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fangswbenefits · 10 months

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Sharing is Caring (II)

Summary: Things get complicated, but you find yourself sharing a bed with Miguel… once again. Too bad someone else is in the room.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Sharing one bed. Semi-public. Blue balls. Sexual tension. Mutual masturbation. Creampie. Implied cockwarming.

* ˚ ✦ Part 1. (you don’t have to read it to enjoy this one, though)

You were fucked.

Extremely fucked.

Not only had the anomaly managed to slip through your fingers, effectively disabling the trackers scattered around, but you were also fucked, because now you were left to deal with the aftermath of a very intimate encounter with Miguel.

It was nearly five in the morning and the night was nowhere near being done. Fortunately, it had stopped raining, which helped with visibility and grip, and having Lyla assist you as in replacing the faulty sensors was also very much welcome.

“Sensor 24 up and running,” the AI’s sing-song voice announced, as the device bleeped green.

You leapt over the railing, shooting a string of web to the side of the hotel, so you could swing through the window.

As you landed with a clumsy thump, you noticed Miguel had already gotten back from his reconnaissance check.

He looked positively… pissed off.

Great.

“Lyla, call her,” her grumbled, checking his watch.

“Already did,” she announced, appearing by his shoulder. “Want me to run a diagnostics of the perimeter once again?”

“Do it in five minute intervals,” he said flatly. “The anomaly must be nearby.”

You removed your mask and considered sitting on the bed, but were soon reminded that not even thirty minutes ago, you were getting fucked by Miguel.

A shudder ran through your body.

“You okay?” he asked, his narrowed eyes on you.

You shrugged. “Sure.”

The problem with having impromptu sex was that now you were left to deal with the soreness between your legs, and the frustration of an orgasm that never came to be.

Did Miguel feel the same way?

Your eyes roamed his body, and you find yourself glaring at his-

“Hey! I need you to focus,” Miguel said with a snap of his fingers. “There’s still a chance we deal with it tonight.”

You were about to snap back when a loud distorted buzz filled the room, swirls of flashing lights nearly blinding you, as the inter-dimensional portal expanded quickly in pulsating waves.

Through came Jessica Drew, followed closely by Peter B. Parker.

Fuck.

“What are you doing here?” Miguel growled, pointing at Peter.

“What?” he asked, eyes widening in confusion.

Miguel wasn’t known to be a very patient man, and you reckoned his patience was now hanging by a thread. “I called for Jess. Not you.”

Jess let out an exasperated sigh. “Easy, Miguel. We were both on the same mission.”

He straightened up, but crossed his arms. “Right.”

“Care to explain why I had to leave to be here?” she went on, resting on hand on her swollen belly. “How did you lose track of the anomaly?”

He exchanged a brief look with you. “The sensors didn’t alert us in time.”

That was true.

“Weren’t you supposed to be monitoring, regardless?”

“We dozed off,” you chimed in. “Momentarily! Just for a while.”

Not really true…

Jess glanced at you, suspicion written all over face.

“Sleeping on the job,” she then chuckled, eyeing Miguel deviously. “Didn’t think you’d ever do that, Miguel.”

He narrowed his eyes menacingly. “We weren’t sleeping. We were just resting our eyes for a moment.”

A blatant lie.

“What’s that on your neck?” Peter suddenly asked with a worried look on his face.

Oh….

You let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the tender hickey spot. “Bug bite.”

“Allergic reaction,” Miguel blurted out at the same time.

Fuck.

You shot him a murderous look.

Jessica arched an eyebrow. “Which one is it?”

“An allergic reaction to a bug bite,” Miguel said with a shrug, growing visibly annoyed.

A wave of relief washed over you momentarily. That seemed plausible enough.

But…

“Oh, really?” she asked with a knowing smile. “What bug? A spid-”

But Miguel was already cutting her off. “We don’t have time for this!”

Peter walked to you, craning your neck to the side. “You should have it checked. It looks serious.”

Ah, Peter… ever the innocent.

“Jess, you stay with us,” Miguel says, dragging Peter away from you at once. “We need an extra pair of eyes.”

She frowned. “No. Peter stays. I need to get some sleep,” she said, patting her belly.

“No!” Miguel growled.

“Actually, I was thinking of heading back home,” Peter drawled out, rubbing the back of his head. “Mayday should be waking up soon.”

“And I’m pregnant,” Jess shot, holding her chin high.

Peter swallowed and fell silent. The deal was sealed.

“Lyla, any updates?”

The hologram popped up instantly. “No, boss.”

Jess glanced over at you one last time, before stepping into the portal once again. “You should really have that checked. Whatever bug did that seems… vicious,” she then slipped into the vortex, which vanished behind her.

You momentarily froze in place, feeling the dread of realisation hit you like a ton of bricks.

She knew.

“I’ll be right back,” Peter drawled out with a yawn and a stretch, disappearing into the bathroom.

The moment you heard rhe door click shut, you turned to Miguel.

“An allergic reaction to a bug bite?” you hissed.

He scowled deeply. “Because simply saying bug bite sounded ridiculous.”

“She didn’t believe it, regardless.”

Miguel was suddenly towering over you, his face twisted in annoyance. “Then why does it matter?”

“Because… you gave me a visible hickey!”

It was a silly thing to get upset about. There were worse things in life than having Miguel O’Hara marking you as a result of built up sexual tension.

But you didn’t want to give in.

“Got carried away,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah…”

He cleared his throat. “But I have a problem.”

You looked up at him. “What problem?”

“Well…” he said, glancing at the bathroom door.

“Peter?”

“No!”

You clicked your tongue. “Then what?”

His placed both hands on his hips and glanced down.

Your eyes followed suit.

Oh.

“What? Why are you… what?” you stuttered in disbelief at the sight of the outline of his hardened cock.

“Biology, remember?” he said through gritted teeth. “It’s not going away.”

You somehow managed to tear your eyes from the impressive bulge. “Go jerk off, then!”

He had you walk back until you hit the wall behind. “It won’t go away.”

Had you just given Miguel blue balls?

“How’s that my problem?” you huffed, staring intensely into his crimson eyes.

“This is all your fault.”

“Oh, really? I thought we were blaming Biology.”

Before Miguel could retort, the sudden squeak of a door being swung open, had you slipped past him.

Peter emerged, eyeing you both. “Oh, I see what this is.”

Miguel had to move strategically in order to hide his raging boner from him. “What do you mean?”

“I know what’s up with you two,” Peter said, with a playful grin. “All the whispering and whatnot.”

Great.

Were you two that transparent?

“Huh…”

Miguel had pursed his lips.

Peter paced closer to you, eyeing you with a knowing smile. “You’re deciding on Jessica’s birthday present, right?”

You blinked a few times and heard Miguel exhale nearby.

“Right? I knew it!” he threw his arms in the air as if he’d just won the lottery.

In truth, you were simply baffled at how innocent Peter could be. The immediate weight that was lifted off your shoulders was enough to draw a laugh from you.

“Sure!”

“Of course, Peter,” Miguel said, voice dripping with his trademark sarcasm. “We went on this mission, so we could go through birthday checklists.”

A layer of pride settled on Peter’s face. “Ah! You’re growing soft, Miguel.”

You winced at his poor choice of words.

“But fear not!” he said as if he was about to fight off the anomaly himself. “We’ll take turns watching. You two can get some rest and properly plan it out,” he then pinched his thumb and index finger together and dragged them across his lips. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Miguel didn’t budge at first, but you were all too grateful to stop this insane conversation altogether.

“Thanks, Peter.”

“Of course,” he smiled widely, pacing to the open hotel window, leaping into the the sky night.

You shot Miguel one last look before slipping inside into the comfort of the bedsheets, welcoming the softness.

But you were sorely mistaken if you thought Miguel wouldn’t have followed you.

Your heart skipped a beat. Or two.

You had turned to face the wall, hoping he’d take the hint, and leave you be.

But once you felt his erection pressing into your ass, you knew you were a goner.

There was something extremely empowering about having a man like Miguel be so needy and desperate.

He scooted closer until his breath fanned your ear. “Can you just…”

You scoffed, pride swelling inside you. “Go ask Biology to jerk you off.”

“Whawt?”

“You keep blaming it, so…”

Silence fell between you two.

His hand then came to grip your hip. “It’s you.”

“I didn’t catch that,” you said, feeling his thumb rubbing gently, as he pushed the top half of your suit increasingly higher.

He rolled his hips into you, letting out a shaky moan in your ear that had your skin raise with goosebumps.

You flipped onto your other side to fully face him, and Miguel immediately took your lips with his, kissing you hungrily.

His hand dragged the fabric all the way up until he managed to expose one breast, breaking the kiss only to move down to suck on your hardened nipple.

The thought that he might be too much vaguely crossed your mind. For the second time that night you were meeting a side of Miguel that you had never seen before.

A side you much preferred.

Your fingers dragged through his hair, silently praising him.

In no time, you watched his digital suit disintegrate, giving you full access to the beautifully sculped body underneath.

He gripped your wrist and lowered it until your fingers grazed his cock. Knowing fully well what he craved, you wrapped them around it, earning an immediate jerk of his hips.

“Miguel…” you moaned, letting him freely fuck your hand, spilling more and more precum.

He released your nipple and had his forehead resting on your shoulder, his hand on top of your, making sure you squeezed tighter and tighter.

It didn’t take long for your hand to be soaked with precum, making it easier for him to slide up and down.

You squeezed involuntarily and a gush of wetness spilled into your underwear, your body yearning for him to fill you up with his cock.

He moved his hips deliciously, and you focused on taking in the wet sounds that filled the room as well as his breathless grunts.

But such bliss was short-lived as you heard Peter bolting into the room with a swish of his web.

Well…

Miguel immediately stilled, letting go of your hand.

You didn’t let go of his cock, instead peeking over his shoulder only to find Peter rolling out a sleeping bag on the floor.

He then turned to face you, and your head immediately slumped against the pillow, eyes on Miguel’s.

“Are you okay?”

“What?”

Peter’s voice was but a whisper. “Your heart rate is accelerated.”

Ah… spider senses.

“Yeah… I’m just a bit tense… it’s fine,” you muttered, feeling Miguel’s cock twitch in your hand. “Go get some rest. I’ll take over.”

“Oh! Thank you,” he beamed. “Mayday has been giving us terrible nights, and I could use a few minutes.”

You watched as he fluffed out his pillow before settling down on his back with a yawn.

Miguel’s breathing has steadied momentarily and you eventually let go of him.

But he quickly got a hold of your wrist.

The implication of that action wasn’t exactly subtle and you widened your eyes.

“No,” you mouthed right away.

His crimson eyes had darkened and you spotted his fangs from behind his lips.

You shook your head vehemently.

This was a bad idea.

But as soon as Peter’s snores tore through the room, you felt your heart clench.

“Peter is right there… he will hear it!”

He pressed an urgent kiss to your forehead. “We’ll be quiet. I’ll help you be quiet,” he promised, pressing his cock further into your already soaked crotch.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and just as you were about to let out a low whimper, you felt his hand cover your mouth, effectively reigning it in.

“Quiet.”

The other travelled down painfully slowly, palm grazing your exposed breast briefly, before resting just above the waistline of your suit.

“You have to be quiet,” he warned in a barely audible tone.

You nodded and he lifted his hand from your lips.

“We shouldn’t…” you muttered under your breath.

But your words were not matching your actions, as you dragged your hand covered in precum across his hard chest, taking your time to gently rub his nipple with your thumb.

You thought Miguel had stopped breathing altogether, but soon realised he was merely attempting to hold back a moan.

His fingers quickly slipped past the the waistline, finding your clit and drawing small circles. You had to bite your lip hard to suppress a whimper, rolling your hips into him.

You found his cock again, gripping it desperately and giving him a few pumps that matched the tempo of his strokes.

The thrill of indulging in such experience even when someome else was in the room, and with the increased chances of being caught, merely added to the pleasure you were already feeling.

“You’re doing good,” Miguel praised you through a shaky breath. “So good…”

Impatience took over and you wiggled out of your bottom half of the suit, allowing you to grant him betterr acces, as hou parted your legs.

He immediately seized it and slipped one finger inside.

You had to clasp your hand over your mouth to keep from groaning, eyes fluttering shut.

His breath was on your ear again. “Can you take one more?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice. A second finger immediately joined the first one, slinding inside effortlessly.

Feeling that you had managed to keep yourself under control, you dropped the hand covering your lips to grip his cock.

“And another one?”

You shook your head, fearing that would be too much. He pressed a kiss to your neck with a sigh, as he fucked your hand in a slow rhythm.

The knots of pleasure in your lower abdomen let you know that you were headed towards the precipice. You kept on riding his fingers relentlessly, your mind suddenly hazy from the feeling of being so full of him already.

“I’m close…” he mouthed, his breath shaky and cock twitching.

He had bared his fangs, and you thought you’d combust on the spot, realising he was truly overwhelmed with pleasure.

Finding your voice again, you whispered sensually, “Where do you want to cum?”

His eyed widened, pupils fully blown.

Your hips faltered briefly, grazing your clit across the palm of his hand. “Inside?”

He pressed his eyes shut and dug his fangs into his lower lip. “I won’t last.”

“I know,” you moaned, dragging thumb across his tip, feeling more droplets of warm precum coating your skin.

Peter suddenly let out a loud snore that made you jolt.

“Are you close?” Miguel asked.

“I’ll be with you inside me.”

You shifted on the mattress, and he removed his fingers from you at once, a wet sound filling the room.

Your body shuddered from the loss, but you soon felt his tip proding your entrance.

Before you could take another breath, he jerked his hips and slipped past your fold effortlessly.

His hand was on your mouth again, and this time you could taste yourself, as he struggled to keep your moans at a minimum.

It was also evident the sudden position was taking a toll on him. His steady pace was faltering with each passing second.

You soon entered the familiar point of no return, feeling an intense wave of pleasure tear from within you, blinding your vision with each pulse and contraction. It took all of your not to moan out loud even against his hand, the few shreds of sanity having a hold on you.

Miguel joined you, clearly not able to withstand the rhythmic squeezes around his cock as you reached your high.

Your caught a glimpse oh him biting the back of his other hand hard. He would for sure draw blood with his fangs, but you couldn’t even stay properly focused.

He bottomed out as deep as he could, spurts of cum coating your squeezing walls.

The two of you were struggling to breathe, shallow pants surrounding you.

“Oh my god! Butterfly!”

Peter…

You jerked away from Miguel in distress but with him still buried deep inside you, catching a glimpse of Peter sitting on the floor, breathing rapidly.

“Go back to sleep. It was just a dream,” you said with a smile.

Miguel pulled you into an embrace. “You did good.”

“Me? Not Biology?”

He scowled deeply.

“You can slide out now…” you whispered with a yawn.

Miguel didn’t move. “I want to stay a little longer likes this.”

Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099

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esouliie · 2 months

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BUT DADDY, I LOVE HIM

– pairing | wanda maximoff x fem! reader

– synopsis | you and wanda come back from a very successful first mission together and decide to celebrate in the shower.

– warnings | soo if you’re a mutual dnr (jk), this is literal filth, dom/sub dynamic, spanking mention, fingering (both! receiving), face slapping, mommy kink of courseee, pet play, dub con kinda(?) bc she forces you to pee… so piss kink🤠, dacryphilia, oral (w! receiving), some aftercare and cute lil fluff moment at the end as wanda wraps you in her towels bc she’s so mommy! :3 (18+)

– notes | i honestly have nothing to say about this other than i wanted to try something new and out of my comfort zone. it was supposed to be a blurb but ended being over 2.6k so enjoy lmao >.<

It was your first mission as a couple. Unsurprisingly, it went well. To your core, you knew you’d both be fine. Wanda's leadership and responsibility were unwavering, and you knew deep down that you'd both succeed. Yet, your anxiety had waged its own battle, inundating you with "what ifs" and worst-case scenarios throughout the week.

The adrenaline still courses through your veins, mingling with the fatigue that weighs down your muscles. Dust and grime cling to your clothes, evidence of the challenges you faced together. But amidst the exhaustion, there's a sense of accomplishment, knowing you've made your girlfriend proud.

On the flight home, you shared a tired chuckle, the tension of the mission slowly fading away in the comfort of each other's presence. And all those earlier nerves fading to nothing but relief, knowing you’re both going home. Safe and sound.

…

“I need this suit off me,” Wanda exclaims, her voice weary but tinged with a hint of amusement. She kicks off her boots, already having peeled off her corset, dropping it in a heap by the door.

You giggle in agreement, the sight of your usually intimidating girlfriend as she struggles to take off her tactical gear highly amusing. “Yeah, I think I need a shower to feel human again.”

The sweat-slicked fabric of your own corset sticks uncomfortably to your skin. You would’ve thought Tony would at least have the decency to make your suit more breathable if he was going to stick you in a tight corset…. guess not.

Wanda shoots you a pointed look as you fiddle with your top. Your breasts push deliciously against the black fabric and she licks her lips at the sight of you - totally unaware of her growing desire.

“Well, we could save some water and shower together.”

The suggestion doesn’t catch you off guard as you’re used to the witch coming up with lame excuses to see you naked, and the idea of standing under the hot spray with an equally naked Wanda sounds infinitely more appealing than facing the solitude of your own shower.

“You know, if you wanted to see me naked, you could’ve just said so.”

With a smirk and after a quick press of her lips against yours, Wanda heads towards the back of the apartment, tossing a teasing glance over her shoulder as she beckons for you to follow. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

“Hold on, babe,” You quickly follow in her steps, your trousers and socks long gone, as you enter the shared bedroom, heading for the en-suite. “I need to use the bathroom first-”

Soft lips cut you off as hands slip around your back, swift in removing your blasted corset. She doesn’t wait to grope your chest - deciding she’s been teased enough seeing you in that tight material - and thumbs swipe over pebbled nipples, as she bites her way down your neck.

With an attitude that Wanda usually wouldn’t let slide, "This couldn't have waited five minutes?"

She replies with a quick “nope” and a harsh nip as she mouths at your skin, now adorned with pretty little red marks.

“But I need to go-” Her teeth digging softly into your nipple interrupts your train of thought as your hands shoot up to weave into dark curls, scraping at her scalp.

You say her name in a breathy moan and she replies with her own; kissing, licking, and sucking as much of you as she can. Your eyes flutter close but an ever harsher pinch to your nipple jolts you forward, eyes wide in search of the culprit.

“Eyes on me.” And with that, she steps away, starting the shower as she adjusts the temperature until steam billows from the stall in a comforting cloud.

As she moves under the spray, you can't help but admire the way the water glistens on her skin, tracing the curves of her body in rivulets that disappear beneath the cascading stream. Emboldened by the steam and the intimacy of the moment, you strip off your panties and join her in the shower, letting the water wash away the tension that has settled in your muscles.

For a while, there is only the sound of water pounding against tile, as you both take time to clean yourselves on irrespective sides. The shower was big enough for more than two, designed with two large showerheads on either side and one in the middle that you never turn on. But then, Wanda breaks the silence with a soft laugh, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she looks at you.

“Cute butt.”

You turn your head towards her, refusing to turn fully away from the warm stream cascading down your front.

“What? This butt?” You tease, hands gliding down your hips to grab a handful of your cheeks, before rubbing slow circles, making a show of the usually marked flesh.

Wanda may have liked having you as her good girl, but there was only so much you could take before reverting to your bratty self.

Turning away from your girlfriend, not letting her win at her game of teasing, you resume cleaning yourself. But, light fingertips brushing along your left nipple tell you she’s no longer on her side. The water makes everything even more slick, a delicious friction that almost wasn't.

She guides the heel of her other hand down your side, cresting over your ribs until it reaches your ass. Rubbing circles over where your hands were, her eyes glazed over remembering the last time she had you bent over her lap, hues of purple and red stretched over the skin as she spanked you for mouthing off in front of the team.

She husks, “Uh huh. But I like it better with my marks all over.”

Not wasting any more time, she wraps an arm around, fingers sliding down your lower stomach and graciously over your slit, just nearly missing your bundle of nerves. As if she was the one being played with, she groans freely into your ear, her front grinding flush against your back.

“Spread your legs.” And you find yourself obeying, weight shifting to rest on your palms against the tiles. She chuckles softly, teasing you along the lines of being an “eager baby,” before two fingers glide across your peaked clit, and then curl them into your hot passes.

Your head begins to throb, a sign of the tension building within you. "Don't tease," you plead, knowing that the steam only exacerbates your headache. You reach for the faucet, desperately craving relief from the suffocating heat, but a hand stops you.

You find yourself being spun around to face the taller woman, your back arching away from the cold bite of the tiles. She stares down at you with an all familiar head tilt that dares you to challenge her, to defy her from taking what is hers.

But you remain still and she takes that as an initiative to slide inside deeper, a small smile on her face at your obedience. Starting at a hard yet slow pace, she fucks into you with little remorse. A reminder of that she owns you and can have you however she wants.

Just how you like it.

“Such a pretty little slut. Taking my fingers like that, huh? So fucking greedy.” She laughs as you cling onto her towering figure, the pleasure all too consuming as you whine and whimper so openly.

Chasing that high, you fail to notice how different you feel. Waves of pleasure burdened with a slight ache as you flutter around her. The front of your walls stimulated constantly as you rock into her thrusts. Looking down, you watch as she disappears inside of you and suddenly you remember how you needed to pee earlier. The urge to go had left as soon as Wanda started to suck at your nipples.

Your head snaps back, eyes searching to catch Wanda’s attention. But it was already on you as a smirk spreads across her face. “Don’t you have to go, baby?” She asks in a husky whisper.

Your mouth opens but no sound comes out as you resort to nodding relentlessly.

“Aw, you can hold it for me, can’t you?” She coos, fingers never slowing their pace. “I want to play with you a little longer.”

Knowing you won’t be able to hold out, the need to go growing stronger and stronger now that you remember, you whine out, “No, please, Wands- I won’t- I can’t hold it.”

With a fake sigh that conveyed an air of dissatisfaction and yet subtle empathy, “Then go right here.”

You grimace at the thought of peeing on your girlfriend, how gross it would be… the embarrassment would be too much to recover from.

“I don’t want to.” You admit, embarrassment working its way slowly into your mind, not far enough gone to allow Wanda to think for you.

She doesn’t like that, and so, her fingers work faster inside of you. Her other hand moving between pinching your nipples mercilessly and holding your hips down.

“I don’t care.” She hisses out, “If you need to go, you better do it now. Don’t make Mommy wait.”

Making Wanda wait was something you didn't really want to do, having seen the consequence on many occasions when you couldn’t come when she permitted you, but it was difficult. What she was asking of you was difficult.

With her less busy hand, she slaps a palm against your cheek, the sound echoing against the tiled walls, wet skin against wet skin making the assault sting worse than usual. “I won’t tell you again, slut.”

She doesn’t like how easily you can lose focus, your brain clearly overworking when you should be letting go, focusing solely on her.

You mumble out a soft “okay”, not wanting to be slapped again, before closing your eyes and willing yourself to relax around her fingers. Your body no longer fighting against the urge, fighting to hold it in.

But tight circles around your sensitive clit and fingers deep inside don’t stop as they continue pushing you closer to the edge. Your hand grips tight around her wrist, but to no avail. She was too strong and you couldn’t help but surrender to your throes of pleasure.

Hot liquid runs down the inside of your thighs and your eyes snap shut, shielding yourself from what’s happening, as you also begin to come – unable to stop the stream of piss, the flow faster and out of control as fingers still fuck into you.

“Oh, darling... look at you.” She coos, a hint of bewilderment evident in her voice. Not expecting you to actually look, but teasing you for it all the same. She revels in the way the warm liquid slips through her fingers on to the white flooring.

Despite how mean she was, you hold tight onto her as you lose the ability to stand on your own, legs wobbling beneath. You feel her push you further into the wall, using her body as support, not wanting to take her hand away from your weeping pussy.

“That’s it.” She says softly, fingers coaxing more pleasure from your clit. “Such a messy puppy.”

Tears fall from beneath your eyelids and you open your mouth to speak, only to be silenced with her tongue down your throat.

“That was so hot.” She admits before diving back in, teeth clashing as you open your mouth wide enough for her taking. Her tongue draws yours out as she wraps around it, sucking feverishly. Feeling you release all over her fingers - the heat easily detectable under the stream of water above as you managed to splash against her pale skin - turned her on so much, she couldn’t help but fidget, battling the urge to just fuck against your soaked thigh.

The kiss eventually comes to an end, the need to breathe overpowering the need for having Wanda explore your mouth, a few hungry strands of saliva linking you together.

“Good job, baby. You did so good for me.” She says, coaxing you further into that fuzzy feeling. She nuzzles into your neck, lightly nipping over your fluttering pulse, soothing the heated skin with her tongue. The steam making it harder to see anything clearly. You whine in reply, words no longer existing in your mind, as your heavy arms wrap around her waist.

Wanda, unbeknownst to you, wants you in this headspace—all clingy and dependable. She knows how easily things affect you, so she knew that pushing you hard like she did earlier, forcing you to pee all over her, would only cause your brain to overthink and turn against you. She had to keep you like this, for your sake as well as hers.

“I know you’re feeling all floaty but Mommy needs you to do something for her, sweetheart.” She grabs your hand heading towards the slick between her thighs. She was dripping, her clit so swollen it was hard to miss, and you couldn’t help but trace slow circles around the bud. “Mommy needs you here.”

She encourages you further with a moan so arousing, it had you almost slipping inside of her, desperate to make her come around your fingers already.

She whines, needing you to focus. “I want your mouth, baby.”

You sink to your knees, knocking her legs apart to accommodate. You hoist a leg and place it over your shoulder before leaving a line of wet kisses from her knee to the inside of her thigh. Her fingers caress your face, before getting a good hold of your wet curls and drawing you closer to where she needs you most. You waste no time and lick the length of her centre, greedily taking in the arousal that had gathered there. Wanda lets out a low groan and your eye flutter at her sweet taste. She urges you with the hand that was still tangled in your hair. Obedient to the woman’s demand, you push closer, tongue teasing around her entrance as the tip of your nose pushes into her nerves.

The grip in your curls tightens as she begins to guide your head up and down, your tongue running from just inside her, up along that sweet nerve. She curls forward, one hand against the wall, as she fucks against your face. You lick greedily, jaw slack as you let her take control, smearing her wetness all over.

Every pant melds with a breathy moan as she chases her orgasm. Lost in pleasure, she knocks your head against the tiles. It hurts - your headache now forming for certain - but she doesn’t notice until one sharp thrust has you letting out a sharp cry.

“Oh, I’m sorry, baby.” She husks, arousal still clouding her senses, but she’s concerned with your wellbeing as the hand in your hair travels to soothe where you hit your head, making sure there’s no bumps or cuts. Your eyes flutter shut but you don’t revel in the comfort for too long. Her diagnoses done, she guides you back to her pussy.

She doesn’t fuck your face this time, allowing you the space to gingerly tease her entrance, and within a few seconds, your curling your fingers inside while making a hither motion, eliciting long moans from the older woman.

You don’t bother working your way up, knowing how close she was to finishing before she stopped, as you flick at her clit, fingers pressing against her front walls with an expertise only she could teach you.

At this point, Wanda can’t stop moaning. Her hand leaving your hair as she palms her breasts, slipping her nipples between her fingers and pinching the sensitive flesh. Words of encouragement fly from her lips as she lingers on the edge and you work faster, harder, propelling her forward into a blinding orgasm. Her body trembles violently and you smooth your palms over her thighs, feeling the strong muscles rippling beneath.

“Fuck.” She draws out, light flicks of your tongue helping her come down, before she’s ushering you back on to your feet. You slide up and press against her awaiting lips, pushing your body against hers. Sensitive nipples rub against each other and she groans as she tastes herself, hungrily kissing back. She’s always been able to recover much quicker than you.

“Thank you, baby.” She whispers, still a little breathless, before she turns to shut off the water. Her hand grasps yours and you step out the shower, feeling a slight chill as the warmth of the water dissipates. Wanda reaches for a fluffy towel, wrapping it around you first before turning her attention to herself. With practiced ease, she begins to pat your skin dry, her touch sending ripples of warmth through you.

She always takes such good care of you.

“Looks like I need to wrap your hair.” She says, a tender smile gracing her lips. She had managed to avoid getting her hair wet unlike you with your curls clinging to the sides of your face. Her fingers work deftly to wrangle them into a towel but she’s had enough experience and managed to do it first time.

“All done, little mermaid.” She lets go with a peck to your lips, moving towards the door, and you grab onto her stretched out hand.

“Come on,” She tugs gently, “Let’s watch a movie.”

#my fics! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff #cr: @chilumitos

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zegrasdrysdale · 4 months

Text

[ best christmas ever ] q. hughes

day eight of malia’s christmas fic marathon

pairing : Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) gives fiancé Quinn what could be considered the best Christmas present he’s ever gotten

warning(s) : pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage

author’s note : i think this could be considered a blurb w how short it is tbh but here’s this cute lil thing :)

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Her hands shake as Quinn unwraps the present that is going to change his entire life. Keeping this a secret for nearly two weeks has been killing her so the fact that her fiancé is seconds away from finding out is exciting and terrifying at the same time.

It's the last present that is being unwrapped this morning while it's just the two of them in their Vancouver apartment. (Y/N) made sure it was the last present unwrapped by taking it out of the closet after all the gifts under the tree from friends and family were opened.

Quinn tosses the ripped up wrapping paper into the trash bag on the ground between them before he opens the box.

Inside is a little Canucks jersey with Quinn's number and 'C'. Quinn is clearly very confused by the tiny jersey so she says, "Turn it around, Quinn."

Laughter is evident in her voice but she doesn't know if it's because of Quinn's confusion or because she's nervous.

She watches his eyes widen when he sees the back of the jersey. In place of Hughes on the back of the jersey is the word "daddy". Quinn looks over at (Y/N) with those wide eyes. "You better not be lying to me, (Y/N)," he says so seriously.

"Eight weeks," she tells him as she rests a hand on the very tiny bump that is under the large t-shirt she's wearing. "I found out three weeks ago and went to make sure everything was okay two weeks ago. When I was told that everything with this baby was perfect, I got the jersey made."

After they lost their last little one over the summer very early on, she didn't want to get Quinn's hopes up again so she went and got every single test done that she could before she told him. The last thing she wanted was to tell him then lose another baby. It nearly broke her in June, and almost broke them.

She couldn't do that again. Not this time.

"You kept this from me for three weeks?" Quinn asks. His voice is soft so he isn't mad. She stays quiet and nods. "Is everything okay?"

(Y/N) slowly nods, still hesitant. "Baby H is growing and developing at the rate they're supposed to be this time," she assures him. "I'm healthy. Baby is healthy. I just needed to be sure before I told you this time. I know how much you want to be a dad and I didn't want to get your hopes up then my body let you down for the second time."

Tears that she didn't know formed in her eyes spill onto her cheeks. She does her best to wipe them away quickly, but he notices them.

Quinn puts the jersey back in the box and moves close to her. He pulls her into a tight hug and she buries her face into his shoulder.

"Your body just wasn't ready last time," Quinn softly tells her as he runs his fingers through her hair. "I love you. I'm so excited to be here with you for the rest of your pregnancy. You're already an amazing mom."

She lets out a silent sob into Quinn's shoulder before she pulls back. "You're not mad I didn't tell you when I found out?" she questions.

"Absolutely not," he assures her with a smile on his lips. She can see that he's genuine when he says that. "I'm happy to know now. I can't wait to go to every appointment with you now. I can't wait to see our baby when you have an ultrasound done. I can't wait to tell all our friends and family and my teammates. I can't wait to meet Baby H. (Y/N), I'm so excited."

His happiness quickly erases any anxiety she felt before he opened that box. She can tell how excited he is about the next chapter in their lives. "Glad I didn't ruin your Christmas by telling you," she jokes.

"Are you kidding?" Quinn says. "This is probably the best Christmas ever. We're going to have a baby. This is the best present I think I have ever gotten on Christmas. Knowing we're going to start the family we have always wanted together is the best present."

A smile finally forms on (Y/N)'s lips. "We're going to have a baby," she softly echoes. Quinn nods and matches her smile.

She launches herself at him, finally sharing the happiness that Quinn is feeling. He falls onto his back onto the carpeted floor and catches her in his arms. He laughs and wraps his arms around her waist. He stares up at his fiancée. "We get to finally be parents," he tells her. "Our rainbow baby."

"Our rainbow baby."

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#hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #hockey blurb #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #nhl blurb #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fluff #malia’s christmas marathon

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lo1k-diamonds · 10 days

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SX Seoul series | Namjoon entry 💜 Closer

GIF by namchyoon

PAIRING: Namjoon x Reader (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: Namjoon and you were friends for years — he was your confidant, protector, and haven. You didn’t want to risk it, no matter what, but some things can’t be kept in the dark.

WORD COUNT: 8.2k

GENRE: friends to lovers, smut (it's lovemaking tbh)

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: reader is shy and introverted, mentions of anxiety, being in the dark in an agitated crowd (reader is safe w/ NJ), fear of losing a friendship, porn w/ plot (lovemaking, or my version of it), unprotected sex (wrap it up), dry humping, riding, they're both shy and idiots in love but they make it 💜

A.N. Is this a slow burn? Am I searingly slowly taking you all on the journey that is kissing and feeling Kim Namjoon? Some could say there was no need to describe it in such detail. They would be wrong 💜

Someone called your name and you looked up.

“Come on! Don’t fall behind!”

You gasped mutely and rushed in between the ever-growing crowd to join your friends and coworkers atop the stairs. The line wasn’t too big tonight but you still preferred to stay close to them — no way you wanted to be left alone in a bar street in Itaewon in the middle of the night. You pressed your hands nervously, looking around while your friends laughed about something you didn’t hear. No, you didn’t want that. There could be weird people and drunk people, and you were the designated driver anyway—

“Hey!”

You blinked at Juhyun through your glasses with big wide brown eyes like a deer caught in headlights.

“Come along!” She sighed, extending her hand so you’d grab it, and you did with relief.

You gave your coat at the reception with a polite head bow, following closely after everyone. The noise hit your ribcage with the force of an alarm, making you grin with gritted teeth but you took a deep breath and hurried along. It wasn’t like you never went out, or had never been there before. SX Seoul had become the preferred club of people working in the industry, and so you found yourself with a vibrating ribcage and sweaty hands every once in a while. However, you did get anxious in crowded loud places like bars and clubs. An elbow sank into your side as you followed after Juhyun and despite the person’s apology and head bow, which you returned, you smiled with a hint of tiredness. The night had just begun.

You got set on the couches, saying hi to everyone you knew who was already there, and smoothly offered to help everyone get drinks. That was an easy way for you to get an alcohol-free drink early on and successfully avoid being offered drinks for a long while.

“Look who’s DJying tonight!”

You had sat near Juhyun after handing her a drink and smiled happily, engaging in light conversation.

“Didn’t you write his breakout music video?”

“Yeah, I did!”

You smiled politely, a warm fuzzy feeling settling in your stomach — you might have not liked the constant background house beat that had you all screaming to be heard, but you did feel proud of your work. Of every concept you had written, every storyboard you had designed, and every screening you helped with that led you to where you were now — in a creative atmosphere surrounded by like-minded people who just wanted to bring joy and creativity to the world.

As the night continued, you were more and more comfortable, surrounded by people you knew. You didn’t think it could get better, but as soon as Namjoon arrived, you grinned from ear to ear and chuckled at your silliness.

“Hi everyone!” You instantly scooted over and made space for him to sit beside you and join in the conversation, yet as you tried to keep up, he leaned in, “Driving?”

You turned to him and smiled sheepishly, something he returned with a sweetness of his own. You had been friends forever; he knew the answer to his own question.

“Your hair,” he added.

You blinked then felt for it over your shoulders and chest, trying to see in between psychedelic blinding lights if something had happened to it or something.

“No! Just— It’s loose!”

You blinked again, pressing your glasses up the bridge of your nose, “Well, yeah.”

He smirked briefly, looking down before facing you again with a gentle puff, “It looks good!”

Your lashes batted once before someone asked for his attention, and just in time. You could feel the heat spreading from your chest to your cheeks and turned to sip at your drink seemingly absentmindedly.

He noticed? You didn’t know why it surprised you so much; Namjoon was an attentive friend. Caring too, he always noticed when something was going wrong or a project was difficult. He always offered to help you out, and you did the same. You had that kind of relationship — friendly and supportive. Of course, that didn’t mean he had to notice your hairstyle for tonight. You had just let go of your usual braids to something more casual — just loose over your shoulders. And now there you were, playing with the long hair locks over your chest like your heart wasn’t fluttering at the simplest interaction.

“Hey! Let’s dance!”

You nodded at Juhyun and got up with a smile that crumbled just a little when Namjoon got up too. He scratched the back of his neck, sheepishly smiling at you and Juhyun.

“You don’t mind if I join you, right?”

“Of course not!”

She had answered for you because yet again you were pressing your lips. Namjoon wasn’t half as bad a dancer as he thought he was and you had all danced together before. Had you blushed then as you did now? You wondered as you beelined to the center of the dancefloor; you couldn’t remember. In the end, it didn’t matter. You smiled as you turned to Namjoon in that circle of people just randomly facing each other in turns. It didn’t have to be anything much, you were just having fun. All of you. It was absolutely fine.

He grabbed your hand and wiggled it for you to pivot and move around and you just laughed and did as told because it was fun. And not a big deal if he didn’t do it to the others, they were busy shouting in each other’s ears anyway.

You felt light and didn’t think it could get better than this when all of a sudden everything became pitch black. The music shut down and suddenly all you could hear was your ears ringing annoyingly and people either shouting or wondering a bit louder than usual about what was going on. It took you a couple of seconds to realize that it couldn’t be normal for a club to just abruptly shut down like that, and it was enough for your anxiety to instantly spike and sting your chest. Yet a pair of arms circled you lightening fast, pressing you safely to a firm chest.

Your cheeks were squished against his pectorals and you could hear a heart racing equally to yours under your ear. A question never formed itself, you knew exactly who was hugging you. It was safe now. You hugged him back and closed your eyes, using his body like an anchor to keep your anxiety from releasing you into the rowdy sea.

Namjoon could hear people getting agitated all around you two, making him squeeze you harder against him. People got nervous in situations like those. They could start running for the exit, pushing and stepping over people without a care if the panic was big enough. And as the absence of music and light continued, mere seconds felt like minutes cracking under the pressure as people became agitated.

He knew crowded places made you anxious. That was how you justified the way he was pressing his lips to the top of your head. It made your already racing heart jump with a foreign feeling, which mixed with his musky cologne had you sweating and not out of nervousness.

A louder shout not so far from you startled you into pressing your fingertips into his lower back and he immediately hugged you tighter. His lips brushed the top of your head again but the agitation around you was too loud, making it impossible to discern what he had said. Yet, regardless, you were safe. You could feel people shifting around you, voices becoming louder, and the occasional glimpse from people's phones. A wave of appreciation and gratitude flooded you, flowing over your anxiety and you unglued your cheek from his shirt to tell him.

His lips pressed lightly atop your cheekbone and your breath caught. His nose had tapped against your glasses and you instinctively squinted though you couldn’t see. None of it bothered you though, on the contrary. Your lips parted in surprise, his thumb dragging across your jawline as if to make sure of where you were in the dark.

You forgot about the world around you. You were suspended in the air, in a trance, waiting for what would happen next, and it happened unexpectedly. His forehead touched yours and you closed your eyes, letting him cradle you sweetly. Little did he know that you could feel no anxiousness now, you were a blank page waiting to be written on.

Or maybe he knew. He didn’t force your chin but he did mutter something while his lips brushed your jawline, and you turned your head. Curiosity, it was all it was. Because you hadn’t heard him, but as your skins brushed, your lips caught the subtle hint of something plush and wet for the tiniest of moments.

You became dizzy and gripped his shirt at the end of his back. Was that what you thought it was? Was that—?

All it took was a millimeter for him to give you the hint that you took without hesitation. His lips pressed to the corner of your mouth and you sighed, eyes scrunching with the tension inside your chest. You were no mind and all instinct when you parted your lips further to get more, just a bit more. All you were ready to do was react, so when it felt like he was about to break away, you closed in.

You were incredibly aware of everything that involved Namjoon. The way his long fingers supported your jawline with a feather-like touch, his short hair falling just above his eyes tickling you where it got to your skin around your glasses, the softest touch of his plush lips as even his breath eased, the gentlest breeze caressing your face whenever you tentatively parted and rejoined like waves kissing the shore.

You were aware of everything, and yet when the lights and music came back on, you were helpless. Namjoon straightened up to look around, trying to figure out what was going on, while you were just looking up at him, gripping him still, trying to figure things out on your own. What was that? What—

“Are you okay?” Juhyun asked right behind you and you jumped in place, startled. You let go of Namjoon, and it was he who answered.

“Yeah, we stayed cool. Are you?”

“Yeah, they pushed around a bit though, geez,” she complained, running a hand through her hair. “What do you think happened?”

“Good question, I don’t know.”

You didn’t hear anything anymore, you were just staring up at him as he talked. Good question. You had no idea either. What happened? Did you really just kiss—

“Listen, if you’re bummed out, that’s okay,” Juhyun shouted above the music, pressing your arm gently. She looked concerned and you tried a smile.

You could guess you looked as befuddled as you felt, “Yeah, I kind of— But I’m your driver!” You shouted instead, remembering your responsibility with a firm shake of your head.

“It’s okay, we’ll catch a taxi!” She shouted with a nod. She knew you were usually anxious; something unnerving like that was surely too much for you. “I’m just worried about you going alone!”

“I’ll go with her,” Namjoon nodded, unwavering, and before you got to say something, Juhyun agreed.

“Take care, text me when you’re home,” she asked you, squeezing your hand once.

You were frowning, about to suggest staying a bit more so you could take her home too when a firmer hand replaced hers. Namjoon returned your gaze, said a quick goodbye with a wave to everyone else, and then pulled you behind him as he made your way out.

Your mind slowly got back on track with every step you took. His hand was firmly wrapped around yours, and despite his wide shoulders in front of you, sheltering you from the chaos, your anxiety guided your thoughts back to the surface with a forced gasp.

What were you doing? Maybe this would turn awkward. You and Namjoon had been good friends for years, you had always counted on him. Maybe that was a mistake, maybe he would be uncomfortable around you now. You didn’t want things to change, you didn’t want to lose his joyful grins, relaxing bicycle rides, and long quiet reading sessions back at his place.

You bowed as you took your coat at the reception and put it on before stepping out into the cold. He was no longer holding your hand, which was holding the coat’s collar to your neck instead. You swallowed and looked down, freezing atop the stairs while you ran by the options and he stepped down ahead of you. You don’t have to leave earlier because of me. I can get home safely by myself. I’m sorry if that was awkward, I—

“Where’s your car?”

You sucked in a breath and told him before turning to walk intently as quickly as possible. The cold was rough on your cheeks, despite the big round lenses of your glasses. You gritted your teeth not to quiver as you stepped carefully over the slippery sidewalk.

When you got to your car, you got in quickly and turned it on to give it time to warm up a bit. Namjoon had followed you inside in silence and was so quiet that his presence could have been buried under your anxiety.

You brushed your flushed cheeks and tried pulling your long hair free, realizing it was trapped between your blouse and the coat. You were so used to having braids that you forgot you needed to tend to your hair properly whenever you put your coat on and now you were stiff and stuck and—

“Easy,” he rasped, reaching to help you and you froze. You glanced up at him and stayed still as he alleviated the tension of the fabric over your shoulders to gently pull your hair out before leaning to repeat the same action on the other side. By then your eyes had lowered to his hands. The way he was handling your dark threads of hair as if it was the most precious silk, worthy of care and attention. “There.”

Your eyes jumped up in time to see him leaning back, a perfectly blank expression making your chest pang in nervousness. You were overthinking again.

“Thanks!” You squeaked, clearing your voice immediately as you leaned forward to reach the GPS screen, “Now, to Joonie’s…”

The drive was easier than you thought it would be. He commented on the cold, and then on what happened at the bar. He had never seen something like that at a bar, only at festivals or concerts. He wondered if the whole street had a power outage or if it was just that room. You mused that if it had been more than just the room, you’d surely hear about it in the news.

And just like that the car became quiet. Seoul always had traffic, even at 2:52 AM, it was nothing new. So while you comfortably focused on taking him home safely, your thoughts wandered elsewhere.

His lips were the softest thing you had ever touched in your life. Just the delicateness with which you had kissed, you didn’t think you had it in you. Weren’t kisses supposed to be messy? Powerful and passionate? Then how had you touched the pillowy clouds above?

Just remembering it had your guts burning in excitement, and you pressed your lips. Were you making any sense? But you had really done that; hiddenly in the dark, yes, but really. You had acted on your instinct for the first time and gotten a glimpse of the sky.

You wondered why now. Your friendship was old and comfortable, and he had always been a gentleman, protective but never overbearing. You thought he saw you as a colleague initially and then a friend with similar tastes. You pressed your lips right as you stopped the car in front of his apartment building. One glance at him and you knew that was the same old Namjoon you were used to. Maybe you had dreamed it. Maybe it was supposed to stay a dream.

“Would you like to come up?”

Your eyes jumped and widened, the shock as evident in your expression as a blinking billboard sign.

“I finished the new Murakami,” he continued swiftly, “so you can take it if you want. Or any other book.”

Your lips instantly twitched into a smile, “You finally finished it, then.”

He smirked as you turned off the engine and reached to get your bag, “Finally. You know how I am with his books.”

You nodded and got out of the car, the negative temperature clashing with your blushing cheeks. Yet you only smiled, locked the car, and teased him while you both went inside. Even the ride up the elevator was lighter; you two were back to your eased friendship where you got to poke fun at his annoyance with the repetitiveness of Murakami’s plotlines while enjoying every other detailed introspection he had to offer.

So when you passed the threshold of his apartment, you were as always. You both got your shoes off, though you kept your coat because you weren’t going to stay long. He offered you a drink despite you insisting that it was a quick visit, and as he disappeared into the kitchen to see what he could offer, you beelined to his reading corner.

That space always brought a smile to your face and comfort to your heart. That corner of the living room had a bookshelf from floor to ceiling separated by squared compartments that combined books and small plant pots in a myriad of colors. His most cherished one, however, was the bonsai on the small table next to the gray reading chair and ottoman. He'd let you take up the chair whenever you would read or work at his place, with him preferring the couch so he could stretch his legs more comfortably. You preferred the reading chair because the setting was a mood changer for you and you could use the different shelves to place your open books, especially when designing or writing ideas. Each square was organized in a particular way: some by authors, others by category, or type of work.

“I don’t have much,” you could hear him returning to you. “But I can make tea.”

You shook your head while you crouched, taking a look at your favorite section, “It’s okay, I won’t stay long. Where’s the Murakami?”

“Right here,” his voice sounded from above your head, and you glanced up to see him towering over you, reaching for the book lying by the ledge on the appropriate shelf. He eyed you and you smirked, pushing your glasses up your nose bridge before looking back down. The corners of his lips twitched as he gripped the book inside his hands; he knew you were just happily skimming through your favorite shelf, and that wasn’t the issue. You weren’t the issue, you were— He took a deep shaky breath, “Oh, right, I have another one.”

He placed the Murakami book on the small table and left your side in the direction of his bedroom, you noticed. You pressed your lips and got up, grabbing the book he was holding just now. Blood was rushing to your cheeks and you took a short breath to ease yourself. You were there just to grab that book. You were alone at Namjoon’s, and that had happened hundreds of times before. Not that you had ever kissed before, but you could be cool. It was in the dark anyway. Conceptually, if you were thinking of the outline of a music video, that meant it was a secret. You could keep a secret. You could pretend it never happened.

Overhearing his steps pulled you from the depths of your thoughts to check what he had in his hands.

“Here,” he grinned, showing it to you.

It was a book and you gasped before you grabbed it. The cover had the digital drawing of a little girl on her bed, not lying down, but facing the wall behind her that had become an ocean with sparkling rays floating above. The title read, ‘Windows to Worlds: The Art of Devin Elle Kurtz’. You thought the name rang a bell as you opened and skimmed through it.

“I thought of you,” he smiled, dimples sinking sweetly into his cheeks at your interested demeanor.

“Woah, her use of color and lighting looks absolutely astounding,” you breathed, alternating between gasping and stopping your breath altogether with each new page.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“But why did you get it?” You finally caught up, looking up at him. “Because I was struggling with lighting?”

Your tone was appreciative and almost savvy as if you knew you had guessed his intent correctly. Yet he shook his head once, “Because of the braids.”

You lowered your eyes to the cover again and indeed, the little girl had two braids, much like you usually sported. You smiled, “Do you think she has glasses too?”

“Maybe,” he acceded, nodding with ease.

You looked back down at the cover — the girl had her palms against the glass as if she was staring into a new magical world. It brought warmth to your chest. Not just because it was beautiful or because it was going to help you, but because Namjoon saw some of it in you.

You pressed the books to your chest, facing him to thank him when your smile fell. His expression had lost some of its casualness and you were immediately flooded with apprehension.

“Are we going to talk about it?”

His tone was so gentle it brought tears to your eyes. It was Namjoon. All of it, all of your doubts and anxiety were about one of the most important people in your life. Who cared how you might have felt; you absolutely could not jeopardize your friendship.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed so sincerely your voice shook.

“Oh.”

“I… It was…”

Your gaze was on the floor around his feet on the white carpet as you tried to find words. You half expected him to move or make things less awkward with his spirited humor, but he waited.

So you said what came to mind, “An accident. Right? It was an accident,” you repeated, ignoring the heat making your glasses fog ever so slightly. “It was dark and…”

You sucked in a breath and pushed your glasses up your nose bridge to soothe yourself, and froze when he nodded slowly.

“I… can’t call it an accident.”

Your eyes widened impossibly, “But— But then— I mean,” you blinked, “that would mean…”

You were just stammering and he smiled, “Yes. I don’t just— I wouldn’t just—” He smirked, scratching the back of his head, “I’d be lying if I said—”

His voice got caught inside his throat. You were looking up at him with eyes so big he feared they’d pop or something. He thought he was ready to talk about it and get it out in the open but— Were you even breathing?

“You know what? Never mind,” he shrugged, with a smile that pressed his plush lips too thin.

Your eyes widened even more, “No—” You almost choked from your impulse and instinctively stepped back, and everything went dark.

You held your breath as if you had been caught in a trap. You could have been back at the club, but there was no crowd, no fear, and no pressure. There was light still shining from his bedroom, reassuringly outlining his silhouette. You were safe, just like then. And it formed the words out of your mouth.

“I can't call it an accident either,” you confessed, and instantly your shoulders relaxed. He didn’t move and you couldn’t see him, but you knew him. You knew of his presence and the way he would never judge or hurt you. “I kissed you back.”

The silence continued between you but you found comfort in it. It was as though you had time to process, to put yourself back in your shoes moments earlier when exactly like that, in the dark, you let something from deep within surface.

“I was… curious,” you voiced quietly.

“Curious?”

“What would you… feel like? How would you…” you were getting lost and closed your eyes. You could almost feel him again, his warmth, his scent, the firmness of his arms around you, helping you levitate safely into the clouds. Your eyes opened at the sound of a footstep and you instantly flushed, “I mean, I— I’m sorry, I—”

“No, don't say sorry.” His outline drew closer until he stopped right in front of you. “You were curious about that?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

Why was your heart racing so fast? You were so hot that you knew for a fact your glasses were fogging, despite not being able to see it. You swallowed and fanned your face a little, self-conscious about your hands becoming sweaty and dirtying the books.

Yet as you tried to calm down, you realized silence was stretching. He was waiting, of course, gentlemanly as he was. And you were embarrassed but in the dark, you also wanted to be brave.

“I liked it.”

You leave it there, your sincere answer to his question. Your heart was thrumming wildly but you were not half as nervous as you thought you’d be.

“I liked it too.”

Your breath caught as you looked up despite barely seeing a silhouette. What?

“Would you do it again?”

“Now?” Your voice pitched.

“Yes.”

“Yes?” Your tone was inquisitive, but it was more out of shock that he said yes. You were heating up so much you didn’t think you were processing thoughts logically, and you weren’t. Your head was blank, “Yes.”

It felt like an eternity, but you knew that wasn’t true. You were just too eager to see what happened next, to feel him again and check if your head would be caught spinning as you floated away to the clouds again.

The books in your hands disappeared quickly, only the sound of them hitting the table told you their fate, and not that you cared. His breath was fanning your face and your head instantly fell back, tapping the wall as your lips parted and you waited for what you wanted most.

When it didn’t instantly come, you had no issues soothing his hesitation by guiding his hands to your jaw. You wanted him to know where you were; exactly there, between the wall and his safe embrace, waiting.

Finally, his breath was so close it fully stopped when your lips locked together in a feather-like touch, and you moved. You pressed yourself closer, brushing his lips so you’d match completely. Your mouth dove into a sweeter taste, fingers tracing up his neck tentatively to grasp that feeling. And he let you, falling in with you, leaning into you as far as you’d let him.

Your lips parted in an invitation that he took promptly, leaving a wet trace on your bottom lip before he committed. You sighed into his mouth, gripping his shirt to pull him closer. He could reach into you and all around you; you were falling. There was an expanse behind and all around you and it reminded you of free falling; it was probably what skydiving felt like. Only you weren’t nearing the ground but going further from it. That sky was about to catch you; a sweet, soft, endearing sky about to clasp you affectionately and carry you into a dream.

You only stopped because he pulled back, kissing the tip of your nose before pressing his lips to your cheek. It was when you noticed that you two fit together like puzzle pieces, with your fingers buried in the nape of his neck, his into your lower back, your breaths mixing as your legs intertwined.

His breath was heavy against your warm cheek, “This can stay here. In the dark. If you want.”

You were too far to recognize the concern in his voice, “Is that what you want?”

“No,” his reply was instant, a subtle shake of his head as his lips dragged over your heated skin. “No, I'm curious about way more than this.”

You opened your eyes, eager to see in him what he meant, but the darkness hid his expression. It protected you, yes, but now, it made you uneasy. There was a moment when it had soothed your fears, maybe even made you brave, but now it was enough.

“Would turning the light on bother you?”

You felt his smile before he pulled away, “Not at all.”

His hands were still supporting your waist as you felt the wall behind you until you flipped the switch. You shut your eyes instantly with a grimace and knew he had done the same.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

You couldn’t see it, but he smirked, “I told you you could.”

His eyes opened first, eager to bypass the sudden sensibility so he could look at you as soon as possible. Your eyes and nose were still scrunched, your glasses had fallen lower on your nose than you liked normally, and the top of your cheeks was beautifully blushed. He didn’t resist cupping your cheek to brush his thumb over the red hue and your eyes opened, looking up at him over your glasses. You were so close to each other but you couldn’t look or move away.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, eyes set on yours as if he was seeing stars.

“How can you see anything, we’re so close,” you whined with a huff.

He chuckled, “Yeah?”

You pouted; your glasses were falling down your nose bridge again, and he grinned. He was so unbelievably happy right now, and as you pressed the glasses further up, he wished it would never end.

“Is it…” you were quiet, “better like this?”

“Much better,” he assured confidently, looking into your eyes intently.

Every time you blinked, wherever you glanced, he kept his cool and tried holding his fear in check — what if you suddenly pushed him away, became uneasy, or regretted this?

Yet your eyes fixed on his as your hand returned gently to the side of his neck, “You said… you’re curious about more?”

He couldn’t breathe, “Yes.”

“What… does that mean?”

Your voice was a thread and he swore he became dizzy, “You. I—” His lips twitched as he found words, “I want to be with you.”

He settled on that simple fact and shushed his racing heart. It was too soon to confess how long he had been thinking about this, how far he had fallen, and how deeply sure he was that there was no one else he wanted. Nowhere else he wanted to go, no other person who could be home, no other soul he wanted to share his time with. Shit, this was not the time for a love confession.

“Not in the dark,” you mused, thinking back. “But here,” you searched his eyes with a light line between your eyebrows. “Do you want that? To be… a moment of—”

“No,” he interrupted firmly, making sure that every point you touched each other conveyed that. “I want more than a moment, than one night, than a place, than— No,” he breathed. “I want so much more.”

You weren’t sure there was any reaction you could have given because you were floating again. His arms were around you, his mouth speaking words you had long wished to hear, and you waited. It felt like the right thing to do; you just waited for him to become so much more.

“And you?” He asked after waiting to hear your thoughts. “Where would you take this?”

You almost choked with your instant answer, “All the way.”

His eyebrows jumped before his expression scrunched into a rapturous smile, and you filled your chest with air. You needed it, you needed a big deep breath before the dive. When his forehead touched yours, you stayed close, eyes half-hooding, waiting, and ready. You had been ready for a while, all there was left to do now was fly.

You were waiting for his kiss when he grabbed your head, both of you eager and gentle in your grip on the other. His lips were as soft as before but now he was pressing harder, searching for something in the depths of your kiss, and you met him halfway. There was the passion you had thought of before, making your skin pucker as your breathing dragged. It was curious how you were so focused on every little detail of his — his jawline moving under your fingertips, the soft skin at the column of his neck, his wide shoulders where your arms found support to press him closer to you — but had no actual thoughts. Every brush of his lips had you sinking further, every lick of his tongue had you immersed until his hands were pulling you to him and barely letting you touch the ground.

When your feet did touch the ground you lost your balance a little and inadvertently fell into him, which had him feeling behind him to make sure he could sit down. Your lips parted and he looked up at you, hands supportive but not pressuring you. He waited for you to decide if you’d follow him or not, and you didn’t hesitate. You raised a knee to his outer thigh and he instantly supported it, helping you to straddle him effortlessly before he leaned back into the reading chair.

You towered over him a little bit and as he hugged you close, you couldn’t help remembering how many times you had sat in that same chair just to read. Now he was there with you, under you, kissing your neck gently, and you kissed his head with the excitement bubbling under your skin. This was really happening, you could barely contain yourself.

He pressed you to sit closer to him and you guided him to look up just so you could dive into his kiss again. His skin was so soft, his touch so gentle as he let you steer your mouths until your head started spinning. You went deeper with every kiss, and with every sparkle, you became daring. Your fingers laced around his hair, your breaths one and the same as your hips moved on their own accord to fuse you two into one in any way possible. Your instinct was taking over, regardless of how you ground against him or leaned into him as if it would merge you two together.

You were hot and breathless when you felt a hint of his fingertips brushing the skin at your lower back, and instinctively you pulled back. He looked up at you, instantly wary of mistakenly crossing a line, but in a rustle of clothes, your blouse went up and away, thrown on the floor.

You faced him then, the goosebumps forming on your skin wherever his fingertips brushed your back as you seemed to exude heat. Not even for a moment did you wonder if you were going too far, despite being in a bra only in front of him. Rather you eyed his shirt and pouted, and he got it; in a second it was gone too.

Your lips twitched as you stroked down his neck, over his clavicles, and to his wide shoulders. You knew he’d be perfect, you knew you’d go well beyond liking every inch of him, but reality was far sweeter than your imagination. Before you could lean in and kiss every inch, he beat you to it. His pillowy lips grazed over the expanse of your neck before lowering down your chest and you sank your nails on his shoulders. It was the lightness of his touch, the warmth of his breath contrasting with his tongue as he explored everything until he dared lower. He moved slowly, maybe hesitated, and your hand darting to the back of his head to support him eased him.

He kissed and nuzzled every inch of your chest then settled over your sternum, breathing you in between your breasts just above the center gore. You knew why he stopped, but you were riding the shivers and throbs his every breath drew out of you, and you didn’t want it to stop. You reached behind you and unclasped the bra, letting the straps slide off your arms while you held his gaze. Yes, you wanted to do this. Yes, you wanted him to touch you, to know how he—

His hands over your waist raised to cup your breasts and rub your nipples and you shivered, goosebumps covering you from head to toe. The more he brushed over the hardened tips, the less control you had over a deep whine wanting to escape your lips.

You were biting your lip in this sweet struggle when he glanced up at you before leaning in to take one inside his mouth, and you whined. Your hips bucked over him, drawing closer while your cries grew and expanded with every lick of his tongue. You were grinding hard on him now, unaware of how unruly you were being. Your cries just needed to be heard, your hunger satiated as you searched for friction and wondered why it wasn’t as intense as it should be.

Your chest was wet by the time he parted his mouth from the delicate skin, but you didn’t have time to think about it. His hands gripped your hips to press you closer, and you jumped out of his arms in a mix of outrage and eagerness.

So that was why you couldn’t feel him properly, you concluded, as you unbuttoned your jeans. Of course, how stupid. At least it was easily fixed.

You only stopped when your clothes hit the floor. His eyes locked with yours and you hesitated. You were totally naked in your eagerness, maybe you were going too fast. But his hands guiding yours to his shoulders before he leaned in to kiss over your tummy made you realize you were being silly. His eyes were glistening, looking up at you before closing to enjoy the taste of your skin, his cheeks were red, and despite his pants, the tent was very visible.

You wanted to be close so you raised your knee again, and once more he guided you to straddle him. He kissed quickly up your chest before eying your mouth, and you obliged. Kissing him like this was more vulnerable, open, and raw, but you wanted to. His fingertips stroked your sides softly downwards and you sighed into his mouth, gripping him closer. You wanted so much more.

His hands settled atop your hips and it made you whine and wiggle so they would move. It didn’t occur to you to separate your mouths and tell him to touch you; in fact, no thoughts were occurring to you. He seemed to hesitate on where to go while palming your hips, and in the end, it was your hand that guided him to where you wanted him. You froze amidst your kiss, mouth agape as your eyes opened when his fingers skimmed your sex. A shiver ran down your spine, your breath halting as you waited for him. His eyes were set on you, carefully taking in your expression as he dared to brush lower, exploring down your mound, around your hooded clit, and gently over your folds before retracing his steps.

A strangled quiet moan had you closing your eyes to get lost. His fingers were drawing circles over your clit, ever so gently, prodding how to please you without hurting you, and you sank your nails into the back of his neck. You could worship that man now — it was all you knew as you looked at him between half-hooded eyes. Every circle brought a spark, a throb, a buck of your hips until the tension inside you made you jump away from his touch. You kissed him hard then, grabbing his head desperately — you wanted him, not just his hand.

You reached between your bodies to cup his bulge and he choked in your kiss. You pressed harder, too curious to let him breathe or get away, and searched for a way to open his pants, but it was difficult without looking. Fortunately, it understood perfectly what you wanted and got to it.

He raised you off his lap for the single moment it took him to squirm and slide his clothes down his legs before settling you over him again. His skin was burning hot against your inner thighs and as you kissed him, you imagined it was because he wanted you the same way.

You reached again for him and this time there were no barriers. You felt his hard length gently, caressing its soft skin carefully before stroking him against your palm.

He grunted into your cheek; your lips had parted so you could both focus on those new sensations. Something wet was making it easier to stroke him and press the head gently, with every movement earning you something, whether a groan, a sigh, a twitch of his fingers over your hips, or more precum.

You loved seeing and hearing every reaction, but you didn’t want to wait. You were tense and overheating, and that hard cock in your hand belonged somewhere else.

You moved on your knees to straddle him closer, positioning yourself with nothing but the intention to feel him, but you paused. Before the sight of the pink swollen tip at your entrance could steal your logic, you looked at him with an implied question. He nodded with glistening eyes, hands gripping a bit more of your ass to convey just how much he wanted this. And so you leaned to touch your foreheads before you guided him inside you.

You were unbelievably wet but still, it took a moment for him to become coated enough to slide in without any attrition. It felt like a trial and error; every time you tried sitting lower, there was resistance, and so you raised yourself and tried again. And again and again, with his fingers sinking into your skin as he hid his scrunched-up expression. Your eyebrows were knitted too, especially when he hit a particular spot, and soon he bottomed out.

You wiggled a little to make room, your tension gripping him inside you so hard that both of you groaned. You bucked your hips over him and sighed before reaching back, taking support on his hips. The hunger in his glistening eyes as he observed you taking your pleasure from him was like straight out of a dream, except he was really there, stretching you to the edge, bubbling a tension up your spine so good you knew you wouldn’t last a minute.

So you leaned forward again, palming the expanse of his chest as you let the fluttering subside for a bit. A smile bloomed on your lips as he reached to kiss your skin, supporting you closely while he grazed up your neck. Yet as it had blossomed, your smile faded when your eyebrows knitted further and your pleasure sunk in your gut. He had taken a firmer grip of you and used his leverage to thrust his hips up and into you, successfully crumbling whatever excuse of a restraint you had.

You moaned unreservedly and as he pulled away to face you without relenting, you met him with glistening eyes. It wasn’t a betrayal but because of him, you couldn’t hold back. He understood; he told you with a nod as he tried keeping the rhythm steady for you. So you hugged him to you and let the pleasure spike once, twice, until a moan burst out of you with the knot in your lower gut releasing the tension.

However long it lasted, it was long. It left you powerless and radiating heat like a furnace, only he was even hotter than you. He was sweaty under your arms and legs as you embraced him, and it mixed with your wetness and cum, but you didn’t care.

He waited for you to pull away and kiss his humid forehead before he asked, “Can I take you to bed?”

“Yes,” you sighed, still up high in your haze.

He could tell how languid you were so he picked you up carefully, hugging your legs around his waist and supporting your lower back. His heart was racing as he carried you, not because he was afraid of dropping you — no way in hell that would ever happen — but because this was really happening. He was really carrying your naked body across his apartment, your sweaty bodies pressed together after you reached your pleasure in his arms only for him to take you to bed and continue to show you how much he cared for you. He sighted the bed when your limbs squeezed him more firmly and he smiled from ear to ear. It was like carrying a koala bear who didn’t want to let go of him, and he loved that.

He sat on the bed with you on his lap before carefully supporting your back so he could lay you down gently while hovering over you and you finally blinked.

Your senses were coming back; Namjoon was over you, caging you between his biceps while your legs laced around him. He was inside you, and even if you had forgotten, he reminded you when he moved tentatively. Your eyes were set on his, and that was how you saw the concern crossing them, and you blinked again. You and him were connected like you had only ever dreamed, and it was good. You reached to cup his cheeks and guide his mouth to yours; you wanted him to know that. That you knew what you were doing, with whom, and how, and your heart was completely in it.

If he wasn’t kissing your lips, then he was pecking the tip of your nose, grazing your cheeks, or brushing down the column of your neck as his hips gained speed. You raised yours to feel him as deep as possible, and as you held onto him, you let the emotions flood you. The safety of his arms, the completeness as he filled up all the gaps, the nurture of every tender kiss, the shared warmth, tension, and torture of your bodies rocking together. You were meshed inextricably in an ascent that you had never dared to imagine, and you grabbed him even harder, in case the intensity had you floating away.

Your voice had a life of its own; every time he sank further into you, your soul expanded. Every time he buried himself inside you, your moan released into his ear, and over and over again as he hid in your neck, revering you in all the ways he could.

“You feel so good,” he rasped against your throat, and against all odds you heard it in between moans. Maybe because he was slowing down. He pulled away to face you so closely you saw him blurred despite your glasses, “I don't want it to end.”

Your eyes widened and watered but no words came out in time; he pressed your lips sweetly and you buried your fingers in his hair, feeling your heart swelling with every beat. He restarted his hips, guided by your legs pressing him into you, and you thought that nothing else mattered than him knowing. You also didn’t want it to end, you wanted to stay with him forever, linked, safe, accepted, hidden from anything that wasn’t blissful peace, and happiness.

His hips snapping into yours brought groans, moans, and whines out of the both of you, with wet sloppy sounds echoing in the bedroom along with the slaps of skins colliding. It became fast, forcing you to wrap your limbs around him firmly to never miss any sensation he could give you until you tensed unbelievably.

You surrendered to your climax immediately, letting it wash over you as you throbbed and reveled in scream-inducing spasms. He grunted and swore into your neck, but to your surprise, he didn’t come with you. On the contrary, suddenly you could feel his intent to pull out so you crossed your legs behind him and searched for his ear so you could tell him, “Inside me. Stay inside me.”

He groaned and you rocked with him, keen on extending both your pleasure as much as possible when he twitched inside you. You closed your eyes and his lips immediately caught yours. He kissed you with every peak, groaning into your mouth at every turn, making you shudder.

He stilled and you kept petting his damp hair at the back of his head, slowly waiting for both your hearts to calm down. You couldn’t believe what just happened yet at the same time it felt as natural as breathing.

Finally, he moved from the crook of your neck and faced you. A single drop of sweat dripped along his nose to the tip and you caught it with your fingertip. He nuzzled you then, recovering his breath with a tender smile, and you smiled back.

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luvyurself · 3 months

Text

all winds blow away, eventually

he deserves a happy ending :(

c/w: she/her pronouns, pure platonic fluff, we basically adopted him, he still calls us angel, cartoon version, HES OUR BABY AUGHHHH

(I’ll prolly make one with the bigger bodies dogday because HE DESERVES TO SURVIVE WITH US)

_______

her stirred in her sleep, groaning softly as the worlds sounds began to flow through her ears. the quiet sound of her home mixed in with the outside noise of wind.

she peeked an eye open, looking at her clock on the side of her bed. it was two in the morning, still six more hours of sleep to go.

she blinks at the wind outside, slightly hitting the houses foundation. the creeks of the house filled the empty space with an ominous sound, though nothing to worry about.

sighing softly, she started to get comfortable in the darkness, turning over to her side and closing her eyes to go back to bed.

the wind served as a great white noise, as she felt her eyes grow heavy and about to drift off to sleep-

“angel?”

she flinched, eyes blinking open and looking over to who called her.

the little dog stood by her bedside, slightly shaking with his blanket wrapped around himself. he looked at her, the usual smile was replaced with a shaky frown and frightened expression.

she rubbed her eyes softly, “dogday? honey what’s wrong?” she sleepily mumbled, propping herself up to look at him.

it took awhile for him to speak, with a soft stutter he managed to whisper, “the-the wind…”

she hummed softly, “I know, I just heard it,” she then shifted to a sitting position, “honey, remember how we said that the wind won’t hurt us inside?”

the orange dog laughed shakily, gripping his blanket tightly, “I know….its just….the nightlight in my room went out…” he drew a shaky breath, looked like he was near crying, “I….got scared”

she felt her heart break into a million pieces, watching him shake makes her sad with him. she reached over to her lamp, trying to turn it on, only to sigh when it wouldn’t turn on.

“powers out,” she mumbled, she then turned to him and reached out her arms, “here hun, you can sleep with me,”

she couldn’t see his tail, but she could just picture it wagging when she said that. he ran to her arms, smiling as she placed him down next to him, “thank you, angel”

a soft laugh, laying down next to him as she covered them both with her blankets, “it’ll all blow away eventually, honey, the wind won’t get us”

she felt him wrap his little paws around her, placing his head underneath her chin. she felt his wet nose tickling her neck as he whispered, “can you sing a lullaby for me?”

she groaned playfully, “come on dogday, I don’t think I can sing as good half asleep” she looked down at him, meeting his white iris as he shakily smiled, “I don’t mind, I think it would help me fall asleep more,”

after a moment of thinking, she sighed softly and wrapped his arms around his little body like she was cuddling a teddy bear. “alright hon, alright,” she sleepily spoke, humming a lullaby before softly singing a random lullaby on the top of her head.

she felt his little body become less shaky, less tense, as a over a short period of time he fell asleep. little yips and leg twitches here and there but he was asleep.

softly petting his head, she blinks a few times before feeling her eyes become heavy and whispering softly, “goodnight dogday, I’ll be here in the morning…”

AUGHHHHHH HES MY BABBYYYYY

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #dogday poppy playtime #platonic #x female reader #x reader #dogday

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luveline · 2 years

Note

I’m dying for you to write something along the lines of Eddie planning a date w you and the sitter falling through so you have to have dinner at his house w Roan🥺 can’t wait to see both of their reactions to how pretty you look all dressed up for the date!!!!

omggg | dad!eddie x fem!reader

Eddie's a picture of defeat, dressed up and braced over the countertop. He knows the sitter isn't coming. Not ten minutes after she was supposed to, not twenty.

The phone rings. He picks it up. "Yep? Yeah. Yeah. I figured. Okay. Yep."

He's not being fair — the babysitter is a young girl a couple of trailers down. She's no professional but Roan knows her, and Eddie knows her. She'd been a sure bet.

Eddie's never gonna find another sitter tonight.

He keeps the phone in his hand and rubs his eyes, stressed beyond words. How is he ever gonna ask you to be his girlfriend when things like this keep happening?

Roan comes to stand at his feet. She's in pyjamas with her hair down, her baby curls straighter with the weight as it grows. He drops a hand on top of her head and follows it down. "What do you want?" he asks. Not unkind, but suspicious.

She buries her face in his legs. "Nothing."

He hums, non-believing. Her hands grasp at the sides of his thighs and she sighs. Eddie knows that she knows he was going somewhere without her and that this is her attempt at a guilt trip. It's kind of working.

He puts your number into the phone and holds the receiver against his ear, one hand safe and sound at Roan's small back. He's lucky you pick up, lucky you aren't just about leaving.

"She can't make it?" you ask after he relays his problem.

"No... Wayne's too spent to have her, or he would've."

"Well, maybe I could come over?"

His relief is palpable. "We'll get takeout?"

"I'll grab some on the way. What does Roan get from The Three Dragons?"

Eddie takes your willingness to change plans as extremely encouraging and hangs up with a smile. He'd already cleaned for the sitter, so there's nothing to do but throw Roan over his shoulder and listen to her squealing laughter while they wait for you to join them. He dangles her upside down and right way up, messes with her until she's begging to be released, and when he pulls her back up she clings to him. Works everytime.

He takes his stolen cuddle with no guilt and flops down on the couch. If he wants to put her in some extremely not real danger to milk her affection, he's gonna do it shamlessly.

She sits with her legs across his lap and her cheek to his chest, talking for a while with a nervous kind of whine to her voice. "Don't want you to go," she mumbles eventually, arms around his waist.

He clocks it. She doesn't realise he's staying for good. She doesn't have a clue you're on your way. Her night just went from bad to amazing.

"You really don't want me to go?" Eddie asks quietly, stroking an inky dark curl from her face.

Roan pouts and nuzzles into his black dress shirt. "No," she whines.

"Maybe I'll stay, then. Would that be okay?"

She whizzes to life, blinking at him quickfire and smiling so nicely he wants to take a photograph. "Yes, stay here," she says. Her voice is wobbly.

He accepts her climbing, feet digging into his thighs as she stands on him to wrap her arms around his neck, curls and all. He chuckles and pats her back, the brushed cotton of her comfy clothes soft under his hand.

"Baby, that's not even the best part."

Roan takes a second to digest this. She thinks about what he's saying, he can near see the cogs turning behind her eyes.

"We can have chocolate?" she asks.

"Better. We can have Y/N."

Cue your knocking at the door. Roan springs away from him like you might catch her cuddling up to him and discover she likes him, hands flying from his chest. She almost falls on her face as she slides down his leg and races across the room. Peculiarly, she waits at the closed door for him in silence, though her pert nose wrinkles with what can only be called the world's cutest pout.

Eddie follows behind her. He holds a hand to her shoulder to stop her from walking into the door as he opens it with a thin metal clatter. The two of them are shocked to silence at your unveiling.

You're perfect. Eddie really thinks you're perfect. Your hair looks beautiful, your face practically glows. You smile like you always do, unapologetically happy with that touch of awkwardness. He finds it adorable that you'd be unsure of yourself even now.

"You'll never guess what they had at The Three Dragons," you say, holding up the bulging white plastic bag where it dangles from your fingers.

"Y/N," Roan says happily, a huge smile on her tiny face.

You drop your dramatics and beam at her. "Hi, baby. Don't you just look snug as a bug?"

Eddie takes the takeout and your purse on automatic, knowing what's gonna happen before it does. As he predicted, Roan throws herself at you and expects to be picked up immediately. You've yet to deny her anything, swinging her up to your chest with little care for your nice dress.

"They're my jammies," she informs you, spreading her arms so you can see the flowers adorning her chest.

"They're so pretty." Eddie watches your hand smooth up her back lovingly, your fingernails trailing gently over Roan's shoulder blade as you walk a ways into the living room, managing to close the door behind you with a well-aimed kick. "Fit for a princess."

You wink at Eddie, as if to say Yeah, I'm getting good at this.

"You look pretty," Roan says.

Eddie melts. You melt worse, your exuberant smile softening.

"Can I give you a kiss?" you ask her.

Roan turns her face to brandish her cheek at you. You look over her head to check Eddie's face. He holds up his hands, your bags sliding down his arms. "Kiss away."

You press a sweet, small kiss into her cheek. "Thank you," you say, forehead pressed to her dark curls. "I'm not as pretty as you, Ro, but I tried. Wanted to look nice for your daddy."

"He thinks you look killer," Eddie says.

You smile but don't lift your face, hand rubbing a gentle pattern over Roan's back still. "He doesn't look half bad himself."

You dot another quick kiss to Roan's cheek and pull up to meet his eyes. "Can you pass me the box from the bag, please?"

Eddie digs it out and hands it to you. "I'll go plate up, should I?" He needs a second to get over how pretty you look. Recalibrate. Become his cooler, cockier self, the kind of guy that might actually have a chance with a girl like you.

"Yes, please."

Eddie moves to the kitchen, sneaking glances at you every now and then where you've moved to the couch. You sit with Roan on one thigh, the skirt of your dress split and showing a fascinating length of naked leg. He shakes his head at his own behaviour and turns back to the food, dipping the tip of his finger into Roan's sauce to make sure it's not too hot.

"All the princesses have these," you say.

Roan sighs in wonder.

Eddie licks his finger clean and returns to spying on you both, curious. Roan's got either side of a hand fan in her grips, eyes wide as she takes in the painted flowers decorating its fabric.

"You can cover your face with it, or you can just use it to cool down." You take it from her carefully. "Like this," you say, waving it at her.

Her eyes close. Puffs of air blow the hair from her face.

"Does that feel nice?" you ask, bubbly.

Roan giggles.

I'm fucked, Eddie thinks, watching your lips quirk into an uneven, enamoured smile. I'm totally fucked.

more eddie and roan

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star-girl69 · 3 months

Text

Cowboy Like Me

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader

—-

Part One - The Last Time

Part Two - Cowboy Like Me

Part Three - Tomorrow Never Came (coming soon!)

Part Four - Living Legend (coming soon!)

Part Five - Pretty When You Cry (coming soon!)

—-

synopsis: 15 years later, you’re still climbing into clarisse’s arms and knowing she’s gonna leave.

a/n: personally i love life but idk about y’all and creds to @nvirskies for helping me w bits of this 🫶

Cowboy Like Me - Taylor Swift

warnings: y’all already know what’s happening

—-

“And I… I’m scared.”

You hum, adjusting yourself in your seat so your heart doesn’t break.

“It’s okay to be scared. I’m scared all the time.”

Jane is one of the sweetest kids you’ve ever met since becoming the Camp Half-Blood therapist thing. After your traumatizing years, watching Clarisse come and go, years spent in her bed- you found yourself wanting to tell someone.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to feel safe, especially when she was gone.

You wanted to tell someone that you hated Clarisse La Rue’s guts and also you loved her so much you weren’t sure if you could ever get over her.

So, you became that person.

“You’re allowed to be scared, though,” Jane continues. “I can’t. I’m a daughter of Ares, Y/N. If he sniffs out weakness then he’ll never love me.”

Your conversations with Jane have by far been the hardest sessions you’ve ever had. They remind you so much of what you went through 15 years ago. Of what you watched her go through.

“And you’re human, Jane. To fear is to be human. You’ll always be part human, the same way you are part god. That’s what being a demigod is,” you smile.

“It’s just… human?” she says, nose scrunching.

“All of the emotions you feel, the ones you hate, the ones that distract you- those are the ones that come from your mortal parent. Ares cannot take those away, no matter how hard he tries.”

You let the kids spread around the rumors that this room is magical and soundproof. In reality, the Gods just don’t care enough to listen.

—-

It took a long time to get Chiron and Mr. D to see the benefits of having an actual licensed therapist at Camp. They were hesitant, but you insisted, so they gave you a one month trial. It took even longer to get someone to actually come talk to you, but after Jane blew up on one of her siblings and hurt them, she came to you.

She came to you crying, saying she hated being like this, she hated being so explosive. And it was slow, but you helped her, and now she has coping mechanisms and now the entirety of the Ares cabin and a good portion of the camp scrambles for appointments with you.

Jane always comes at 6:30 on Fridays. She eats her dinner quick and runs across camp to your office at the Big House. Sometimes she cries, sometimes she squeezes a stress ball so hard she might actually crush it, but she always talks. She always opens herself up, she learns and she grows.

After that hour, you turn around and lay in your bed, and you think about Clarisse.

You think about when she comes back, you’re not so cold anymore but your heart is frozen over. You cry, she asks you not to cry, not when she’s here. She did the impossible, she survived.

But you see it in her eyes. The thrill. She will do it again and again for him and you will be left there.

And as much as your aching heart tells you to forget about her- she’s yours. You’re hers.

She calls you baby and pretty girl even though years of stress has caused crows lines around your eyes. You are still trapped with her, like some sort of wretched mirror- except you’re gazing into another world where you’re both still young. Where you’re both still happy. Where she didn’t leave.

You think about that alternate reality a lot.

You think about it tonight.

You come to your room and you lay on your cold bed, wrap an arm around your waist and imagine the pillow under your head is her chest. It’s embarrassing. It’s embarrassing to love her so much that you pretend she’s still here. It’s embarrassing that you pretend you have all the answers- the campers look up at you like you do have all the answers, but you really don’t. You know absolutely nothing. But you’re good at pretending.

The first time she visited camp she came to your room, cockily leaned against the door, and said something about how she had to meet the woman all of her younger siblings were gushing about. That night ended with her crying softly against your chest while you ran your hands through her hair.

And before, you went to colleges only an hour away from each other. When you were stressing about exams, when you got a bad grade, when the nights were cold and you missed her- you drove an hour and knocked on her door, and she let you in, into her bed, into her arms. She didn’t have let you into her heart, because you were always there.

When her roommate left for a few days for a family emergency, she asked her friends to take notes for her and drove to you. She stammered when you opened the door, tried to explain that she just couldn’t be alone, not anymore, not without you- and so she spent the next few days waiting in your room while you were at classes. You would sit in her lap while you did your homework, or she would just stand behind you at your desk and play with your hair. And you would spend your nights in her arms.

The second time she visited camp she didn’t say anything when she knocked on your door, and you just let her in. You spent the night laughing and reminiscing until you cried and she smiled sadly and asked you not to, and you tried for her, but you couldn’t. How can she expect you not to cry when she’s the one making you cry? When she’s cried herself over what happened between you?

The third, fourth, fifth, all the times she came to camp she would come to your door and sometimes you would cry, sometimes she would cry- sometimes you both would cry. Because how cruel is it to be held by the woman you love and know it’s not the girl you love? How cruel is it to know change?

—-

It’s not that you choose to love Clarisse. If you could choose, you wouldn’t love her. You would forget all about her. You dream about falling and hitting your head, waking up with a blank slate that’s untainted by her.

You don’t choose to love Clarisse.

Your skin doesn’t love her, not anymore- your cells replace every few weeks. And it’s been 2 months since she last came to camp. It’s your bones that love her. It’s something fundamental inside of you. Loving her is like moving- it takes so many little nerves and neurons to make it work- but it feels like nothing to you. Your bones love Clarisse.

And your bones surround your heart, and they trick you into loving her.

Every time she comes back you’re shocked by the way she isn’t her younger self. She’s older, there’s lines on her face, and she cut her hair a few inches shorter a few years ago. She carries herself different, partly because she’s grown and she’s learned to appreciate life a little more- she walks softer. And almost because you know she hurt her hip years ago, and you’ve spent nights kissing it and saying that she’ll be fine if she just gives it a little longer to heal.

You like to think that the reason she’s still able to go on quests and do everything she does is because of your healing touch.

But you see it sometimes, the way she walks softer, especially now after a long day. Its not that it hurts her, she’s just scared of putting a bit too much pressure on it so it does hurt her.

You watch her from the window. Smaller kids run past her, she’s listening absentmindedly to Abby James, the current counselor of the Ares cabin.

You giggle as she puts her hand on Abby’s shoulder and firmly says goodbye, pushing her off into the other direction- Abby is probably the most social Ares kid you’ve ever met. She’s a chatterbox, not in a bad or mean way, just a fact. Her long black hair swishes behind her as she turns, crossing her arms, and you’re sure you’ll be hearing about it in your next session.

You move back to the small couch- right by the door of your room. You sit there like you’re not expecting her, and you wait until you hear her footsteps up the stares to fix your hair and breathe in and out slowly.

She knocks.

“Come in,” you say, throwing your feet onto the coffee table and picking up a book about the history of psychology.

“Y/N,” she says. The door shuts behind her, she leans back against it.

“Hi, Clarisse,” you say, reduced to a child now that she’s in your presence. Now that you can look at her and see that she’s not her. “How are you?”

She snorts, walking past you and sitting in the armchair you sit in for your sessions.

“I don’t wanna play that shit tonight.”

“Hospitality?”

“Whatever you wanna call it,” she smiles, her feet touching yours on the coffee table. You feel a little breathless. You close the book, you weren’t even reading it, throwing it onto the coffee table.

She stares into your eyes.

“How have you been?”

You roll your eyes, but that just makes the tears more prominent.

“How is that any different?”

“‘Cause it’s you. ‘Cause I like hearing your voice.”

She leans back in the chair and gestures to you, so you cross your legs and sit up. You bite back the tears like a hyena with a fake laugh.

“Uh, I don’t know. The usual. All of my sessions are going good, not that I can really tell you. Why don’t I turn on some music?”

“Sure,” she says, leaning her face into her hands.

You walk past her and towards the bookshelf on the opposite wall, body screaming at the way your bare legs brush against her clothed knee.

It’s an old record player, somehow making the cut as not electronic enough to attract anything bad.

You don’t bother checking what you were last listening to. You just put the needle at the start of a song and hear the organs, the grand piano.

“I like this guy,” Clarisse says.

“Jeff Buckley,” you chuckle, smoothing down your camp t-shirt, adjusting your pajama shorts.

Looking out the door I see the rain // Fall upon the funeral mourners

You stand there for a moment longer, pretending to adjust your bookshelf, because you know you’ll start crying when you turn around and look at her.

So I’ll wait for you, love // And I’ll burn // Will I ever see your sweet return? // Oh, will I ever learn?

“Come back,” she says. She was just watching you avoid her. You could feel her eyes on you. You stiffen. “Please,” she adds, softly.

“It’s embarrassing,” you mutter, wiping the tears away.

“I’m just as embarrassing then, seeing how many times I’ve cried in this room. We cancel each other out.” You don’t turn, you can’t do it, you can’t let her see how much this effects you. “I don’t like it when you cry. Please, Y/N, come back.”

You take a deep breath and turn around, wanting to walk past her again, curious to see if she’ll reach out and pull you into the chair with her.

But she doesn’t get the chance too, because your eyes are blinded by tears, and the place where the rug curls up is always making you stumble. Except on days when she’s here, you’re so drained of everything, so you trip completely.

Your knees slam against the hardwood floor, Clarisse tries her best to catch you, but she was a foot too far to reach you- even with her fast reflexes.

And now you’re on your knees in front of her, crying even louder with burning knees.

“Y/N,” she breathes, and you drag yourself towards her, sobbing like a baby until you’re at her feet, resting your head in her lap. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s fine. I trip all the time.” You both know you’re not crying about that.

You press your face into the space between her leg and the cushion to muffle your loud cries.

You grab her legs, feral, nails digging through her cargo pants- but you don’t even reach skin.

“I love you so much, Clarisse,” you sob. “I love you. Don’t leave me tonight. Don’t leave me.”

She breathes out, it’s silent and you bite your tongue.

“I’ll stay tonight,” she says. “I was always gonna stay tonight, you don’t have to ask, baby.”

“Say you love me,” you whisper. “Say it, please.”

“I love you,” she says, her lips in your hair. “Of course I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

There is a certain desperation with demigod relationships. And you feel it now, you feel the desperate hands and the yearning hearts as you cry at her feet. And you feel your knees burn as you kneel before her. You listen to Jeff Buckley croon about love gone while you cry at her feet.

You can’t be embarrassed in this moment. Part of you feels like this is all just Clarisse’s problem, for being so beautiful you still love her, for leaving you and never putting you first. She has to hold you and fix you, she has to deal with the wet pant leg full of your tears. But really, you just want her to hold you. You just want to pretend she never left in the first place.

It’s never over // She is the tear that hangs inside my soul forever

—-

“Are you hungry?” you ask when you finally let go of her, pushing her away as you wipe your wet face.

She studies you for a moment.

“Yeah,” she says, honestly. “What’cha got?”

You reach under the coffee table for the box of snacks you always keep incase someone gets hungry during a session. You’ve both moved to the couch for more space, Jeff Buckley is still going in the background- you’ll have to get up and flip it over soon, or put on something else.

She rifles through the bags of mortal snacks until she finds a bag of salt and vinegar chips.

“Thanks, baby,” she mutters, tearing into the bag. You lean against the couch and just watch her. It could be like this all the time. If she would just stay.

She tries to feed you one, but for some reason that feels too intimate and you shake your head. She shrugs and eats it, even though it was pressed up against your lips a second ago.

That’s the one thing you don’t do. You kiss each other everywhere, except for the lips. You touch her everywhere, except for her lips.

You cry in her arms and she kisses your head, she runs her hands down your body but doesn’t kiss you.

And you’re scared of it. You’re scared of kissing her. You still feel like you can leave, even after all the nights together, if you just don’t kiss her.

She gestures to the curtain that separates your bedroom from where you see campers. “I like the new curtain. Flowers,” she says.

You rake your eyes over the carefully crocheted patterns, pink and blue and yellow, purple and green and red, all turned into pretty flowers.

“A few kids from the Demeter cabin made it for me,” you smile, thinking of how proud they had been to give it to you. “It’s so beautiful.”

“It is,” Clarisse says, but she’s not looking at the curtain anymore. “Jane was talking about you all day,” she says after a moment. “She really loves you.”

“I love her. If she hadn’t come to me, then no one else would have, and I probably would have gotten thrown out. I don’t even know where I would have gone.”

“You could’ve come to me. You can always come to me.”

You have her address pinned to a bulletin board next to your bed.

“Yeah,” you mumble, playing with a loose thread on the back of the couch. “She reminds me a lot of you, you know.”

“Really?” she chuckles. “How?”

“I can’t tell you, silly. Doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“Well, you said she’s like me. So just tell me what I’m like.”

“Okay,” you mumble, thinking over every moment you’ve spent with Clarisse, every session with Jane. “Well, you have very big emotions. It’s hard for you to control them. But, you never really feel them. You never get to the root of the problem. So, when something actually happens, all you know how to do is recognize that you’re angry. You can’t figure out why.”

“You’re good at this shit,” she mumbles. You laugh.

“Hm, you forget that being a demigod means you’re half human, too. And you’re very loyal. You’re loyal to the wrong people, sometimes.”

She crunches up the empty bag of chips and drops it onto the coffee table.

“Don’t do that,” she says.

“Do what?”

She rubs her socks against your knees. “I jus’ wanna be here with you, right now. Don’t say anything else.”

“You asked me about Jane.” You scoff and she glares at you, but her feet are still touching you, and you sigh. “I’m sorry. I jus’ wanna be here with you, too.”

She stares at you for a long moment, unblinking. When she finally looks away, she’s rubbing tears out of her eyes. You move to sit on your knees, leaning towards her.

“Clar, don’t cry,” you say. “What happened?”

You take her face in your hands, so she can’t wipe away the tears. Staring into your eyes, she’s forced to let them fall. She puts her hands on your waist.

“Sometimes I jus’ think about how you’ll never forgive me.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

“Let’s not talk about that right now, Clar. C’mon.”

“Is this room soundproof?” she asks, suddenly. You frown at first, not knowing what that has to do with anything- but then you remember.

You let the kids assume it’s soundproof in your early sessions. But eventually, when they ask, you tell them the truth. You tell them it’s not.

And when they get scared and ask if their godly parents will hear them- you put your hand on their arm and say no. No, they won’t hear you. It’s not that they can’t, it’s that they won’t. They won’t care.

“No. It’s not.”

She shakes her head and laughs.

“So, what? You just sit here and tell these kids that their parents don’t love them?”

“Because they don’t. A God’s love is not a human’s love, Clarisse, why-why dont you get it? It’s different. It’s just different. It’s not necessarily bad, it’s just not what these kids need.”

“You make them think that their parents don’t care about them.”

“Because they don’t! Fuck. They don’t, okay!”

She stares at you for a long time after your outburst.

“What is wrong with you?” she mutters, not necessarily mean but more genuinely curious. She truly believes your wrong in your hatred of the Gods.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me? I spend my entire day helping kids. I spent my entire day handing them tissues, hugging them, teaching them coping skills. I have devoted my entire life to making sure no one ever felt how I felt. How am I the bad guy for helping them place the blame on who it really should be placed?”

“How you felt?”

You shuffle, sitting up taller.

“Yes, how I felt. How I feel. You don’t know what it was like for me, Clarisse. You don’t know what it was like to sleep without you and know that you were probably gone-”

“What the hell do you think I did every night of that quest?”

“But I didn’t leave you, Clarisse! I didn’t leave you. I have been waiting for you for years. You are the one who leaves me over and over again. And you- you have someone. I have no one, except for you. No one.”

Clarisse has a father. She has someone to blame, if she chose. She has someone to pray to, to cry to, to guide her.

What do you have? The unclaimed daughter of no one? The only person you belong to is Clarisse. And here she is, staring at you like you disgust her.

The anger falls away, because at your core you’re still a lonely 16 year old who needs her to come back, who needs to be claimed, who needs to be loved.

You’re a licensed psychologist. You know that you have deep, deep abandonment issues. You know that Clarisse is at the root of them. But the part of you that’s just a girl, your bones that will always love her, she’s everything to you. She’s all you have.

“Please don’t make us fight,” you cry, hands pressed to your cheeks. “You’re making me cry, Clarisse. Don’t make me cry.”

You watch her change entirely. It goes from the woman who can’t understand you to the girl who knows only you.

“I hate it when you cry,” she says, softly, a gateway back into her arms.

You throw yourself against her, trying your best not to cry for her, but you fail. Her lips are in your hair, your head against her chest. She smooths down your hair and begs you not to cry. Because for some reason, this feels like too much. For some reason, this hurts her the most.

Clarisse is self destructive just like you.

She helps you to your bed. She touches the flower curtain as you walk past.

Clarisse knows she’s hurting you and she knows you’re hurting her. You know you’re hurting her and you know she’s hurting you.

She takes off her uncomfortable clothes and slips under the blanket with you.

Clarisse loves you the same way you love her. Not by choice, but by nostalgia, by hope. She loves you because of what might be. You love her the same way. You both hope that one day it’ll all work out.

She tucks the blanket around you and cups your face. She tells you she’s sorry and whispers “I love you” one more time. You put your hand on her hip, the other pressing against your chest. You say you love her too. You say you love her so much you’re reduced to this less-than thing in her presence.

Clarisse doesn’t understand you. You don’t understand her. She’s nobody’s son, and you’re nobody’s daughter. You try to go about your day without her but you think about her on you so much.

It’s hard to do well on these nights when you know she’s gonna leave you. So you cry, you pretend, you relish this one night in her arms.

“I promise I don’t mean to hurt you,” she whispers. “I don’t. I love you so much. I want you to be happy, but I can’t let you go.” She traces her nose along your jawline. “I can’t let you be happy away from me.”

And it sounds so horrible and cruel, but the way she hurts you is so beautiful you can’t be bothered. She only hurts you because of love. Because she loves you, because she loves her father.

“I know,” you breathe. “I know everything. I don’t mean to hurt you either, I know exactly how you feel.”

A single tear falls down her face. “I can’t help but hurt you. I can’t help but let you hurt me.”

“I know, Clarisse,” you mutter. You press your lips to her cheek and swallow the salty tear falling down her face. “It feels so good, I know.”

Clarisse is a sadist like you. Clarisse is a masochist like you.

Clarisse is addicted to the pain just like you.

—-

me when i’m in an toxic and cosmically doomed relationship contest and my opponents are clarisse and y/n: 😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱

let me know if you cried in the comments below! 😘

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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fairlyang · 3 months

Text

Let you break my heart again II🕷️

will your friendship be strong enough or will it be easy to crack through?

w/c: 2.9K

pairing: miguel o’hara x f!reader

tags: angst, more heartbreak, no more playboy, typical girl best friend problems, crazy gf, cheating allegations, betrayal, heartbreak, the end

notes: I dragged a lil ass I wanted it done the next day but writer brain </3 FINAL PART !!!!! (My original idea was for mig to only admit his feelings to reader after she got gwen stacy’ed)

part one

Months had passed and this girlfriend actually stuck around. He didn’t get rid of her and he somehow didn’t grow bored of her like he had with the others.

The worst part had to be when they made the three month point and he decided it was finally time for her to meet you.

That day your nerves had grown and you weren’t so sure you’d be able to do it. To pull through and not just burst out crying when you watch as he looks at her with pure love in his eyes.

It looked like his playboy days were over and he was finally ready for a solid relationship.

You barely made it through the night and if it weren’t for Peter’s hugs and MJ’s comforting words when Dana went to touch up her makeup and Miguel went to go change clothes, you would’ve been an absolute goner.

It was getting late and Peter offered to take you home to which you immediately accepted. Miguel then offered to take you after dropping Dana off but you politely declined.

Especially after seeing how wide her eyes got and she was (not so) subtly glaring at you.

Usually girlfriends would hate the girl best friend just because they’re a girl, but in this case Dana is a smart girl, and she had an instant inkling of your feelings towards him.

Even though you’ve remained respectful like you always have been when meeting his girlfriends, she didn’t like that Miguel had a girl best friend.

She kept her mouth shut and pretended she was fine but slowly piecing things together in her head.

So after saying your goodbyes and leaving Miguel’s apartment it didn’t take long for you to break down in the backseat of Peter’s car with an empathetic MJ trying to console you.

It only grew more difficult to hide your true feelings. Especially because Miguel would now bring Dana to group hangouts. Which makes some sense, even though Peter and MJ were just friends when you met them, then grew feelings for one another.

Alas you had no choice but to suck it up.

Three more months passed by and your love for him never faded. He didn’t even treat you that differently either which did end up causing some trouble for him from Dana. She apparently didn’t like how close you guys were, even if you did know each other since you were 14.

She claimed she should be his only best friend and what else could he really ask for.

He told her that you’d always be his best friend and he wasn’t going to toss you out just because she wants to be his only best friend. He can have multiple best friends.

How could he throw away an 8 year long friendship?

He then called her crazy for thinking she can control who he’s friends with.

So she recalled his words right back to him when she randomly ended up befriending his younger half-brother, Gabriel, merrily weeks after that argument.

Miguel wouldn’t ever tell you the specifics of the argument, mainly because in a sense he wanted to protect you. He didn’t want you to feel bad that his girlfriend didn’t like you, (as if you didn’t already know) and that she wanted him to drop you.

So when hanging out just as a pair he’d only tell you he was frustrated with her. He told you that she had befriended Gabriel and you only saw red flags but kept quiet.

You tried to remain cautious of what you’d say when he’d come to you about relationship problems. Obviously deep down you want to tell him to break up with her because she’s toxic and controlling but it wasn’t the best idea as the supposed girl best friend that “isn’t” in love with her best friend.

So you told him to maybe spend less time with you, mostly because you genuinely couldn’t think of an actual suitable solution.

But it didn’t matter because ultimately he denied that idea quickly and looked deeply in your eyes promising you, “you’ll always be my best friend. Nothing’s going to change that.”

If only he knew and kept to his promise.

It was now two months after that conversation was had and a whirlwind of actions, words, and lies would turn everything around.

You went to eat some lunch at a cafe outside of campus when your phone died on the way back. You were fine without relying on your phone and just thought you’d charge it during your next lecture on your laptop.

As you finally hit campus and walked past different students sitting around the grass and benches, your eyes focused on a familiar head with its brown bob.

You sigh and felt your heart ache as you walked past Dana eating Miguel’s face out in public like that.

Until you took a double take and dread hit you after realizing it wasn’t Miguel she was making out with. It was fucking Gabriel.

You couldn’t believe she was just openly cheating on Miguel like it was nothing.

You stood a couple feet from them and you couldn’t believe this was real. You blinked, rubbed your eyes, and blinked again but sure enough it was the younger O’Hara brother with a red scarf and those goofy ass (but recognizable) goggles.

You gulped and took your phone out only for the screen to show that it was dead.

You mentally panicked and were afraid they’d catch you so you quickly ran inside and immediately headed straight to your lecture hall.

The klutz in you unfortunately never went away so you nearly fell as soon as you accidentally hit a body after making a turn.

Horror filled your eyes and body as Miguel held onto your shoulders, trying to see what was wrong.

Your eyes were wide and your heart was racing wildly, you couldn’t possibly do this right now.

“I- M-Mig- uh- ‘m l-late for c-chem- sorry!” You stuttered and pushed past him to get to class and manage your thoughts properly.

As soon as you made it and sat at your unassigned assigned seat that happened to be next to MJ, who was worried to see you so stunned, held your hand and tried to get you to be calm because you looked so distressed.

You hadn’t even realized your hands and legs were shaking. How could they not be?

You just witnessed the most brutal betrayal of all time and there was no concrete evidence whatsoever.

Your first instant thought was that Miguel wouldn’t believe you.

He was full on in love with Dana now, in what world would he believe the love of his love would be cheating on him?

Not only cheating on him but cheating on him with his brother?!?

MJ’s mouth was moving but you couldn’t hear a word, you couldn’t even read her lips. All your brain was set on was how of fucking course it had to be you who caught Dana’s ass cheating.

How fast she’d turn it onto you would be so insane. Disgusting even.

What if she exposed your feelings towards him?

What if she could convince him you’re lying?

All you could do is pray he’d believe his ole reliable best friend over a girl he’s been with for 6 months and his brother he never really got along with.

MJ was eventually able to catch your attention but it took the entire lesson for her to get a peep out of you. And that peep only happen to be a sad whisper of Miguel’s name.

As your phone finally charged your first instinct was to text Miguel, quickly typing the words, “need to see you, my place after class?”

He quickly responded with a simple, “sounds good.” Then followed by a, “should I be worried?” Which you had no response to.

You quietly told MJ the unfortunate news to which she nearly gasped out loud. Her eyes were wide and she finally understood why you were so freaked out.

The lecture had finally ended and you collected all your things while MJ was quietly asking you questions to which you quietly answered.

Following your tail as you left the lecture hall and off to find Peter to quickly fill him in, and to help with your nerves because you didn’t even know how to start off that conversation with Miguel.

They were both giving you suggestions on how to break it down gently to him while Peter drove you back to your place.

You could feel the anxiety building in your stomach and it felt so scary not knowing how he’ll react.

And it overall felt even worse that you couldn’t take a video or a picture. This was practically a test to see if he’d trust you enough to tell him the truth or just make up a lie.

You could only pray that he’d believe your words over hers but you couldn’t even begin to prepare yourself in case he didn’t.

How could he not believe you? Even if you’ve been desperately in love with him you’d never do anything to purposely destroy any of his relationships.

You were just too kind-hearted to ever even think about doing that.

Would he really have it in him to not trust your words anymore?

Will he believe her words over yours?

Will this lifelong friendship finally come to its end like Dana has been wanting from the very beginning?

Finally you had arrived at your apartment and you still felt uneasy. Miguel’s car wasn’t in sight until you heard the revving of his car and that’s when things started to get real.

They gave you their final words of encouragement before you got out and climbed up the steps to wait for him.

He parked behind Peter and as he got out you could slightly hear him ask if they were gonna come in to which they obviously said no.

He shrugged and walked over to you as you unlocked the first door before stepping in and walking to the left door that lead up to your apartment.

“Hey are you okay? You seemed shaken up earlier.” He said, walking in and shutting the first door behind him.

You walked in and stepped aside to let him go in then shut the door behind him. The anxiety returned and you weren’t so sure how to start it all off once you turned around to look at him.

Your heart ached and although you might’ve been filled with jealousy for months on end, you would never pray he would get hurt this way.

You always wanted happiness for him, even if it wasn’t with you.

And now that he had it, you had to break his heart.

How could you possibly let him down gently?

You felt your hands beginning to sweat and your legs started shaking again which he instantly noticed and grabbed you, carefully leading you to the couch.

He sat you down and sat right next to you, gently holding your hands, wondering what could possibly have given you such a drastic reaction.

You desperately tried to calm yourself but it was to no use. Your body was panicking inside and out, giving away that this was something serious.

You still didn’t know how to even start.

So you just blurted it out.

“Dana cheated on you.”

Silence filled the room.

You could’ve sworn he could hear your heart pounding out of your chest. He was frozen and immediate tears formed in his eyes.

This was so fucked up.

In all these years of being his shoulder to cry on, you were petrified that it would come to an end. In a way you kind of always relied on him being there no matter what.

This whole situation could make or break that.

“I saw Dana making out with Gabriel on campus…” you whispered before adding, “I’m so sorry.”

You had never felt so nervous in your life. You moved one hand from his and held his while he stared down at the floor.

You were subconsciously tapping your foot on the ground because the anxiety had just taken control and the silence was already killing you.

You couldn’t help but feel sympathetic, he truly has never been so happy, and now it’s just gone.

You looked at his face and as soon as you did, his tears started pouring out. One hot tear fell after another and you grabbed him, him embracing you as he cried into your shoulder.

You felt sick to your stomach, it felt like the most unfortunate thing to ever have happened to you.

Having to tell the love of your life that his girlfriend cheated on him.

Having to see how heartbroken he was.

Nothing would’ve prepared you for his reaction.

The quiet sobs and light shaking.

The way his hands were trembling while holding on to you.

You just hugged him as tightly as you could and gently rubbed his back to try to soothe him. Maybe it was past trauma that suddenly hit him, that he started to sob a little louder.

Your heart was practically breaking right with his. You felt downright horrible and weren’t sure how you could possibly help him. Only thing you could do was be with him, and you’d be with him for as long as he needed.

And you were.

Like the absolute best friend, of course you were.

The day after you explained in full, what you witnessed and he stayed at your place for a solid week before he decided to talk to Dana and listen to what she had to say. You offered to go with him but he said it was best you stayed, though he did really want your support but didn’t think it would be appropriate.

It was midday on a Friday when he had the call and he didn’t come back that night.

Or the next.

Or after that.

You had no fucking clue what was said and neither did Peter nor MJ.

Monday morning your mind kept thinking worst case scenarios which had you feeling uneasy as you were walking on campus to your first lecture.

Suddenly you stopped with Peter and MJ following suit at the sight in front of you. Miguel’s arms wrapped around Dana’s with Gabriel standing in front of them laughing at something.

That was the moment you felt your heart shatter into pieces at the realization of what happened.

Your words weren’t enough.

And in his emotional state and her false sweet voice she definitely used, of course he fell for whatever lying words she told him.

Her manipulative and crazy ass didn’t help from the pain this brought you.

He was your best friend.

Falling hopelessly and desperately in love with someone who was once a shy little nerd that would be there everyday for you, to now a man who doubted his best friend’s word for a girl he knew for less than a year.

8 years.

8 years you had known each other and not once ever lied to one another.

All of a sudden in his mind it makes sure that you lied about something as graphic as this.

All of a sudden he believes her words over your own.

Absolutely nothing could’ve prepared you for the way your heart ached and all you felt was hopelessness.

When Gabriel slightly moved, Miguel was now in clear view of you three, more specifically you.

The most vicious glare was all he was giving you meanwhile Dana only had a mischievous smirk on her face which gave you all the confirmation you needed.

Peter shook his head in disgust while MJ grabbed you, making you walk in the direction of your lecture while Peter walked behind you both before stepping up to him and muttering, “The truth will hit you hard one day.”

And boy did it.

Three months after that Miguel was going back to his place to cook a romantic dinner only to catch Gabriel giving Dana backshots on the kitchen counter.

Immediate regret hit him and he realized you were indeed telling him the truth.

He realized Dana’s bold lie that you were the liar, and made that stuff up about her was because you wanted to steal him from her, was indeed not real. That you weren’t deeply in love with him and needed to fabricate the perfect lie to finally steal him.

But before they both left (half dressed), Dana had to let him know that he was the easiest to manipulate out of all her exes. Then that the reality was that you were in love with him, the only lie being just that you didn’t plan anything.

She just hated girl best friends but also wasn’t in the mood for something so serious. She wanted a cop out. A way out.

So she figured you were the easiest target and making up that his other two friends, who she also didn’t like, were also in on it, was the best way to go about it.

The only reason she came back to Miguel was because she grew bored of Gabriel and wanted him back.

And he fell right into her trap.

And there was no way to fix or mend what he so badly broke.

It was far too late.

But at last, you’d never let him break your heart again.

#miguel ohara #miguel ohara imagine #across the spiderverse #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o'hara #Miguel ohara angst #spiderman 2099 #Miguel O’Hara angst

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biibini · 3 months

Note

Okay like you don’t have to answer this with headcanons or writing but what do you think about Mizu being in a relationship in a modern au while keeping in mind how much of a sweetheart she was with her husband (💀) ? I feel like she’d also be super sweet?? I understand she’s distant as fuck at first especially if he keep it in the modern au that she had a horrible ex but do you think she’d be this tender after reaching a very intimate point with her girlfriend? Sorry for the rant 😭😭

a/n: no nonono dont be sorry ab the rant!! i love everyone’s ideas and asks that come in. ik i havent been on them but we pushing thru 😭

first of,

idk why but “husband (💀)?" is just funny to me

modern!mizu would def have trauma

its a given

like in the show, her trauma runs DEEP

its right at the beginning of her birth

but from a modern!au perspective, i feel like m*k*o would be a fresh air of the bullying and lack of connection she had experienced growing up

she couldn't fit in with the girls bc she wasn't interested in shopping or the latest episode

she could try to fit with the guys bc of her shared interests

but no one in kohama rlly understood her

or got to rlly know her

when she went to college, it was a breath of fresh air away from her hometown

no one would know who she rlly was

it was a fresh, clean slate

for the most part

besides taigen

but anyways

the fencing club at mizu's college was a way for her to hone her skills

and her romantic interests

sure, she could beat everyone in her freshman class during fencing club but she had never felt so interested in a guy

and the way she felt seen through his kindness after club meetups

after getting on his motorcycle, mizu realized that her interests wouldn't scare away a guy like him

she opened up who she truly was to m*k*o after feeling safe with him

before reader, i feel like modern!mizu would try to take time to better herself

thats where the gym rat rlly starts to take off

she needed to get her mind off of things

if she stayed home and worked, she would constantly be surrounded by things that she introduced m*k*o

her house, her awards, the bikes she had worked on

if she went to her hometown fencing club, she would get constant reminders ab him

and their practices together

and the rides out to the coast afterwards

the gym was a mix of a fresh start

and a way to clear her mind

she's not perfect (as much as i joke she is)

after going thru it after the breakup and finally finding a few friends (aka ringo and akemi and ig taigen), she would be a LOT more closed off

and be a lot more cautious

but then came you

modern!mizu would take her time and be wary when she starts a new relationship with u

she's worried that the same will happen

but the more u spend time w her

the more u get to rlly know her

and the more layers u pull back

she'll get rlly comfortable and be so tender

it wouldn't be the same naive, kind mizu from her previous relationship

instead, it would be a sweet, caring and guiding mizu

she would start to break down her walls that helped her protect her heart from harm

but knowing u

her heart will be in safe hands with u

#mizu blue eye samurai #mizu bes #mizu x reader #bes mizu #blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai mizu #mizu headcanons #mizu x y/n #mizu x you #modern mizu #blue eye samurai modern au

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cameronspecial · 2 months

Text

Candle-Lit Dinners

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Suggestive Ending

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Request by @arim250: Hey! Kinda was thinking a request whenever u can. something w either drew or rafe about celebrating yn bday (bc my bday is coming lol) Ik I said my bday is the 25th but doesn’t have to be said that day maybe just around the holidays or however u would want to write it… he plans a romantic evening a restaurant or made at home food reader maybe comes home and there’s rose petals/candles food and ending w a sexy night I wouldn’t want to be like smut but still something around there lol

Masterlist

Her parents took Y/N out to lunch and she spent the afternoon with them at the mall. She watched a movie, did some shopping, and was now ready to go home to her boyfriend. She opens the front door to find rose petals leading into the dining room. The house is filled with the aromatic smell of spices from her favourite meal. Creamy Thyme Chicken with Sautéed Apples and Mushrooms. She pads her way toward the candle-lit dinner and Rafe is standing over the table, pouring wine into glasses for them. “Happy Birthday, Baby,” he wishes with a smile. He comes around the table to take the bags out of her hands and kisses her lips. The bags drop to the floor by the archway. She grins at him, “Thank you. Dinner looks delicious.” He pulls the chair out for her and pushes it in once she is seated. “You’re welcome. What did you do after I dropped you off?” he questions. Y/N and Rafe had an early breakfast together before going to the beach to spend time on the sand. It was too cold for them to go swimming. There, he gave her her gift of a necklace with his initials on it. She takes her utensils in her hands, “We had lunch at the country club and then we watched that new rom-com that came out yesterday. I did some shopping too. What have you been doing?”

They begin eating and Rafe’s leg reaches out under the table to twine with one of hers. “I’ve been preparing for all of this. I went grocery shopping because I didn’t want to buy the ingredients early and have you figure out my plan. It took me a while to figure everything out,” he replies. Her eyes look up from her dinner to stare at him through her lashes, “Well, thank you for going through all this trouble for me.” “No problem, Baby. Anything for my girl, especially on her birthday,” he says, leaning across the table to kiss her.

The meal is finished over the course of an hour. The lovers take the time to talk to and be with each other. After dinner, he lets her help clean up because he knows she just wants to spend time with him. They finish the dishes and she orders him to stay downstairs. She dashes upstairs with the shopping bags she brought home, changing into a certain outfit she bought for today. She returns downstairs and watches the growing boner in her boyfriend’s pants. She motions towards it, “I see you like my gift to you.” He nods vigorously and beckons her forward. “It’s your birthday. I should be showering you in gifts,” he points out, pulling her onto his lap. She sits back on his knees as she straddles him. Her hands play with the hairs on the back of his neck, “I can think of a few ways that you can give me more presents and they could all be given right now.” “I think there are too. I think we have maybe five more gifts for me to give you,” he agrees against her lips. She giggles, “Five. That’s a lot.” “What can I say I’m a generous man,” he teases. They spend the night making passionate love by the candle-lit.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

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jsprnt · 1 month

Text

Americano PT. 5 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: pff, this was a long one, enjoy babes. A heads up in advance, I’ll be taking a break in the first week of April due to my exams 🫶

W/C: 4.558

part four

"Come in here and bring your laundry hamper!"

"Just a second, dad!"

I jump out of bed, leaving my phone on the other end of it, and grab the pink hamper. I hold onto the handles tightly as I make my way out of my room.

I see him standing over the washing machine in the laundry room. I enter quickly, the both of us starting to sort out the dirty clothes and putting them in the machine accordingly.

"Did you finish packing?" My dad asks, glancing at me before grabbing the laundry detergent and fabric softener out of the cabinet above me.

"Yeah, just a couple basic things. It's like a 2-3 day trip."

He pours the blue liquid into the cap, checking the measurements before pouring it into the designated compartment. Doing the same thing with the fabric softener.

"Really? No fancy dress or anything?"

I look up from the washing machine, a sheepish smile forming on my face. I watch him shake his head in disbelief, a smile on his face as he turns the machine on.

"When I sent you abroad- I thought your aunt would raise you exactly like I would. But I forgot she probably raised you to love dressing up like her. You know, she used to terrorize me in my own room growing up, only because I had bigger windows and thus better lighting for when she did her makeup.." He shakes his head, chuckle leaving him as he reminisces.

I laugh at him, the smile on my face bigger now.

"I think packing something proper is very important. It worked out pretty well last Saturday when we went for dessert in Girona."

"Just stay safe when going out. It's a dangerous world, honey." He says, putting his hand on my shoulder.

I purse my lips at his words, remembering what had happened just a couple nights ago. He didn't know about the entire debacle, but since it was already dealt with, I didn't see a reason to bring it up.

"When are you getting up?"

"Not super early, like around eight? The match isn't until Tuesday, so no early flight."

"You know, it's almost twelve, right? Go to bed already, and don't go on your phone." He tuts, scolding me and pushing me towards my room.

"Alright, I'll go to bed."

"Goodnight, I love you." He says, kissing my forehead before he makes his way down the stairs.

"Love you too!" I shout as I watch him walk away while I stand in front of my bedroom door. The silence of the house surrounding me when I’m left alone.

The team had finally wrapped up training for the day. We had arrived in Napels that morning, and they had trained hard until late in the afternoon.

This left us with some free time for the rest of the day, until we had to prepare for the match tomorrow.

"You've been doing your makeup for about 40 minutes now." I hear Luis complain, lying flat on his back on top of my bed.

"I could be meeting my future Italian husband out there! Come on, let me look cute for tonight."

I darken up my eye makeup, coloring my waterline with a black pencil to contrast my white dress.

I then drench my face in setting spray, fanning it dry with a random brochure, I found on the nightstand.

"Besides, you're wrinkling your clothes, stand up. I can't have you looking bummy! What if you find yourself a pretty lady?" I wink, struggling to hold back a laugh at the unimpressed expression he sends me.

I finally stand up from the chair, smoothing down my dress in front of the mirror, and adjust the slit a little.

"We can go now!"

"Are you drinking?"

"No, not feeling it tonight." I mutter, eyeing the delicious-sounding food on the menu.

I look up, watching Luis flip through the menu.

"I'm going to order a pizza."

"Why pizza?" He asks, looking at me.

"We are practically in the birthplace of pizza. Are you judging me?" I ask, raising a brow at him.

"Just get it, I'm not judging you.." He raises his hands as if to surrender.

"You're so mean when you're hungry." He mumbles, closing his menu.

"Just appreciate the fact that I dragged you here. Look at how beautiful the view is.

I turn, admiring the view behind the glass panels of the restaurant. The Vesuvius mountain and the water are absolutely breathtaking, especially right now during sunset.

He sighs at me in agreement, looking around to find a waiter for us to finally order our food.

I watch him order for the both of us, getting distracted by the view, and turn towards him when the waiter leaves.

"If you get hammered, I'll leave you here.."

"So, now you want to find an Italian girlfriend?" I ask Luis bewildered, watching him walk - no stumble in front of me.

The drinks he ordered were good, so good he felt inclined to ordered multiple of them. I didn't keep count, but he definitely had more than his limit, which made him the drunk mess he was right now.

"Of course, you're my best friend. We should each find a person to marry!" He slurs, walking towards the docks.

I sigh deeply, looking down at my heels, before jogging up to him, clutching onto his shirt tightly.

"You're going to fall into the water!" I shout, trying to hold him back from the edge, but he shouts in protest.

"It's fine, maybe one of these hot people will save me from drowning."

Oh my god

I look up to where he's pointing, seeing a group of people on an expensive-looking catamaran. I'm way too distracted to realize my grip on Luis has loosened, and watch him leave. I see him greet the partying people loudly. I close my eyes in embarrassment, wanting to jump into the water out of shame.

Who even parties on a random Monday evening?

I surprisingly hear someone shout something in what sounds like Italian. I turn my head, eyes searching as I turn my attention to the person.

My eyes meet the eyes of a tall, brown-eyed, beautifully sun-kissed man. His blue linen shirt halfway unbuttoned.

He looked like, and definitely is trouble.

I hear him say something again, and my eyes widen when they go back to Luis, who looks like he's having the time of his life with two girls.

"English?" I hear the beautiful stranger ask.

I nod, watching him walk towards the dock and then, interestingly enough, reach for my hand.

I would never leave Luis alone on this boat full of strangers. Therefore, I reluctantly grab the guy's hand as he pulls me onto the boat.

"Hi?" I greet, raising a brow. Quickly smoothing my dress down.

"Hello, and your name is?" He asks, eyes roaming up and down my body, definitely checking me out. The Aussie accent practically melting me on the spot, making it difficult for my jaw to stay closed.

He was the definition of trouble.

But I needed to get my mess of a friend off this damn boat and leave.

"y/n, yours?" I ask, pretending to be more interested than I am, sneakily glancing at Luis.

"I'm Chris. You're not from here, are you?"

Obviously not

"No, I'm actually from Valencia."

A white lie, he didn't have to know anything about me.

"Valencia, Spain? What are you and your friend doing here?"

"Visiting, for fun." I lie again, giving him a smile.

"Really? Having fun so far?" He smiles, his pearly white teeth blinding me.

"Yeah, a lot of fun." I reply, my brows raising in fake interest.

I watch him chuckle, his plump lips curling up. His arm going up to run a hand through his blonde locks.

"Care for a drink, then?"

As beautiful as this man was, I wasn't naive enough to accept a drink from him. Especially, since we were in a totally different country.

"I'm fine, actually. I'm leaving tomorrow, so I'm trying to not drink as much."

"Oh, you probably came to watch the Champions League game then?"

Got me, kind of.

I immediately pull a sour face, pretending to be disgusted.

"Of course not, I have better things to do than attend a Real Madrid match. If it wasn't for Valencia, I'd be for Barcelona anyway.."

That one physically hurt to say.

"Oh- don't get mad now." He teases, putting his hands up, his smile getting wider.

I had to leave hastily, at least before this man got me into his bed.

"You're fine. I'm just trying to get my friend and leave. You alright with that?"

"Let me get your number first. Don't think I'll forget you after tonight." He says, handing me his phone.

I was curving the man left and right, and he still wanted my number?

"I don't really give out my number. But I can give you my Instagram handle?"

"That's fine." He says, clicking on his Instagram.

I watch his screen, my eyes accidentally catching the number of girls on his explore page.

No way, this man was looking for something serious.

"Oh, I'll type it in. If that's alright?" I say, reaching for his phone. He nods, handing me the device.

I quickly type in my username, pressing follow.

To snoop a little further, I go back to the explore page, seeing more ass and boobs than I had prepared for. Pretending to be unfazed as I clear the Instagram tab and hand his phone back to him.

I mean, their bodies were amazing, but why the hell was he following them?

"That's it. Here you go. My phone is dead, so I'll talk to you later?" I say, fidgeting with my handbag. My social battery was dying even faster than normal tonight.

I watch him nod, his eyes on me, as I immediately make my way to Luis, who's now sitting with a random girl.

"Hi, sorry to interrupt, but we have to leave."

I grab onto Luis' arm, using all my strength to get him up. Noticing the amount of shot glasses and empty beer bottles in front of them.

How the hell did he manage to do that so fast?

Idiot.

"Wait, do you want his Instagram?" I ask the girl. She hesitates before nodding looking at us confused.

"Okay, well, let me spell it for you."

I spell his username quickly, turning away.

"Yes, that's it. We're not a thing, by the way- he's my brother. Bye!"

Another lie, but maybe it would help him in the long run.

"Let's go, come on." I groan, dragging Luis back to the hotel.

It was doable until he started leaning his body on me, making me slump partially. My heels beginning to hurt my feet more than ever.

After a good ten minutes of struggling, we finally enter the elevator of the hotel, his body weight starts to pile on me. Arriving at our correct floor I drag him out, a huge sigh of relief leaving my lips as I recognize some of our Real Madrid players.

"Help." I mumble, watching some of them recognize the fact that I was half-suffocating.

I watch Antonio, Aurélien, and Jude, of all people, walk towards us, getting drunk and passed out Luis off of me.

"Thank you." I sigh, fixing myself, watching Antonio comically throw Luis onto one of the seats there.

"What happened to him?" I hear Brahim say as I try to catch my breath and I readjust my grip on my bag.

"Long story."

"Let's put him to bed first." Antonio says, making me nod. All of our eyes moving to a passed-out Luis.

"So, he got into a random boat?" Federico asks, looking at me.

I nod, trying to hold back a laugh while I drink my water. The cardigan I had retrieved from my room keeping me warm as we sat in the sky lounge.

"I would've partied." I look up at Cama, shaking my head.

"They were strangers, come on! But- one guy did approach me." I say, sending him a smug look.

"So you had some fun!"

"Look, he was cute. He offered me a drink, but I refused."

"That's it? Come on..”

"Why are you all up in my business?" I joke, being half-serious, hearing some of them laugh.

I finish my cup of water, beginning to stand up from my seat.

"It's getting late, I'm going up to my room. Don’t make it late, you guys need to rest well!" I say, waving after they send me off with kind words.

I press the elevator button, crossing my arms as I wait for it to arrive. The doors open a few seconds later, and I step in. I raise my head in surprise when I see an arm hold the doors open. Surprise turns into irritation when I notice Jude step in.

"Why did you follow me?" I ask, playing with the clasp on my bag.

"You know, not everything is about you." He mutters, a fed-up expression on his face. I sigh, closing my eyes in impatience, as I lean against the elevator wall.

The elevator makes a noise, and I check the floor number, getting out, hearing him follow me.

I start rummaging through my handbag for my room-key. Finally, fishing it out as we walk up to our respective rooms.

I arrive at my door, hearing Jude walk up to his own, his room interestingly enough being across from mine.

I go to scan my card but freeze, realizing my door is open by a small sliver.

"Why is my door open?" I mumble to myself, trying to subdue my instant panic.

"What?" I hear, seeing Jude walk up to me from the corner of my eye. His eyes darting in between me and the door.

"You left it open, probably." He responds, not an ounce of concern in his voice.

"You think?"

"Yeah, since you're so good with doors-"

"Okay, stop right there." I mutter, pushing the door open further. I flick the light on, looking around cautiously.

I hear him scoff at my behavior, and I turn around to look at him.

"Can you check the room?" I ask, trying to sound as nice as possible.

"No." He deadpans, giving me a bored look.

I hold back a string of cuss words, stepping into the room as he stands at the doorway.

"Stay here at least, before I get murdered."

"Would be a sight." He mutters, voice laced with humor. Though, I found it difficult to see this situation as funny.

"You're not funny. Are you aware of that?" I ask, punching into the curtains to check if anyone's hiding behind them.

"Find anything, detective?"

"Shut up." I whisper, going to open the bathroom door, hesitating for a moment.

Adrenaline starts pumping through my veins. I try to take deep breaths to prepare for a fight.

"What if someone's actually here?" I whisper, my eyes wide, as I turn to look at Jude.

I watch his expression harden, his jaw tensing as he looks at me.

"What do you mean?!" I hear Jude whisper back. His voice is hushed and more low than usual.

I take off both of my heels, ready to bash the possible intruder’s head in with my heels.

"Call security." I whisper, preparing to fight. I watch him take out his phone, before he raises his head again. His expression darkens for a moment before it changes into something- else...

"What are you doing, idiot? Come here." He says, and I can almost make out a vein popping out of his forehead.

All of the sudden, he makes his way over to me, grabbing my wrist and dragging me out of my room. Shutting the heavy door behind me, his hands coming up to my shoulders.

"What is wrong with you? You don't even know if they're with a weapon or anything!" He shouts in a hushed voice, his Brum accent more prominent than ever.

I continue staring at him, my lips parting in realization.

Damn, I was such a shallow thinker in times of crisis.

My mind turns blank, not acknowledging Jude's presence anymore. I can only hear him sigh and mumble something as security from both the club and hotel arrive at my room.

"Could you take her somewhere else, sir?” I hear someone say, feeling my wrist being pulled abruptly by Jude.

I follow him blindly, but I try to look back at my room. Wanting to see if someone would actually appear out of my room.

"Don't look." I hear, looking in front of me again as I’m brought into the hotel room across from mine. Nicer and bigger, definitely his.

"Sit down." He orders, pulling my wrist again and making me sit on one of the cushioned chairs.

I oblige without protest, too dazed to react in a snarky way. The silence in the room feels like hours when only being about ten minutes. It is finally cut off as Jude's phone starts ringing loudly.

I hear him speak for a few minutes before he hangs up. I watch him walk towards me as he sits in the chair next to me.

"No one was there, they checked the cameras as well. You left the door open."

I cringe, realizing my own initial mistake. A shudder runs through me as he explains.

"Oh, great!" I mumble sarcastically, feeling embarrassed, fidgeting with the fabric of my dress. Only now realizing I was barefoot, my heels probably fell out of my grasp when he pulled me out of the room.

I get up when he finishes explaining, walking up to the door. Pulling my soft cardigan closer to soothe myself.

"Where are you going?" I hear Jude ask. I turn and look back at him.

"Back to my room." I say, suddenly feeling the day's exhaustion take effect. My vision becoming blurry as I feel an ache make its way to my head.

This day alone probably took five years off my lifespan.

I hear him sigh as he walks up to me. Feeling him put his hand on my right shoulder.

"What?" I ask, looking him up and down. Trying to shrug his hand off of my shoulder.

I watch his jaw tense again, his grip on my shoulder getting tighter, though, not getting to the point of hurting.

I open my mouth to speak again, as he doesn't bother to answer my question. Unfortunately, I’m stopped by a sharp pain shooting through my head.

I groan in pain, placing my hands on my temples as I squeeze my eyes shut.

"What's wrong?" I hear him whisper, his other hand making its way to my left shoulder.

"I'm fine..." I dismiss, taking his hands off my shoulders. I reach for the door handle, pulling it down and stepping out of the room.

I tap my card against the sensor hurriedly and open my door, turning to see his door across the hallway already shut.

"Doesn't even care to watch me go inside." I mutter, ridding myself of my clothes and taking a much-needed shower. Trying to wash off all my stress and embarrassment.

When I'm done, I make a beeline to my bed, closing my eyes and forcing myself to sleep. I shift and turn, groaning in frustration as I turn my pillow around for the nth time.

It's like my sleep was robbed of me within minutes. My thoughts keeping me up. I check the time, realizing it was almost two in the morning.

I begin getting fully paranoid, my stupid brain making up the craziest scenarios imaginable.

I bury my face deeper into my pillow, forcing my brain to shut up. Finally, managing to fall asleep, too tired to keep my anxious walls up.

"You look like a truck ran you over."

"Shut up." I snarl replying to Jude. Trying to ignore him further as I continue eating my food, Luis sitting across from me at the breakfast buffet.

I had gotten maybe five hours of sleep. My three layers of concealer weren’t doing its job today. It had creased within minutes of application.

I roll my eyes as he sits at the table next to us, probably to annoy me further.

“Someone get this weirdo away from me..” I say loudly, closing my eyes in prayer.

I hear Jude scoff, following it up with a laugh.

"Were you born insufferable, or do you practice in the mirror before going to bed?" I ask, poking at my food.

I hear him chuckle again, which makes my blood boil even more. I glance at Luis, seeing a grin forming on his face.

"You too?"

I had told him everything that had happened last night, him feeling embarrassed but finding it hilarious at the same time.

He did promise he'd make it up to me.

"Don't forget how I dragged your ass from the dock to the hotel. I could've easily left you there."

I threaten, looking at Luis as I shove another spoonful of food in my mouth.

I see Jude open his mouth, but I stop him with a hand as my phone rings. My dad calling me right at the perfect moment.

"Oops, sorry, too busy for whatever you want to say."

I realize how immature I sound, but I digress. I get up and answer the call. Chatting to my dad about the past few days.

I signal for Luis to stop filming, patting his back to commend him for his hard work after the final whistle is blown. A nice 3-2 putting us on top of the table.

"They played really well."

I hum, posting the last social media post and turning to him.

"Right, if they keep playing like this, we'll definitely end up at the top of table C for sure."

"We'll go far. That's without question."

We make our way inside, trying to rush to get inside on time.

"Hugo is saying to interview both Frederico and Jude." I mutter, rereading the text message.

"That's fine, let's just wait here until they're ready." He says, both of us waiting in front of the changing room as they pile inside. Tired expressions on all of their faces.

"By the way, have you seen this one guy that's working here? He's so cute for you." I hear Luis say, looking up at him confused.

"Which one?" I ask, fidgeting with the cable of the camera.

"I'll show you when I see him." He says, and I give him a look.

"He better be cute, since you're making me wait."

"Alright, that's it." I announce, looking at Jude. Finally wrapping up his interview.

"Thank you." He mutters, with less attitude this time. Probably way too tired to have a petty fight with me. I wasn't disappointed with that, to be honest. I couldn't stand speaking to him anymore.

"See you on the bus, man." I hear Jude say, giving Luis a handshake as he begins walking away. My eyes follow him, piercing into his back.

"See, that's the guy I was talking about." I hear Luis say, my head snapping towards the direction he was looking at.

"Which one-" I begin, shamelessly looking at the guy.

"What? No, are you serious?" I ask, appalled by the person he’s shipping me with.

"Yeah, he's cute for you." He mutters, giving me a smirk.

"You might be hungover still. Let's just get into the bus, please."

We pack our equipment up, starting to walk towards the team buses. Successfully helping fellow staff with the multiple suitcases and bags and stepping up into the vehicle.

We greet the players we make eye contact with, the both of us walking along the occupied seats until we finally find two empty ones next to each other.

"I'm tired..." I mumble, leaning my back against the seat, closing my eyes as I get comfortable. Leaving my phone on my lap.

"I can see that." I hear Luis reply, and I open one of my eyes to give him an offended look.

"How sweet of you." I reply, trying to take a quick fifteen-minute nap. Running around for more than two hours with five hours of sleep was not for the weak.

I was part of the weak.

I hear the sound of a notification, surprised it could be heard through all of the chatter and banter of everyone in the bus.

"Was that your phone?" I ask, leaning my head against the window.

"No, it was yours." Luis answers.

"Can you read it for me? You know my password."

I feel my phone being removed from my lap, a second of silence from Luis before he starts laughing uncontrollably.

"What?" I ask, getting curious.

What could be that funny?

"It's a DM from a Chris on Instagram."

"Who the fuck is Chris?" I ask, finally opening my eyes to take my phone back. My eyes roaming around the screen, reading a short message with a 'view once’ photo.

"Thought you repped Valencia?"

I read the message out loud, looking back at Luis, confused. Then I look at the profile picture.

"Oh my god! It's the guys from the boat!" I shout, embarrassed when I realize I was being louder than necessary.

"The one you talked about?"

"Yeah- wait, what do you think the photo is?" I ask, starting to feel squirmy.

"A dick pic." I hear Luis whisper.

"Who got a dick pic?"

I hear someone ask, looking at the row behind me. Jude peeking his head in between our headrests.

"Not you, so mind your own business.." I reply, moving my phone out of his view and returning to my conversation with Luis. Ignoring the daggers he’s sending me with his piercing gaze.

"No way, gross. He looked desperate, but no way."

"Well, click on it."

"No, now I'm scared. Why would you even bring that up?"

"Just squint."

I huff, leaning back against the widow, squinting as I press on the photo.

"Oh-" I exclaim, taking a deep, relieved breath.

Thankfully, it’s not an explicit picture, but a photo of me at the stadium we were just at, prematch to be specific. From the angle, you could tell the photo was taken from the stands.

"Wait- what the fuck? He was there? Ew, why did he take a photo of me?” I say, showing Luis the screen.

I watch his mouth fall open. He reaches over, taking my phone from me and screenshots the photo.

"That's why he sent that message. You lied to him about yourself, right?"

"Of course I did!" I say, snatching the phone from his hand.

"What do I say?" I ask, looking at him with a questioning look.

"Do you even want to speak to him?"

"Well- I'm bored?" I give him a grin, his arm coming to push me.

“I can’t stop you, but you said he looked like trouble, so ignore him..." He advises, squeezing my arm.

I nod at his words, taking them in. I swipe to press the mute button on the chat, and turn my phone off.

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