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hellodropbear · 2 days

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like she used to (II)

alexia putellas x sister.

chapter I

~~~~~~

My fingers are dancing on the piano keys, the soft melody leaving my mouth in a quiet hum when Alba walks into my room that night. My mouth closes as the door opens, but my fingers are unstoppable, continuing to abuse the keys as I continue to play the song.

My hands rest on the last keys I pressed when I am done and I think Alba is crying, unless she suddenly has allergies. It is quiet for a few moments before she speaks.

"If you weren't so good at football I would try and convince you to do this forever."

She sighs, standing up and motioning for me to follow her as she laid on my bed. I move beside her, my head now resting on her shoulder.

"I remember when you first played the piano." She smiles, reminiscing on the fond memory. "You were three, you couldn't reach the pedals but you insisted that Papi taught you something. You made us all squish onto the sofa in his office so we could listen to you play and you gave us a very slow and broken version of La Vaca Lechera. It was terrible but Papi was so proud because you had only been playing for a month and could already play with both hands. He picked you up and claimed that you would be the greatest piano player to ever walk the planet. He would be so proud of his pequena superestrella."

"I wish I knew him." They're the only words I can bring myself to say.

"He was a very good man, I miss him a lot. He would have been so proud of Ale with all her football and so proud of you with it too. And your piano. Mami sometimes says to me that you are a mini him."

I realise she is avoiding herself, a habit she got herself into a few years ago, when I followed in Alexia's footsteps by securing my spot in La Masia. She used to be upset, it was unfair. Why had the football gene just skipped her?

"He would be proud of you as well, Alba."

She shrugs, I think she tries to blinks away tears but doesn't succeed because one lands on my head

"I hope so..." she pauses. "It is harder for me to imagine because I am not outstanding at anything like you and Alexia. I am just Alba which is ok but I just don't know what he would be proud of me for."

"There is no such thing as 'just Alba' because you are the best person I know. You don't need to play football for him to be proud of you. Do you realise you are the person we all go to when we need anything? When I am sad, Alba, when I am happy, Alba, when I want to laugh, Alba, when I want to cry, Alba. You are my answer for everything, hermana. That is better than any song on the piano or the biggest trophy there is to be won."

"You are so cute, I love you." She giggles quietly and wraps her arms around me. "Aitana called me earlier and I wanted to come over and make sure you are ok."

"What did she say?"

"Not much, she just asked if everything was ok between you and me and Ale. I didn't tell her the truth, if you were wondering."

"What did you say?"

"I just said that Alexia is struggling with her injuries and that you both are very busy. I don't think she really believed me. Either that or she knows there is something else going on."

I groaned. "She kept giving me looks as we were driving home and it was annoying."

"It's sweet, she's looking out for you." Alba smiles and ruffles my hair. "You are only a little baby to them. 15 is young, pequena!"

"Yeah, well it'd be nice if my own sister did that, wouldn't it." I snap back at her and she recoils slightly.

"You won't let me do anything about it, Elena, so don't get feisty with me! Alexia is complicated and I can't even get anything out of her." She rolls her eyes. Alba is sick of all of the tension. She has been for a while.

"I don't know what to say to her anymore. Does she even know that I was called up?"

"Mami said that she wasn't going to tell her because she wanted her to hear it from you."

"She had no problem telling me when Alexia got a new girlfriend." I'm petty about it, but sometimes I think I deserve to be.

"I cannot believe you still have not met Olga." Alba sighs, flopping back down onto my mattress. "She is very nice, I think you would like her."

"I am good at getting out of things." I shrug my shoulders and Alba rolls her eyes again. "I don't want to meet her."

"You liked Jenni so much, maybe this could be the same?"

"I still talk to Jenni, on the phone. Maybe we should start an anti- Alexia Putellas club."

Alba groans and sits up, causing me to grunt in annoyance as my head is knocked onto the mattress.

"You know I don't like all of this venom between you two, so please just leave me out of it. I've had enough of you not telling me what the problem is, I am so, so sick of it. You used to be so close that I was jealous of your relationship and now all you do is complain about each other to me." She flops back onto my mattress in frustration.

"You don't understand, Alb, you don't understand what it is like for someone you idolise to practically forget your existence. She used to come to all my games and now she doesn't even know I was called up." She rolls her eyes as I move back to the piano stall, ignoring the way my voice cracked and my eyes sting with tears.

"Mierda, Elena! How many times do I have to tell you? She has been so busy. I'm sure she has tried to get to them." Even Alba can't explain Alexia's absence.

"Si, si, you have said that before but you can't understand because she never forgot about you. You didn't used to have an older sister who used to drive you to all of your trainings and games before she decided she was too busy for you and shoved you on the Barcelona busses at the age of 11!" My fingers begin to ghost the keys. Like I said to Aitana, the piano is a good outlet for my emotions. I am glad Mami let me put Papi's old piano into my room. I don't think she is glad when I wake her up in the dark hours of the morning playing loud songs.

"I have an older sister and a younger sister who used to be close and then fell out. I have a father who is dead and a busy mother. We were indestructible, Elena, but look at us now."

My left hand finds a chord and presses down on the four keys, calming my brain down.

"I am sorry that you are hurt by what has happened between Alexia and I, but I am so upset and I don't know what to do."

Alba's eyes softened but I looked down at the keys in front of me, sighing softly as she sat next to me.

"I'm sorry I can't help you more. I don't truly know what happened, but I just want things to go back to the way they were."

"I want that too." A tear found it's way from the back of my eyes but I wiped it away before it had a chance to fall down my cheek.

My fingers picked up another tune, familiarity gracing through my fingertips, the sounds floating around the room. Alba's head rests on my shoulder again and we both tell ourselves it will be ok. Alba likes when I play the piano because if she closes her eyes she can pretend it is our father.

"He was never as good as you are, hermanita."

~~~~~~

The rest of the training week went well. Better than well, but I was mainly just relieved that I wasn't a big disappointment.

The negative of my good performance is that I will be put on the team list. Jonatan pulled me aside after training today and told me I am on it and I thanked him with a smile, hiding my emotions.

I knew my sister was going to find out sooner or later. I'm honestly surprised it has taken her this long, it is not like she has been completely absent from the training grounds. Aitana seems to be the only one who has noticed that me and Alexia have not spoken, but she still has not got anything out of me.

I tell Mami to lock the doors and windows when the team list comes out because I don't want to face Alexia when she inevitably comes over and asks about it. She tells me to stop being ridiculous.

I manage to lock myself in my room when I hear her car coming up the driveway. As soon as she is in the house I climb out the window and walk to the bus stop. I don't want to deal with her tonight. I don't want to deal with her ever, to be honest.

The bus driver smiles at me as I tap on, heading to the back of the bus, no destination in mind. I am happy to just sit there as it drives through my home. My phone is unsurprisingly buzzing of the hook, full of congratulatory messages from friends and family and strangers and fans.

Aitana: *attachment: 1 file* very very proud of you! congrats little lena.

She had screenshotted the team list and put a big heart around my name and I think that might be what started to tears.

But before I knew i could see tears tracking down my face in my reflection as I stared out the window, my mind just wishing that things were normal. Wishing that I was at home celebrating with my family, excited to finally be on the same team as my older sister. I wish I wasn't crying on a bus trying to escape confrontation with my sister who I know will be disappointed that I am on her team.

But this is how it is.

I find myself getting off the bus outside the park near the training grounds, still not sure where I am going. I was considering heading in, practicing my shooting or going to the gym, although I expect they will be closed.

What I don't expect is to hear someone calling out to me.

"Pequena Putellas!" The voice is familiar and I recognise it almost immediately. "What is my little replacement doing out so late in the middle of Barcelona?"

Mapi reached me quickly despite the crutches that she doesn't seem to be relying on too heavily.

"Congratulations, replacement! First team sheet-" she stops when she sees my face. "oh."

"Hola Mapi." I put on a smile but it is a weak effort. "I'm just heading home."

"Si, this is about you and Ale, no?" I look at her curiously and she rolls her eyes. "You don't think I wouldn't have noticed? She is my best friend!"

"And that is why I can't talk to you! I have to go home because they will be looking for me." She rolls her eyes again.

"You are coming over to my house and we are talking about this like grown-ups because you are now a professional athlete. You are not a grown up but you have grown up since I saw you last pequena!" She smiles lightly and uses one arm to pull me into a hug. It is awkward with her crutches. "I have missed you so much." Her words are mumbled quietly into my hair, her arms warming me with comfort and nostalgia.

Apparently, the new apartment Mapi has moved into with Ingrid is right across the road from the park so we walk back, Mapi getting increasingly frustrated as I become more and more reluctant.

"Maria, please just let me go home?"

She was adamant that she wanted to talk. I just think she wants to know what happened between me and Alexia but I can't tell her. She wouldn't understand. Nobody would understand because everyone would just think I'm being childish and petty. Maybe that's just what I am.

We stand in silence as the elevator takes us up the levels to the apartment.

"Ingrid is not home, she is out with Frido tonight so you do not have to talk to her."

I let out a quiet exhale in relief. Ingrid is nice enough from what I know of her in training but I don't want to have this unwanted conversation in front of anyone else.

Mapi and I used to be close. She was never my favourite but that is mainly because I saw her so often that the novelty of her had worn off quickly and I found myself gravitating away from her at trainings because, like Alexia, she was just always around.

But Mapi loved me like I was her little sister because she never had any of her own. She did a lot for me as a child and tried to pretend that she wasn't offended by my blatant favouritism of other players.

She sat down on the sofa in her living room as soon as she opened the door and I grabbed her crutches that she had thrown on the floor and stood them up against the wall.

"Thankyou, now sit here." She patted the seat beside her and I sat down, my arms crossed. "Do you want to tell me why you were crying alone in the middle of Barcelona, 45 minutes away from home?"

I shook my head.

"Will Mami be mad?" I hate the wobble in my voice.

"No, I texted her and told her you were with me and she said it is ok. She is not mad at you, pequena."

"I don't like being called that anymore." I slumped down in my seat.

"What do you want to be called?" I am surprised that she didn't ask why. I suppose it might be obvious.

"I usually just get called my name." I pause. "Elena."

She smiles lightly, though I can see the water in her eyes.

"I know your name. I know you very well, Lena, I have for a long time but I also know your sister very well and I know that there have been problems for a while now and I know that she is trying her very best to not make it obvious that it is ripping her up and you are doing a very bad job of hiding your sadness. Why did you not tell her you had been called up into the first team?"

I roll my eyes but choose not to respond.

"No, don't roll your eyes at me, peque- Elena. I understand something must have happened but it is big news that you neglected to tell her!"

"What is bigger news? Breaking up with your girlfriend or being called up as a replacement in a football team?"

She hesitated and I continued.

"Getting a new girlfriend or being called up as a replacement? Buying a dog or being called up as a replacement? Being told you are about to win the Ballon d'Or or being called up as a replacement? She told me nothing for so long so don't you dare try and tell me that I should tell her about my life when she does not care to tell me about hers!"

Mapi recoiled and I immediately felt guilty.

"Sorry."

"No, don't be sorry. What else has she done to make you upset?"

"No, Mapi, we're not doing this because you don't need to know about what my sister has done to me. I don't need a psychologist, I just need to grow out of being the pathetic and weak baby Putellas. The younger sister of La Reina who has not had to work hard because her pathway has already been paved and everything has been handed to her on a silver platter." My voice is bored, like I am in front of a class, presenting a boring speech that I have practiced in my bedroom for weeks.

"Why do you say that? Where is this all coming from?" Her voice raises slightly and her arms wave about as she speaks.

"Because it is true, Maria, why else would things be the way they are? I don't deserve this, it's only been given to me because of my surname." My voice is clearly becoming more urgent and I try to calm myself down. It doesn't work.

"Where are you getting this from? You need to stop making this stuff up in your head and telling it to yourself because it could not be further from the tr-" Mapi's voice was raised, only slightly, but I could hear the wobble in her voice.

"I am not telling myself this stuff, Alexia did! And Alexia is right, she always has been and she always will be. She is a football geek she knows everything."

Mapi pauses, her mouth opening like a goldfish and her eyes staring straight into mine for any hint of exaggeration or lies. She found none. I have never been a liar.

"She... she said that? To you?" Mapi was surprised. How could her best friend have said something like that to the little girl that meant the world to her? "Alexia said that to you?"

I regret my small outburst immediately; I didn't want to tell Mapi. My fingers begin to get restless, my heart racing, my gum held firmly between my teeth. It is in these moments that I would move to the piano and prepare myself to play a song. My fingers ghost imaginary keys by my side as I take a deep breath, preparing myself to beg and plead; to do whatever I need for Mapi to forget everything I just said.

"No, you cannot say anything, Maria, this is all a lie, I am dramatic, I am making it all up. Please, just forget I said anything. Please." Tears began to slip out of my eyelids and the expression on my face can only be described as desperation.

"calma, calma. vale. I will forget everything and I will not tell anybody, as long as you don't want me to. But pequenita, it is not true, not true at all and you don't deserve for anybody at all to speak to you like that. You are talented, so talented that I am jealous of you, not your natural talents but your work ethic, Elena, your work ethic is admirable. You are so strong and you have worked for every single opportunity you have been offered and do not ever-" I look away from her.

"Look at me, Elena, look." I look towards her again and notice the water in her eyes.

"Do not ever let anybody tell you otherwise and if you do you call me up immediately and they will get a piece of my mind, si?"

I slump into Mapi's familiar arms and let out a small cry and she just squeezes me harder. I haven't ever told anyone that much of the conversation I had with Alexia - not even Alba - and to hear her best friend attempt to squash any of the worries I had about myself was refreshing. My fingers begin to ghost imaginary piano keys, preparing to begin playing a piece.

"Was this before or after you transferred to La Masia? That is around when she stopped going to your games, no?" Her voice was soft and I felt the need to answer.

"It was during the party that Mami held, when my spot at the academy was accepted. That was the reason why I started crying when I was talking to you. You probably don't even remember that, it was so long ago." I let out a dry chuckle and she rubbed her hand down my back.

"I remember. I remember thinking you were not telling me the truth but I had no idea what was wrong. You have been suffering in silence ever since?"

I don't want to nod my head because it feels dramatic to say that.

"I told Alba only a little bit of it but nobody else knows. Please, please, please don't tell anybody. Not Mami, not Alexia, not anyone. Please." I looked up at her and she stared at me wordlessly for a few moments before exhaling softly.

"Elena..." She pauses again. "As much as I want to go and give your stupid sister a piece of my mind I will not but on the condition that you talk to Alba or your Mami or me or anyone about it, si? Even Alexia. Maybe she has forgotten. But she misses you, that much I can tell."

I nod, wordlessly making a promise that I know I can not keep. She seems to be satisfied though and changes the topic.

"vale, buena. It is too late to drive you home so you will stay here tonight and Ingrid and I will drive you to Johan tomorrow, si?"

I nod, I do not have a choice.

"Is there a piano in this apartment?"

~~~~~~

Mapi saying she had a piano is an overstatement, it is a keyboard with Norwegian inscriptions that was shoved into the corner of the unused study. Apparently Ingrid does not play the piano but has always wanted to learn.

But, I take the equipment for what it is and sit on the stall, flicking through the different sounds for a while before I find something I like. The office chair behind me squeaks as Mapi sits down but I ignore her presence as I place my fingers on the keyboard.

She would have noticed the release of tension in my shoulders when I sat down. She would have noticed the sigh of relief that I released as my fingers placed themselves on the keyboard.

The song starts out slow. Ludovico Einaudi is one of my favourite composers. His notes sing out from the keyboard speakers and soon they become faster and more intense. Nuvole Bianche is a pretty song, in my opinion, and I like to make up stories as I play it whenever I do. Sometimes I relate to the stories and other times I do not.

But the song builds and builds until a brief pause in the middle in which I hear Mapi sniffling and there is shuffling downstairs. Ingrid must have arrived home. The song picks back up quickly and before I know it the last few chords are ringing out through the room and Mapi has come to stand behind me and is rubbing her hand down my back.

"The last song you played me was un elefante se balanceaba and now you are playing this. You made us sing along and you went all the way to 50, we were in there for a long time. But now you have grown up. You are still so young but you have grown up now I am so proud of you."

I can hear the tears in her eyes so I stand up and pull her into a hug. I feel guilty, she is Alexia's best friend and I accidentally slipped what Alexia said which could potentially drive them apart. But I can't help but feel relieved, I feel comfort which is something I have been looking for for such a long time. Mapi used to be like a sister to me. I don't think I even realised how much I have missed her.

"That song was so hard!"

She chuckles into the hug and I do too.

Maybe I deserve to feel like this every once in a while.

~~~~~~

hope you enjoyed x

chapter III

#woso fanfics #woso #woso imagine #woso one shot #alexia putellas #alexia x reader #barcelona femeni #fcb femení #putellas!reader

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sturniolo-simp4life · 3 days

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Hard to say- pt. 3

overview- you and the sturniolo’s have been best friends since you remember, but you’ve always had a thing for Matt. When a new girl, Abby, moves into town, things between you and Matt change.

warnings- crying and a little angst.

pt.2 pt.4

it’s been about a month since Abby came to the school. Somehow her and Matt have become closer.

thankfully Chris had been there to comfort you. He would say ‘he’ll come to his senses eventually,’ or ‘he doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.’

but did he really?

Like, Abby was looked like a goddess in human form. You couldn’t blame Matt if he did like her.

still, the thought of the two of them together made your stomach clench.

You were at the triplets house right now. You and Chris were supposed to have a ‘study session.’

you knocked on the door and Matt answered. “Oh hey y/n.”

“hey,” you said. “Is Chris home?”

Matt tensed a bit at Chris’s name but you didn’t notice. “Yeah he is. Come in.”

“Chris y/n is here!” Matt yelled. You sat on the couch. “Why don’t we study together anymore?” He asked.

You shrugged. “These days you’re always with Abby. Whenever we make plans you always just blow me off.”

Matt felt bad after hearing this. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. You shrugged again. “I’ve gotten used to it.”

“So… you’ve been hanging out with Chris a lot lately.” You smiled at his name.

“I mean yeah. He is one of my best friends after all.” Matt’s heart sank a little. Did you even still consider him as a close friend anymore?

“Hey y/n/n!” You looked up to see Chris grinning at you. “Hey Chris. You ready?” “Yeah let’s go to my room.”

you got up. “Nice talking to you Matt.”

you sighed as you entered Chris’s room. “I’m not sure if I can do this anymore Chris. At this point he doesn’t even know he’s avoiding me. It’s like Abby has him on an invisible chokehold.”

Chris gave you a sad look. “I’m sorry y/n. I wish he would open his eyes and see the amazing person you are.”

you sighed and shrugged. “There not much that can be done now. Now, where is your science notebook?”

when you got back to your apartment, you saw your mom sleeping on the couch.

after your dad died, she had made sure to work extra hard to provide for both of you. She was your true best friend.

she would always listen to your problems and help you solve them. She deserved a break.

you kissed her forehead and walked to your room.

when you walked into English the next day, you already saw Matt and Abby laughing about something.

you decided to expand your social boundaries and sit with someone new today.

you scanned the classroom until your eyes landed on a boy looking at his computer with an EarPod in.

you walked over to the desk and sat down next to him. He glanced up at you, a little confused.

“um, I’m just gonna sit here today. Is that okay?” You asked. “He just shrugged. “Do want you want, I don’t care.” He went back to watching his screen.

you couldn’t help but look at it. “Are you watching bridgerton? I love that show.”

He looked up at you and smiled. “Really? I just started watching it recently.”

“oh,” you said. “What season are you on?” “Season one. Episode 4 to be exact.”

“oooh. You have a long way to go.” He chuckled in response. “Y’know, I haven’t seen that many guys watch bridgerton.”

he shrugged. “I don’t know. I like it.” You laughed. “What’s your name?” “Logan. Yours?” “Y/n.” “Y/n..” he repeated. “I like that name.”

“thanks.”

you and Logan continued to laugh the rest of class period, gaining attention from Matt. He felt jealously bubble in his stomach.

You didn’t laugh that way around him anymore.

he shook the thought from his head. Why was he thinking about you so much all of a sudden?

“I feel like we have other classes together,” Logan said. “Yeah me too.. I think we have this class, history and science together?”

“yeah that’s it.” The bell rang. “I’ll see in our other classes, yeah?” You smiled at him. “Yeah.”

in Math, you were sitting with ally. Abby and Matt were sitting at another table.

“Matt, I have something to tell you,” Abby said. “What?” He asked curiously.

“it’s about y/n.”

his eyes widened slightly. “What is it.” She hesitated a little before speaking. “I’ve heard her talking to a guy in the hallway the other day… apparently she pays guys for sex.”

Matt’s eyes widened. “W-what?” “It’s true,” she continued. “That day she was practically begging the guy to fuck her. Apparently she’s done it with a lot of guys in this grade.”

Matt was still in shock. Y/n wouldn’t do that. Would she? “I mean, she has been acting kind of distant lately..” he trailed off.

Abby shrugged and glanced at you. “I just wanted you to know.”

“hey guys,” you said as you approached your usual lunch table. You were met with hi’s and waves.

you sat down across from Matt. “Hey Matt did you get the notes in math?”

he didn’t even look up to acknowledge you. “Matt?”

“what,” he snapped. The blinked at him. “Are you okay?”

he huffed. “Can we talk in private please?” “Okay…” you said a little unsure.

you followed him into an empty hallway.

“Matt what’s wrong?”

he sighed and shook his head. “Abby told me that you pay guys for sex. How long y/n? How long have you been doing this?”

your eyes widened. “I would never do that Matt! You should know this.”

“Should I?” He asked. “It makes sense- you have been pretty distant lately.”

you laughed in shock. “I’ve been distant? You’re the one who spends every second of your time with Abby.”

Matt just rolled his eyes. “You know that I’ll only have sex with the person i love. I’ve told you this!”

Matt just scoffed. “are you saying that Abby is lying?” “Yes I’m saying that. Who are you gonna believe? Someone you’ve known all your life or some girl you meant less than 2 months?”

Matt paused for a second. He had only known Abby for a short while, but he should believe her, right?

“I don’t think we should be friends anymore y/n.”

that was enough to crack your heart. Tears started rolling down your cheeks before you could even comprehend it.

Matt looked hurt for a second, but he just walked away from you, leaving you to slide down the wall, holding in your sobs.

the rest of the day was blur.

when you got back to your apartment, your mom was on the couch watching something.

“Hey sweetie!” she said. “How was your day?”

that was enough for you to start crying again. A look of concern washed over her face as she got up and hugged you.

She led you to the couch where you cried on her should. “Don’t cry sweetie.” She hushed you and patted your hair.

she waited for you to calm down a bit before talking. “Let me guess- it has something to do with Matt and Abby?”

you sniffed and nodded your head. She cursed under her breath.

“that bitch,” she mumbled. “Mom!” You laughed. “Don’t tell her I said that. Anyways, wanna tell me what happened?”

you sighed. “Abby made some rumor about me and she told Matt. Apparently he’d rather believe her than someone he’s known his whole life.” Your mom frowned.

“listen y/n. If he can’t see the amazing person in front of him then he’s not worth it. Trust me, he’s going to see it one day.”

“thanks mom,” you said. She kissed your forehead. “Any day. Anyways, legally blonde and popcorn?”

you grinned. “Always.”

tags- v4mp1r3c4t sturniololvrrr sturnssan blahbel668 arleanka futuristicladywonderland iloveneilperry sturnstvr jetaimevous britishamerican11 alicejwebster sturnsforlife ldrloverrrrrr

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honeytama · 2 days

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Make Your Move - Chapter 1

Noah Sebastian x Reader x Matt Dierkes

Fic Masterlist

A/N: Very excited to begin my first long fic! Enjoy <3 I'd love to know what you think. I have an idea of how long it will be, but maybe I’ll have more ideas as we go on.

Fic Summary: Having known Matt for a year already, he knows your talents and hires you as his assistant for Bad Omens' upcoming tour. You’ve had a crush on Matt, your friend, and now boss. However, his good friend and your celebrity crush, Noah, takes a liking to you the second you step through the door. What happens when your feelings develop? What happens when they find out? You only hope your heart doesn’t break trying to care for two others.

Content and Warnings for Ch. 1: Fluff, mention of sex toys/masturbation, all of my works are 18+ only

Word Count: 2.7k

Matt called the other day.

“Y/N, do you happen to have plans from June 3rd to July 7th?” He asked.

You remember him asking you, but at that moment you didn’t even process what he had said before responding, “Whatever you need, I’m all yours!”.

You rolled your eyes at yourself. He was cocky, overly flirtatious, and arrogant some of the time, but he had an effect on you that didn’t waver.

You wanted every moment to be around him and didn’t consider the amount of responsibility he would put on you in the upcoming months.

It’s the beginning of April and you agreed to be Matt’s assistant tour manager on Bad Omen’s summer tour. Their full tour route has already been posted online and fans could begin buying tickets by the end of the week.

Today, you have to meet with Matt and the band for the first time to discuss tour logistics. Tour production, mixing, and lighting were nothing new to you, but you'd never gone on the road before, let alone with a band you'd never met… in person, at least. You're a Bad Omens fan– big time.

Matt and you have known each other for a year having met while you were on a walk. His dog, Zeus, had got off-leash and sauntered on toward you. It was fate the way the world brought him to you. He thanked you for grabbing Zeus’ collar before noticing your Bad Omens merch.

“I like your shirt,” he nodded at your chest with a smirk.

“You're their tour manager,” you said with wide eyes.

“Among other things,” he smiled.

The man had you wrapped around his finger starting that day.

You two exchanged numbers and have been hanging out and talking ever since. It was your favorite to go on walks with him and his dogs when he was home from tour. He flirted with you and with every hand touch and compliment it made your affection for him grow. However, you knew he was a ladies' man and decided to keep your feelings secret early on.

Now, he’s your boss.

—

The walk from your car to the door of the studio felt a mile long. The beat of your heart thumped in your ears as you thought about how your first meeting would go.

Would they like you? Would you do well or make a fool of yourself? Would they notice you had a crush on Matt? Will they just think you're his puppy to play with on tour?

These thoughts made your stomach lurch and nearly convinced you to dial Matt to call in sick.

Nevertheless, you wanted to prove yourself to them, so you put on your best smile and turned the door knob.

You were immediately met with a packed room and heads turning to meet you.

“There she is!” Matt exclaims while leaning against the long mixing console. “Everyone, this is Y/N. My new assistant.”

“Hell knows you needed one,” Folio gets up from the couch on the side of the room and goes to shake your hand.

“I’m Nick,” he points to another guy in the corner in a rolly chair, “he’s Nick, too. So, it’s ok for you to call me Folio.”

Nick, Nicholas Ruffilo as you know him, gives you a smile and a small wave before returning to his laptop screen.

“That’s Jolly,” Folio points to a rugged man sitting on the rug on the floor next to the coffee table.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he smiles.

“And this is Noah,” Folio walks over to Noah and pats his shoulder.

“Hey,” he waves.

How can he be even hotter in person? You thought.

Being a fan of the band already, you had already attached their names to their faces, and Noah’s was your favorite. You thought he was attractive and started to develop a bit of a celebrity crush on him when you discovered the band, but once Matt came into the picture you thought it best to ogle over someone tangible. Now, Noah is really in front of you and you hope your fan feelings won’t make things complicated.

“Nice to meet you guys. I’m such a fan,” you say, professionally.

“Oh! You’re a fan! Matt, you picked a good one,” Folio grins.

You make your way across the room toward Matt to hug him. You couldn’t help feeling eyes on you from the direction of the couch, but your conscience convinces you to ignore it.

Matt embraces you before telling you to take a seat in the rolly chair beside him.

“Alright, my friends,” he claps. “Now that we’re all here, we have a lot to do. Y/N, I sent you our to-do list, mind getting that out for me?” Matt nods toward the laptop in your tote bag.

“You’re already giving orders? It’s day zero,” Nick whines.

“Treat her like an equal, man,” Noah is lighthearted, but his face says “Don’t do this right now”.

“Guys, I’m kidding,” Matt groans and pulls out his phone. “Ok, so we need to source crew, talk to management about who else is on the bill, create video wall graphics, arrange a setlist, mix intros for each track in the setlist… plus lots and lots of other shit.”

You smile across the room to Noah and mouth, “Thank you”.

He winks at you before looking down at his notebook and beginning to take note of Matt’s list.

Matt continues, “Noah, do you want to finalize the setlist? We can work on some other stuff while you get that done.”

“Actually,” he raises his head from his notebook to make eye contact with you, “I would love to have Y/N’s opinion on what I have so far.” He faces Matt, “She’s a fan and it would be nice to have some insight from someone else who enjoys our music.”

“I like that idea,” Matt agrees.

“Yeah, that sounds fun,” you say excitedly. Time to prove yourself, you thought.

“Sweet,” Noah says. He gets up from the couch with his notebook and pen in hand. “We can go out to the patio,” he nods his head at the back door of the studio.

You grab your tote and fix your outfit before following Noah to the door that he so chivalrously holds open for you.

“After you,” he smiles. “Let’s take a seat on the bench.”

The atmosphere completely changes as you can hear birds chirping and cars driving down the nearby highway. The back patio is covered with a finished, wooden awning and it faces a small yard with deep green grass and vines that trail up the fence surrounding the studio. Being here with Noah, alone, it felt like a dream.

You take a seat next to Noah with around two feet in between you. Your heart flutters watching him flip through the pages of his notebook as his hair falls into his eyes.

“There it is,” he announces as he tucks his hair behind his ear, only for it to fall again to his temple.

Noah hands you his notebook and on the open page is a list of songs. Some of them are scratched out and then rewritten, while others have question marks next to them.

“I hope you can read my handwriting,” he says sheepishly.

“I like your handwriting,” you smile, hoping to ease him. Why was he nervous? You thought.

You read aloud,

“Artificial Suicide,

Nowhere to Go,

V.A.N,

Glass Houses,

The Grey,

Never Know,

Limits,

IDWT$,

Like a Villain,

Just Pretend,

The Death of Piece of Mind,

Concrete Jungle,

and Dethrone.”

“This is perfect,” you gush. “The fans will love this show. I know I will.”

Your praise earns you a toothy smile from him. “Are you sure there is nothing you would change? You can be critical. I can take it,” he leans in urging you to say anything.

“You–,” you blush, “you forgot to add my favorite song.”

“What’s your favorite?” He’s still so close to you, yearning to hang onto every word you say.

You reach across his lap to pull the pen out of his hand. His gaze follows your hand to his notebook. The pen is brought to the page of setlist ideas and at the very bottom, you scribble If I’m There.

Noah laughs and rubs the tops of his thighs. “Really?”

Taken aback by his reaction, “‘Yes! What do you mean, ‘really’?”

“Hey,” he smiles with his hands up, “it’s a great song. I know the fans love it…” He holds up his forefinger, “But, one, we haven’t played it live in forever.” He holds two fingers to you and laughs, “Two, you put it as the third encore after Dethrone.”

You laugh along with him. “Fine, no If I’m There for the fans I guess,” you tease. “I just was thinking about when you and Jolly did an acoustic live stream during quarantine and played it. The song means a lot to me and your voice sounds amazing in it, of course,” you admit.

Noah bites his lip and fixes a steady gaze on your eyes. “Thank you, that means a lot. Maybe you’ll share with me what it means to you sometime?”

“Sure,” you nod.

“How about, when we’re on the road and you’re feeling down,” he looks off to the yard, “you say the word and I’ll play the song for you.”

“Just for me?”

“Just for you.”

“Why?”

“I want to sing it again; the song means a lot to me, too,” he looks to you.

–

“Matt,” you call out, “am I going to be feeling down when we're on the road?”

It was now almost two months later and the first show of the summer is in two days. This morning, Matt is over at your apartment helping you pack for your first tour trip. You have to leave to meet everyone at the tour bus to pack everything up and head out by noon.

“Feeling down,” he pauses, “like, sad? Where’d you hear that?” He comes out of your restroom with your travel bottles and extra toiletries in his arms.

“It was a passing comment that Noah made when we first met. I’ve been thinking about it ever since,” you look down at your suitcase on the bed.

“I’m sure he didn't mean to freak you out. But,” he opens up your mini bag to set everything inside, “yeah, it can get lonely.”

“Aw, you get lonely?” you tease. “Then, I’m glad I’ll have my best friend on the road with me,” you smile at him.

“Yeah, me too,” he smiles back at you, “Noah and I are going to be hanging out a lot.”

“Fuck off”, you flick the brim of his hat. Letting out a sigh, you ask, “Do you think I have everything I need?”

“Lemme see…” He hunches over your suitcase and rummages through the piles of clothes. It’s a minute later that you realize that he’s probably putting his hands all over your underwear. “Y/N.”

“What?” You ask. He’s still hunched over, unwavering. “Matt, what is it?” You repeat urgently.

“What are– Why do you have these?” He turns around to you holding your palm-sized vibrator in his left hand and your pink, five-inch dildo in his right.

“Matt!” You reach forward trying to grab them, but he pulls back. “Oh, my God!”

“You can’t bring these!” He yells waving around your personal items.

“I can do whatever I want! Give them back!” Your cheeks feel red hot as you try to reach for your things being held above his head.

He looks down at you with fire in his maple eyes. “You’re going to be staying on the bus with us. When did you think you were going to use these?” He laughs, and you hate it when he’s right. Honestly, you questioned why you even bothered to pack them, too.

“None of your business, Matt,” you huff letting your arms down, defeated. “I just thought, like, what if we got hotel rooms at some point during the tour and I could blow off some steam.”

“And, you thought that you’d get a room to yourself?” Matt laughs, annoyingly. He hands you the toys and you throw them into the bag in frustration.

“I have to room with you boys the entire month?” You whine. “How am I supposed to change my clothes?”

“You’ll have to get comfortable with being uncomfortable,” he shrugs his shoulders. “I don't mind if you change in front of me,” Matt smirks.

“You would like that, huh?” You jab.

“Y/N, watching you change would be my favorite show; better than any Bad Omens set, and I’m great at my job,” he taunts.

“You’re gross,” you scoff.

“You love me,” Matt relaxes on your bed.

He’s right, you think.

–

The sun was out again outside of the studio. You reminisce about spending time with Noah on the patio two months ago, and there were only a couple of days you spent alone time with him since then. Each time, you try to brush off the sense of guilt you have when Noah looks at you with his almond eyes; Matt is still unaware of the celebrity crush you had on his friend. Even though Matt isn't yours, you still liked and knew him first and it made it feel wrong to give Noah the attention you did.

Though, there’s no time to focus on that now. Today is your first official day of being Matt’s assistant and assistant tour manager for Bad Omens.

You met everyone: crew, the other touring band, Bad Omens, and Matt outside of the studio where the tour trailers and buses were parked. With your suitcase by your side, you kept track of everything on your iPad. You instructed where everyone was meant to be by the first show day and took inventory of all gear kept in the trailers.

And then after forty-five minutes of organization, everyone was ready to load onto the buses.

“Alright,” Matt calls out, “crew and our other band, you'll be in the first bus. My guys and Y/N, we’ll be in the second. Decide on your sleeping arrangements. Let’s go.”

“You ready?” Folio comes to your side.

“Yeah, I’m excited,” you answer.

With that, you load onto the second bus, and you’re astonished at the sight before you.

The bus is long. There’s a kitchenette with cabinets as you enter and a TV hanging above the entrance of the bus. After the kitchenette, the bus is lined with smooth, black leather couches and one small table for dining. There's a sliding door that separates the bunks from the rest of the bus; six beds total, two sides of the bus set with three bunks on top of each other. After the bunks, there is another sliding door that can block off a room with a leather couch that lines the walls of the bus. The back is decorated with pillows and twinkly lights from which you can see.

“Y/N, take your pick of bunk. I’ll sleep near wherever you choose.” Matt suggests.

You choose the second bunk on the right side of the bus. Matt chooses to sleep above you and Folio follows suit below you. As everyone is settling in, Noah trails in last.

He’s left with the second bunk on the left side of the bus, right across from you.

“Hey, neighbor,” he smiles as he puts his backpack in his bunk.

“Noah,” you blush while unpacking your blanket, pillow, and plushies onto the bed.

Matt finishes unpacking his sleeping gear and leans against the wall to address all of you, “Now that we’re back, I just need to remind everyone about the rules of the bus.”

Nick groans from his bunk near the floor.

“Well, actually, y'all know there’s only one rule,” Matt maintains eye contact with you. “No pleasuring oneself or another on the bus.”

Oh, my God, you think.

"I hate you", you silently mouth to Matt.

Beside you, Noah chuckles and crosses his arms. Turning to look at him, his cheeks are pink.

Did Matt fucking tell him something? You thought.

Matt raises his eyebrows at you. “Driver! Let’s roll.”

#noah sebastian x reader #matt dierkes x reader #bad omens x reader #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #matt dierkes fanfiction #she's HERE

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tumblingxelian · 1 day

Text

I went and did a lil reviewing and its very interesting to look at Lila's situation regarding Catalyst and there's some fun observations to make in a vacuum.

1: This girls room has tons of masks.

I know that isn't a major thing but given what we know of her its like, "So you just wanna shout that you have a complicated relationship with identity is that it?!"

2: Her mom does work at the embassy

On the surface she seems nice enough if maybe very busy given she says she'll "Try" and be back before dinner. One can take Lila growling once she's gone as directed at Ladybug or her mother, or both.

But the dynamic also feels 'weird' & Lila's clearly used to instantly masking whatever she's actually feeling around her.

Assuming a "No child is born super evil" read, I'd say that either she is like Andre in that she can performatively show affection. But is not actually there for their child when they need it. In this case likely having failed Lila at some major interval that left a deep divide.

Or that she's one of those parents who can seem very nice and reasonable but if angered or offended or disgusted react very, very badly. I'd actually say this one feels the most likely given it would contextualize Lila's deceptive habits very neatly.

3: How much did she know?

The question of if Lila was "In on it" or a willing participant in the scheme is interesting. Cos its obvious she didn't know Gabriel's identity. But more to the point, thats he clearly wasn't even expecting Hawk Moth to come for her given she was surprised.

Like there is no one to be performing for here, that is genuine shock.

However, we all see her smirking after Hawk Moth has the Akuma leave her. But its worth noting she wasn't purified, the Butterfly just left. So while its obviously a headcanon I do feel the shift from shock and panic to stoic confidence is weird enough to thin it could mean more than just Lila is the devil.

Also is it just me or do her eyes seem more lifeless?

We do have Gabriel's dialogue to go off:

Hawk Moth: Fly away, my little akuma and evilize the one who's been waiting your return for so long.

But we've also seen him call Chloe his favorite "Victim" and its not exactly uncommon for people taking advantage of others to frame their victim as a willing participant.

With that in mind!

4: Oh they were 100% grooming Lila, yikes

So, we know from season 3 that Gabriel & Nathalie were fine undermining Chloe's mental health to the point of sabotage, gaslighting and hostage taking.

Thus it is perhaps no surprise they were doing the same with Lila.

Don't believe me? They have literal cameras on a fourteen year old and have clearly been keeping her under observation in their own words, for months!

Nathalie: (Hands Gabriel her tablet) Lila has been harboring her rage against Ladybug for months, and today wherever she looks, she'll see the object of her hatred, and as predicted, her anger will reach devastating heights. Your plan is perfect, sir.

But more pointedly is what is not said, or more, what is talked around, see this exchange:

Lila: (scrolls through laptop) Liar! Traitor! Coward! (comes across an interview with Gabriel Agreste and Nadja Chamack) Gabriel: (on the laptop) In honor of the wonderful Ladybug who has saved my son Adrien and myself, and who relentlessly protects all of us everyday, I have financed this tribute to Ladybug. Because Ladybug is the only true hero unlike her mediocre imitations, such as Volpina. Lila: (screams with rage and throws her laptop against a wall) I hate you, Ladybug!

Cue laptop against wall and then crying on the floor, again there is no one to perform for here, this has to be a genuine reaction.

What stands out to me is Lila's choice of words: Liar! Traitor! Coward!

If she was just angry he praised Ladybug & insulted Volpina these words don't make any sense. But they make a ton of sense if Gabriel or someone representing her contacted Lila about her time as Volpina.

(It does not seem Paris is aware she was an Akuma)

Likely telling her about Heroes' Day or otherwise framing themselves as very interested and impressed with Volpina saving Paris from that meteor. Only so they could have Gabriel twist the knife in on an interview.

Conclusion:

That's just an assumption but if not, why not call Gabriel a jerk and a fool or something, traitor and coward have very specific connotations that don't make sense unless she'd been led to believe Gabriel thought highly of Volpina,

Hell, how would they even know she'd find the interview unless she knew to look for it?

Yes yes, story contrivances, but if we want to base out logic in universe, Nathalie & Gabriel preyed again on an isolated and to one degree or another neglected as well as troubled child. Fed into her many issues, likely helping foster her isolation & resentments, just to betray and humiliate her for the purpose of using her as a weapon.

That is deeply fucked up, especially when you consider that they were spying on her and she has no idea any of this is happening!

All in all, I think its quite reasonable to read Lila as a fourteen year old taken advantage of and steadily warped by adults' who were using her for their own gain as opposed to someone just born evil.

#ML #miraculous ladybug #Lila Rossi #Text Post #Meta

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icarryitin · 1 day

Text

Cross the Line

spencer reid/gn afab!reader

reader is still more or less a blank slate but i wrote this w my fellow thick girlies in mind, love you🧡 have fun defiling a sofa you whores🫡

(this is NOT a part of Can You…? but there is a new part coming next week so !!!)

masterlist

word count: 4.3k // warnings: 18+ pls this is straight up porn, afab reader bc work with what you’ve got, unprotected PIV and all the trimmings including fingering and a sneaky blowjob, too many feelings for something i meant to just be sexy

“This is a really bad idea.”

Oh, don’t you know it. But Spencer isn’t pulling back from you – still very much in your space for a man claiming that he shouldn’t be there in the first place.

Although he’s not touching you, not yet, the tension in the room is stretched so thin that you’re worried it’ll snap. There’s no going back after that. It’s all so fragile, this delicate thing between you, and you’re afraid that one wrong move will shatter it all beyond repair. The heavy rain of the summer thunderstorm pounding against your living room window does nothing to relieve the stifling pressure in the room. You want to tell him that you agree, it’s a very bad idea. You want to tell him goodnight, you’ll see him on Monday, you want to wave him towards the stairs of your apartment building and shut the door on him. Except no sound comes out when you open your mouth. Because you’re wound so tight, only by his proximity, by the warmth that leeches over you from having him so fucking close.

You close your mouth again, clear your throat, and frown at the tiniest twitch of his lips. Smug bastard isn’t a side of him you see often. It suits him, annoyingly.

It takes a gargantuan effort to peel your gaze from his mouth, to lock your eyes on his with an intensity he doesn’t expect. To his credit, he doesn’t falter all that noticeably, the catch of his breath only detectable by the barest shudder of his shoulders – but it’s nice to know you hold the same level of power over him as he does you. Maybe not nice, maybe a little bit dangerous, maybe a little bit like standing too close to the edge of a cliff. Adrenaline thundering through your veins, nerve endings on fire, daring one of you to take the leap. Spencer caves first, the slightest skim of his fingers against yours, and it’s game over.

You have no choice but to kiss that stupid little smile right off his face.

He’s taken by surprise when you surge forward to close the gap between your faces, stumbling a little with the force of it, but he catches you. Of course he does, just like always. This moment has been months in the making – eleven months, nine days, and six hours to be exact. Which he always is. From the second you waltzed into the bullpen with your smile and your eyes and your shiny new badge, and him? He has three PHDs to his name, thinking about a fourth, and yet even just the smell of your laundry detergent can render his mind completely blank of anything but you. He should hate it, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pushes forward, pressing his lips to yours with fervour. All he can wonder is why it’s taken so long.

Kissing Spencer Reid is everything. You could do it forever. You probably won’t be that lucky, but you would if he let you. And, while his aversion to touch has never really seemed to apply to you, it’s as though he’s abandoned it completely – the thing about kissing Spencer Reid, you find, is that he’s all hands.

On your cheeks, your jaw, the back of your neck. Sliding down to grip at your upper arms, your elbows. He tugs you in even closer by them until there’s not a breath of air between your bodies. Until he can wind his arms around you completely. Your hands have trailed up to rest on his chest, fairly content to bask in the heat of him and the stuttering of his heartbeat under your fingertips. But it’s like he can’t decide where he wants to hold you. Just that he wants to leave no stone unturned, meticulously cataloguing every inch of your body by touch alone. He probably is, knowing him, committing you to memory. The thought makes you burn, as he grasps at your waist like his life depends on it. He’s not close enough – will never be close enough, you think. His lips part for a moment, just to catch his breath before he dives back in, and you seize the opportunity to lick along the reddened line of them. No, you can’t climb into his body and live there, but sticking your tongue in his mouth is a close second. You’ll just have to live with that.

Spencer’s gasp in response to the intrusion almost makes you draw back, almost. But you can’t go anywhere because he’s on you again, more enthusiastic than he ever was before, backing you up into your apartment. One hand abandons its post on your hip to turn the lock and slide the security chain into place on the front door – safety first, the action is hotter than you’d like to admit – and then it’s back with a vengeance until you’re sure he’s leaving bruises. You can’t find it in yourself to care.

Feet shuffle, hands fumble, you almost take the both of you down when the floorboards are interrupted by the lip of the living room rug. But the stumble isn’t worth pulling your face off of Spencer’s, not even for a second. Not until you have to manoeuvre around the coffee table to find the couch anyway.

You mumble a quiet ouch against his lips when the wooden corner of it digs into the back of your knee, and the chuckle you get in response makes your heart grow so big you’re worried it’ll burst your ribcage at the seams. Noses knocking into one another, you turn your face to scowl at the offending item of furniture, but a gentle touch to your jaw coaxes your eyes back to his. And you get it.

This is what everyone means when they say that he looks at you.

Spencer’s eyes are a shade darker in the low light, focused solely on your face. Your lips, your cheekbones, the bridge of your nose, he’s studying you like there’s nothing else in the world worth looking at so closely. As if he doesn’t spend most of his working day looking at your face. As if it’s not enough. Even if you weren’t a profiler, the reverence he seems to regard you in would give him away. It’s not the heady pressure of the rolling thunder that’s making you sweat - it’s that look. Because it’s the one you get all the time, reserved just for you. Okay, maybe you had noticed, but you’ve always put it down to wishful thinking. Always had an excuse. It feels more intimate than sticking your tongue in his mouth, looking at him like this. So open, so vulnerable.

He lets you back him up, this time, taking the careful step or two backwards without breaking the eye contact until he can feel the fabric of your couch against his legs. Soft, even through the fabric of his trousers. Spencer expects you’ll feel much the same. There’s no struggle for the upper hand in the quiet of the room. Just the two of you, tentatively taking a step out into the unknown side by side. He lowers himself to sit, couch cushions giving way to his body exactly as softly as he expected, lacing his fingers through yours to take you with him. He doesn’t pull, but you follow him all the same. You let him guide you, settling a thigh either side of his own, balanced carefully on his lap. He won’t let you fall.

“Hi.” His throat is dry - his voice lower, more gravelly than he’s expecting, and he doesn’t have the wherewithal to catch his eyebrows before they can jerk up in surprise.

Your laugh is mesmerising, music to his ears. It washes over him as you raise your hands to cup his cheeks, smoothing his eyebrows with your thumbs.

“Hi,” Your own shaky tone betrays you, just a little, “You okay?”

He’s nodding even as he leans in to kiss you, to inhale you, to drown in you again.

Long fingers dig into the meat of your thighs and the shuddering groan that escapes your lips is absolutely involuntary, but Spencer swallows it without a second thought. Your hands are tight in his hair as his grip wanders to your hips and squeezes – you can’t help but grind down into his lap, feel the hardness of him beneath you. And suddenly, making out like horny teenagers isn’t enough. You have to pull back, however reluctantly, though you don’t stray far.

“Spencer,” You’re breathless, eyes still closed, lips still brushing his with every syllable, “I need you.”

The streetlight shining through the raindrops on the window casts a glow behind your head, Spencer’s heavy lidded eyes fanning it out like a lens flare in a film – like a halo. He’s always thought you had one.

“You have me, you’ve always had me. Are you sure?” He wants to cringe at the question, sure that it’ll send you flying out of his lap, but he has to be certain. He has to know that this isn’t stress relief after the case, that it’s not because he’s right in front of you, that your insides churn every time you look at him the way his tie themselves into knots over you. Your responding smile is fond, one hand sliding down from his hair to swipe your index finger down the length of his nose and he can’t help the upturn of his own lips. In spite of it all, his anxiety dissolves completely, withering and dying under your sincere gaze.

“I’m sure.”

That’s all he needs to hear.

The absence of his hold on you is startling, goosebumps raising on your hips the moment his warm hands move to the buttons of your shirt. To be fair, you’re not much better yourself, already tugging at the knot of his tie until you can slip it over his head. Somewhere in the midst of scrambling fingers and wriggling stiff fabric out of waistbands, you end up buttoning your shirt to his, getting tangled in the both of them when you start wrestling the thing off of his shoulders.

It breaks the tension in the room; the stakes don’t seem quite as high when you’re both wrapped up in your shirts, giggling. Spencer’s dexterous fingers find the culprit, one of your buttons caught in the fastening of one of his, and release it. White and burgundy cotton falling away to reveal you to each other. Dishevelled, grinning, absolutely at ease with one another’s closeness. He looks like he wants to say something else but, whatever it is, he holds it back. You don’t know if things will go beyond tonight, but it’d be worth the mountain of HR paperwork to see him this free even just once more. With anyone else, you might be embarrassed - but this is Spencer.

Spencer, who knows you.

Spencer, who has seen you laugh and cry and scream. You’ve celebrated together, fretted together, grieved together. He’s seen you on your absolute best days, your absolute worst. There’s nothing you’d want to hide from him, so you don’t shy away when he leans forward to latch his lips onto your neck. When he skims his fingers across the skin of your collarbone and leaves a trail of heat and goosebumps behind all at the same time. In much the same way that he preens at your touch, he seems to lean into your hands as you swipe them along his shoulders and down the planes of his chest. Something both known and unknown slots into place. You know what it is, you’re fairly confident he knows what it is, but neither of you will voice it. You don’t think it needs to be. You both know, and that’s enough for now.

At least you don’t get tangled up in anything else, although your jeans fight to the last as they get tugged over your bent knees. You haven’t got the patience to shimmy your underwear off, mostly because he’s already got his hands on you, fingers trailing between your skin and the elastic at your hips. So he’s a tease, now that makes sense.

Lightning fractures the night outside of your darkened window at the same moment Spencer slips his hand down below the elastic of your underwear. His fingers are cold against you, squashed between your weight and his lap, but he manages to swipe them through your folds decisively enough for you to shudder. You’ve already soaked through the cotton, the anticipation had begun the moment he offered to walk you home with that look. Every step since then has only added to your arousal, and it takes no effort at all for him to begin circling your clit with his fingertip. Delicate, deliberate. He’s making you squirm on purpose, wallowing in every whine that escapes your lips and every one you hold back. Your forehead drops to his shoulder as he presses a little more firmly, beginning to alternate between slow circles and dipping his fingers down to tease at your entrance.

You’re so turned on, you think you might die. Genuinely. You’re half convinced that you’re winding closer and closer to a heart attack with every swipe of the good doctor’s fingers against you, that you’ll seize up and go into cardiac arrest at any moment. You need him to do something. You’re teetering on the brink of no return, you need him to push you.

“Spencer.” You breathe as he finally, finally, slides his fingers home inside of you. His thumb takes its place over your clit, digits working gently but relentlessly in tandem with one another.

“I know,” He replies softly, “Just let me make you feel good, okay?”

You can only push your face into his neck, whining in harmony with another crash of thunder from the heavens - you know how they feel. Only your crescendo is still being held at arm's length by the man underneath you. It’s rude, actually. Or hot, knowing he’s so focused on you and your pleasure that everything else has stopped existing to him. You’re not sure which option you’d lean towards. Tears start to sting at your lash line, of frustration, of overstimulation, of pleasure. You’re not sure. At least he notices when one solitary drop escapes to slide over his sternum, trailing down his naked chest. And then he doubles down, you’re not ready for it.

He plays you like a violin until you’re writhing, squirming, panting, until you can’t keep still for even a second. Just to show you that he could have done, this whole time. There’s no warning, no siren, no flashing lights or emergency broadcast - you’re cresting the wave before you even really know what’s happening. Nails digging into his shoulders, hips grinding down of their own accord, beads of sweat breaking out in your hairline. It’s downright cruel that it’s taken so long for you to gather the courage for making a move. Distantly, somewhere in your hazy mind, you hope you haven’t hurt him. At least you had the presence of mind to clamp your mouth shut rather than sinking your teeth into his neck. Another time, maybe.

Your faculties come back to you, slowly but surely, although you don’t find yourself any less insatiable than you were before your jeans found a home on the floor. Spencer catches your lips in a gentle kiss, all too innocent considering he’s pulling a very wet hand out of your underwear at the same time. You can’t pull your eyes away when he pulls back to hold it between your faces, just to watch the glisten of them in the dull light, and runs his tongue up the length of his middle finger. It’s hypnotising. You chase him, knocking his hand out of the way to pull his face to yours again. There’s no air between you, skin on skin, as you kiss him for all he’s worth in the darkness of your living room. The taste of you lingers in his mouth, you don’t mind it. Not if it means you can inhale his every breath. And then, there’s the other thing. It won’t be ignored any further, although you’re sure Spencer would be more than happy to forego his own pleasure, if the blissed out look in his eye is anything to go by.

Still, selfishly, you want to see.

One careful press of your hips into his has his eyes rolling back, head following to rest on the back of the couch. You don’t have the time to mourn his lips against yours, next mission already on track as you let your fingers wander beneath the elastic of his own under. He inhales sharply at the touch, head shooting back up, and locks eyes with you. There’s a challenge in there, somewhere under the apprehension of your next move. You pull your fingers away from him, elastic snapping against his hips, and rake his hair back from his face. Your relationship with Spencer has long since evolved past the need for words, so he knows what you mean when you look at him so carefully - it’s his choice. Another beat, another breath, and he smiles. He nods softly. His face scrunches when you lean forward to press a light kiss on the tip of his nose. It’s all far too innocent considering your hands are skimming back down to breach the band of his underwear, sliding underneath just enough to pull him out and - oh.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were into me.” The joke escapes you before you have a chance to stop it. He’s so hard it must be painful. The tip is flushed pink, giving way to smooth skin and ridged veins - you want him in your mouth. But there’s a nagging throb between your legs, less a want and more a need.

“I’d like to be.”

Your bark of laughter lights up the whole room, the city, the world. Maybe it’s a bit soon, but he wants to hear you laugh like that every day for the rest of his life. He wants to be the reason for it. God, he loves you. That’s what it is, ultimately. He wonders if you can see it in his face, the way he’s watching you, as your laughter dies but your easy smile remains. He isn’t nervous anymore. He doesn’t know why he ever was in the first place, he wants this - wants you, desperately. The decision is made when he grips at your hips again, pulling you up ever so gently onto your knees to hover above him. You pull the crotch of your underwear to the side, the chilled air that hits your slick makes you shudder involuntarily, as your other hand grips him gently to guide him. Spencer lowers you onto him slowly, eyes steady on your face.

It’s moments like this that he’s grateful for the willpower he’s cultivated over the years - because, the moment his cock hits your heat? When the head of him slips into you, when you hold yourself there for a moment, and when you steadily start to work yourself up and down? He’s done for, absolutely gone, already teetering on the edge of oblivion. You take a little more of him every time you sink down again, breathing quickening, until you can seat yourself flush in his lap. A sharp gasp escapes you, punching out of your lungs at the intrusion and he seizes the opportunity to surge forward. He kisses you deeply, a newfound fire burning in the pit of his stomach, and his grip on you turns bruising when you return the passion. Slowly, deeply, he starts to grind you down onto him, swallowing every moan and groan and whimper you let slip.

Though your movements stay steady, he’s hurtling towards his end far sooner than he wants to. Your fingers tangle in his hair, lips on his - not kissing anymore, just panting into each other’s mouths. A sheen of sweat is starting to develop along both of your bodies. Slick skin sliding together, and it feels so good. You feel so good. Hot and wet and tight around him, your scent in his nose, it’s all so overstimulating and nowhere near enough all at the same time. And he starts mumbling it all, tongue loosened by the pleasure, he doesn’t even know what he’s saying. Soft praises, whines, utter gibberish about how good you feel. He can’t stop, even when you giggle and press butterfly kisses to the words as they leave his lips. He wants to help you let go again, he wants to feel you squeeze around his cock the same way you did around his fingers, but he hasn’t got the presence of mind to do it. Not while he’s hanging over the edge the way he is.

A much more rational part of his mind, somewhere in the back, reminds him that he’s forgone the one cardinal rule of high school sex ed classes. In the spontaneous haste of it all, neither of you thought about a condom. He’s clean, obviously. He trusts you to be clean, obviously. But there’s still the question of where. Because he’s dangerously close and there’s going to come a point where it’s too late to ask. He doesn’t even realise he’s asked the question, in the middle of his mumbled monologue, until you’re answering him with your own question.

“Can I choose?” You interrupt his rambling with a wicked glint in your eye. In all honesty, you’re sure you could ask him anything in this moment, and his answer would be yes. Though, it turns out he’s only got the capacity to nod an affirmative.

“Oh my God…”

That’s all you get when you pull off of him suddenly, sinking to your knees on the carpet in front of him. Whatever it was that might have followed is cut off abruptly by your tongue swirling around the head of his cock.

He’s right on the edge, that much is obvious, it won’t take much - and there’s nothing more you want right now than to thoroughly unravel this man. Usually so put together, buttoned up, absolutely falling to pieces under your touch. While he’s a comfortable thickness, you’re not up to trying to swallow the length of him. Frankly, neither of you have the patience to torture him with the preparation it would take, not today at least. So you settle for wrapping your lips around the head, eyes locked on his furrowed brow as he watches you, and suck. Every swipe of your tongue over him drags another groan, gasp, whine of your name. It’s dangerous information, knowing how he sounds when he’s like this. You’re not sure you’ll be able to think of anything else for the rest of your life. Looking him in the eye over the next round table is going to be interesting, to say the least. It only takes one more swirl of your tongue over him to open the floodgates.

You swallow down every last drop he gives you, warm and tangy but not unpleasant, as his spine curves towards you. Another breathless chuckle, and he strokes a finger down the side of your face when you pull off of him with a satisfying pop. Your tongue pokes out automatically, just to prove to him that you did in fact take the lot - just to watch his eyes roll back in his head again.

“Where the fuck did you come from?” Spencer’s talking to himself more than he is you, as he hauls you back up and into his lap. Dick softening slowly between you, he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you again, to swipe his tongue through the remnants of himself on your lips.

“I’ve been around a while, thanks for noticing.” You’re joking, nipping at his jaw, shifting as the sticky mess between your legs begs you for a quick shower before bed. The amusement on your tongue dies when you open your eyes, to see him watching you again.

“Trust me,” He’s looking at you so earnestly, you’re worried you might cry, “I noticed you a long time ago.”

It’s early when you wake - when the world is bathed in that shade of blue that only seems to exist just before the sun rises. You’re warm. Tethered to the earth by the set of arms wrapped snugly around your middle, by the steady heartbeat beneath the chest where you rest your head. Spencer isn’t awake, not really, not yet. But he shifts as you snuffle in closer under the duvet and tighten your grip in the old Academy t-shirt he’d swiped from your closet. A soft press of lips against your forehead and you sigh contentedly, more than happy to let the morning waste away. Everything else can wait.

Or at least, you want to let it wait - the blaring ringtone of your work phone in the living room puts a relative damper on that particular plan.

“Let it ring.” Comes a tired voice from somewhere above your head. Craning your neck, you spot him blinking and bleary eyed in the morning light, and take a moment to savour it. Him. He turns his gaze to you, tired as it is, and smiles softer than you’ve ever seen. It’s unspoken, a silent agreement made just before sunrise in your bed. Whatever this is, you’re in it together. So you tug the neckline of the t-shirt down, just far enough to plant a kiss in the hollow of his throat before dragging yourself from his warmth to hunt down your screeching phone.

You’re twisting your key in the front door when he plucks up the courage to ask the looming question.

“Are we telling them, or not yet?” Watching fingers tighten around the strap of his messenger bag has your mind hurtling back to the night before, and exactly what those fingers were doing. You shrug, reaching over to untangle his anxious grip and loop his hands through yours. A smile, bright as the rising sun, breaks out on Spencer’s face. You can’t help but mirror it when you answer him.

“That depends on who you want to win the betting pool.”

“There’s a pool?”

fun fact the inspiration for this was i wanted to sit in spencer reid’s lap so now we all get to sit in spencer reid’s lap you’re welcome🧡

#im actually incapable of writing anything that doesn’t involve yearning okay #it has absolutely no bearing on this fic whatsoever but i’m envisioning season 6 spencer here idk why #that’s a lie i DO know why #lou writes #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you

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kissofenha · 3 days

Text

— IS THIS FALLING IN LOVE?

pairing -idol!riki x fem!reader ୨୧ wc - 500+ ₊˚⊹ genre fluff, one shot ୨ warnings - not proofread⠀✩｡:*･. danielle side note thank u for requesting, its kind of barf but here it is TT

ᝰ feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated and encouraged! PLS REBLOG

THE BUSTLING STREETS OF SEOUL ARE BOTH exciting and overwhelming for you, a 18-year-old exchange student from Germany. You've been in South Korea for a few months now.

One such encounter happens on a rainy afternoon. You duck into a convenience store to escape the downpour and grab a quick snack. As you peruse the shelves, your attention is caught by a tall boy fumbling with an umbrella near the entrance.

You both reach for the same packet of ramen at the exact moment, your hands brushing lightly. "Oh, sorry!" you exclaim, stepping back with an embarrassed smile.

"No, it's okay," he replies, his voice warm and friendly. "You can take it."

You hesitate, then decide to share a small laugh over the coincidence. "Maybe we can both get one," you suggest, grabbing another packet from the shelf.

"Um also, do I know you from somewhere?" you ask, furrowing your brows in thought.

The boy chuckles, running a hand through his hair. "I don't think so. I'm Riki,by the way."

"I'm Y/N," you introduce yourself with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Riki."

Riki nods, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. "You're not from around here, are you?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm an exchange student from Germany. I've been here for a few months now."

"Germany, huh? That's cool," Riki says, genuinely interested. "What brings you to Seoul?"

You launch into a brief explanation of your exchange program and your experiences in South Korea so far. Riki listens attentively, nodding along and asking questions now and then.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Y/N," Riki says eventually, checking his watch. "I should probably get going."

"Yeah, same here," you agree, realizing you've been in the store longer than you intended. "Maybe I'll see you around?"

Riki grins. "Count on it."

As months pass, your feelings for Riki deepen. You find yourself looking forward to your meetings, your heart fluttering with every smile he directs your way.

With your time to go, the thought of leaving leaves a hollow feeling in Riki’s chest. He knows he has to tell you how he feels, but the fear of rejection holds him back.

As you leave for the plane, you hear a voice.

“YN!”

You turn your head to find Riki standing on the other side, his eyes meeting yours. Riki’s heart pounds in his chest. Gathering his courage, he takes your hand. "Y/N, there's something I need to tell you."

You look at him, your eyes wide with anticipation. “Riki?"

"I've liked you for a while now," he confesses, his voice trembling. "I didn't know how to say it, but I can't let you leave without telling you. You're special to me, more than just a friend."

Tears well up in your eyes. You squeeze his hand, a radiant smile breaking across your face. "I like you too, Riki. I was afraid to say anything because I didn't want to make things complicated."

taglist : @flwrstqr @cupidhoons @copyhanni @jwsdoll @dioll @leoosoot

#୨ৎ kissofenha #enhypen imagines #enha x reader #enhypen fluff #enha heeseung #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #enhypen heeseung #nishimura riki x reader #nishimura riki #nishimura riki smau #nishimura riki imagines #nishimura riki x you #nishimura riki fluff #yang jungwon #jay enhypen #jungwon #enhypen jungwon #enhypen niki

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allurilove · 17 hours

Note

HI! Me again! SO.....i don't know if you do like little prefrences or something, so I'll just leave this idea here. How would reacht your yandere characters if reader have period cramps? like...what would they do to....*relieve* the pain? uu

Rated 18 + -- mature short content ! i mean not really.

They heard that sex helps and they ran with it--

But to be honest..

Yandere stalker and yandere blood bag is gonna be all over you, and his hand would be underneath your pants before you know it. Blood doesn't scare him, it literally turns him on. like omg. After he's done finger-fucking you, he'll lick his fingers clean, wash 'em, and repeat.

Yandere husband is probably the one with more knowledge about it, he has older sisters and he'll help you through it. He'll buy you a heating pad, all the food you want, and if you need space from him, he'll actually leave you alone. Which idk, seems pretty much like the bare minimum, but he's a needy man.

Yandere classmate (yearbook guy) and yandere chaebol... let's be real they're probably indifferent. "Oh you're on your period? Cool, me too."

Yandere boyfriend is like yandere husband, and he'll would be more of the worried type. He'll research for all of the things that could help with cramps and heavy flows. He'll draw a bath for you, and then also climb in and say he has cramps too.

Yandere survivor tries his best to cook for you. He doesn't want to burden you with anything, so he'll go out and look for the best humans to eat. He'll drag em, throw them down any hill and pray that it breaks their neck, and he would cook them. If that doesn't please you... his dismembered cock can. He legit carries it around with him, just imagine a man without a dick, but it's literally on a stick and in his hands.

Yandere prodigy's first thought is hmm. He would shrug and be like "yeah makes sense." Then he'll bring you flowers after your performances, chocolates, and something to cuddle at night (cause he's scared to ask you to cuddle him).

Yandere best friend is understanding. He has been around you long enough to know how you get when you're on your period. He would eat you out if you asked.

Yandere professor he's not around much, since he is your literal professor and he can't be seen with you in public. But when you tell him you're having a rough day, he'll let you skip his class (how generous..)

Yandere neighbor will drop by your house with a fresh plate of cookies. He'll pretend he's just here to be nice, and then find some way to convince you to let him stay for longer. Maybe, he'll also convince you to let him hit it raw so you don't have to deal with periods for nine months.

I think this is everyone....???

#Allurilove asks #yandere x vampire you #yandere prodigy x rival you #yandere boyfriend x you #yandere best friend #yandere x zombie reader #yandere stalker x you #yandere classmate x you #yandere husband x you #yandere chaebol x you #yandere neighbor x you #yandere professor x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere drabble #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x y/n

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a-french-coconut · 2 days

Text

Solangelo

His day begins wonderfully.

Truly, it's one of those days where you wake up and think :

Nothing can go wrong !

And for two minutes, nothing goes wrong !

He doesn't stub his toes on the bathroom counter, his hair decided to cooperate on this fine day and the sun doesn't burn his eyes when he gets out in the open air.

Then, he sees Kayla an Austin trying, and failing horribly, to hang an enormous bander on Apollo's porch.

For one second, he is left in utter incomprehension as of why they would hand a sign saying Hyppe Bathdirt Will !

Then, to his grand horror, the bright orange letters makes a lot more sense when they spell Happy Birthday Will !

It's August 23rd.

Will's sixteenth birthday.

And Nico doesn't have a single gift to present to his boyfriend tonight.

Nor does he have a romantic date planned out, no fancy restaurant, not even a picnic on the beach.

"Nico !"

Kayla screams his name, making with her hand the universal sign of get over here.

One he can't ignore considering the bow hanging loosely on the girl's shoulder.

He has learned the painful way Kayla doesn't take too well being ignored.

But it's no problem, he's a demigod who fought two wars, survived Tartarus, he's capable of making a plan, of thinking rationally. He can still get Will a gift, doesn't have to be something big or shiny. It can be flowers or a box of chocolates.

What flowers does Will like ?

What kind of chocolates does he eat ?

Knowing him, he could eat the plainest almond chocolate or a specific pistachio with rose petals and lavender flavored one.

He had seen his boyfriend gulp down a raw egg yolk, claiming its "protein values.". From since, he likes to keep his mind open to any culinary gustos his boyfriend might have.

"Hey Nico, could you-"

"Help me."

"-help us ?"

Kayla drops the banner, eliciting a groan of frustration from Austin, and looks at him seriously.

"Nico Di Angelo, if you tell me on this day of all day that-"

"I forgot."

It's quite interesting to see Kayla's face reddens with anger, then slack with disbelief to finally settle in a disappointed glare.

"You've been dating for-"

"Four months, twenty-two days and five hours, I know, I keep track."

"Stop cutting me off or I'll shoot you."

"Hum, not to interrupt but Kay, we really need to put-"

"Austin," Nico cuts him off, "I am in dire need of both your assistance. Who, or what, is more important, the banner or me ?"

"The banner." The two children of Apollo answer at the same time.

First step of the plan, failed epically.

On to phase two, bargaining.

"If you help me choose a gift for Will, I'll buy you whatever you want for your upcoming birthdays."

"My birthday was two months ago."

"Yeah, and mine is like, in five months."

Phase three, the one he wanted to avoid.

"Please."

It's not that he isn't polite, he wouldn't want his mother turning in her grave, but he deems a annoying little sister like Kayla isn't worthy of his respect.

Not when she obviously takes great joy in seeing him in such a predicament.

One he caused himself, but that's not the point here.

"Okay, we'll help you." Kayla relents.

"For free even !" Austin adds.

They look at him expectantly, while he looks them waiting the just promised aid.

"The magic word if you may." she enquires.

"I already said it."

"The other one."

"Oh, thank you."

Kayla's face glows, while Austin, bless his gentle soul, gives him a gracious "you're welcome."

"I was thinking to get him something like flower or chocolates-"

"Boring."

"Okay... then Star Wars thingies ?"

"He already has every merch ever created."

"Flip flops ?"

"Don't feed his weird fetish of flip flops, I beg of you."

"Hum, lipgloss ?"

"Now you're just out of ideas." Kayla cackles, "and nice to know Will's lips are as chapped as they look. He thinks that because dad is the sun, we are immune to it. And he's the doctor. A miracle everyone is still alive."

"My preference for Will's lips are no concern of yours," He replies, cheeks slightly red. "And don't talk bad about him on his sacred day."

"It's not like he can hear me."

"Where did you even sent him ?"

He should have known something was missing when Will didn't barge in his cabin, pulling open the curtains like the psycho he is, always ranting about how he needs more vitamin D.

"He's in New York the whole day," Austin pipes up, "he's spending his birthday with his mother and then we will celebrate together tonight."

"Which means I have the rest of the day to find him a gift."

"Yep, open to suggestions ?"

"That is literally what I asked of you. Tell me, Kayla, do you perhaps miss a few braincells ? That would explain a lot of things."

"At least my remembering my boyfriend's birthday date cells are working."

"Okay, stop fighting you two." Austin intervenes, placing himself between the both of them. "I think you should get him something that remind him or your couple. It would be a sweet gift, right ?"

"What he said."

"I'm keeping that in mind, thank you Austin, and Kayla, for your assistance."

"You're welcome, now come one Kayla, we really need to hang that thing..."

Something related to their couple...

What could symbolise their relationship, the love they feel for each other ?

Better to have other ideas if inspiration doesn't come.

"What's on your mind, Nicolas ?"

"Don't call me that, Stoll."

"Only if you guess which one I am." The son of Hermes leans on him, looking at him expectantly.

"Connor, now get off me."

"Nothing could have prepared me to this betrayal-"

"So you're Travis, get off me."

"-from a such close friend, who I have known for years-"

"Aren't you supposed to be in college ?"

"-and still doesn't recognise- oh yes but this my best friend's birthday !"

Travis hugs Nico, ignoring the his protests.

"He's turning sixteen ! I remember when he was a small, fray child, such an easy victim !" He sighs, shaking his head, "they grow so fast, don't they ?"

"Mmmhh !"

"What ? Oh sorry, there you go."

He lets him go, Nico putting two good meters between them to avoid any kind of other physical attempts.

"What are you getting him ? Must be something nice !"

"That's the problem, hum, I don't have anything."

Travis' face falls.

"But-" he stutters, "you're his boyfriend !"

"I know !" Nico snaps, "I know and that' why I need to fix this."

"Do you have any ideas ?"

"Austin and Kayla think that I should gift him a present related to our relationship."

"That's a good idea !" Travis' face brightens.

"But I don't know what, yet."

"Oh..."

"Yeah..." Nico mumbles, twisting nervously his skull ring.

"Ooooh" Travis says, excited, " I know the perfect gift !"

"What it is ?"

"A motorbike !"

"Travis..."

"It's perfect ! And he already know how to drive, we used to do races in his grandpa's farm fields and he loved them !"

"There's no way I'll find a bike in less than twenty four hours."

"No, but I can ask Nyssa to build one," Travis shrugs, "she'll have it ready before sundown."

"Tell her that I owe her." Nico screams to Travis as he sprints toward the forges.

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

"Shhh ! He's coming !"

"Yeah , I see him."

"Is he glowing ?"

"Obviously, Lou Ellen, he just spent the whole with his mother, who he adores."

"Shut up Travis."

"Make me-"

"If you two ruin this surprise, I'll send you to my father right now."

"So grumpy, and it's not a surprise. Have you not seen the gigantic banner ? By the way, why is it not on Apollo's cabin like it was supposed to ?"

"We had complications."

"That's slight way to say that you didn't want to help me, Kayla."

"Don't listen to Austin, Travis, he's lying."

"Everybody close their dam mouths ! He's getting closer."

"I understood that reference."

"And I understood that reference."

"Gods give me strength."

When they hear Will's footsteps passing their hiding place, Cecil mouths to the group a countdown.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY WILL !" They all scream while standing up to hug Will, who is effectively glowing.

"Guys, you really didn't need to do all of this." His boyfriend says, cheeks a bright red.

"Nonsense Willy !"

"Travis ! You came !"

"Everything for my best friend."

They hug, Will laughing at something Travis whispers in his ear before his gaze falls on Nico.

The way his face lights up, a beautiful smile gracing his features, makes Nico's heart pound faster, skeletons butterfly flying in his stomach.

"Nico !"

Will's hugs are the warmest embraces Nico ever felt, they're comforting, heart-warming, familiar now.

Even so, he never gets tired of them.

"Happy birthday, amore mio." He whispers in his ear.

After lot of embarrassing stories, Travis being the main reason of that, and new created memories, it's finally time to open the presents.

Austin and Kayla gave Will a charm bracelet, with customised charms relating different stories the three of them shared.

Drew offered him a very nice sweater, something about she can't have friends wearing only flannels and cargo shorts.

Travis' gift was a photo album, enchanted by Lou Ellen so that the pictures were alive, going from their childhood to today.

Finally, it's Nico's turn.

"I actually have two gifts for you."

"So thoughtful of you." Will smiles, looking at him fondly.

"The first one is Travis' idea though."

"Yeah, you can thank Nyssa later too."

"What did you- oh by Apollo !"

He has to say, Nyssa did a wonderful job.

The motorbike is gleaming, freshly painted and even though Nico has no knowledge of bikes, he can see that it is a true beauty.

"This is amazing !" Will swoons over the bike, "I can't wait to get my licence to drive it !"

"You know, technically you don't need-"

"Travis, I'm going to get my licence."

"If you insist."

Will rolls his eyes before looking back at Nico.

"Thank you, love, this is a wonderful gift."

Nico's throat goes dry, nervousness jolting his body.

"I have to warn you, the second gift is, hum, well, I'm afraid you might find it too intensive."

"Nico," Will takes his hands, "nothing from you is too intensive."

"Then here you go."

He takes out of his pocket a little box and opens it.

Two matching rings, one golden and the other black, are inside. On the metal is engraved "I love you".

Will's breath hitch and Nico is afraid to have gone too far.

"I know this is a big gesture-"

Will kisses him, a light kiss since they have a public but Nico feels the passion behind it, the underlying love and affection Will holds for him.

"I love them", his boyfriend softly says, putting on his ring, "I love you too Nico di Angelo."

"Oh my gods, did they just get engaged ?"

"Cecil, please shut up."

Will laughs, his cheerful laugh that you can't help but join and soon, sounds of joy and happiness echo in the night as they party the whole night.

"How did you get the harpies to leave us alone ?" Will asks Travis, contently seated next to Nico, an arm around his waist.

"I'm full of surprises."

"He volunteered to help them the whole week in kitchen duty."

"Cecil ! Stop spilling my secrets !"

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #will solace #travis stoll #drew tanaka #camp half blood #lou ellen blackstone #cecil markowitz #nico di angelo #solangelo #apollo cabin #kayla knowles #austin lake

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typical-simplelove · 3 days

Text

How Did It End? (C. Alcaraz)

Author's Note: If you know the song, it only kind of follows the song, but this has been an idea circulating in my mind for a while. I want to say more, but then it would spoil the ending, so please read!!! Let me know what you think :)

Word Count: 6.9k

Warnings: brief mentions/allusions to death

Taking a deep breath, you walked into the coffee shop. Despite being a mutual friend and getting good references from the in-between friend, it’s still nerve-wracking going on a blind date. Well, it was only a semi-blind date. You’ve met him before, and you stalked his Instagram after briefly setting up a time and date with him.

Carlos Alcaraz.

The man of the moment in the tennis world.

A friend of a friend, who apparently, according to the mutual friend, has been asking about you. He’d been asking about you for the past couple of months, and the mutual friend finally decided to talk to you and talk up the man in question.

Carlos was a stupidly beautiful man. From his side profile to his hair to his legs, he was an all-around beautiful man, and if your friend was telling the truth, he had a nice, funny, and great personality.

He seemed to be everything you’ve been looking for in a partner.

Once stepping inside, you moved to the side, wanting to people-watch and observe Carlos before walking up to him. He was standing near where the line for ordering and paying was ending, gesturing for people to get in line as he was waiting and not yet in line. He was nervous, pulling at the edge of his sleeves, playing with his watch.

Deciding to take him out of his misery, you walk towards Carlos. It was as if he could sense your presence because when you’re a few feet away, Carlos looks up. When his eyes meet yours, a big smile grazes his face.

“Hi, it’s nice to see you again,” Carlos says once he walks over to you.

“Likewise,” you smile. “Should we order?”

He nods. “I was super nervous and got here early, so I know what I want.”

You can’t help but chuckle. Damn, that was cute. Carlos was cute—in every measure of the word.

Maybe this date wouldn’t go so badly.

When you and Carlos get in line, neither of you says anything. The likely conclusion was that you were focusing on what to order and Carlos was respecting that, but the nerves in your body were circulating like crazy, so maybe the nerves were part of the reason why you couldn’t put any words together to say anything.

The heat reflecting off of Carlos’ body onto you is indescribable, and you can’t help but fan yourself as your body grows in warmth at his proximity.

Thankfully, the wait in line isn’t long, and you don’t have to find something to say that isn’t along the lines of, “Your body is so warm that it’s making me overheat, but in a good way.”

Carlos gestures for you to go ahead, and as you walk up to the cashier, you immediately feel iciness take over your body as you move away from him and his incredulous warmth.

“Hi, yes, can I get a . . .” you begin, picking out your desired coffee and two pastries.

“And, can I get a sweet iced lemon tea and the gluten-free, vegan chocolate-chip loaf, please,” Carlos says from behind you, and you’re suddenly very much aware of his body near yours. It’s so obvious that you can’t even begin to comprehend the insanity of Carlos’ order.

As the barista turns their screen around to show you the total and awaits your credit card’s tap, Carlos’ phone is quick, resting against the screen.

With a quick thank you, both you and Carlos move away from the line. “I could pay for myself, and us, by the way,” you mention, hoping you don’t sound snarky. You just wanted him to know that you were capable of it, that’s all.

He nods. “Next time. Do you want to sit at that table?” He’s gesturing towards a little corner table.

“Sure.”

When you both take a seat, an awkwardness overtakes the two of you. Now, there’s no excuse of reading a menu to use as the reason for the silence. You try not to let yourself get disappointed. After all, chemistry isn’t always instant, and quick, easy banter isn’t always natural. Sometimes, it takes getting to know someone before that conversation easily flows and ebbs. You were hoping (more like begging) that the latter would the situation with you and Carlos. He had a pull on you, and you wanted to discover that pull.

Thankfully, it’s only a few moments of silence before the barista calls out your order number, and Carlos is quick to tell you he can grab everything and bring it back to the table. You agree, but still get up, moving towards the napkins to grab a bunch.

“Your order is quite an enigma,” you tell him after taking a sip of your coffee.

“Enigma?”

“A mystery.”

He nods. “In what way?”

“No coffee?”

Carlos shakes his head, a smile gracing his face. “I think I add a lot of sugar to my coffee. I wouldn’t want you to think that I was a child on our first date.”

“So you got the tea?” you tease.

“Seemed like the safest option.”

“But the loaf? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Carlos chuckles, letting his deep laughter fill the space between the two of you.

“The drink has a lot of sugar in it, so I balanced it out,” he explains.

You shake your head, trying to hide the wide smile that’s trying to broach your face. “That’s kind of ridiculous.”

He shrugs. “It works for me.”

You’re looking down at your coffee, and when you look up at Carlos, you find him already staring at you, his dark eyes looking deeply at you. “So,” you start, clearing your throat from the intimacy and intensity of the situation. “Tell me about your family.”

. . .

“I’m one of four brothers,” he starts.

“Four? Your poor mother; the level of testosterone in your household must have been insane,” you joke, unable to stop a smile from crossing your face.

Again, he shrugs. Does he know how cute his shrug is? “I don’t know how to measure testosterone.”

Your forehead crinkles in amusement as you shake your head. He’s so effortlessly funny and adorable that you’re not sure he’s real. How can someone this attractive also be silly, funny, and adorable at the same time? He was a paradox—a paradox that you wanted to learn more about. “Don’t worry about it; it’s more of a vibe than it is something to measure,” you explain.

“A vibe,” he repeats, looking contemplative.

“Anyway, tell me more about your brothers,” you prompt.

Thinking about his brothers, Carlos’ eyes light up. It’s clear how much he loves his family. He gives you brief introductions to his brothers, throwing in small comments and stories about the four of them.

“Do you have pictures?” you ask, curious to see pictures of him growing up, beyond what you can find from stalking his Instagram or going deep in a Google Search.

“Sí, sí,” he answers, pulling out his phone. In a few photographs, he shows you his family, taking a brief moment to watch as you take his phone for a closer look.

“You have a cute family,” you say, smiling.

Carlos wanted to comment on you one day joining his family, but he wasn’t sure if that was too forward for a first date and if it would make him look creepy. So, he opted to give you a small smile with a curt nod. “Tell me about your family. I’ve been talking a lot.”

It took you a moment to try to find the right words, and when you did, you dove in about your family and loved ones, telling small anecdotes about your childhood and the past couple of years.

From there, the conversation flowed easily, with you and Carlos exchanging questions back and forth trying to get to know each other. Before either of you know it, the cafe is getting ready to close soon.

“I guess we should get out of here,” Carlos says, eyeing the barista starting to sweep on the other side of the establishment.

“Probably,” you reply, slowly getting out of your seat and collecting your trash.

“Did you want to go do something else?” Carlos prompts, hoping you’ll say yes but also that he’s not being too forward.

Glancing down at your phone, you notice the time and how it’s close to seven. “I want to, but I’ve got to get home and get some work done. I’ve got some assignments due soon. Maybe later this week or next?”

Despite how long you and Carlos spent talking, the conversation, surprisingly never reached the topic of his tennis or your academic studies and work.

“I have to leave for a tournament,” Carlos says, “but maybe when I get back and you’re in a lighter week of work and assignments?”

You smile. “I’d like that a lot.”

“What are you studying?” Carlos prompts you after you both receive your ice cream from the vendor and begin walking along a path in the park near your apartment.

You give him a small glare because he asked you the question right when you took a bite of your ice cream. When he catches your eye as you glare, he gives you a small smirk. After swallowing, you tell him what you’re studying.

“How did you decide upon that?” he asks.

“I kind of thought about what I didn’t want to do, and then from there, I looked at my options and used my personality and skills to find a path that I felt best suited me.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

You nod enthusiastically. “A lot, yeah.”

“Tell me about some of the classes you’re taking.”

With a deep breath, you dive into the classes you’re taking—from the ones that are focused on the major and career path to the ones that fulfill your general education requirements. You also fill in Carlos about your job and the extracurriculars you participate in in addition to your heavy course load.

“So, I should be honored that I’ve been put into your schedule more than once, considering how busy you are,” he jokes, but it’s clear that he’s sincere and is putting himself out there, showing you how important you are to him, despite only seeing each other for a month.

A short laugh escapes your lips. “Don’t let that go to your head. Regardless, you’re pretty busy with tennis, so if anything the honor should be mine. You travel a lot, and I kind of just stay here.”

“If it’s important, I’ll find the time for it,” Carlos says, no hint of teasing or flirting in his voice. He’s serious. You don’t want to look at him because you know his eyes are on you, and if the way your face is heating up from being under his gaze, you know his gaze is intense, making sure you understand fully the gravity of his words.

You can’t help it, though, and look at him. He’s still looking at you, his eyes searching your face. He looks worried, as if he might have overstepped the unwritten and invisible line. Finally, the words leave your mouth, and you say, “I feel the same way.”

“Good,” he murmurs under his breath, barely above a whisper. It’s a surprise that you can hear his words. However, whenever you’re around Carlos, your senses are heightened and elevated, so it’s no wonder you’re acutely attuned to his words.

As if embarrassed, you and Carlos both turn away from each other, opting to look ahead as you both continue walking and eating your ice cream.

“Why tennis?” you voice, trying to ease and thin the intensity brewing between you and Carlos.

His eyes crinkle in line with the smile. Even though you’re only seeing his side profile, you can tell that he’s got a wide smile on his face. This might be only the second time that you and Carlos are meeting in person, but you can already tell that you’re falling fast and hard for this man. The past couple of weeks since the cafe date have been filled with you and Carlos communicating constantly. Between the memes and videos sent back and forth on Instagram to the actual, silly conversations conversed via text, there was no limit to reasons you could point to for Carlos being someone who you would want to keep seeing and potentially date further down the line.

“Rafael Nadal” is his reply with little to no explanation. “He was my hero growing up, and I wanted to play just like him. And as I started playing, I started to love the sport. It’s all I want to do, now.”

Your heart warms at his enthusiasm and love for the sport. It’s hard to find people who truly feel so passionately about something, and it’s admirable to see this trait in Carlos. “I’m glad that you have that.”

“Thank you,” Carlos says, giving you a small smile.

From there, the conversation stills, but it doesn’t feel awkward. It’s comfortable. It feels like if you say anything, it would be forcing a conversation that isn’t supposed to happen. Walking in silence is comfortable and unique and precious. You’re enjoying the peacefulness while walking with Carlos; it feels as if everything is right for the first time in a long time.

Now and then, while walking, Carlos (or is it you?) will accidentally (but is it?) bump his arm against yours or will accidentally (again, is it??) brush his hand against yours. At first, you thought it was because sometimes it’s difficult to perpetually walk in a straight line, and he apologized for the first couple of times, but when he kept doing it and stopped apologizing, you tried your hardest to hide a bashful smile at his small attempts at physical contact. He was trying, and it was cute. It was clear, too, that he had no idea if his attempts were working, and he didn’t know how to initiate anything—if the inability to look at you and his perpetual staring off into the distance were any indication.

You decided to take him out of his misery.

“Are you done with your ice cream? I’m going to toss mine in the trash up ahead; I can take yours,” you comment.

“Sure,” he replies, placing his empty container into yours for ease of throwing out. You try not to laugh at the way he made sure none of his fingers touched yours. When you looked up at him during the interaction, his eyes were hooded, and his cheeks were lightly dusted pink. You couldn’t tell if the pink was from the warmth of the day or from being around you; you were hoping it was the latter.

When you and Carlos approached the trash can, you broke formation, jogging slightly ahead to toss the trash. As you rejoined him, you made sure to have your arm parallel to his, with your hand close to his. Carlos has been the one to take the initiative in physical contact, so you decided to follow suit, attempting to reassure it wasn’t one-sided.

For a few minutes, now and then, you’d brush your hand against his, letting your pink finger gently graze his knuckles. The first few times you did the action, you could hear Carlos’ breath hitch. He was surprised and nervous, but it was cute.

Damn, Carlos was so cute; you couldn’t contain how cute he was, in every definition of the word beyond physicality.

You continued to tease him, trying to see how bashful he could get. Eventually, you decided to take him out of his misery when you noticed he stopped pointing out the ducks that he saw swimming in the adjacent lake or the little babies and toddlers in their strollers. In a swift motion, you linked your pinky finger with his, your thumb making soft circles on the back of his hand, across his knuckles.

You wanted to hold his hand, but you didn’t want to push Carlos beyond what he was comfortable with. So, you didn’t do anything else. You kept your pinky finger interlocked with his. He didn’t make any motion or movement indicating he was uncomfortable with the action or that he wanted you to remove your hand.

However, you did notice that his breathing got heavier. For someone as fit as Carlos, the short, brisk, and slow walk you were taking shouldn’t have been something that caused him to get out of breath. His rapid blinking was a dead giveaway. Carlos was building up the courage to do something. You didn’t want to spook him, but you also wanted to reassure him that you were okay with whatever he wanted to do, so you brushed your elbow against his.

That seemed to be everything he needed because, within seconds, Carlos was taking your entire hand in his, interlocking your fingers with his. This time, you can’t help the wide smile that erupts across your face.

Oh, this man.

“Okay?” Carlos asks, nervously, not wanting to overstep anything.

You nod. “It’s all okay.”

For the next month and a half, or so, following your and Carlos’ date at the park, you were regularly hanging out and seeing each other, with the in-between moments filled with phone calls and text messages. Even if he was traveling, Carlos made a concerted effort to work around both your and his schedules to find perfect times to text you uninterrupted or call you. That didn’t stop, though, the random thoughts that popped into his head. These random thoughts never failed to put a giant, goofy smile on your face.

There were no words to explain the way Carlos made you feel; the only way you could sum it up was that you really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really liked him.

Finally, after not seeing each other in person for almost two weeks, your work and class schedule aligned with Carlos’ training, business, and tournament schedule to have a movie night.

Because he still lived with his parents and didn’t want to subject you to that (and you weren’t quite ready for that), the decision was for him to go to your apartment. It was the first time you were going to be together in one of your guys’ living places. Often, you hung out in public places together, from little cafes to restaurants to the times he joined you at the library or study locations during intense exam times.

His being in your home was a new level of intimacy you weren’t ready for, but it was exciting to show him a new piece of yourself.

When Carlos walked into your apartment (twenty minutes early!), you gave him an apartment tour, albeit a short tour. This didn’t stop Carlos, though, from asking questions about various decor choices you made or pictures you have hanging around the place. Even the smallest details weren’t lost on him, and he soaked in every moment of learning about your living environment.

“It’s not a big deal, Carlos.” You try to take him away from the shelves littered with old picture books and frames and yearbooks.

“It’s a very big deal,” he says, pulling a book with pictures from your first year of university. With wide eyes, you snatch the photo album from his hands, remembering some of the more embarrassing photos of you in it, not ready for that kind of vulnerability.

You try to ignore the teasing pout on Carlos’ face as he tries to guilt-trip you into letting him see the photo album. “You brought some really great snacks and take-out; let’s eat.”

Walking into your kitchen, you try to ignore the presence of Carlos in your living space and what it means for your relationship. Neither of you have brought up the topic of the status of your relationship. It doesn’t necessarily worry you, but you hope it naturally comes up soon.

“Hey,” Carlos says, approaching you in the kitchen. He places his hands on your waist, gently, in an attempt not to spook you. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” And it was the truth; you just didn’t want him to see embarrassing photos of you.

“Still,” he murmurs, kissing your temples, one at a time, before following the same pattern with your cheeks before moving to your neck, followed by your shoulders. “Should have asked first.”

You turn around in his embrace to look at him. “I have very embarrassing photos of me in that album. I’m hoping I go to the grave before anyone else sees those photos.”

“Embarrassing photos, you say? Now, I know what I’m doing when you go to the bathroom,” Carlos jokes.

“Oh, shut up,” you reply, your face growing warm. You try to turn back to face the counter while still remaining in Carlos’ embrace, but his eyes are captivating you, and the feel of his hands on your waist paralyzes you. Without any words, you rest your hands at the back of Carlos’ neck and pull him in for a kiss. You can feel the smile/smirk on his face as his lips touch yours.

“No promises,” he murmurs against your lips as you pull away. In one swift motion, he turns you around and moves to your side to help you get the to-go containers situated.

With ease, you and Carlos set out placemats on your coffee table in front of your TV and set the various food, snacks, and drinks on the table to have for the movie.

“Preferences on a movie?” you question, settling on the couch next to Carlos. You follow up the question by listing out the various streaming services you have.

“Pick one of your favorites first,” he replies, moving forward to make a plate of food and snacks for himself.

You nod, picking one of your favorite movies to show. There’s no better test to a relationship than showing the other person one of your favorite movies. As the movie begins and continues through the plot, you’re extremely aware of Carlos’ presence on your couch. It’s different, but you like it. You like him here with you, and you want him always here with you.

Halfway through the movie, you’re moving to adjust your legs into a more comfortable position. You’re not quite sure which pose or stance is going to be the most comfortable, so you’re trying out a few different stances. Carlos notices, and when you stop moving but are clearly trying to find a different pose, he takes your legs and drapes them across his lap, resting his hands on your ankles, brushing little patterns along the skin on your lower leg.

Yeah, that was the pose.

“Okay?” he asks. That was his thing. Whenever he tried something physical that was new to your relationship, he always followed it up with this question.

You nod. “Okay.”

A brief smile overtakes his face before he returns his attention to the movie. Through the remainder of the movie, your legs are comfortable in his lap as his hands trace patterns across the exposed skin of your legs. Normally, you were very ticklish; you couldn’t get through a pedicure without giggling and flinching. However, when Carlos traces his patterns and touches your legs, you don’t notice it. You’re not ticklish one little bit. Interesting, you think to yourself.

When the movie is over, you give him the remote. “Your turn. Pick a movie.”

He nods, taking the remote in one hand, and leaving his other hand firmly on your legs in his lap. He’s scrolling through the various options when he gets a phone call.

“It’s my mother,” Carlos tells you. “Okay if I answer it?”

You nod. “Of course.”

As he answers the call, you lean forward to grab some of the snacks on the coffee table. You try not to listen to his conversation, but his mother on the other side of the phone is loud. Either, she talks very loudly or the volume is very loud, and you’re not sure which one it is.

“Where are you?” you hear his mother say. Your attention is heightened and focused on Carlos’ response. What is he going to say? You’re not looking at him, but from your periphery, you see him look at you as he figures out what to say.

“Out” is what he decides to go with. Okay, interesting.

“¿Con tu novia?” she replies (with your girlfriend?).

That makes you sit up straighter. Now, you were very interested in what he was going to say.

“Sí” is what he follows with.

You don’t hear what she replies with. Your ears are ringing with the knowledge that Carlos called you his girlfriend. Hopefully, he wasn’t just saying it to get his mother off his back and actually meant it.

Another minute passes of Carlos talking on the phone before he hangs up the phone. You’re not looking at him, and he can’t get a good read off of what you’re feeling or thinking. He knows that neither of you has brought up the topic, but he’s been telling people he has a girlfriend. Maybe he should have talked about it with you first before telling people, but it doesn’t change how he feels about you and where he wants the relationship to go. He opts to continue flipping through the movie selections, giving you the time to process and figure out what you want to say.

“Am I actually your girlfriend, or is that something you told your mom to get her off your back?” you finally say, hoping it’s the former.

“I hope you’re actually my girlfriend,” he replies, looking at you with hope and fear. “What do you think?”

“I think I’m actually your girlfriend,” you answer, smiling at the way his shoulders relax and the wide smile overcomes his face. “Is that okay?”

“Very okay.” With that, he leans over and gives you a brief kiss. He pulls you closer to his body, wanting to hold you and feel your warmth against his body.

Well, that’s that.

This year’s Indian Wells tournament happened to be at the same time as your Spring Break, so you managed to find some time off from work to fly out to California to be with him during the tournament. You tried to sleep on the plane, but the nerves were wracking through your body. When Carlos is on the road and in different time zones during various tournaments, you managed to work around your schedules well to accommodate the best times to call each other. Not being there with him during tournaments meant you didn’t truly understand how the stress and pressures impacted him as a player. He tried to hide a lot of it while on the phone so that you didn’t feel helpless by only being available over the phone. The dynamics between the two of you would be different with you there in person.

Additionally, this is the most time you’re going to spend with Carlos’ team. You’ve met them and had several conversations with the various team members, but you’ve never spent extended time with them. You hope they don’t think you’re going to be a distraction for Carlos.

To say the least, you were nervous, and that didn’t even compare to the general nervousness you had for Carlos going into a tournament, especially with some of the troubles and issues he’s been having recently.

Because of his practice schedule, Carlos couldn’t meet you at the airport, so you took a taxi from the airport to the hotel where you sat in the lobby waiting for him. He wouldn’t let you get your own room; he wanted you at his side (and bed).

You only had to wait about an hour—like he said—before you saw him walk into the hotel lobby. He was searching for you among the various individuals sitting on the couches in the lobby, and when his eyes met yours, a giant erupted across his face as he moved towards you. You met him halfway, dragging your suitcase behind you.

“Hi,” he whispers into your hair as he holds you tightly.

“Hi,” you whisper into the fabric sitting on his shoulder.

“I’ve missed you.”

“It’s only been a couple of weeks.”

“A couple of weeks too many,” Carlos contradicts, pulling back from the hug and putting his hand in yours before he re-introduces you to his team. Some of the nerves you were feeling dissipated at the happy smiles on their faces.

“All he’s been talking about the past week has been about you arriving here,” Juanki says. “I don’t know if I could take hearing about it for another day.”

Everyone laughs at Juanki’s remarks, and Carlos kisses your forehead. “I’m very happy you’re here,” he whispers to you.

“Me too,” you reply and begin the walk towards the elevator to Carlos’ hotel room.

The week flies by fast. Your days are spent attending various practices and sitting in the Alcaraz box during matches while relaxing with him in between it all. He’s excelling through the tournament, and before you know it, he’s preparing for his appearance in the finals, vying for the opportunity to defend his title.

Throughout the match, you’re clutching at the sleeves of your sweater, trying your best to remain stoic like the rest of his team so as to support Carlos the best you can.

But then the umpire says, “Game. Set. Match. Alcaraz.” And with that, the entire box jumps up and erupts in cheers, and your heart is bursting at how happy you are for Carlos. This was everything he needed to get his momentum back, and you’re so happy for him.

The rest of the day flies by with media and congratulatory conversations and celebratory drinks and dinner. It isn’t until late that you have a quiet moment alone with Carlos. You’re sitting against the headboard of the bed in your pajamas, waiting for Carlos to change into something comfortable after taking a shower.

When he’s ready, he climbs onto the bed and rests his head in your lap. On instinct, your hands go into his hair to play with it and give his head a massage.

“I couldn’t do it without you here,” he murmurs against your thigh as he lowers his inhibitions as you massage his head.

“Yes, you could have,” you contradict, believing in his potential more than he does.

“Well, then, you were a special motivator to win,” Carlos continues, making your heart melt. You bend down and kiss the top of his head before you return to focusing your attention on his head in your lap.

He has to be exhausted, but you can tell he’s trying his hardest to stay awake—to stay awake for you. After a while, he knows that he can’t remain awake for that much longer, so he says, “Come here.” He moves his body to his side of the bed and pats the space next to him. “I want to fall asleep with you in my arms.”

Who are you to deny this adorable man anything? So, you move to switch off the lights and move to maneuver yourself into his arms. When he’s wrapped his arms around your body just so, a sigh of contentment leaves his body, and within seconds, he’s out, his breath even and quiet.

A small smile approaches your face as you kiss his cheek. Within minutes, you, too, are drifting off to sleep, both content with each other.

Quietly, Carlos walks into your apartment, using the key you gave him. You told him that you were busy studying, getting ready for a week of midterms, assignments, and papers due, so he didn’t want to disturb you. However, he’s making sure to make some noise because he doesn’t want you to be startled when he makes his presence known.

Quickly, he shrugs off his shoes and leaves the food and stuff he brought on the kitchen counter, looking around for you. You’re not at the kitchen table where you normally get work done nor are you at the couch where you tend to inhabit when times get stressful. Next, he checks the hallway leading to your bedroom and notices the light on in your room. Before he walks into your room, he returns back to the kitchen and grabs the bouquet of flowers and some of the snacks he bought before going to your room.

When he gets to your open door, he knocks on the door to alert you of his presence. When you hear his knocking, you look up with a big smile and pause the music coming from your computer.

“Hey,” you say, tidying up your bed, slightly, to make room for Carlos among the various textbooks, notebooks, and notes littering your bed.

“Happy Anniversary,” he whispers as he kisses your forehead.

“Happy Anniversary,” you repeat, pulling Carlos in for a hug. With his arms around your body, a lot of the stress that’s been holding you hostage leaves your body. “I’m sorry that I can’t go out tonight or any time this week.”

He shakes his head. “Nonsense. We’ll celebrate our anniversary and you excelling at your work and classes.”

“Thank you,” you say, patting the empty side of your bed for Carlos.

“I’m going to put these flowers in a vase for you first, okay?”

“Okay,” you answer with a small smile.

“I brought you food and stuff. Should I leave it in the kitchen or bring it in here for you?”

“Kitchen,” you reply. “It’ll give me a reason to get out of my filth, but bring some snacks?”

“Obviously,” Carlos remarks before giving you a kiss and walking to put the flowers in a vase. When he returns, he comes back with various chocolate snacks, crackers, and gummies—more than anyone could possibly need.

“Thank you,” you whisper, grabbing one of your favorites and immediately placing it optimally against your leg so you can grab some as you type away on your paper.

“Of course,” he whispers back, climbing onto your bed.

“I charged my tablet, so you can watch something on it while I get work done if you’re planning on staying.”

He nods. It’s remarkable that even with all these things on your mind, you still can think about him and what he might need. “Whatever you need, let me know.”

Carlos arrived at your apartment around late afternoon, and it’s been many hours since he arrived, and you’ve barely lifted your head to breathe. Despite using your tablet to watch a show (one of your favorites that he’s been trying to catch up on to watch it live with you), Carlos has been watching and observing you. He’s been watching you type away on a paper, finish it, check it off on your checklist, and move on to preparing various study guides for exams.

He knows that you said you wanted dinner in the kitchen, but he knows trying to peel you away from your computer is going to be too much to ask, especially in the middle of completing an assignment, so instead, he watches and waits for you to check off something from your to-do list. When you do, he gently takes your computer off your lap and moves it onto the bedside table on his side of the bed.

“Carlos,” you whine.

“Go to the bathroom,” he instructs. As you follow his instructions, he fluffs up your pillows and grabs another one to support your back before he goes to the kitchen to grab dinner for the both of you.

When he gets back to your bedroom, you’re just leaving the bathroom after you used the toilet, washed your face, and brushed your hair.

“I got you some food, so you can eat it while also getting work done,” Carlos says, gesturing for you to sit as he hands you a bowl. When you’re comfortably situated on your bed, Carlos places his bowl on the bedside table and gives you your computer back.

When you get your computer back, you quickly make sure all your documents are saved before closing your computer and putting it to the side. When Carlos gives you a quizzical look, you say, “It’s our anniversary. The least I can do is have dinner with you.”

“No, if you need to get something done, it’s okay,” Carlos contradicts.

You shake your head. “I need a break anyway.”

“But you can—”

“I want to have dinner with you, Carlos, not my computer screen.”

“Okay,” he says, a wide smile overtaking his face.

While this might not have been the anniversary night Carlos thought he would be having with his partner, it was one he wouldn’t trade for anything. You’re a great source of support and love with his tennis career and his insane schedule, so it felt right to return the deed and support and take care of you when you were busy and needed him. After all, that’s what relationships are, Carlos is starting to learn. Taking care of each other, and carrying more of that weight when necessary so your partner doesn’t sink amid everything.

Carlos made a silent vow to be your anchor for as long as you’ll have him—and he hopes it’s forever.

“It’s kind of funny that three years ago, Chris was the one who introduced us, and now we just attended her engagement party, together, as a couple,” Carlos reflects, kissing your forehead. You lean further into his touch, letting his hand fall from yours so that his arm can wrap around your shoulders. He smelled good; he always smelled good.

“Makes you think about how our lives would be different,” you continue. “We could have just been two strangers at this party.”

Carlos shudders. “I don’t want to think about that.”

“Good, me neither,” you reply, looking into his deep, chocolate-brown eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Without saying anything else, Carlos takes your hand in his and begins the walk across the street. It was one of those longer avenues, with less than enough time to cross the street. You follow him, knowing you’d follow him to the ends of the earth.

“You know,” he says when you’re still a few feet away from the mid-point of the avenue-cross way. “Attending an engagement party tonight has got me thinking.”

From his words, you kind of know where he’s going with his thoughts, but you still want to tease and embarrass him as he gets all his thoughts out. “Mmm, dreaming of your white, lacy dress?”

“No,” Carlos says, slightly defensively. You look up at him and can see a faint flush under the street lights as you’re still crossing the street. “Just that maybe we’d want that for us, one day? What do you think?”

You’re still looking at him and crossing the street when you see his eyes go wide with fear. His face lights up with the white of a headlight, and for a split second you turn your head, and the bright white of the headlights blinds your vision.

At least it’s with the love of your life, you think to yourself as Carlos squeezes your hand one last time.

. . .

As the headlights blared into your eyes, you blinked, bringing you back to the little corner table where you and Carlos were sitting—back to the present, away from your imagination.

“I’m one of four brothers,” he starts.

“Four? Your poor mother; the level of testosterone in your household is insane,” you joke, unable to stop a smile from crossing your face.

He continues talking about his brothers, giving you little tidbits about their personalities and activities. He had no idea about the spiral that was going through your head at that moment.

You’ve always known that you tend to overthink and think of the worst-case scenarios. That tended to be the one thing that prevented you from doing things, especially dating; not knowing about the in-betweens or how things ended was unnerving to you. What was going to happen after this first date freaked you out.

“Tell me a little bit about your family,” Carlos says, a soft smile on his face, the smile lines around his eyes making you swoon. Oh, this man.

“Well. . .” you begin, diving into your family and their various antics and personalities. They were a handful.

This time, you decided, that it didn’t matter if you didn’t know how things would play out. You were going to try your best not to let yourself overthink and live in the moment. That was going to be difficult, you knew, but somehow, the way Carlos made you feel helped you realize that, no matter what, it would all work out just fine.

You didn’t know how it would end, but the journey might be worth whatever the ending actually was.

After all, you know you have an overactive imagination, leading to self-sabotage at the purest and best things in the world.

This kind of connection with Carlos happened once every few lifetimes. Who were you to deny the universe the connection it wanted?

#claudia writes #carlos alcaraz #carlos alcaraz x reader #tennis fic #carlos alcaraz fic #op: 2024 #carlos alcaraz imagine

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jjkilll · 14 hours

Text

------✩ HMHAS | I. LUNCH | JJK ✩------

summary ✩ Jungkook realizes he has a crush on you. One small problem, you're his sister's best friend who she has made clear is off limits.

pairing ✩ artist+ bestfriend's brother jungkook x breakout actress y/n

genre ✩ romance, smut and angst

rating ✩ 18+

word count ✩ 3.5K

warnings ✩ age gap (5 years; Jungkook is 26 and Y/n is 21 turning 22 Jungkook's birthday is late for American schooling making him 18 turning 19 leaving HS), smut, soft dom-Jungkook, oral sex m/f receiving, degradation, name-calling, They're both super possessive of each other, etc…

✩-------------------------✩

2:47 pm

"Jungkook, Y/n is coming over will you straighten up the house before she gets there? She'll be there before I get home." Jungkook listens as his younger sister and roommate explain. "Y/n? I haven't heard about her in forever."

"Yeah, I know! She moved away for school and work, but she's back in town visiting family for a month. So please make sure the house looks good."

"Will do," he replies before hanging up. You haven't seen Jungkook since you and Jangmi's high school graduation. You and Jangmi have grown up together and you two were inseparable. Jungkook always found you adorable, your braces and round cheeks made him think you were as cute as a doll. He couldn't even lie and say he wasn't excited to catch up with you. Your brother Stephen and Jungkook were excellent friends and seeing you reminded him of his good friend. Your families were close and it had been a while, now as adults you could drink and talk shit about your family drama which everyone probably overindulges in.

Jungkook cleaned the shared house and took the best liquor out of the cabinet and the nice crystal his mother bought for him on his 19th birthday. Suddenly he hears a knock at the door. He quickly runs to the door and opens it.

There you stand. No braces but still with the cutest cheeks in the world. Your hair short and brown shined against the sun. You were not the little girl he remembers, you were...hot. "Jungkook!" you exclaim hugging him quickly. "Wow, Y/n you look..."

"I know the plane ride was a little rocky, my hair is kinda a mess. I forgot how humid it is here," you explain brushing through your hair with your hands. Jungkook stood there in awe, his arms still out from the hug. "You look great, is what I was trying to say." he finishes.

"Don't flatter me just let me in, it's hot," you say pointing behind him. "Oh right, sorry" he apologies letting you by.

you kick off your shoes and say "So... do I get a house tour? It's so crazy that we're homeowners now." you say reminiscing. "Yeah sure, although Jangmi will for sure be upset so just act surprised when she wants to show you around." You giggle at his idea and follow behind as you two meet in the corridor. "Don't worry Kook, I can keep a secret." He smiles and asks, "Would you like a drink?" you nod and he pours whiskey into two glasses. He hands you one and you clink them together. "cheers." you say softly.

Your voice sounds like honey to him, smooth, sweet, and soft. He wondered if you'd taste the same. He quickly shook the crazy thought out of his head, he had never thought of you that way and couldn't quite understand why he'd felt that way to begin. You stop at the first door in the hall. "This is my studio and office. It's the best room in the house in my opinion." Jungkook was an artist, and his paintings were gaining popularity in the art world pretty quickly. Everyone seemingly loved his art and so did you. "Can I go in?" you ask starstruck by the art. He nods still standing in the doorway as you walk in. "Kook, these are amazing. I love every single one seriously, you're talented." He shakes his head putting it down shyly. "and you're still so humble. I don't get you." You joke. He smiles, "Thanks Y/n, it means a lot coming from you, really."

"I wish I did though... get you, maybe I'd understand your art more. Get inside your head a little." You say really scanning each canvas not necessarily paying him any attention and taking a small sip from the alcohol. The way you spoke made his body tingle. The sultriness of your voice was music to his ears. "Can I buy one?" You turn around asking him. "You don't have to pay, let it be a gift," he says rubbing his neck. "Hell no! If everyone else has to pay then so do I. And this deserved payment." You point to an abstract piece that no one but your families would be able to recognize. "You painted my our backyards," You pointed out.

You and Jangmi became friends after having to line up according to birthday in 1st grade. So every year until you were both 18 you had a joint birthday party. With your family's gates opening up to each other you basically have a big baseball field-sized birthday party filled with all of your family and friends. It's something you missed after moving away for school.

"Now seriously it'd be an honor if you took it, you're actually the first person to guess it right on the first try and not turn your head to the side and say 'ohhhhh'. You definitely deserve it more." He laughs. "Well, I appreciate it, Kook. It reminds me of how much fun we had as kids." You say giggling along with him, taking another sip from the cup.

"It actually reminds me, I can tell you now so it's not weird and we're grown up but I used to have the most intense crush on you. You took Audriana Cooper to prom your senior year. You were 18 turning 19 and I was 13 getting ready to turn 14 two days later, and I sobbed in the back of my parents' car after watching you make out with her. I did my makeup and everything, hoping you'd notice me it's kinda sad if you think too hard so just... don't" You laugh and he giggles with you.

In that moment you remember how cute you thought he was back then. You'd think about him more than you expressed to Jangmi, but you'd love it when he'd hug you a little tighter so you could smell him. You had always been so drawn to him until the prom incident. Your mom explained to you that you and Jungkook would never work since Jungkook was about to graduate high school whilst you still had three years to finish. Soon after your little crush dissipated, and Jungkook was just your best friend's hot older brother and not SpiderMan or something.

"I don't really know what to say, I can say I was kinda the guy to fool around," he says embarrassed at the memory. "I can't blame you, if anybody looked as hot as you did at 19, I'm sure they'd do the same." You sip your drink once again.

"Are you saying I look old now? I'm only 26." he jokes with you. "No! No! I didn't mean it like that, I mean I still think you're hot." You say before quickly trying to correct yourself. "I just mean like you're attractive... not like in a weird way like I'm super attracted to you, I mean like I'm not saying that I do not find you attractive, I'm just saying- " You stop to take a breath realizing you were rambling on. "You know what maybe day drinking isn't my thing. I say weird things... I'm learning." you sat the cup down on his desk. You close your eyes trying to not be so embarrassed by your randomness.

"Maybe- maybe we should go to the next room?" You question looking at him. "Not like that. I mean you should show me the next room with us both standing outside of it." Jungkook looks at you and laughs. You embarrassed and watched him and joined in after realizing he wasn't upset by your awkwardness. "Someone's a lightweight, huh? Didn't do much drinking in college I guess." you laugh. You shake your head.

"Well if it makes things less weird. When I opened the door I was stunned. Your beautiful Y/n." You blush but turn your head to the window not to look at him, hoping he wouldn't notice. "Come on, I'll show you the next room over." You follow behind him. "This is Jangmi's room, we kinda have our own floors, her office is on my floor." He explains. "We found that working like this is better for us."

"I bet you're so proud of Jangmi. She's found success quickly." You mention Jangmi was a fashion designer, he has recently found herself being the creator director for Prada. She was truly talented. You were beyond happy for her too. She deserves it all.

"I am. Jangmi is still my annoying little sister, but just successful." you laugh. "I'm sorry," you say looking at him with a sad expression. "For what?" he asked confused. "I missed you so much, Stephen always calls to tell me the good things that happened here. It makes me wish I never moved away."

"I mean but look at you, little miss actress. Not even little you have an Emmy. Talk about stardom." Jungkook says bringing up your most recent accomplishment.

You didn't like to talk about your career, acting was fun and the greatest thing to ever come into your life, but it's definitely made you a different person. You went from being a little shy girl to a movie star. "Stop..." You blush looking away from him again. It reminded him you're still the same. Still so cute.

"Don't ever feel bad for chasing your dreams, Y/n. Stephen, Jangmi, and I... we've all chosen different paths. Don't feel bad for choosing yours."

You would be lying if you said Jungkook didn't lift a little weight off your shoulders. Moving to LA was a huge deal and when you first moved you regretted it and often spent nights wondering what was right for you. But, he's right, you chose and thankfully you chose right.

"Plus we're all still here. Look..." he says motioning to himself. "I'm me and you're you. We're still the same." He smiles holding his hand out for a hug. You slowly walk into his arms and you hugs you tightly. "I'm serious, you're great." He kisses the top of your head. "Thanks, Kook"

"What the hell?!" You heard Jangmi scream from down the hall. "Move idiot, you will not hog my bestie!" She runs up pushing Jungkook out of the way. "Jangmi!" You squeal. You lock arms with her going with her to finish the house tour. You turn and nod to Jungkook as a small thank you. He nods back with a small smile on his face. Jesus, he's still so cute.

✩-------------------------✩

8:09 pm

"I could eat her for lunch seriously. She's hot like sexy." Jungkook explains to Namjoon, "Hot like sexy?" he repeats, "Dude she'll never fuck you if you talk like that." He rolls his eyes, punching Namjoon in the shoulder. "Ow, I'm serious. Wait, didn't Jangmi say she was off limits?" He sighs being reminded of the warning from his younger sister. "She'll never have to know." Joon chuckles at his answer. "Hyung, don't laugh this is serious. I don't know what to do."

"Don't date your sister's best friend. That seems like the safest option. If Jangmi finds out, she'll put your head on a stick. I mean, who says Y/n wants to have sex with you anyway?" he asks. "she told me she had a crush on me in high school. I don't just want to have sex with her either. I mean she's a sweet girl. I'd love to take her out somewhere. Get to know her some, she's not the girl I remember."

"But she's into you now?" Joon asks curiously. "I think, you had to see the way she looked at me. It was like hungry like she could eat me alive." Joon shakes his head. "Look all I'm gonna say is this, be careful, and make sure you really want her and you're not lusting over her. you could fuck up years worth of friendship." Jungkook finally realized what was at stake here. It's not just you and his relationship. It's you and Jangmi, him and Stephen, and your parents. He had to be right about this and didn't want to hurt you. You were still someone he cared deeply about. He knew how much you mean to Jangmi too. He didn't want to hurt her either.

✩-------------------------✩

10:46 pm

When Jungkook got back home he found you on the couch with a wine glass in your hand and a satin pink pajama set on. "Oh hey! You're back," you say catching yourself sounding more excited than you should be. "Yeah! Where's Jangmi?" he asks. "She's gotta get up early so she went to bed." you motion to her room. "Want some wine?" You ask him. "Absolutely. What are you watching?" He flops down beside you and you hand him a glass half filled with white wine. "It's called Mr. and Mrs. Smith, it's a new series based on the movie." He hums focusing in on the show. "fuck!" you groan rubbing your neck. "Could you massage my neck and shoulders? Those plane seats seriously suck and an old man fell asleep on my shoulder and I was too nice to move." He laughs nodding and setting his glass on the coffee table. You turn so your back faces him now. He starts rubbing your shoulders and you sigh. "holy shit your hands are magic." you laugh softly.

you're soft, and you smell like flowers and it's getting harder for Jungkook to contain himself. Your wavy hair falls right at your shoulders and is the most beautiful he's ever seen. "Jungkook?" you say lightly. He notices you hesitate before speaking. "What's new in you're life? You know, outside of being an artist. What do you like?" He hums, still rubbing at your shoulders. "Well, I've been working on some music. Nothing serious, like not anything I think is worth releasing." He explains to you. "I would want to hear if you're willing to share. No pressure," you say melting into him. "Absolutely. You have plans tomorrow?" He asks. You shake your head, "Family dinner later in the day but I'm free," you tell him. He hums and the noise of the TV takes over. You focus on his movement. His hands are big and he feels strong and... safe. Something you haven't felt in a while. He feels right.

"So." You say breaking the short silence. He hums acknowledging you. You stay silent for a while nervous the say what you're thinking. He peeks at you from the side. "I hope it's not weird if I ask but..." you trail off.

"Are you seeing someone?" you finally blurt. he chuckles dryly a little shocked by your question.

"I am not. Why'd you ask?" Still rubbing your shoulders gently but firm enough. "I don't know. I was just curious I guess," You lie. You clear your throat and Jungkook stops, and his hand runs down your arm, "Turn around." He says sternly, only seriousness found in his tone. You turn to face him. Your eyes lock for a moment and his eyes grow a little darker "Tell me the truth Y/n." He says. You hesitate looking him in the eyes a little longer before leaning in closely to say,

"I wanted to know before I did this" You kiss him softly. His hand cups your face, pulling you in closer to him. You climb into his lap and slip your tongue into his mouth. He moans into the kiss. He pulls back quickly to look at you. "Jangmi is gonna be pissed," he whispers as you're still a few inches from his face. "I told you, Kook, I can keep a secret." He grips your hips and pulls you closer in. "Fuck, you are so hot," he says before kissing you once more. You feel a tent growing in his pants. You grind against him and he moans into the kiss once more. You nibble on his lip as you pull away. You unbutton his jeans and slip your hand in, you stroke his hard-clothed cock. "Fuuuckk" he groans lowly. "You aren't as innocent as I remember," he says watching your every move. You climb off of him and kneel in front of him. You pull his pants down to his ankles and rub your hand across him. "Can I suck you off?" you ask. He nods, "I need you to say something."

"Yes please." He says quickly. You smile pulling his cock out of his boxers. You stoke him twice before licking his tip, then fully putting it in your mouth. You look up at him before fitting all of him in your mouth. His mouth falls open and you never take your eyes off of him. "Cum in my mouth," you say after sucking on his tip once more. You suck him more stroking him too. "I'm gonna-" you hum as he empties his load in your mouth. you open your mouth to show him his mess before swallowing. You flash him a smile before standing up. You get ready to go to the bathroom before he says "Go upstairs to my room." he says hungrily. you walk up the stairs and he quickly fixes his clothes before following behind.

You're sitting on his bed as he walks in and closes the door. "take off your shorts...panties too." you obey and kick them to the side. he kissed you, you fell backward on the bed and you felt so small under him. He kisses your neck and unbuttons your top. Kissing your tits and down your stomach. He kisses the inside of your thighs and stops every time he gets closer to your cunt. "Jungkook," you moan getting needier by the second. "Please" you beg. Before you can even get your words out, he licks a long stripe up your cunt. Sucking your clit driving you crazy. you moan breathily as you watch him eat you like he's a starving man. your eyes on his and swirls his tongue around your clit. he's so messy, his sheets were an afterthought. The only thing on his mind was making you come all over his tongue. "you taste like heaven." He says before slowly putting his index and middle finger in your cunt. "Fuck, Jungkook please." He curls his fingers hitting the spot to make you see stars. You almost moan loudly but with his other hand he tells you "Suck."

He loved seeing you like this, you were now like a drug to him. He knew he had to have more. Your body drove him insane. Your hips and how perfect your tits looked in your bra.

You obey and wrap your lips around his fingers. "Shhh, doll you don't want us to get caught, do you?" He shushed and truly the rush of getting caught turned you on more. He quickens the pace of his finger his head returning back in between your thighs. Sucking on your clit as he fucks you with his fingers.

you were a moaning mess and he felt good. He felt SO good. You'd do anything for him to make you cum. "Please can I come?" you moan quickly begging him for release. "You're such an obedient girl. Such good manners..." he trails off watching you squirm under him. "Cum for me." He curls his fingers hitting your perfect spot once again and you cum all over his fingers. You see stars and grip his arm tightly and he rubs slow circles on your clit as you come.

He flops down beside you, and you both lay there as your breath slows.

"i think-"

"Maybe we-"

you both speak at the same time. "You first," you say with a small giggle. He smiles looking over at you before he speaks. "I was thinking, maybe we could go out? I feel like we skipped a few steps." He says looking up at the ceiling. "We'll go when Jangmi, leaves for work." You respond. You roll over straddling him. "I know that Jangmi told you to stay away from me... But seeing you again brought me back." His hands draw circles on your lower back. "I want you Jungkook. I have for a long time." He smiles. "I want you too, Y/n." He kisses you deeply.

"Good." you stand after breaking the kiss, his hands lingering as you stand before him. You walk to his connecting bathroom and stop in the doorway. "Can I ask you something?" you say tilting your head to the side. He nods to you, "How did you know I was lying? On the couch, you told me to tell you the truth. How'd you know?" He smiled.

"You've had the same tell since we were kids, but I'm not telling. If I do I'll never know if you're lying to me." You smile at him and roll your eyes. "Whatever, Jungkook. Are you gonna join me in the shower or are you just gonna lay there?" you tease. He hops up quickly, "Right behind you baby." He says stripping himself of the rest of his clothing.

This might just be the start of his new craving. And you've got him wrapped around your finger.

✩-------------------------✩

a/n: AHHHHHH!!! hi I'm in love with Billie's new album and Jungkook, so i thought I'd make this lil series :)))

until next week my dolls.

#bts jungkook #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bangtan #jungkook #jungkook fanart #jeon jungkook

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writteninlunarlight-years · 11 hours

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~~~~ HEADCANONS ~~~~

This is a lovely commission from a moon of mine. They wish to be anonymous, but I do have a brief description of the headcanons. Hazbin character finds out their friend is self-harming and how they would help them. Id like this one with Charlie, Angel Dust, and Sir Pentious Platonic Charlie, Angel Dust, & Sir Pentious x Reader

TW: SELF-HARM MENTIONED, COPING SKILLS (not all skills will work for everyone), ANGST/FLUFF

Charlie:

When the news was broken to Charlie that you had harmed yourself, she was the saddest she had ever been.

She tried hard to be as strong as she could for you, and she stood by your side.

She did all sorts of tasks until you were ready to start taking on things again.

She would try to get you to talk about why or what happened, but she quickly learned to just let you be.

She showered you in rainbows, glitter, and platonic love to show you she cared so much about you.

Whenever you opened up to her the first time, instead of harming yourself, she was ecstatic that you trusted her, and she hugged you for hours.

She will 100% cry with you and be there through the ups and downs

She learns about these places called rage rooms, and she makes it a deal with you that once a month, you two will go

Once all the damage and anger is out during your friend sessions, she will take you to your favorite food place and just talk with you about anything

She sends you daily texts asking you how you are and making sure that you are well

She does it at random times of the day, too, so you don't think she is doing it out of routine but because she cares.

Angel Dust:

Angel Dust understood the need to harm yourself to let the pain out all too well, but to see his best friend like that was painful.

He cleaned you up nicely and took you to a dive bar to discuss some things.

He is the most meticulous person out of everyone just because he gets it and knows how to get through it.

He bargains with you that he will cut down on drugs and booze if you get a therapist and do healing activities with him.

You two sign up for all sorts of activities around Pentagram City to take your mind off the bad.

You guys did photoshoots, dress-ups, safe parties, artwork, music, and anything to help make your mind travel elsewhere.

Over time, he would do nightly check-ins and make sure that you had no other tools or abilities to hurt yourself again.

Once you were clean for a while, he threw you a big party, disguising it as a half-birthday party or something wild, so only you two really knew the meaning of it.

If you ever relapse he is gentle and kind with you, starting the process entirely back over.

He never gets mad or puts you down if you have a relapse or bad day. He is understanding and helps you find your grove again.

He has no care in the world if you need to interrupt his shoots, and he will leave to take care of you.

If you get worried that Val will hurt him, Angel just tells you it's going to be okay and that you matter more to the world than a few extra shots that Val will assign.

Sir Pentious:

Pentious is the most anxious snake in the world. He is terrified when he hears the news because he thinks he is being a bad friend.

When you inform him why you did what you did, he is just as anxious, but he is anxious because he wants to prevent it from ever happening again.

He has the Egg Bois stay with you when he has to go and do something so you won't be alone.

He does extensive research on how to help with depression, anxiety, and self-harm. He even learns a trick or two for himself.

Once he is confident that he can help you and get you the help you need, he will relieve the Egg Bois of their duty.

He talks to you about literally every option for treatment and assistance.

He helps you decide to stay in a private hospital for the time being.

He visits every visitation, laughs, and talks with you in the communal spaces.

He is there to help you reintroduce yourself to daily life when you get discharged.

He practically moves in with you at one point, sleeping on your couch.

After a couple of months, he feels safe leaving you alone but makes sure his number is on speed dial.

He takes you to all your checkups and therapy appointments that you get scheduled.

He is texting you on the dot if you get prescribed medicine when you need to take it.

He reminds you every day how important you are to the world and that you are his and the Egg Bois best friend.

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gg-neptune · 3 days

Text

Stray Cat

Bit of Snape fluff. Snape x Reader. Hope you enjoyyyyyy <333 (Sorry if grammar errors)

Getting Severus to cuddle is like petting a stray cat at first. However, once you get him to, he will NEVER stop.

Getting past his hard shell was difficult. Months of coaxing him into you. Teaching him, you can be trusted. That he does not have to be scared to show his emotions to you and be vulnerable. You will not criticize him; you'll treat his heart with care.

It starts with not poisoning him. This might sound like an exaggeration but when you bring him a batch of cookies you made just for him you realize just how thick his wall is built up.

He makes you stay in office while he casts a spell that determines if the cookies are poisoned or not. Realizing you are not trying to kill him and indeed just wanted to do something nice for him he stiffens and says a very strangled "thanks" before he ushers you out of his office not giving you the chance to say a word.

For a while you think he might be mad at you for some reason you don't know. Maybe he doesn't like chocolate chip? That was until he passively comments on how good your baking is when you are in the staff room talking to Minerva.

Then when he finally warms up to baked goods you have to get him accustomed to your presence in general. He is a very lonely man. He is used to spending majority of his time alone, he's used to the longing of wishing someone was here to keep him company. Now that someone is here, he doesn't know what to do with himself honestly.

Eventually he gets used to your presence. He gets used to the signs of you left around his office. The hair ties, the blankets (because it's freezing in the dungeons), your jacket you forgot last night, everything that is you that just about a year ago he would have disdained he accepts.

Slowly after spending so much time with him just lingering in his office watching him work observing him, you get touchier with him.

You must be slow with him or like a stray cat he's going to get scared and run off. Just brushing against him at first. When you lean over him to look at his work putting your hand a bit too close to his. Looking at his potions and subtly holding your shoulder against his.

It all starts there. Soon enough you're walking into his office with your arms open waiting for your Severus Snape hug for the day. Holding onto him for longer than nessacery. Breathing in his scent that you've grown to associate with the calmness of him. Resting your head on his chest while his rests on your head, him burying his face into your hair.

Pulling him away from his work at ungodly hours. Pulling him onto the little couch in the corner of his office, that has recently been reserved only for you. Gently coaxing him into your arms. Whispering to him to relax and to trust you. After all these months of breaking down the thick wall of emotional protection he had put up, he lets you hold him. Hid head resting on your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist, his shoulders slowly relax.

Your fingers run through his hair gently massaging his scalp. Your other hand running up and down his back.

"Why do you treat me like this?"

"Like what Severus?"

"Like I deserve this much affection."

"You do Severus."

After that night Severus seeks you out. He seeks your gentle affection. He cannot stand to go a single day without seeing you. He needs the gentleness of you. His heart has longed for a person for all of his life. Recently his heart has longed for you. Now that he had you he needed you.

He loves the way you hold him. The way you help him relax. The way you don't belittle him for wanting the simple affection that everyone deserves. He had never received it before he could never imagine that a singular living soul would want to be with him. That anyone would want to hold him like that.

But you do. And to him nothing else matters.

#pro snape #severus snape #pro severus #pro severus snape #professor snape #snape #snape fandom #snape fluff #snape x reader #snape x reader fluff #snape cute #severus snape headcanons #overprotective snape #snapedom

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1americanconservative · 2 days

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1. Two times a week we go to a nice restaurant, have a little beverage, good food and companionship. She goes on Tuesdays, I go on Fridays.

2. We also sleep in separate beds. Hers is in California and mine is in Texas.

3. I take my wife everywhere, but she keeps finding her way back.

4. I asked my wife where she wanted to go for our anniversary. "Somewhere I haven't been in a long time!" she said. So I suggested the kitchen.

5. We always hold hands. If I let go, she shops.

6. She has an electric blender, electric toaster and electric bread maker. She said "There are too many gadgets, and no place to sit down!" So I bought her an electric chair.

7. My wife told me the car wasn't running well because there was water in the carburetor. I asked where the car was. She told me, "In the lake."

8. She got a mud pack and looked great for two days. Then the mud fell off.

9. She ran after the garbage truck, yelling, "Am I too late for the garbage?" The driver said, "No, jump in!".

10. Remember: Marriage is the number one cause of divorce.

11. I married Miss Right. I just didn't know her first name was 'Always'.

12. I haven't spoken to my wife in 18 months. I don't like to interrupt her.

13. The last fight was my fault though. My wife asked, "What's on the TV?"

I said, "Dust!".

Can't you just hear him say all of these?

I love it. These were the good old days when humor didn't have to start with a four letter word or political. It was just clean and simple fun. And he always ended his programs with the words, "And May God Bless" with a big smile on his face.

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fantasy-relax · 3 days

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Punishment (NSFW)

Re.Lover Donna Beneviento x Mc (AMAB Reader)

The day started out normal, with some customers acting like decent people and others who believed they should be treated like royalty because of these particular ones you'd rather work the counter than let your sweet girlfriend deal with them.

These three months had been perfect, the headmistress hadn´t returned to the store, Angie was more than happy with your relationship and Cassandra had finally stopped flirting with you.

Everything was so perfect that you had forgotten Donna's biggest flaw, so to speak.

Her tremendous jealousy and possessiveness.

Which at this precise moment were evident in the intense glare that the woman was directing at you while you were talking with a classmate, which you were unaware of since your attention was elsewhere.

-“Thank you so much, your notes saved my life” -The girl rubbed your arm gently while she smiled at you. - What can I do to pay you?

Stop touching me would be a good way.

Leaving her grasp subtly and maintaining a safe distance, you respond trying your best to sound cordial – “You don't need to pay me, is fine don’t worry.”

The girl pouted and made such cute puppy dog eyes that your gay ass couldn't help but blush a little.

- “Come on, I passed the semester because of you, ask me whatever you want” - She look at you from top to bottom which gave you some amusement since you were wearing an smock that wasn´t attractive in your opinion - “Besides, I'm sure that a break from work won't be bad for you”

You didn't think much before answering. - “You're right about that, it has been a hectic few days”- A few days ago there was a wedding in which a large order was placed in the shop, Angie even came to help, a day of rest with your girlfriend didn't sound bad.

-“Then-”

-“Excuse me, if you're not going to buy something, please leave” -Donna had gotten between the two of you, using her body as a barrier against the girl's gaze. You couldn't see your girlfriend's expression, but from the look on your classmate's face it was obvious that its wasn't a nice one.

- “I'm leaving, sorry for the inconvenience” - Before walking through the door she turned to give you a wink - “See you in class, MC”

- “See you later” – Like the idiot that you are, you responded automatically.

- “MC” - You swallowed as you heard her speak in an unhappy tone without turning to look at you. – “You can prepare the bouquet of marigolds; I will attend the counter while you finish”

You didn't think twice before fleeing towards the nursery.

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

You were done in minutes and headed to the counter, hoping your girlfriend was in a better mood.

But when you arrived you didn't see anyone, before you could search for her an old woman entered the store, leaving the arrangement on the table you stood at the counter. While the woman was looking at the pots around her, you felt a hand touching your thigh, looking down you met the mischievous gaze of Donna who was kneeling under the counter without her smock or gloves.

- “Donna, what are you doing there?” - You whispered with your face red because that look never meant anything good for your heart.

- “You need a break, don't you? I'll help you relax” - Before you could process what was happening, she had moved your apron and lowered your zipper - “Keep your eyes forward, or do you want us to be discovered?” – You looked ahead while you felt how she took out your member from his boxers. – “Poor thing, have I neglected you so much?” – The eldest commented because the traitor of your little friend was more than ready to go with just being touched. – “Let me remedy it”-

Closing your eyes you bit your lip to contain your moan as you felt Donna lick the tip while she rubbed the base gently, the black-haired woman alternates between licking and sucking without stopping her hand.

- “I'll take these, please” - You opened your eyes violently, making the old woman look at you curiously. - "Are you okay? You are very red, young lady.”

“I *Cough*” You coughed to control your voice. - “I'm fine ma'am, it's just the heat.”-You wrapped the flowers quickly, staying close to the counter – “It would be ten dollars.”

The woman paid you with a bill and you almost threw away the change when your girlfriend moved your foreskin back to put the head completely in her mouth.

- “Thank you young lady, be careful with the heat”-

Being alone again you looked at your girlfriend ready to scold her, but the words died in your mouth when she engulfed your penis completely, moving her head slowly while her tongue touched all your sensitive parts.

The bell rang and a man entered.

-“Excuse me, you have red flowers”-

You swallowed before answering- “H-to-his right”- Your voice was shaking you were so close.

The man turned around observing the flowers that you mentioned.

You gripped the counter firmly and your hips moved slowly, you were so close.

But Donna stopped, taking you out of her mouth and squeezing the base with one hand and your testicles with the other, stopping your orgasm.

- “Donna”-You pleaded with a whisper, but the cruel woman only smiled at you as she moved her hand to squeeze the tip tightly.

-“Don’t you have Lilies?” – The man spoke while you took a deep breath to control yourself.

. “Lilies? - Yes, they had, but they were in the nursery, Donna seemed to remember it too because in a matter of a seconds your girlfriend's skillful hands put your erection back in your boxers and adjusted your pants.

You didn't want to move, but the quicker you attended him the quicker you could reach your climax, ensuring the apron covered the bulge in your pants you headed to the Nursery.

The man was slow to decide, forcing you to explain the meaning of each flower and their basic care to him with the blood accumulated in an annoying area.

When you finished, you walked back to the counter, directing a pleading look at your girlfriend who moved your apron to just touch you over your pants.

- “Maybe we should stop” - Your mind agreed, but your libido screamed otherwise, with one hand you lowered your zipper, you sighed as you pull out your dick, you stroked yourself for a few moments before a hand stopped you.

-“Hands on the table and look ahead, Tesoro” - You did what she asked, trembling with need as you felt her tongue go from the base to the tip while she caressed your testicles.

The bell rang and your suffering continued.

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

-“Fif-ty, sixty, ugh ni-nety”-

It was time to close and you were trying to concentrate on counting the day's profit while your sadistic girlfriend kept you deep in her throat, you could feel the hot air coming out of her nose, her tongue caressing the head, the slight vibration of her moans suppressed by the cock in her mouth and if you turned to look at her you could notice the tears that covered her eyelashes.

The cruel woman had denied you an orgasm for hours by keeping you standing while she spent her time alternating between small licks and kisses to quick sucks and rubs, biting you gently when you tried to take your pleasure in your hands.

She was going to kill you.

-“Two hundred and thirty, that's all!” – You looked at the black-haired woman who looked back at you through half-lidded eyes. - "Please"-

The devilish woman finally took pity on you, with both hands resting on your thighs she raised her head quickly, sucking the tip on the way up and licking it on the way down; You grabbed her hair with one hand as you moved your hips in rhythm with her movements.

-“Donna!”-With your hand in her hair, the black-haired woman remained still while you finished inside her throat she took all without spilling a drop.

You let go of her and fully leaned against the counter, whining softly as you felt her slowly lick your dick before putting it back into your boxers and adjusting your clothes. With a light push she moved your weak body to get out from under the counter.

-“Ouch, my legs are killing me”- The black-haired woman stretched and then rubbed her knees.- “I'm going to prepare everything to close, rest for a while Dolcezza”

A kiss on your head and a soft touch on your back.

-“I'm not done with you yet”-

This woman wanted to kill you...

And what a way to die.

#resident lover #donna beneviento #my work

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