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#and everyone gets upset when I’m trying my best to please everyone while no one fucking cares that I ~the birthday girl~ am upset
jmin · 2 years
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not to go all bella swan but I hate my birthday
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mionemymind · 1 month
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Chapter 1: Second to You
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My Rival Series
Summary: “I hate Wanda Maximoff. I hate her face and the way she hides her freckles. I hate her smile and how perfect she laughs. I hate how smart she is and how she knows everything. I hate her.” Y/n complained. 
But how could she hate the girl that always took #1 in everything? How could she hate the girl that captivated her mind 24/7? How could she hate the girl she would willingly be #2 for?
Or the time where Y/n Y/l/n and Wanda Maximoff were academic rivals that fell for each other.
A/n: Gif credits to @aftertheglitterfades
Warnings: Rivals to Lovers, Obvious Feelings, Stubborn Reader, Cursing
Word Count: 4.1k
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |
One Month - Spring Semester
“Please be a hundred - please be a hundred.” The brown eyed girl silently pleaded under her breath. Her hands were clenched together, easily covering her mouth. She couldn’t, actually wouldn’t, give her the satisfaction of seeing her nervous. 
With her dark brown hair, quick green eyes, and pretentious smile, Wanda Maximoff already had a lot going for her, something Y/n could easily list out. ‘So god forbid, please humble her for one moment’ Y/n thought to herself. 
Trying her best to not seem so obsessed, Y/n carefully studied Wanda’s reaction. While the rest of the class seemed upset over their grades, seeing Wanda’s smile among the crowd of frowns ticked something inside Y/n. ‘Oh please, not another 100.’ But there went that fucking cocky smile, one that brought Wanda’s dimples out, and Y/n knew the answer. 
Looking back at Professor Hathaway, the older woman gently smiled at Y/n as she handed her test backwards, careful to not expose her grade. Once she passed, Y/n slowly flipped it over, eyes squinted as if it would help lessen the blow. 
‘Oh god - a 99.’ Y/n tried to steel herself from any reaction. She knew Wanda would be looking at her like a hawk. Taking a peak past the paper, Y/n could easily spot those green eyes anywhere in a crowd. And just as Y/n expected, Wanda was looking. 
“Okay class, this week's test was better. We currently have a class average of 65. There were two outliers that have caused the average to bump up. For those that need help for next week, please feel free to reach out to see where we can improve. No homework due but please try to review the remarks I’ve made.” 
Everyone was quick to start packing up, especially those that barely scored a passing D. But for Y/n, she packed quickly to avoid Wanda. Hearing Wanda talk about another perfect score would only rile her up and considering she still had to study for the managerial accounting test, talking to Wanda was the last thing she wanted.
But Y/n never got what she wanted. When a classmate accidentally bumped into her backpack, causing the contents to spill, Y/n couldn’t help me internally curse at her luck. “I’m really sorry about that Y/n!” 
Y/n didn’t dare focus on the feeling of Wanda getting closer, she didn’t even need to see to know she was only a meter away. “It’s okay Katie. Just be careful next time.” The blonde meekly smiled as she walked off to her next lecture, leaving Y/n behind to pick her stuff up. 
Just as the final book was stuffed into her bag, Y/n rose up from the ground, ready to grab her test, but Wanda was quicker. Holding back her distaste, Y/n watched as Wanda’s smug smile grew seeing the 99 plastered right at the corner. 
“Better luck next time, Y/l/n,” Wanda proudly stated as she held up the perfect grade written on her test. Holding back her profanities, Y/n snatched her test and shoved it at the bottom of her backpack. “And messing up a simple year for Renoir’s paintings, my my, this is easy at this point.” 
Y/n slung her backpack and started to walk out of the lecture hall. Usually, no response and the sight of someone leaving would give a normal person the idea that they don’t want to talk. But Wanda wasn’t normal by any means. 
She walked at a similar fast pace beside Y/n, enjoying the silent treatment she was receiving. “Not gonna talk? Ya know, I could help you study in case you need it.” 
Y/n scoffed as they exited the humanities building. ‘The nerve.’ Y/n thought. 
It was a nice spring at Evergreen University. The weather was at a perfect 75 degrees. People were out on the lawn, enjoying themselves, hanging out with friends, having picnics, overall having a great time. But none of that was something Y/n hardly got to experience nowadays. 
For the majority of the first month of the spring semester, Y/n had either been stuck at her dorm, the library, or some other student’s dorm, helping them study. The luxury of having fun was something Y/n could hardly afford. Not when Wanda Maximoff was a constant reminder of your failure to beat her. 
“99 is still good, Maximoff, in case you forgot.” They passed by a couple of people that knew Wanda, but that didn’t deter the brunette at all. She waved at them with her perfect smile which irritated Y/n even more. 
“She speaks! Didn’t know you were settling for second place now. You must’ve lost your confidence. Afraid you can’t beat me?” Y/n grumbled something that Wanda couldn’t hear. 
With Y/n’s dorm hall getting closer, the brown eyed girl quickened her pace, hoping that Wanda would stop. “More like I don’t want to humble you. Princess might get hurt if I actually try my best.” 
Wanda feigned hurt, dramatically placing a hand on her chest. “Going for the ego jab? What will I ever do?” Wanda laughed, a laugh that came from her chest, one that was wholehearted, and god did Y/n hate it. “Takes more than that to hurt me.” 
Stopping right before the entrance, Y/n halted infront of Wanda, the two almost colliding.
“Oh yeah? Then-” 
“Y/n, can you help me with accounting?” Y/n turned around to her savior. It was one of her classmates from her managerial class. Her name was Holly. 
“Sure thing.” Unbeknownst to Y/n, Wanda rolled her eyes at the pathetic excuse. Holly was a smart girl, one that hardly needed to study. This was all just a lame excuse to hang out with Y/n, something Wanda easily saw through. 
Adjusting her backpack, Y/n walked towards Holly, holding the door open. Looking back at Wanda with a frown, Y/n remarked, “Next time, I won’t go easy.” 
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Midway - Spring Semester
“Are you going to come with me to the party?” It was a Saturday night at Evergreen University. Parties were a typical thing especially since the campus had a large selection of greek life. 
However, today was not a typical Saturday. Midterms were finally over and the majority of campus was out for the night, trying to enjoy a little stress reliever. 
“Can’t Natty. I gotta study.” Y/n said hunched over a book. While Y/n did receive well above passing grades, none of them could compete with Wanda’s. It’s like no matter how much Y/n studied, there was always one small detail that would prevent her from being perfect.
“You’re always studying. Can’t you give me at least one night away from all of this.” Natasha looked around the room, Y/n’s side was filled to the brim with various books, journals, and papers. It was an academic mess. 
“You know I can’t.” Natasha sighed at Y/n’s response. She walked towards her bed, giving Y/n a tight hug. Having been roommates since freshman year, Natasha knew how Y/n was when it came to her academics. 
“At least I have senior year to try.” Y/n laughed, knowing that she’d never really go to a party. She had nothing against them, but the idea of pretending like you’re having fun was exhausting for her. 
“Text or call me if you need me to pick you up, okay? I’ll have my ringer on the highest volume.” Natasha grabbed her phone and keys, blowing a fake kiss to Y/n. 
“Thanks love. Stay up till 1:00 am for me? If I don’t text you by then, go to sleep. I’ll have a ride.” Y/n gave a thumbs up as Natasha left. 
Looking back at the time, it was only 10:00 pm. The dorms hardly muffled the loud music playing on the floor above. And knowing the RA on the floor, they’d simply dismiss it until 2:00 am. 
Shaking her head, Y/n grabbed the nearest bag and stuffed the essentials she needed. A night trip to the library wasn’t going to hurt. 
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“Accounting can literally go fuck themselves,” Y/n uttered. She was currently tucked away in a far corner on the fourth level of the library. This place hardly had any students around and with midterms being over, not a single soul was in the library at this time, well besides Y/n. 
“I need a break.” Pushing the chair back, Y/n stretched her legs and arms out, releasing out a weird primal groan in the process. Tapping her phone screen, it was a quarter past twelve. Her body was stiff and desperately needed a walk. 
“How the hell am I so stiff?” Y/n cracked her neck, hands, and knuckles, a very bad habit she developed at a young age. 
Grabbing her wallet, Y/n walked away from her spot and traversed through the long aisles of books. She eyed a couple of interesting subjects on the way to the vending machine, saving them in her head the next time she needed a new book to read. 
It didn’t take long before she spotted the bright fluorescent machine. Eying the choices, there wasn’t much. To play it safe, she got a Pepsi and quickly started to drink it. 
‘I really need to start drinking more water.’ The thoughts on being healthy always came around this time, among other things. So to distract herself more, Y/n walked around the floor, hoping to do some exploring. 
She was hardly a couple of meters away when Y/n saw her. Asleep on top of her books and notes, mouth slightly parted, and slightly shivering was Wanda Maximoff. The sight caused Y/n’s breathing to hitch. The grip on the bottle tightened, feeling already irritated and Wanda hadn’t even said a word. 
Looking around for anyone nearby, Y/n grumbled knowing that no one else would be studying on a weekend this late at night, but of course the only two people on the campus that would be are herself and Wanda. 
Y/n wanted to leave, everything from her mind and body told her to walk away and act like you didn’t see her. But how could Y/n ignore the way Wanda’s body shivered from being under the a/c? How could she ignore the way her lips twitched from reacting to a dream? How could Y/n ever ignore her? 
Betraying all logic, Y/n walked to Wanda’s table. Although she wanted to wake her up, which would’ve been the nice thing to do, the large part of Y/n didn’t want Wanda to know she could be kind to her. 
They’ve been at this stupid ‘race’ or ‘competition’ since freshman year ever since they took the intro to biology together. A lot of the people in the class had struggled, especially those that were not pursuing a STEM major. So when the professor made a light comment that Wanda was always first place in the class and Y/n was second, something inside them changed. 
Maybe it was the way Y/n noticed how much Wanda thrived under praise or how she loved answering the professor’s questions. None of the characteristics really bothered Y/n at all and she certainly didn’t care to be second. But then more exams came and Wanda was always first and Y/n was always second. 
Next came the light taunting from her friends, saying Wanda has never been beaten academically that it started to rub you the wrong way. And then came the fateful day, where Wanda had come to Y/n after class ended and asked, “Do you want help with biology?” 
The question was supposed to be harmless, but it was the fact that Y/n was around with her friends who then started to chuckle and taunt the question. It felt embarrassing especially since she didn’t even suck at the subject. 
So with a sore ego and hurt pride, Y/n mumbled a no and walked away as her friends howled even more. Ever since then, the two have been at it. And by the looks of it, it was not going to stop. 
‘Just walk away and let her deal with it.’ The thoughts in her head were convincing. Wanda would eventually wake up and be fine. She would get up, go back to her dorm, and probably act like nothing happened. 
Turning back around, Y/n almost walked away but her heart couldn’t. Sleeping alone in this lonely part of the library was not something Y/n wanted for Wanda. Looking around the table, Y/n spotted Wanda’s phone past all the humanities notes. 
Grabbing it, Y/n was surprised to find that there was no passcode. ‘Maximoff, you really need to change that.’ 
Looking through her contacts, Y/n finally was able to find Pietro. Sending a quick ‘pick me up from the fourth floor of the library’ felt harmless. Especially since it sounded like something she would say. 
Placing the phone back in its original spot, Y/n felt satisfied enough to walk away. But Wanda just had to whimper in her sleep, still shivering from the cold. 
Y/n would never admit it outloud but she would have cursed Evergreen University for making their libraries so cold. Taking off her flannel, Y/n shook her head as she placed it on top of Wanda. She had plenty more in the closet, so losing one was not going to hurt. 
‘I fucking hate her.’ Y/n convinced herself as she finally walked away from Wanda. The brown eyed girl got back to her table. It was useless to continue to study. Wanda was all she could think about right now. 
Sighing, Y/n grabbed her phone. It was getting close to 12:30 and there was still no text from Natasha. Packing her stuff up, Y/n walked out the library at a slow place. Within a block away from the library, Pietro had jogged past Y/n, not even recognizing the girl with how dim the streetlights were. 
No one else witnessed this, and once again Y/n would never admit it, but she did smile knowing Wanda was going to be okay.
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Pietro could hardly make his way through the library. If we’re being honest, he kind of forgot that this library was 24/7. After scrounging through the fourth floor, he finally found Wanda asleep at her study table.
Muttering curses under his breath, he walked to her, ignoring the flannel that covered her. ‘I didn't even take that long.’ He thought to himself. Pietro had only taken around 10-15 minutes to get to her. How did she manage to fall asleep? 
“Sestra.” Wanda woke up from the constant tugging on her shoulder. Grumbling a few incoherent words, she sat up, barely awake. Yawning into her hand, Pietro shook his head at the sight of Wanda. “You fell asleep studying, again?” 
Wanda shrugged her shoulders, too tired to even respond. “Let's get you back to your dorm.” 
As Pietro helped Wanda pack her stuff up, the brunette finally noticed the flannel on her shoulders. She snaked her arms through it, enjoying the warmth and comfort it provided. 
Too tired to think, Wanda followed Pietro out of the library and to her dorm hall. It didn’t take long for them to arrive. Thankfully, Wanda didn’t have a roommate, perks of having rich parents. 
Pietro had muttered a goodbye as he dropped Wanda’s bag near her desk. He flipped the lights off and closed the door. 
Wanda easily slipped under the covers, flannel still on. The cologne was distinct, something her body already knew who it belonged to. But having been too tired to think, Wanda simply thought it was Pietro’s flannel. 
But had she actually paid attention, she would’ve noticed the only person using this cologne was Y/n. Had she been paying attention, she would’ve noticed how much her body enjoyed having the flannel on. Had she been paying any attention, she would have noticed that the flannel was slightly too small to fit on Pietro. 
And if Wanda had a bit more energy, she would have noticed that her subconscious didn’t fight the feeling of Y/n. 
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Almost a week has gone by since the library situation. Y/n was certain that Wanda had figured out her stunt. I mean the flannel had her initials written on the underside of the tag. But when Wanda walked into class, flannel surprisingly on, it shocked Y/n. 
‘Does she seriously not know?’ During the whole lecture, Y/n could not focus. All her undivided attention was on Wanda Maximoff. The way the flannel hung off her shoulders or the way she would purposely cover her hands with the sleeves. 
Every single detail was not left unnoticed. And as class ended, Wanda came over with her usual smug self. She made a comment or two, but Y/n hadn’t heard a single thing. Not when her flannel was still being worn by Wanda Maximoff. 
And by the looks of it, Wanda didn’t know. It literally took Natasha shoving Y/n for the brown eyed girl to even respond. “See ya, Maximoff.”
Y/n had panicked and blanked hard. She left in such a hurry that even Wanda was confused. 
“What’s up with her?” Wanda asked Natasha, but even she didn’t know. 
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“Okay, this has been like the 10th time you’ve looked at her in this past conversation. What’s up with you?” If Y/n could, she would leave the country at the moment. Feeling so embarrassed, Y/n thought about denying Natasha’s comment, but god she was being so obvious about it. 
“I-,” Y/n sighed with her head in her hands. “I did something nice to someone I usually don’t do anything for.” 
Natasha hummed as she ate her banana. She carefully looked back and noticed Wanda talking with some of her friends out on the lawn. They were too far away to even notice the pair, but it didn’t hurt to be careful. 
“So you were nice to Maximoff? What’s the big deal?” It irritated Y/n that Natasha could be so nonchalant about everything. Couldn’t she clearly see why it was a big deal? 
“I guess…” Y/n looked over at Wanda once more. Her smile was radiant even if she was a little far away. And the way her body tilts back every time she laughs, Y/n could have sworn that she could hear it from her spot. Or maybe it was the way her mind remembered everything about Wanda. 
“It just made me think what if we were actually friends rather than…this.” Natasha could easily see this was a big deal to Y/n. However, their whole situation was rather odd. The banter and competition was just a children's game to her. No harm really came out of it. 
“Well I think there’s still time to make up. Why don’t you go over there and just try to talk to her?” Y/n scoffed at Natasha’s absurdity. 
“Yeah - over my dead body.” 
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“We’re partners.” Y/n wasn’t dead but it certainly almost felt like she was as she choked on Wanda’s comment. Quickly gaining the attention of other classmates, Y/n waved them off and regained her composure. She wiped the water from her lips and stared at the piece of paper that Wanda shoved in her face. 
Team 7 - Y/n Y/l/n and Wanda Maximoff
“I told the professor that you and I could easily do this project alone, but he wasn’t having it. Apparently we need to improve our teamwork skills.” Y/n looked up and easily saw how displeased Wanda was. Using all her acting skills, Y/n did the same. 
Before Y/n could say anything, Wanda commented, “Just come over to my dorm after math club. It’s at Bourbon Hall. Dorm 321.” And just like that, Y/n easily forgot all about her kindness as Wanda walked away. 
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The day was almost over. All Y/n had to do was enjoy another meeting at math club, be civil with Wanda, and then go to sleep. Although she didn’t necessarily want to do it in that order, duty called. 
Y/n was about to enter the room for math club until Lily stumbled in front of her with urgent eyes. “Hey Y/n, Dean Holloway wants to see you.”
“Do you know why?” The Dean never had random meetings with students. Generally, students would pop up to him with issues. Not the other way around.
Lily shook her head no with a small frown. “Sorry, he didn’t say.” Looking over the math club, Y/n could see that Wanda had already arrived. There was never an instance where Y/n wasn’t at a meeting, but knowing Wanda, she could handle it like a pro. 
“Okay, can you tell Wanda that I’ll be late and to start off without me?” Y/n adjusted her backpack.
“Sure thing, I’ll let her know.” Y/n gave Lily a small smile before walking away. 
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Their banter was supposed to be a children's game, simple, harmless. Nothing was supposed to come out of it. But the look in Y/n’s eyes told a different story. Her thoughts flooded with insecurities as the conversation she had with the Dean replayed. 
“Thank you for coming at such short notice Y/n. I wanted to see you before your current meeting with math club.”
Y/n hadn’t gone back to attend math club. It meant seeing Wanda, the very last person she wanted to see at all. She knew that the brunette would already be pissed at her being late, but it was better to avoid that conversation entirely. 
“I’m going to cut to the chase since you’re a very busy student. By the board, new requirements have been added to your scholarship effective immediately.”
“What are they?” There was no letter or notice coming from the school about her scholarship so this must have been a very recent decision. The Dean was unable to look Y/n in the eye as he recalled the meeting. He looked stiff and strained, something that was easy to notice. 
“For the upcoming math club state competition, the school is requiring that you and your group must achieve first place. There is no tolerance for anything less than that.”
Y/n could remember the silence being deafening. She didn’t know what to say. The whole reason she was even at Evergreen University was due to her full ride. And for the board to randomly put that on the line felt so targeted. 
Y/n tried to beg for an explanation as to why the board decided this. Wasn’t she a great enough student? Regardless, Dean Holloway was useless. He couldn’t give her a single reason as to why they decided to implement this. Essentially making Y/n deal with it herself. 
For a minute, Y/n allowed herself to dream about first place. It felt plausible, but as her phone buzzed in her bed, reality came back. Right on the screen it said Wanda Maximoff. Not wanting to speak, Y/n let the phone ring until it hit voicemail. Before she could have her moment of peace, a harsh set of knocks were at her door. 
Figuring it was Natasha forgetting her key again, Y/n slowly got up. “Coming - coming.” Not bothering to check the peephole, Y/n opened the door, her eyes landed on her.
The girl who knew every answer to every question. The girl who hasn’t left Y/n’s mind since freshman year. The girl who was the reason she was second. 
“Not going to the meeting is one thing, but ditching our plans is another.” Wanda passed Y/n up, allowing herself to enter without permission. She sat down at Y/n’s desk, immediately spouting out ideas about their project. 
But as Y/n stared at Wanda, she couldn’t help but think, ‘You’re the reason I will never be first.’ 
And that made it real. It was no longer a children’s game. This was a competition. And Wanda Maximoff was going to have to lose. 
Chapter 2
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honeyhoshi · 4 months
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hat trick!
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the term 'hat-trick' is used to define when a player achieves the feat of scoring three goals in a single game.
summary: the first half of the championships is going to their opponents and everyone is looking to mingyu to lead the team to victory. as their star player, it’s a tall order, especially when his plate is already full with you.
this a part of the man of the match universe
genre: professional football (soccer) au, porn with a little plot
wordcount: 5,616
pairing: mingyu x afab!reader
warnings: HEAVY DDlg kink, HEAVY d/s themes, both parties are safe, sane, and consenting adults, reader is implied to be significantly smaller than mingyu, huge mingyu, big dick gyu (canon), (acknowledged???) exhibitionism, unprotected sex (pls dont do it, its not worth it), multiple sex scenes, spit kink (bec i wrote it), creampie (also bec i wrote it), mentions of masturbation, size kink go bbrrrr, bulge kink, pussy stretching, plenty dirty talk, mingyu uses soooo many nicknames (pretty, baby, princess, etc.)
author's notes: this is written for my dearest friend @madeforgyu who helped me bring forward!mingyu to life and for making his gf such a joy to write. thank you also to her for inspiring me to come back to tumblr after almost a decade.
Mingyu is pissed. He’s absolutely fucking livid.
This game had to have been fucking cooked. There was no way the ref was making all these shitty calls for him not to be paid off or something. The team had been making all the right moves but the second something seems like a foul, a whistle blows and somehow it's always someone from the Diamonds getting the blame.
Mingyu had come to four attempted goals on target and any other time was deemed offside by the refs. If he sees that fucking checkered flag go up one more time before they call for half time he’s going to really give them a reason for a red card.
Any other day he’d probably be able to brush it off after the half time break. But this isn’t any other day or any other match. It was the last match of the season — it was the Korean FA Cup final.
The 23-24 season was grueling but rewarding for the Diamonds. After the major upset at finishing as runners up in the season prior, the whole squad had come into this season with fire under their asses. The change in coaches was another thing — while their ex-manager, Mr. Cho was a hardass, their tearful promise to give him a win even after his retirement paired with Seungcheol’s no-bullshit coach style took them from 100% to 250% in the space of the off season.
Mingyu’s never been a better football player. Which is why he’s unhappy when the half time whistle does blow and they’re down 0-2.
Both teams shuffle into the tunnel to head to their locker rooms where their managers and coaching staff were waiting. Then Mingyu sees a flurry of pink shuffling through the mess of white and red kits.
“Excuse me, excuse mee, coming through please,” comes a light voice, parting the crowd.
There are a couple of chuckles and greetings coming from his teammates and even a high five and a “hey tiny!” from Hoshi before it finds its way in front of him.
It’s his girlfriend. It’s you.
Your presence at the game is no anomaly. You’re pretty much a permanent fixture, sort of like the 12th man of the team. Except you can’t play football for shit and you’re always somehow wearing the worst shoes for going on the pitch.
Everyone on the Diamonds’ side knows you — from the press, to the coaching staff, even some of the nutritionists. You’ve been with Mingyu forever. You hardly phase anyone around you when you bat your eyes at Mingyu and grab one of his hands in both of yours.
Mingyu tries to harden his glare at you, doing his best to send a look of displeasure at whatever it is you’re trying to pull.
“I’m soooorry,” you start, playfully rocking on the balls of your feet and trying to tiptoe to get closer to him.
Mingyu almost wants to roll his eyes.
The last of the team coaches enter the locker room but before the door closes, Seungcheol peeks out and meets Mingyu’s eyes. Hoshi’s head pops out next to him shortly after.
“I don’t have to tell you anything, I’m sure," Seungcheol starts, “But you’ve got 10 minutes, Gyu.”
“Tiny, I need my forward in tip top shape, alright?” comes Hoshi’s laugh.
Now Mingyu really rolls his eyes.
You can’t help the giggle that bubbles out, “Aye aye captain!”
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You don’t have to be told twice when Mingyu drags you into an extra locker room and says “Skirt up, pretty.”
He makes quick work of slamming the door shut, not even bothering to lock the door. But he does flick the lights open. He wants to see. He has to see all of you.
When he turns around he clicks his tongue at you seated on one of the benches. You’re still rolling your underwear down your legs. They’re a completely useless pair. Though he admits most of your underwear is useless, either too frilly, flimsy, just there for decoration. It’s okay. He likes pretty things. No wonder he likes you so much.
“Uh-uh, doubletime princess. No time for the usual. I need to come before stepping back on that fucking pitch.”
Mingyu’s agitation from his sub par showing during the first half is bubbling under his skin. He’s been stiffening under his shorts since he saw you shuffling through the tunnel and the minute you grabbed his hands, the only thing in his head was how badly he needed to stuff you with his cock.
He grimaces at the pout on your lips as you finally untangle that stupid lacey thing from your frilly socks and platform sneakers. Mingyu grabs your wrist and drags you up against the wall that isn’t lined with lockers. He presses your front against the wall and uses his knee to spread your legs apart.
On instinct you stick out your ass, eager already despite him still being fully dressed, wiggling slightly to show him you want this too.
With quick, practiced fingers Mingyu undoes the knot of his bottoms and pushes down his compression shorts low enough to pull his cock out. He breathes a sigh of relief because finally he can flip up your skirt and see just how needy you are.
He has one large hand wrapped around his equally large cock and inspecting the view in front of him. His other hand settles on the roundness of your ass, grasping slightly to spread you open. He eyes your pink puckered hole and allows his gaze to move down to your pussy. He’s pumping himself roughly to get himself to full hardness as he eyes the slick that’s seeping between your lips. You’re almost jealous. That’s your job.
Once he’s satisfied with himself, he lets his cock rest between your cheeks, and he grasps you on both sides to squeeze. You want to cry, almost scared he’ll get off like this, just fucking the tightness of your pressed asscheeks. It’s almost quiet save for his panting and the way your slick cunt is starting to wet his cock.
So you whine loudly, that unimpressed, unsatisfied one that precedes a—
“Daddyyyyyyyy!”
Fuck there it is.
Mingyu grimaces and clicks his tongue again. No use being quiet now. Or ever, really. Everyone knows anyway.
He turns you around quickly, hoisting you up in his arms and moving to wrap your legs around his slender waist. This position has your pussy pressing up against the underside of his cock and the slight relief it gives you makes you nearly sob.
Instead you whine. You whine and start to grind sloppily as the feeling of delirium starts to course through you. It comes naturally when it comes to Mingyu. You’re addicted and so is he.
Even if your bare cunt is already pressed against him and all Mingyu has to do is angle your hips slightly to slip in, he goes the extra mile.
He supports your smaller frame with one hand and uses the other to lift a corner of his jersey to his teeth so he can bite it. He pulls it up high enough to expose his stomach and your mouth waters at the sight.
Mingyu looks good. He always looks good and he knows you like it when he’s on display for you as well. The dips and groves of his stomach, how it's still damp from the sweat from the first half, has you clenching around nothing.
He feels it against his cock and he quickly decides to quit playing around. You two probably have around 6 minutes and not a second to lose. So he flips the front of your skirt up and groans at the sight of you.
You’re soaked and coating his cock as you try to grind against him, a futile attempt to somewhat relieve yourself. 
So Mingyu pulls away slightly to position the head of his cock at your entrance.
“D’you play with yourself at all, sweetheart?” He says, tapping the large head of his cock against your clit.
“Huh?” comes your confused response.
“I asked my dumb baby if she played with this little pussy?” He answers meanly.
You flush. It’s like a routine for you to stay with Mingyu the night before a game, allowing him to let off steam and go into a game day glowing and stress free while you sit on his lap in the team bus full of his cum from your morning fuck.
But the night before the cup finals had you attending a work event at the last minute because of a scheduling issue that had both you and Mingyu pissed off and horny.
You suppose that’s partly to blame for the first half that had even you swearing at the refs from your seat in his private box.
“Just a little—“
He clicks his tongue, “How many fingers d’you use?”
“Just two daddy, a-and I stopped!” you cry almost petulantly.
“Yeah, baby? Why’d you stop?”
“Because it was no good!” You bounce in his hold slightly, biting your lower lip as he continues to tease your entrance and clit. Just the head of his cock was enough to get you this wound up.
He grins. It’s brilliant and handsome and just so fucking mean because he says, “Thats right. Two of my dumb baby’s fingers are nothing on daddy’s cock,” and pushes into you.
Mingyu has always been so big and thick and you have always always been so much smaller than him, his cock always stretching a little painfully when he first slips in. But today, with such little time and even spending the night away from each other, the stretch punches the breath from your lungs.
You squeal in equal parts delight and distress and Mingyu sets a brutal pace, not even letting you settle into the feeling of him inside of you.
But you understand. You’re his good girl so you look at him with big teary eyes, bottom lip in between your teeth and nod dumbly at him. Words fail you whenever he’s inside you but it’s okay. It’s better than okay. 
You two have long established how nothing nothing in this world makes you happier than when he uses you as he wants, when slips into you whenever he wants, and calls you his princess while destroying your insides.
His eyes are transfixed on where the two of you meet and you can’t help but follow his gaze. It’s absolutely lewd how you wrap around his cock, airtight, and how the sloppy noise echoes in the room.
“Look at my little pussy,” he starts, “my perfect little hole. My baby’s little cunt was made for me.”
Your cries are growing needier, louder, and more depraved. At the back of your mind you remember to worry about how tonight's the championship match and that the halls are surely bustling with press, staff, and even the opposing team. But Mingyu is fucking you so deep, so fast, that he’s literally fucking the thoughts out of your head.
You fight to stay with him in this room, in this moment, but before your eyes completely shut close, you feel his hand wrap around your throat.
“Daddy’s running out of time, baby,” he says, “so be a good girl and stay still for daddy, huh?”
You whine and nod as his hips move faster and he cages you up against the wall, your arms coming up to wrap around his head. 
“Words, princess. I need words.”
You want to swear at him and thrash in his arms but you’re feeling too good, too lost in the pain and pleasure. You bite at the collar of his jersey because it's the only thing you can do to quiet the pathetic whimpers, babbling, and indecipherable cries Mingyu’s pulling from you. 
Mingyu presses a kiss to your temple quickly, “My dumb baby,” he coos, “look so pretty when you’re crying on my cock. That’s my pretty baby, daddy’s almost there. Keep being good for me, m’kay?”
He speeds up his fucking, hips pistoning, and the press of his cock pressing against that spot in you that makes you see stars.
Mingyu pulls you into a kiss that’s all spit and teeth and bruising lips. He sucks on your tongue before separating the two of you and looking back down at his cock bullying its way into your pussy. 
It happens before your mind can process it but at the speed of light you feel a wet, hot thwack of his spit landing on your clit harshly and you cry out, unable to keep it in.
“Daaaaddy!” It’s loud and keening and you’re sure everyone on the other side of the wall hears.
But it’s all Mingyu needs and one, two, three, brutal thrusts later, he’s spilling deep into you, fucking you through his orgasm.
Your eyes fly open as he rubs at your clit with his thumb while he pulls out and slaps at your puffy clit before he brings your face close and presses back in for a long, deep kiss.
When he pulls away and meets your eyes there’s a mean glint in them and a shit eating grin that is almost frustrating enough to bring you back to tears.
“See baby, if you’d been good, I’d have made you come.”
“B-but! I was good, daddy! I was so good for you!” He settles you back down on wobbly legs and tucks himself back into his uniform.
You’re looking at him in indignation, tears brimming at eyes, threatening to fall. Mingyu’s eyes soften as he brushes the tears away with large thumbs and tucks your hair behind your ears.
It’s a futile attempt to have you looking presentable but your smudged lip gloss and the mess at the back of your head are enough to sell you both out for your halftime activities.
“Being good means not touching what belongs to daddy when he’s not there.”
All you can do is huff. He’s right.
You’re trying to fix how your jersey (a custom pink version of the Diamonds’ home jersey) is tucked into your skirt when you catch Mingyu picking something up from the floor.
It’s your underwear.
“Gimme!” You pout, trying to reach for it. But all Mingyu has to do is raise it above his head and it’s impossible for your to retrieve the flimsy lace
“I think I’ll keep this one for now,” he starts, “Think of it as a lucky charm.”
He unrolls the flimsy fabric and folds it into a small square, tucking it into his compression shorts and tightening up the drawstring of his uniform.
“If you want to be good for daddy tonight, you’ll keep all my cum inside of you, won’t you?” He says sweetly, talking you through the idea he’s suddenly come up with, “then daddy will win this game and fuck you with my medal on.”
After trying to get both of you presentable again, you slip out of the auxiliary locker room hand in hand just two minutes over Seungcheol’s initial 10 minute deadline.
You greet the team as they all line up again to return to the pitch and smile proudly as Mingyu talks to his teammates about feeling more relaxed and ready to play. You don’t miss the way he lets go of your hand just to wrap an arm around your waist, hand resting just on the curve of your ass as you two pass the players of the opposite team.
“Good luck, daddy. Come back to me a champion, please.” You bat your eyelashes at him and press the most innocent of kisses to his cheek.
The sweet moment is interrupted by an exuberant, “OKAY! LET’S GO!” from Hoshi.
You roll your eyes at him playfully but give in when he asks for a fist bump and says, “Tiny, thank you as always for your invaluable contribution to the Diamonds.”
You head off to where Hoshi’s girlfriend is seated, opting to be surrounded by friends and fans alike, but not before hearing the two teammates’ exchange.
“You ready to show them up, rockstar?” Is Hoshi’s jest.
Mingyu can only laugh and say, “Fuck you.”
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And show them up he does. Just 6 minutes back on the pitch and Mingyu reminds everyone why he’s one of South Korea’s most prolific strikers. With an assist from Jeonghan Mingyu is lighting fast as he performs one of his signature moves and sends the ball flying to the top left corner of the goal.
You scream your throat hoarse as you watch him run across the pitch towards a camera, pointing and kissing the diamond crest on his chest.
Not long after that Mingyu nets a freekick from just beyond the penalty box, equalizing the game. With so much at stake and still so many minutes on the clock, you can hardly breathe easily, knowing it could still go either way. And it does. 
At the 80th minute the opposition scores their third goal and you could practically feel the Diamonds’ crowd deflating, fearing a repeat of the previous year.
“They can still equalize, I’m sure of it,” you hear Hoshi’s girlfriend from beside you, “As long as Soonyoung doesn’t fuck up and your boyfriend produces another one of his miracles, we can take this to penalties.”
You groan. You hate penalties, but you know how much this match means to Mingyu and the team.
Despite the possibilities, the game has gone into injury time and the crowd around you already look like they’re ready to pack up but sticking around just in case.
The majority of the players are crowded around the opponents’ goal, desperate feet hoping to score or hoping to defend. At this point some of the opposite side’s players are just trying to kill time to secure their win.
Hoshi is yelling orders from along the Diamonds’ midfield, abandoning his goal with the confidence that his teammates will surely take another goal. 
But time just about stops when the Diamonds are awarded a corner. Jeonghan looks like he’s dragging his feet about taking it, walking away to have someone else take the kick. But in a split second he turns back to kick the ball in a beautiful arch that meets none other than Mingyu’s right foot to take a third goal.
Hat trick.
Penalties are an awful cruel thing for any football fan, you think. Even after over ninety minutes a winner still isn’t decided and it falls down to each team’s five penalty takers and their goalkeepers.
Hoshi’s girlfriend is in hysterics next to you, gripping your hand like a lifeline. Mingyu had been the first to take his penalty, the ball floating almost gracefully and finding itself out of the keeper’s reach in a split second.
The score was at 4-3 with the Diamonds in the lead after Seungkwan’s attempt had found the back of the net neatly. If their opponents miss this, the championships would be theirs.
This all falls down to their captain.
Hoshi has always been so dependable and today is no exception. The very second he deflects that fifth and final attempt, cheers erupted in every direction and the final whistle is blown. 
The Diamonds won the Korean FA Cup.
The players, the coaches, and press flood the pitch and white confetti erupts around you. Before you know it your seatmate has vanished. She’s running across the pitch to jump into Hoshi’s arms, kissing away the tears pouring down his face, the team captain overcome with emotion.
Jealousy flares in your chest and you try to look everywhere for Mingyu. You stand indignantly, looking all over for him when you’re reminded of gravity.
The intensity of the match and the anxiety at its uncertainty had taken your mind away from your mid-match tryst with Mingyu and from the fact that he had come so deeply inside of you that it was only now that you were standing and pacing and you could feel the thick, sticky seed moving inside of you, threatening to drip out of your hole. You didn’t even have any underwear to catch it and sop up the mess, the lace neatly folded and tucked into Mingyu’s own underwear. 
You stamp your foot and a whine pathetically when you feel someone come up behind you. You quickly turn to see that, amidst the chaos, Mingyu had found you.
You’d only been away from each other for an hour but in that hour he had become a champion and that fact alone had changed him. He looked like some Greek hero with how he stood with pride painted on his face and how his handsome smirk screamed winner.
God, you needed to suck his cock. 
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Luckily for you, Mingyu had the same idea. With the flurry around the win and the podium and carpets still being set up, the captain, manager, and executives still giving interviews, Mingyu knows everyone will be busy and he has time to whisk you away before anyone will even notice he’s gone.
That’s how you end up in the team’s main locker room, still a bit messy from the half time huddle, kneeling in front of Mingyu’s locker and choking on his cock.
“That’s right, baby. Take it slow so you can take more daddy in your mouth,” is his sweet encouragement before he takes the bottle of champagne next to him and takes a long swig.
You’re transfixed, blinking teary eyes to clear them, just so you don’t have to look away from the sight in front of you.
Mingyu had stripped everything off, feeling like he was overheating from the match he’d just played. He sat like a king, leaning back against his locker, spreading his legs and propping one leg up on the bench. He’d popped open a bottle of champagne and pressed the mouth of the bottle to your lips, watching the alcohol overflow from your mouth and drip down your chin to your neck and down your chest.
He kisses you shortly after, tasting the Moët on your tongue and pushing you down onto your knees.
There’s no need to preface anything because in no time you’re gagging on him. It doesn’t take much to have you drooling all over him, his cock so much bigger than what you should actually have in your mouth.
“You can fuck my throat, daddy, please please please!” You gasp out as he pulls you off of him so you can take in a deep breath.
“I know baby,” he says before taking another swig of that champagne, your eyes following the way his Adam's apple bobs. 
He leans down to bring the bottle to your mouth and says, “tongue out, my filthy girl.”
Your spit is thick and sticky in your mouth and you make a show of it when you follow his orders. He wraps a hand around your throat to steady you as he pours champagne into your mouth again, not caring about how much falls down the side of your mouth and dampens your jersey.
He leans back, pleased with the indulgent mess before him, and grabs at the hair at the crown of your head to pull you back down on his cock.
You’re a dream. You had been so good, so obedient at learning to take his cock over the years, and now he’s sure he’s molded himself into your throat the same way he’s made your pussy perfect for only him.
“My perfect girl’s got the most perfect mouth, huh?” He’s holding you down onto him, keeping your head in place, “The filthiest fucking mouth and its all for dad’s cock.”
The noises are disgusting. With your mouth full you can’t say anything but you’re happy just to listen to him come undone. Your spit and his pre-cum gather at the sides of your mouth but you don’t want to stop until he’s pumping his sticky cum onto your tongue.
You pull off of him to lave your tongue over his balls, sucking on one and then the other before saying, “Daddy, I think I deserve to drink your cum, right?”
Mingyu swears under his breath, somehow still not believing how lucky he got with you, your depraved mind the only one that can match his own.
He downs the rest of the champagne and moves to kiss you, sharing the drink. You gulp down what you can before going back down on him, holding down his hips as the muscles beneath your fingers jerk as he fills your mouth. 
Mingyu comes in thick ropes of sticky hot cum that you almost have trouble swallowing, but daddy trained you to be a good girl, thankful for everything she gets. So you swallow every single drop, proudly showing Mingyu your empty mouth.
“Atta girl.”
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You try to be on your best behavior and good for Mingyu for the rest of the evening. You’re the picture-perfect girlfriend watching and cheering proudly as he gets his gold medal and the team cheers in unison once Hoshi lifts the trophy above his head. The pictures are taken and the interviews are given but there’s only so much you can take and by the time Mingyu has you buckled up into his car, you’re feeling unnecessarily bratty.
“Baby,” Mingyu starts. You’re some fifteen minutes away from his house and he’s about to get into it now?
“Mm,” is your petulant response.
“Listen to me,” he warns.
But it almost comes as an instinct to you to retaliate, having the most fun when you two go back and forth like this.
“Don’ wanna.”
From the corner of your eye you see his jaw harden.
“Didn’t daddy fill you up, today?” He says as more of a statement.
“He did.”
“Didn’t daddy feed you his come, princess?”
You start to flush, “He did.”
“And then didn’t daddy say he was going to fuck you with his medal on if he won the championships?”
He’s pulling up to his house now and you almost let out a sigh of relief.
“He did,” you answer.
He parks and turns to you, “Then you are going to get out of this car and head up to our room and you are going to strip yourself naked.”
You’ve been waiting for this. Finally, away from any prying eyes and ears, no matter how accepting, you can finally let loose and have him every way you want him.
“Daddy will park the car and unload the stuff and when I come into the room I better see that messy pussy served up for me.”
There’s buzzing in your ears and you bite your lips.
“Of course, daddy.”
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It starts with your good intentions, really.
You had asked him kindly to lay back against the pillows and the headboard promising that you were going to be real good, daddy, I promise! And that you were so proud of him, that he was so yummy on the field and of course he was going to be the winner.
You wanted to reward him, said that daddy deserves to be ridden to have your tits in his face, to be spoiled.
To be fair, it was a valiant effort on your end. Once he’d settled into bed, you squealed and threw yourself over him, chest to chest as you rubbed your bare pussy onto his cock.
You were aching to be stuffed but you know how sloppy and wet he likes your pussy to be. And through his cum from earlier today was smeared all over your cunt and thighs, you knew you could do better for him.
You pressed kisses to his chest while running your hands over the dips and divots, the hardness and softness of his chest and abs and sighed dreamily as you met his eyes through thick lashes, “I love you daddy, I’m so happy for you.”
“I love you too, baby. I’m happy I made you happy,” was his simple response.
You bit your lip at the elation that filled your chest and you pressed a quick kiss to the gold medal resting on his chest. You stood on your knees on either side of his hips and kept one hand on his stomach to steady yourself as you lined his cock with your entrance.
The delicious stretch and resistance was still there as you sank down on him, his own spend mixing with your slick, making the slide delicious.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off how your pussy split open to take all of him. The pace is slow and your whimpers of “Daddy, daddy, daddy” made his head spin.
But while slow and romantic was good, it was always just how your love making started. This was all before your thighs had grown tired and your lower back started to hurt.
Mingyu tried to talk you through it, guide your hips on how to grind just right for the head of his cock to press against that spot inside of you. Even his encouragement of you can do it, pretty, daddy’s tired is futile when you finally cry out.
“But daddyyyyy,” comes the high pitched whine, “I’M TIRED TOO. Don’t you feel bad for your baby?”
And he breaks at that.
He sits up and flips the two of you over without even pulling out and your eyes roll as the movements jostle him inside of you.
The anticipation is reaching its boiling point when lifts one leg and places it over his shoulder and pulls out of you to rest his cock on your sopping cunt.
He loves this. It’s fucking sick, but he loves to see how big he is compared to your little hole. He loves to see the head of his cock aligned with your belly button and how you clench around nothing, already missing him inside you.
Before he decides to push his cock back inside you he grasps himself by the base and rubs harshly at your entrance and clit with the engorged head of his cock. It makes you squeal as the rough stimulation shocks your system.
He had left you hanging during half time, with only just enough time for him to fill you up, and you had been too preoccupied blowing him to rub yourself to completion after the match.
But the blessed feeling of an orgasm is finally bubbling back onto the surface now that Mingyu was focusing on your pleasure.
“You’ll give me this, right, baby?” He says pulling you back to him. He wants you to be present, to know how he’s making your body tick, “Be my good girl and wet my cock, daddy wants this pussy to be dripping when he fucks it.”
You whimper in acknowledgment and he speeds up his ministrations, the stimulation getting to him as well as beads of pre-cum mix with your slick and eventually, the spray of your cum squirting out of you messily. 
Your moan is music to his ears and you cry out as he pushes his cock into you, not giving you even a second of respite.
With both hands free, Mingyu positions both of your legs over his shoulders, your stupid frilly socks tickling his ears. This position is a favorite for the both of you. He loves how deep he can fuck you like this, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. And you love how when you put your hand just under your belly button, you can see and feel how his cock moves inside you.
“Fuck, look at you,” he says all too breathless, “So fucking perfect.” The sweat beading on his face falls on your temples and you want to cry — what a waste not to taste him on your tongue.
“My perfect little cocksleeve, that I made just for me, isn’t that right. Fuck.” He’s losing it and God do you want him to fall apart.
He pulls away slightly and laughs to himself a little when he sees how his medal, still around his neck, is resting on your chest, bouncing slightly as he continues to fuck into you. What a sight. And only his.
What a day it’s been for him to have woken up in this very bed alone and just another football player hoping for a dream to come true. And to end up here now, in the same bed with you calling out to him like a litany of prayers and his champion’s medal sitting between your tits, bite marks on the flesh contrasting prettily against the yellow gold.
He bites his lip and focuses on your bodies and how you can barely get the word ‘daddy’ out coherently, mumbling dadd-da-daddy-dad unintelligibly. He does you a kindness and presses a hand down where your smaller one is, and thrusts hashly, loving the way you clench around him as you finally reach a second peak. The vice grip your pussy has on his cock is enough to push him over the edge as well, spilling another load into you and your eyes flutter shut.
Mingyu doesn’t pull out of you but sets your legs down and massages the insides of your thighs because he knows you’ll complain about them tomorrow.
He slips off his medal and sets it on the bedside table next to your phones.
After arranging your bodies to be more comfortable, he presses soft kisses on your ear and into your hair, chuckling slightly as you mumble in your sleep that it tickles. 
Mingyu can’t help but keep that smile even as he settles down. It feels so good to be a winner.
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-`✮´- if you've come this far, thank you and it'd mean the world to get a reblog or to hear your thoughts on my first fic on here!
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evermoresqueiswriting · 2 months
Text
the one where clarisse learns about her love language
"Late in the night, the city's asleep Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep Change my priorities The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury" - King Of My Heart, Taylor Swift
summary: after getting hurt during one game of capture de flag, clarisse gets taken care of by you and after this, clarisse went from never being at the infirmary to being there almost every day with a new injury. weird for an ares kid to get this easily injured, but you didn't mind
pairing: clarisse la rue x apollo!reader
word count: 6.2k i suddenly lost the ability to write shorter fics bruh
tags: fluff, clarisse fell first and harder
masterlist // ask box
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No one at camp had a job at camp per say. Hephaestus kids were the ones forging the weapons campers used, and Demeter kids sometimes cooked dinner. And some Apollo kids – including yourself – were the designated healers at camp. So, it wasn’t your job, per say, to stay at the infirmary all day long, but you were. 
You enjoyed the calm and serenity of that place. The sun always shined through the windows, and you could sunbathe all day long, while listening to your favourite songs or painting. Most of the time it was quiet, except when Will followed you there. He was a rather loud kid, he loved to ask questions and learn about everything you did. 
“Shouldn’t you be playing with other kids your age instead of trying to work here?” 
“Shouldn’t you be socialising with kids your age instead of working for free?” Will replied in the same tone. 
“Rude!” 
“I learned from the best,” he gave you a pat on the shoulder. 
“I regret it. All the time,” you turned away. “If you’re gonna stay here, at least help me clean this place.”
The first time Will tried to help you clean this place, it was a disaster. Before you ran the infirmary, it wasn’t organised, everything was just laying around. Then you came in, and cleaned up the place, and organised it how you liked it. Will didn’t know that, so he just cleaned up like he thought was fine. It wasn’t. And you had lectured him about never – ever – touching anything again without you being there. 
“Tomorrow’s Capture the Flag,” Will started. “They put really far from the flag and the fight, again,” he frowned. 
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
���It always happens when the Ares cabin is teaming up with us. They’re always leading the fight.”
“Well they are good,” you shrugged. “But you know you can talk to Lee about this, he’s our head counsellor and he could talk to Clarisse.”
He shook his head. 
“Clarisse is kinda scary,” Will admitted. 
“Did I never tell you to never judge a book by its cover,” you put your hands on your hips, “but in that case you’re right. Clarisse does scare me a little bit too. And I’m kinda glad she decided to put me far away from her this time.”
Will rolled his eyes, clearly still upset. 
“Okay, I can see how this isn’t great,” you sighed. “If for the next one, we’re still teaming up with the Ares cabin, I’ll talk to Lee and Clarisse alright?”
He nodded. Hopefully, you weren’t going to team up with the Ares cabin anytime soon. You never talked to Clarisse, but you knew who she was. Everyone knew her. Ares daughter, head counsellor and incredibly scary. She was an amazing fighter, and no one wanted to be at the other end of her spear. 
“I’m just saying,” you ranted to Lee at dinner, “Will is a kid and it sucks that you decided to exclude him.”
“Who’s ‘you’,” he inquired. “Clarisse was the brain behind everything. She’s the strategist.”
“And what are you? A plant? You were there when the strategy was being made,” you argued.
“But Will never said anything to me. It’s always been this way.”
“Well he told me, and I’m telling you. Please pass along this information if we ever get teamed up with the Ares cabin again,” you smiled.
“Sure,” Lee nodded. “You’re the boss.”
“‘m not,” you mumbled and kept on eating. 
Lee was the Apollo cabin’s head counsellor. But really, you were his co-head counsellor. You have been at camp for a long time now, since the age of ten and you have always been a year-rounder at camp. But when the head counsellor spot freed up, you vouched for Lee. He wanted that position, he deserved it, and you agreed. But he always came for advice and your opinion. 
Capture the Flag day finally arrived, and you were getting ready, putting your armour on. You picked your bow and slid it on your shoulder, before leaving your cabin. You joined your team – the red one – and everyone was there already. Clarisse stood tall and proud at the front, planting her spear next to her. 
“Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged,” Chiron announced – like every single time. “Killing or maiming is not allowed.”
“Much to my regret,” Dionysus mumbled. “So yeah, let the game begin or whatever.”
Clarisse turned around, waved her hand around and people were running to their assigned position. You were on flag duty. On top of the hill that had a perfect view of your flag. If you saw anyone from the opposite side you'd shoot explosive arrows to blind and confuse them for a second, so your team had time to disarm them before they could reach your flag. 
You looked around, and spotted Michael and Lee. Chatting, and looking around. Moving on. Ares' kids were fighting some kids from the Hephaestus cabin. Logic. And then you spotted Clarisse. Walking alone through the forest. Probably to the other side where the blue flag was. 
But then you also spotted a group of three Athena kids – blue team – following her closely. Clarisse wasn’t stupid, she probably knew about them following her. 
“What are you watching?” someone asked, startling you. 
“Will! What are you doing here?”
“There wasn’t anyone around the borders, so I came to help you. So what are you staring at?”
“Nothing,” you shrugged, going back to monitor your flag. 
Will stared at you, huffed and went to look at what you were looking at. 
“y/n?,” Will called for you. 
“What?” you didn’t look at him.
“y/n!”
“What?” you gave him a quick glance. 
“Something’s wrong.”
That caught your attention. You looked back at where Clarisse was. She seemed fine. The three Athena kids were no longer there though. 
“What?”
“Don’t you see the trap?”
“What trap?” you frowned, looking more closely at where she stood. 
It was a particularly sunny day. If your dad wasn’t Apollo, you’d be blinded by the sun rays. But your dad was Apollo, so you were doing great. And there it was. The trap. It was so bright, it was hard to spot it. And the Athena kids knew that. So when Clarisse walked over it, it was too late and something came flying toward her. 
“What the hell?” you cursed before running down the hill. “Stay here,” you warned Will. 
Before you left, you gave a quick glance back, and Clarisse was down, surely unconscious. 
“Fuck.”
You sprinted towards where she was when you heard the emergency horn. The emergency horn that Chiron played at the start of every summer so campers would know what that sound meant. A warning for campers that the game stopped. When you reached Clarisse, Chiron and Mr D were already there. As well as most campers. 
“What happened?” campers talked among themselves.
“Move!” you pushed the kids blocking you from reaching Clarisse. 
Clarisse was bleeding from her forehead, and a metal stick was stuck in her left shoulder. It was overwhelming, people squeezing in to see what was going on, talking to each other. Even Chiron and Mr D couldn’t keep them in place. You kneeled beside Clarisse, trying to shield her from the campers, when you spotted one of the Athena kids that was following her earlier. 
You stood swiftly, without leaving Clarisse unattended and grabbed his armour with both hands to bring him closer.
“You take another step toward Clarisse again and I’ll make sure you won’t ever, ever, see another healthy day again. I’ll make sure you and your brothers will wake everyday in pain wishing you were dead instead,” you cursed him. 
You spoke in a low voice, but everyone heard. Just like that, everyone took a step back.
“y/n,” Chiron put his hand on your shoulder. “You’re needed in the infirmary, I’ll bring Clarisse there.”
You let him go, took your armour off and threw it on the ground before walking to the infirmary with your brothers close behind you. Michael had great healing skills too, so you’d need him. Will was learning so he stayed with you. Lee, as your head counsellor, also had to be here somehow. 
“Can you really do that?” Will asked timidly. “Make them sick forever.”
“Apollo kids can inherit dad’s plague powers,” Lee stated. “But it’s rare, and never that powerful.”
Will stared at you, but you only stared at the door. Waiting for Chiron to arrive. 
“Why are you so worried about Clarisse of all people,” Michael huffed. 
Lee slapped his arm. 
“What!” Michael rubbed his arm. 
“Great to know that’s what you’d think if we were ever on the battlefield,” you noted, “choosing who to help and who can die.”
“That’s not what I said!” he shouted.
“Then why shouldn’t I be worried about an injured camper, who just happened to be Clarisse?” you shouted back.
Someone cleared their throat. You both stopped bickering. Chiron. He put Clarisse on the bed next to the window and stepped back so you and Michael could start working. You didn’t need to talk to know what to do. You trained together, as a team, for years, so everything was done flawlessly and quickly. 
“She should be fine,” you announced, “I’ll stay and feed her ambrosia for the next few days and she should wake.”
“Great,” Chiron nodded, relieved. “Great work you two, as usual.”
They all left, except for Will and you both sat on the couch. You stared at Clarisse, with her head wrapped in a bandage, her shoulder too. 
“She doesn’t look so scary now huh,” you said. 
“No,” Will agreed. “So it really was the Athena cabin?”
“I don’t know, I mean I saw them. I don’t think Annabeth would’ve agreed to such a plan. As in a plan that’d almost kill their opponent in Capture the Flag. For a real quest, why not. But Capture the Flag?”
“What’s going to happen to those who pulled this stunt?”
“Well,” you sighed, “knowing Chiron, he’d probably just revoke their dessert privileges for two weeks instead of one. But I’m sure once she wakes up, she’ll know what to do.”
“Kill them?” Will ask, with a horrified expression.
“Maybe,” you shrugged. 
Will left first, leaving you alone with Clarisse. You told him you’d join him later when dinner would come. You went to see Clarisse. The bandages were already soaked, so you carefully removed them. You carefully cleaned her wounds again before bandaging them again. You fed her a tiny amount of ambrosia before joining the rest of your siblings for dinner. 
Before the feast could begin, Chiron gave a speech about how Capture the Flag wasn’t the place to settle personal accounts and that maiming and killing was forbidden. And how this time it went too far. 
“I’ve talked to the head counsellor in question, and it will be taken seriously. There will be consequences, and I don’t ever want to see this happening ever again.”
Campers nodded along, and went back to their table. You devoured your food in no time, not forgetting to leave some for the offering. Then you rushed to shower and clean your face before running to the infirmary where you’d spend the next few nights. 
“I really hope you’ll wake soon,” you told unconscious Clarisse. “I’m not used to having someone else in here.”
You walked around, putting things back where they’re supposed to, and walked back to where Clarisse was. Then you stood again, and sat.
“I’m crazy. A few hours with someone who doesn’t talk to me and I’m going insane,” you sighed. “Well, while we’re here, I have a few things to say, to get off my chest really,” you started your rant. “You know Will, my little brother. Well, Will is capable of holding his own, he can fight… maybe not your siblings, cause you’re all very, very, violent. But you don’t have to put him this far away each time you know, he notices.
“I’m saying,” you rested your back against the bed, “it could be different, you could come up with a different kind of strategy. It works for sure, you win a lot, but we could win in a different way also. 
“You know I saw you,” you continued after a moment. “Being followed by these idiots. I thought you knew, and–,” you paused. “Ugh I should’ve tried to protect you. Warn you. It was my job. Why didn’t I think of that earlier? And it was hot as hell, you could’ve felt a little dizzy and I should’ve–”
“Shut up,” Clarisse wheezed. 
You whipped around, standing up before backing away. 
“Ar– Clarisse?” you whispered. “Are you feeling alright?” you walked to her. 
Her eyes were still closed, she frowned and shook her head slightly. 
“Waw, Ares kids are tougher than I thought,” you mumbled to yourself. 
You went to grab some water and a straw, and sat next to Clarisse, on the bed. 
“You should drink a bit.”
She opened her eyes, and stared at you, with a blank expression. You blinked, and smiled, holding up the straw to her mouth. You frowned when she refused to drink. 
“Drinking water is good for you,” you added. “Please stop staring at me like you want to murder me.”
She rolled her eyes and drank everything before closing her eyes again, and turning her head on the other side. 
“Well, I’ll be sleeping on this bed,” you pointed to the bed next to hers, “if you need anything, shout.” 
Clarisse kept quiet, so you went to bed and fell asleep very quickly. Clarisse, on the other hand, could not fall asleep. She turned head around and looked at you. You clearly slept well, with your mouth slightly opened. After a few minutes of staring outside the window, her stomach growled. She needed to eat. 
There had to be food in here – she looked around and spotted a basket full of fruits and cake. That’ll do. She gathered all her strength and tried to push herself up using her left arm and yelped in pain. That woke you up.
“What’s wrong?” you worried.
“Nothing,” Clarisse panted, biting her lips. 
You rushed to her and saw her shoulder was bleeding again.
“What happened?” you worried, turning the lights on. 
You grabbed clean bandages, and a clean towel with some alcohol and rushed back to her. Clarisse somehow managed to sit up, her right arm holding onto where her left shoulder was stabbed.
“Don’t cover it,” you pushed her hand away.
You started to remove the blood soaked bandages when she grabbed your hand to stop you. You gave her a questioning look. Clarisse quickly let go of your hand and looked away, breathing slowly. You opened your mouth, but then closed it and resumed your work. 
“What were you trying to do anyway?” you asked when the wound was clean. 
“I was hungry.”
“I–, I mean I did say to shout if you needed me but I was not thinking a pained scream with you bleeding again. Just a ‘hey y/n bring me food’ would’ve suffice. I would’ve been up. And that’s done. Good as new.”
Clarisse was still looking away from you which hid her head wound. When she turned her head toward you, you raised your hand to touch her face, but she flinched away hard at your sudden movement. You froze, too afraid to move again. No one talked or dared to breathe – the silence became heavy. Clarisse opened her eyes, and stared at you. She took your hand in hers and put it down. 
“I–,” you breathed, “I was just going to check your head wound,” you murmured. 
“Go ahead then,” she sat straighter. 
You raised your hands slower this time, and tilted her head. You tore off her bandage and put it back in place. Clarisse could hear her heartbeat pacing up. Her mind and body stopped functioning. What was happening? She kept thinking about how your hands felt so warm in the night breeze, and how pretty you looked so close. Then when you dropped your hands, she came back to reality.
“Your face is still good. Like always,” and gave her a small smile. 
“I’ll go eat,” she blurted out before leaving bed.
“Oh– okay. I can go to the kitchen and bring other things if you want.”
“No it’s fine,” she brushed you off, focused on the fruits in front of her. 
Which was hard with you so close behind her. You watched Clarisse eat the strawberries and blueberries and grapes, and then you grabbed an orange and started to peel it. Once you were done you handed it to her. She grabbed it slowly and whispered a low thank you before eating it. Clarisse also ate half of the cake Katie brought to you earlier. 
“Demeter kids, am I right,” you ate with her, “I don't know what they put in their cakes but I could eat them everyday. You should rest now,” you put your hand on her right arm and squeezed it. “You can barely stand.”
This time when Clarisse closed her eyes, she fell asleep instantly. And so did you. The next morning, you were the first one up. As soon as the sun rose, you were ready to start your day. You went to your cabin and washed up before grabbing a new toothbrush for Clarisse. You changed your clothes, and then went to the Ares cabin. You opened the door, and no one was up yet. You spotted the only empty bunk bed – Clarisse had one for herself – and saw her drawer next to it. You grabbed a new pair of pants, and a new camp-half blood tee and left in a hurry. Clarisse was up by the time you came back.
“I brought some of your clothes so you could change,” you gave her the clothes and the toothbrush. “I did sneak into your cabin, but I didn’t look through your stuff, don't worry about that,” you smiled. “I mean, except for your clothes – sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“Well, I’ll let you change and I’ll be… not here for sure. I’ll go get breakfast!”
Clarisse watched you walk away, humming to some songs and when you were out of her sight, she got out of bed to change and clean herself. All she could think about was what happened yesterday. What even happened yesterday?
Before yesterday, you never spoke. She knew your name and vaguely knew what you looked like, but that was it. Since she arrived at camp, she didn’t once step into the infirmary – she didn’t need to. But now, for some reason, all she could think about was you. And how warm and soft your hands felt, how nice it felt to have you touch her face like that. 
By the time you came back, Clarisse went back to bed and laid down. You gave her what you brought and you ate together, picking off the same plate.
“How are you feeling this morning? Does it still hurt?” you pointed at her shoulder.
“I’m—,” she stopped. “It still hurts,” which was true. “A lot,” that wasn’t.. 
“Really?” you worried. “I thought you’d be doing fine, because you woke so early. I thought your body was healing faster than most campers. Well,” you picked a strawberry with your fork, “you’ll have to stay here longer then.”
“Can’t go against the doctor’s orders,” she shrugged. 
“True,” you smiled. “You finish this,” you pushed the plate toward her, “I’ll go get some supplies to change this,” you gently patted her shoulder. 
You rolled your chair away, and grabbed what you needed and rolled back to Clarisse. You hopped onto her bed, and started your routine. The wounds were healing perfectly fine, and very quickly, so it was odd that Clarisse was still in extreme pain. 
“I don’t think these wounds will scar,” you said. 
“A shame, they’d make me look tougher.”
“Look?” you huffed. “You don’t need those to look tougher, you already do. Scary even,” you joke, but not really. “I mean I’m not scared– anymore… but yeah, some people may say– think you do. Anyway, scar or not, you’ll always look and be the toughest.”
“Anymore?” she grinned. “Were you before?”
“I mean,” you dragged that last vowel, “I don’t think scared is the right word. More like– intimidated. I never went to these meetings for Capture the Flag because I knew if you disagreed or worse – dismissed my ideas – I would’ve cried.”
“I never would’ve done that,” she chuckled, “I don’t think you’re capable of having bad ideas. Lee’s constantly praising you and giving us your ideas that I always take into account.”
“Really?” you couldn’t stop your smile. 
She shrugged, and nodded. You playfully slapped her on the shoulder – the left one – and she yelped in pain.
“What the hell!”
‘Sorry!” you backed away, “it was a reflex.”
Clarisse ended up staying in the infirmary with you for three whole days, but she couldn’t fake it anymore when the wound completely healed and it was as if nothing had happened. The day she left, you cleaned up the room and sat alone on the couch, just like before. 
It was weird. Usually, you enjoyed the silence and solitude of the room, but now it was as if time had stopped. Every time you looked at the clock, it’d only been two minutes. And so were the next few days. Then on Friday, as usual, Lee came in to visit. You worked in silence – which was the first odd thing Lee noticed – then he saw how you always stared at the empty bed Clarisse used to stay in. 
“You’re being weird,” he said. 
“I’m not!”
“You’re never this quiet when I visit.”
“The past few days were a bit dry,” you explained casually.
“You can say you miss Clarisse, it’s fine,” he sat next to you on the couch. 
“I–,” you sighed. “It’s just… I was getting used to having someone with me.”
“Well maybe you should spend less time here and more time outside with, mmh I don’t know, Clarisse maybe.” 
“What if she doesn’t see me as a friend though? What if I’m imagining things? She hasn’t visited me once.”
“Then you come back here, and the end.”
“I hate you,” you groaned. “You’re no help to me at all!”
When the door suddenly flew open which startled both of you. You could recognise these hair anywhere. 
“Clarisse?” you called her name. 
She turned to face you, and a gasp came out of your mouth before rushing to her. 
“What happened to your face?” you held her arms.
Clarisse had a nasty cut going from her eyebrow to her hairline. She stared at you without saying anything before turning her gaze to Lee, and he spurted out some excuses and then left. But before he closed the door, he gave you a knowing look saying ‘see, she’s here’. 
“What happened?” you frowned. 
“I don’t know,” she whispered. She cleared her throat. “These few days of rest weren’t a good idea I think.”
“That’s–,” you paused, “not accurate.”
But before she could reply, you grabbed her arm and dragged her to the other side of the room, and let her sit on the chair. You grabbed clean cotton and some alcohol and started to clean her wound. You stood closely to her, between her legs with her hands holding onto your thighs to stay steady. 
“How did this happen anyway?” you asked.
“I was practising with my brothers.”
You frowned, and tried to step away but Clarisse was holding on tight to your thighs. 
“You got beat up by your brothers?” you repeated with a raised eyebrow. “I have a hard time believing this. You’re just better than them,” you said casually before patching up her wound. 
“Why do you know so much about my brothers’ skills?”
“I don’t! I know about yours. And from what I saw in the past, it’s always you leading the fight so I assumed that’s because you’re the best among them.”
“Mh,” she hummed, “well I guess you haven’t been doing your job very well if I’m not back to my old self yet,” she grinned. 
“Or,” you grinned back, “maybe it’s your skills. I think they need a little sharpening. Maybe I could spare some time and teach you if you need.”
She suppressed a smile. 
“Or, maybe you just want to spend time with me.”
You were close to each other, and Clarisse was still holding onto you. You crossed your arms, and stared at her. She was looking up at you, and you were looking down, which was a rare occurrence since she was much taller than you. 
“I’m doing a favour to you at best. But if you don’t want to,” you sighed, “it’s–.”
“I do,” she affirmed. 
That was the start of your friendship. Turns out Clarisse was really glad to hang out with someone that wasn’t her sibling. She was always the one seaking you out. At lunch, at dinner, during classes. All the time. Even when you were working, because somehow she always, always, ended up getting hurt. 
One of the first times she came in after your friendship hangouts was for a sprained ankle. She came in limping, and threw herself on her – not really – bed, groaning. 
“What happened?” you rushed to her side, worried. “You’re lucky I just came back in here!” 
Clarisse didn’t want to admit this, but that was exactly why she was here. She was on her way to her cabin when she spotted you walking around with your sisters and she was so focused on you that she tripped and fell. 
“I just fell,” she explained. 
“You just fell,” you repeated slowly. “Right. Well lucky you because this,” you patted her leg, “will heal in no time with this,” you brought her some ambrosia. 
“That’s it?” she asked.
“Yeah,” you smiled. 
“Oh.”
Then the next time she came, like the next few ones, were always injuries that required you to clean up the wound, and then patch her up. It went from tiny cuts to ‘I have a bruise here’ then showing you her perfectly unbruised skin to serious injuries that she got during Capture the Flag. 
“You know at this rate I feel like you’re doing this on purpose,” you joked when she came in for the umpteenth time. “What is it this time?”
She shrugged and sat on her designated bed, and laid down. You joined her and sat next to where her legs rested. She held up her hand and you took it before she dragged you to lay beside her. The beds in the infirmary weren’t big enough for two so you were half laying on Clarisse with her arm resting behind your head. 
“Did you paint that?” she asked.
The ceiling was painted by the Apollo cabin, all together you decided on a design and painted it over weeks worth of work.  
“Here,” you pointed at the top of the painting. “That was painted by me.”
“Two planets?” 
“The moon and Saturn,” you smiled.
“Linked by a thread?”
“Yea, the red string of fate. It’s from Chinese mythology. The old lunar matchmaker god, who is in charge of marriages, would tie together two people with this red string of fate and they are destined to be together, to be lovers regardless of time, place or circumstances. And no matter what, that thread will never break. It can stretch or get tangled up, but it never breaks.”
“And what about the moon and Saturn then?” she frowned, confused. 
“Because,” you paused. “Your braids like a pattern, love you to the moon and to Saturn,” you started to sing, “Passed down like folk songs, the love lasts so long.”
You turned your head to look at her only to see confusion on her face.
“Taylor Swift, seven,” you explained. “It’s great, we’ll have to listen to it someday.”
“Sure.”
“Really?” you looked at her excitedly.
“Yeah, you seem to like her so sure, I’ll listen with you,” she shrugged.
“Oh and that’s Will’s painting,” you showed her another corner. “That’s my dad and his lover, Hyacinthus. That’s where the name of the flower came from. Isn’t that kind of sweet how he named a flower after him.”
“I mean didn’t Apollo kill – by accident – Hyacinthus?” she grimaced. 
“Or Zephyrus was so jealous of my dad that he killed his lover, because he couldn’t get no man. My dad is an excellent archer. His aim never failed him. I don’t see how it’s possible for him to kill his lover. But gods being petty over these kinds of things, that I can believe.”
Clarisse hummed in agreement. 
“But enough about my father’s love life,” you shrugged, turning around to face Clarisse, “what about your dad? Still desperately trying to woo someone else’’s wife?”
“I don’t want to talk about my dad,” she yawned, then closed her eyes. 
“Okay.”
Just as you were about to continue talking, you noticed that Clarisse had fallen asleep. It was still early in the afternoon so it was still bright outside. You looked around and started to get up so you could pull the curtains but Clarisse grabbed your arm to pull you closer to her, locking you in her arms. 
“Don’t go,” she mumbled. 
“Okay,” you whispered and stayed still. 
The thing was, Clarisse was like a human radiator. Sleeping in her arms felt exactly like sleeping under tons of heavy blankets. This much warmth only resulted in falling asleep in Clarisse’s arms. When you woke, you were alone in bed.
“Slacking off during work hours,” Lee said standing next to you. 
“Fuck!” you jumped off bed. “Why were you staring at me sleeping!” you screamed.
“You weren’t there and it’s almost time for dinner. I’m being a nice brother!” he shouted back.
“Oh. Well, thanks!” you yelled, and gave him a smile. 
You both left  to join your siblings at the dining pavilion, and once you sat at your usual spot, you scanned the room in search of Clarisse. She was at her table like usual, and eating in silence, head hanging low. Your tactic of staring at her wasn’t working even though you knew she knew that you were staring at her. 
“What are you doing?” Lee kicked you with his elbow. “Did something happen with Clarisse?” he whispered. 
You shook your head. 
“I mean,” you leaned in whispering, “we did sleep together.”
Lee’s eyes widened, mouth wide open and he backed away in shock. 
“You– you slept together? In the infirmary?”
“Not slept together,” you rolled your eyes, “she fell asleep and did I.”
“Ah.”
“Anyways, she left without saying anything,” you explained. “And now, I feel like she’s avoiding me.”
“It’s only been a few hours.”
“She’s avoiding me, I’ve been staring at her for at least fifteen minutes and nothing. Not a glance from her.”
“Okay creep. But once again, just talk to her. It would solve all your problems here.”
“She’s the one who doesn’t talk. I talk. A lot!”
 “Trust me, I know. I just don’t think Ares kids are the best at talking, you know.”
“Fine.”
But as it turned out, Clarisse mastered the art of avoiding people – you – when she wanted to. Whenever you tried to talk to her, she would disappear. After a few days of trying, you gave up and told everything to Lee. 
“If she doesn’t want anything to do with me, then fine by me,” you frowned, holding back your tears. 
“I’m sure you’re overthinking this,” he tried to comfort you.
“Oh please,” you huffed. “You saw what happened this morning when I tried to talk to her. I’ll get over it,” you whispered. “I’ll get over her.”
Lee considered himself your best friend, and favourite brother. You never said these things, but he considered you his best friend and favourite sister. And as your best friend he had to do something, he had to talk to Clarisse and give her a piece of his mind. So that night, he was a man on a mission. He walked to the Ares cabin, and waited for Clarisse to either go or or go out. 
“Clarisse!” he called her name when she finally left her cabin.
“What do you want, Fletcher?” Clarisse sighed, clearly annoyed.
“Oh, so you do speak. And here I thought you lost that ability,” he snickered.
“I will punch you in the face.”
Lee rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.
“I’m not scared, unlike you.”
“What–.”
“You’re scared to talk to y/n for whatever reason, and I need you to pluck up the courage to talk to her because you’re making her miserable by avoiding her.”
“I–,” she froze. 
Was she making you miserable? 
“You’re just doing your thing and going to her when you need, when you want but have you ever thought about what she was thinking? No. You would if you’d just listened to her, but no,” he made a big gesture, “avoiding her like the plague.”
“Why are you telling me this?” she mumbled, looking away.
“I’m telling you that you made a mistake, and if you continue down this path you’re going to lose her for good. I’m not saying this for you, because I couldn’t care less about you, but y/n is my sister and I want her to be happy and for some reason you are making her happy,” he rolled his eyes, “so do whatever you want with this information.”
Clarisse stood there, not saying anything, watching Lee walking away. But then he stopped and turned around to walk toward her again. 
“Before I forget,” Lee added before throwing his strongest punch in her face. “For making my sister cry.”
And he ran away, before Clarisse could punch him back. But Clarisse was too busy thinking about you to think about Lee and what he just did. If it weren’t for that afternoon in the infirmary, she probably would’ve ran to you so you could take care of her, but now, she couldn’t. So she went to sleep, wishing that tomorrow it’ll be better.
You were one of the first campers to arrive for breakfast. You ate slowly, and by the time the dining pavilion was filled with campers, you were done. But you stayed and listened to your siblings talk. Just as you were about to leave, Clarisse came in and you dropped your fork in shock. She had a black eye and her cheek was bruised, with her nose in a weird shape. She looked at you, as you stood urgently. But then you froze – should you go to her? You sat back down, still staring at Clarisse. 
“What happened to her?” Will whispered to you.
“I don’t know,” you whispered back. 
“You don’t? I thought you were friends.”
“Yea, me too,” you sighed. 
Clarisse was walking to her table, dragging her feet along and when she walked past the Apollo table, you stood and grabbed hand, forcing her to face you. When you noticed several heads staring at you, you dragged Clarisse away and brought her to the archery field. 
“What happened to your face?” you held her face in your hands.
“Nothing,” she leaned into your touch. 
“Clarisse,” you whispered. “Just talk to me please.”
“Lee came to have a little chat with me yesterday.”
“He did this?” you gasped. 
“Yeah.”
You held your hand to your mouth, in shock and to hide a tiny part of you that wanted to laugh.
“And?” you asked.
“He said I was making you miserable.”
“That’s not true!” you insisted.
“I ignored you. And I shouldn't have. I don’t–” she hesitated, “want to lose you,” she mumbled.
“Then just talk to me, we’re friends too.”
“I– I don’t know,” she stepped back and took a deep breath. “I was confused! I– I don’t know I like it when you take care of me,” she admitted in a low voice. “I’m being weird and–.”
“You’re not,” you held her arms. “It’s not weird to love physical touch. I mean, I just assumed that it was your love language you know.”
“What?” she asked, confused. 
“I think what you like is when I hold you or when I touch you because you love physical touch,” you began, “and you were doing everything to visit me, pretending to be a bad fighter and getting hurt on purpose.”
“No that’s no–,” she shook her head.
“It’s fine! My love language is quality time, and there’s nothing wrong—.”
“No it’s different–.”
“It’s not! It’s fi—.”
“It’s because I like you,” she blurted out. 
Oh. You couldn’t help but smile at her confession. 
“It’s not funny!” she huffed, crossing her arms. 
“I’m not laughing! I’m… happy about this outcome,” you rested your head against her arms and looked up. “Because I like you too Clarisse.”
“Really?” she stared at you.
You nodded. 
“I’m sorry about ignoring you,” she added.
“Mmh,” you smiled, “I accept your apology. But you’ll have to make it up to me.”
“Anything you want.”
“A kiss?” 
Clarisse uncrossed her arms and held your face instead and leaned in to kiss you eagerly. And you happily gave in, wrapping your arms around her waist. 
“Mmh, keep doing that and I’ll forgive you, no doubt.”
465 notes · View notes
allysunny · 3 months
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Safe in my Arms
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Drunk!Fem!Reader
Synopsys: A nigth out with your friends turns into you getting drunk. You're lucky your sweet Miggy has come to pick you up.
Words: 3.5k words
Warnings: Alcohol and being drunk, duh, reader is said to be shorter than Miguel and is wearing makeup, lots of fluff and a bit of crack, some suggestive themes. It's just a nice, fluffy and funny fic overall. Untranslated spanish, do tell me if I fucked that up, please.
A/N: Hey everyone!!!! So, three nigths ago I got fucking plastered and I was wondering about how nice it would be if Miguel was there to pick me up and take care of me. I love this man so much, he'd be the best at taking care of a drunk person, fight me.
It's kinda short and it's not my best work, because when I thought about writing it, I was drunk,,, and as I sobered up the inspiration kind of disappeared? I still think it's rather sweet though, and I hope y'all will enjoy it.
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“There you are, mi vida,” An extremely tall and rather handsome man said as he approached you near the bar. You’d been hanging out with your friends, celebrating the very-much promotion one of them had gotten. So far, it had been amazing. You all had been downing drinks and dancing to the sound of the catchy pop music playing on the speakers, and while you admitted your head felt lighter than it should be, and your limbs were getting harder to move around, you were still having an amazing town.
“Who are you?” you asked, narrowing your eyes ever so slightly to try and get a look at the stranger’s face. All you could make out were sharp cheekbones, a strong jaw, and what seemed like a soft smile playing on his lips.
“It’s me, honey, it’s Miguel. I’m here to take you home, do you have your things?”
Half of the things he said went over your head, the music far too loud and drowning out most of his speech. You shook your head and took a few steps backwards, putting your hands up.
“Sorry man, not interested. I’m here with a couple of friends.” You turned away from him and faced the very same friends you had just mentioned. The one being celebrated, Katie, smiled, somehow not noticing the imposing figure that stood behind you. You simply took her hand and spun her around a few times, laughing loudly as your feet swayed and the two of you tripped over and over again.
Another girl approached you to – rather, Miguel, and sighed before offering him an apologetic smile.
“Sorry to call you, she’s incredibly drunk and I didn’t want her doing anything stupid. I think it’d better if she goes home.”
Miguel gave her a tight-lipped smile and chuckled.
“Thank you for calling me. Before she left home, she said, and I quote, ‘Don’t worry Miggy, I’ll maybe have one or two drinks and head home.” He turned to you, standing on wobbly legs, and shouting loudly over the music.
“Well, you know her.”
“I do.” He nodded, before taking a few steps forward. “Thank you for calling me again, I’ll take her home now.”
“Thanks. Let us know when you two make it?”
“Of course.”
The girl walked away, leaving Miguel to look around himself – somehow, you’d disappeared in the middle of the crowd, and for a few seconds, it scared him shitless. Where the shock had you gone? You were standing just a few feet away from him just now. He turned around, walking and dodging the dancing bodies on the dance floor before he spotted someone whose hair resembled yours. Squinting, he made out your figure, leaning over the bar and gesticulating wildly.
Miguel approached you, sighing once more.
“ – And make it a double!” you yelled, before turning to face your friend and continuing to chat excitedly.
“Honey, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to have another drink,” Miguel said as he walked up to you. He wanted to wrap an arm around your waist, or place a gentle hand on your lower back, but he knew you were intoxicated and might be upset that he was touching you so freely. So, he simply stood by your side, hands itching to touch, but never doing so.
“You again? Look man, I have no idea who you are, but I’d appreciate it if you left me alone.” You mumbled, eyeing him with disgust. “I have a boyfriend, and he could be here within a few minutes and kick your ass. So, if you don’t want to taste the floor, I’d recommend backing away from me.”
It broke Miguel’s heart to have you address him so roughly, with such harsh words. But it also filled him with a sense of pride – even intoxicated, you knew how to stand your ground. It also made him smile how you were quick to mention him.
“Cariño, it’s me, Miguel. I think you’ve had enough to drink, don’t you?” he asked, voice as gentle as possible, considering the loudness of the club.
You let out a snort and looked him up and down, suspicion evident in your eyes.
“You!? Miguel!? Yeah, sure, buddy. You’re not even half the man he is.”
Miguel crossed his arms, an amused smirk playing in his lips.
“Really? I’m not?”
“Not even close.” You faced the bar once again and smiled at the bartender who placed a drink in front of you.
“How so?”
“Well, first of all,” you took a sip of your drink, humming in appreciation, “You’re not as tall.”
“Ah. Not as tall?”
“Mhm. Miguel is huge, he’s this tall!” You faced him and stood on the tips of your toes, hand up to illustrate a height you clearly couldn’t reach. “He towers over me, you know, he’s huuuuuuuuge! And he’s super handsome, and you’re clearly not.”
“You don’t think I’m handsome?”
“Why would I? When I have my Miggy at home waiting for me?” You punctuated your statement with a large gulp from your drink. Miguel wanted to stop you, but he didn’t want to scare you by taking another step forward. “He’s the best boyfriend ever – you know, he gets up real early because he has a super important job, but he always makes time to cook breakfast for me.”
“He sounds like a dream,” The man before you nodded, leaning against the bar.
“Oh, he is. And he’s so kind and considerate. You know, people say he’s grumpy and mean, but I don’t really buy that.”
“Grumpy? Mean?” Miguel knew people didn’t think of him as the most affectionate or outgoing or overall happy person out there, but it was never nice to find out people spoke about him behind his back. Nothing he wasn’t used to, but it still hurt. However, your sweet words made up for it – they always did. You never chastised him for being standoffish, or for not being as excited as you were sometimes, or for being kind of a glum. You embraced him for who he was, giving him the space he needed when he needed it, and loving him and his traits completely. You never minded that he seemed a bit grumpy or rude, it was simply who he was. Besides, he was never rude to you. Sometimes he could be grumpy, yes, but he never once raised his voice at you or treated you badly. He was the sweetest when he was around you, all honest smiles, and relaxed hugs.
“Yeah. People say he’s like an all-year-round Grinch, but I don’t buy it. He’s so nice to me. He loves me so much and proves it every day. I don’t care what people say about him, I love him, and I think he’s fantastic, and really handsome, and so nice, and I love him, and I am not going to abandon him for you because we’re happy together. And you’re a stinky homewrecker!”
Miguel had to chuckle at that. He knew just how honest you were, and it would seem the alcohol in your blood was only amplifying that honesty. He nodded and reached for his phone, turning it on and showing you his lockscreen. Your face contorted in confusion as your eyes raked across the two figures on his phone. Your Miguel, in a dashing black suit, his arm tightly wrapped around you, wearing a dress that matched the colour of his burgundy tie.
You scrunched your nose, and looked from the picture to the strange man, and from the strange man to the picture.
“How do you have this picture of me and Miggy?”
“I told you, cariño, it’s me. I’m Miguel, I’ve come to pick you up.”
You shook your head.
“No, you’re not Miguel. I told you, you’re not as tall, nor as handsome, and you don’t sound like him. I’m not stupid, you know. I’m not gonna fall for this.”
You picked up your drink once more, and he sighed, trying to come up with something, anything that would make you stop drinking.
“How could I prove it to you?”
“Huh?” Your hand stopped mid-air and you frowned.
“How can I prove to you that I’m Miguel?”
“Hmmm….” You rubbed your chin comically and offered him a grin. “How did we meet?”
Miguel smiled softly.
“We were at the library. I wanted a book on Genetic Science, and you wanted a book on botany. Somehow, they were in the same shelf, although they really shouldn’t have been. I accidentally dropped by book when I saw you were on the other side of the shelf, and you helped me. The rest was history.”
Your expression of confusion had turned to a silly smile of content. You really did like your little meet-cute and bragged about having such a cute story to tell your friends and possibly your children in the future.
“Anyone could’ve told you that.”
“They really couldn’t.”
“Yeah, they could! Next question. What’s 40 + 40?”
Miguel raised an eyebrow.
“How does that prove anything?”
“My Miggy is super smart, he’d know the answer.”
“It’s 80. Honey, please, let’s go home. It’s getting late and you need to be taken care of, your hangover tomorrow is going to kill you, and I’d like to help minimize it.”
“What flowers did my Miggy bring me last week?”
“Peonies. Pink ones, just like the ones you’d seen at the park last month. I know just how much you liked them, so I brought a fresh bouquet home. You almost cried, because you were on your period, and you told me it was fate because just as I'd done something nice for you, you'd done something nice for me and had cooked me those empanadas I like.”
As the man before you recalled the memory, your features softened, and he shifted before your eyes. He wasn’t a stranger – far from it. That was your Miggy staring right at you. His kind brown eyes, his fluffy hair, his sharp jaw that you loved to trace with your fingers on lazy Sundays.
“Miggy?” your whole body relaxed, and you reached forward. Miguel understood immediately and gathered you in his arms, sighing of relief. Now that you remembered who he was, he could get you home safely. It’d be alright.
“Yeah, that’d be me.” He hugged you back tightly, rubbing circles on your back with his hand. “How about we go home? You need to get some rest.”
“You gonna take care of me, Miggy?” You looked up at him with a dazzling smile that he returned.
“Of course I am. You got your things?”
You move away from him to go back to your booth. You fetch your things (with a little bit of help from your boyfriend), say goodbye to your friends, and follow him outside of the club.
All it took was a few steps outside of the building and in the direction of Miguel’s car for you to lean over to your left and empty the contents in your stomach.
“Mierda,” Miguel whispered, holding back your hair and your clothes, and making sure you were okay. You weren’t. You sobbed for a while about how you were “utterly disgusting”, accused him of never wanting to see you again because he’d seen you puke and you were sure he was disgusted and thought you were disgusting, and now your life was ruined because you just loved him so much and you couldn’t live without him, and how were you supposed to move on when he was the love of your life and wanted to break up over some vomit?
“And – and – and I just love you so much – and if you leave me, I will never be the same, and I promise I will never vomit ever again, please don’t leave me, Miggy, we’re so happy together aren’t we? And there’s no need to ruin that over something as stupid as vomiting, and, and – “
“Ven aquí,” Miguel mumbled, pulling you close to him. He took a tissue out of his pocket – did he know this was gonna happen? – and wiped your mouth. Your eyes were sparkling as he placed a kiss on your forehead. “I’m not leaving you because you vomited. ¿Me entiendes?”
“Really?”
“Really. I love you, and no amount of vomit would make me stop loving you.”
You placed a hand on your mouth, making a gagging noise.
“Please don’t say ‘vomit’ again, or I’m – “
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. C’mon, let’s get you home.”
And that’s exactly what Miguel did. He brought you to his car, buckled you in (stopping halfway to kiss your face once or twice) and drove home. He was kind enough to not speed up too much, making sure to take turns extremely slow for your sake.
Once you got to your building, you nearly burst into tears again.
“The seventh floor!?” You exclaimed, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t wanna – I can’t do all of that. I’ll just sleep here, and you’ll come get me in the morning. How is that, huh?”
“C’mere, muñeca.”
Without any more words, he picked you up in his arms, and you sighed in relief, burying your face in his neck. He smelled like Alchemax and coffee and him and you felt like the smell itself could lull you to sleep. He carried you up the stairs up to the seventh floor as if it was nothing – and it really wasn’t.
“Alright, we’re here.” He said, opening the door to your shared apartment. He put you down and carried you to your couch, where he left you for a few minutes while he prepared a light snack and some pills.
“I don’t wanna eat, Miggy, don’t wanna throw up again,” you whined.
“You can’t take these on an empty stomach, and you need to take these, otherwise tomorrow your pretty little head is going to hurt like hell. So, eat up.”
You groaned and threw your head back, but complied, nonetheless. Your boyfriend was an Alchemax scientist (not to mention Spider-Man), so he was pretty smart. He must know what he’s doing.
“Fiiiiiiiiine….” You took the crackers in the plate in front of you and gulped them down in an instant. They were nice – soft enough for your stomach to keep them inside, but still tasty enough to feel like food. Miguel surely was smart, how did he even come up with this?
Once you were done, you downed the glass of water and the few pills Miguel had placed on top of the small coffee table in front of you. You had no idea what they were for, but if he told you to take them, then that must mean it was for your own good.
“Alright, ready to take a bath?” Miguel asked as he appeared from inside your bedroom.
“A bath?”
“Yeah, don’t you want to clean up before bed? I can help you.”
You shook your head, whining softly. Your head was beginning to spin a tad less than when you were in the club, but you were sure you were going to either fall asleep or fall on the floor should you want to take a bath.
“Miggy, ‘m so tired…” you mumbled, leaning your head against the couch’s headrest. “Can’t we just go to sleep? I’ll shower in the morning… You can shower with me in the morning you know, and you can do that thing I really like, the one with your tongue, and – “
“Sí, sí. I get it.” He chuckled lightly before moving towards you. Miguel helped you up, steading you with an arm around your waist, just like he’d wanted to do at the club. Only now, you were completely out of harm’s way. “At least let’s get your makeup off and brush your teeth. Is that okay?”
“Mhm. That’s okay.”
Miguel led you to the bathroom, where he placed you on top of the sink in front of him. You laughed as you often did at his displays of strength and closed your eyes as he gently cleaned your face and removed every trace of makeup. You liked the feel of his hands on your skin, on your face, taking care of you so sweetly. It felt extremely intimate to have him take care of you like this.
“I love you, Miggy. Thank you for taking care of me and not breaking up when I vomited.”
“¿Es en serio? Why would I break up with you over something so silly as that, huh, muñeca? I love you. I promised to always take care of you, didn’t I?”
You looked into his eyes and nearly melted. There was nothing but kindness and adoration in his, and when you put your palm against his cheek to caress it, he turned to kiss it softly. His fangs grazed your hand and you chuckled. Your little vampire Spider-Man.
“You’re so good to me,” you mumbled. “Is my head gonna hurt tomorrow?”
“Most likely. And I don’t think you’ll remember any of our interactions tonight.”
“Really? Well then, you better take advantage of that.”
“How so?”
“Well, you could tell me something you didn’t want me to remember.”
Miguel pretended to think for a while, stroking an invisible beard and earning a few chuckles form you. Then, he placed his hands on either side of you on the side and brought his face closer to yours before beginning to whisper in that low voice of his that always got you blushing.
“I love you. Te amo con todo mi corazón. Eres mi todo. Mi vida. I could never part from you.” He stroked your cheek with the back of your hand, eyes never leaving yours. “I don’t think I say this nearly as much as I should, but I’m so grateful to have you in my life. And I want you to be in it forever. I want to marry you, someday. I’ll take you somewhere real nice and propose and promise to devote my life to you forever. I’ll love and worship you like a goddess because that’s what you deserve. I was so broken before I met you, so lonely and empty. I don’t think I ever knew what true love was until we met. All my life I’ve felt alone. My relationships seemed superficial. And then you came along and changed all that. I’m not afraid of saying these things when you’re sober, it’s just – you know how bad I can be with words and feelings sometimes. And we’ve never really discussed marriage or anything like that, and I wouldn’t want to scare you. But my point is, thank you, cariño. You’re everything to me.”
You were speechless. You didn’t know what to say, so you clumsily wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him to you. Big fat tears were rolling down your cheeks, the alcohol in your blood making you more emotional. It was true – your Miguel wasn’t a man of many words. He would rather show his love and appreciation for you through actions. Cooking you dinner, bringing you your favourite sweets, remembering small details you’d told him days before. So, it made it all the more special when he did speak, especially when his words were this sweet.
“You’re so sweet, Miggy. I love you so much.”
Miguel helped you brush your teeth, and then he carried you to your bedroom, where he took off your clothes (or rather, helped you wrestle out of them) and helped you put on your favourite pyjamas.
“We’ll just get some clean sheets tomorrow,” he mumbled as he helped you lay down next to him. You wanted to toss and turn a few times, but after your stomach started complaining about all the movement, you decided to stay still and curl up into Miguel’s side.
“Dulces sueños, mi vida. If you need anything during the night, just let me know.”
“Okay. Night, Miggy. Love you, Miggy. Thanks for picking me up.” you nodded, nuzzling into his pectoral. Miguel felt something wet covering his chest and realised you were already out and drooling all over him. He chuckled – it wasn’t a problem for him. He’d let you do whatever as long as you were safe and sound and comfortable. And if you felt all those things in his arms, who was he to complain?
And as you fell into a deep slumber, you smiled, feeling your boyfriend’s grip tighten around you.
The following day, you did have a killer headache (that could’ve been much worse if Miguel hadn’t advised you to take those pills) and your limbs felt heavy and weird, and when Miguel asked you if you had any memories of the previous night, you shook your head and told him no.
You did not tell him the sweet words he’d said to you, about a future and marriage were engraved in your brain, and your heart.  
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A/N: And that's it!! Once again, I hope you guys have liked it. I am aware that it's short, and I haven't written for Miguel in a while, so I hope he's not too OOC. I need to write for my man some more, I have some nice requests for him, and I still have to continue Royal Secret omg, but my exam period is coming up and I'm getting kinda swarmed with papers and reports and whatnot. Luckily, I'll be able to write more when all of that is over.
I hope y'all have a wonderful day ahead!!!! <3
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velvetcrimsonkisses · 3 months
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JJK Men General Relationship Headcanons
Note: my first writing hope yall like it... feel free to leave requests
WC: 1.1k
CW: None just fluff
Neutral!reader x gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso
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GOJO SATORU
Bro is a menace. Will make you question why you are dating him everyday. He just likes making you mad yk those types of guys that flirt with you by being mean to you. HE'S ONE OF THEM
Spoils tf out of you. I feel like he would give you gifts and he definitely makes a big deal about it. He loves LOUD
Definitely the type to make you wear a G-letter necklace and you can NEVER take it off. I’m crying 
 His love language is physical touch. No arguing. He NEEDS to be touching you 24/7. Hugs from behind are his favorite omg and with him so tall and all. My ass is 5’9 and he’s 6’4 just ughhhhhh 
Random thought but I feel like he's a nail biter. Yeah he acts cool and all but, that's how that mf relieves his anxiety. He be munchin fr. So if yall bite your nails too (i do) you can bond with that 
GETO SUGURU
Ah Geto! I feel like he's the type of guy that is quiet around everyone else besides you. He opens up to you and tells you everything when he gets comfortable.
He also spoils you but it’s more quiet in a way. Yk how people say private but not a secret. That’s yalls relationship. 
He loves loves loves calling I feel. He will always facetime or call. When he's playing videos or smth yall are on the phone. 
Love Language is definitely acts of service. He cooks and cleans, Definitely has GREAT hygiene. He just always smells so yummy. 
Random thought but, he definitely always wears a hair tie on his wrist. For you or for him but mostly for you. Also weirdly he also always has chapstick. Pookie don’t have not one crack in them luscious lips. The flavor imma has to say good old strawberry. 
NANAMI KENTO 
WHEN I TELL YOU I CREAMED MY PANTIES the day I saw a tiktok where it said he was 200lbs. IMAGINE that hunk of a man smothering you in kisses and cuddles. OMG I love this man. 
He’s like Geto. He loves you quietly. But he's the type of man that would date to marry. You bet your ass he's gonna marry you. I wanna marry him. Everyone wants to marry him. 
He loves coming home from work just to be with you. You are his peace. I feel like he’d like bag rubs and he’d like giving you sum too yk. You feel me. 
Love language is definitely quality time. Imagine baking bread with him. OMG i love baking guys i’d bake him anything. But yeah cute little date yall can have. So cute so domestic. 
Random thought but I feel like he’d ask for you to iron his clothes yk since he always wears a suit. Like he could def do it himself but he just likes watching you do it. He def has that “in love” stare while watching you. NANAMI 
TOJI FUSHIGURO
DADDY
I feel like out of all the guys for him he would take the longest to fall in love with you or actually realize that he has feelings for you but, once he realizes he's WHIPPED 
He’d do anything.. Tell him to go to the store no questions asked. You don’t feel like cooking. He’ll try his be… yall are ordering food. Need a foot rub, he's right there on the couch with you watching whatever show YOU like rubbing your feet. 
I'm sorry but I have them daddy issues. Like if yall argue or smth and he makes you cry or makes you upset, he doesn’t mean too. He'd feel so bad and he’d be the BEST comforter (is that a word?). Like he just holds you and stuff and apologizes. 
Love language… This a tough one. Imma go with words of affirmation. I feel like he takes pride in being told he's doing smth good yk. Hes just trying his best to not fuck up another relationship yk so please tell that poor baby he’s doing good. 
Random thought but let's say in my little world of fanfiction he never left Megumi. It'd be important to him that Megumi likes the woman he’s with yk. Let that motherly instinct kick in. 
CHOSO KAMO
THE LITERAL LOML. 
YOU have to teach him how to be in a relationship. He won’t know nun. Like yes he knows women and men like each other, they get married and shit, and have babies. But he doesn’t know how to yk romance you ig. BUT YOU BEST BELIEVE HE WILL TRY THE HARDEST
He will def be the type to ask around and read up on it. Bringing you flowers and chocolate yk little gifts here and there. Always telling you he loves you and DATES so many dates. He wants everyone to know yall are together. HE IS YOURS. He’d def be the type to ask, “can i be your bf?” instead of “be my gf” yk. Yall know what i'm talkin bout.
Not that this man has anything to be insecure about but, I feel like once he is out in the public and stuff he notices that no one has any marks like his over his nose. He’d just feel a little uncomfortable but don’t let him. KISS HIS MARK PLEASEEEEE. God he blush so much and that embarrassment about it will fade completely. SO CUTE i just wanna nibble him. 
Love language.. I could literally write a 5 page essay with works cited on how he could be all 5 but, well go with physical touch rn. The first time yall kissed, he could’ve sworn he was in heaven. He def pulled away with his eyes still closed savoring the moment. He literally is always kissing you and hugging you. He's so clingy in a good way. Always holds your hand in public. DO NOT SPLIT THE POLE. He would be on the verge of tears (I'm being dramatic). 
Random thought but he’d def be the type of guy who would be like “let me ask my gf.” He knows he doesn’t need your permission to do stuff but he just likes telling you and letting you know. He so ugh…i just want him in my pocket is that too much to ask. 
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x0xomady · 1 month
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the after party
pt. 2 - 🌟
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆
summary: 1 month after the breakup you go to a frat party with your best friend. of course it’s harry’s frat.
warnings: smut, p in v, dirty talk, kinda public sex (car), degradation, MANIPULATION! cursing, TOXIC love bombing, alcohol. 18+
song inspo: ✧˖°.
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆
“please don’t make me go” i groan. my best friend, y/bsf/n, is running around my room trying to find a cute dress and heels for me to wear.
“shut the hell up y/n you’re going” she rolls her eyes and continues shuffling through my closet. i sigh in defeat and lay down on my bed. maybe if i play dead…
“oh my gosh this is perfect! harry is going to lose his shit when he sees this!” she squeals and pulls out my navy blue, satin, mini dress. i had bought it for harry and i’s 2 year anniversary, but obviously we didn’t make it there.
“no. i’m not wearing that.” i roll my eyes and shake my head at my best friend. “plus im not trying to make harry jealous or upset. this isn’t about him.”
“ugh! come on y/n! you have got to move on! it’s already been a month. besides, i know you want to get laid… this could be your opportunity!” she smiles and tosses me the dress while walking back to the closet to find me some heels.
i sigh and look down at the dress on my lap. it is really pretty i have to admit it. the dress has little sequin details and is strapless.
“cmon y/n you know this is important to me! we can’t miss a party like this. especially this one.” she smiles and tosses me matching navy blue heels.
y/bsf/n is right… this is THE party. every year harry’s frat throws a big blow out party right after we get out for spring break. everyone goes and tries to get in… but usually only people that know the frat get in.
“i’m just worried. what if it’s awkward when i see him? the last time i saw harry was 3 weeks ago and we didn’t even make eye contact.”
“babe don’t worry! you guys didn’t end on bad terms there’s no reason for it to be awkward. just be yourself and talk to people.” she gives me an encouraging smile and walks to the bathroom to do her makeup so i can get dressed.
one night out couldn’t hurt…. could it?
✧˖°.
we arrived at the party at 10:30. it was the perfect time to go to a frat party. everyone was already there and drunk. seeing as this is the biggest frat on campus and the most anticipated day of the year for most guys, it was packed to the brim.
as soon as the door opens we are met with hundreds of people crammed in the large house. there’s music playing loudly and music booming throughout the room. i despise frat guys. it all seems like one big cult to me. so why did i date one for two years? good question. i have no fucking idea.
we walk through the familiar large house together. there’s bottles, bags, and trash scattered across the floor. people are dancing, making out, and drinking.
ugh kill me now.
it’s so dirty. i carefully step over broken bottles in my stiletto heels. usually for frat parties i would just wear a jean miniskirt and a cute top, but tonight was different. it was like prom for college students.
y/bsf/n has already run off to find her current boyfriend, zayn. he’s one of harry’s good friends.
ugh. harry.
the nagging in my stomach and anxiety in my mind was slowly creeping up on me. harry and i hadn’t ended on the most amazing terms but we hadn’t ended badly either.
it’s a weird situation.
harry and i have a bit of a toxic cycle we like to go through. every couple of months harry gets distracted or bored so he dumps me. then about a month later he comes crawling back begging for me to take him back because he ‘loves me’. it’s not all his fault, no matter how many times this has happened, i go back to him each time.
my eyes are eagerly scanning the room. maybe it’s in hopes of seeing the curly headed boy. maybe it’s dread of seeing him. either way i just wanted to get this long night over with so i could lay in bed depressed about the break up.
usually when i come to frat parties i would make a b-line to the couches where all the frat members and their significant others sit and drink. wouldn’t it be weird if i did that now though?
however, it’s only been 10 minutes and my feet hurt like a bitch. i need those couches.
i make my way past the dance area and bar towards the living room.
there, i see y/bsf/n and zayn talking and drinking, as well as our other friends talking, but no harry.
my eyes scan the large room quickly but i see no sign of him.
“hi petal”
my heart stops. harry.
i would recognize his deep voice anywhere. my breathing catches in my throat as i turn around to see him.
there he is… harry. after 3 weeks of no contact and trying to get over him, it all hit me like a bus again.
“hey”
“you look-” harry stops and looks down at my dress. “really fucking perfect”
blush instantly paints my cheeks as he compliments me.
fuck fuck fuck! no don’t fall for his bullshi-
“seriously… this dress- fuck.” harry smirks and carefully lets his hands rest on my hips.
“harry…”
“hm?”
“don’t.” i push his hands off my sides and take a step back from the oh so tempting man in front of me.
“don’t what?” he smiles at me innocently and steps towards me again.
no y/n. NO.
i’ve worked so hard over the last 3 weeks to forget him and move on… if i gave in all of that would go to shit and i’d be right back where i started… desperately in love with harry.
“i’ve missed you so much” harry leans down and whispers in my ear, his cheek brushing mine.
“well that’s too bad” i roll my eyes and avoid eye contact with him.
“cmon petal look at me.” harry grabs my chin gently and moves my head to look at him. reluctantly i sigh and look at harry. his piercing green eyes meet mine and it all comes back to me.
“what do you want harry?” i ask while looking into his eyes.
“you.” harry smiles and nudges my nose with his. his ring adorning fingers make their way from my chin across my face. harry holds my jaw and cheek gently.
“well that’s too bad. you had me and you fucked that up.”
“i know i did… im so sorry y/n.” harry looks into my eyes innocently and caresses my face carefully.
suddenly the room feels 10x hotter and my dress feels so constricting. i needed to get away from harry.
i step away from harry and walk out towards the large main room. people are everywhere, so it’s not hard to escape from him.
“y/n wait-”
i ignore harry and continue walking. my body carefully brushes past people as i maneuver my way through the dancing and drinking. my eyes spot the large front doors and i sigh in relief.
without hesitation i push myself through the front door and walk out onto the large lawn. the cold air instantly hits my body and i feel a huge relief run over me.
there’s still a line of people trying to get into the dumb frat party. i pass them and head down the street. the street is almost empty… it has to be at least 12:00 right now so it’s not surprising the streets are clear.
my feet mindlessly make their way down the sidewalk towards the familiar park. seeing the big empty park ahead of me brings a smile to my face.
i walk into the park and make my way over towards one of the benches. it’s as beautiful as i remember it. the large trees cover the sky making it look dark and eerie. the only light being the small lampposts that line the path.
my body finally relaxes when i sink back against the chair and let out a breath i didn’t even realize i was holding in.
however, that peace is ruined when i hear the familiar roar of a certain someone’s car.
“y/n! what the hell?!” the car shuts off and i hear the crunching of footsteps make their way towards me.
i don’t look up at him and instead continue looking down at the ground. harry steps in front of me and squats down so he’s in my eye line.
“why’d you run away petal?” he asks while looking at me from where he’s squatting.
“it was hot in there.” i roll my eyes and lean back against the bench. “did you follow me? that’s creepy”
“i didn’t follow you.” harry shakes his head with a smirk. “i just knew you would be here. you would come to this damn park after every argument we had.”
fuck. he looks so beautiful like this.
the moonlight was peaking through the tops of the trees carefully painting his face. harry stands up from where he was sitting and plops onto the bench next to me.
“why did you come after me? you should’ve stayed at your party.”
“because i love you.”
there it is.
i don’t respond at first. my eyes continuing to make their way throughout the park, in a desperate search for escaping this.
i wanted nothing more than to scream and yell at harry. i wanted to hurt him because he hurt me, but the fact was i couldn’t. i could never yell at harry… i love him just as much as he loves me, probably even more.
“don’t say that.” i glare at harry and then look away quickly.
“why not? you love me too. we both know it’s true.”
yeah. he’s right. it fucking pains me to say… but harry is right.
i loved harry more than anything and anyone on the planet. him simply existing made me more madly in love with him every single day.
“cmon petal… come back to me. you know i love you.” harry whispers into my ear and kisses my cheek.
goosebumps fill my skin as his soft lips trace my cheek. harry’s warm breath danced across my skin making my heart flutter.
“harry stop it. you can’t do this.” i put my hand on his cheek and push him away from my face gently. “you always do this! you break up with me and then come back trying to hook up a few weeks later."
harry pushes out his bottom lip playfully and puts his hand on my waist.
“please baby? i miss you so much. i was so stupid i'm sorry.” he whispers and wraps his arm around my waist. the internal conflict starts swirling through my brain.
on one hand i know that harry just wants to fuck and then date for a few months before dumping me. however, on the other hand, i want nothing more than to jump on him and forget we ever had a fight in the first place.
harry can sense my temptation because he grabs my hips and pulls me towards him so i’m sitting comfortably on his lap.
“see? we can have our own little after party.” harry smirks kisses me right below the jaw.
i know i should shove him away and run, but i REALLY don’t want to.
harry puts one hand on hip and the other holds my jaw tightly. the cool of his rings against my flushed skin makes shivers run down my spine. he pulls me against him more so our lips aren’t more than few centimeters apart.
fuck it
i grab harry’s face and pull him to me. the second our lips touch my entire body erupts and i feel the love i have for harry rush back to me. i feel harry’s cocky smirk against my lips last only for a second before he’s pushing his tongue into my mouth.
the kiss is intense, three weeks of pent up anger and frustration sits in my stomach as i run my hands through his curls.
harry holds my jaw tightly while kissing me thoroughly. i tug lightly on harry’s curls resulting in him releasing a whimper.
i move my hips forwards so i’m sitting right over harry’s prominent bulge. harry lets out a breathy moan and kisses my neck.
“h-harry” i sigh and wrap my arms around his neck.
“hm?” he doesn’t bother pulling away from my neck, instead biting my shoulder softly. i moan and press my core against harry in a desperate search for release. harry smirks and kisses my collarbone. “so fucking needy petal. thought you hated me?”
i roll my eye my eyes and lean into harry’s kisses. as much as i hate to admit it, it feels so fucking good to have him kiss me like this.
“just shut up and take me to your car curly."
“as you wish.” harry grins and scoops me up. my legs are wrapped around his hips for stability.
harry quickly walks down the path and towards his truck. we get situated in the backseat of his car quickly. im laying on my back on the seat as harry slams the door and crawls over my body.
in no time harry’s pants are off and my dress is hiked up to my waist with the top of it pulled down to expose my tits.
harry grabs my thighs pushing them open and looks down with a strained facial expression. he moves his head down towards the spot between my legs but i stop him.
“don’t harry. just fuck me already i need it.” i whine and wrap my legs around his hips.
harry chuckles and pulls my panties down my legs. “see? so fucking needy. such a pretty little slut hm? i missed you.” he kisses my neck hiking my hips up to rest on his thighs.
i moan softly as harry presses the head of his cock against my folds. harry, being harry, has to tease me before he can do anything. “so fucking wet. s’ pathetic baby. i haven’t even touched you properly yet and your little panties are soaked to the core."
harry runs his tip from the bottom of my slit to my throbbing clit. i whine and buck my hips up to get some sort of relief from harry. he grabs my hips and holds them down.
“shh need to make sure your little pussy can take me baby. i haven’t filled you up in so long. might not be able to fit it all.” harry smirks and nudges the tip of his cock in my sopping hole.
“stop it h! just hurry up and fuck me!” i whine and try pressing my hips up but harry’s strong hands are holding them down against the leather seats of his car. harry continues teasing me by slowly inching his cock in.
“yeah? okay baby i’ll stop teasing you.” harry punctuates the end of his sentence by bucking his hips up into me pushing his cock to the hilt. i groan and grab harry’s hair tightly as he fucks up into me.
harry is quickly in a rhythm of fucking me hard. the sounds of his hips hitting mine and breathy moans from the both of us are the only thing heard in the tiny confines of the car.
“harry need more please.” i groan and wrap my arms around harry's neck as he fucks me harder.
“do you have any idea how much i missed you? your little pussy does fucking wonders on me i swear- ” he lets out a muffled groan while he pushes his face into the crook of my neck.
i try to ignore it… but i can’t. the flutter in my heart grows as i look at harry who’s busy keeping the pace of his hips steady. he has no idea how much i love him.
“how are you this damn tight? it’s like i’m fucking you for the first time all over again. gonna have to loosen up this sweet thing all over again.” harry moans while increasing the speed of his hips. his pelvic bone hits my clit perfectly and i buck my hips up in desperate search for stimulation.
“yeah? my baby needs me to play with her little button, hm?” harry smirks and snakes his hand from my jaw to rub tight circles on my clit.
the stimulation from harry’s thick cock fucking me deeply and his rough fingers playing with my sensitive spot, i feel my orgasm approach quickly.
“harry!” i gasp as he deepens his thrusts pushing all the way to the hilt.
“cmon petal cum for me. i can feel you clenching. milk my cock.” he squeezes my hips and continues thrusting into my warmth relentlessly.
i’m too fucked out to even respond. i just sit there and let harry continue the sweet assault on my pussy.
“oh that’s it cum for me baby.” harry groans as i cum around his cock. he looks down at our adjoined body and watches the milky ring of my cum sit at the base of his cock.
harry thrusts a few more times before pulling out and releasing his cum across my chest.
we both lay there and harry grabs his shirt wiping up the mess between my thighs and on my carefully. i sigh and sit up slowly pulling my dress up to cover my top again. the guilt of what i just did slowly starts creeping up on me.
“harry-"
“don’t baby just let me love you okay? i’m sorry for everything. i love you.” harry kisses my cheek and fixes his pants.
i pause for a moment thinking about everything that just happened but reluctantly i nod. “okay… i love you too."
the cycle always repeats itself and i let it
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆
we love some toxic harry
-xoxo ⋆⭒˚.⋆
371 notes · View notes
imaginidol · 11 months
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Yunho: Table Manners
!!mentions of nsfw!! 18+ !! do NOT interact if you don’t like smut!! As requested, here is another ateez smut fic! I haven’t even finished my ot8 fluff stories and I’m already pumping these out ahead of time! Naughty atiny!! In case you are interested, here is a San ver. smut and a Hongjoong ver. smut and a Mingi ver. smut, Wooyoung ver. smut and jongho ver. Smut. I’ve already gotten another asmuteez request so be on the look out for that if you NEED it *squints suspiciously at you*
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"A pleasure to finally meet you," Wooyoung quickly bows his head in your direction, followed by a gentle greeting from the rest of the ATEEZ boys.
Tonight was a special night, as it was the first night Yunho was properly introducing you to his best friends in the world as his official romantic partner.
He had invited his members out to a very nice dinner for the occasion, and everyone had dressed casually elegant.
You, however, looked exceptionally beautiful in your choice of clothing for the occasion: a slim-fitted black halter-maxi dress with a plunging neckline, all of which graciously outlined the alluring curvature of your body. Your hair was pinned in a high ponytail and your sparkling heels complemented the final look well.
It was no secret that you were total eye candy at first sight, and one of Yunho's members in particular had taken special notice as well.
As the night progressed, the initial light conversation turned into full conversations about hobbies, industry gossip, how-we-met stories, and other fun interests.
Wooyoung takes a slow sip of his white wine, turning his attention to you.
"You said you'd want to learn more about recording songs, right?"
"I'd love to, actually," you smile, turning to Yunho. "Will you take me one day?"
Yunho's eyes softened. "I'll bring you this week to studio, if you'd like."
"Thank you! I feel like it would be so fun to see how you guys work!"
"Why don't you record stuff for fun while you're there?" Wooyoung smirks, taking another sip of his wine. "I could show you a few things, too."
"Really?" you smile eagerly, "What about music production, could we try that too?"
Wooyoung nodded, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms, eyeing you steadily. "I could definitely do that for you."
"Wooyoung, you're not too buzzed yet, yeah?" Hongjoong says, rubbing his palm against a now half-drunken Wooyoung's neck.
Wooyoung scoffs, shaking his head quietly. "Nah, not yet."
Yunho takes notice of his friend's odd behavior. While he wouldn't be upset if Wooyoung did find you attractive, he was going to be upset if Wooyoung intended to do something about it and passively flirt around you all night long.
"Would you please excuse us," Yunho politely nods towards the rest of his members, pulling his chair back to stand and lightly tapping you on the shoulder.
"Oh?" you look up at your boyfriend and let him wrap his hand around yours as you follow him out to the restroom hallway.
"What's wrong, babe?" you place a hand against Yunho's arm as he turns towards you, his fingers rubbing his eyes in visible annoyance.
"It's nothing that's necessarily your fault, but I don't... I think... I think Wooyoung's got an eye on you, or something like that."
"Wooyoung?" you start giggling, cupping a hand around Yunho's jaw. "Awe, are you getting jealous?"
"Shh, it's not funny," he mutters, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling.
"Yunho, I don't think I've ever seen or heard you when you're jealous. I kind of like it," you tease, placing your hands against his chest and leaving a soft kiss against his lips.
"Just don't give him too much attention anymore, alright? I'll deal with him after," he mumbles into your lips. He gently wraps his arms around your waist, not wanting to think about his friend's behavior anymore.
"But, does this mean I can't go to your recording studio anymore?"
Yunho's eyebrows furrow slightly. "Only if you're with me, and you let me show you how things work."
"Oh?" you cock your head to the side, smiling, "So, no Wooyoung?"
Yunho's eyes grow hooded. "You want him to come? What, so you like his attention on you now?"
You shrugged. "I guess I like it when I get attention," you smirk.
Yunho furrows his brows more, studying your expressions carefully.
She's doing it again, he thinks.
"You're doing it again," he mutters out loud.
"What am I doing?" you say, placing your index fingers around his belt loops.
"Don't fuck around with me like that, especially not with Wooyoung," he mumbles in a low grating voice, bringing his face closer to yours.
"Okay, I won't," you smile, "just as long as it means you are giving me all the attention I want."
Yunho's eyes jump from your eyes to your lips, his hands still clutched around your waist. "And what if I don't? Should I get worried?"
You drop your smile quickly as you bring a hand up to his face, rubbing your thumb steadily against his bottom lip. "I'll get it from Wooyoung."
Yunho immediately rams his lips into yours out of pure frustration, shoving your back against the wall.
"Say it again, I fucking dare you," Yunho mutters breathily, digging his fingernails into your ass.
You let out a soft groan as you feel his harsh kisses trace a line from your jaw down your neck, both your hands now gripping his waist.
"If I see you giving him the attention he wants one more time, I'll fuck the shit out of you until you regret it," he hisses.
"Do I... do I have to wait to give him attention for me to get that punishment?" you tease softly, pulling against his belt loops again.
"Fuck it, you're done for," he snarls, looking over his shoulder and locating your next impromptu destination: a janitor's closet.
He quickly pulls you in, shutting the lights off and locking the door behind him before turning his attention back to you.
You feel his strong hands wrap around your back as he slams your body against the wall behind you, making a rattling noise as several custodial objects toppled all over the floor in the process.
You tug at his pants desperately, begging with your fingers for him to take them off.
"Oh, fuck no, you're not getting shit unless you beg me for it," he snarls, slapping your hands away from his belt and unzipping the back of your dress.
You whine in protest, pulling your arms out of your sleeve holes and slipping out of your heels in a few swift motions as Yunho pulls his sleeves up to his elbows.
Yunho lifts a couple fingers to his lips and quickly drenches them in spit before proceeding to glide his hand down your stomach and into your panties.
"Yunho,” you whisper as you feel his fingers find their way onto your clit. He began massaging you gently; kneading strategically against your sensitive happy button as soft moans began escaping your lips.
“You like that, princess?” he mumbles under his breath, soft grunts escaping his lips as he felt you drenching his fingers more and more.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he hisses, scrunching his face in deep pleasure as he felt a boner rising somewhere deep within his pants.
He raises an arm against the wall next to your head and encloses his mouth around yours, keeping his other hand busy rubbing two drenched fingers against your bean. You have one arm wrapped around his shoulder and neck, the other tugging desperately at his arm as you raised one leg around his hips, nudging him to start fingering you.
"You want attention, princess?" he breathes, biting your lip profusely as he followed his fingers down your labia to reach your hole.
"Fuck," you whimper, raising your leg higher in desperation at the feel of Yunho's steady fingers gently teasing your entrance.
"Beg for it," he sneers, his breath hot against your neck as he cravingly bit into your skin.
"Please, finger me already," you whimper, "just please fucking finger me!"
“You’re so fucking needy,” Yunho scoffs, inserting his fingers into you and pulling out steadily, his cock now fully hardened and poking you through his clothed crotch.
Your soft moans being to match the pace of his fingers sliding in and out of you, your hole growing wetter and looser alongside his every rapturing stroke.
"Please, Yunho, fuck me," you achingly plead, shamelessly tugging at his zipper in an attempt to pull it down.
"You're gonna be fucking patient," he growled, seeing as how your itched fingers had managed to thirstily slide their way underneath his boxers.
You pulled down his boxers and out popped his wet, hardened cock. You traced circles around his tip as he kept ramming his fingers in and out of you, ignoring your hungry requests for more.
Suddenly, a devious thought lingered through your mind.
"You know,” you smile, “I bet Wooyoung would've had his cock inside of me already a long fucking time ago," you tease.
That sentence alone is enough to force Yunho to rip his dress shoes, black turtleneck, and pants off his body, desperately fumbling his way out.
You clench your jaw as he lifts your legs off the ground and wraps them around his waist, his hardened member already seeping wet drops of cum at its tip.
"Say... that... again... SAY IT!!" he pants desperately as he begins pushing himself roughly into you, every word coming out of his mouth in unison with each deep thrust. Your loud moans began to fill the otherwise quiet and voided air around you.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you moan loudly, clawing your fingernails deeply into the soft canvas of porcelain-like skin of his back as each intensifying stroke slipped in and out of your pink-fleshed caverna.
--
"They've been gone awhile; do you think they're alright?" Yeosang turns to Hongjoong, taking a sip of his hot tea as quiet jazz tunes play from the ceiling speakers above.
"Hmm," Hongjoong turns toward the end of the restaurant where he last saw you and Yunho disappear. "Don't know."
"Probably arguing, as healthy couples do," Jongho says, taking a bite of fish cake. "Wooyoung, I blame you,” he sneers through a mouthful of food. “Keep your eyes to yourself next time, yeah? It's bro code."
"Right," Hongjoong turns back around thoughtfully, popping some kimchi into his mouth.
--
You slam both hands against the wall as Yunho roughly turns you onto your stomach, spreading your legs wide as he began hitting it from the back.
Yunho's bangs are drenched as tiny drops of sweat splash onto your hot, glossy back, both your bodies growing warmer under the intensifying and sexy heat of friction. With every passing desirous moan and grunt, Yunho thrusts himself deeper into you, bending over to firmly clasp his hands around your hips and then biting profusely into your neck.
Loud moans escape your lips as you're no longer able to keep them in, your body under complete control of the boy masterminding an orchestra of your vocal chords behind you.
Yunho's breathy gasps slowly turn to soft whimpers as his wet, throbbing member slips in and out of your loosened warm, velvety inner walls. He seemingly felt himself on the verge of reaching his limit, but refused to let go until you reached the pleasure you oh-so wonderfully deserved.
"C'mon, baby," Yunho whispers into your ear as you throw your head back into his shoulder, "cum for me already," he whispers gently. At that, he begins fucking you harder and faster, throwing any and all signs of polite and gentle sex out the window.
You fail to hold in a loud, pleasurable groan as your lower abdomen is joyously overwhelmed by the full extortion of your final orgasm, to which Yunho takes the full and pleasurable joy of feeling his throttling member drench completely at your release.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit," Yunho hisses, sinking his teeth deep into his bottom lip as the sensation of your warmth overwhelms his hot, throbbing member. He pulls out quickly with only seconds of limited time to jerk himself off before a steaming hot jet stream of cum shoots all over your back.
"Fuck," Yunho takes a couples steps back, outstretching his arms to lean against the wall in front of him with you underneath. He leans in gently, lowering his warm body against your back as several of his soft kisses are gently planted against your cheek. The small janitorial closet grew quiet except for the heavy panting in an attempt to catch your breaths. He looked around and only hoped that the custodians of this restaurant would take deep-cleaning requests seriously, and he cursed himself quietly under his breath for the uncanny mess that was left of the small room. He planted one last soft kiss against your shoulder as he stepped back and started shuffling through the storage bins in search of a roll of paper towels.
"Don't move, baby," he muttered, wiping what he could of his mess off your back and in between your legs. He folded the paper towel and with it finished wiping himself down, though he knew that you two wouldn't be fully clean until you managed to take a shower sometime later that night.
"Sorry, baby," he hummed, balancing you on your feet as he helped you pull your dress back on and slip into your heels. "I'll try to find an excuse for us to go home as quickly as possible."
You giggled as you helped your boyfriend dress himself next, leaving a quick, soft kiss against his V-line before pulling his pants up and zipping them shut.
"I'm gonna be so sore tomorrow," you sigh under your breath, annoyedly pinching your boyfriend's waist as you both awkwardly stepped out of the closet.
"How do I look?" you tiredly smile up to your boyfriend, trying to pat down your hair as best as you could. Streaks of your runny eye makeup and faded lipstick made him giggle softly, a proud trophy he considered after the sinful events of the last twenty minutes.
"You look like you've learned your lesson," he smirks, leaning over to plant a soft kiss against your cheek. He pulls out another paper towel and begins to gently touch up your makeup the best that he could, though with all his best efforts you still looked like you were lawlessly railed without any signs of regret.
"What about me? Do I look presentable?"
You giggled at the sight of his wrinkled shirt and mess of drenched hair, running your fingers through his bangs in an attempt to make him look not-so-guilty of the heinous acts he'd just committed out of distasteful jealousy.
--
"Oh, there you are. We thought you guys had left already," Yeosang smiles as you and Yunho hobbled awkwardly into your seats. You flinched as you sat, still feeling the rawness in your hole where Yunho had recklessly fucked you like it was no one’s immediate business.
"Were you crying?" Jongho says, noticing the smudged residue of mascara and eyeliner that Yunho had failed to completely wipe clean. Yunho takes notice and proceeds to gently pat a napkin against your face.
Yunho smiled assuringly in your direction. “What? No, those are happy tears, you see," he teased, flashing you a pretty grin with perfect teeth.
"Oh? That's good to hear, then," Wooyoung sighed, nudging Jongho's arm. "See? They weren’t arguing.”
Jongho rolls his eyes.
“Anyhow,” Hongjoong continues, turning to face you, "you’re very beautiful and we very much appreciated getting to finally meet you,” he smiles, turning his attention to Yunho next. “She's a real gem, so never forget to treat her right,” he finishes, sending a small wink in your direction.
Yunho squeezed your thigh under the table, turning a gentle smile back in your direction.
"Trust me when I say, taking good care of her is my top priority."
2K notes · View notes
scarvain · 3 months
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hiii, can I request something for Dominic like? just whatever idrc, ill be happy with everything
✶ number one fan — dominic fike x reader
SUMMARY: you're supporting your boyfriend while he performs on stage
WARNINGS: simp dom idk i love him
A/N: SOMEONE FINALLY REQUESTING FOR DOM!!!! he is my pinoy king BAHAHA hope u enjoy this one <3
the tour was coming to an end. almost three months of traveling with your boyfriend and his crew.
tonight was his last night to perform and the first night you won’t be watching his performance behind the corner and with the crowd.
“are you sure you wanna watch there? i don’t want you getting hurt,” he said, curls covering his eyes as he double-checked his laces.
you smile softly before putting on your lipstick. “i’ll be fine, i promise.” he stands up from the couch and wraps his arms around your waist, placing kisses on your neck.
you hum as he kisses you before he captures your newly painted lips for a kiss. you pull away quickly, a hand on his cheek, frowning when you see your lipstick smudged on and over his lips.
“dom, why’d you do that!” you act like you were upset but a smile was tugging at your lips as you wiped the stain off his face.
he proceeds to reach for your lips but you avoid it, making him laugh as you try your best to keep him away from your lips.
“baby, just—just let me have at least a part of you for everyone to see when i’m on stage.” he said, in between laughs. suddenly, he wraps an arm around your waist and holds you close to him.
he was peppering kisses all over your neck and jaw while he tickled you. “okay, okay! fine, i will please stop!” you managed to say in between giggles then he placed one last peck on your lips.
his hands were still on your waist and yours were now wrapped around his neck. you give in and kiss him longer than he did earlier.
when you felt his tongue in your mouth you pulled away, making him groan. you pulled him closer than you two already were and kissed his jaw down to his neck, purposely leaving a kiss mark on his neck that would be visible while he performed. you bite the skin gently before pulling away from him.
“there you go.” your arms are now on his shoulders and face him in front of the mirror before reapplying your lipstick.
dominic wiped off the stained lipstick on his face but kept the one you had left on his neck, treating it like an accessory.
during the concert, you had the best time of your life. some fans recognized you and took photos with you, you were able to see how your boyfriend’s music helped people and were able to connect with them through it.
it warmed your heart.
especially at this moment with the crowd singing along with him.
when the song ended, he was looking around the venue, his curls getting into his view.
despite the number of people there, his eyes still found its way to you. his energy immediately changed when he saw you, even smiling when you blew him a kiss from where you were standing.
he runs a hand through his hair, getting the curls away then walks back to the microphone.
“alright so for this next one, i made this song with my friend kevin which my girlfriend, y/n loves so much. i dedicate this to her. i love you, thank you for making everything feel so secure and for everything you've done in the past years." dominic says, smiling widely at you before he starts playing the chords on his guitar.
the fans screamed after he spoke and started playing the song.
you felt like the only person in the venue, locking eyes with dominic despite him being far from where you were sat yet he continued singing the song to you.
once the song ended, he mentioned you once again. "that was peach, thank you everyone—i love my girlfriend."
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Winter's King 18
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: It's Friday.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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Another day brings you just short of the mountain peak. The pace of the train is ragged as they come to a halt and murmurs crawl up and down the lines. You slump against the frigid wind, nestling your chin into the fur of your cloak as you keep your eyes on Daisy’s neck. You yawn as Bryce reaches over to fix the reins as they almost slip from your grasp. 
“You well, mouse?” He growls. 
You nod. You haven’t spoken much in the last days, not since your first night on the mountain pass. You haven’t known what to say. You know he must have seen the king and yourself, how close you were, and you feel his judgment. You just don’t know how to say it isn’t your want. It would be improper to blame the king. 
“We’re almost there. Castle’s just ahead.” He looks up at the dark shapes soaring through the skies. He pointed out the vultures a while back, inferring there must be carrion near to bring them out. “You’ll have a warm place to lay your head.” 
You hum and offer nothing else. As you think of staying still, your stomach storms as violently as the skies. At least when you have a destination, when you are moving, you can make yourself elusive. Once you’re still, you don’t quite know what you’ll do. 
“Daisy will be relieved to rest, the old beast,” he chuckles, “she’s had quite the campaign.” 
You pet the horse’s mane, your hands mittened in strips of wool the grey soldier wrapped around them. 
“I know what the matter is but if you’re not gonna say it, I won’t neither,” he grumbles. 
You dip your head, hiding under the hood. You come to a halt behind the rest of the party as it stalls completely. You lean and peer over the edge of the horse. 
“Aye, you just wait,” he swings off his horse and lands easily on his feet. The snow dusts up around his tall boots. He comes to help you off the horse, your legs as snugly bound in wool. “We’ll find ya some proper clothes for the road at the castle. You’ll need all your toes.” 
You sigh and cross your arms. You look ahead then behind you. You cough and turn to touch Daisy’s soft neck. 
“I didn’t...” you begin. “I wouldn’t betray the queen. Or the king.” 
He huffs and moves closer, blocking the wind as Daisy nuzzles his shoulder, “I know ya wouldn’t, mouse. Is that why yer so meek? You think I judge you?” 
“What happened--” you voice piques and you nearly choke on it, “sir,” you throw your hands up, “I swear, I didn’t ask for it. The king...” 
“Kings do as they will. It is in their nature, it is their right,” he shrugs, “I am not a naive lad no more. You mightn’t have noticed how my beard matches the sheen of my sword, but I’ve seen many things. The old king... he had a few loves. None of them his wife.” 
“Love? Sir. It was a mistake, surely.” 
He is quiet as he shifts his soles. He turns one way then the other, “do you really believe that?” 
Your heart swells so big your ribs hurt. You cross your arms, hooking your hands over your shoulders. You chew your lip and look up at the tall grey man. 
“I don’t know what to believe. I thought I came to serve the queen. I thought... I don’t know, sir. I don’t. I wouldn’t ever hurt anyone. I wouldn’t want to.” 
“I know it,” he affirms, “you are the gentlest soul I’ve met. Well, since my own wife. Certainly, the king is taken with a summer soul like yours. How could he not be?” 
“Taken?” You utter in horror. “I am a maid. That’s all I am. It’s all I ever needed to be.” You sniffle and bring your hands to the edges of your hood, pushing it back to see him clearer, “sir, it keeps me safe.” 
“It did. It kept you safe when it could but that shield has broken.” 
“And what about you?” You murmur. 
He averts his gaze guiltily, “what the king does behind his own walls, I cannot stop. That night, he was unsafe. He threw caution away. For your sake, I deterred him. Reminded him of his duty.” He shakes his head and frowns at his boots, “you came to serve the king, you said, and that is what he intends.” 
You whimper. How can it be? He is wed. He has beautiful wife. And a throne. And an heir on the way. You’re just the maid. Just a maid. Not... that. 
“So, you would let him?” You challenge, a surge welling up your throat, a heat unlike anything you’ve felt before. 
“I serve the king too,” he mutters. “Though I do care for you, little mouse, how could I not? But I was commanded to see to you. To keep you unbothered. Unsullied.” 
Your legs wobble beneath you and you nearly fold over. You can’t stop the rush of emotion that overcomes you, the fire that burns in your veins and makes your vision bleary. You throw out your arms and shove Bryce. Once, twice, three times. He doesn’t budge, taking each in turn. 
“How dare you, sir! How dare you!” You hit his chest with your fists and collapse into him. “I never wanted it. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t.” 
“I know, sweet mouse, I know,” he curls an arm around you and sways, petting your hood, “you’ve every right to despise me. I will take whatever you have for me.” 
You heave and tamp down a throttling sob, “why, sir, why?” 
“It is... my duty.” 
You hear the strain in his voice, you feel the tremor that rolls through him, and how he clings tightly as if he fears you’ll push him away. You can’t. Even if he's hurt you, he is all you have. 
“I won’t beg forgiveness, I don’t deserve that,” he whispers, “but I’ll always be here for you, mouse, so long as you need.” 
You stay again him, silent and weak. You’re angry. You’ve never felt this sort of way. You’ve never felt as if you could tear your flesh from the bone just to let the tension out. You hate it. You’ve never hated anything but that feeling, you loathe it. It hurts worse than anything you’ve ever known. 
“I’m so sorry, mouse,” he continues to rock you, “so very sorry...” 
⚔️
You cannot blame your daze for nearly missing the castle right before you. The dark exterior blends into the rock face, set into the side of the mountain so that an untrained eye might not pick it out. The part splits into several streams, those for the stables, some soldiers to keep watch over the pass, and many more waiting to enter the great castle of Vulture’s Peak. 
As if to proclaim their name right, at least a dozen of the long-necked scavengers perch upon the towers. Bryce keeps you close as you keep astride. You peer toward the front of the crowd. The king’s white hair defines him among the bodies. He speaks with several black-garbed soldiers as Jazlene is helped down from the cart. Neither husband or wife acknowledge each other. 
You sit back and hang your head. Bryce breathes in through his nose and clucks, “right. Let’s get you to the queen.” 
You glance over, numb from more than the cold. He dismounts and brings you down to ground level. He fixes your cloak as it opens and lets in the stirring bluster. He finds a post to tie the horses to before he herds you towards the castle. 
You approach with your head down. The queen stands with a hand on her lower back though her bodice remains snug and flat to her unchanged stomach. The fur cloak drapes from her shoulders majestically as she stands with her head high. You stare at the hem of her skirt and await your orders. 
“Let us see to our host,” the king declares as he offers his arm to his queen, a stiff and despondent gesture.  
You keep your eyes down. You would rather wait without. You sense him pausing, looking around, and he turns to face the facade. He huffs. “Right, Sir Bryce, until I give the signal, you will keep all without.” 
“Your highness,” Bryce agrees and moves closer to you. 
King Geralt stalks through the snow with his wife in tow. Her words drift back behind her, “... so bleak. Is this how they receive a king and queen?” 
The king grunts but gives no answer as he pulls her onward, climbing the steps one by one as she slows him with her odd lean back. You turn to Bryce and tuck your chin down. Neither of you have said much since the pass. 
You wait, blowing into your hands and mulling back and forth. A restlessness stirs through the bodies around you, an uncertainty as you await the king’s confirmation. The lull carries on until the sun shifts into a new phase, or rather, the sky changes hue. 
The doors of the castle creak open and a slender woman descends the stairs. Her skin is smooth like polished brass and a similar hue, her hair is a shade of straw and her eyes are an eerie shade of jade. She wears a plain cloak on her shoulders and a square cap on the crown of her head. 
“Lord Vesemir welcomes the king’s company,” she speaks boldly above the din of curious murmurs. “Please come.” 
She beckons with her gloved hand and turns back to the castle. She walks forward without waiting. Bryce tuts, “typical.” He spins and waves, “you heard her, let’s go. Servants to the east, soldiers find your stations, lords and ladies, the west wing.” 
He spins and grabs your arm, ushering you ahead of the scrambling masses. You let him lead you on, though you might have preferred to stay in the gales.  
Inside, the walls are lit with mounted lanterns. The flames glow along the spacious hall and corridors haze amber to each side of you. Bryce keeps you close as he steps out of the way of the flood of bodies. He stops several other soldiers to direct them on how to accommodate the party. 
“Right,” he peers up the central staircase, with posts like spears, and he points you up it. 
“You know this place?” You keep your voice low as you come to the top. 
“Aye, been here now and again,” he says. “Vesemir isn’t the most hospitable. Not beyond a few, but the king does hold a special bond with the old bear.” 
“Oh,” you peer around at the plain tapestries, no patterns, just cut fabric to warm the walls. There is a single marked banner with symbols you do not recognise. 
“Do not fear. He is harmless. He puts on a mean snarl but he isn’t so mean as he pretends,” Bryce explains. 
You nod and skid to a halt in fright. A large bear stands by the wall, arms raised in attack, it’s great teeth bear in a growl. You squeak and knock into the soldier beside you. It’s white fur reminds you of the king’s tresses. 
“Oh, mouse, it’s long dead,” he pats your shoulder and laughs, “Vesemir claims to have killed the beast with his own hands. He doesn’t mention that no sound or wise man would be so far north as to meet a white bear such as this.” 
You gulp and gape at the large beast. 
“Stuffed. It’s hide preserved,” he points as he gets closer to it, unafraid, “when I first came, I had my sword drawn at the sight. It’s a cruel trick by the castle lord.” 
He touches the bear’s large claw and gestures you forward. You move forward and he takes your hand, putting it to the beast’s large paw. You feel the dried pads and shudder. He lets you go but you do not rescind your reach. You feel the fur of the creature, softer than you imagined. 
“Suppose we should get you where you need to be,” he exhales, taking out his sweet leaves to put some in his mouth. 
You pull back and face him. You wait for his guidance and he presses on. He pauses to ask a servant where the queen’s chamber lays. With his answer, you continue on. 
The two guards stand outside the doors. You recognise the one that is often there, with the coppery hair and sparse beards. The other is not familiar to you, though you’ve seen many faces on the road. Bryce nods to them and they let you through. 
“Don’t trouble her maid, she is in sensitive condition,” the orange-haired guard warns. 
“Eh,” Bryce growls, “mind yer business, she’ll mind hers.” 
“Don’t get your hackles up, old man,” the guard scoffs and you stop to look back. 
“In,” Bryce demands and points you through the door. 
You enter and the door closes out the voices, muffled by the barrier as their argument continues. The confrontation is most unexpected. You don’t recall either of the queen’s men ever speaking to you before. Most times, they barely took notice. You’re only happy Bryce was there to bark back at him. 
The queen is at the foot of her bed. She looks unhappy. You glance around the chamber, for a moment expecting the king to be lurking there with her. She is alone, holding her stomach as she breathes slowly. 
“Would you stop staring like a dolt and fetch a pail?” She garbles behind her hand. 
You grab the clean chamber pot from the corner and bring it to her. She seizes it and spits into it, though she hardly spits up more than saliva. She grumbles and shoves it back at you. 
“This place smells like cinder and dust,” she complains as you return the pot to its place. “And the snow is repugnant. To think, I am to be queen of ice. How dull. We should make our thrones in the summer lands.” 
Her gripes ease you. Those are expected, almost a comfort. 
“Hardly matters where I go, does it? The king never comes anyhow,” she whines and lays back across the mattress, “I carry his child and he doesn’t seem to care. Do you know what he said when I told him?” 
You don’t reply. She doesn’t want to hear more than her own voice. 
“He says, ‘see your duty done before you boast,’” she kicks her legs as they hang over the edge, “see it done? I have his seed in me and he is still distant. Will he see his child in my arms then command me see it to adulthood before my duty’s rewarded?” 
You stare at the wall. Her account of the king’s neglect sickens you, so much that you could spit up in the same pot as her. Is it you? Are you the reason he does not tend to her? Perhaps you do deserve her wrath more than you know. You wish in that moment that she would let it out upon you. You have earned any lashing she may give you. 
Though you may not have chosen your path, not as maid, not as traveler, not as the king’s desire, it does not matter. You will pay for the whims of your masters. As Merinda predicted, though not as she might have dreamt it, they have drawn you into great danger. 
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erwinsvow · 2 months
Note
i’m definitely projecting BUT i genuinely feel like shy!reader would have wavy hair and be so insecure about it (even tho it’s so pretty) so it’s always straightened but i just know if rafe saw it he’d fall even deeper in love with the girl!
oh 100%. lets project together angel why not. if you dont have wavy hair pls look away im sorry. but i do have wavy hair that i straighten all the time so ! you sent this to the right bitch
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your hair, though you've been told so many times was pretty either way, is usually straightened several times a week, if not daily. it's easy to fall into the trap of preferring it sleek and shiny than the waves that were pretty for the first day, frizzy the next, and somehow constantly clashing with the outfit you selected for the day.
you thought straight hair was easier, looked better, went with everything. even if it wasn't true, you had bought into it for long enough, your blowdryer and flat iron your two best friends.
the first time rafe met you, your hair had been straight. it was that way on your first date, as well as your second and third, as well as every sleepover at tannyhill or early morning drive to watch the sunrise at the beach. he'd never seen your hair any other way, not realizing there was, in fact, another way for it to be seen, until today.
you and rafe had spent the first hour of the morning rolling around in his bed at tannyhill, working up a sweat, which then was washed off in the shower together. rafe gets out first, listening to his phone ring repeatedly in the distance. you finish up, washing your hair and turning the water to the hottest setting now that rafe wasn't there to complain.
when you walk back to rafe's room, he's on the bed, still on the phone. you try to dry yourself off and get dressed without giving him too much of a show, settling for one of rafe's old frat shirts and using another shirt of his to start drying your hair. he looks at confused, but you don't say anything, knowing he's still on the phone. you need at least a minute to explain cotton t-shirts and scrunching to him.
rafe finally hangs up the call with barry while you rummage through your overnight bag, realizing your flat iron and blow dryer were left behind on your bathroom counter, a result of finishing up your hair for your date yesterday.
"is sarah home?" you ask, looking up at rafe.
"don't think so. and didn't i give you a towel? why's my shirt on your head right now?"
"i forgot my hair stuff at home."
"oh," he says, walking back to his dresser and returning with something in his hand. "here." he hands you a hairbrush.
"what am i supposed to do with this?"
"you said you needed hair stuff. uh, you're welcome."
"i have a brush, rafe. i meant my dryer and my iron. do you think sarah would be mad if i used hers? is that weird, though?"
he didn't think it was that serious, but you look more upset by the second.
"what'd you need that shit for? we're not going anywhere until lunch. it'll dry by then." you stand up, taking the hair out of his shirt and trying to salvage whatever waves remained.
"i wanted to wear it straight for the club, though. my outfit, it looks better with straight hair-"
"huh?"
"and i didn't even detangle or use that conditioner, it's all at home. ugh." you keep scrunching, going to the mirror and taking a look. rafe follows behind you, eyebrows knitted in confusion while he takes a piece of curly hair between his fingers. it's pretty, the way it falls around your face and certain pieces are curlier than others. you look pretty like this, though he's sure you look pretty any which way.
"how come i didn't know your hair's like this?"
"um, i like it flat. do i have to go to the club like this?"
"i like it. s'pretty. c'mon, leave it."
you turn to face your boyfriend. like everyone else, he's just saying it to be nice.
"will you take me home to grab my stuff? please?"
"if you really want it, kid, but i think you should leave it," rafe says, bringing his hand up to your hair, stroking the pieces by your face, twirling a wave around his finger. "c'mon, for me?"
you hesitate, looking up at your boyfriend.
"but i wanna look nice for the club."
"the fuck are you talkin' about? you always look nice."
"but it's not as nice. it's messy. i like it-" rafe interrupts you, bringing his hand to your jaw the way he always does, squeezing tight but not too tight.
"stop. it looks nice. stop overthinkin' it. got it?" you nod. "s'nice. you should wear it like this more often."
"sure. whatever you say."
"that's right."
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azriels-shadowsinger · 4 months
Note
Hi! Can I please request 1 and 16 for Cassian x reader 🥹
“He treats me well-" "Okay good for you." "-but he isn't you."
Cassian x Reader
wc: 1.3k
a/n: so i couldn’t decide how i wanted to combine those 2 different prompts so i’m just writing 2 separate cassian fics i’m sorry. working on the other one right now, but for now here’s this!
warnings: angst, slight suggestiveness at the end
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Cassian was sick of it. He was sick of watching you date these undeserving males, fall in love with them, and then get your heart broken. Every single time, you run to him to console you. And every single time, he wipes away your tears and assures you that somewhere out there, there is someone who will love you and treat you right. Little do you know, he’s silently praying to the Mother that one day he can be that person for you. Not so silently, he prays that the stupid prick that broke your heart will drown in the Sidra, which usually earns a laugh from you.
Currently, Cassian was trying to keep the irritated expression off of his face as you told him about your most recent date with some new guy.
“He even paid for dinner! How sweet of him, right Cass?” You ask excitedly.
Bare fucking minimum, Cassian thought.
“That’s great y/n.” The words come out a bit more annoyed than intended, making you frown.
“What’s your problem?” You ask.
“Nothing.” He mutters.
“Bullshit, Cass. Did I do something to piss you off?” You try to think back over the past few hours to remember what you did to upset him, but nothing comes to mind.
“I just don’t really care to hear about yet another male that you think is your one true love, who will inevitably break your heart in a week.” You stare at him, stunned.
“Well, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to talk about my love life to my best friend.” You argue stubbornly. He lets out a laugh.
“I wouldn’t call getting broken up with every other month a love life, sweetheart.” He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth, but it was too late.
“Fuck you, Cassian.” You storm off before he can even apologize.
———
Unsurprisingly, the new guy ended up being a jerk and stood you up the following evening. You had waited at the restaurant for over an hour, earning apologetic looks from the waitress.
Cassian tried to act casual while he sat on the couch at the House of Wind, waiting for you to return from your date. He picked up some random book that Azriel had left and began scanning the pages when you winnowed home. Cassian can’t help but let his eyes roam over you, admiring your stunning figure accentuated by your dress. As soon as his gaze reaches your face, he notices the tears threatening to spill and stands up immediately. He debates walking over to comfort you with a hug or letting you come to him, still unsure if you are mad at him.
“I don’t want to hear ‘I told you so.’ And I know you don’t want to hear about my dating life anymore, so I’m going to bed.” You rush from the room quickly, leaving Cassian alone once again.
Yeah, you’re definitely still mad. Cassian has to fight the urge to follow you. He knows how your brain spirals in these situations, blaming yourself and doubting your self-worth, all because of a stupid male. He wants so badly to go up to your room and console you. He wants to wipe your tears like always and say some idiotic joke to make you laugh. More than anything, he wants to reassure you that this isn’t your fault. But he can’t, so he just sighs and sits back on the couch, picking up the book again.
———
It had been a few weeks since you and Cassian had a proper conversation, both of you too stubborn break the silence first. There had been a few short exchanges, usually just during training or when others were around, but the tension was apparent to everyone.
Cassian had heard from Mor that Feyre set you up with one of her artist friends, Kallum. He can’t be mad at his High Lady for doing what she thinks is best for her friend, but gods he was pissed about it.
You had gone on several dates with him over the past few weeks. He overheard you telling Feyre about them, describing the romantic gesture that Kallum made recently.
Was this it? Would this be the male who finally stole his best friend from him for good? If this male is a friend of Feyre’s, he must be a good guy.
Cassian hurries past the sitting area, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, but somehow you catch his eye. He can’t help but notice the flicker of sadness in your stare.
———
After four weeks of stubborn silence, you approach Cassian at training.
“Hey.” He turns to you, surprised.
“Uh, hey y/n.” He notices that you’re picking at your nails, a nervous habit from when you were a kid.
“So, I’m bringing Kallum to dinner tomorrow evening. To meet everyone.” You say awkwardly.
Oh.
“I know you and I are still in a weird place, but can you please be nice? I want to make a good impression and see what everyone thinks of him.” You bit your bottom lip nervously.
“Why do you care what we all think of him?” He huffs.
“Because I care what my family and friends think of the person I’m dating.” You counter defensively.
“Do you really? Or do you need us to like him in order to convince yourself you like him too?” You scowl, but Cassian has that stupid cocky smirk on his face. He’s not wrong, which only pisses you off more. You had tried desperately to like Kallum. He’s a nice guy and he seems to like you a lot, but you just couldn’t find a spark between you two.
“He’s a good guy Cassian!” Your face turns red and you are too flustered to come up with a more clever response.
“If you say so.” Cassian rolls his eyes. You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself, not him.
“He is! He treats me well!” You argue.
“Okay, good for you.” He says sarcastically. You stay silent for a long moment. Cassian turns to leave, not wanting to argue any longer.
“He treats me well…but he isn’t you.” You say softly.
Cassian freezes. Surely, he misheard you. He turns back to face you and is faced with the vulnerable expression on your face.
“Seeing as you don’t seem to want to be my friend anymore, there’s no point in hiding it any longer.” He takes a long stride towards you and takes your face in his hands.
“You’re right. I don’t want to be friends anymore.” Cassian presses his lips to yours, kissing you deeply. You melt into his touch and tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. The kiss quickly turns heated, and you let out a soft moan. Cassian pulls away, and you give him a confused look.
“As much as I want to continue this, sweetheart, I plan to take you to dinner first. I want to show you how you deserve to be treated on a date.” He leans in close, brushing his lips over the shell of your ear. “And then maybe I can show you how you deserve to be treated in bed as well.” Your face turns bright red, and you nod. Cassian lets go of you, but you pull him in for another kiss, this one lasting a bit longer than the last.
“I should probably go break up with Kallum.” You giggle between kisses. Cassian growls at the mention of another male’s name and pulls you closer.
“That is the last breakup you are ever going to have. I’ve waited 500 years for this, I’m sure as hell not going to mess it up.”
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Feel free to keep requesting prompts :-)
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strniohoeee · 8 months
Text
Belong To The City
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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT THIS IS A 18+ STORY BEYOND THIS POINT
Pairings: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader ⚠️SMUT⚠️
Enemies-ish to lovers, friends-ish to lovers
Synopsis: Chris is such an arrogant asshole to Y/N, but when she snaps back he loses all control and pulls her to the side ⚠️THIS IS SMUT SO LEAVE ME ALONE⚠️
Warnings⚠️: This is straight up smut okay, so any young person PLZ PLZ go away and get off tumblr and go to bed please. Oh god what’s in here?? Manhandling, spit, mean Chris, crazy dirty talk. Mannnn idek this shit is intense, and I’m not even a Chris girl, but I put my whole pussy into this one
Song for the story: Belong To The City-PARTYNEXTDOOR
Right now I was currently standing in the corner of the living room of the triplets house as they had a party going around for completing the tour. It was mainly a celebration party for Chris, but Nick and Matt would never admit to that. However for me it was like my eternal hell. I absolutely hated parties especially ones full of all these LA “influencers” who were only here because they wanted to see who’s pants they could get into first. Same boring game over and over, so I stand in the corner at most parties with a drink in my hand observing everyone else, listening in on conversations and cringing at how embarrassing some of these people were. It brought me great joy, and I could ignore how badly I wanted to claw my way out this sweaty body infested house.
I went to take a sip from my orange solo cup, and noticed it was empty, so I made my way over to the kitchen. In there was Nick, Matt, Tril, Chris, Madi and a few other close friends of ours. Although I love the triplets, and they know how much I hate parties I always am on my best behavior for them!
“Yooo look who decided to join the party” Tril said bumping my shoulder. I just give a slight upturn of my mouth
“Haha so funny….” I replied back rolling my eyes
“Hey! Lighten up! Let loose, this is a celebratory party “ Tril answered back grabbing me by my shoulders
“You’re clearly very drunk, I’m having a great time watching all these people embarrass themselves trying to get into y’all’s pants” I replied back looking at all the drink options. My eyes light up once I see the strawberry Malibu
“Woahhh get into our pants?? Says who” Matt replies looking around curious
I pour a shot and gulp it down, and then another before I go to pour my third shot I look up and answer
“Nearly every single person in here” I replied down my third shot after pouring it
“You should slow down on the shots” when I bring my head down after downing my shot I lock eyes with Chris
“Ouu is the king of parties telling me to slow down on drinking??? Are you okay? Are you feeling sick?” I said laughing along with everybody else
“No I’m just saying you tend to get a little out of hand when you’ve had a little too much Malibu” Chris responded shrugging. To this Nick giggles and has a light bulb moment
“Oh my fucking god like that one time you drank Malibu at that one party and puked on that guys dick” Nick says giggling….he was completely sober, so why in the fuck was he saying such a thing. My eyes pop out of my head
“First of all not true, and second of all you guys always purchase Malibu knowing it’s my favorite and then get upset when I wanna have fun” I said back with an attitude
“Maybe control your liquor intake and you wouldn’t be choking on dicks” Chris retorted back laughing hard with Matt while they leaned on each other for support like it was the funniest shit ever
“I can promise you I’ve never choked on a single dick, and I also promise you I’ve never sucked dick while drunk before…that’s a rookie mistake fuck face” I say back throwing ice cubes at him from my cup
“That’s not how I interpreted it when you were gagging on my dick, but I mean hey” He said back with the most smug smirk I have ever seen. My blood was boiling, my skin was on fire, I was seeing white hot rage.
Back in high school Chris and I got really close one year. It was actually the summer going into senior year, and to say I had a crush on him was an understatement. I really liked the kid, but I knew he’d never see me that way. But for some reason we had a really romantic summer, and at the end of it we decided to be each other's first everything. That being said I had never seen a dick nor touched or sucked one, and he was pretty large, so I did in fact gag a few times. Needless to say after that summer we never spoke about it again, and we actually acted like we never liked one another after that, so there was always this weird tension here and there
“You’re such a fucking dick” Was all I could get out, I was angry but I was hurt mostly. It was something we swore we’d keep to ourselves, and here he goes airing it out to his brothers and our friends, and making me feel embarrassed.
“Chris not fucking cool” Madi said giving him a disgusted look.
“Oh come on it was a harmless joke I swear” He said acting shocked that nobody liked what he said
“You fucking idiot you always take shit too far” Nick said smacking him in the back of his head. I looked over to Chris with no emotions
“No, honestly it’s fine he can’t eat pussy for shit, and when I did let him go down on me he was crying from all the emotions, talking about some “aww you’re wet for me” pfft you wish….hes a fucking joke in bed” I responded giving him a bitchy smile. Everyone’s jaw dropped and Chris just clenched his jaw and scoffed. He pushed himself off the edge of the sink and walked over to me. He grabbed me by my upper arm and yanked me hard towards the direction of his room downstairs. As he was walking me with him harshly like a scolded child all I could hear was laughing and and them going “OUUUU” like I was some school delinquent getting told to step out of class.
Chris firmly walks me down the steps into his room slamming the door shut behind us. All that could be heard now was PARTYNEXTDOOR blasting from upstairs. When he’s a little more into his room he fully throws me down to the floor, and I fall smacking against the wooden floors.
“Ouch you fucking prick, I’m not a fucking ragdoll” I said as I get myself up and try to shake off the embarrassment.
“Yeah? Well you ain’t shit to me after that little stunt you pulled up there” he said towering over me by a few inches.
“Oh me? I’m the bad guy?? Yeah let’s not play victim” I said back to him crossing my arms over my shoulder
“Oh no let’s not! But let's tell the truth shall we” Chris stated back flashing his white smile. I go to cut him off, but he immediately speaks loudly over me.
“Truth is you did choke on my dick because it’s too big and you can’t take it, truth is you were the one crying when I was going down on you, you were fucking trembling and shaking moaning like a little bitch…..fucking thighs shaking like a complete untouched virgin” He said laughing at me now with his arms crossed over his chest
“We can fake orgasms you know” I told him sizing him up
“When your cum was dripping down my chin? Yeah that wasn’t fake mama, and the way you just laid there limp like a fucking used slut” He responded laughing in my face. God why were his words making me hot and bothered? WHEN DID CHRIS BECOME SO FUCKING HOT?
“Fuck you” was all I could manage because I was genuinely getting turned on by the way he was treating me and the memories of him abusing my pussy.
“Yeah you wish” Chris said rolling his eyes
“I’m not 17 anymore I’ve got experience now, I bet you couldn’t make me cum” I told him…well more like challenging him.
“Please I’d have you used and abused by the end of this party babe” he said stepping closer. Fuck this man really got it….
“Is that a bet?” I asked, raising my brow with my arms crossed over my chest. He roughly grabbed my hands smacking them out the way and grabbed me harshly by neck pulling me in for a kiss. Our lips smashed together just tongue and teeth fighting for dominance, it was hot and it was messy.
He turned us and had us back peddling to his bed. Once my shoes hit the edge he pushed me back, as I laid back he pulled his shirt off along with his hat. I decided to take my shirt off as well
“Fuck Chris you’re so hot when you’re not speaking” I said to him as he came lower to continue kissing me
“Could say the same about you too” He said as nudged my head up and started to leave wet kisses all down my neck to my breast. He stopped and lifted back to look at me
“I can’t wait to have you moaning and weeping on my cock” He said with his droopy eyes lazily looking over me. I just grabbed him by his chain and pulled him forward to continue kissing him. He had me lift up so he could remove my bra. Once my bra was off he separated from my mouth to look down at my chest. His eyes shimmered. I will say I had a last minute puberty incident at 17 I was a size C, but now at 21 I’m a size DD.
“Since when did you get boobs” He asked, laughing while kneading them and moaning a little bit. I let out a sigh/whimper at the feeling of his large hands caressing my breasts.
“Don’t be a fucking weirdo” I said back to him rolling my eyes. He just chuckled and came down to take one of my hard nipples into his mouth while kneading the other one. God I was getting so wet just by this interaction alone, and I know he’d make fun of me for it once he got to removing my bottoms.
He continued to massage them as I let out little moans and gasps of breath. I could feel my underwear being completely soaked right now. My pussy was throbbing, and it was aching a painful ache. I so badly needed him to touch me. He was doing this so he can hold it over my head in the future about how wet I was for him. He hovers over my boobs and spits on one of my nipples. A shocked gasp came from my mouth followed by a moan. He does the exact to the opposite breast and uses his flat palms to massage the spit in. My eyebrows were knotted together and my mouth was hung open. He was doing this all so I could beg him to move on from my breast, but I was enjoying this, so that wasn’t happening.
“Next time I’m fucking your tits, and coming all over them, and then leaving you here like a dirty whore covered in my cum” He said to me biting his lip
“Fuck Chris don’t say shit like that” I responded trying to rub my thighs together for some friction. He looked at this and smirked.
“Now let’s get down to what I’m really here to do” after saying that he took my bottoms off leaving me in my underwear. Of course today I have on light orange underwear making my arousal very noticeable.
“Aww she made a mess for me” he said ghosting his thumb over my pussy, my body shudders from the touch
“Chris I don’t fucking care of course I’m wet you were stimulating my breast, now let’s go if you do get me to cum I’m trying to cum tonight not tomorrow” I responded clearly annoyed. He just laughs and nods his head slightly.
He slowly starts to remove my panties, and as he takes them off there’s a very visible string of my arousal connected from my pussy to my underwear. He just looks up at me and smirks, and I throw my head back and moan as the cool air in his room is causing some release to my untouched core.
Chris pulls my legs apart propping them up on the bed as he situates himself in between my legs. Once he’s comfortable he grabs both legs on either arm and spreads my thighs back. I throw my head back at how hot he looks right now.
“You’ve made such a mess, let’s make it more messy” he said and as he finished that sentence he gathered all the spit in his mouth and let it dribble down onto my wet pussy. I let out the most quiet “fuck” of my life as I watch this unravel infront of me.
As soon as he's done with that he immediately goes down and licks from my hole up to my clit. I was propped up on my elbows but my top half goes limp and I fall back moaning
“Holy shit Chris” was all I could say. He’s sucking my clit and licking it lightly grazing his teeth on my clit hit spit and my slick are mixing together creating the most ungodly sound ever. It is only then that he moans against my clit and my thighs shut around his head
“Fuck Chris oh my god….if you keep doing that I’m going to cum on your face” I said said gripping the sheets. He goes down to lick my hole and his pointy nose is banging against my clit in the most delicious way. Allowing me to moan out for him once again slamming my thighs shut around his head.
He detached from my pussy to look at me, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen….his fucked out eyes, his nose,lips and chin covered in my arousal and his spit and his cheeks are all red and rosy. He immediately goes back down to my pussy this time adding his middle finger while sucking my clit. As he’s sucking my clit he’s motioning his middle finger in a come here motion and then moans against my clit. I let out the loudest scream as I could, shaking and cumming all over his mouth and finger. Seeing flashes of white and my body coming off the bed. I had no warning. I was just hit with an intense orgasm. I was breathing heavy as i came down from my high 100% fucked out.
“What’d I say trembling and thighs shaking like a used slut” Chris said as he was removing his pants and I was just there basking in the feeling of the best orgasm I’ve ever had. I look up and see Chris stroking his hard dick while watching me pull myself together
“Chris that was the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had” I stated watching his hand move up and down against his rock hard dick. I was already getting aroused again. He comes closer and takes his right hand swiping it against my pussy collecting my cum and his spit as I shudder from the sensitivity.
He uses that to stroke his dick “Should I fuck you, or should I use your cum as my lube to get off and paint your skin like the dirty slut you are?” he asks, still stroking his cock. All I could do was moan and beg him to fuck me.
Once again he spits on my pussy and on his dick using it as extra lube. He’s looking down as he places the tip at my entrance. We both lock eyes as his dick enters me, both of our mouths dropping and our eyebrows kneading together. Both of us whispering fuck. He slowly starts to go in and out.
“Fuck Chris you gotta move you feel so good I wanna feel you pounding me” I told him he bites his lip and nods starting to pick up the pace
30 seconds later he’s rapidly thrusting into me like there’s no tomorrow rubbing my nipples and then going back to my clit. I’m a moaning bitch right now, and I’m about to cum on his cock I can feel it, so I started clenching his dick.
“Fuck Y/N keep doing that I’m going to fucking cum all over you” He said into my ear with his arms on either side of my head as his chain dangles in my face and his sweat starts to fall on me.
“Chris keep touching my clit I’m going to cum so hard again” my breathing was becoming more rapid and my moans were becoming silent as my mouth would just stay open and my eyes shut. He backed up a little bit so he could look down at me while rubbing my clit.
“Fuck open your eyes I wanna hold eye contact while we cum” he said, and I did what I was told I opened my eyes just as I was about to cum, with one more thrust I came so hard on his dick clenching down and moaning while looking into his eyes. As soon as I came down from my high he pulled out and kept the eye contact while pumping his cock, and soon enough he came all over my lower stomach with his mouth wide open and bitchy whimpering moans spilling out of his mouth.
He collapsed down next to me while we both sat there in silence not moving for 5 minutes. Then Chris got up and got a warm wet rag to wipe me down with. He came back with it and was staring at my lifeless body there still shuddering.
As he’s wiping my stomach down he states “exactly what I said a fucked out used slut” he looks at me chuckling
I turn my head to him “Chris you just let out the most whiniest moan as you came on me” I said as we both laughed.
“You know I didn’t mean for my joke to hurt your feelings I truly thought you were over the feelings for me. I’m not over my feelings for you, but I thought saying that would help me get over it” he said after wiping me down
“Chris I was never over you. I lost my virginity to you, that’s a soul tie and you’ll forever have a special place in my heart” I told him looking at him. He helped me sit up so we can sit face to face
“Good because I have never wanted someone so badly in my life as much as I want you” Chris responded back moving my hair behind my ear. I just smiled at that and looked into his eyes
“Let me take you on a date, and try again. None of that high school shit I want this for real” He said looking into my eyes for an answer
“I’d love that” I said going in to kiss him. As I pulled back we hear a knock at the door
“Are yall done fucking the parties over and we need help cleaning” Nick said from the other side. Chris and I both looked at each other wide eyed laughing because we totally forgot there was a whole house party going on upstairs.
“Uh yeah we’ll be right out” we both said.
The end 😀
Okay I warned yall this is just a little bit of the type of shit I write, and I used to write this at 14 LMFAOOOO. But anyways leave some NICE comments. All young people under 18, that are rude are gonna be blocked cause I can’t do this shit. My mouth is crazy I’m from New York😁🤞🏽
I’m writing a sweet Matt smut next will either be up later tonight or tomorrow 😘🧎🏽‍♀️
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hughesyodaddy43 · 2 months
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you're gonna be okay ⎸ J.H
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Jack Hughes x Reader synopsis : when Jack loses a big game, he comes over to seek support from his favourite person. word count: 1.5k warnings: sad jack, fluff, angst? Authors note: I have more fanfics coming soon, i have a range of them pre -planned with covers and titles and I read everyones request so if i don't get to yours then it's because i already have a story planned for that player or request. I hope you like this one :)
I slumped down on my bed, easily immersing myself in the world of fiction, every now and then munching on the bowl of popcorn I had sitting beside me. Jack was playing for team USA tonight so I was waiting patiently for him to message me that the game ended so we could call or hang out. Something about these big games excited me, not for the sport but for the post game interviews. 
It was nice to watch the interviews and read through the comments as if you couldn't just ask Jack the same questions yourself and actually get real and honest answers. 
You didn't know the final score yet so you went on youtube to see if a post game interview was up and you were met with the prettiest blue puppy dog eyes you've ever seen, but you knew jack and this was definitely not gonna be a happy interview. You click on the video and are met with a saddened Jack on the verge of tears, your heart aches for him as you listen to his answers; you were mad that they would interview a 17year old on the verge of tears and still ask the most idiotic questions. 
I only made it about 5 minutes into the video before I  got a message on my phone.
Jack 💘:  I’m outside. 
                                                 Okay, coming down now.         
I  walk down towards the front door and see a dishevelled jack peering back at me.
“Hi. Can I come in?” The young hockey player asks while twirling with his fingers. 
“Of course” I answer, slightly smiling at him as I move my body so he can slip past me. 
He walks through my doorway and up towards my room, I trail behind him closely up until he reaches my bed and slumps down on it , exhaustion evident on his face as he looks up at me standing in the doorway. “Are you okay?” I asked quietly, not wanting to make him feel worse, though judging by the way his lip quivered and his head shook, I'm not sure that was the right decision. 
“We lost” he says just above a whisper 
“Hm?” I walked closer to him and sat beside him, reaching over to hold his hand that he was fiddling with in his lap. “We lost the game, we lost everything” he states, audible this time.
“Oh. well it’s okay-” "NO ITS NOT OKAY” Jack yells, standing up and turning to face me, running his hands through his freshly washed hair. “It's not okay, I let my team down, I let my parents down, I've let everyone down and I'm so tired” he rants on, quieting down towards the end. 
“Hey, hey . It is okay, alright? Just because you've lost this game, doesn't mean you've lost everything"
"yes it does, you have no idea what it's like to lose something like this. You don't have to worry about making sure you end up drafted. You'll never know.” ' Jack replies quickly, raising his voice once  again 
“you havent lost everything,i know it feels like it and i know you’re upset. But please don’t start yelling at me when I'm just trying to help you.'' He looks at me after I say this, tears filling up his eyes.
 “You’re right, im sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you, I'm just so angry at myself, I could've played better , we could've won but I let everyone down." I stand up and walk in front of him 
“Hockey is a team sport, Jack. One loss isn't your fault, besides all hockey players lose big games, even the best of the best.” Jack doesn't reply, instead he just nods his head and wipes a falling tear from his cheek.
“You’re an amazing player Jack, anyone can see that. You played well, and so did everyone else. Losses happen, it wouldn't be competitive if nobody lost.” He nods again, looking down at the ground. 
I sigh before continuing “why don't we just lay down and watch a movie?hm?” i ask 
The boy sniffles before nodding, replying with a light yeah as he makes his way back over to my bed. He sits against the headboard and watches me as I sit down and open my laptop. Stupidly i forgot to close the youtube tab i had opened from his interview and there it was, my boys said face displayed on my computer. I look over at Jack, he stares at the screen then back at me. 
“Sorry, i usually watch your post game interviews” i apologise.``its okay, i think its cute you watch my interviews” he smiles lightly at me, his beautiful smile that i didnt think i'd see tonight was there on display “what can i say? You're just too hard to resist” I joke, gaining a light chuckle from the boy  before fixing my eyes back to the screen so we can pick something to watch.
X
X
“Do you really think everything will be okay?” Jack asks in a mumble. “Mhm, you're gonna be okay” Jack leans up to face me “i'm gonna be okay” he repeats “you’re gonna be okay” i reply before he leans in and presses his soft lips on mine, we pull away and jack returns to his previous position, snuggling his face into my neck. “Goodnight, Jack. Love you” i say softly “mm night, love you too y/nn” jack replies before swiftly drifting off to a much needed sleep.
I wrap my arms around Jack in a warm embrace, sinking down into the pillows and pulling the blanket up higher. Light snores are audible from the boy as he leans into my touch, even when he's sleeping, he still manages to tighten his arms around me, lightly rubbing circles on my skin from where my shirt rolled up. I play with his hair while  allowing my eyes to grow heavy and fall into a peaceful slumber. Comfortable with the outcome of this otherwise devastating night
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winterrrnight · 3 months
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HI BAE!!!!!!! CONGRATS ON 600!!! 🙌🏼💓💓
go on without me - 16 + 21 with rafe🤭🤭🤭🤭
ahh thank you so much sweet abi!! I'm so sorry it took me so long, I just wasn't feeling satisfied with what I was writing :( I hope you like reading this! but please feel free to not read this if you aren't comfortable w the warnings given :)
protective
PAIRING: toxic!dark!rafe cameron x gn! musician!reader
SUMMARY: rafe doesn’t like another man touching you, not even as much as talking to you or looking at you.
WARNINGS: dark content! minimal swearing, established relationship, slight use of nicknames like babe, jealousy, over protective & possessive rafe, canon!rafe, toxic!rafe, threats to kill, allusions to anxiety and being scared, and kinda shitty writing (??) (please please let me know if something should be added!!!!)
EDITH SPEAKS: this is very, very new for me. this is my third attempt at this fic, the first two just didn’t turn out how I wanted, and the best approach just felt like dark!rafe. this is me basically exploring my writing and trying out new things and testing myself, so if it’s not as good as the rest of stuff you may have read, I’m really sorry, I’m a beginner 😭😭
please please heed the warnings, and it may not be as dark as some other stuff on here, it felt pretty dark while writing, and if at any moment you feel this isn’t for you please feel free to click off.
moreover, if I am being honest here, you might have read a lot of rafe fics based on this idea/prompt. so please don't think I copied someone off for this, this is completely my own creation.
and if you liked this, please please share your feedback with me, and reblog it to support my content <3
PROMPTS REQUESTED: “Actually, we’re leaving. We have something to get to.” “No we don’t – oh, okay fine I’ll call you guys later.” & “You can’t just lose your temper like this each time you get a little upset!”
600 followers celebration (now closed!) || navigation
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Everyone around you cheers out loud, glasses of champagne raised in the air as huge grins form on everyone’s faces. Your new single – after a break of over three years came out today, and you have already received an overwhelming amount of support. You’re in your studio, celebrating with your team and your amazing boyfriend.
“Congratulations babe,” Rafe smiles as he hugs you tight, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You grin at him, hugging him back even tighter as you mumble a ‘thank you’.
You all celebrate for some more time, drinking fancy champagne, eating food, and taking pictures to savor the moment.
You, Rafe, and Jim, your producer, are just talking at the side when you hear your name being called. You turn to see it’s Saylor, who is one of the interns at the record label you are signed with. Your single was the first project he worked on.
“Yeah?” You ask, smiling as you approach him.
“Congratulations on the release,” he smiles, and gives you a small hug. You gladly hug him back, a grin on your face.
“Thank you Saylor,” you smile. “You were absolutely great for your first project,” you say. “I was actually asking Jim if you’d like to continue working for the upcoming singles too,”
Saylor’s lips are pulled in a huge grin as his eyes light up. “You’re serious right now?”
You chuckle as you nod your head. “Yes, of course! I would love for you to be able to gain as much experience as you can,”
Saylor absolutely can’t contain his excitement as he pulls you in for another hug. You are caught off guard but gladly hug back, chuckling a little as you do so.
“Thank you so much,” he smiles. “Seriously, it means a lot to me,” he says, a certain spark in his eyes.
“Of course, a talent like yours shouldn’t go to waste,” you say.
His smile doesn’t falter as he speaks again. “Can I get a picture with you, if that’s not an issue?”
“Oh of course not!” You say, turning to look at Rafe. “Rafe?” You call out.
He breaks from the conversation he was having with Jim and walks up to you. “Yeah babe?” Saylor passes him his phone and asks him to take a picture of you two.
Saylor stands next to you as his arm wraps around your waist, maybe a little too tighter than it should be but you don’t really say anything. However, it doesn’t go unnoticed by Rafe, and he takes a sharp inhale when he sees Saylor’s side pressing more against you, as your arm rests around his shoulder.
Rafe tends to be… possessive, and you’ve always known that. Even when you both weren’t together, he wasn’t the biggest fan of how others would usually hit on you at parties, and would feel enraged when they wouldn’t let you go after you would politely ask to leave you alone.
But that possessiveness only increased when you both got together, when you officially became his girl. There’s nothing you can do about it, because that’s how Rafe is.
You can see the expression on Rafe’s face; the subtle ticking of his jaw, the acute twitching of his eye – you’ve known him long enough to identify his facial expressions just the second they appear. You are quick to remove your arm from Saylor’s shoulder, your arm now resting on your side, but Saylor doesn’t seem to catch on that; instead his grip on your waist tightens a bit, because he most probably wants you to wrap your arm around his shoulders again.
Nevertheless, Rafe takes the picture, and hands Saylor’s phone back. Saylor takes a few seconds before he lets go of you, which only happened because you gently removed yourself from his grip. You quickly appear at Rafe’s side and intertwine your hands, squeezing his hand tightly.
“Thank you for the picture,” Saylor smiles as he looks at the phone screen. All you say is ‘welcome’ with a small smile, and Rafe pulls you to a different part of the studio.
As the small party carries on, Saylor makes subtle moves – or moves which he thinks are subtle, but aren’t missed by Rafe at all. It’s Rafe’s last straw when Saylor gently grips your waist to move past you, saying a ‘sorry’ as he walks by. At that very moment, you decide it’s best if you talk to Saylor about it yourself, tell him that you know what he’s doing, and you clearly have a boyfriend. But before you can do that, Rafe’s arm wraps quickly around your waist, and his grip is tight.
Jim says something about going to a nice nearby restaurant for dinner, but Rafe cuts him off. “Actually, we’re leaving. We have something to get to.” He says firmly. You look at him with a slightly confused expression, thinking if you both do have any other appointments today or not, but your mind is blank.
“No we don’t –,” you say, but Rafe snaps his head at you, his jaw muscles tense, and your eyes slightly widen at the sight as you catch up in the fraction of a second. “Oh, okay fine I’ll call you guys later.”
Rafe leads you out of the studio, and you barely save your half full glass of champagne from falling off the table you’re trying to keep it at as he ushers you out. He opens the door of his truck for you and as you sit down, he slams it a little too harshly than usual. He walks around the truck and sits down next to you, his grip tight on the steering wheel as he starts to drive.
You take a deep breath as you lean back in the chair. This is not the first time this is happening, and you know it’s certainly not the last. You aren’t scared because you already know how this entire situation plays out. He will raise his voice at you, say stuff like how you’re his and only his, how he absolutely hates other guys looking at you a certain way because he just can’t bear the sight, and how he gives you the best treatment you can get.
You’re just silently listening to the soft music from the radio as you look out the window. You steal a glance at Rafe and see his jaw is still tightened, his grip tight on the wheel.
“Relax your jaw Rafe,” you say plainly, turning to look back out the window. You hear him take a sharp breath.
“I did not like how he was looking at you and holding you,” he utters.
You just roll your eyes at him, as if you knew that’s exactly what he was going to say. “It was just a picture Rafe, you don’t have to be so protective about that,” you say.
Rafe snaps his head towards you, but quickly turns back to look at the road. “Just a picture?” He echoes. “So you’re telling me you loved the way he was holding your waist hm?”
“Oh god when did I say that!” You retort. “And besides, did you not see? I literally removed my hand off his shoulders the instant you saw it, and moved away from him the moment you took the picture. There’s no need for you to get so worked up!”
You can see Rafe’s chest heaving as he takes rapid breaths, his jaw ticking as you can literally see a thunderstorm brewing up in him.
“You can’t just lose your temper like this each time you get a little upset!” You say exasperatedly. “You shouldn’t have been upset in the first place because there’s literally nothing to be upset about!”
Just the second those words leave your mouth, he bellows your name causing you to shut up right that moment. “Shut up!” He yells, smacking his palm against the steering wheel once. You feel the truck speed up, his foot pressing harder against the accelerator. You glance at the speedometer and see the needle pointing to larger numbers more and more with each passing second.
“Rafe-” you mumble out but you are cut off the very next instant.
“You just refuse to see it huh?” He hissed. “You refuse to see how I am the best for you. How I can, how I do treat you better than anyone else,” he goes on, and he uses his free hand to gesture around in the air.
“Get this in your head okay?” He speaks, his voice now eerily low as he gestures to his head, tapping his fingertips at his temple. “I never, ever want you as much as looking at someone else, you got that?”
You can feel the truck speeding up more. Your hands are clutching the sides of your seat, as your nails dig into the leather. Your lips are parted as you let out shaky breaths, your eyes wide and shiny with the layer of tears that have formed over them.
You thought you had seen the worst. Which was him arguing with you and telling you he’s the best for you. But right now, when his foot only seems to be pressing more and more against the gas pedal, your back pushed back against the seat due to the fast speed of the truck, you realize there’s a hidden side to Rafe you’ve never seen before.
“Rafe I-”
“Say it!” He yells, cutting you off swiftly. “Say it, that you won’t even look at anyone else!”
“Rafe please-” you mumble out, squeezing your eyes shut as hot tears flow down your face, leaving a sticky trail as they go down.
“Say it before I crash this truck in a fucking tree!”
His breathing is heavy, his eyes are wide, and you can’t recognise him anymore. His eyes are an icy blue instead of the usual dark blue you get lost in so easily, and that’s the moment you realize Rafe will never ever let you exercise any control over him. Ever.
“I-” you hiccup, “I won’t look at anyone else, okay?” You gasp, gulping down the lump in your throat as the tears keep on streaming down.
When you don’t feel Rafe slow down the truck, the seatbelt starting to dig into your neck harshly and your grip on the seat gets harder, your breathing gets more erratic as you try to gather more air to speak up again.
“Rafe, baby, please please slow down I…” you whisper, looking at him desperately.
You expect him to lash out, but he doesn’t, and the truck starts to slow down, coming at a normal pace. You move a shaky hand to your face, running your fingers across your skin to wipe off your tears, but your breath keeps on coming out in short gasps, and you feel yourself tremble a little; your heart loud in your chest.
The truck slows down more and more, and you see Rafe has parked it at the side of the road. The truck comes to a full stop, and you turn to look at Rafe through your still slightly blurry vision, your eyes now red, and panic being the only feeling clouding your mind.
Rafe rests his forehead against the steering wheel, taking in a deep breath. His grip on the wheel loosens a bit, the knuckles not so white anymore as their color flushes back. He lifts his head from the wheel and turns to look back at you, his eyes now not so icy, but still not the comforting warm blue you’ve always loved and adored.
A smile tugs on his lips, and it’s not the kind which always warms you up the moment you look at it, but it’s… sinister. It’s a smile you’ve never seen before. It’s the kind of smile that shows that he is enjoying seeing you this way. Seeing you so weak under his control.
He moves his hands to your face, brushing any loose strands off your slightly sticky face and gently running his fingers across your cheeks.
“Now baby,” he says softly, but the softness doesn’t comfort you – no. It scares you even more. “You made that a little too hard didn’t you, hm? Next time when I ask you to do something, just do it, okay? Don’t have time to wait, or- or to see how you react m’kay? Just… agree to what I say. It’s not as hard as you may think,”
He leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead, but at that moment, all you want to do is to scrunch up into a ball and be far, far away from him and his cold, unknown touch.
Your breathing fastens up, but all you can do is stare at him with wide eyes, wondering where did that sweet, loving boyfriend of yours go and got replaced by this?
When he sees you aren’t arguing back, his menacing grin only widens, and he takes his hands off you, turning to start up the truck again and continue to drive – as if absolutely nothing happened.
A hand rests on your thigh, softly rubbing the skin through the material of your pants, but you’re too afraid to even slightly move under the touch. It’s cold, it sends shivers down your spine, and you don’t know who’s hand it is.
If only someone could stop and tell you that you had lost your ‘loving’ boyfriend forever.
↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-
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lovely-keii · 5 months
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being their sibling
characters: tsukishima kei, oikawa tooru, suna rintarou
a/n: i write a fic every time i rewatch hq LOL sorry ik i said im abandoning this blog buuuut…happy bday to this blog!! (repost from 1/5 because tags broke :(( )
part 1
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TSUKISHIMA KEI
looks out for you, but he can’t help that hes so emotionally constipated :’( he tries to give you advice because he genuinely is concerned for you but just is unable to word anything properly. see: “you need to stop talking to that person, you’re being a pushover,” but he just wants you to realize you’re letting people walk all over you.
god forbid he has to comfort you because hes the wrong brother for that - you’re definitely in better hands with akiteru. he might walk in on you crying and contemplate if he’ll even say anything or just ignore it flat out, or he’ll say something like “don’t cry, you look stupid.” if you cry more, he’ll end up swallowing his pride and sitting next to you. he’ll groan and reluctantly, “fine, spill it.”
other than that, he’s going to be a sneaky little prick. definitely the type to take revenge on you if you annoy him. you eat the last piece of chocolate he was saving and suddenly you find your charger hidden deep under your bed. also loves to take things without your permission. “why? i’m just using it, it’s not like you need it now.”
if someone picks a fight with you, he’ll be quick to extract you from the situation before saying something ruder and harsher than usual to the person. and if you tell him you like someone from his team, he’s going to look at you like you’re crazy. “are you insane?!” he’s honestly more bewildered than upset. doesn’t let you anywhere near the gym. he can make an exception for yamaguchi though. “at least it’s not hinata…or worse, kageyama.”
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OIKAWA TOORU
your life is never boring with this guy as your brother. you’re literally being dragged everywhere, practices, shopping, team events… you’re like “i’m not even part of the team.” he goes “we can fix that!” and the next day you find out that you’re the manager for the boys’ volleyball team. huh, wonder how that happened.
oh my god, he MILKS you being his manager. “hold my drink, my fans are calling.” “y/n get my towel please.” you’re absolutely seething at the power trip that this guy is on. eventually, you start doing all that for his other team members and not for him, and he gets so whiney. “y/n you’ll get big ugly iwaizumi a towel but not your own sweet brother?!” that earns him a spike to the head from iwaizumi.
he tells you all the gossip about the school, because believe me, he knows A LOT of things. he’ll do his skin care while he forces you to listen to his gossip, cue him getting mad if you try to leave. everyone realizes why you two are siblings when you two walk down the halls and pull the exact same faces at the people he’s told you about in his gossip.
he makes you his little scapegoat for his fangirls. “oh, you want my number? you’ll have to ask y/n for that, they keep my phone with them during practice!” (you dont) “now, why don’t you girls hand all these gifts to my lovely sibling for me?” (you almost immediately chuck them at his face when you see him) but you know the best way to get back at him? when he sees you even slightly conversing with ushijima or kageyama, all hell breaks loose.
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SUNA RINTAROU
the devil if the devil was your brother. he takes the ugliest pictures of you, when you’re asleep, when you’re yelling, when you’re crying over a movie. he also loves to send you pictures of animals and send a “look at you in this picture, so cute”. he also takes your things without asking and never returns it, you’ll just find it in his bag one day.
he also is one to order you around, and it drives you mad. “pass me the remote, y/n.” “but it’s nearer to you.” “i’ll tell mom that you-” // “y/n get me a drink from the vending machine.” “why would i do that” “remember when you snuck out and i-” // “get my bag too when you get yours.” “no.” “what i post that one picture of you when you’re about to sneeze-”
but he’s always looking out for you. when creeps try to approach you, he’s quick to react by shooting them a nasty glare. he’s a silent kind of care. standing behind you on elevators, walking on the outer side of the sidewalk, staying up late til you come home and just telling you he just couldnt sleep. little do you know, it’s something he’s always done even as a kid. putting more food on your lunch box, holding the corner of tables when you pick something up so you don’t hit your head, returning your things that are sprawled around the house to your room so you don’t lose them.
and if he ever finds you crying over some guy, he sighs and sits down next to you. “why’re you crying over an idiot?” he then makes snappy insults at the expense of the guy, making you laugh. “see? you look better like that. now stop crying and let me get some sleep.” he closes the light and shuts the door on his way out.
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