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chestharrington · 7 months

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Girls On Film || Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve's absentee parents gift him a camcorder for graduation. What better way to find out how it works than making a sex tape?

Couple: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Content Warnings: explicit smut (f!receiving oral, handjob, p in v sex ft. girl on top), sex on camera, filming a sex tape, lovey-dovey adorable dorks in love

Word Count: 3.7k

Your heart soared with pride as Steve walked off the football field towards you, wearing a goofy-looking gown and graduation cap. As soon as he reached you, he lifted you up and gave you a tiny spin, smiling ear to ear.

“You’re looking at a college grad,” he said with a smug smile after he put you down. You beamed at him as he lifted his hand and showed off the shiny gold class ring. “I’m never taking this thing off.”

You grinned, tugging at the graduation gown. “What about this thing? You willing to take this off for me?” You smiled wryly and pressed a kiss on his cheek.

A throat cleared behind you both and you turned, looking at the party and Robin standing with various levels of disgust evident on their faces.

Robin wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Keep it in your pants, please. Or, I guess keep it in your large, nylon zippy robe.” She squeezed between you and kissed Steve on the cheek. “I’m so proud of you, Steve.”

Dustin stepped forward next and gave Steve a big hug— he’d hit a growth spurt since you last saw him and was nearly as tall as Steve. Lucas, Will, and Mike all offered their congratulations combined with complaints about how boring the ceremony was after they got through the H last names.

Max crossed her arms as El wheeled her over, trying her best to be nonchalant. “I can’t see you, but I know you look dumb in that stupid hat.” Steve gave a fake laugh, took the hat from his head, and placed it on hers. “Ew, it’s all sweaty, you jerk.” She smiled despite herself and held the hat against her chest.

Steve wrinkled his nose in a way that told you he was trying his best not to cry. You knew it meant a lot to him that they’d shown up.

“Why don’t we all go for lunch?” You suggested. “My treat.” Not wanting the reunion to end, and not wanting to turn down a free lunch, everyone piled into their cars and headed to Steve’s favorite place.

When you and Steve got into his car, you were greeted by the shrill sound of his car phone ringing. With a furrowed brow, he reached over and retrieved the bulky device from its bag and answered. Even from across the car, you could hear the tinny noise of his mother speaking on the phone.

“Yeah, the ceremony is over,” he said, jaw ticking. “I sent you both the invitation two months ago.” He looked over with an exasperated look, so you grabbed his hand to give a comforting squeeze. “Well, we’re all going to lunch if you can make it.”

You frowned, but didn’t say anything. Despite their apparent lack of care, you knew that he valued their approval and time.

“Oh. Right, I understand.” He sighed deeply. “Well, I appreciate it. Okay. Okay, bye.”

He hung up and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “They, uh, they got double booked. They’re in Buffalo for a conference right now.”

Your gaze softened at the sight of his disappointed expression. “I know they��re proud of you, Steve.” He nodded, but didn’t look entirely convinced. You pulled the hand intertwined with yours up and placed a soft kiss on his knuckles.

————

When you arrived at your shared condo, you were greeted by a gift-wrapped box on the porch. You had to help him carry it in through the door, huffing as you both dropped it onto your coffee table.

Steve shrugged off the graduation gown he was wearing and kneeled to unwrap the present. A large card taped to the top revealed the senders, as if that were in question.

“To our firstborn son— congratulations! Love, Mr and Mrs Harrington.” The emotionless text almost made you grimace. You’d never read something more blatantly written by a personal assistant in your life.

“Jesus,” he muttered as he tore away the wrapping to reveal the gift. “This thing must’ve cost a fortune.” You glanced over as he held up a plastic case and found nothing that might have revealed its contents.

“What is it?” You asked, kneeling down beside him and leaning in close. He popped open the case and held up a hulking piece of machinery.

“It’s a camcorder,” he said with a grin. “It’s the best one on the market.”

You raised your eyebrows and tried not to ask what he even needed one of those for. Video cameras were for new parents and aspiring filmmakers, not college grads.

Your own gift felt tiny in comparison, even though you’d been saving for a few months to afford it. Between rent for you and Steve’s condo, groceries, and gas for your cars, it wasn’t easy to have expendable cash to buy nice gifts with.

You stayed quiet as Steve marveled at the fancy gift, holding it up to his face like he was testing how it looked through the viewfinder.

“Gorgeous,” he said, peeking out at you. “I think I found my muse.” You scoffed and covered the camera with your hand even though it wasn’t charged.

“Plug it in and we’ll see how it works later,” you said. “For now… I have a gift for you.”

He sat up, wearing a grin. “Is it lingerie? Is it dinner at The Olive Garden? Is it a bubble bath?” He leaned in and nipped at your jaw teasingly. “C’mon, tell me—“

You giggled as he pinned you down on the rug, peppering kisses on your cheeks. “Steveeee,” you groaned. He finally stopped, hovering over you. “You’re such a spoiled brat.” That made him grin even more. He pecked your lips chastely, then sat back on his knees.

You scrambled to stand up and grinned. “Stay there, alright?” He nodded and you disappeared into your shared bedroom.

Hidden away in your bedside table was a glass trinket box you’d thrifted a few months ago. It was shaped like a heart, with little gold foil embellishments. You couldn’t leave without it. You knew the real gift was inside, but you still hoped that Steve would like the box.

Steve was fiddling with the camera when you stepped back into the living room, trying his best to plug it in to charge. When he saw you, though, he smiled and sat down on the couch, waiting for you to join him.

“It isn’t much,” you insisted as you handed it over. “I hope you like it though.”

He smiled and nudged your cheek with his nose. “Are you joking? This is adorable. I love it. I’m gonna keep all my important stuff in here.”

You smiled and shook your head. “Babe, open it.” He looked sheepish as he lifted the lid, then his expression softened. You watched with a fluttering in your chest as he lifted the chain from the box.

It took months to save up for real gold, and then for the pendants after. Two initials— his and yours. “If you don’t like it, I can take it back and get something you actually w—“

He cut you off with a quick kiss that made your head spin. “It’s perfect. Best gift I’ve ever gotten, hands down. And one year I got Yankees tickets behind the plate for my birthday.” He was quick to put it on, smiling over at you. “How do I look?”

You pecked his cheek. “A million bucks, babe.” He leaned in and gave you a real kiss— deep and intense. You smiled against his lips and melted into his touch. You’d never loved someone the way you loved him.

“Wanna know what’s crazy?” He said after he pulled away. You nodded and he gestured towards the bedroom. “I bought you something too. Stay here.”

You sat patiently as he got up and hurried into the bedroom. You heard scuffling and the sounds of moving drawers until he returned, holding a wooden box.

“Your gift is inside this, by the way,” he teased as he sat back beside you. You watched him with anticipation until he flipped it open and your heart stopped.

“So, uh, I got you jewelry too,” he said softly, or maybe your ears were just ringing.

Inside the box, nestled in the middle of a tiny silk pillow, was a diamond ring.

Like, a diamond ring. The kind you get married with.

“That’s—“

He nodded. “Yeah, it is,” he said, grinning ear to ear. “Will you marry me?”

In lieu of a verbal response, you put the ring on and kissed him like he was your one and only source of oxygen. It felt like it anyway— that if you parted from him even a little you’d cease to exist.

“Yes?” He asked, smiling nervously. “That’s a yes?”

You kissed him again. “It’s a yes, Steve. I wanna marry you.”

———

Steve forgot about the video camera in the excitement of the engagement. Because he had to call Robin’s hotel and let her know, and then she spilled the news to the party, and suddenly it felt like everyone from Hawkins was in the tiny condo.

After hours and hours of catching up and celebrating the day, you and Steve were left alone in a quiet house.

“So… the future Mrs. Steve Harrington…” you turned and rolled your eyes at the sight of Steve holding the video camera that had been charging all night. “Anything you want to say to the camera on the night of our engagement?”

“How do you know I’m not keeping my last name?” You asked as he got closer, putting the lens right in your face. You giggled and ducked out of the way as the lens came close to knocking against your nose. “You’re such a child.”

He grinned. “Alright, give me something to remember this night by. For posterity, baby.”

You smiled wickedly at him before lifting the hem of your shirt, flashing your tits at him and the camera. By the time you lowered your shirt back down, his mouth was ajar. “We are never showing anyone this video now.”

You grinned. “Nuh-uh, baby, this is all for you.” You raised your brows in a challenge and stepped into the bedroom, leaving him to hurry behind you with the clunky machine.

He stood in the doorway, camera focused on you as you slipped off your blouse and skirt. The whirring of machinery inside the camera indicated he was zooming in on your tits. You stifled a laugh at the noise as he zoomed out again, taking in all of you.

“Strip for me,” he directed behind the camera. You gave a wry grin as your thumbs slipped behind the waistband of your panties and dragged them down your legs slowly. “Fuck, you’re so sexy. Gonna put on a show for me?”

You settled on the bed on all fours, back arched as you crawled towards the headboard. Steve groaned at the sight, breath shuddering as you flipped around and spread your legs for him. Without needing instructions, you slipped one hand between your legs and let the other move to your chest, kneading your breast between your fingers.

He moved from the doorway— the magnetic pull of you too much to resist for long. He settled at the end of the bed, the camera so close it made butterflies swell in your tummy. He moved the camera to your hands, one between your legs, teasing your clit and dipping into the pool of arousal at your center, and the other toying with your nipples, the shiny diamond on the engagement ring glinting with each small movement.

“Christ, baby hold the camera—“ he said suddenly, passing it over to you. You laughed as he practically threw it into your hands and you had to scramble to turn it right side up.

You laughed as he tore off his clothes, probably popping some buttons here and there. “Steve, what are you— oh!”

Without hesitation, Steve buried his head between your thighs, moaning at the taste of your juices as he lapped at your pussy. It was a struggle to film him and enjoy the moment, especially since you had to watch him through the viewfinder. But something about capturing something so intimate on film made a thrill run through you.

“Fuck, Steve—“ you moaned, being more vocal than you normally would for the camera. Fuck the neighbors, honestly. It was your engagement night! “Your mouth feels so good, honey.”

His brown eyes peered up at you, at the camera, framed by pretty long lashes. His lips formed a seal around your clit and he sucked lightly, making your legs tremble. Your free hand moved to his hair, tangling in the soft locks as his mouth elicited gasps and moans.

A slick sheen had formed on the tip of his nose, his mouth, and chin from his ministrations. The sight made heat bloom in the pit of your stomach. His eyes fluttered closed as he lost himself in you— relishing in your sounds, your smell, your taste.

A light pat on your thigh was his wordless signal for you to move and accommodate him more. You acquiesced, spreading your legs as much as you were comfortably able to, and he let his fingertips tease at your center.

“Relax for me, baby,” he said, his words vibrating against your clit. He gave the bundle of nerves a light kiss before he looked up at you. “I’ve got you. Just…” He pushed his middle finger into you and you moaned low in your throat, instinctively pushing back against the intrusion. “That’s it. Just like that.”

He was always so gentle with you during foreplay— taking his time to really explore every single spot that he knew made you tick. You shuddered as the pad of his finger pressed against a particularly sensitive spot within you. He knew you like the back of his hand— probably better. He slid a second finger beside the first, coaxing moans and gasps from you as he gave all his attention to your clit and g-spot.

Your thighs trembled as you fought the instinct to close them around his head, the stimulation bordering on too much. The softness of his mouth on you, the press of his fingers against the most sensitive spot inside— making you cum was simply too easy for him. You barely had time to gasp out a breathy “I’m cumming—“ before your orgasm hit you. Your walls gripped his fingers like a vise as he worked you through it, muttering praise against your cunt before he withdrew his fingers completely.

You stared at the ceiling, trying to find your breath. “C’mere. It's your turn,” you said with a grin.

Steve simply shook his head. “Not done.” He moved his mouth back to your cunt, this time without the hungry ferocity. You sighed at the sensation, your legs twitching when the tip of his tongue brushed against your clit. His movements lost purpose with each pass of his tongue until he was practically making out with your pussy.

Your head fell back against the pillows, soft gasps slipping past your lips. Steve moaned against you as you tugged his hair, a furrow forming between his brows. So utterly lost in you that he hadn’t even noticed that he was rutting against the bed for friction.

“C’mere,” you said softly. He pressed a final, wet kiss to your pussy before resting his head on the plush of your thigh. Your stomach flipped as he licked his lips, chasing those last remnants of your taste. He pressed a soft kiss to your belly before crawling up to meet you.

The kiss you shared was hungry and slow. The camera was shoved to the side so you could put your mouth on his— tongues meeting, the tang of your arousal and his spit flooding your senses.

A low moan escaped his lips as your hand snaked between your two bodies, where you took his length into your hand and stroked slowly. His mouth fell open, a small furrow between his brows.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned. You smiled up at him innocently and let your thumb glide across his tip. A full-body shiver overtook him, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. Steve was easy to love all the time, but especially when he was needy. “Switch spots with me.” When you furrowed your brows he nodded towards the camera. “Please?”

When he sat back on his heels, you moved from beneath him and let him settle with his back against the pillows. You were slightly annoyed that he had control of the camera, because goddamn. His thighs were bowed out slightly, cock resting against his stomach. The sight made your heart hammer as you straddled his thighs.

Steve took the camera back into his hands, a wide smile on his face. “Alright, just do what you were doing,” he instructed. “Left hand though.”

You glanced down at your hand and smiled softly. The engagement ring— your engagement ring— glinted up at you. You spit onto your hand and Steve groaned at the sight.

“Haven’t even touched you yet,” you teased.

“Don’t let me stop you.” His voice wavered, revealing just how needy he really was.

He cried out the moment your hand wrapped around his length, head tossed back against the headboard. His cock pulsed in your hand as it glided up and down, aching for more. You leaned down, spitting onto his tip, giving you more slickness to work with.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his chest heaving. You moved your right hand to his balls, kneading them as you focused your attention on the head. “Jesus, look at that fuckin’ rock, huh?”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled wryly. “That’s what you’re thinking about? Not— y’know— the handjob to end all handjobs?” To prove your point, you twisted your hand and let your thumb glide over his slit. He practically whimpered, bucking into your grip.

You redoubled your efforts, relishing in each desperate, whiny noise you were able to elicit. He was getting close— you could feel it in the way he throbbed in your hand, and hear it in the desperate pants and moans passing his lips. Before he could finish, you slowed your pace and let him come back from the edge.

He sat there, arm slung over his eyes, just catching his breath. “Earth to Steve?” You teased, placing a kiss on his tummy. He made a low noise in the back of his throat and took another deep breath.

“Okay, I’m good,” he said, a breathy laugh escaping his lips as he finally lowered his arm and looked at you. “Just needed a minute so I didn’t—“ You giggled as he mimed an explosion, completely unabashed about the effect you had on him.

He grabbed the camera and placed it on the bedside table, doing his best to angle it just right. “Alright… wanna take a ride on the Harrington Express?” He patted his thighs with a smug expression and you groaned in annoyance.

“Steve.”

“Fine. I’ll be so cool. I’ll be totally normal. But just know… you’re marrying a loser.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly as you straddled his thighs. “I wouldn’t have it any other way… most of the time.”

He stared up at you like you hung the moon, all doe eyes and heart-shaped pupils. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, tender and slow, and you hummed contentedly at the feeling.

“I love you,” he murmured against your lips. He moved one of your hands from his shoulder and down to his chest, where his heart thumped steadily. For you.

Your own heart lurched in your chest as a swell of emotions overtook you. “I love you too, Steve.”

You reached between the two of you, taking his cock into your hand so you could position him at your entrance. You breathed slowly through your nose as you sank down— the prep and attention he had given you made the stretch comfortable and bearable, so all you felt was the pleasurable full feeling that he gave you.

Once you were fully seated, you gave an experimental roll of your hips. A moan escaped you at the feeling— as each tiny movement made delicious electricity run along your nerves.

He sat up fully, his chest pressing against yours, holding you firmly against him. “That’s it, baby,” he groaned, cutting himself off to plant wet kisses along your jaw and throat. “Feels so good. Love the way your pussy feels around me.”

He cried out as you began to ride him in earnest, not caring how thin the walls of the condo were. His hands gripped onto your hips and dimpled the plush skin there as he began to meet your thrusts with his own. With each movement, you could feel him getting deeper until you could practically feel him in your guts.

“Steve,” you gasped out, meeting his gaze as he fucked up into you. The sound of his name seemed to spur him on.

“Say it again,” he demanded. “Touch yourself while you do,”

You whimpered at the tone of his voice, snaking a hand between your bodies to toy with your clit. Your limbs felt like jelly as he continued to fuck the life and brains out of you. “St-Steve, fuck, baby,” you cried between the hiccup-y sobs of pleasure that were punched from your lungs.

“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so tight. Not gonna last like this.”

“Don’t,” you managed. “Cum for me. With me.” You leaned in and kissed him in a way that felt like more saliva than lips.

When you pulled back, he nodded, forehead pressed against yours as you both worked each other over the edge. Your vision was spotted with pinpricks of light while he worked you through it, his moans distant in your ears.

You were both panting, nearly tacked together with sweat as you came down. You chuckled lightly as you tilted your head to look at him. “That was one hell of a celebration.” He intertwined your fingers and placed a kiss on your ring finger.

“And we have the rest of our lives to do it again, and again, and again, and ag—“

You shut him up with a kiss. You figure that for the rest of your lives, that’s always going to work.

It does.

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #lazy ghoul’s kinktober

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avis-writeshq · 5 months

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07 — wildest dreams

summary: “he’s so tall, and handsome as hell”/”his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, slow burn warnings: rated 16+ for lots of kissing hehehe, reader wears a dress + makeup, a final ‘eff u!!’ to jeid LOL wc: 3.3k a/n: we have finally reached the end! thank you all so much for your support during this little project 😚💕 massive thank you to @astrophileous for beta-reading this entire project! congratulations again for finishing your thesis!! SERIES MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

Spencer yawns softly as he steps out of bed, running his fingers through his unruly hair. He finally got it cut a few days ago and, even though it’s a lot shorter than what he is used to, he really likes it. After putting on his shirt that has fallen haphazardly to the floor the previous night, he walks into the kitchen to fix himself a cup of tea.

He stirs the sugar with a spoon tiredly, his vision blurry from both the lack of sleep and the lack of glasses. The muscles of his thighs quiver with each step and he grimaces. Maybe he should start working out with Morgan. He dismisses the thought immediately. He still wants to live.

He’s about to go back into the room when a pair of arms wrap tightly around his middle, and he lets out a breathless laugh. “Hey, angel.”

You grunt out a noncommittal greeting, your forehead resting between his shoulderblades as you continue to hug him. “Why’d you go?”

“I was thirsty,” he responds, turning around to hug you back. You’re wearing one of his t-shirts that you stole and he glows with pride, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “What’re you doing up, darling?”

“You left,” you respond groggily, leaning into his touch. “Got cold.”

Spencer, as you have learned, is essentially a human furnace. He exudes so much warmth both figuratively and literally that you have saved probably hundreds of dollars in electricity bills. He is so unbelievably warm and he always gives the best hugs, wrapping his arms around your frame and tracing circles into your skin.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, kissing the side of your face. “Go back to bed, angel. I’ll be there in a second, okay?”

You merely nod in response, reaching up and planting a firm kiss to his chin before padding back into your room, burying yourself under the covers. He arrives soon after, shuffling closer to you and pulling you in so that your nose is against his sternum. His fingers find the knots in your hair, skillfully and carefully untangling them. He feels you yawn as he continues his ministrations, and he presses yet another kiss to your head.

“You should move in,” you mumble against his chest, creeping a hand up under his shirt and brushing your nails against his spine.

He shudders at the contact, a quiet groan leaving his lips. “Yeah? You think I should move in?”

It is within moments like these where it becomes glaringly obvious that Spencer is no longer the naive ‘kid’ he was when he began working at the BAU. He’s grown into himself now, filling out his dress shirts better and wearing an easy smile on his face. Spencer has always been attractive, all of the girls who loved him before are a testament to that (no matter how bitter you are when coming to this realisation), but he’s now a lot more comfortable with it. He likes to say that you are a big part of that journey. You would simply tell him that the growth was his to make.

“You basically already live here,” you tell him. “It’s close to the train station and there’s that good Thai place across the road.”

“I’d love to move in with you,” he says softly, stroking your cheeks. He’s had an affinity for your cheeks since he first met you, poking at them teasingly and you would do the same in retaliation. Now, he can let his touches linger. “Really. I can get the rest of my things here by the end of the week.”

“It’s Wednesday.”

He smiles. “Exactly.”

You yawn again, your eyes squeezing closed so tightly that an unnecessary tear slips past the corner of your eye. Spencer wipes it away with his thumb before kissing your nose, relishing in the way you let out a breathless laugh.

“I love you,” he whispers, his lips brushing against yours.

You beam at him, kissing him softly. “I love you.”

***

“And it’s like, if you don’t want to get yelled at, don’t come late to every single shift that you have, y’know?” You complain from your bedroom, pushing your lashes upwards with the side of your finger. You’re leaning over your new white vanity, forgoing the chair, as you try to keep your lashes up. “I mean, I get that this is her first time doing work experience, but come on she isn’t nine. And get this, babe, she doesn’t even have a phone. She’s seventeen years old doing work experience and she doesn’t have a phone. I have to remind her of her shifts through her mother. Do you know how awkward that is?”

Spencer hums as he does up his tie, coming up from behind you and and glancing at you for a moment. “She doesn’t sound like someone who wants to be doing work experience, angel.”

“I swear she’s only doing this because it’s compulsory at her high school,” you lament, turning around to face him. “And she is so rude. You should have heard what she said to Veronica, Walter, it was insane. Like, she swore in front of a client. In front of a child.”

His nose scrunches up at your words, resting his hands on your waist and stroking up and down with his thumbs, feeling your curves through the pretty dress you picked out. “You should fire her.”

“Legally I cannot,” you say with a huff. “But I’m pretty sure she’s going to quit or something. ‘Ronica will let me know, and honestly, good riddance.”

He laughs as he kisses your forehead. “I don’t doubt it, angel.”

You smile at him, no longer disgruntled from your frustrating coworker. “You look really good,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“You look exquisite,” is his quick response, continuing to stroke up and down along your sides. He kisses you slowly, one hand moving to cup your neck and holding you there. “Is this a new dress?”

“Got it for forty bucks,” you say with a grin. “This boutique was having a sale downtown. Guess how much this used to be.”

He laughs at your enthusiasm, kissing you again. “How much?”

“One hundred and twenty,” you say giddily as you straighten his tie. “That’s a steal, right? So I bought two more dresses the same price. That’s like, two free dresses, y’know? Girl maths.”

Spencer can’t help but smile as you tell him all about your shopping spree, his pointer finger dragging up and down your jaw. He doesn’t have the heart to correct you about the inaccuracies of whatever ‘girl maths’ is, instead choosing to nod along. “Yeah?”

You nod with a silly smile. “Yeah! And I figured that I might as well get JJ and Will’s wedding gift while I was out and I got these super cute wine glasses and–”

He cuts you off with a kiss, his fingers delving into your once neat updo, and his mouth pressing firmly against yours. In seconds he has you sat on the seat of your vanity and he leans down to kiss you harder.

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs against your lips, “so pretty.”

“You messed up my hair,” you scold half-heartedly, your fingers grazing against the collar of his shirt. “We’re gonna be late to the wedding.”

“It’s not our wedding,” he breathes, kissing you again and murmuring between them, “they’ll understand.”

You pull away, cheeks hot and lips swollen. “They’ll know.”

“Good.”

“Spencer!”

You arrive at Rossi’s mansion with five minutes to spare, guests already filing through the doors. From the corner of your eye, you spot Aaron and Emily speaking in one of the living rooms while JJ follows an older lady up the stairs holding a white dress in her arms. After placing the wedding gift on the table, you venture out into the garden where the tables are decorated with white lace tablecloths and the chairs have big satin ribbons on the backs of them. Cream and white roses are arranged elegantly on top of the tables and the fairy lights provide an even bigger sense of magic to the scene.

“The place looks amazing, David,” you praise, beaming at the older man. “Truly, it’s like something out of a fairytale.”

He chuckles as he holds a flute of champagne, gesturing to where Derek stands with Penelope. “I had some help. You’re taking care of yourself?”

“Of course,” you respond, waving to Derek who looks all too pleased to see you again. “It has been a really good couple of years.”

“You and Spencer have been together for, what, two and a half years?” He asks as he looks over to where Spencer is showing magic tricks to Henry.

“Sounds like a long time, huh?” You ask through a breathless laugh. “It’s been good.”

David smiles proudly at you, patting you on the shoulder. “I’m happy for the two of you. You’re like a daughter to me, you know that.”

“I know,” you respond, grinning. “Thank you.”

“Let me know when the big day happens,” he says with a wink. “It’ll save you from renting a venue.”

You only laugh and shake your head as you move to where Spencer is, ruffling his hair as Henry giggles loudly. Spencer lets out a shout in protest, swatting your hands away lightly before holding them in his own, bringing his lips to the back of it.

“Having fun?” You ask them, grinning at Henry who nods excitedly.

“Uncle Spencer showed me a magic trick!” He exclaims, clapping his hands together.

“Oh is that right?”

Spencer offers you a sheepish smile, twirling a penny around his fingers. “Do you want to see?”

He doesn’t give you much room to accept or deny the offer, holding the penny in his hands and showing it to both you and Henry.

“Behold,” he announces, “a normal penny. But this penny can travel through the astrological planes and dimensions. Watch closely.”

He holds the penny up to your face before snapping his fingers and, lo and behold, the penny was out of sight. He shows both his hands, front and back, a boyish smile on his face. Henry claps at the display, squealing and brushing his long hair away from his face.

“Where’d it go?” Henry asks, pouting.��

Spencer beams at the enthusiasm and holds his hands out again. “Ah, now that is the tricky part. For that, I need an assistant… angel, do you mind?”

He holds you by the waist with left hand, kissing your cheeks before holding his right hand in front of your face. Henry shrieks at the display of affection, covering his eyes exaggeratedly. You laugh out of embarrassment, swatting at Spencer’s arms and rolling your eyes.

“Stop torturing the poor child,” you scold lightly, wiping away his sloppy kisses.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he dismisses, before waggling his fingers. “Now, to find that penny…”

He reaches up behind your ear, pinching at something, before revealing the penny in his pinched fingers. He watches as your eyes widen with surprise, his cheeks pinkening in delight.

“How did you do that?” You ask, grabbing the penny from his hand and turning it over in your fingers.

“He’s magic,” Henry provides helpfully, clapping his hands. “Just like Auntie Penelope! When I tell her about something, it magically shows up at my house in a big brown box!”

You laugh, not having the heart to inform him that Penelope is not magic; simply very good at spoiling the people she cares about. She has taken you on more than a few shopping sprees in hopes of spoiling her little godson, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the cute clothes and toys in the department stores. Recently, she’s been scouting out jewellery stores, going on and on about how difficult it is to find gifts for people. You had offered a few recommendations of your own, gesturing to the pretty rings and necklaces out on display, but she only dismissed your suggestions.

“Auntie Penelope is basically a fairy godmother,” you tell Henry in explanation, chuckling. “Like in Cinderella.”

“I love Cinderella,” Henry says, his eyes lighting up. “Uncle Spencer read it to me! He said that the original story is about Ash-poo-tell.”

“Ashputtel,” Spencer explains to you, “the original story.”

“Ah,” you nod in remembrance, recalling the grim details of the story. You ruffle Henry’s hair. “You can hear that story when you’re older.”

The rest of the wedding goes without a hitch. Drinks are handed out by the ushers Rossi hired, along with cute little hors d'oeuvres. The ceremony in itself is perfection; JJ and Will sharing a kiss after saying their vows, and Henry being the ring bearer. Spencer holds your hand the entirety of the celebrations, brushing his thumb up and down the back of your left palm, carefully tracing each knuckle.

As JJ and Will take to the dance floor, more and more couples join in. Derek and a very drunk Penelope join in with loud giggles, and Beth drags Hotch into the circle by the wrists. Spencer rests his hands on your waist as the two of you stand at the sidelines, watching with amused grins as Penelope trips over her own feet.

“Hey,” Spencer murmurs into your ear, pulling you closer. “What do you say we get away from the crowd?”

You jump on the opportunity, already picking up your purse. “Who are you and what have you done to Spencer Walter Reid?”

He rolls his eyes at you, shooting a quick message to the team’s group chat to let them know that you were making an early leave. “Very funny.”

“No, no, I’m serious! Do you need to see a doctor? Like, a medical one?” You ask with jest as he opens up the car door for you.

“Do you want me to change my mind?” He asks, laughing, before getting into the driver’s seat of the car. “I just thought that we could go somewhere. It’s not too late and if we hurry, I think we could catch the sunset.”

You smile innocently as he puts the car into drive, heading off to who knows where. “Have I ever told you that I love you?”

“Tell me again,” he prompts, resting his hand on the inside of your thigh as he keeps his eyes on the road.

“I love you.”

“I love you,” comes his immediate response, squeezing at the flesh of your thighs through your dress. A street sign passes overhead as he drives, reading the word ‘Anacostia’.

“We’re going to the Bridge Park?” You ask curiously, peering out the window.

He hums in affirmation. “I heard it’s pretty this time of day. I wanted to take you out somewhere nice, but I don’t know when we’ll have a case next so I figured that this would be the perfect time.”

After parking the car and locking it, Spencer takes your hand as you walk through the park. It’s a very popular area in Anacostia, the entire neighbourhood holding old historic buildings that have been refurbished.

You relish the feeling of the breeze in your hair, your cheeks turning rosy as the temperature begins to drop. You made it just in time for the sunset as it paints the park in oranges and a soft lavender haze, your skin flushing gold from the lighting. You commit the image to memory as you stare at the view, your dress fluttering around your legs from the wind.

In your distraction, you miss the way Spencer’s hand drops from yours, and you search through your purse for your phone. You click open the photo app, putting it onto the selfie setting as you turn to him.

“Walter, let’s take a–”

The words die at your tongue upon the sight before you. Spencer, in his once neat suit and tie and all his germaphobic tendencies kneeling on the cold concrete, holding a velvet ring box in his hand. The box looks comically small in his palms as he looks up at you, his eyes glossed over and a tearful smile on his face.

“Hi, angel,” he says softly, his voice cracking at the last syllable.

“What’re you doing?” You ask, even though you know exactly what is going on. Blood rushes to your ears and you sniffle. “Spencer, your pants–”

“I love you,” he says firmly, the box in his hands quivering as his hands shake. His palms are sweaty and he swallows the nerves down his throat. “I love you. I’m not– I’m not good with words or with expressing how I feel but I know one thing for certain: I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

He chokes out a quiet laugh as you take a step closer to him, wiping the tears away from his eyes. “I had a speech prepared and everything,” he says, embracing the feel of your warm hands on his cheeks. “I can’t even remember what I was going to say.”

“It’s okay,” you murmur, crouching down so that you are eye level with him. “It’s okay, Walter.”

“No, I–” he swallows the lump in his throat and wets his bottom lip. “Love in the English dictionary covers a multitude of feelings. You can love doing something, or love a specific food, or love an object. In other languages, there are different words for different types of love and I think… I think that they got it right. There are a million untranslatable words that all mean love but I think the one that expresses how I feel about you would be the Chinese phrase ‘yuan fen’. It means that two people were… predestined to be together and I think– I know that we were meant to be.”

He sucks in a breath after his rant, smiling up at you. “Will you marry me?”

Tears slip from your eyes as you nod, pulling him up from the cold musty ground. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Spencer exhales, his arms looping around your waist. His nose burrows into the side of your neck and you can feel the hot tears against your skin.

“Thank God,” he breathes, moving his head to kiss your cheeks. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you respond, hugging him tight. “Was there ever any doubt?”

He laughs a little, shaking his head as he fumbles with the velvet box, slipping the ring onto your left ring finger. “No. Never.”

Spencer brushes a strand of your hair away from your face before kissing you slowly, the light from the sun finally going down. As you pull away, the speakers overhead come to life with the announcer clearing his throat.

“Unfortunately, due to the predicted rain that will be coming shortly, the fireworks show will be rescheduled. We apologise for this inconvenience.”

You peer up at Spencer curiously who looked more than disappointed. “Fireworks show?”

“That was the plan,” he says with a small frown. “I’m sorry, angel.”

There’s a crash of thunder and before you know it, small droplets of water begin to fall from the sky. Spencer immediately covers your head with his jacket, pulling you over to the car.

“Wait, wait–” you laugh, resisting his efforts. “Walter, wait!”

“I’m not letting you get sick,” he scolds lightly, his curls sticking to his forehead from the rain.

You laugh again, stepping closer to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Well, we don’t have a pool but… rain works too, right?”

“You’re insane,” he says, his forehead pressed against yours. “You’re crazy.”

A teasing grin makes its way onto your face as you waggle your fingers in front of him. “Yeah, well, you’re marrying crazy.”

“No regrets,” he responds, before pressing his lips to yours.

In that moment, as he kisses you on the sidewalk in the pouring rain, you could have sworn that you felt sparks fly.

← previous part || series masterlist → || bonus !!

Thank you everyone once again for your support through this project! I have had so much fun writing it and I am so grateful for all the traction and love that it has received! With the help of this project, we have reached 2.1k followers! To celebrate, I have opened requests and you can find the event page here <3 thank you all once again and until next time !!

reblogs are always appreciated!

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sssilverstoned · 4 months

Text

reminiscing ꩜ ln4

type: instagram/twitter au

Fans suffer days leading to love's holiday without their favorite couple.

lily said: hi! my first fic here, my first social media au ever, hope u enjoy :) will be a part 2 and 3..maybe more as well. whatever my heart desires and such

call her daddy podcast, 2/6/23

alex cooper and special guest: y/n l/n

y/n l/n: my friends keep trying to get me on dates, but i don't know, i'm just too much of a homebody right now. trying my best, but i'm rusty.

alex cooper: right, and i totally don't want to bring it up, if you don't want it out, but...

y/n l/n: no, it's totally fine. and yes, i'm single. it's one of those things i figured people will start to pick up on, it's kinda how life like this goes.

alex cooper: like a microscope on your relationship?

y/n l/n: exactly. made stuff super stressful, especially since we started dating when we were 19.

alex cooper: shit, 5 years is longer than i thought!

y/n l/n: we grew up together, had so many highlights and growing pains, and i don't want to get on your show and wallow or pout, that's really not what i feel. and i hope no one thinks anyone did anything wrong, it's just a growth thing. some people, as they grow, grow differently. and apart, i guess.

alex cooper: but you still have love for each other, i know that for sure.

y/n l/n: i'll never ever lose that love, i don't think.

Liked by pierregasly, arthur_leclerc, and 1,264,997 others

landonorris Quite a birthday today! Another year around the sun, another year of me kissing your face. Love you the most.

user1 yassss OUR girlfriend!

yourusername To the moon and back baby!!!!

yourusername Not pictured: his slobber on my cheek

landonorris You quite like my slobber, no? oscarpiastri I surely don't

user2: you two really are growing up together :')

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Liked by zendaya, kendalljenner, and 1,754,132 others

yourusername Sweet boy took me for a picnic, had too much wine hahaha. Thank you all for the birthday wishes, my heart is singing!!!! 23, woah am I close to getting old?

user1 SWEET BOY oh you people are sick

landonorris The most stunning girl, even napping

landonorris and yes you're old now user2 CORNYYYY (i'm ready to end it all) user3 "you're old now" and what are you??

emrata Wine's always a good idea

bellahadid happy birthday baby! come visit soon

user4 does that say lando on her necklace . i'm gonna snap soon

sza Loveeeee. U my favorite, Happy Solar Return!

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Liked by alpinegoss, paddocktea, and 16,821 others

f1gossipcentral submission from a fan today in monaco:

i met lando today with a few others, he was so nice! we didn't want to ask flat out about y/n, he actually brought her up in passing when someone mentioned being from the same hometown as her, and he pointed it out himself. he didn't have the same energy we're used to when speaking about her, but it's obvious there was love in his voice, a lot of it. he's still got her friendship bracelet she made him last year on, but i think it's the type you'd have to cut to get off. regardless, i hope the best for him, and her too.

user1 you're telling me just the name of her hometown and he BLURTS about her?? AFTER being broken up??? yeah we're never seeing pearly gates atp

user2 is this what a broken home feels like?

user3 SHATTERED home. and yes. user4 y/n lando please. come home the kids miss you

user5: single y/n...don't hate me but i would love a baddie era

user6: oh this is not a safe space for you.

View more comments...

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #social media au #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #f1 instagram edit

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icanseethefuture333 · 3 months

Text

PAC: What your pretty self needs to hear for Valentine's Day ♡

Your heart's message to you + a message from your secret admirer 💌

They say the truth ain't pretty, but coming from that pretty mouth

The truth is fitting, cause you ain't ever talkin' loud

And you know plenty

Yeah, you know what I'm talkin' about

Cause you just get me

Yeah, you so pretty... ♡

Pile 1:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Girl by Destiny's Child

Far by SZA

I MISS YOU SO BAD by iKON

The Lovers, Seven of Cups, & Three of Cups

So what your heart wishes to tell to you is that there is still love out there. You may have previously gotten over an ex, a past crush, or you are in the process of recovering from a break up. In the song "Far" SZA asks Sadhguru how to deal with rejection, in which he responds, "That's great! If nobody wants you then you're free." You have to look on the bright side of things. You also have to know what your worth is. No one else can define your worth but you. You have to be secure with who you are as a person. No one can love the parts you need to heal from. Once you feel fulfilled with who you are as a person. That is when you can form healthy connection with others. I believe you still are hoping for you and this person to get back together but you are hurting yourself even more by obsessing over this person (was going to say focus but instead I heard obsess). Reflect on your current situation and ask yourself, "What wound is this person triggering in me?". What do you need to move on from? To take care of your heart you should do some self reflection. Journaling and shadow work would help provide some clarity. Your heart asks you to not fall back into old habits. Self love is important for your growth, pile 1!

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Time To Love by Red Velvet

Changes by Jeff Bernat

I Think I'm Falling by KOHH

Wallflower, New Love, & Union

There is a new love coming in for you! This person could be shy and likes to admire you from afar. They could be self conscious about some things about themselves as well. The feelings seem to be mutual here. There could be a new crush that you like and wish to speak to, but are to nervous to ask them out of fear of rejection. Don't fret! Confessing your feelings helps build courage. If the person rejects you, then that just means there isnsomeone else better out there for you. It is not the end of the world just because you got rejected. Have a little more confidence in yourself, you are great, pile 1! Regardless, I see you and this secret admirer actually being intimate. Things could develop into something more serious with this union card. So make sure to be open to this energy and give them a chance at love ♡

Pile 2:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Mine by Slayyyter

ANTIFRAGILE by LE SSERAFIM

Post To Be by Omarion ft. Chris Brown & Jhené Aiko

Four of Cups, Eight of Wands, & The Fool

Your heart does not want to be tied down at the moment! I believe it has plenty of love to give lol. You also have no problem with turning people down or vice versa. You are looking for a fling and just wish to have a casual relationship! You could have a lot of options in love and would like to explore things romantically, maybe even sexually. Your heart suggests that you focus on your happiness and learn what pleases you. Love does not always have to be serious. Sometimes short lived romances have the best stories to tell! You will be feeling very confident and sexy in your romantic endeavors.

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Boys Wanna Be Her by Peaches

No Flex Zone by Rae Sremmurd

STUCK IN MY HEAD by Twice

Open Relationship, Mature Woman, & Fun Times

This secret admirer of yours is honestly hilarious 😭. I kept getting meme songs and I hs to shuffle again to get a proper message. This could be my queer pile as well 🏳️‍🌈. I'm getting Renee Rapp vibes from your secret admirer, Pile 2 😋. They could suit the 'girl crush' aesthetic or if it is someone who identifies as masculine, they have a very pretty face. They are open minded, flirtatious, and exciting to be around. This person wishes to tell you that you are stuck in their head! They find you to be "so fine" 😜! They would like take you out soon. I'm getting it will be a bar date or they will take you dancing at a night club.

Pile 3:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

More Than Enough by Alina Baraz

Bluffin by Brent Faiyaz

Mona Lisa by Naji ft. Monter Booker

Death, Six of Swords, & Six of Pentacles

Oh, pile 3, bless your heart 🥹. You are someone who has such a kind, gentle heart. You have the purest intentions and for that people can tell how geniune you are as a person. You could be selfless and caring towards others. You have so much love to give that it is obvious to others. I don't see any bitterness in your heart and I feel like your heart wishes to tell you how proud it is of you for being able to find forgiveness. You are leaning to let go of the people who have hurt you in the past. The essence of your spirit is so soft and it's very beautiful to witness. Your heart's message to you is that anyone would be lucky to have you in their life. So don't ever feel like you are not enough because you're more than that. You are this cup that is overflowing with love and sincerity.

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

At Your Best (You Are Loved) by Aaliyah

Freaky Deaky by Tyga ft. Doja Cat

LOVE by Kendrick Lamar ft. Zacari

Dating, True Love, & True Gem

Your secret admirer absolutely adores you, pile 3. They see your value as a person and they know that there is no one else like you in this world. You have so much love to give and they do as well. I am getting that they want to literally treat you like a princess/princess - just overall royalty. Their have geniune intentions as well and they would like to spoil you this Valentine's day ❤. (Channeled song: Kiss It Better by Rihanna 💋) for a few of you, you and your specific person could be separated. I see that things will turn out for the better soon. So have faith in yourself and in this person for things to work out. They could offer you some sort of proposal, love offer, or a token of their gratitude to show how much they love you. I see things would be passionate, flirty, and romantic for you and your secret admirer 🎆.

Pile 4:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Green Light by Beyoncé

Standing Next To You by Jungkook

God of Music by SEVENTEEN

Two of Pentacles, Page of Wands, & The Magician

You are such an optimistic person, pile 4! You could be someone who often gives advice to others and help others look on the bright side of things. You radiate such positive energy and it makes you a joy to be around. You could be someone who knows what they want and goes after it. You know how to balance your heart with your brain. Intuitive but also logical. People wonder how you are able to turn your ideas into reality. Your heart's message to you is to keep going after your goals and not let anyone distract you from your dreams. As long as you are happy that is all that matters. Your heart also wishes to tell you that whatever makes you light up inside is meant for you. Whatever your heart is set on whether that's a new job, house, etc. You have the ability to manifest whatever you desire.

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Phone Me by Che Ecru

Novacane by Frank Ocean

Own It by Drake

Passion, Friendship, & Communication

For some of you, you could be currently in a "situationship" or have a FWB with someone. While for others, your secret admirer is possibly a friend of yours. This person is conflicted on how to approach you. You may receive a text or phone call from them soon where they ask you about your relationship with another. They could ask you how you feel about them or drop hints that they are attracted to you. The ball is in your park, pile 4, if you decide to be more than just friends with this person.

Pile 5:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Girl Like Me by Alexa Demie

Fulfillment? By Kilo Kish

Baddie by IVE

Eight of Cups, Two of Cups, & Seven of Swords

I am getting like "manic pixie dream girl" vibes from you, Pile 2. Something about you is hard to pin point to others. Mysterious but also so enchanting. You know you are someone who is complex but also so beautiful. You have these interesting quirks that makes you stand out and memorable to others. You are comfortable with who you as a person and it could have took you a long time to get to a place of being this self assured. You could have a child like wonder as well and it is admirable to others. You could be questioning what direction to take in life and could find "adulting" very hard but don't give up, pile 5! Everything will be okay in the end. Your heart's message to you is to learn what gives you emotional fulfillment in life. Also to not take shit from no one. What's interesting is your face could look quite sweet but you are actually feisty and have a firey spirit. There is a duality to your personality and its attractive. I am getting like Song Jia, Alexa Demie, Wonyoung, & Taylor Russell vibes from you, pile 5. Your heart wants you to embrace your confidence and focus on the abundance in your future. Do not let people drag you down and dim your light. Your heart believes it is time for some self pampering. Set your standards high in love and know that you are deserving of everything you desire. I also believe it is time to burn bridges with people who no longer serve you. How can you live the life of your dreams if other people only acknowledge the version of yourself that no longer resonates with you? If you wish to be the girl of your dreams, you have to learn to put yourself first.

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Lilith by Halsey

Ditto by NewJeans

High Fashion by Roddy Rich ft. Mustard

Triangle, Travel, & Spiritual Growth

What is this Single's Inferno?! You have options, pile 5. You could have more than one secret admirer. You could be observing your current options in love and feeling "Well! Let the best person win☺️!" I see people wanting to fly you out and pay for your trips, oh my🫠. One of the people you will date could be popular or have a well known social status. You give people butterflies and some of you may know what affect you have on people, while some of you are innocent to the fact. You could receive love confessions or you may even already have. I feel like you are the type of person who receives love letters, jewelry, candies, and box of chocolates, if not you are going to be spoiled for this Valentine's day! You could meet your secret admirer(s) while traveling or when going on vacation. Your secret admirer's message to you is that they "like you" and hoping you feel the same 💕. They want to understand your love language and words of affirmations / gift giving could be one of their love languages in particular.

Pile 6:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Rose by Miyeon

Honey Dew by Lion Babe

Chanel by TiaCorine

King of Pentacles, Five of Wands, & Queen of Cups

I feel like you are at odds with your heart and brain right now, pile 6. You seem to feel confused about a decision you have to make. I believe you could think things are "sweeter" in other people's lives but that is not necessarily true. I know sometimes we can want what other people have but if it gets to the point of comparing yourselves to others then its not healthy. You have to remember to be grateful for what you have in life. It's okay to want the finer things, but what are you overlooking when you are doing that? Your heart's message to you is to not worry about what other people are doing in life and instead focus on what makes you great of a person. You are just as lovable, sweet, and beautiful.

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Congratulations by Mac Miller ft. Bilal

Little Things by Sunni Colón

Aura by Mariah The Scientist

Work, Money, & Long Distance

I believe you and this person are already in a relationship. If not, your secret admirer will be the next person you end up in a romantic relationship with. This person could live further away from you and has a high paying job. They prefer to take on a traditional role of a provider. This person could have a hard time discussing their feelings though and shows their love through acts of services. While you, I feel you are more of an emotional person. You both could have a hard time expressing your feelings and thoughts properly to each other, which would cause conflict. Things might be tense for Valentine's Day. You and your secret admirer could have strong feelings for each other, but there needs to be an important conversation had in order for this relationship to progress. Both of you could be disheartened by this but there's hope! Try to appreciate the little things in your relationship and not focus on being the "perfect couple", for that does not exist. Every relationship has its flaws and all that matters is that you and you partner love each other very much. If it's meant to be, it will be, it won't be something you have to force, it'll come naturally.

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spdrwdw · 2 months

Note

hi! I saw ur post abt accidentally deleting reqs and was scared since mine wasn’t answered yet (im not complaining bc ur other work is so so delicious to read 😍) anyways here it is. Ok imagine Miguel ohara being the heir to the mafia ‘throne(?)’ ima be so fr idk what they call it 💀 anyways and he’s in an arranged marriage w/ a girl from a diff mafia family as a way to make peace between the two families, except neither he or the girl are happy abt it. Enemies to lovers would just be majestic for the plot in my opinion 🤭. Anywaysssss thank u sm and remember to drink water 🫶🏻

Art by: Kimmy_art0912 Pairing: Mob Boss Miguel x Wife reader Warnings: Mentions of blood, very mild violence, no use of y/n Summary: You and Miguel come from different mafia families, forced to be married in order to form an alliance as threat from an outside. However, you and Miguel can only tolerate each other, at best. A/N: I swear I scratched and rewrote this like five different times.I am sorry it took so long. I am slowly making my way back into writing. I do thank anon and everyone else for their patience as I slowly make my way back to life and I will be writing more Miguel fics soon. I may do a part two to this, depending on interest recieved. I have been getting into mafia books so I am going to be looking into those for inspo if I do make more parts to this. Also, very very light editing was done. Word Count: 4.6k

Your family and the O’Hara’s have been enemies since your ancestors set foot into this country. Both immigrating from nothing but the clothes on their backs and pennies to their name.

Your family started working in the food industry. Working in restaurants, bakeries, etc. Anything that had to do with food. Seven days a week. Working from twelve to fourteen hour shifts just to make ends meet. Your great great grandfather worked at the local deli as well as a restaurant. When he wasn’t cutting up meat, he was in the kitchen making food. Your great great grandmother worked at the neighborhood bakery as well as the tailors. Her dream was to make clothes- dresses. She wanted to be a fashion designer. She started taking classes at the local college once they saved up enough money to invest in her studies.

Eventually, with their hard work and sacrifices, their dreams came true. Your family soon owned several restaurants as well as luxury boutiques. Everyone did their part in keeping the family businesses growing and going.

At first, it was all simply honest work. Your family stayed humble and grateful for their dedication. Then, with your great grandfather, things took a slight turn. He wanted to expand and turn into construction. Nueva York continued to go and grow, with more people coming to try to make a living and a name for themselves. And in that mix, people with bad intentions also tagged along. The family businesses were in jeopardy of being taken over or shut down completely by these power-hungry thugs. He did not want that. So, he and the rest of the family banded together and began hiring people who would be willing to work for them and protect them, whether they were military vets, criminals, or even cops. Anyone who was willing to protect the family.

Allyship with other mafia families also aided in the growth and protection. However, there was one family that yours always butted heads with.

The O’Haras. They immigrated from Ireland around the same time your great great grandparents did. They built their own businesses, casinos, hotels, and clubs- and wanted their own power and a spot with the elites of the criminal world.

At first, things were neutral between the two families. At one point, the two families were almost allies. However, one night, there was commotion going on at one of the O’Hara nightclubs. Members of your family got into a tussle with the O’Hara group and ended up being a blood bath, with both sides losing men.

Ever since then, things were tense, and the bloodshed continued to grow as oppositions rose.

No one really knew what it was that started the feud that night. Some suspected it had been over a woman. Others thought it was simply because some members were drunk and careless words were exchanged.

Either way, the rivalry continued on. Until a new threat entered the city. And there was no choice but to come together.

—

It’s been six months since you moved into his house. Six months since you lost your freedom. Six months since you got married. To Miguel O’Hara.

It all happened in an instant. First, you were out abroad, having recently gotten your first major job as a fashion designer in a luxury clothing company, wanting to be as successful as your great great grandmother, and now you were out on a little vacation to celebrate, when you received a call from your father, ordering you to come back home.

You should’ve relished that Mediterranean breeze as long as you could, because once you got on that flight back home, your world was about to be flipped on its head.

“I’m sorry…WHAT?!” You screeched at your father, you only looked at you with his calm, cool, distant, expression as he inhaled into his cigar.

“You’re getting married to Miguel O’Hara,” he repeated.

“I heard what you said! But, why?!”

“The O’Haras had agreed to a truce. Kingpin is gaining on both of our families. We are losing men and traction left and right. We agreed by aligning our families together, we will gain strength in numbers and influence.”

“And you are shipping me off into an arranged marriage! This isn’t the medieval age or whatever!

Plus, with Miguel?! At least have me marry Gabriel. He’s not an asshole like his brother.”

“Miguel is to become head of the O’Hara family as he is the first born. Plus, his determination has been promising.”

You let out a groan. You could not believe this was happening. You never wanted to get sucked into this life. That’s why you went off to college. To try to get away and make a life of your own. Your efforts were proven to be futile as you felt the rug be pulled from under you and you were being dragged along with it to the same life you were trying to escape.

Your father’s eyes softened. A hint of sorrow filled them.

“I know, sweetheart. This isn’t what I was hoping for you, either. But, it is the only way. We are running out of options. I am sure Miguel will take care of you, and you will be able to fulfill your dream of following your great great grandmother’s footsteps. I am sure she would be proud to have someone actively expanding her fashion legacy..”

You still shook your head. It was just too much for you to take in. Plus, wasn’t Miguel in a relationship with someone? Xina? No..they broke up months ago. That’s right. But, wait..he was seeing someone else? Ugh. The guy has a new girlfriend every other day.

Besides, you two did have a thing going on in the past. It wasn’t serious. Mainly the occasional hookups. You two were of rivaling families, after all. You both did have your reasons for disliking each other. So, the sex was pretty much hate sex? If that made sense. It wasn’t out of passion. Unless you could call hatred a passion.

Never did you think you’d actually be getting married to him.

After the news broke out that you and Miguel were to be wedded, everything went by in such a blur. Preparations for the wedding. The actual wedding. The honeymoon- which was hardly a honeymoon because neither of you actually spent any time together. It was just too awkward, and you knew that he wasn’t happy with this arrangement as much as you were.

When you first moved into his house, you wanted to sleep in a separate room from him, and he agreed. However, when both of your parents found out about this, they were all livid.

“How will you two get to know each other more and become intimate with each other if you are sleeping in separate beds?” Your mom cried one day when she came to visit you. You assured her there would be other situations where you and your husband would bond. Public situations where you’d be surrounded by other people and talking to those people rather than each other.

You two simply avoided each other as much as possible. And during the times when you two were together, your company was either met with silence or bickering. And sometimes even being at each other’s throats.

He would call you names like ‘immature’ ‘wild’ ‘rowdy’ and so on, simply because you refused to listen to him whenever he demanded something from you.

You’d retaliate and tell him that he was controlling and a perfectionist. Because well, he was. He had to have things done a certain way or it would ensue chaos. And while he was right about you being a little more rowdy and wild, it was simply because you had the luxury of growing somewhat more normal. Your parents did not drill the life of the mafia into your head the same way it was drilled into Miguel’s. Which is why you both clashed when trying to communicate with each other.

Right now, you were at home in the library. You spend a lot of time there, and while Miguel’s taste in reading wasn’t usually to your taste, you’d sometimes find yourself reading some of the novels that he was currently reading, as well as reading some that you’ve been purchasing and adding to the collection.

Which reminded you, you had to head over to the mall and purchase the next book of a spicy romance series you’d been reading. As well as look for an outfit to wear at the next charity event you and Miguel would be attending.

One of the few things you liked about Miguel was that he was very generous and active in the community, helping those less fortunate.

Placing the book down, you rubbed your bag and keys and decided to head out for a bit. Saying goodbye to the house staff as you walked past them, you made your way to the garage, which housed Miguel’s collection of cars, ranging from vintage to sporty and modern to big black suvs that you’d use whenever a bodyguard was transporting you somewhere, like parties. You never understood why someone needed so many cars but, whatever, as long as it wasn’t your money being spent.

You made your way over to your car, glad that you were able to bring it with you when you got married. It was your baby. One of the few things you were able to bring with you.

Glancing over at the clock on the dashboard, you bit your bottom lip. You should have enough time to purchase some books before heading off to your parents for a bit. You did promise them you would show up. They were planning lunch for you. It was your birthday today, after all.

—

Miguel stood in front of the battered man that kneeled before him, hearing the groaning of pain coming from their mouth as blood pooled around the cement floor.

Miguel’s knuckles were bleeding. But, it wasn’t his own blood, but the blood of the poor bastard that withered before him. Miguel didn’t like to use violence. He thought it was a primitive way of negotiating with his enemies. However, there were times when a little violence was necessary to get his point across. And to send a message.

Why was this man being battered like a sack of potatoes?

The man spat blood, a tooth or two flying out with the glob of blood as he remained strapped to his chair. His face was covered in blood. Beat up and mangled by the hands of the tall, brooding man before him.

Miguel slowly knelt down before the man, taking a fistful of his hair, forcing him to look up into his almost amber eyes.

“ Eres un demonio! (You're a demon). Not even the devil himself will want you!” the man spat, a glob of blood landing on Miguel’s cheek.

Miguel let out a hum of disinterest. His eyes lacked any life in them. However, this was when he felt the most alive, seeing his enemies cowering and crumbling before him.

He took out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and cleaned the blood from his cheek before tossing the now soiled material at the man’s feet.

“I take that as a compliment, you know. Maybe I want the devil himself to fear me.”

Miguel took out a cigar from his coat pocket and lit it before giving it a deep inhale and exhaled a heavy cloud of smoke at the man’s face. He couldn't believe that one of Kingpin's goons had infiltrated his circle and posed himself as someone who could've been trusted. Miguel was definitely going to send that fat son of a bitch a message, by killing this guy and sending his corpse back to Kingpin's front door.

Not only that, but it also meant that they were going to have to redo background checks on everyone working for the O’Haras. That was going to be a pain in the ass.

"Gabriel! Hand me my gun," Miguel called out to his brother.

Gabriel, Peter, and Ben were all standing several feet behind Miguel, all watching as their boss beat and battered the man before them.

Gabriel was Miguel’s right hand now that their father had stepped down as head of the O’Hara family. Many thought Gabriel was going to take charge, however, Miguel was much more brutal and cut-throat than Gabriel. It made sense for Miguel to take up the mantle, despite him being an illegitimate son.

Plus, Gabriel preferred being on the sidelines instead of making the decisions.

Gabriel made his way over to his older brother, handing him the gun before stepping back to his original spot.

“Now. We can do this the easy way. Where I ask you a couple of questions and answer them. Or, we can do this the hard way, when I ask you said questions and if you refuse to answer them, I get to shoot you anywhere I want.”

”I would rather you just shoot me! I will never answer to you!” The man croaked.

“You never got shot before, have you?” Miguel hummed as he removed the safety from the gun and cocked it before pulling the trigger, shooting the man on the foot.

The man let out a screeching howl as he thrashed on the chair, letting out a series of curses.

Miguel simply nodded his head. “That’s what I thought. So..shall we begin?”

The whole ordeal took only a matter of minutes, as Miguel wasted no time in trying to get his questions answered. The man was not sitting lifeless on the chair as bullet holes decorated his body.

Kingpin had sent a lower ranked grunt to spy on them, trying to scope up any valuable information to report back to his true boss. Unfortunately for Kingpin, those in the lower ranks didn’t really get to be part of the action and behind-closed door discussions, so, this man’s life was unnecessarily wasted.

“Send his body back to Kingpin. Just leave him on his doorstep,” Miguel said as he examined his suit, letting out a grunt when he saw small splatters of blood. He was going to have to go home and change. “Will do. You should start heading back home. I am sure you wife is waiting for you,” Gabriel said as Peter and Ben began placing the body into a black body bag and carried him out to the waiting pick-up truck.

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t hate you, but he knew that you hated him. And you had every right. You got married to him out of force, and while that wasn’t necessarily his fault, he didn’t blame you for holding a grudge on him.

“Keep me posted on any activity. I need updated background checks on everyone working for us. We can’t let anyone else slip through the cracks,” Miguel stated as he made his way over to his car, with his brother following behind him. Gabriel nodded his head as he watched his brother leave.

He had to make sure no on in his inner circle was actually working for Kingpin. Is someone indeed was, might as well just shut everything down then and there.

No. Miguel wouldn’t give up just like that. He would just have to work harder and steer Kingpin off track.

But, for the time being, his main goal was to get back home and get to his wife. It was your birthday, after all.

–

You spent the majority of the day with your parents. You had gone over to your former home- which you still miss deeply. It was such a stark contrast from where you lived now. There was just so much character, so much history in this house. It was the same house your great great grandfather had bought as a gift to his lovely wife, your great great grandmother, once their businesses were booming.

It had twelve bedrooms and sixteen bathrooms. A library where your mother would take you to read. When you were young, you’d pick out a book for your mother to read to you in bed. Mainly a fairy tale story.

You always thought your life would be a fairy tale. You always imagined yourself as the princess or heroine, going on adventures and falling in love. However, the universe was not like those in the stories. Maybe in an alternate universe. But, not in this one.

Instead, you were forced to marry the enemy in hopes of forming an alliance. Which, depending on how you looked at it, could’ve been seen as a fairytale. It didn’t feel like it. You weren’t in love with Miguel. You tolerated each other at best. Plus, you guys had shared history which made things pretty awkward at times.

—-

You were back home, waiting for your darling husband to come home and wish you a Happy Birthday. He also supposedly promised to take you out to dinner. It was really an attempt for you two to get somewhat closer together. But, you weren’t sure how well that would play out. You both liked to push each other’s buttons. You were sure it would occur tonight. And honestly, you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. You wanted to be a thorn on his side. He was always so full of himself. Always thought himself to be this bigshot. Untouchable. Unweavered. You loved proving him wrong.

You continued to wait and wait. The house staff had left for the night, including Miss Cheryl, your personally favorite housekeeper. She was an older woman, possibly in her mid-fifties. You never cared to ask her- mainly because you didn’t want to be rude and you actually liked her.

Looking up at the clock in Miguel’s office, you saw that it was already seven thirty in the evening. Reservations were supposedly made for eight. Miguel had thirty minutes to get there.

A part of you didn’t really care if he had forgotten or just waved it off. You didn’t want to force yourself to be nice with him, because who knew, you might just throw a glass of wine at him just as you did during your wedding reception.

You could hear a chime coming from the Alexa that rested on Miguel’s desk, signaling that someone had entered the house.

Finally. You honestly thought he wasn’t going to come.

Raising from his chair, you decided to go ahead and greet your husband.

He was making his way upstairs as you made your way down the hallway, both of you making eye contact.

“You’re late. I thought you weren’t going to come,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

As Miguel stepped closer, you could notice blood splattered on his white shirt.

“I know. Let me get changed real quick,” he replied as he walked past you.

You knew Miguel had a way of dealing with those who wronged him. You have seen his blood-stained knuckles, bloodied shirts and a dangerous look in his eyes. It’s pretty much like in the movies. Some poor unlucky soul gets tortured to death by the boss or someone higher up. You’d like to think that Miguel isn’t simply killing people just because of blood-lust. While it wasn’t your business to judge, you didn’t want to be married to someone who is a little too eager to get blood on his hands.

You made your way to his room, standing by the door as you watched Miguel slip on a fresh pair of pants and button-up shirt, something more suitable for dinner. Once he was finished, he took another look at you, furrowing his brows a bit.

“What?” You questioned.

“What are you wearing?”

“What do you mean ‘what are you wearing’?” You asked, looking down at your dress.

“Don’t you think that’s too revealing?” He asked.

“What? Revealing? Where? Don’t tell me showing a little leg and shoulder is prohibited. Come on! This is the height of fashion right now, as well as demonstrating body positivity.” Miguel simply gave you a look as if in disgust. Not for the body positivity part. But rather your fashion choices. He was aware of your family’s success in the fashion industry. He even applauded it. But, he was also a man with much simpler tastes. Tastes that you would sometimes groan over.

“Well, I’m not changing, so let’s just get going,” you said as you grabbed a shawl to compliment your dress, and to shut Miguel up.

The ride to the restaurant was quiet, save for the music that was playing on the radio. You two had very different music tastes. Not surprising. Sometimes you’d change the station or hook up your phone to Bluetooth. But, you tried to sit back and let him listen to his music this time.

When you two managed to get there, Miguel stopped in front of the valet and got out. The valet driver in-waiting opened the car door for you to help you get out as Miguel rounded the car, handing the keys over to the young man who then took the sleek black suv to the parking garage.

He gave you his arm to take. It had become routine. Show some sort of display of affection while in public. You never knew who could be watching. Sometimes cameras would pop out in front of you two.

The proposal was rushed. The engagement. The wedding. People grew suspicious, and rightfully so. Your families quickly came up with a story of how you and Miguel were seeing each other in secret despite the rivalry of the families. The alleged secrecy of romance and hurried marriage gave you two the the title of Romeo and Juliet. Two star-crossed lovers who went against all odds just to be together despite your families and their differences. But, unlike the story, your ending didn’t result in a double-suicide, but rather acceptance, wedding bells, and peace between the two families. Everyone bought it. Well..almost everyone.

As you two made your way inside and were greeted by the hostess, you were taken to a more secluded area of the restaurant. There, the table had been set up especially for you. A bottle of wine rested over a bed of ice, candles were lit on the table, as well as around the perimeter of your area. It would have been romantic, had you actually had romantic feelings for Miguel.

Still, he was a gentleman and he did go out of his way to reserve a nice place for you.

He pulled a chair out for you to sit and scooted you in before taking his seat across from you. The music from a live pianist in the main dining hall still reached your private area. Had it not been for them, the room would’ve been dead silent as you and Miguel silently looked through your menus.

“Can I pour you a glass of your wine?” A waitress asked onceshe approached your table. She was young. Tall and thin with big blue eyes and blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. And wearing way too much makeup. At least for your tastes.

You could see how she was looking at Miguel, batting her fake eyelashes. You thought they were either going to fall off or send her flying away. Either way, you simply rolled your eyes. You didn’t care if Miguel got hit on, but come on, at least not while you were right there to see.

“Yes, thank you,” Miguel said, giving her a charming smile. It made you roll our eyes again. Yes, he was being polite and all, but you could see right through him.

“Can I offer you both an appetizer to start?” She then asked, still looking over at Miguel.

Miguel then looked over to you, giving you a nod. “Would you like something to start with?”

”Yes, actually. Some bread for the table. they usually bring it out at the beginning,” you started. Which was true. You were just trying to be a little petty.

“And how about some crab cakes and a salad for the table?”

The waitress nodded her head, her smile now a straight line. So straight, you could swipe your card through it like a card reader.

“Yes, of course. I will put those in for you and bring you your bread,” she said before leaving the table.

You simply rolled your eyes once again as you settled back against your seat.

“How was lunch with your family?” Miguel then asked, trying to make conversation.

“It was fine,” you responded. Usually, your responses would be short, and Miguel wouldn’t entertain the topic further. You knew you should at least try to get along with him, giving that you are married and that you will be spending the rest of your life with him. You simply assumed that it just hadn’t kicked in yet. You were going to try, though.

One day.

“Ah, Mr. O’Hara! Mrs. O’Hara! A pleasure to see you two here tonight!” Someone behind you exclaimed. You could hear their heavy footsteps before turning around and seeing the owner and head chef of the restaurant. “Javier. A pleasure to see you,” Miguel said. “We were just celebrating my wife’s birthday.” “Ah! Of course! Happy birthday, Mrs. O’Hara. You look as stunning as ever,” Javier exclaimed. The man was five foot three, a mix of tan to sunburned skin, and all round. He kind of reminded you of the Pillsbury mascot. He looked so squishable and jolly.

“Actually, Javier. Would you mind me having a word with you, real quick?” Miguel then asked, scooted his chair back from the table and stood, easily towering over the man.

“O-oh! O-of cours! Of course! Come, come! Let’s step to the side,” Javier stated, now looking a little nervous as he led Miguel out of the room, leaving you alone.

All while Miguel was having his private conversation with Javier, the waitress came back with the bread and appetizers.

“We are going to need a couple of minutes,” you stated as she placed everything onto the tables.

“Of course! I’ll make my way back around in a few minutes,” the waitress said, giving you a tight-lipped smile.

You tried your best to not roll your eyes at her again as she left. Letting out a sigh, you decided to dig into the bread and appetizers. You sure weren’t going to wait for Miguel to come back to start eating. You never waited for him. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you knew you’d be waiting forever for him.

–

Soon enough, you were back home. You were still slightly curious about the conversation Miguel had with Chef Javier. But, you didn’t think you should press Miguel about it. Some things were meant to be kept in private. Besides, you wanted no part of this whole mafia stuff. It had stolen so much of your freedom already. You wanted to remain ignorant of what goes on behind closed doors as much as possible.

You both made your way upstairs, neither of you speaking as you made your way to your rooms for the night.

Tomorrow you were planning on heading over to the boutique. Your cousin was currently operating it and sometimes you’d go to help her out. It helped you get out of the house every once in a while. Plus, you were usually filled with inspiration when you were surrounded by your family’s clothing. You were still working on your portfolio to give out to various companies, in hopes they would hire you.

You were confident that they would. You were talented. Plus, you have your family’s name to back you up. Now, all you had to do was to make sure you get a good night’s rest so you could get up refreshed.

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o hara #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfic

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navybrat817 · 3 months

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Focus

Pairing: Motocross!Steve Rogers x Motocross!Female Reader Summary: You have a crush on Steve Rogers, but you don't think you're his type. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Crush, longing, slight insecurities, swearing, nicknames, Curtis is a good friend, Motocross!Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Finally an intro for Champ and Daisy in our Dialed In AU! Took me how long, @yenzys-lucky-charm ? Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated! ❤️

A 450 rider like Bucky with a lot of wins under his belt, Natasha was serious when she said Steve was one of the best riders in his class.

It was one of the reasons people called him “Champ”, a nickname he wasn’t overly fond of since some of the guys liked to tease him after races where he didn’t place first. It also gave him flashbacks of when he was younger and smaller, virtually ignored or told he wouldn’t excel in anything physically.

With a lot of heart and a late growth spurt, he proved them wrong.

Bucky said once that his nickname should be “Adonis” because of his now statuesque looks and the pit lizards fawning over him or “Golden Boy” because of his success and admiration.

Steve never let any of that get to his head and refused to let the pit lizards distract him. He worked hard to get where he was and continued to give it his all on and off the track every single time.

His determination was one of the many reasons you found yourself drawn to him. He was the kind of rider and person many aspired to be.

Your crush only grew the day you two actually met.

A rider yourself, you earned the nickname “Daisy” thanks to the flowers on your helmet and general sweet demeanor.

The helmet was the very thing Steve complimented you on when he walked by you at your first pro race.

You hadn’t meant to stare when he walked by, but his reputation preceeds him. Clad in red, white, and blue like a patriotic God, his blonde hair sparkled in the sunlight and his eyes looked like the sky on a cloudless day.

The sheer size of him almost made you whimper when he got closer. How a man was able to walk with such confidence and dominance yet still had an air about that said he was humble was a gift.

He even stopped to speak to a few kids who were eager to meet him and you couldn’t stop smiling when one little boy wrapped his arms around his legs in a tight hug.

Who wouldn’t fall for him?

You were certain you still had a dopey smile on your face when he looked your way.

“Beautiful.” The deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver down your spine when you realized he was speaking to you, which you tried to blame on pre-race jitters. “Your helmet. It’s beautiful,” he said when you didn’t reply.

You deflated slightly because of course he didn’t think you were beautiful. You were just a rider and not like the girls who flocked to him.

“Oh, thanks,” you croaked, clearing your throat immediately to try and save face. “I like daisies,” you added, mentally kicking yourself for stating the obvious. Why else would they be on your helmet?

The lopsided grin he gave you brought your smile back to your face. “You’re Daisy. Heard good things about you.”

Biting your lip and glancing away briefly, you didn’t catch his gaze following the movement. “You have?” You asked, slightly surprised that your name made the rounds.

“Yeah.” He nodded toward the track. “And I’m eager to see what you do out there.”

Your stomach did a somersault, but you held your head high. “I’ll try not to disappoint.”

“I doubt you could disappoint anyone,” he quietly spoke, looking over his shoulder when Bucky called out to him. “Gotta go. Good luck out there, Daisy.”

“Thanks, Champ,” you said, shifting back and forth on your feet when he stood up straight and flexed his gloved fingers. Maybe you shouldn’t have used his nickname. “I mean, Steve.”

You couldn’t read his expression, but you felt better when he gave you one more lopsided smile. “Champ sounds nice coming from you,” he said before he walked away.

You tried not to swoon or check out his ass when he went on his way, but Curtis clocked you immediately.

“You might wanna wipe that drool off your chin before your race,” he said, nudging you with his shoulder when you glanced at the ground. “Nervous? Don't be. You’re gonna kick ass out there.”

“Not nervous,” you said, biting your lip again. “He said he heard about me.”

“Yeah. Riders talk, you know that. And the guys saw you practice, so they know you have skills,” he said, sighing when you lifted your head and longingly stared after Steve. “Look, don’t let him distract you.”

“I’m not letting him distract me,” you argued, moving your helmet between your hands. “It’s just nice to get a compliment from such a skilled rider,” you said, especially since a lot of guys had a tendency to ignore you once they knew you loved to race.

Curtis narrowed his eyes. “I’m a skilled rider and I compliment you. I don’t see you walking around with hearts in your eyes and having a little crush on me.”

Your cheeks flamed before you hit his arm. “More like you bust my nonexistent balls. That’s not the same thing,” you said.

He didn’t move an inch when you hit him, the wall of muscle that he was. “Perk of being my friend,” he deadpanned, looking in the direction that Steve went, too. “I’m not one for gossip, but Champ is single.”

You put your helmet on so your friend couldn’t see your face. “Good to know, but I doubt I’m his type,” you said.

Because why would he like you?

“Rogers is a fucking idiot if he doesn’t want a girl like you,” he said sincerely before he hit your helmet with the palm of his hand, the familiar grumpy stare back on his face. “But enough of that shit. Get out there and win your fucking race.”

Which you did.

Steve's heart skipped a beat when you removed your helmet and smiled.

Because the truth was, you were exactly his type.

And he’d sweep you off your feet if you let him.

They're sweet, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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glowwithsophia · 1 month

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The Subtle Art of Becoming "That Girl" in 2024 🌸✨

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Hello beautiful souls! It's me, Sophia. If you are new reader then

Hi! I’m Sophia and I want to empower women to prioritize their well-being while pursuing their dreams🌟

Today, I woke up feeling extra inspired by the #thatgirl aesthetic. You know her – she's the girl who embodies self-love, radiates positivity, and just seems to have her life beautifully organized. Personally, I believe, she's not just a trend; she's a movement towards becoming the best version of ourselves. And guess what? Becoming "that girl" isn't about perfection; it's about progress. It's about embracing the journey of self-improvement, self-care, and love. So, let's dive into a few ways you can bring a little bit of "that girl" magic into your everyday life:

1. Morning Rituals ✨

Start your day with purpose. Whether it's a morning skincare routine, meditation, or writing down your thoughts in a daily planner, find what centers you. If you have been following me for a while then you know how important this is. Remember, it's these small rituals that set the tone for a productive, positive day.

2. Self-Care Sundays 🛁

Dedicate time each week to pamper yourself. This could be a long bath, a skincare routine, or even a cozy evening with a book. It's all about showing yourself some love and appreciation.

I remember back in my childhood my older sister used to always have pamper sundays and I would always try and follow her footsteps however, back then your girl was as lazy as one can be...so zero exceptions. Be better than me girls and make the future you be proud.

3. Clean Girl Aesthetic 🌿

Embrace the clean girl aesthetic with a minimalist wardrobe, clean makeup looks, and a tidy space. A clutter-free environment not only looks good but also brings a sense of calm and order to your mind. Clean home = clean mind + remember clean body

4. Find Your Fitness Love 💕

Whether it's pink pilates, yoga, or a brisk walk in the park, find a physical activity that you love. It's not just about the physical benefits but the mental clarity and energy boost it brings.

5. Nourish to Flourish 🍓

Eating well is a form of self-respect. Fill your plate with colors, textures, and nutrients. It's not just about looking good, but feeling good from the inside out.

6. Learn and Grow 🌱

Embrace new hobbies, read more books, and challenge yourself to learn something new often. Growth is a huge part of becoming "that girl".

7. Stay Organized 📒

Invest in a good daily planner to keep track of your goals, appointments, and to-dos. There's something incredibly satisfying about ticking off tasks and staying on top of your game.

And here's a little secret for you: part of my "that girl" journey includes creating pieces that speak to my soul. I stumbled upon this adorable Etsy shop aka my Etsy Shop [GlowInGrow] that just screams self-care and love. My THAT GIRL planner is something that I did with love and my own hands. For me, it's not just a planner, it's my way of helping others because that's what being her is. Being her means she shares her secrets to help the rest of the girlies. MESSAGE ME FOR THE PROMO CODE *hint*

Also this planner has got you covered from setting your intentions and tracking your habits to planning your meals and self-care routines perfect for anyone looking to add that extra touch of mindfulness and beauty to their daily routine. It's subtle, but oh, so beautiful. 🌟

AND REMEMBER;

Becoming "that girl" isn't an overnight transformation. It's about making small, meaningful changes that align with who you are and who you aspire to be. Let's embrace this journey together, one step at a time. 💕

Last but not least, at the end of your journey of becoming that girl awaits the future who is The Girl!

Stay safe and stay hot...

With Love, Sophia

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lily-s-world · 19 days

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Truly love Bridgerton, it is my comfort show. But I always have trouble with people on the fandom, throwing to the ground female characters just because they have strong personalities or raise their voices when they are mad.

I love Kanthony, but Edwina had every right to be mad at them for not being honest about their feelings. They both continued with the marriage idea even though they were clearly in love. My girl had valid reasons to throw tantrums at them.

And now with this new trailer and everybody attacking Eloise. The Eloise whose reputation almost got destroyed by Lady Whistledown, only for her to find out that it had been her best friend all along. She also had every right to be furious at Penelope. And yes, Eloise also has her list of mistakes and bad traits she needs to work on; which is also fair that Penelope isn't her biggest fan right now. They are both characters making mistakes that they need to learn from.

Not to mention these characters are supposed to be in their late teens/early 20s. Didn't you go to high school and saw at first glance girls behavior when they were mad at each other?

This is what multi-faceted female characters sometimes look like. They can make mistakes, they can raise their voices, they can create chaos, they can hurt people unintentionally... all is part of the process of character development. You can't create growth in a character if they always do the right thing or are always perfect.

Don't ask for strong female characters if you are going to attack them the moment they show up.

#bridgerton #edwina sharma #eloise bridgerton #penelope featherington #Kanthony #polin #kate sharma #anthony bridgerton #female representation #lady whistledown

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kagu-une · 25 days

Text

you and mingi have been friends since childhood; you thought that you knew everything there was to know about him. there is just one secret: he's in love with you, and the feelings may be reciprocated.

pairing. song mingi x fem!reader

genre. smut mature themes ahead. minors do not interact.

content warnings. another friends-to-lovers trope (i'm not sorry). non-idol!au. dom!mingi. sub!reader. desperate sex? idk how to put it, you'll see. possible jealousy? possessive!mingi. fingering (f receiving). use of pet names such as 'baby'', 'good girl'. gentle degradation?? praise. big pp!mingi...... unprotected sex (use protection or Else). a little teenie weenie bit of plot. ahem. anyways

a/n. it seems that i write best at the ass crack of dawn, or in a (nonexistent) time crunch. anyways this is a drabble that's been living in my fully furnished frontal lobe for a while, hope it lives up to your expectations @lissiesykes :p this has not been proofread btw

smut beneath the drop down!

it was the same saturday ritual that has carried on for years since you started college and moved into your own apartment: your best friend, mingi, would come over and the two of you would waste the evening away by rotting on your couch, and forcing him to watch whatever series was your newest hyperfixation.

this saturday was no different. you had long since showered and changed into a pair of dilapidated sweatpants, and a shirt that you were sure was mingi's, but figured it shrunk in the dryer. you had just finished the usual routine of microwaving a bag of popcorn when you heard a familiar knock at your door. setting the bag of popcorn on the counter to cool off, you padded across the living room to answer the door. behind it stood mingi, his large stature easy filling up the doorframe. though you watched him hit his growth spurts as a kid, his height always caught you by surprise.

"hey!" you greeted him with a soft smile, stepping off to the side to allow him to enter your apartment.

"hey," replied he as he entered, kicking his shoes off by the door. he shrugged off the hoodie that he wore as he made his way into the living room and tossed it over the back of the sofa. "it smells good in here."

you chuckle to yourself as you close the door and lock the deadbolt; mingi said the same thing every time he stepped foot into your home, even though you made the same snacks nearly every time.

"i'd hope so... it's popcorn." you had returned to the kitchen to grab a bowl from a cabinet, and proceeded to dump the popcorn into it now that it was cool enough to handle. "we're almost done with ratched, is it cool if we finish it tonight?"

mingi had since made himself comfortable on the couch, stretching his legs out to rest against the coffee table. he turned to face you from his seat as you spoke. "of course, i was looking forward to the finale, anyways."

he took it upon himself to turn the television on, knowing you'd be joining him on the couch soon enough. he launched netflix and clicked your profile, scrolling until he found the 'recently watched' section. mingi selected the show and got comfortable in his seat. you hurried to your spot next to him, snacks in hand as the introduction to the show began to play on the tv screen.

the show had long since ended, and the two of you weren't quite ready to call it quits just yet; so, you were both facing each other, having a rather lively conversation about something that had transpired in your younger years.

"dude," mingi let out an exasperated laugh as he carded a hand through his hair. "you totally froze when you tried to ask that guy out for prom. what was his name again? hongjoong?"

you groan out in residual embarrassment, hiding your face in your hands to conceal the blush that rose on your cheeks. "do you have to remind me? god, i bet he was just as embarrassed," your voice came out muffled as you spoke into your palms.

mingi's fingers curled around your wrists and pulled your hands away, laughs still bubbling past his lips. "c'mon, y/n, it isn't that bad. when is your date with him anyways?"

your ears picked up on the jealousy that tinged his voice when he brought up the fact that, yes, you did have a date with hongjoong coming up. you had reconnected with him after seeing him on a dating app. curiosity got the best of you and you swiped right — it was a match! you brought it up to mingi last saturday, and you swore that you saw his shoulders deflate just a little when you told him. you decided not to bring it up, but you couldn't help but to think that mingi looked dejected when he left that night. maybe you were thinking too much into it.

"on wednesday, i think– why does it matter to you?"

"awe," whatever hint of jealousy that you think you heard was now drowned in a playful tone. "are you getting shy?"

mingi leaned over to poke you and tickle your side, which earned a shriek from you as you launched yourself backwards to get out of his arm's reach. you batted his hand away once your back was pressed into the opposing arm of the couch. it didn't take much for mingi to close that gap, reaching for your sides once more. somehow you both got into some sort of one-upping-wrestling-match — you trying to get away from mingi, who was dead set on trying to tickle you — that landed you both on the floor.

mingi took the upper hand as he straddled your waist, and pinning your wrists to the rug beneath you. a triumphant smile was plastered on the cheeky bastard's face — he knew he had won. the two of you mirrored each other's labored breathing as you looked up at the man above you, eventually locking eyes.

the same man that got to watch you grow up, and you, him.

the same man who, when your first boyfriend broke your heart, mingi broke his nose.

mingi, who would schedule his weekends to make time for you.

mingi, with that same lazy smile that he's always had. the same smile that caused your heart to skip a beat in your chest.

the realization that you were in love with your best friend hit you like a freight train. as your eyes dipped to his plump lips, you wondered what this meant for your friendship. the last thing you wanted was to lose your best friend.

you sucked in a breath that you hadn't realized you were holding, and that soft noise is what set things into motion. mingi lowered himself on top of you, closing the gap between your bodies. his lips crashed onto yours with a ferocity that you've never seen from mingi before.

you whimper softly, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and yanking it on it. mingi understood what was being asked and pulled away to remove it. this allowed you to catch your breath... and for reality to come crashing down on you.

"mingi," you breathed out, your meek plea too quiet for him to hear over the roar of his own heartbeat in his ears.

he pulled his shirt off and tossed it to the side, before leaning forward to hover over you again, each of his hands posted on either side of your head. you did your best to keep your gaze off of his newly exposed skin.

you repeated, "mingi." it caught his attention now, mingi's eyebrow raising. "we can't do this." you didn't mean a word that came out of your mouth, but the disquietudes that swirled in your head told you to believe otherwise.

"goddamn it, y/n." he almost sounded defeated.

him cursing caught you off guard. it wasn't that you had never heard mingi cuss, because you had and did; but, never at you.

"don't you get it?" his voice was small, almost a whisper. "i love you. i've been in love with you for so long, y/n."

the confession caused your stomach to flip. whether it be out of excitement or fear was to be determined.

"i watch as you choose other people knowing that i can treat you right. i know you, y/n. everything about you. i was made for you."

mingi's face closed in on yours, and the fact that you weren't protesting only encouraged him to continue.

"no one understands you like i do. no one can make me feel so alive like you can. i don't want to live with the regret of knowing that i never tried. i need this for me." his breath fanned your face as he spoke.

his lips were brushing yours by this point. there was no denying the emotions that buzzed between you both. your hands snaked around his shoulders and pulled him forward, officially sealing your fate.

there was no time wasted from here. mingi's mouth connects with yours fiercely. his kiss instantly becomes intense as he lowers himself onto his elbows, allowing him to cradle your head in one of his hands. his fingers grip at your hair, anchoring your head back. when a soft moan slips out of you is when he plunges his tongue into your mouth. mingi moves with passion, and hope; yet, is far more calculated in his movements than you expected.

you lift your legs up to remind him that he is still sitting on you. one of his chuckles falls against your lips as he shifts his weight, using his knees to push your thighs apart and slots himself in the space between them.

when he pulls away, a string of saliva beads between your bottom lips. you break it with your finger as mingi moves to tug at your sweatpants. from your position, you could see that a tent of arousal began to form in the crotch of mingi's jeans. with the joggers out of the way, mingi could see how your panties clung to your core, your arousal blooming on the gusset.

"you have no idea how often i've thought of you like this." admitted mingi, that shit eating grin returning to his plump lips. he trailed a finger over your clothed slit, eyes flicking up to your face to watch your reactions to his touch. noting how you arched your back to chase the feeling, he tugged your panties to the side.

a shiver raced through you once your cunt was exposed, though you blushed feverishly underneath mingi's scrutiny. he continued to toy with you, leisurely and with no hurry. he dipped a finger to your entrance, only to collect your juices on his fingertips and repeat the process.

"don't be a tease, mingi," you whined out in protest, reaching down to lead his hand where you needed them most. you couldn't help but to be impatient. mingi's hands were always nice, and they had recently occupied your mind when you touched yourself.

"oh?" he asked, rhetorically. to pacify your whines, he pushed a finger into you, but held it there at the second knuckle. his thumb took position over your clit and applied enough pressure to make you shudder. "how bad do you want it, then?"

you were in no position to beg to begin with, and mingi knew it. the lack of friction was driving you crazy, but when you decided to gyrate your hips to seek out the pleasure, mingi pinned your hips down to the ground. his hand pressed into your belly, his eyes narrowing in an unspoken dare.

"tell me how bad, baby."

then he began to move his finger inside of you. at first, they were short strokes with him curling it every so often. his thumb had resorted to gentle circles against your clit.

though, when you hadn't spoken to oblige his request, another finger was added. you moaned softly as you were stretched out. usually, two fingers weren't enough to make you feel full. with mingi, however, it was just right.

he began to pull his fingers out of you, stopping just before he left you completely empty — only to thrust them back into you, bottoming out to his knuckles.

you let out a strangled cry, trying to press your knees together from the stimulation but the way mingi had you pinned made it impossible to achieve. he leaned into his hand, beginning to open you up with his fingers.

"please- fuck- mingi!" you managed, throwing your head back at the pleasure.

"there you go, y/n, i knew you could beg for it." mingi's eyes were trained on his hand, watching as your pussy swallowed his fingers up. "i make you feel so good, don't i? look at how wet you are."

you nod fervently, clinging onto every word that left his mouth. "please, mingi... i-... i need you so bad. so bad." you weren't meaning to babble so mindlessly. everything about this situation had your head reeling.

"good fucking girl." he punctuated every one of his words with deep thrusts of his fingers into you. you knew that if he kept it up at this pace, you wouldn't last much longer; even more so when he used his free hand to massage your clit.

the familiar heat began to pool in your stomach. every nerve was alive, your skin crawling with electricity. "m... mingi, i'm so close..." your eyes screwed shut as you tried your best to postpone the impending orgasm.

mingi was a man on a mission as he began to mouth at your breasts through your shirt. you pulled it up and out of the way, pushing your bra down so that your breasts were bare. his eyes drank in the sight of you as more of your body was exposed. he was a starving man sat before a feast. his plush lips closed around one of your nipples, sucking it between his teeth and rolling it between them. you cried out, your hands finding their way into mingi's hair and tugging at it.

the heat licked at your belly and spread down to your thighs as your climax closed in on you. you tried to warn him, but you were only left with your jaw slack as your orgasm rocked your body. stars studded the corners of your vision as your muscles tensed.

mingi fingered you through your orgasm, cooing sweetly into your ear as you rode your high. "you're so beautiful, all for me. all mine. you belong to me."

he didn't give you much time to recuperate from your previous orgasm before he was doffing his pants and sliding his own boxers down his thighs. with how hard he was, you could only imagine the restraint he was using before.

nothing could have prepared you to see that mingi was well endowed. you were grateful for him opening you up earlier, as you were unsure if he'd fit at all. you weren't clueless when it came to sex, but none of your previous partners were quite as big as be was.

he turned to grab a throw pillow off of the couch, motioning for you to bridge your hips. once you did, he slid the pillow beneath you. "there you go." he squeezes your bare thigh in reassurance.

your skin was warm and damp from the exertion from your previous orgasm. your pussy ached to be filled again, and you could only press your legs farther apart as mingi grasped the base of his cock and dragged his tip between your drenched folds. you shiver under his touch, especially when the head of his cock teased your hole.

mingi knew he was on borrowed time. he wanted to get inside of you before he went off like a shotgun, seeing how turned on he was from watching you come undone all over his fingers; yet, he wanted to savor the moment as long as he could. he wasn't quite convinced that this wasn't another wet dream of his. to wake up now would be so unbelievably cruel.

he eased himself into you, eyes oscillating between your pussy and your face. above all else, your safety was his main priority. every cry and whimper was a sign for him to stop, and wait until you gave a signal that you had acclimated to him stretching you out. eventually, he hit the hilt of his cock. his hips pressed against yours as he leaned forward to capture your lips in a kiss.

you caught his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging on it and watching as it snapped back into place. from here, you realized how beautiful that mingi truly was. his bone structure and perfectly pouty lips, and eyes that could pierce right through you.

those pouty lips were drawn into a soft smirk when you pulled away from the kiss. you nodded and shifted your hips, giving mingi the go-head to start moving.

his movements were slow and careful. his honeyed gaze boring a hole straight through you as he watched you take every inch of him. you sucked in a sharp breath through your teeth, but soon the pain dissolved into wanton pleasure and need. you wrapped your legs around him as his tempo began to increase, motivating mingi to speed up.

soon, the only sounds that filled the apartment was skin against skin, and how when he angled his hips just right, turned your individual moans into high pitched whines.

mingi straightened his posture, only to grab your hips and pull you into each thrust that he delivered to you. he was desperate to feel you, desperate to get your walls to remember the shape of him. his eyebrows were knitted together with focus. a bead of sweat trailed from his forehead to his jaw.

"gonna split you in half if i have to," he muttered between heavy pants. "you're mine, y/n."

you had clamped a hand over your mouth to muffle the cries and moans that tumbled from your lips. you were sure that you'd get a noise complaint from the apartment complex tomorrow. the way mingi had you positioned made it so that with every stroke of his dick, he was ramming right into your g-spot. you blinked away tears that threatened to spill as you took what he gave you.

"do you hear me? mine." he was starting to get sloppy as he neared his own orgasm. he pressed your thighs up against your chest as he drilled into you, chasing his own orgasm. "fuck- mine. mine, mine, mine." he chanted the word like it was a mantra.

your core was tightening in another climax.

"mingi... please- i'm yours—.." you mumbled between whines and hiccups. "'m gonna cum,"

mingi's hand returned to your belly, pressing into it and earning a yelp from you. feeling his cock as it fucked you open was overstimulating. all you could manage to do was whimper and writhe beneath him.

"are you going to cum all over– fuck..– this dick? cum for me, pretty girl."

as soon as you tipped over the edge with your own orgasm, mingi's followed suit. his whole body stiffened as he came, a shiver wracking his spine as a pinched moan escaped him. your head was still swimming with pleasure as mingi stuffed you full of his seed.

you both sat still for a few moments following, the two of you catching your breaths. mingi eventually slides out of you, leaving you feeling oddly void inside. he stood, and your gaze followed him as he disappeared into the back of your apartment. once he came back, he had fixed his clothes to cover himself once again. he was carrying a warm washcloth that he used to help you wipe yourself clean.

he joined you in the floor again, laying on his side so that his torso was pressed against your side. he peppered gentle kisses along the side of your face, carefully brushing strands of hair back into place. your body was heavy, and your eyes were half lidded from physical expenditure that took place. you turned to snuggle into mingi's chest, draping an arm over his side.

"mingi." you decided to break the silence, not yet leaving the cover of his chest to meet his eyes.

"yes, y/n?"

"i love you, too. so much. forever." the confession felt natural on your tongue. only then did you decide to tilt your head back to look at him. he wore a goofy smile on his face, now wearing his own flush on his cheeks at your revelation.

"forever." mingi echoed, drawing you into his embrace once more. you welcomed his warmth. when you nuzzled your face into him, his scent wrapped around you.

you could get used to this.

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1for5 · 17 days

Text

yes im changing

paige bueckers x reader

(paige x uconn psychology student!reader)

synopsis: with y/n being in a new environment, still facing rejection, how can she bounce back?

masterlist

chapter 1

“we regret to inform you that..” y/n’s eyes start to tear up as she reads her rejection letter from her dream school: stanford university. she plans to take psychology, and stanford is a perfect university for her growth. the dream started ever since she was born, as her father’s alma mater was stanford. y/n’s father died early, and she wanted to make him proud.

“no no no no no” y/n says in disbelief. how was she not accepted? a perfect gpa, and a 1500+ on her sat. she had good extracurriculars as well, being in the lab 24/7. her essay was proofread a thousand times as well.

the girl cried, rushing to her mom for comfort. “mom, i have bad news” she said. “oh honey, what is it?” the mom replied.

“i didn’t get into stanford, im so sorry” y/n teared up again, hugging her mom. “its okay, it just means that God has better plans for you in another schoool. im sure your dad is still so proud of you” y/n’s mom comforted her.

after a night full of cries, y/n looked at her options. she is always one to plan immediately. but this one will take her awhile, as college is well, college. she opened her laptop, with the screen showing her notes app stating:

stanford: rejected

upenn: waitlisted

lsu: accepted

iowa: accepted

sdsu: accepted

ucla: waitlisted …

then a notification popped: uconn application results are out. her heart started pumping, she applied to uconn as it was near, and it was her mother’s alma mater.

she opened the site, with the screen saying:

CONGRATULATIONS!

y/n smiled with joy, and the smiled widened as the school is offering her a scholarship.

after a month, she weighed her options, and went to the different schools she was accepted in for a tour. she loved sdsu’s campus, and loved the school spirit of iowa. but she loved uconn the most. a calm campus, and a great school spirit as well.

she decided to go to uconn and major in psychology. a good school, near home, and a scholarship. it was her best option. but that isnt her end plan. she plans on reaching high during her freshman year, and transfer to stanford for sophomore year.

fast forward to her first day, which was full of orientations. during lunch, she bumped into another girl. they both said their “sorry”s and realized that they were both freshmans in psychology. the girl’s name was peyton, who accompanied y/n for the rest of the day. y/n knew that peyton will be a good friend.

as they go back to their dorms, they passed the building of the basketball court. “oh my goddd! do you know the women’s basketball team? i love them! i have a crush on one player” peyton mentioned. y/n wasn’t really fond of basketball. “no, not really..” y/n replied.

 as they walk pass, the basketball team goes out of the building, still playing with a basketball. they played with the basketball a little too hard.. as the ball hit y/n’s head, making her fall down.

y/n was outrageous, who plays basketball just around? she got up and looked behind who threw the ball. she saw 5 people, 5 tall people, and got eye contact with a blonde who she assumed threw the ball.

“excuse me?”

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #uconn huskies #wlw #paige bueckers x reader

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beesfixations · 3 months

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LET'S TALK ABOUT THE PERCY JACKSON SHOW

FIRST!:

rick (WRITER OF THE BOOKS AND THE SHOW) said that the show was BETTER! in all aspects, and if you're mad that it's not EXACTLY like the book— then go read the damn book idk. y'all always got something to bitch and moan about but the series was amazing! the actors, the cgi, the writing— it was top notch. money well spent, EASILY. a little rushed? maybe but considering the first book wasn't that eventful it doesn't matter. plus you can't necessarily put out 40-60 min eps for a show meant for KIDS and it's only the first season 💀 not only that but you can't expect the kids on set to work for that long for hours AND months on end, there are laws about this, people!!

NEXT!:

"the actors blond, they expect me to like it?". IT?! THATS A FUCKING CHILD. and get over yourself bruh💀💀 literally WHO are you and who do you think you are to be having this much fucking audacity talking about a CHILD (walker who was like 12 at the time and he's now 15, mind you) get over it???? it's truly not that deep. y'all cry about silly little book inaccuracies like this but completely forget your ass is reading about a 12 year old who's half-god and half-mortal and hes fighting monsters, titans and gods and he has a saytr best friend while the entry way to olympus is in NEW YORK instead of Greece.

dear lord y'all need to please stop embarrassing yourselves. and YES the "they're kids!" excuse can be used! bc they were— and STILL are. you can't expect kids to be perfect all the damn time and if you got off your high horse, you'd see that they did REALLY well. especially when this was one of the most serious jobs they've EVER had. not only that, the cast is perfect. practically fell out of the book. y'all just mad Beth isn't some blonde white girl and grover has little to no growth or personality.

Furthermore!:

of course everyone is allowed to like and dislike what they want, but let's not sit here and act like your shitty grievences are not petty, annoying, stupid and racist.

Get over it— disrespectfully, anyways, in conclusion, the show is amazing— the movies were bad, if you're mad, read the fucking book and walker, leah and aryan did SO well! hope their careers flourish<3

thanks for coming to my ted talk!!!

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nanaminsmoon · 10 months

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hiiii, so sorry if this is a lil long but bare w me pls, i love ur writing btw <3

ok: reader & plug!ony broke up about a year ago bc of something ony did (something bad but not like 100% unforgivable) but the feelings never left. he’s been tryna get her back over the year but she wasn’t budging cus she hadn’t seen any growth. recently tho she’s noticed he’s growing & she misses him. then at a function, she sees him pop out w a new girl & all their friends are staring at her like waiting for a reaction and in a littleee moment of jealousy, she goes up to ony like “you’re mine for life right?” and he jumps away from the other girl so fast like he BEEN waiting on this news 😭😭

omg thank you!! i was about to write something just like this but this is so much better!! i hope you like it and i'm sorry it took so long i just wanted it to be okay😭

cw: kinda angsty, oral (f receiving), car sex, ony calls reader 'ma', n word usage, mentions of breeding.

wc: 3913

atonement is hardly ever easy, and ony knew that first-hand. closing the gap between you and the person you once held closest to you can, surprisingly, be very difficult. even if a year of ‘separation’ is spent showing up at your ex-lovers’ door, or workplace, nail tech, or hair lady’s house. sometimes getting back to where you once where is needlessly difficult. especially if your definitions of said place are vastly different.

from the outside looking in, you and ony’s relationship had been picture perfect. he loved you as much as you loved him, and he wasn’t shy about it. everyone knew not to even look at you wrong, because they knew that they would have ony to deal with—and no one fucked with ony’s girl. except for him. because that picture had been held by a fraudulent frame; purposely hung over the large dent in your relationship. that being, his occupation.

from small kickbacks, to rich white kids who want to snort rebellion off their house keys, everyone had one thing in common—ony. no party started until ony got there and, as happy as you were for him, that didn’t come without its burdens. ony was almost always out dealing, giving you very little quality time to hang out. on the few occasions you got his undivided attention for more than a few hours, your peace would be interrupted by the ear-splitting noise erupting from his stupid nokia burner phone.

of course, small huffs of disappointment would slip past your lips when he told you that he had to leave. but you were used to it now, and that’s what helped ony sleep at night; knowing that you had become inured to his disconcerting disappearances, and abrupt reappearances. you knew that other people needed him, even if it meant that your needs were temporarily pushed aside. one time you had asked him, why it always had to be him that they called, and his response had been:

”my shit is the best, ma.”, said through a chortle, as he put his shoes on by your front door.

”i get that, but what about me?”, your arms crossed, as you tilted your head at your man—ony’s weakness. once you did that, with that look in your eyes, he couldn’t say no to you. but tonight, his priorities were different.

just let me do what i gotta do, and i’ll come right back to you. then i’m yours for the whole night.”, he had reassured, kissing your temple.

”just for the night?”, you scoffed.

”for life. now stay here, and i’ll be back.”, and that would appease you for the evening. but there’s only so much cracking one heart can do, before no adhesive can keep it whole, and it shatters into a million pieces. that night, you stripped yourself of ony’s shirt you had been wearing, and threw it into the corner of your bedroom; it smelt too much like him, and you hated it.

harmless hatred became deep disdain on the evening of your birthday. you had organised a dinner for a few of your closest friends and family, and had vehemently stressed to ony that he had to be there on time. because, if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t just be wasting your time, but he’d be wasting that of those closest to you as well. and he had promised you that if there’s something that had to be handled during the time of your dinner, he’d get connie or eren to do it so he could be with you. but 15 minutes of waiting for him became 30. and 30 soon became an hour, and your friends grew reasonably irate due to hunger. so you said they could order, and you’d just call ony one more time. but in a time where all you wanted to hear was your boyfriend’s voice, all you were met with was rings on the other line. that sound resounded all over the side of your face. and that feeling grew once the realisation hit that had you been a client, he wouldn’t have let the phone ring for more than five seconds. and that gave you a lot to think about.

you didn’t know how long the dinner lasted because your focus had remained on keeping your tears from falling into your food. you hated how pitiful you looked, lifting your head up every time someone walked into the restaurant, and the crestfallen expression that landed on your face each time you saw it wasn’t ony. it made no sense to you how the man who swore he would do anything for you, the man who placed a band on your ring finger, promising you that one day he’d marry you. the man who swore he had never loved anyone more than you, refused to put you before something so fleeting.

ony finally did show up though…two hours after the dinner had ended. heartbroken cries in your bedroom, had constantly been interrupted by calls coming from ony’s contact. but every single one went unanswered; he needed to feel what you felt when he had embarrassed you in front of your loved ones. though mere missed calls could never compare to the taste of your celebratory dinner food meshing awkwardly with the swallowed cries in your throat, you had to make him feel a morsel of the anguish he had put you through.

if ony could’ve gone full 2000s rnb music video; shirtless, singing outside your window with his chain blowing in the windy rain, he would’ve done. he would’ve even started throwing pebbles if he could, but your apartment was too high on your building. so he just settled on incessantly pressing the button next to your door number. and, after the nth try, you opened the door for him and he ran inside—pressing the elevator button a thousand times once he got in. and, just as he was about to knock on the door, it opened. and you stood on the other side, utterly unimpressed; bonnet on, your own pyjamas (instead of one of his shirts), and eyes reddened by tears. the impact caused by his heart unceremoniously dropping to the pit of his stomach caused a soft sigh to leave his mouth. then his lips began moving to explain himself.

“look, i'm sorry. i lost track of ti—”, his explanations were waved off—your own thoughts outweighing whatever he had to say to you.

“we're done, ony.”, was all you said to him before closing the door, and ony’s brain turned off, then back on again because what the fuck did you just say??

“y/n, open the door”, he banged on the door. and, not wanting any noise complaints, you opened it.

“what?”, you scowled.

“the fuck you mean done? talk to me”, ony’s hand reached out to yours, but quickly retreated when you pulled back from him. you had never done that; even when you were mad at him, you at least gave him a chance to get back into your good books again.

“you missed my birthday dinner, ony”, your voice was small, tears about to fall yet again.

“i know, and i'm sor—”,

“two years in a row.”,

“like i said, i'm sor—”,

“and my graduation, the party we had when i finally got my drivers license, the lunch you promised me on my first day at my new job. and you were meant to be my date at my sisters wedding.”, every example was punctuated by your fingertip harshly poking at his chest, and the tears just started falling on their own.

“i'm sorry, y/n”, ony’s voice started cracking, as his hand embraced the hand you had been poking him with.

“sorry isn't good enough anymore, ony. i deserve someone who prioritises me”,

“but everything i do is for us.”, he kissed your hand, “imma use this money to buy you ever—”,

“do you not understand that i don't want your money or gifts? i want you, ony.”, your breathed out, exasperation deeply set in your voice, and in your slumping posture, “anyone could give me bags and shoes, ony. but only you could give me your time. but you won’t, and that's the problem”

“so what, this is it?”,

“until you figure yourself out, yeah.”, you slid your hand from him, “it pains me because i love you so much, but i can’t keep living like this. if you're not ready for a girlfriend then you should've never got with me”

“but i am ready”, he pleaded.

“then act like it.”. were the words that echoed in ony’s head every time he showed up to the places he saw you posting on your story—heart holding hopes that your paths would cross. you didn’t know how he did it, but ony became your shadow for nearly the whole year you spent separated. even when you told him to give it up, he refused; sending bouquets of flowers to your workplace every few days, talking to you through your friends and family, and even showing up to your job to make up for that lunch he promised you. it hurt you to turn him away when you could see in his eyes that he would give up the world to have you in his orbit again. but, when you would ask him about where he got the money to even buy you these flowers in the first place, his silence was very telling.

but word on the street was that ony was a changed man now. your sources told you that he wasn’t dealing as much, and he had gotten a job. those sources being his instagram story that you watched through a burner account. seeing him everywhere made it impossible for you to wash yourself of him completely, so desparate times called for desparate measures. you missed that man so much, it was driving you crazy. it pissed you off seeing him being the man you had asked him to be, but not having the chance to bask in his progress. your love for ony wouldn’t vanish overnight, but it sure as hell hadn’t faded in the year you had been separated either. you kept his shirts and hoodies, and the promise ring he bought you was still on your finger.

so elated didn’t even begin to explain the feeling in your chest when, upon arriving at some house party, one of your girls told you that ony was there too. you tried to not seem so eager, but you had no control over your heart beating rapidly at the idea that you might see him again. all you needed was for him to apologise one more time, and you’d be all his. that was until you came to find that there was a hole blocking your reunion—that hole being in the shape of some girl giggling in his face, as his arm sat around her waist. every fibre of your being urged you to stomp over there, and scream his ear off. but he wasn’t your man anymore so there was nothing you could do but kiss your teeth and glower that them.

no man, not even ony, could get in the way of you and your friends enjoying yourselves. so that’s exactly what you did. for an hour, or two, ony didn’t exist and you just laughed and danced with your friends. however, the end of that would be marked when you stood, talking some guy you had just met, and one of your friends nudged you and nodded in ony’s direction.

“that doesn't bother you?”, she asked, obviously asking about the girl sat on ony’s lap.

“why would it?”, you shrugged back.

“you ain't say you missed the nigga?”, your other friend chimed in.

“okay? that doesn't mean i want him back”, you lied through your teeth.

“so you’re just missing him as hobby?”, sasha laughed.

“leave me alone.”, you chided, and your friends dropped the whole thing. but you wished those saltine whispers of jealousy would leave your eyes, and let you at least pretend to enjoy yourself in peace.

and if it wasn’t them ruining your fun, it was the girl’s friends staring at you.

“why are her friends looking at me?”, you whispered to connie. he had come over to speak to you, and that had caught ony’s attention. mainly because he wondered why you were willing to speak to his friend, but not him.

“they’re gloating.”, connie put a comforting arm around you, and pulled you closer to himself.

“well, tell them to stop.”, as if you could feel ony’s eyes on you, you moved connie’s arm from you, and connie laughed before putting it back where it was.

“they won’t. in their mind, she stole ony from you.”, he explained, and you scoffed.

“pfft, i could get that nigga back anytime i wanted”, you retorted, earning some knowing looks from your friends, before unprecedented words fell from sasha’s mouth.

“then do it.”, she nudged you, “you keep saying you want him so bad, go get him. he’s your man. go collect him”, that didn’t sound like a suggestion, it sounded like a dare. and you were never one to back down from a dare.

“fuck it”.

you didn’t know where your strides were leading you until you were barging past ony’s friends to link your arm around his own. at first, his body went into fight or flight because he thought he was about to be robbed, then calm came in the sound of your voice,

“ony, baby, where did you go? i've been looking for you everywhere”, you made sure to stick yourself onto him, and he didn’t move from you because he was too busy comprehending what the fuck was going on.

“y/n?”,

“i thought you guys were done?”, miss.whatever-her-name-was, linked ony’s other arm with her own, and pulled him towards herself.

“yeah, so did i”, ony spoke under his breath, looking down at you in bewilderment as he thought to himself; ”how much did i fucking smoke?”.

“who’s done?”, you looked up at him, “you’re mine for life, right?”, you pouted up at him, and all those memories of that night he had promised you he wouldn’t be long, came flooding back—ony folded immediately.

“always.”, he grinned at you, simultaneously yanking his arm away from whatever her name was.

“ony?”, she complained—now it was your turn to gloat.

“what?”, he sneered at her.

“you told me you guys were done”, she whined, and he rolled his eyes at her.

“well then don’t believe everything a nigga tells you”, was his final rebuttal before he pulled you outside.

at first, you just sat in silence, taking in the cool summer breeze. but ony had questions and, more importantly, he wanted to hear your voice.

“you forgive me then?”, his elbow gently met your arm.

“who said that?”, you stared down at your feet, kicking into the ground beneath you.

“you don't forgive me but you wanna do all that shit back there?”, he laughed.

“she didn't look good for you”, you finally looked up at him, and ony just laughed at you.

“you don't know her”,

“i just got that vibe”, you feigned a shudder, eyes still on him.

“what'd you really want, y/n?”, his index finger lifted your chin.

“you.”, your frank demeanour, and sincere eye contact, blew ony’s eyes wide open.

“well, you got me.”, as much as ony had changed in that year, his love for you remained incorrigible, and he’d be dumb to try and convince you otherwise. so he wouldn’t; he’d been wanting you back for far too long, and he’d finally gotten what he wanted.

“that easy?”, you teased.

“even if you’re not mine, i’ll always be yours, y/n. you know that”, ony’s words directed themselves at your lips; brown irises stuck onto your shining gloss.

“well then…can i be yours again?”, you muttered apprehensively, and the pause after that comment was unreadable.

“y’don’t even have to ask, c’mere”, ony reached his hand out to you.

gentle fingers, interlocked with yours, led you out of the party, and down a road that would end at ony’s car—parked overlooking the local area. he wasted no time; unlocking it before opening the back door, and gesturing for you to get in.

"already? you don’t at least want to talk first?”, you laughed at how keen he was, and a lazy smirk graced his face.

”we’ll talk after. get in.”, any anger, or disappointment, built up over the time you were together, had been mollified with just one comment. missing ony was something you never wanted to do again, and seeing the person he had apparently become, meant that you probably never would. all memories of past arguments, and splits, dispersed in ony’s mind once his lips met yours in a fervent kiss. it was one of longing, and regret. the heat emanating off his body causing particles of his internal regret to fill the inside of the car. you could feel it bouncing off your skin, as his tongue met with yours, and his hands kneaded at your flesh through your clothes. ultimately moving south to help you shimmy your way out of your jeans and underwear. he wouldn’t take them off completely, just leave them by your ankles as he laid you on your back, his mouth already placing soft kisses on your upper thigh. that lasted all of five seconds before ony’s tongue was wrapping around your clit, sucking on it gently. for him, this was a meal that was long overdue, and you could feel it in the way he ate you out like a starved man. taking no breaks; wet noises and thirsty moans, omitted by the ever-moving mouth entertaining your core, pervaded the vehicle.

ony had always luxuriated in eating you out, so it wasn’t long until you came; a rivulet dousing his lower face, before he finally came up for air.

”you still taste as good as i remember”, he uttered lowly, moving to give you a taste of yourself as he pressed his lips against yours. his kisses were haste as his hands fumbled to pull down his jeans and boxers, to angle himself at your entrance. the way you took in that first inch of him had him incapacitated; his forehead dropped to meet yours, while deep groans left his mouth.

”fuck…”, ony had to pause to compose himself before he gently pushed the rest of his length inside you. once he did, he just stayed there; eyes locked with yours, thanks to the streetlights, and you could’ve sworn that this man was close to tears with the way his eyes were glossing over.

the way he was fucking you was ineffable; a year was nothing compared to the others ony had spent studying your body, and the things it reacted to. like the way you’d grow tighter around him at his hands pressing your legs against your chest, as he fucked into you. even in the confined space, head crouched down so he didn’t hit the ceiling, ony still fucked you like you were in the comfort of his bedroom—with all the space, and time, in the world. his ireful tip would caress that spongy spot inside of you, over and over again, making your head spin. all those years of learning your body had not been in vain, because a few minutes in that position, and you came around him. keening his name, as your back lifted off the leather seats. ony was planning on taking you back to his place, and making up for lost time properly. but, for now, he would just turn you around and fuck into you from the back—your hands immediately finding the steamy windows,

”don’t do that, ma. people will know what we’re doin’ in here”, he chuckled at you and you moaned out a distorted version of,

”and the moving car doesn’t make it obvious?”. somehow, ony understood you; he was just used to your fucked out rebuttals, and he scoffed at you before giving the moving flesh surrounding your hips two quick slaps. your hands grabbed at anything they could to gain balance, ultimately deciding on the arm rest on the door. and ony’s hands would follow suit, but as he went to intertwine your fingers, his hands were met with cold metal. it was pretty dark in there, so he couldn’t really make out what it was, but a fleeting headlight revealed the ring he had bought you.

“still got that ring on?”, he smiled to himself.

“you p-promised me…”, you stammered out.

“that i’d marry you.”, his eyes softened at the fact that you had been wearing that ring, despite not being together. all because of that lovestruck vow he had made you,

“and imma keep to that promise. imma marry you, then imma fuck some babies into you”, he spoke to you, “that okay with you?”, you moaned out in loud agreement, and that drove ony to fuck you harder.

“good.”, the thought of you being his wife, sat in your marital bed, with his child in your arms sent him over the edge, and ony came in you. deep hums, containing declarations of his love, spilt all over the back of your neck. but his hips didn’t still because he could feel you coming again.

once you both came down from your orgasms, ony laid you down on your side, before pulling his boxers and jeans up and leaving the car momentarily to turn the car on. he opened the windows slightly, before returning to the back of the car. his back would soon be attached to the back door, yours against his chest as your fingers intertwined. even though you hadn’t covered yourself yet, and his nut was leaking out of you onto the leather seats, everything just seemed perfect. in its own weird way; you in ony’s arms again, and his lips pressing loving kisses on your temple.

”y’know it would’ve taken just one more knock at my front door for me to forgive you?”, you looked up at him. and, once the initial shock subsided, he chuckled at you.

”but i kinda think it’s better this way.”, he shrugged.

”how?”, you sat up to face him properly.

”it felt good to finally be able to give you my attention when you asked it of me.”, he smiled, reaching out to stroke your cheek, ”no interruptions. just us.”, after all the emotional turmoil, it was nice hearing that word again; ”us”.

”for life.”, you kissed his knuckle.

”for life.”

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