art, that’s why I love you,” you grinned over at him. “So, are we all in agreement? Stay with me. Just this weekend.”

“Yes,” they both replied a little too quickly this time.

You bit your lip, suppressing a smile.

“You know… I really, really missed you guys. And those good times we had.”

You let the memory of that night of almosts in London resurge, let their minds run amuck with whatever teenage fantasy was still left over from that night. A moment so brief it could almost be forgotten, could even be flagged as incidental, accidental, but the three of you knew, even as grown adults (especially as grown adults), that it would always stick and remain unresolved, unless someone ran to the rescue with some sort of solution. Once again they held their breaths. You stood up, glanced between the two of them like you were sizing them up, and then smiled as if nothing had happened at all — you let them breath.

“Your bedroom’s the second on the right when you leave here. Charles will help you get set up— I’ll see you guys in the morning for breakfast.”

And just like that, you were gone. The air in the room seemed to clear. Your presence was like a thousand tons of pressure weighing on their bodies and their minds. Finally, they could breathe.

They glanced at each other with the same longing, almost nervous expression — high school all over again.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

eek let me know what y'all thought. i wanna finish it by this week <3

#challengers #challengers smut #challengers fic #patrick zweig smut #patrick zweig #art donaldson #art donaldson smut #art donaldson imagine #patrick zweig imagine #x reader #x black reader #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x black reader #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x black! reader

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aniharas · 8 months

Text

𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯

pairing: anakin skywalker x padawan!fem!reader

summary: a flirtatious training session left anakin and his new student frazzled. but he knew that if she called, he'd drop everything and answer.

warnings: master/padawan relationship, sexual content, exhibitionism (if you squint)

wc: 7k+ oneshot

a/n: took some lyrics from agora hills and really ran with it. inbox is open for any suggestions! enjoy!

Their intentions were pure. She had caught Anakin on his way to his dormitory, begging him to train with her secretly. She and her master were being sent on their first mission together, and she insisted that she would meet her end if Anakin didn’t take her under his wing. “Please, Master Skywalker,” she had pleaded.

And how could he refuse? The poor girl was on her knees, tears pooling and threatening to stream down her innocent face. He agreed, only admitting that her master was indeed an atrocious teacher and that his own Padawan already knew everything he knew.

When their training started, she immediately realized that Anakin was an upgrade. He chose different approaches, not by the book. He pushed her harder, trained longer, and didn’t let her retire to her dormitory until her technique seemed flawless. Which is why on one particular day, Anakin had nearly torn out his hair in frustration. The moon was already high in the sky, seeming to taunt them as it loomed over the Temple’s garden. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why this simple lesson was driving them up the wall. To him, it was simple: to transition from lightsaber combat to parrying blaster shots. But to teach her was like teaching a womp rat to tango.

It didn’t help that they both grew irritable with each passing minute, and it was inevitable with how stubborn they both seemed to be. A subtle roll of the eyes or a scoff would set each other off. Their patience waned, evident through the hits they traded with their practice lightsabers becoming more personal, ending with both on dust-ridden ground, beat-up and breathless.

“Okay, okay, let’s just…relax,” Anakin instructed with a stressed exhale, his face twisted from exasperation. Wordlessly, he motioned for her to do the same, to which she reluctantly followed.

“Don’t act like you didn’t start it,” she hissed, wiping sweat from her forehead for what seemed like the twentieth time. “I don’t get it. It all happens too fast, I basically have to react before it even happens. It’s not fair,” she whined, almost childishly.

“That’s precisely it,” Anakin cut in as he dusted off his pants, rising to his feet. “You wanna stay alive out there? Feel it before it happens,” he repeated, holding his hand out for her to take.

When she was back on her feet, Anakin quickly took her practice saber from her hands. “Hey, what are you-” “Close your eyes,” he said, his voice low and soft, much different from the annoyed tone he had moments before.

It was humiliating how quickly she obeyed him, her attempts to ignore the heat that seemed to ignite her skin. The courtyard was eerily quiet, or at least as quiet as Coruscant could get, only adding to the growing awkwardness between them. It was only when she was about to complain once more that she felt an unmistakable energy emanating from a certain direction behind her. “Do you feel it?” he questioned, his voice low to not break her concentration.

A beat passed before she answered him. “Yes,” she breathed, anticipation seeming to tingle in her voice.

“Feel my presence,” Anakin urged, his voice gentle yet commanding. “Sense where I am without seeing.” He began to circle her silently, holding his breath so he wouldn’t compromise his position physically.

At first, she tried to sense him with mere sounds, a vibration from the ground, but it proved futile. The wind that chilled her to her bones helped to camouflage any breath or sound that would betray him, and she knew that he always seemed to carry himself as if he weighed like a feather. How could someone so tall and broad move like a lothcat? When she actually began to try, the air seemed to carry faint whispers, brief waltzes of energy that danced around in her mind that just so slightly guided her senses. “You’re there,” she said unsurely, pointing in his general direction. A barely audible sound of approval resonated in Anakin’s throat, a low grunt, confirming her guess. “Good. Take it a step further,” he suggested. “Focus on how it takes shape in your head. Feel my intention,” he instructed under his breath. His whispers somehow seemed to echo off the walls of the temple. “Tell me where my focus lies.”

Initially, it was a bit hard to center her thoughts. None of this was anything like what her master taught her. It was oddly…intimate. But there wasn’t a chance she would let nerves stop her now, she had already gone all this way. With each (notably loud) heartbeat, she sought out the rhythm of his focus. She tried to envision it like a beacon in the darkness behind her eyelids, beckoning her, calling her like a distant star. Something began to flutter around in her mind–a fiery sensation that seemed to extend its grasp from the darkness towards her. A tingling feeling began to nip at her right hand. That was it.

“My hand. You’re looking at my right hand,” she said with certainty.

“Close, but not quite. Be more accurate.”

Really? Will it really come down to knowing what finger my enemy is looking at? After taking a moment to think, she answered him again. “My pointer finger.” Unbeknownst to her, Anakin’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Good. Keep ‘em closed, let’s do it again. And put it together.”

She continued to list off different parts of her body where she could feel his focus linger from where he was. Her right shoulder, to her right. Her left knee, behind her. All reasonable places to strike in combat. He then trained her to sense where his gaze would relocate to. From her shins to her midsection. From her wrists to her foot. Perfect for sensing how quick an enemy can strike. It was becoming easy. From her neck to her chest.

She froze as the words left her lips, her heart quickening. Her chest, he was looking at her chest. Why was he looking at her chest? As if nature was asking her to relax, a gust of wind rattled the branches of the Great Tree that loomed over them, its yellow leaves seeming to shiver with her. The cold contrasted with the feeling in her cheeks as if urging her to think more rationally. Of course, how could she get ahead of herself? It wasn’t exactly the chest, it was the heart. It was a common place to attack in the heat of a battle, especially when aiming to kill. The Jedi try their best to not strike the chest, but many foes do attempt to go for theirs. It was crucial to sense, and Anakin was only helping her, right?

Anakin’s abrupt cough sliced through the silence culminating between them, causing her to wince at the abrasive sound. “Sorry– ahem, it’s just the cold. Making the air pretty dry,” he muttered in between the grunts that cleared his throat. He tossed her makeshift saber back to her, hiding the fact that the sound of blood rushing in his ears was deafening. “That was good. I think you’re good to take a break for now.” The sigh of relief that escaped her mouth as she caught the stick was nearly involuntary with how tense she felt. She could only hope that he saw it as relief from relentless training instead of relief from how nervous she felt under his gaze.

Despite this, she felt saddened as she watched him trudge off to the opposite end of the space. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him as he began to twirl the stick that was his makeshift saber around him in what looked like a flashy dance, something that she just knew he did regularly from how natural the movement was.

Unknown to her, Anakin’s thoughts were growing rather reckless. Physically, he was always in control of himself. Not one misstep, not one mistake. He could give the galaxy a thousand reasons, if not more, to respect him. But him controlling his mind? Anyone close to him knew this was one of his shortcomings. One of his only responses was to grow stronger, to grow more powerful to make up for that failure. Another was lightsaber training. He seemed to find solace in the hypnotic spin of the stick, the very image cutting through the stillness of Coruscant’s night. His face, usually one would describe as a representative of determination, was now etched with a more lost expression.

And she was amazed, how could she not be? To do such a complicated maneuver while his mind was elsewhere was something she could never hope to replicate. But that didn’t stop the urge to take it as a challenge, to attempt to mimic his fluid motions. She attempted the intricate moves, stumbling and dropping her weapon every so often, but that didn’t stop her either. It didn’t seem like anything could.

It was then that she felt it – that prickly, warm feeling, expanding over the dip of her waist. It slowly inched its way down and over the curve of her hips.

Anakin truly hadn’t meant for his attention to slip so carelessly. But how could he deny the way that she so adorably tried to replicate his signature move? The pleasure that was the curves of her silhouette against the city lights? Had he been so incredibly naive? Of course, she could sense his intention; Obi-Wan had told him that anyone from Coruscant to Tattooine could. A growing hunger for the silly girl stumbling over herself across the courtyard.

She quickly shifted her stance so he couldn’t see the petrified look that adorned her face, pretending to be too absorbed in securing her hair with a spare ribbon to notice. She felt winded from the mere thought of him looking at her; why did that bother her so greatly? Once again, she tried to rationalize this feeling. Maybe he was just observing her technique. Maybe he was testing her. Maybe it was someone else. But that it was so distinctly Anakin, so spine-shudderingly Anakin, she felt it down to her bones. And even if he was just observing, he wouldn’t need to be looking there. The sensation was also different; it was slightly more passionate. If his focus before could be compared to a poke, this feeling was more of a gentle caress. It seemed to pulse with more and more of that passion the longer it lingered in an area for too long. So if he was testing her, what was he looking for? So maybe, she wasn’t overthinking his gaze on her chest earlier. She definitely knew she wasn’t overthinking as she felt the sultry, unwavering feeling rake over her chest. The subtle warmth that filled her cheeks earlier was now raging, slowly inching its way down her body, like she had set her own skin on fire.

“Well!” She sputtered out, her Padawan braid almost smacking her in the face with how fast she whipped her head around. “I– uh, think we should start again. Maybe sparring?” she suggested, too hurriedly for her liking. She swiped a few strands of stray hair from her forehead in a desperate attempt to look nonchalant. The feeling was too much to bear, and she feared that if it didn’t stop, her thoughts would descend to something less appropriate.

Her sudden exclamation seemed to startle Anakin, ceasing his movements. His breath hitched as his eyes refocused to meet hers. The pensive expression was wiped immediately, replaced with the friendly smile and the crinkle of his eyes that she had grown accustomed to. “Of course,” he obliged, motioning for her to come close. “Let’s get your stances down first.”

She thought that by continuing with sparring, she could distract herself from that forbidden feeling. There was nothing more relieving than whacking down the very man that made evoking a physical response from her seem so simple. However, Anakin only continued to tantalize her. Get your stances down first, he said. You’re not doing it right, he said. It almost seemed like it was an excuse to close the distance between them, and she questioned if there truly was a smirk on his face as she froze up once more.

His cold, cybernetic hand made contact with her arm, just above her elbow, raising it delicately. “Could you keep it right there for me?”

“Yeah,” she answered breathlessly, holding her arm as steady as she could, trying to ignore what it would feel like if his hands were anywhere else.

“Could you focus while you’re at it?” Anakin chastised as he placed his hands on her midsection and the small of her back, straightening her out. She could’ve sworn his tone was challenging her, teasing her.

True to her hard-headed nature, she quickly slouched over again, undoing his previous work. “Could you be nicer?”

The curve of his lips was unmistakable now, his head tilting as he stared down at her in what seemed an endearing manner. “You seem to be fond of pushing my buttons tonight,” he remarked, though without a single hint of malice in his voice. His hand roughly pushed at her lower back once more, forcing a perfect posture from her. It took every ounce of self-control she could muster to stop herself from prodding further. And what if I pushed some more? She knew she would’ve had him. It was a dangerous game to be playing, but she knew that as well.

Even though she had bit her tongue, the mischievous glint in her eyes told Anakin nearly everything. Was it his turn to be tested? He could feel himself teetering on the edge of that forbidden, yet savory feeling that he had been trying his hardest to keep in check. But how could he as he was touching her like this, angling her body exactly how he wanted it to be? He began to adjust her upper body, yet his hands lingered, fingertips gently tracing down her shoulder blades. The heat was starting to creep back into her body. Yet, it was different this time, and it was an unusual feeling. She anticipated the rush to her cheeks, but this time, it seemed to travel much farther down. Though she hated to admit it, she couldn’t help but feel like it would be nice to succumb to it as a pleasant shiver slithered down her spine. At that moment, she would’ve given anything to know what he was feeling. “Can you sense where I’m looking?” Anakin asked in a low voice. It always seemed like he could read her mind. But if he were to continue, all he would see was a frenzied, jumbled mess as she tried to recollect herself. “N-no?” she murmured truthfully, keeping her voice as level as she could. Bur it wasn’t hard to tell where he was looking. His gaze was like a warm fire, so intense that it seemed to envelop her whole body. Anakin laughed softly, reveling in the way that she was reacting so strongly to him. As to when this happened, he wasn’t so sure, but he wasn’t one to complain either. He moved slowly to position himself behind her, then leaned in to delicately whisper in her ear. “Can I show you?” “Yes,” she said in a voice that barely escaped her lips, almost involuntarily. It wasn’t just the enigma of his movements, a mere dance of shadows that still captivated her. Nor was it just the velvety nature of his whisper, so tender yet so affirming that it seemed to electrify her nerves. Regardless, she could feel herself melting away. To her, it was as if the very air she was breathing was thickening, transforming the tingling feeling in her chest into a desperate, all-compassing ache. Her resolve was reduced to a mere candle in the wind. Despite this, she was determined to get even with him. An intense desire grew within her, a desire to make him crack and crumble, to turn his limbs into Andorian jelly, to have him begging for her the way she desperately wanted to beg for him. She would knock that arrogant, yet pretty smirk off his face. But he had rendered her so helpless under his teasing ministrations, it wasn’t fair to her. He overwhelmed her. Just when the weight of the tension between them seemed at its heaviest, she abruptly pulled away, ignoring the immediate embarrassment that chilled her bones. Avoiding what she knew would be his intense eyes, she began to mumble, her speech slightly jumbled from how frazzled she felt. “Uh- I was asked to report to my master early tomorrow morning,” she stammered, hastily smoothing out her robes. She hated how easily her voice seemed to betray her lie, so she turned and hurried away without waiting for a response. Her steps began to echo as she ran inside, ominously leaving the famed Jedi alone in the courtyard. As she disappeared into the shadows of the Temple, Anakin barely had the chance to utter a single word, watching with a troubled expression as an uncomfortable silence fell over the courtyard. Every moment that led up to then began to swirl in his mind; all the subtle contact and the teasing words began to replay in his mind at once. The thought of himself crossing the line with her gripped his very heart, aching the longer he stared after her. It had seemed like every time he allowed himself to indulge in the impulsive nature of his passion, he ended up pushing everyone he held dear away. Is that what it is he considered her to be? “Dear”? Whether that was true or not, Anakin couldn’t deny the sense of loss that had begun to gnaw at him the longer he was without her.

But who was he kidding? He would be lying to himself if he said that was a first-time occurrence. For the past few meetings, he found himself dreading the end of their secret training sessions more and more. His desperation to keep her in his presence was under the guise of excuses. “You’re not leaving until you get this down”, or “Meditate with me until you feel one with the Force”. All things that a perfect Jedi master would say, all by the Code. The teachings of the Code that had been drilled into Anakin's mind seemed to taunt him about his feelings, remembering Obi-Wan’s and Yoda’s cautioning against attachments, and yet, the Force seemed to unpredictably guide him to this very moment, yet remained elusive in offering guidance once he got there. Teaching a girl the ways of the Jedi had made him long for her; a sad smirk played on his lips as he pondered the irony of that sentiment. He sighed, the weight of the situation beginning to settle on his shoulders. His gaze fixed on the floor beneath him, inscribing lines and meaningless shapes in the dirt with his stick as he pondered over what to do. Maybe he could explain himself to her, tell her the truth. Was there still a chance to fix things? Would she feel the same way? Then, as if the Force finally answered somehow, a chilly breeze rushed past Anakin, scattering the drawings that he had been working on. He scoffed, almost having a mind to curse out at the wind. But he relented, admitting defeat silently. Perhaps it was best to leave her alone. He had gone too far.

–

She had tried her hardest to focus on her upcoming mission, but her blooming emotions seemed to overshadow all else. She craved answers, using her alone time to plan out her words, words she needed to breach the unspoken feelings between them. The alone time would include pacing around in her room, attempting to gossip with Ahsoka, or using her pillow as a stand-in for Anakin as she recited her speech. With all this effort she had put in, it only added to the sting of disappointment as she noticed Anakin’s evasiveness. A palpable tension hung in the air when their paths inevitably crossed in the hallowed hallways, and when his eyes always seemed to land anywhere but on her, her heart panged. His excuses to leave every time she entered the refectory felt infinitely worse. Of course, she knew things would have been awkward after she had left so abruptly, but she didn’t anticipate it would escalate that far. Had he taken offense to it? It was common knowledge that Anakin was extremely volatile with his emotions, and even more widely known that he lacked the discipline to control them. Fear of facing her again clashed with the guilt of abandoning their training, and it wore him down each time he saw her walk by. His chest would grow tight, his jaw would tense. It would be the easy way out to continue to keep his distance, to tell himself that he was living the Jedi way. But once the day of her mission finally arrived, he couldn’t help but think that the Jedi way was bullshit.

As the dawn of her expedition arrived, she stepped into a craft hangar of organized chaos. The hum of the ships, the mechanical voices of equipment, and the stampede of footsteps only added to the dizziness from all the nerves that she had built up inside of her. She stationed herself at the entrance to her transport ship as she awaited departure, her fingers tightly gripping the hilt of her lightsaber in an attempt to quell the nervous flutters in her stomach.

But it was no use as the doubts began to fester in her mind. What if she wasn’t quick enough with her parries? What if she couldn’t sense an enemy attack before it was too late? Her own master hadn’t even told her anything about where they were going, explaining that it was a “good learning experience to face the unknown”. She swore if she could ditch her master, she would in a heartbeat. On top of everything, the unspoken tension between her and Anakin was what seemed to distract her the most. Even if she did leave abruptly, she definitely did not deserve the silent treatment from him.

She was about to escape the distracting noise of the hangar, trudging up the ramp to her ship until a strong grip on her shoulder nearly made her stumble backward. She jerked her head around to see the idiot who had nearly ailed her.

“What the-"

Anakin stood there breathlessly, panting as a sheen of sweat decorated his skin. “Shut up. Take this,” he said as he extended a small device towards her. A personal comlink, with an extra modem attached. When he was met with a hard, confused look, he huffed in annoyance before speaking up again.

“It links to me,” he explained, gesturing to his own comlink that was securely attached to his belt. “I’ve rigged it so you can contact me as long as you’re near a Republic satellite.”

She eyed the device warily. “Why now, Master Skywalker? You’ve been gone,” she whispered, a mix of frustration and suspicion in her voice as she replied.

Anakin sighed in disappointment at his own actions, nodding once to agree with her. “Which is why I’m giving this to you,” he elaborated, his brow furrowing. He then took her hand and closed her fingers over the metal, tube-like device. “Please,” he begged as he held her hand in both of his, the tone becoming more desperate as he finally met her gaze for the first time in a while. “Just…use it. Whenever you need me, swear to me you’ll use it. I’ll help you.”

As much as she wanted to fight it, the sincerity in his words was unmistakable, and it slowly began to chip away at her defense once again. With all the questions she wanted to ask on the tip of her tongue, she nodded once, allowing Anakin to attach the commlink to her belt. It was noticeable how they both seemed to hold their breaths in anticipation, at the proximity of their bodies.

Once he had pulled back, he found himself desperately missing the warmth of her body. And with what was at stake, he couldn’t afford to miss another opportunity to act on this feeling. Wordlessly, he roughly yanked her towards him, the urgency of the action contrasting deeply with the tender touch that followed. He held her close, his body pressed tightly against hers and his embrace firm, almost as if she would disappear if his grip faltered for just a moment.

Despite initially stiffening up, she didn’t want to dissect the swirl of emotions that surrounded them as the hangar’s intercom announced the departure of her ship. She glanced up at Anakin, her eyes blown wide and afraid. “What if I-”

“No what if’s, okay?” he quickly interjected, giving her a reaffirming squeeze before pulling back to see her more clearly. She looked natural in a Jedi mission uniform, she looked pretty. He caught his eyes wandering towards her lips, refocusing shortly after.

“You’ve got this. I trust you, just trust yourself now.” Reluctantly, he gave her a gentle push up the ramp, gesturing for her to continue.

Her eyes lingered on his face anxiously before making her way up the ramp. Once she was inside, she idly stood at the ship’s opening once the ramp began to eerily close, obscuring her view of him little by little. It was only then that she realized that she had to say goodbye. She could only muster a small, shy wave as the engine hummed to life, ignoring the calls of her master to accompany her as a co-pilot from the front of the ship.

"Make it back in one piece,” Anakin called out in response, giving a reassuring smile. “May the Force be with you.”

As the ramp fully closed and the ship began to ascend, she pressed her palms against the ramp door, almost wishing she could push it back open and he would still be there. Soon enough, the atmosphere of Coruscant began to slowly fade into a symphony of stars through the ship’s windows. She stared down at the comlink attached securely to her belt. Anakin’s lifeline to her. It shed a bit of light on how he felt, but now she was determined to make it back home, so she could uncover the whole truth.

–

The mission had been a success, unfolding with an outstanding performance from the Jedi girl. She anticipated every attack, adapted to the battle and terrain, and even helped devise strategies with the commanding clone of her unit. It left her master astonished, wondering as to when she had improved so much.

However, it didn’t go without casualties. She tried to warn her master about the disturbances she felt ripple behind her, hinting at danger. The warnings fell on deaf ears. As expected, the ambush of bounty hunters emerged from behind their ranks, resulting in a few clone deaths and an injured master. Luckily, she and her Clone unit helped escort him to safety.

She was more than overjoyed to return home from a mission success, unfortunately slightly marred by the recklessness of her mentor. She took pride in the fact that she was able to achieve the feat on her own, without having to cry for help. It made her itch for another mission, the nerves have turned into an addictive thrill. Upon their return to Coruscant, her master was promptly confined to strict bed rest, in turn, leaving her with nothing to do other than train and retire to her quarters, much to her dismay. The soft embrace of her duvet was enough to keep her captive in her dormitory for a while, a definitive upgrade from the stiff cushions of their transport ship. The drone of city life outside the Temple was slowly winding down to a hush, the occasional whir of a speeder zooming by. Staring up at her sky window, she glared at the stars in frustration. It’s not like she wanted to lie down doing nothing, but there was nothing she could do to help it. Yet another reason to despise her insipid mentor.

Besides, she found a better one.

Anakin. Anakin had crossed her mind for the first time since the mission, and she was unable to suppress the heat that flooded her cheeks upon the mere thought of him. He made her feel sane in the unhinged antics that came with their duties. The heat seemed to travel elsewhere when she remembered where their relationship had gotten to. She so desperately wanted to talk to him, to tell him everything that she experienced and more, but she didn’t have a clue as to where to find him.

It was then that she remembered something very important. The comlink. Her eyes darted to her laundry basket in the corner of her dormitory. She flung the blanket off of her body, scrambling out of bed and towards her laundry basket. She was glad no one was there to witness her digging like a feral animal for her Jedi uniform that she had discarded for nightwear. Eventually, she unclasped the metal device from the belt, cradling it in her hand.

Rushing back to the edge of her bed, she sat eagerly and fidgeted with the power switch. Then, a soft hum emanated from the comlink, and a sudden wave of nervousness washed over her body. Uncertainty colored her expression as she brought the mic up to her lips, contemplating the words she wanted to say.

Once again, she couldn’t convey much. “Anakin?” she began in a hush, glancing around nervously as if she was afraid about getting caught. She held her breath, wondering if he had even heard her. Her gaze was fixed on the comlink, unblinking. Impatient and as stubborn as she was, she began to grow tired of simply sitting there and waiting. With a frustrated huff, she began to put the comlink down until a static-like crackle sounded from it. Hurriedly bringing it back in front of her again, her heartbeat accelerating with each second that passed.

“I was wondering when you would decide to say anything,” his voice rang out, a subtle tone of amusement lingering. The moment she heard his voice, the air in the room seemed to shift, filling the space with relief and exhilaration simultaneously. She didn’t even notice her wide grin and a rose-like color filling the apples of her cheeks as she eagerly listened for him. “Congrats on your mission, by the way,” he continued, shifting to a more formal note, yet his pride for her was evident in his words. “Handled it even better than…well, that’s not the point, is it?”

The small jab at her master was enough to make a giggle escape her lips, covering her mouth in an attempt to hide it. After she composed herself, she brought the comlink to her lips again. “Thank you. I hope I didn’t worry you,” she hummed as she swung her feet off the edge of her bed.

She heard a scoff from his end. “Had me a bit worried since you didn’t reach out. An ‘I’m alive” would’ve been nice,” he playfully scolded, though she could recognize that the sentiment was very much real. “Well, is that all you wanted to tell me?” She hesitated, the words choked up in her throat. Truthfully, she had wanted to tell him everything – the rush of the battling droids, the ambush from the bounty hunters. She so desperately wanted a normal conversation where he was just her mentor. It was never as simple as that. He never was just her new mentor. The only thought that came to the forefront of her mind was the persistent heat that she felt whenever he talked to her. But how could she put that into words without sounding like an idiot? Suddenly, his words from before popped into her head. “You said- uh, to use this if I needed you, right?” she said daringly, though her voice barely audible to her ears. An unbearably long second passed until his voice returned. “Of course. You’ve got the floor,” he replied kindly, though his tone was a bit wary.

Taking a deep breath with her heart pounding in her ears, she decided to go for all the marbles.

“Anakin, it’s so lonely here,” she whined breathlessly, nearly regretting the words as soon as they left her lips.

“Lonely where?” he immediately interjected, an obvious strain in the way he spoke. “In my room.” She was immediately met with a long bout of silence, and it mortified her. Then, the brief sound of static followed by his voice once again. “Hold on,” Anakin said, sounding strangely distant. The line went dead, and she felt her heart fall to the pit of her stomach. She had ruined everything hadn’t she? Of course, Anakin was too nice to straight up reject her, but she would’ve rather him do that than leave her in such a panic. As she paced her room, chewing on her nails nervously, a tidal wave of overthinking crashed over her. Had she gone too far? Had he already gotten over her while she was gone? Was she too forward? Anxiety from potentially ruining what she had with Anakin clawed at her, each passing moment with the silent comlink gripped in her hand amplifying the feeling tenfold. Minutes later, a rapid series of knocks reverberated throughout her dorm. Startled, she nearly dropped the device from her hand as her eyes darted towards the door. The knocks grew in frequency and volume the longer she took to answer. They were urgent, almost frantic.

Scurrying over to the door, she was met with the sight of the man that she was tearing herself down over moments before. Her worry-ridden thoughts were quickly replaced with ones of concern. Anakin stood in front of her in his Jedi robes, panting like a madman, skin slightly sweaty with his hair disheveled. He had to take a moment to place his hands on his knees, using himself for support he attempted to rest himself. To say she was surprised was an understatement. She had asked him to come to her, and he did, evidently as fast as he could. “Anakin, you didn’t have to do that.” Anakin struggled to catch his breath as he took a step inside and shut the door behind him, yet his eyes shined with something that told a different story from the rest of his body. “Couldn’t …couldn’t stay on the comlink,” he admitted between breaths, his eyes unabashedly landing on her lips once again. “Not when you sounded like that.” Any doubt she had about his feelings immediately dissipated. She blinked slowly at him, her eyes blown wide, unsure of what to do. Maybe it was the way that her eyes resembled a lothcat’s or the way her lashes fluttered that seemed to spur Anakin into motion. Before she could even register it, her face was being desperately cradled in his hands, the contrast of the warm, calloused skin with the cold metal sending her mind into a frenzy.

In that instant, she was dragged into a heated kiss, the passion oddly feeling tender. The movement of his arms coming up to wrap around his neck only seemed natural as she returned his kiss, the whine that had been sitting in her throat finally escaping. She felt his teeth graze against her lips, nipping at them playfully. When on earth did a Jedi Knight learn to kiss like that? Was he smiling? And why was she suddenly being hoisted up into the air?

Her legs instinctively around Anakin’s waist to prevent herself from falling, relocating and tightening her grasp atop his broad shoulders. Turning them around, he pressed her back against her front door, the very action resulting in a small “thud”. The sound should’ve concerned both of them, but neither seemed to care in the slightest. His lips gravitated to her neck, the tender skin serving as the perfect way to mask his pent-up grunts that were now leaving his throat. It rippled vibrations across her sensitive skin, eliciting little sounds from her that rang like bells in his ears. Once he had learned that each kiss to her neck brought about a different sound, each one progressively grew more sloppy, more languid, more carnal.

Though she never had been kissed in such a manner before, she knew that no one else could rival Anakin. He was patient, testing and prodding at different parts of the skin on her neck to see what she would react to the most. She was already writhing at the mere feeling of his swollen lips dragging across her skin, his teeth coming in to decorate her fragile skin with a bruise or two.

She had a mind to stop him from leaving marks, to tell him that they would be caught otherwise. However, the thought of a bruise, born out of passion, displayed on her skin for the whole world seemed appealing. The thought of people knowing that he left it there seemed to rub her in all the right ways.

Her reverie was interrupted by the feeling of being dropped gently onto the floor. She looked up at him with a frustrated look. “Why’d you stop?” “Turn around,” Anakin grunted, shrugging the useless garments that were his Jedi uniform off his body. She followed suit and heeded his word almost immediately, but to him, it wasn't fast enough. His hands, large in comparison to her body, grasped her frame and twirled her around, her backside exposed to him. He admired the view in front of him, accompanied by the sight of her hands pressed up against her own front door.

"Anakin?" she called out softly, her head turned just enough just to catch sight of him.

"Hm?" Anakin asked in an equally gentle manner, differing from the low grunts that had just escaped his lips prior. He leaned forward, hovering over her to whisper back to her. "What is it, pretty girl?"

Shuddering at the sickly sweet nickname he had donned her with, her eyes locked with his. "Won't everyone hear if we're right here?" she asked. Yet the way she asked that very question didn't seem like it concerned her very much; it much rather seemed like a courtesy, if anything.

A dry laugh left Anakin's lips, his hands moving to adjust her body to his liking, a feeling that he knew she wasn't unfamiliar with. But now, all it took was for her to bend over ever so slightly, her legs parted just enough. "They can watch if they'd like."

It was all too much to register all at once. He was on top of her, all over her, inside of her. He gripped at her even tighter in a desperate attempt to bring her even closer than they already were before he even thought to start moving. Again, his lips traveled to wherever they could across her bare skin. Her skin was slick, glazing her skin in such an appealing way that made him eager to welcome the salty fluid onto his tongue. Not too long after he eventually started moving, she cried out as he seemed to repeatedly brush against a sensitive spot, and so he upped his pace.

He was certain if anybody had been walking in the Billet's hallway at that moment, they would've heard her. Judging from the look in her pleasure-ridden, tear-filled eyes, she seemed to understand this as well, and she only grew louder from that point forward.

It didn't take too long until the harmony of their groans and whines began to stagger, Anakin unfortunately growing aware of his approaching limit. His movements faltering, his body hunched over her, his grip growing so tight that he was certain he'd leave more bruises than just her neck. But he was determined, so determined to hold out for her, to give her precisely what she needed. Tangling his hand into her hair, he yanked her head backward so it lay against his shoulder.

"Tell me what you need," he hissed, this voice barely audible over all the obscene noises that their bodies were creating, noises he knew were easily escaping through the door. When met with no response, he yanked at her hair harder, resulting in a deliciously overwhelmed yelp. "Please, pleaseplease-" Countless begs escaped her plumped lips, her body beginning to shake as her hands helplessly clawed at the cold, hard surface of the door she was pressed against. That alone was nearly enough to send him over the edge, his breath held and his chest tightening in anticipation of it.

She turned to face him again, her head pulled back enough to display his artwork of red-purple bruises surrounding her jugular. "Please, 'nakin," she begged, her eyes nearly rolling back into her head. "Keep going-"

He suddenly felt a hot, squeezing feeling around him accompanied by a cry out for his name. She was undone, and he shortly followed, retracting himself in time for their mess to spill all over the floor below them.

The intoxicating feeling that consumed their bodies shortly afterward sent them into a daze. One moment, she turned around to pull him into a wet, messy kiss, the next, their limbs were tangled with each other in the velvety embrace of her blankets. She knew that eventually, they would face repercussions for the sounds that they had subjected everyone to in the dead of night, but those repercussions seemed distant, inconsequential to the way she had begun to feel about the Chosen One.

And she was certain, from the way he stroked her hair to the slow and soft kiss that was pressed to her lips, that she wasn't alone in feeling that way.

a/n: originally posted on ao3! first ani fic on this site and more to come. likes n reblogs are appreciated and inbox is open for suggestions or prompts!

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #fem!reader #clone wars #attack of the clones #revenge of the sith #master x padawan #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader smut #oneshot #anakin skywalker oneshot

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lancermylove · 6 months

Text

Moments of Love (Oneshots)

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: Mammon, Satan x gn!Reader

Warning: None

Word Count: 965 (Mammon), 1453 (Satan)

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As the roadway turned around a gentle curve, small buildings lined the streets, nestled intimately together like a collection of vibrant boxes arrayed along a serpentine path. The charming town that was cradled between two majestic mountain ranges radiated a sense of tranquil seclusion. The air was invigoratingly fresh, and the sun shone brightly—a picturesque setting for exploration or simply taking in nature's beauty.

Despite the town's enchanting and serene ambiance, Mammon initially cast a skeptical gaze at the storefronts and buildings. The simplicity of a small-town festivity seemed lackluster compared to the grandeur he envisioned for a romantic retreat. He wanted an extravagant experience at a secluded resort with private beaches, sumptuous spa treatments, and luxurious amenities. You, however, preferred the small town's peaceful allure and retro charm. So, to make you happy, the demon gave in to your wish to celebrate the vacation there.

"We will be staying here," you exclaimed as a cottage came into view.

The cottage was nestled amidst dense foliage, offering privacy and seclusion accompanied by the soothing sound of rushing water from a nearby river. Mammon nodded but softly sighed in resignation. What was he supposed to do? He didn't care for the lush forest, didn't want to observe the wildlife, and definitely didn't want to ruin his expensive shoes by hiking the muddy trails. Although, he didn't say any of this out loud for your sake. 'Anything for your happiness,' he repeated over and over in his mind. While you excitedly explored the cottage, Mammon leaned against the porch railing, absentmindedly staring at the trees.

In the evening, you and Mammon ventured into the town. Much to your shock, the town had transformed into a tableau of romance, illuminated by candles and adorned with festive embellishments. The townspeople had gone above and beyond in their efforts to create a romantic atmosphere, bringing a feeling of intimacy and romance to the town. Heart-shaped lanterns and strings of white beads hung from the trees and buildings; streetlights had been draped with white and red velvet ribbons and sprinkled with rose petals; candles had been tucked into every available crevice.

You were taken aback by the transformation of the quiet, quaint town into a romantic wonderland. As you walked arm in arm with Mammon down the dimly lit street, you caught glimpses of couples sitting on benches, sharing intimate conversations, and kissing beneath the flickering lights. The atmosphere was truly romantic. Though you could feel Mammon's reluctance to openly admit his surprise, you noticed his slightly widened eyes wandering around.

Eventually, the two of you discovered a secluded hill offering a panoramic view of the area. The town below, bathed in the moon's ethereal glow, sparkled like a trove of gemstones scattered across the velvet of night. Countless flickering candles in the town cast a gentle glow across the area while the stars above choreographed a silent ballet in the expansive sky. The air was perfumed with a blend of nocturnal blossoms and the earthy scent of the surrounding woods. It was as if the universe had conspired to create a cocoon of romance exclusively for you and Mammon.

Nestled amidst this dreamlike setting, you spread a plush, soft blanket on the grassy underlay. Inside the pink wicker basket, an assortment of delectable treats and a bottle of fine wine were set beside two crystal glasses. For the final touch, you turned on a lantern and put it in the center of the blanket. Mammon looked at the setting in awe as a small smile graced his lips. "Man, you've outdone yourself."

"Only the best for a night like this," you replied affectionately, genuinely wanting to give him an unforgettable night. The two of you savored the curated selection of cheeses, fruits, pastries, and chocolates for a while as you made small conversation. Just as the velvet cloak of the night wrapped itself more snugly around the world, the distant horizon came alive with a sudden burst of color and light; fireworks of all sizes and hues erupted against the dark sky, painting it with streaks of red, blue, gold, and green.

Your eyes widened with delight, and a gasp escaped your lips. "Look, Mammon! Isn't it beautiful?"

Your boyfriend turned his gaze toward the spectacle, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yeah," he whispered. However, his gaze returned his attention to you, the reflected light of the fireworks dancing in the softness of his eyes. He enjoyed watching your reaction more; the more excited you grew, the more drawn he was. Reaching his hand to your cheek, he gently brushed your skin with the back of his fingers.

"The fireworks ain't got nothin' on your beauty," he whispered, his soft murmur caressing the edges of your right ear.

Surprised by his unexpected words, you slowly turned your head in his direction as your cheeks grew hot. One look into his gaze and the world receded; the sounds of the fireworks, the scent of the blooms and earth, the sparkling stars, the softness of the blanket under your legs - everything was gone. It was just you, Mammon, and a gentle breeze lightly tussling your hair.

Little by little, the two of you leaned in. Your heart pounded against your chest as the anticipation built. What felt like an infinite moment ended when your lips melted into a tender kiss, but the tenderness only lasted momentarily. You could feel the rush of blood through your veins, the butterflies in your stomach, and the heat rising in your body. With your lips still locked, you slowly leaned forward onto his body until Mammon's back was flat against the plush blanket. It was going to be one the longest and most romantic nights of your life.

The warm smell of coffee and waffles wafted through the air as Satan, disguised in his professorial guise, stepped into the quaint local café. Red and white streamers adorned the ceiling, fluttering gently in the warm breeze from a nearby heater, adding a festive yet somewhat gloomy atmosphere. Each table bore a small, delicately crafted heart-shaped statue, its glossy surface reflecting the soft, ambient lighting that cast a cozy glow throughout the room. Despite the romantic setup, the café was surprisingly devoid of patrons. This emptiness seemed to echo Satan's own sentiments as he found himself alone on a day traditionally celebrated with loved ones.

"One large black coffee," he ordered, his emerald eyes not meeting your gaze or even looking at your face once.

Wordlessly, you handed Satan a large black coffee, its dark, rich aroma wafting up in the cozy cafe. He gracefully accepted the cup, his fingers brushing against yours momentarily, sending a surprisingly warm tingle through your hand. He then made his way to a secluded corner table that offered both solitude and a view. As he settled into the chair, his emerald orbs drifted out of the window.

Outside, the city pulsed with life, unaware and indifferent to the turmoil within its walls. People passed by in a blur, each absorbed in their own world, their laughter and chatter distant and foreign. Satan's gaze deepened, reflecting a weariness that seemed to span eons. The weight of countless memories, of love lost and solitude endured, pressed heavily upon him. He cradled the cup of coffee in his hands, seeking warmth in its black depths as he grappled with an emptiness and a silence more profound than the void from which he once emerged.

With its quaint heart-shaped panes, the window framed snapshots of the world outside, where young couples meandered by, their hands entwined, their laughter and easy conversations floating in the air like music. The sunlight radiated a warm, golden hue over these shared happiness vignettes, highlighting the lovers' closeness and ease. Each couple seemed to exist in their own little bubble, a sphere of shared joy and connection that Satan found both enchanting and heart-wrenching.

He observed how their eyes sparkled with the reflection of someone who saw them as their whole world and how their bodies leaned into each other as if drawn by an invisible force. For a moment, Satan allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to share such a bond, to feel the joy of being deeply connected to another soul, to experience love not as an observer from the shadows but as an active participant in the light. Yet, as he watched these displays of affection and unity, his ache deepened.

While Satan was engrossed in his contemplation, you stole glances at the enigmatic stranger who had just entered your café. His presence was striking—blonde hair that fell just right, fair skin that seemed to glow under the café's lights, and deep emerald green eyes that held a universe of stories untold. Your heart fluttered as you observed him from behind the counter, his brooding demeanor only adding to his allure.

Seeing him so lost in his thoughts, so utterly alone, stirred something within you. You wanted to reach out, to offer a gesture that might pierce his solitude, even if just for a moment. Determinedly, you selected a heart-shaped cookie from the display, meticulously iced in white. It was a small token, but one infused with the warmth of human kindness. Approaching his table with a tentative smile, you placed the cookie before him, disrupting his thoughts with a gentle touch of reality.

"I thought you might enjoy this," you softly said. "The cookie is on the house, a little gift for White Day. I hope it brings a bit of sweetness to your day."

Satan's world momentarily paused the second his eyes landed on your face. The simple act of kindness, paired with your sweet smile, pierced through his haze of loneliness. As you return to the counter, he observed the lightness in your step and the bounce of your hair. After composing himself and finishing the cookie, which he found surprisingly delightful, Satan rose from his seat. With a newfound confidence, he approached the counter and slightly leaned against it.

"Excuse me," he began quietly, "Thank you for the cookie. Your kindness brightened my otherwise gloomy day. Would you…allow me the pleasure of taking you out for a coffee once your shift ends? I realize we're in a coffee shop," he added with a slight, charming smile, "but perhaps a change of scenery could provide a fresh backdrop for what I hope could be an enjoyable conversation."

His eyes locked with yours, a silent plea for companionship laced with a hint of hopeful curiosity as he waited for your response. Your heart skipped a beat at his unexpected invitation.

"Well," you whispered, a playful glint in your eye, "since we're already in a coffee shop, how about you try making a coffee for me instead? It's not every day we allow someone to come behind the counter."

Satan's expression shifted from hopeful anticipation to mild astonishment, clearly taken aback by your counteroffer. After a bit of hesitation, a smile broke through his surprise. "I accept your challenge," he declared, a spark of excitement lighting up his eyes. "I hope I can brew a cup that lives up to your standards."

With a nod, you beckoned him behind the counter, aware of the rules you were bending but too caught up in the moment to care. The café was empty, and no cameras to record the event, so the chances of you getting into trouble were slim. Your gaze followed his every movement, from familiarizing himself with the coffee machine to his gradual shift from hesitant to confident. To your surprise, Satan grasped the essence of coffee-making rather quickly.

"You seem quite at home with all of this," you remarked, unable to hide your admiration. "Have you worked in a coffee shop before?"

He glanced up, a hint of pride in his smile. "Not exactly. But I have a friend who owns a coffee shop, and I've lent a hand a few times. It's an enjoyable change of pace from my usual… engagements."

With a final flourish, he presented the latte to you, the surface adorned with an intricately designed foam cat, its whiskers and eyes crafted with impressive precision. "I hope this meets your approval."

Taking the cup in your hands, you were charmed by the artwork and the gesture. "This is amazing," you admitted, genuinely impressed. "I think you've just set a new standard for our lattes here."

One sip and your taste buds were shocked. It was as if all the flavors had been perfectly balanced to create a symphony of flavors in your mouth. "Are you sure you're not a professional barista in disguise?" You joked.

Satan's laughter momentarily filled the café with a different kind of warmth. "Perhaps I've missed my calling," he replied with a twinkle in his eyes, suggesting he was enjoying this unusual interaction.

As you took another sip, a dollop of milk foam stuck to your upper lip, unbeknownst to you. Satan's gaze lingered on the unintended mustache, and a playful smirk formed on his lips. "I must say, you wear that white mustache quite well," he teased.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and delight as you quickly wiped away the foam. But you were not prepared for Satan's next words. "I was half expecting you to ask for my assistance," he whispered, his voice dropping a few notes.

With a mischievous smile, you took another deliberate sip, ensuring a new layer of foam decorated your lip. "Well, I might just take you up on that offer," you replied, locking eyes with him.

The air between you and Satan became charged with a new spark, something neither of you expected. His thumb brushed against your skin, softly wiping away the foam, but he purposely touched your upper lip. The contact sent a ripple of sensation through you, your breath hitching slightly in response. The world seemed to pause around you both, the hum of the coffee machine and the distant city sounds fading into a hushed backdrop.

His eyes were deeply locked with yours. A mix of curiosity and a hint of something deeper was reflected in his emerald gaze. The blush that colored your cheeks was mirrored on his. It was as if time slowed, allowing you both to linger at this threshold between casual interaction and the potential for something more profound. There was a hint of a beginning, a promise of a story yet to unfold.

———————————————

➣ Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2][3] ➣ Main Masterlist

➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open ➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Closed || GIF Requests: Closed

#obey me #obey me oneshot #obey me nightbringer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #mammon x reader #mammon obey me #satan x reader #satan obey me

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drivinmeinsane · 9 months

Text

Snow ※ 12 Days of Goosemas

Day Four ※ Sierra Six / Reader

{12 Days of Goosemas Masterlist} ※ {Regular Masterlist} ※ {ao3}

※ Summary: You expected a quiet night in, but that changes when you follow a trail into the trees.

※ Rating: No mature content.

※ Content/Tags: Pre-relationship, Treatment of injuries, Caretaking

※ Word count: 1920

※ Status: Oneshot/Complete

Of course you notice that the log basket by the fireplace is empty when you’re already sprawled out on the couch, remote in hand, Christmas tree plugged in, and fully prepared to settle in for the night. You grumble as you get up and pull on your boots and your coat. Grabbing your flashlight, you open the back door and step out into the cold. You’re nearly to the shed when the beam of light picks up something unusual in its field. You come to a complete stop and examine the ground with a growing sense of horror.

The snow is churned up, something had clearly come through here recently enough. Probably within the past hour or so while you had been snugly tucked into your remotely located home. You can make out footprints. Human, likely belonging to a tall male judging from the size and the distance apart. They’re messy like the maker had been stumbling along. Your flashlight picks up dark blotches on the white. Blood. You look up, frantically scanning your surroundings for a sign of who might have left this path across your yard. There’s nothing other than the trail that leads off into the woods.

You silently backtrack to your home to grab the hunting rifle leaning against the wall in the coat closet, an assurance for living out in the middle of nowhere in the wooded hills. Feeling like a side character in a cheaply stereotypical horror movie, you go back outside to follow the trail. Flashlight off now that you’re in pursuit. You desperately want to nope out of the situation, but there is no one else around for miles to handle this. You push follow the path into the thicket. There’s a shape huddled at the base of a tree not far into the brush.

The moonlight is blocked by the branches, so you resignedly turn your flashlight on to illuminate the figure. It reveals a man dressed in bloodstained street clothes. He’s slumped forward so you can’t see his face, but his jeans are covered in a mixture of blood and snow. Some of the blood is glossy, fresh, but most of it is frozen. He is only wearing a thin windbreaker for warmth. There’s a gun resting on his lap. His fingers are slack around it, not even holding onto the weapon. They look waxy and stiff. Only his labored breathing lets you know that he’s alive.

“Hey.” He doesn’t respond to your slightly hesitant yell so you nudge his foot with the tip of your boot and try again, louder. “Hey!”

No movement, or any awareness of you at all. He just continues breathing like each exhale might be his last. Emergency services are at least forty-five minutes away, if they are even able to get through the snow at all tonight.

Gritting your teeth, you inch forward to kick the man’s outstretched leg. “Hey!”

That finally gets a response. The stranger groans and lifts his head up. He squints against the bright light you have pointed at his face and raises a shaky hand to block it. You shift so you’re pointing the rifle at him in case he gets it in his head to make any sudden movements.

“Put your other hand up too,” you order him. He complies, leaving the handgun on his lap. You can barely hear your voice over the pounding of your own heart. “What are you doing out here? You’re on my land.”

His mouth works a couple of times before he’s able to speak. When he does, his voice is hoarse. “Sorry. I got turned around.”

“Yeah? Why are you so messed up if you just ‘got turned around’?”

“Had to jump out of a moving car. The people I was with didn’t appreciate that much.” He sounds so serious that you raise your eyebrows in disbelief.

“Are you going to be trouble for me?”

“Probably not.”

“Are you going to hurt me?”

“No.” His answer is immediate, out of his mouth before your question has the chance to linger in the air.

Against your better judgment, you take his word at face value and tuck your rifle under your arm, pointed away at him. His handgun gets stowed in your waistband before you help him to his feet and sling his arm over your shoulder. The arm not occupied by your own gun gets wrapped around him. Your knees nearly buckle under the weight of him. It’s slow going to your back door. He seems to be intermittently losing consciousness. On the second of the three steps leading to the small porch, his foot drags and slips out from under him. He nearly takes the both of you down.

“C’mon,” you grit out and bodily haul him up the final stair.

The stranger slumps in your hold as you get the door open and all but drag him into your kitchen. He comes to enough to stagger through to the living room. You more or less drop him onto the couch. He sags limply into the cushions like a puppet with its strings severed.

“Can I call for medical help or do you need me to try to do a patch job?”

“Please don’t call anyone. I’ll be fine.”

You exhale hard, nerves jangling. Patch job it is. “Sit tight.”

Leaving him alone and dripping melting snow all over your couch, you gather a couple towels and the medical kit that you keep well stocked for emergencies. He is exactly as you left him when you come back in the room laden down like a pack pony. You put the supplies on the seat next to him.

“What’s your name?”

“Six.”

You want to comment on how that’s obviously not a real name, but you bite your tongue and swallow the words down. It’s not your business. Keeping him from dying on your couch is your business.

Without any further preamble, you wrestle him out of his wet clothing, leaving him in just the underwear you don’t dare to touch. Once he is stripped naked, you start examining his body to find the source of the blood. You find it immediately, but your eyes can’t help but take in the rest of him. Six, as he calls himself, is muscular, but you knew that from how heavy he was over your shoulder and in the circle of his arm, but it’s the expanse of his injuries that is more notable. It’s unsettling. He’s marked with old scars and fresher ones that are still uncomfortably raw and pink. You don’t think you want to know what this strange man does for a living. It looks as though several people have tried to kill him over the years, admittedly with limited success if his presence in your home is any indication.

Ignoring the rest of his body, you focus on the sizable gash in his size. A bullet must have burned its way across his side at a close range judging from the singeing around the edges of the wound. It’s still sluggishly bleeding, but it’s thankfully shallow enough to not be fatal in the short term. You wet a piece of gauze with disinfectant and press it against the wound. Six does not so much as flinch. He looks resigned to the pain when you glance at his face to gauge his reaction. You pinch the sides of the injury together and secure it with several meticulously placed butterfly bandages to keep it closed. Holding a thick gauze pad on the wound with your hand, you wind vet wrap around his abdomen to hold it in place. It should serve to put pressure on it to restrict the chance of bleeding and further trauma to the sight.

You’re relieved to discover that the rest of his injuries are minor in comparison. He has a slightly sprained wrist that you stabilize with more vet wrap. Unfortunately, he is covered in scrapes and abrasions. All you can do for them is to put a large band-aid on the worst of the road rash. It’s next to a tattoo that says something in Greek. Your stranger appears to be more well-versed in literature than you might have expected, not just a thug despite the obviously prison quality tattoos.

Injuries aside, the man feels concerningly cold due to the exposure to the freezing temperatures and not insignificant blood loss. You realize that if you had been more prepared and hadn’t needed to restock your log barrel, he would have likely succumbed to the elements right outside of your home. The thought of finding his body in the morning makes you shiver reflexively. You push that line of thinking aside and pick up one of the towels. You hold it in both hands and rub his extremities in between your cloth covered palms, trying to encourage circulation back into his body. It works. His fingers lose their waxy appearance and his body temperature seems to level back out. He starts shivering, a good sign that means there is no more need to worry about hypothermia. You take the fresher towel and dry his sodden hair before wiping his torso clean. His shivering gradually subsides as you work. He’s dozing off, breath whistling through his nose. Some of the tension has left his face.

Once you’re finished with him, you finally fetch the logs from the shed. On your way, you take the time to disturb the tracks. Even though it’s still snowing, you do not want to take the chance that they will be discernible by a hostile party. Knowing that you will be cleaning up anyway after you put your unexpected guest to bed, you don’t take any great pains to avoid tracking more snow into the house.

You drop your armful of logs into the basket and put a couple of them into the fireplace. They should last a while. You approach the couch, catching Six awake but not alert. He’s staring blankly at your Christmas tree, seemingly captivated by it. His eyes redirect unsteadily to you when you’re close enough to touch him. The man squints like he’s having a hard time seeing through his exhaustion.

“You an angel?”

You almost laugh, but he sounds so tired and so sincere. “No,” you tell him gently. He mumbles something unintelligible in response.

Crouching at his side, you take hold of his legs and guide him until he’s laying down, curled on his non-injured side on the cushions. Six manages to lift his head enough for you to shove a decorative pillow under it. His eyes slip closed when you cover him with the throw blankets that you always keep in the living room. You practically tuck him in. Just before you withdraw, you impulsively smooth his hair back and press a kiss to his forehead. Something in your heart tells you that he could use the comforting gesture.

You pull away, satisfied that he’ll make it through the night and that you will be able to get some food into him in the morning. Just as you turn to leave to start cleaning up the mess that has been left in the wake of his arrival, you’re brought to a halt. Six’s fingers are wrapped around your wrist just long enough to make you pause before he lets go.

“Thank you,” he says, muffled against the pillow.

Your face softens and you feel the corners of your lips rise in a smile. “You’re welcome."

#12 days of goosemas #the gray man (2022)#the gray man #the gray man fanfiction #sierra six #sierra six fanfiction #courtland gentry #sierra six x reader #courtland gentry x reader #ryan gosling #ryan gosling fanfiction #ryan gosling x reader #.my posts #.my work

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axelthegreat101 · 3 months

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Wassup y’all. Remember this?

That’s right, it’s part two time. I wanted to make it because I posted it ages ago and I wanted to make the next part. So here it is. You’re welcome <3

ʚ Confessions ɞ

It had been a few days since Scout had realised his feelings for you, and he’d been trying to distance himself from you, something that hurt you greatly. You didn’t understand it. Was it something you did? Something you said? You didn’t know. What you did know was that something was wrong with Scout. You’d tried talking to him about it, but every time he’d shut you down and say something about being tired. One day you decided that you’d had enough. It was after that day’s battle that you cornered him in the locker room, determined to know what was bugging him.

“Alright, what’s up with you?” You said, blocking the door that lead out of the room. Scout tried to get past you but you were quick to block him. “I’m serious, Scout. Why have you been avoiding me?” He winced at the hurt in your tone. He hadn’t meant to hurt you, he really hadn’t, but every time that you looked at him he could feel his heart speed up and his palms get sweaty. He was scared of you finding out about his feelings, but now it seemed like they were going to come out either way. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say.

“(Y/N)… there’s something I gotta tell ya.”

You raised your eyebrows. This didn’t sound like your Scout at all, with his quiet tone and downcast gaze. He was silently grateful for his hat, which somewhat hid his flushed cheeks.

“Okay? What is it? I won’t get mad if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“O-okay, so um… th-the thing is… I..,” Scout inwardly cursed himself for his stuttering, and your worried eyes on him didn’t make it any better. He suddenly lunged forward and crashed his lips into yours, sending you stumbling a little from the momentum. You were stunned. Was this real? Was Scout actually kissing you right now?? After a few seconds he pulls away, tipping his hat down to hide his face, which resembles an overripe tomato. You stood there staring at him, your face equally as flushed. “I-I’ve been avoiding ya because I love ya, (Y/N). I realised it when we were up on the roof. I-I understand if you hate me now or don’t want to talk to me anymore, but-“

Before he could say anything else, you lunged forward and smashed your lips against his, sending you both toppling over onto the floor. If his face wasn’t flushed before, it was now. You could actually feel the heat coming off of it. After a few seconds you pulled away, smiling broadly at him.

“You’re such an idiot.” You said. He smiled back softly and kissed you again. You lay there for a moment, kissing each other gently when a loud voice cut through your moment.

“WHAT IN SAM HILL IS GOING ON IN HERE?!” You turned to see Soldier staring down at you, his expression shocked. You glanced back at Scout, knowing you were in for an earful. He smiled lopsidedly at you. You smiled back. At least, now, you were together. And that was really mattered.

Whew, this was pretty good to write. Thanks to the anon who requested the first part, otherwise this wouldn’t exist.

-Axel

💐

Tag list

@captain-pheonix @the-laughing-lunatic

I don’t know many people lol-

#tf2 #fanfic #tf2 x reader #tf2 scout #scout tf2 #scout team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 scout #team fortress 2 x reader #tf2 fanfiction #team fortress 2 fanfiction

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0newaylane · 7 months

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One Way Lane DEMO

The demo will be free, thank you everyone!

#artists on tumblr #gamedev #indie dev #indie horror game #rpg maker #horror games #indie project #horror #pixel art #omori #silent hill #oneshot #one way lane #rpg

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goose-duck · 3 months

Text

🥧 Class Trip 🥧

~~~~~~

Maxley?? Fanfic oneshot thingy, idk, I'm sick and felt inspired. I say "maxley??" Bc it's Max and Bradley for sure but I dunno if it'll come off as romantic or not I actually have no idea what I'm writing...why am doing this when I'm sick? Oh well, enjoy ✨

~~~~~~

Our class is going on a trip today, I can't tell if I'm excited or not. We're going to a museum which isn't particularly entertaining...especially given its the one I'm employed at, but anything's better than class I suppose? I don't know why the professor decided to take us on a trip, he's usually so...uh...how do I describe him? Lame? Boring? Old? Decrepit? I should stop...before my inside thoughts become outside thoughts...though im sure everyone else is thinking the same thing. Maybe it's because it's the end of the year and he just kinda gave up? I don't know...why am I even still thinking about this?

I'm sitting where I usually sit with Bobby and PJ. We're waiting for the rest of the class...or at least most of the class, to show up so we can leave. Bobby and PJ are talking but I'm not overly interested. I started being friends with Bradley a few weeks ago...its been good...but it started off really weird. We don't talk much but there's less animosity between us now and we occasionally make light conversation. Bradley also sits with us now so that's cool I guess?? He's on the other side of me, my left side, the side of my dominant hand. Makes it difficult to write sometimes because we'll bump elbows. He's also here, he was here before everyone else, as always.

I lay my head on the table and look at him, admiring his sharp jawline and beautiful blue eyes...what..? Nevermind, he's got a nice face, it's not weird at all to think that. Right? Right! I'm not...uh...feeling things...at all. Totally normal thoughts and feelings here. I look down at the desk, silently judging myself before looking up at him again, meeting his eyes. Bradley's giving me a strange look, probably because I have my head on the table after having been so excited a few minutes ago. I'm just bored of waiting for the rest of the class. He gives me a soft smirk before rolling his eyes and going on his phone. I just continue with what I was doing.

I finally decide to say something, I say it every morning to him, "good morning, Brad." I say. He normal says good morning back but today he just looked at me before pulling out a bag of cough drops and popping one in his mouth. Ah, his throat must be sore. "You sick, Brad?" I question. He nods at me. I giggle a little, our professor's name is also Brad, it's funny, kinda.

Eventually most of the class shows up and we all start on our way to the museum. It's close enough to walk to but we have to walk down a steep hill which we all know will be miserable on the walk back up. It's a hot sunny day, 25°c, and it's only the morning. Bobby and PJ and ahead of me and Bradley by a little bit on our walk. I think Bradley is walking slower than usual because he's sick, he'd normally be out walking me and I'd have to run after him. On the walk down me and him share a few words and joke around a bit. We come to a crosswalk and a few people jaywalk instead of using the crosswalk, not a big deal but Bobby makes a joke about it being illegal before soon following suit and also not using the crosswalk.

A little further on our walk and we're on a flat spot before the next hill we have to go down. Somehow me and Bradley ended up in front of Bobby and PJ, I guess we were walking quicker than I thought. Bobby walks up to Bradley holding out a $10 bill, "Hey, Brad?" He says laughing a little. "What, Bobby?" Bradley responds, his voice sounding hoarse from his cold. "I'll give you $10 to carry me the rest of the way." Bobby suggest, holding the bill more out to Bradley. Bradley laughs, taking the money and stops walking to Bobby can get on his back. Me and PJ stop walking too to watch this. Bobby hops up on Bradley's back and Bradley let's out a huff, walking a little ways before dropping Bobby and giving him his money back. "You're heavier than you look!" Bradley says sounding a little more tired than before, "how much do you weigh!?" He quickly adds on. Bobby tells him he doesn't keep track then retorts my asking Bradley how much he weights. Apparently Bradley weighs 220 lbs...double the amount I weigh, literally, I weigh 120. Bradley then says, "fuck, you're probably heavier than I am, Bobby, no wonder you're so hard to carry!" Bobby gets offended but doesn't deny it. I laugh a little, as we all continue walking.

Eventually we get to the museum, it's a historical museum full of old artifacts from the native people of the area. I got my job here three years ago, I got in on account of being indigenous myself. They wanted indigenous people to work here with these artifacts rather than the people who colonized our land. Fair enough, and it got me a job that pays more than minimum wage, so, win for me.

When we get inside my boss introduces herself and tells us all what we'll be doing. A scavenger hunt. I already know where everything is as I helped set it up, but I don't say anything, I'll be the secret weapon to whoever decides to work with me as we're told to get into teams of two. Bobby and PJ group up and so does everyone else, leaving me and Bradley, which I'm not opposed to. My boss gives everyone their clipboards giving me a look when she got to me and Bradley. "Why'd she look at you like that?" Bradley inquires. I giggle a little, signalling him to come a little closer so I can whisper to him, "I work here." I whisper into his ear. He gives a look, "ah, how convenient, so we'll get this done in no time?" I give him a snide look, "nope, if you were a cute girl maybe I would have, but you're Bradley Uppercrust iii, I'm sure you can do this without my help." I joke, making it clear I'm not letting him use me as an advantage. Bradley sighs, rolls his eyes, then gets started on the scavenger hunt.

While Bradley does the scavenger hunt I go find some of my coworkers and chat with them. Mostly just talking about how school's been for everyone. Some found university easy, others said it was miserable, one said she didn't have the money to continue. I felt bad for her, but there's not much I can do right now. Bradley gives the clip board with the scavenger hunt sheet to our teacher, Mr. Bradley, then walks over to our group to join in on the conversation until we get told we have to go back to campus.

About an hour later Mr. Bradley calls us all to meet at the front of the building, telling us it's time to go back now. A student asks who got done the hunt first, Mr. Bradley says it was Bradley. Huh, looks like he didn't need my help after all. Good for him. A few students groan and glare at Bradley but I give him a high five. "Good job, dude! Told ya you didn't need my help!" Bradley smiles at me in response to that, ruffling my hair and giving me a thumbs up. His throat must be hurting again, poor guy. Being sick is miserable. Sick on a trip where you have to walk everywhere? Even worse.

The first part of the walk back is fine, but it's definitely a lot hotter out now. I have Bradley check his phone, it's 31°c. Holy fuck...we're gonna die on the big hill just before the school.

Once we get to that hill Bradley gives me a worried look putting his hand on my back. I'd been breathing quite heavily, I didn't find it strange, I'm used to it, it's always like this for me, anemia kicking my ass at all times of the day. I look pale and I'm sweaty and can barely think, but I know I just have to make it back to class and sit down and get a drink. Bradley doesn't seem to think I'll make it though as I stumble around the sidewalk almost falling a few times. Bradley's hold on my tightens a bit when I almost fall into an oncoming vehicle. "You sound like you're dying.." Bradley says saying stressed. I laugh before coughing a little, finding it humourous that he's sick yet I'm the one having such a hard time. Bradley offers to carry me the rest of the way but I'm too prideful to let him, telling him I can make it on my own.

Once we get to the top of the hill there's a bunch of little kids and a few adults, I recognize them from the nearby daycare center. They're adorable, this one in a pink bucket hat waves at me and Bradley so I wave back. Bradley also gives the child a small wave before pulling me along so we actually make it to the school rather than me just being distracted with the adorable children. I'd never want kids of my own, but if a friend of mine had kid's I wouldn't mind babysitting for them.

Once we get into the foyer of the school Bradley quickly tries to pull me over to a vending machine and buy me a bottle of water. While he's doing that one of my friends walk by and asks what me and Bradley were up to, point out how we both look a mess. I can't get my words out because I'm still breathing heavily from the walk so I just wave and give a thumbs up. I'm sure that'll be a satisfactory answer, right?

Bradley comes back over to me with the bottle of water, opening it for me and shoving it up to my mouth. I guess he doesn't trust me to do it myself...do I really look like I'm in that bad of shape right now? Maybe I should just take the water. I drink the water Bradley is holding up to my mouth until I swat his hand away a little so I don't drown. He pulls the bottle of water away from my lips, allowing me to breathe and screwing the lid back onto the bottle. He then hands me the water and puts a hand on my back before pushing me along back to the lecture hall so we can sit down. I give him a nod as a thanks and he smiles and nods back.

#maxley #max x bradley #bradley uppercrust iii #max goof #bradley x max #a goofy movie #goofy movie #an extremely goofy movie #maxley fic

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mars101 · 1 year

Text

Insomnia

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☆ PAIRING = ex!seonghwa x ex!reader

☆ GENRE = second chances, ex's to ???

☆ WARNINGS = slight angst, talks of miscommunication, mentions of food, they fall down a hill (😭), the pov confusing and idk either

☆ WORD COUNT = 4.8k

╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴>

★ SYNOPSIS = communication or the lack of was the reason that brought you and seonghwa apart, your friends hope that a single conversation in a locked room will bring you two back together.

★ RELEASE DATE = 10/09/23

★ SONG INSPO = insomnia -> yukika

★ AUTHOR'S NOTE = im finally done with this damn oneshot, i cant omg. months of quitting and regaining my inspiration finally payed off… ok pls have fun reading, sunny's an oc btw ok antyways happy reads !! <33

╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴>

Act 1: Our Present

"I know you two were once in love."

"So where's the place?"

Mumbles are heard through the phone as Hongjoong starts to walk towards the window. "Turn your stereo down and maybe you'll finally hear me. Are you sure you're actually here?" his words are stretched out as he cranes his neck to look out into the street. The gps on your phone continues to say one minute away, you roll your eyes as it's been saying that for the last four minutes.

"Y/n. There's three cars outside alright?-" 'Okay" "We are the third house from the top of the hill-" "Why so high?" "And then Wooyoung and... oh wait.. Wooyoung and Seonghwa should be outside."

The car goes silent as now the only thing you hear is the soft rumbling of the car and the faint sounds of the music you turned down earlier. I mean you knew you were going to see him eventually but you didn't think it'll be this soon.

"Do you want me to make an excuse for him to come inside?"

Hongjoong's question brought you out of your silence, "No no, I mean it's been a year now, I should be alright." Keyword: "Should". It seems that after he said that, the house your friends had rented popped into view as you see the two mentioned.

"Oh is that you-" "Okay bye." You hang up on Hongjoong as Wooyoung starts to wave at you in the car, for someone who drove for two hours he looks far too cheerful. To his right was him. The smile that kept you up at night plastered on his face as you two kept the eye contact for longer than the eye contact for exes should be.

"Y/n noona!, lower the window!!"

"Wooyoung, you don't need to yell when you are right outside the window" said boy instantly leans into the car once the window is fully rolled down, already making himself comfortable. "So what? I just wanted to talk to you, it's been too longgg" he was dragging out his words as his bottom lip poked out.

You poked his forehead as you gestured him to move away, "Woo, I was at your birthday party two months ago. Now move it's cold, some people want to go inside." Wooyoung let you turn your car off as he went to the trunk of your car to help you bring stuff in. (it was only three things)

As you stepped out of your car you heard another set of footsteps come near you. The breath gets caught in your throat as you already know who's going to be behind you. The soft and clean scent still follows him after a year, oh how much you missed it.

"Do you need any help?" The sparkle in his eyes as he looks down at you has you wondering if this is real or a dream. Even at Wooyoung's birthday you were having a hard time even looking at him from across the room, but now that he's right in front of you it's making you feel as if every single emotion you've once felt with him is coming back like like a storm.

"Oh, I- Uh- I think-" "Hyung, I left the heavy things for you" Wooyoung makes eye-contact with you and he sends a wink your way. As you turn back to Seonghwa you notice he's looking at your necklace. His necklace that he gave you for your first anniversary. "Well uh, I think you can help me with the bag then."

The first few steps you two took to the trunk of your car was so awkward as you both didn't know what to say. "So, how have you been? I would've talked to you before at Wooyoung's party but I was too scared honestly", "You? Scared?" You couldn't help but to stare at him as a small smirk grew on his face. "Wait, I wouldn't say scared then, maybe just nervous,"

As he handed you your smaller bag and pulled out the bigger bag you also noticed something. A watch. The watch you gave him on that same anniversary.

knock knock knock

"Oh god, what are the kids doing up there.." You follow the direction of his eyes which is where the knocks came from as you see the 99's now scolding San for knocking at the window. "I think we should go inside now, Wooyoung started to eat your snacks." His pointed finger leads to Wooyoung inside flailing the bag of chips around as he walks in a circle around the poor boy.

The place they rented was big, but it felt full with the light music that was playing from Jongho's speaker and the sounds of yelling from the dining area.

You feel Seonghwa take your bag from your shoulder as his warm hand lingers just a bit longer than needed. "Y/n, I'll bring this to your room. Ah, Joong told you that you're rooming with Sunny right?" You nod remembering that it was actually said girl who texted you after months, excited that the two of you will be sharing a room.

"Yeah yeah. I'll be over there greeting everyone so.." The words trail away as it becomes silent again but the man in front of you keeps his smile as he turns you around pushing you lightly towards where everyone is.

The noise becomes louder as you step into the room, only Hongjoong and Jongho seems to notice you as the rest excluding Yeosang and Sunny are somewhere else.

"Hey hey!" The younger of the two raises his hand as a greeting as you give the other a hug. "Hi to our Jongho~ and bye to this loser over here", "Loser?? Did you forget who won the race to the rest station?", "Race??? You only said that after you got there!"

Out of all the people here (there's only 10 including you) you’ve known these two the longest. Meeting both Hongjoong and Jongho in the gym class that included each grade during high school. After beating the two in the class run, races for literally anything has become apart of your friendship.

“Alright alright we already have one argument going on we don’t need another…Noona you were the latest to arrive here though..” A smack on the boy’s shoulder followed with a chuckle from him made you realize. Why are those four still arguing?

“What are they talking about?” As you pushed yourself up onto the counter the two had been sitting on Hongjoong puts his arm around your shoulders slightly shaking you. “How San ruined the moment you and Seonghwa had out there” “M-moment, we were just- he was just helping me with my bags.”

He turned his head to Jongho who’s shaking his head in disagreement with the other, “Hyung. That is not a “moment” the two couldn’t even hold eye contact for that long.” “Exactly why it was a moment. The two were so shy after seeing each other they couldn’t look into each other’s shining eyes.” He turns to you teasingly batting his eyelashes.

You push him off you as the three of you are left with smiles on your faces, then eye-contact is shared with the boy who has been scolded for the last 5 minutes. A yelp is let out from him as he finally sees you entered the room. “Ahhh, when did you get in here???”

The three boys freeze then look at where San was looking at. As you wave to them Mingi seems to be startled too when he flinched grabbing onto Yunho's arm for support. “Y/n noona!! It's so nice to see you again!” Yunho said shaking Mingi's arm off heading towards you for a hug.

“I was so worried that you wouldn't come this year, I remember that one year where you didn't come and- Oh, did you hear about what I said about Seonghwa hyung earlier?” His face fell in realization that you were there for most of their banter.

“Oh come on, you know I always used to block out your petty arguements.” he let out a breath as you lightly punched his shoulder. “Noona it's good that you didn't hear what Yunho said because he was always there when Seonghwa-”

Mingi's mouth was covered with a slap by Wooyoung who started to drag the poor boy out of the room. “Oh hey, where's Yeosang? I think we should go look for him, right Mingi? Okay see you guys later”

Silence was shared with you five still in the room until San broke it, “That guy needs to work on his exits.”

As they now lead into a more civilized conversation you head out of the room to where you will be staying. When you enter the room you see Sunny laying on her bed with a half cleared out suitcase on the floor.

“Y/n!!!” The bright girl practically jumps up from the bed to engulf you in a warm hug. “Sunnyyy we were talking not that long ago” the smile on you face being heard as the girl was always so nice to you.

“Hon. I think a month is a long time ago, are you feeling alright here?” She pulls away from the hug slightly keeping her arms around you. “Because like.. you know who is here..”

“Sunny. You can say his name you know? And you were always closer to him than you were with me” the two of you then sit on the bed you were going to be sleeping on.

Her hands are soft as they caress your own, “Yeah I know but..” The breath she takes in makes you worried about her next words.

“Look, I'm not sure what happened to the two of you. But I know that you were once in love, love is something hard to get rid of once its happened and so I hope you'll be comfortable here.”

Act 2: Our Past

"I just reached for you without thinking,"

The next day you all were headed to the ski resort which was near the place you guys had rented out. The 10 of you were split into cars with Seonghwa and Hongjoong being the designated drivers for the 2 cars. During the car ride there, which was only twenty minutes, the two sitting next to you were Sunny and Yeosang. Next to Hongjoong in the front of the car was Jongho who claimed the seat by "falling asleep" as soon as he hit the chair.

"Soooo, have you been dating recently?" the girl to your right says as you pick your head off the window. "Not really," "Why?", Yeosang then pokes his head out from his spot next to Sunny as the two now look at you as if they're scheming something. Hongjoong looks back through the mirror as his eyebrows furrow at the two, "Why are you two so-", "Noona's been single for too long" Jongho cuts him off as he talks in a sleepy voice.

"Jongho you're awake?" Sunny leans her head to the front trying to see him. "I'm sleep talking."

Before Sunny can react to his statement Yeosang puts his arm in front of her to pull her back as he tells you, "Noona, it's been too long since we've talked to you so we just want to catch up!". As he says that, Sunny leans on you making herself comfortable on your shoulder, "Yeah hon, a lot can happen in 10 months."

"But then again nothing can happen in 10 months too," you lay your head on hers as Hongjoong starts to pull the car into the place. "It's been hard finding someone new, because these days no one is... what's the word..? Uhhh-"

knock knock knock

The knocks on the window startle you as both you and Sunny jump. "AH JUNG WOOYOUNG!" He waves behind the window as everyone else starts to exit the car. Wooyoung opens the door for you and Sunny acting like he didn't just startle the two of you.

As Sunny starts to chase him like they're kids again, you head over to where a majority of your friends are. "Ah, Y/n noona, what do you think?" Yunho asks as he bumps his arm on your side. "Do we eat first or should we go and snowboard?"

"Eat? But we just ate breakfast earlier?-" , "Guys, you see that! That's why we should go snowboard first!" You anticipate the upcoming debate between the group as you look around for where the usual peacemakers are.

Both Seonghwa and Hongjoong are taking pictures by the entrance as you decide to walk towards them. Seonghwa watches your every move towards them as a smile grows on his face, "Seonghwa!! Good smile, this picture will turn out perfect"

By the time you reach them Hongjoong is on the ground getting the perfect angle and Seonghwa waves you over to come next to him. Hongjoong notices this and turns his head, "Oh Y/n join the picture, I just got the perfect angle"

The man on the floor makes you feel as if you're on the cover of Vogue with the way he seems to snap a pic every split second. The blinding flash from his phone is as bright as the white snow everywhere. "Alright alright, you took a lot of pictures already." Next to you Seonghwa brings up a hand to block your eyes from the light.

"Ah wait wait. Just one more..?"

You held the hand in front of your view bringing it down to look at your friend but something behind him takes your attention. "Oh not again.."

The three of you looked at each other before you went over to the booming crowd of your friends. Their voices carrying through-out the entrance (which you're all still in by the way).

"No! I'm telling you, eating first is better before skiing!!"

"Wooyoung-ah I love you but no-"

"Ah ah kids be quiet. What do you guys think?"

Seonghwa looked at you as you shrugged at him gesturing him to just answer, "uhh I think we should just go ski or snowboard first because we already ate earlier."

"Wow of course the two love birds say the same thing."

...

....

Sunny....

The once noisy group of friends were now silent as everyone stared at Sunny who now seemed to realize what she said. In a panic she bursts out in a laugh at the awkwardness that she created, the others joined in slowly as they look around for something more interesting.

Hongjoong, who was deep in thought the whole time broke the awkwardness, "Why don't we just split up? The ones who want to eat go eat first and the others go skiing and snowboarding first." Murmurs of agreement went around as some felt embarrassed because of the simple solution.

"Okay then byebye~~" Sunny was the first to head inside the building to eat dragging Hongjoong with her. You felt something (or someone) get pulled away from your hands as Jongho put himself between you and Seonghwa, "You young people are so cute holding hands"

A smack on both of his shoulders from the two of you came after his comment with the tall duo snickering at the side. The three of them went on forward into the place as you and Seonghwa were left side by side.

╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴>

"Did you ever want to see what'll happen if you fall off this swing?"

"Ask another stupid question and I'll push you off your seat."

Your foot that isn't connected to the snowboard you rented knocked into the boy's foot next to you. Jongho was seated in between you and Seonghwa, Mingi and Yunho were in the row in front of you guys and kept on turning around occasionally to wave at you three.

Behind the seat your arm and Seonghwa's kept on bumping into each other. In a way, they were like magnets wanting to stay together. "Oh my what is this?"

The younger one put the two of your arms together as he then layed on it, "My arm rests are back," His comment made the two of you scoff but the proud expression on his face was too cute to make you mad.

Seonghwa made eye contact with you before the two of you made a silent agreement. "Oh is the baby happy??" Seonghwa ruffled the boy's hair as you pinched his cheek, "Aww, our baby is so so happy"

"Alright alright, I'll get off," his pouted look made you lean him onto your shoulder. Another wave was sent towards Mingi who turned around again as a squeeze was felt from Seonghwa's hand which was still on your arm.

Jongho let out an exaggerated sigh as you locked eyes with Seonghwa, "Honestly.. I missed this," he mumbled into your shoulder. "Missed what?"

"Well, this. I missed when you two would act like my parents." you used your other hand to pat his head while your eyes stayed locked on Seonghwa's. "I missed it too Jong."

The eye contact was broken as you heard a loud laugh from Yunho after it seemed Mingi fell forward when getting off his seat. "Man I hate this part the most." With a grunt you jumped off the slow swing with the other two following.

While pushing yourselfs forward Jongho proposed an idea. "Let's have a race down the slope," Yunho was the first to answer with a nudge of his arm, "Okay~ I'm in!"

Mingi puts his arms around the two boys pushing his head on theirs, "Loser pays for food later, right?", "Of course loser pays!," your voice is a bit muffled as you're leaned over with your hand on Seonghwa for support as you put your other foot in the board.

"You guys can do your race and I'll just pay later."

"Oh, hyung why? Is it because you're the only one who picked skiing?"

"What? No, I'm just too slow so-"

The things that happened next were so quick that you could miss it if you weren't paying attention. And you were definitely not focused on the conversation happening.

“Ayyy Seonghwa hyung that doesn't matter, you can still— OH NO!” Jongho paired his words with what was supposed to be a light punch on the shoulder but the boy forgot his own strength.

Your hand still holding onto Seonghwa was pulled as he fell from the impact of Jongho's “light” punch. A wave of profanities escaped your mouth as the two of you rolled down the hill. The male wrapped his arms around you tightly as he repeatedly apologized while keeping a protective hand behind your head.

Luckily your fall stopped before you made the halfway mark of the hill. As you got off of Seonghwa and sat up the words that were going to come out of your mouth halted as his hand slowly ruffled the snow out of your hair.

“Are you okay?” his question snapped you out of your trance as you slapped his hand away, “Of course I'm not.. you didn't need to drag me down with you…” Despite the harsh slap from you he continued to help brush the snow off you.

You let him as the silence engulfed the two of you again, but this time it felt comfortable. The sounds of your breathing was all you heard as you stared at the man in front of you. His features are still as beautiful as they were the last time you admired him.

As his hand went from your hair to your cheek, the two of you locked eyes. “W-why did you pull me down with you..?” The intense eye contact made you nervous as the two of you slowly leaned in.

His nose was eventually touching yours and his warm breath which contrasted the cold air around you radiated on your lips. Before the small gap was closed between you he used his other hand to hold yours as he answered your question.

“I just reached for you without thinking..”

Act 3: Our Future

“More like too late.”

"So..?"

"So what?"

“Oh come on, you think I wouldn't notice when two of my best friends all of a sudden become awkward and nervous with each other, well.. again.”

You and Hongjoong were in the small office that the rented house had, it was late and after the ski resort him and Sunny noticed your mood changes. The couch you two were sitting on was small, meaning there was no space between you two during the conversation.

“Jongho pushed Seonghwa and he dragged me with him down the hill.”

The couch started to shake a little as the man next to you tried to hold in his laughter. Eventually his shakes became giggles and giggles became a full on cackle.

“Are you done yet?”

“No of course not, that's hilarious,”

His laughter continued for a bit until he finally calmed down, manually breathing in and out to control himself before he loses his composure again.

“Alright okay, is that it? I mean falling down a hill together can be embarassing..”

“We kissed.”

The slow fade from a smile to a shocked expression on Hongjoong's face almost scared you with how his whole body melted as his hand even grabbbed onto you for support.

He shook his head to get his thoughts back together as you started to get nervous.

“Well it wasn't really a kiss kiss though, it was only a few seconds because I heard the others coming down the hill after us and-”

“OH MY GOD.”

Your rambling was cut off as Hongjoong now started to freak out, “YOU KISSED?? HOW? WHY? WHAT?”

“Joong. The kiss was probably an in the moment action. It probably meant nothing to him.”

Your voice drifted off as you unknowingly held onto your necklace. Hongjoong notices this and recognizes the necklace that Seonghwa gave you.

“But it meant something to you didn’t it?” he took your silence as an answer as he asked another question, “You still love him don’t you?”

“Of course I still do, we were together for over two years and known each other for longer but our relationship ended in such a regretful way.”

Just as Hongjoong’s hand was about to comfort your shoulder there was a knock at the door. Sunny’s head poked through the door as she smiled at you and gestured for Hongjoong to come out the room, “Oh, I’ll be back Y/n.” when Hongjoong left the room another person was pushed into the room.

The door behind Seonghwa was slammed shut as he was in panic because of the forceful entrance. You watched in confusion as he tries to jiggle the door knob that is being held on the outside by Sunny. Seonghwa gives up with a sigh and turns to you, eyes full of longing as are yours too.

“Hi.”

…..

The room was filled with silence, the only thing heard was the sounds of your breaths. Seonghwa walked closer and sat right next to you. His scent engulfs you as there’s little space between you two. When you turn to look at him, he’s already looking at you.

“I’m sorry about that kiss earlier. I think I just.. missed us.”

You can’t help but to stay silent after his statement, your head was now lowered as your eyes shut.

“Y/n.. why’d you leave me?

“Because you left me first.”

The words were barely audible as they came out of your mouth, but you know he heard it as Seonghwa looked at you with a mixture of sadness and regret in his eyes, and you felt your heart ache at the sight. For a moment, it was as if you were transported back in time to the day when everything ended between you two.

Seonghwa's voice wavered slightly as he spoke, his confusion evident. "Left you? What? It... it was you who ended things between us, Y/n."

“Seonghwa.. did you not realize how much you distanced yourself from me? The last few weeks of our relationship was filled of you practically ignoring me at some points.” Seonghwa's eyes were glimmering in confusion and guilt.

Your gaze softened, and you let out a sigh, leaning back against the couch. The words seemed to hang in the air, a mix of memories and emotions swirling around you both. "I guess we remember our last months together differently..."

Seonghwa kept his eyes on you even when the eye contact was broken as his words were filled with sincerity. “Y/n, I love you. But I was second-guessing myself and thinking I was too clingy and too pushy with you. I was distancing myself to make you less uncomfortable.”

“Why didn't you just talk to me..? Even when I broke up with you, you could have at least said something” You feel your voice waver as it starts to get hard to get words out of your mouth.

“I just wanted what you wanted..”

“But all I wanted was you.”

As those words leave your lips, you feel a few tears run down your face. At the sight of them Seonghwa lets his own tears run free too, he brings his hands to your face to wipe them away and at his touch you break down on him.

He pulls you into a hug as your tears start to soak his t-shirt and his own get lost in your hair. Your arms wrap around him, longing for this feeling again for months. “I never wanted to leave you hwa..” Seonghwa plants a small peck on the top of your head, “I know y/n, I know darling..”

“I should've just talked to you.. I don't know why but I was so scared, I didn't want to lose you. But turns out not even saying something made us break up anyways…” You feel Seonghwa’s hand caress your back while he talks which makes you melt into his touch.

“I'm sorry hwa, I still love you. Never stopped..” You stay quiet after saying that, wanting to bask in the feeling of being close to him again. In a cold room there's the embers of the flame growing again between the two of you.

“Y/n… would you let me take you out again after this trip? On a date.. we can wait a few more days of talking again before you say—”

“I'll go on a date with you Seonghwa and we’ll hold hands and hug and kiss and-” Before you can finish your sentence he pecks your lips, “Too soon?” Seonghwa looks into your eyes with stars in his.

The tears in your eyes from earlier faded away as the grin on your face replaced them. Your hands go to rest on his cheeks as they start to glow a pretty pink. Your noses start to tickle each other as you pull him closer, breath feathering on each others lips.

“More like too late.”

★☆★ AUTHOR'S GOODBYE = AND THE CROWD GOES WILD!!! i took so long to write this one-shot that i literally got into and out of a relationship twice… and omg i was supposed to finish this by January but its october now ;-; but anyways thank you for reading! YAYAYAY

☆★☆ TAG LIST = @loonaluvz @sanasour @boomhoon

#ateez x reader #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez oneshot #ateez fic #ateez au #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa ff #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa oneshot #seonghwa #RAHHHHHHHHHHH IM FINALLY DONE YAYAAY

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