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pit-and-the-pen · 3 months

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Birthday Present

Birthday fic for @sarawritestories.

Summary: Cassian was gone during your birthday and shows up while you’re at work to make up for it.

Warnings: Smut (18+), P in v, Oral (f/m receiving), spit, collars/leash, fingering.

WC: 4.1k

This was probably the longest you had been separated from Cassian since the mating bond had snapped. You weren’t mad per say but you missed your mate like crazy. Not to mention that he had missed your birthday three days ago. You knew that he had wanted to be there, he made sure to top the previous year's celebration every time. And he always managed to deliver. Somehow after being mated for more than fifty years, he had never disappointed. But this year he was helping finally start to train the females in Windhaven. Something that you knew he had been fighting for for so long, how could you be mad at him for being there when that’s what was keeping him away.

Your birthday party was amazing nonetheless. Cassian had left detailed instructions for Nesta and Gwen as to how the party would go. He made sure to order your favorite foods well in advance, even having your present delivered first thing in the morning along with a bouquet of pink and white roses that was so large it took two people to deliver it. It filled the house with the scent of roses. The smell almost makes up for the lack of your favorite smell in the whole world, that citrus and salt smell that always seemed to accompany Cassian. The other part of your gift was a ruby choker with a piece of his siphon carved into the same shape as the diamond on your wedding band. You had nearly cried when you opened the box and had sent the image of you wearing it to your mate and the satisfied rush of lust you received back only proved how much he liked it too. You wish he had been there when you opened it, wish you could have shown him just how much you appreciated the piece of him that you now wore around your neck. Everyone already damn well knew who your mate was but the weight of it around your neck served as a warm reminder for you.

You rolled out of bed when your alarm went off, your mouth felt like someone had stuffed cotton balls in it. Nesta, Gwen and Elain had made sure that you properly celebrated your birthday last night. The empty bottles of wine and some clear liquor you didn't bother asking the name of proved as much. You gulped down the glass of water you had the sense to place out the night before and began to get dressed for the day.

You picked one of your favorite skirts. Long by fae standards, nearly brushing your calf. A swirling floral pattern offset the dark green of the background. You tucked in the long sleeved cream sweater and gave a small twirl in the mirror, watching the way the skirt fanned out around you as you did so. Your hair was quickly thrown into a high ponytail and you made sure to pull the necklace out from the high neck of the sweater. The charm just visible.

Quickly grabbing a slice of toast and some left over fruit from last night, you grabbed your bag and walked out the door. The slight chill in the morning air made you thankful for the sweater but you knew by the time the sun rose you would be sweating. The sound of your shoes hitting the cobblestoned street was the only sound that filled the air. You loved these quiet moments in the early morning. It gave you time to really soak in the beauty of Velaris. The way the rainbow street near your little shop shone in the faint rays of sunlight. The way the city itself seemed to hum with the sleeping breaths of its inhabitants. It was one of your favorite times to be out. You fished around in your bag for the ring of keys to unlock the store and stood in the doorway as you waited for the flights to kick on.

You loved the shop with all of your heart. It had been a mating present from Rhys. Your very own book store. The dark wood and dim lights made it seem so cozy. Cozy chairs and booths would be full of readers or writers thanks to the little cafe you had thought to add. Plus it had some of the best pastries in all of Velrais, so you’ve been told.

You switched the books on display for the day, putting your most recent read on the table next to a few new releases you had just gotten at the end of the day yesterday. Swirling letters were drawn on the sign next to them along with a small doddle to tell a little bit about the book and then you were ready to open the store, flipping the small “open” sign that Feyre had painted for you. You pulled the book you started last night out of your bag and sat down as you waited for people to start coming in.

The day seemed to drag by. It was relatively slow, only a few people coming in and out throughout the day. A few of your regulars sat in the cafe area, the soft sound of pens on paper and book pages turning became a gentle white noise that was starting to make your eyes heavy. You decided to get up to do something so you wouldn’t fall asleep.

You sighed heavily as you stacked another book on the shelf, rearranging the shop for the third time that month. You really did miss Cassian. The store seemed just a little too empty without him. He would always stop by to bring you lunch because he knows that you get so caught up in whatever task you were doing that day that you would forget otherwise. Sometimes he would just spend hours at the small high top table yapping away at whatever crossed his mind and you would have a smile on your face for the rest of the day.

Eventually the last of the customers packed up, calling their goodbyes as they walked out of the door. You sent your one cafe worker, Flora home for the day when they left. The sun was still high in the sky but you just wanted to be home. Cassian would be home later today and you wanted the time to clean up a little bit. Maybe make dinner after taking a nap. So you kept staking books, telling yourself you would leave once you emptied the cart next to the front counter. Too caught up to hear the front bell of the shop ring, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard someone clear their throat. You cursed softly to yourself, you must have forgotten to lock the door.

“Sorry we’re closed-” You turned around and a squeal left your mouth as you took in just exactly who was standing in the shop. Of course it was Cassian. His smell quickly flooded your senses and you put down the heavy book in your hand to launch yourself at him. You arms wrapped around his neck at the same time his arms wound around your waist. You buried your face into his chest as he squeezed you tighter against him.

“You weren’t supposed to get home until later. I would have closed up earlier if I had known.” You smiled up at him, basking in his presence..

“I wanted to get home to you, darling. Maybe even surprise you.” He leaned down to give you a teasing kiss. “Gods I missed you” He said once he pulled away from your lips. You wanted to pout at the loss of his plush lips against yours. Suddenly hyper aware of the fact that you haven't seen him in over a week. Your cheeks started to heat as you looked into his eyes, saw that he was clearly thinking the same thing. You were just about to tell him to take you home when he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“I locked the front door.” His words only stoked the fire in your stomach. His gravelly voice telling you exactly what he meant. And at that moment, you wouldn’t have cared if he had. All thoughts eddied out of your head except for the feeling of your mates skin against yours. He gave a slow kiss to the spot below your ear and a shiver ran through you. His hands go up to play with the necklace sitting just above your shirt.

“I want to see you in this.” He gave it a slight tug, pulling your chin up with it. “Only this.” You whimpered as he forced you to look him in the eye. Fidgeting under his heated stare. “But that can wait until later. For now…” He kissed down your neck, down the little bits of exposed skin along your collarbone and started to sink down to his knees. He looked up at you, silently asking for permission as his hands started to snake up your ankles, pulling your long skirt up along with it. All it took was your little nod before he slipped your skirt down your hips entirely. He buried his face into your lace underwear, a small cry falling from your lips. His fingers hooked over the edge of the lacy fabric and began to pull them teasingly slow down your legs. He didn’t hesitate to flatten his tongue and give your fold one long swipe.

Your hand rushed out to grab the bookshelf beside you, knocking some of the covers to the floor in a loud crash. The giggle that you let out quickly turned into a moan as Cassian’s nose bumped your clit. The free hand tangled itself in his pulled back hair, loosening some of the strand from the bun. His response was sinking his teeth into the flesh at your tight. Your fingers harshly yanking at long locks. He licked teasingly over the mark his mouth had left.

“God I love these.” He muttered as he kneaded your plush thighs. He gave you a quick glance before he shoved his face back into your weeping cunt. Rough hands pulling your hips closer to his relentless mouth, arms nearly supporting all of your weight like it was nothing to him. The angle gave you a good look at the muscles in his back as they flexed as he moved his head, his wings pulled in tight to avoid the shelves of books. You bit your fingers to hold back the string of moans falling from your lips. His teeth scraped lightly over your clit and you were bucking away from his mouth. Suddenly too much but that didn’t stop him. He whimpered as he pulled your hips closer again. The soft grunts leaving his mouth and the way his tongue was licking into your hole had you barrling over the edge before you could even think to tell him. You screamed around your fingers, head falling back against the bookshelf you were now completely leaning against. Cassian is still licking you through your orgasm. Your eyes fluttered open and you nearly jumped when you felt a finger at your entrance. He was grinning up at you, chin shiny with your arousal. His gaze didn’t leave yours as he sunk two fingers in, palm resting perfectly on your clit.

“Look at the way you suck my fingers in. So good for me.” He said into the skin of your thighs as he started to pump those fingers in and out of you. You squirmed against his fingers, hip twisting as he started to speed us his motions. He grabbed one of your legs and slung it over his shoulder, opening you up wider for him. Your hand was doing nothing to conceal the squeals and high pitched moans leaving your mouth. So you just let them fall freely.

“Cassian…Fuck. Please” You babbled, not entirely sure what you were begging for. For more, for him to stop, for him to speed up. You had no clue but you knew that you were going to explode if he wasn’t inside of you right this minute. His fingers didn’t slow down for a second, the veins in his arm starting to pop out as he flexed at the speed. Despite your brain screaming otherwise, your hand reached down to his wrist. He stilled instantly. Eyes suddenly full of concern.

You only pulled him up by the collar of his shirt, hands going to undo his belt.

“Darling. Hold on-” His words died off with a small whine as your hand wrapped around his hardened length.

“No. Cassian I’m going to die if you don’t fuck me right now.” Your voice was breathy and shaky. The need to have your mate inside you is too strong all of the sudden.

“I could get you home in-”

“Please. Need you now.” You begged, moving your hand up and down, squeezing when you reached the base. His hips bucked and a small huff left his lips.

“I wanted to make it special since it was your birthday but…fuck. I warned you, princess.” He said, head leaning against yours as he lightly brushed your hand away. He pushed his pants down to let his cock fully spring out. Despite being mated to him for so long, his cock always made you balk just a little. The length so thick your fingers just barely touched when you wrapped your hand around it. “Jump.” Was all he said as his hands went to cup the back of your thighs. You did so with a practiced ease. Your ankles wrapping around his back as he lined himself up with your dripping folds. You both hissed as his tip nudged into you. He didn’t wait for you to adjust, slamming all the way in. His pace was relentless. The pace of his thrusts caused the bookshelf to rattle against the wall. Your mouth parted into a perfect o shape. Cassian just squeezed your jaw, opening your mouth up further for him to place a claiming kiss on your lips. The kiss was just as messy as his strokes, his tongue licking into your mouth. You moaned as you tasted yourself on his lips. A perfect mixture of the two of you. You wrapped your legs around him tighter, using it as leverage to pull him into you. He growled into the kiss, teeth digging into your lower lip. Your back arched into his chest and his hand moved from your jaw to wrap around your ponytail. He yanked on the hair, tipping your head further back, effectively pinning you into place.

“Cas. Cas please. I’m gonna cum.”

“Then cum.” His teeth nip your earlobe right as his fingers come to rub tight circles on your clit. You are a goner. Your legs twitch against his back, his name pouring past your lips as he fucks your through your orgasm. His thrusts slow down, becoming languid strokes as he nears his own high. Your lips are all over him. Trailing exhausted kisses to his jaw, hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt that somehow managed to stay on during your actions. He stilled inside of you as you felt the muscles in his abdomen tighten before the warm rush of his cum filled you. His head dipped into the crook of your neck before you were whispering into his ear.

“Take me home right now.” And he didn’t need to be told twice. Before you could even process it, he had your skirt buttoned back at your waist. Underwear slid back up your legs. Not a single hair was out of place as he scooped you up in his arms and flew you back to your apartment.

------

The door had barely closed behind before your lips attached to his. Your hands gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him down to you. You felt the door shudder behind you as he pushed your back against it. Both of your hands were everywhere. Clothes peeled off with no regard for where they ended up.

“I never got to show you the best part of your present. Stay here.” He placed a kiss on your forehead before walking over to his bedside table and grabbing a small fabric pouch. He walked back over to you and slowly pulled out the contents of the bag. A long silver chain with a leather loop on the end. Your eyes widened as you placed two and two together.

“Only if you want to. That’s why I wanted-”

“Yes.” You blurted out. A blush took over your face but he only smiled at you.

“Then on your knees, darling.” He was suddenly towering over you and you loved every second of it. The carpet was soft under your knees and you sunk down. Your hands folded onto your thighs and your chin tilted up to look at him. He sucked in a heavy breath as your eyes met. A tender hand reached out to cup under your chin, tilting your chin further back and he crouched down to hook the chain into the large ring holding the piece of his siphon. You felt the added weight and goosebumps rose to your skin as he let the cold metal lay against your face.

“How does it feel?”

“Good.” Your mouth felt so heavy.

“Safe sign?”

“Two taps to slow down, three to stop.” You didn’t hesitate to answer, need rushing through you as he stood back up. His length right at your eye line. You felt saliva pool in your mouth.

He gave the leash a gentle tug, pulling your head back ever so slightly.

“Open.” You did immediately. But instead of his cock he leaned down again, hand squeezing your jaw open wider, and you felt his spit enter your mouth. You couldn’t even process the way it made your stomach clench before he was thrusting into your mouth. His spit makes his cock glide easily against your tongue. You kept your jaw lax, waiting for the command to close your lips around him. This was something you and Cassian had discussed a number of times. And it was even better than you imagined it could have been.

“Suck sweetheart. Show me what that pretty mouth can do.” And you did. You wrapped your lips around his thick length. Reveling in the weight of it against your tongue. A moan built in the back of your throat and was choked off with a sharp tug of the leash. He slipped all the way to the back of your throat. Thanks to years of practice, you took him with ease. He released some of the tension on the chain and you slid back, only for him to repeat the action again and again. Your cheeks were on fire at this point. Tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. The wonderful fuzzy feeling in your head told you just how hard he was fucking your mouth. You didn’t want it to end. You could feel him twitching in your mouth and it was too much. The burn between your thighs is too much to ignore. One of your hands snuck its way between your thighs and you had just slipped a finger inside of your weeping hole before he tugged the leash back. You whined at the feeling of his cum against your fingers.

“Fuck. Do you like my cock in your mouth that much?” He gritted out. A long string of spit connecting from your lips to his glistening member. You didn’t take your eyes off of it as you nodded your head. Nor did you stop the motion of your fingers.

“Words.” He tugged the leash up to make you look at him.

“Yes sir. I love it.” He shuddered at your words. As he took in your blown wide pupils, his cock twitched and you surged forward to wrap your lips around it again but he held tight onto the chain.

“Get on the bed.” He ordered and you pulled your fingers out of yourself slowly, feeling your walls clench around nothing. He pulled you up to your feet, a calloused hand resting under your arm as he let you get your feet underneath you. He tugged you over to the bed and helped you climb onto the bed. You were about to flip onto your back but a strong arm wrapped around your waist stopped you.

“Hands and knees.” He whispered into your ear. You felt a wave of slick coat your thighs as you arched your back for him. His hands rubbed up the back of your thighs, landing on your ass. You pushed back into his touch, savoring the warmth of his hands on your skin. He reached a hand between your legs and shoved a single finger into you. Your arms collapsed underneath you as he immediately found that spot inside of you. Your hips start to move on their own and you felt a tug on the leash, forcing you up onto your elbow again. You back arching even more as he held all your weight on that single chain. You panted as his fingers slowly stroked inside of you.

“Are you ready for me, sweet girl?”

“Yes. Please sir.” The words split off of your tongue and he was thrusting into you. The leash held you in place as he pounded into you. The sound of his hips hitting your ass filled the room. You could feel the way your thighs recoiled against the torturous pace. You were held in place, hips unable to push back, head held in the air. You reached a hand back, needing to feel your mate to ground you. He quickly intertwined your fingers, holding your hand. The gentleness of the action is a vast contrast to the way his trust speeds up. You were jolted forward with each frenzied push of his hips. You could feel every inch of him pushing your walls apart. You writhed under him, muscles shaking as you fought to keep yourself up. You gave a particularly hard jerk and you felt the tension on the leash drop and your face was against the pillow. You heard the sound of the chain hitting the bed under you and Cassian wrapped both of his hands around your thighs. He used the new position to pull you against him in time with his thrusts. Loud mewls being pulled from your lips. You were completely drunk on the feeling of him inside of you as you felt that knot build in you. It felt different from earlier. You struggled to get out the words to let Cassian know, but he always knew. He knew your body better than you at this point. He glided a hand over your stomach, pressing down on the soft flesh right above where he was inside you. The pressure had you screaming his name as your vision went white. You felt your release drip down your thighs, felt the way in leaked down around him. Cassian cursed before he whined above you.

“Look at you darling. You squirted for me.” His thrusts did not falter in the slightest. The lewd sounds of your wetness filled the room as you hummed against the pillow. Utterly fucked out. His pace stuttered once, twice and then a carnal growl left his lips as his hips stilled. You felt him empty himself inside of you. Staying fully sheathed inside of you as shudders wracked through his body. His hands were everywhere then. Rubbing all over your back, over your legs. He eventually pulled out of you and pulled you against his chest.

Quick kisses were peppered all over your face as his hand went to detach the leash from your necklace. You gave your neck a quick roll as the added weight was removed. His hands instantly come up to rub any added tension. He stepped out of the room long enough to grab a wet wash cloth and gently clean between your legs. Giving you a small kiss when you jumped from the additional stimulation. He threw the washcloth somewhere in the room before he pulled you into his arms again.

He laid you down on the bed, placing you on his chest. His hands are still rubbing small circles all over your skin. The perfect amount of pressure to bring you back down to earth.

“Thank you.” You whispered against his chest. He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Happy birthday, darling.” was the last thing you heard before his gentle breathing lulled you to sleep.

Taglist: @daycourtofficial @milswrites @ninthcircleofprythian @prythianpages @dawneternal @lady-of-tearshed @writingcroissant @readychilledwine @nocasdatsgay @velariscalling @tsunami-of-tears @stormhearty @utterlyazriel @historiaxvanserra @acotarxreader @illyrianbitch @itsswritten

#acotar fanfiction #acotar #acosf #acomaf #acowar #a court of thorns and roses #cassian #cassian acotar #cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian smut #cassian imagine #cassian fanfic #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #a court of wings and ruin #a court of mist and fury

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fleuraimer · 2 months

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tw!!! messy, unhealthy family dynamic depicted.

started watching the bear and now i can’t stop thinking abt boxer!carmy, like southpaw but the bear.

next part.

boxer!carmy who started fighting because he watched rocky every day after school as a child (because kids can be quite cruel, can’t they? twinkling eyes and gummy smiles, expressive and vivid, raw, but that vast imagination is no stranger to destruction.)

small for his age, and maybe he liked the color pink more than the rest of the boys in his class, but mikey always said, ‘let it rip, kid. real men wear pink.’ as he wiped his little brother’s tears with the pad of his baby smooth thumb, so carmy never paid it much mind (not until his 10th birthday was coming up and his dad asked him what he wanted the theme of his party to be. he’d told him he didn’t care, “as long as it’s pink, and has cake.” he earned the first ass whoopin’ that left enough bruises for his teachers to notice. “fell off my trampoline,” he’d told them. the berzatto’s didn’t have a trampoline).

boxer!carmy who joins a local gym in 7th grade, because what the fuck else is he supposed to do with all this pent up, boiling angst, festering inside his body, running through the ichor of his being. mom was always screaming, dad was always drinking, sugar was always crying, mikey was never even there anymore…

the gloves cradled his hands the way a family should, hushed the tremble like a mother would to a child. calm.

the sand-bang took away his burdens the way a family could, carried the weight of his agony on boney, worn shoulders the way a father would for his son.

he beat on the bag until his sweat puddled at the floor beneath him, lights flickering as the owner (eddie, a bitter old man that took in “fuckin’ heathens” and gave them a place to call home) silently watched on from his place by the switches.

boxer!carmy who graduates high school, but doesn’t go to college, decides to focus on boxing instead. had already been going to the gym 4 times a week, but now, with school out of the way, he’s there almost every day. he prefers it this way, honestly, away from all the noise and calamity of his home life (can’t listen to another second of mom screaming about how she could have been someone if they hadn’t ruined her life. we could’ve been something, you hear me? and you all fucked it! can’t take sugar’s crying, sad little weeps that chip at his integrity. can’t watch mikey stumble in again, high off this that and the other and gone as fast as he came. can’t understand dad’s carelessness, more concerned with a bottle of bourbon and the ‘ball game than his own children). it’s nice there, anyway—with showers and a kitchen, he’s got all he needs.

he fights day and night, so often that sometimes it’s easier to just sleep there (and after the third time eddie stopped yelling at him about it so he thinks that maybe he might be warming up to him), curled up next to the heater with a blanket and a pillow he stole from mikey’s bedroom (he always had the fluffiest pillows. and besides, it’s not like he’d even fucking notice). he trains so hard and so long that by the end of what would’ve been his freshman year of college, he’s 62-0 in all his rookie matches from january to then.

boxer!carmy who, with his team of nacho (ignacio, a heavyset, easily sweaty sparring partner), benny (a skinny, white medic with frameless, 90s era specs, a hoop earring in his left ear, and a toothpick always in his mouth), and eddie, signs up to go pro, and by some fuckin’ miracle, he gets the headline event of the year.

pushes his ass to work harder than ever before, prove to himself (and mikey and sugar and mom and dad) that he is fucking doing something with his life, more than they ever had, and more than they ever will.

he knocks his opponent out in the 5th round, all teeth and bones intact. cries in eddie’s arms like a big baby, but for once, eddie doesn’t gripe. hell, he’s probably crying too, as he weakly tightens his hold around carmy, and hushes his incessant blubbering. i know, son, i know. y’did it. y’can rest now.

wipes his own eyes as he turns to face the crowd (let it rip, kid), fists pumped in the air in a show of triumph, victory, bittersweet in the absence of those who are meant to see his glory and realize, finally, he is someone, someone worthy of praise and some fucking apologies for all shit he’s been through.

boxer!carmy who fought his way in the ring, and fights every damn day for his spot on the floor. picks up a few more things than championship belts along the way. fractured fingers and broken noses, cracked ribs and misplaced shoulders, popped knees. none in vein, of course. oh, no—god, no—carmen ‘carmy’ berzatto, the beast—the bear—hadn’t lost a single match since entering the professional boxing league.

boxer!carmy who fights the heavyweight championship of the world, and fucking wins, just to find out later that night, after an evening of food, wine, sex, and celebration, that his older brother, michael ‘mikey’ berzatto, shot himself in the fucking head (let it rip, kid).

boxer!carmy who stops fighting after that. for a while (thinks about drinking and screaming the way mom and dad did to cope, but settles for short breathing and night terrors, instead). he doesn’t talk to the family, doesn’t pick up anyone’s phone calls (they hadn’t spoken in years (because he never picked up the fucking phone calls) and now suddenly because mikey’s dead everyone wants to fucking reconnect?), just comfortably sits in his big penthouse apartment, wallows and wonders on what could’ve been.

boxer!carmy who doesn’t touch a pair of boxing gloves for nearly 6 months, because what’s the point? but then, some little pussy decides to come and challenge carmy for his heavyweight title. he was in no mood, really. michael fucking died, he could kill somebody, for christ’s sake. but, even as a kid (the fuckin’ crybaby)—gettin’ picked on by his classmates for usin’ the pink chalk to draw on the pavement—carmy never really did know when to shut his fucking mouth.

he accepts the dickhead’s challenge, timothy grayson, after the second time he says some over the top, arrogant, macho white-trash bullshit on live fucking television (spews off some real intellect about never giving up fighting for anything or anyone, when he doesn’t even fucking know what happened. carmy’s fuckin’ angry, so angry he doesn’t notice the pretty broad beside him, not really, to busy picturing tommy’s or timmy’s or whatever the fuck his name is face beneath his fists).

boxer!carmy who sets up a pay-per-view fight against timmy boy to defend his heavyweight championship.

boxer!carmy who picks up his gloves again and feels the cradle and coo of a mother. fits the laces just right, finds his bag, and when he throws a right hook, feels his burdens being lifted from his back, protected and brave under the shield of a father.

this is who he is.

carmen ‘carmy’ berzatto.

the beast.

the bear.

boxer!carmy who shows up to the pre fight weigh-in at his absolute best physical form, ready to fucking devour timothy on a silver platter.

boxer!carmy who goes up to on the stage after timmy—nacho, benny, and eddie by his side (plus the others accumulated along the years) thoughts calm over the roar of blasphemy being shouted at him. quitter! pussy! fuckin’ pansy bitch! (we could’ve been something, you hear me?)

he keeps his head down as he walks up the steps on the side of the stage, eddie’s hand settled on his right shoulder; grounding. and yet, as his eyes begin to lift from the ground beneath his feet, eddie’s grip on him doesn’t stop carmy from feeling like he’s floating 25 feet above the floor.

perfect, pointed, pink stilettos catch carmy’s eye, open toed with and big, chiffon-esque bow placed across the strap. his eyes trail higher.

deep, caramel skin, glinted in gold accents, fitting over knuckles and bangling from wrists. a mini skirt (shorter than usual, too short) to match the heels, and a skin tight, square neck top to accentuate a sharp, smooth collarbone. a couple stacked necklaces, some (unnecessary) cherry wine hued specs, and a sweet ribbon hanging from long, wistful curls, in that same damned pink.

his blue irises don’t stop fucking flitting around this unknown, ethereal figure until they land on a pair of rich, brown sugar eyes.

oh, jesus fuckin’ christ.

boxer!carmy who can’t keep his eyes off the pretty broad in pink for the rest of the show. he stands taller for her. flexes harder for her, puffs his chest with pride when his weight qualifies by a mile and a minute as the announcers read it from the scale. and the whole time, she’s lookin’ at him. fuckin timothy.

boxer!carmy who gets close to timmy when it’s time to showdown, closer than he has with anyone else. timmy’s yappin’, but it’s in one ear and out the other, nothin’ carmy ain’t heard before (could probably be considered kind in comparison).

he waits ‘til his trash talk subsides. until the silence he let bloom tangled with any single sliver of panic timmy might feel, and watches as it twists onto his ugly mug, brows furrowing. confused.

the corner of his lip lifts, and he holds timmy’s eye. “nice broad. pretty in pink, s’that your little girlfriend?” timmy’s stare hardens, but that deters carmy none. “quite the looker, shame she’s stuck next to your ugly fuckin’ mug—“

“keep her fuckin’ name out of you—“

“or what grayson? huh? can’t do shit now, can’t do shit after i whoop yo’ ass in the fight, and can’t do shit after y’pretty girlfriend dumps y’r s’rry ass because’a it.” nose to nose, breathing jagged, frustrated, a silence settles over them that speaks louder than any rebuttal timmy might’ve had.

carmy manages to press him further.

“i’m going to crush you, timmy. like a fuckin’ bug under my shoe. and after, i’m gonna take y’cute broad right over there back to my hotel suite, and fuck her like she wishes you could.”

boxer!carmy who walks off that stage with a bloody nose and a sore shoulder. but timmy left with a broken nose, an off set jaw, and crunched nuts.

he smiles as he stumbles down the stage steps, leaning into nacho and benny, a sense of dejà vu plaguing him as he recalls a shitfaced mikey falling through the doors of his childhood home (let it rip). but he’s swiftly pulled back into the real world when his eyes lock on a certain pair of wide, brown sugar, cherry red wine framed ones.

with a leaking nose and blood pooling at the seam of his lips, carmy grins, and shoots the pretty broad a wink.

———

a/n: can’t get him out of my head 🌚🧍🏽‍♀️

loosely edited/proofread!!

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wlntrsldler · 7 months

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heartless | luke castellan

MDNI!!!!!!

fuckboy! luke (kinda) but also kind of loser!luke a little bit. enemies to lovers (more of sexual tension really); not canon, no betrayal, and pokes fun of aphrodite girls but yk i love them, this is just for the plot. ares!reader x luke castellan.

i. never need a bitch, i'm what a bitch need, tryna find the one that can fix me; i've been dodging death in the six-speed.

there were many things about being a half-blood that luke hated. having a deadbeat father ranks highly on the list, obviously, and the lack of exposure to the real world was up there, too. he ran away from camp once during the year when there weren’t many kids around. it was right after his eighteenth birthday when he thought that his life would magically change for the better now that he beat the odds (sue him for being hopeful), but when the clock hit midnight and he was still stuck on his cramped, cot in the corner of the hermes cabin, he decided enough was enough.

he did his final cabin checks and left camp after, wandering aimlessly until he found the train station to take him straight to the city. he hopped over the turnstile and squeezed himself into the crowded subway car. the first thing that struck luke was how different each group of people was from each other. in one corner, there were businessmen in itchy suits, trying to check out the group of girls across from them, clearly dressed for a night out. luke scoffed at them, smirking to himself when one of the men flushed in embarrassment at the fact that luke caught him.

what a fucking loser, luke thought.

there was a girl around luke’s age, sneaking glances at him. she was pretty; blonde, pouty-lipped, and definitely interested. at this point, luke hadn’t been experienced. other than the aphrodite girls flirting with him and the occasional hazed and rushed makeout sessions during the campfires, luke hadn’t done anything with anyone. but if he can make the daughters of the goddess of love blush, surely it couldn’t be that difficult to make a mortal fall under his charm too.

he was right.

he shot her one of his signature smirks, feeling a sense of pride bloom in his chest when she had to grab onto the pole in front of her to keep steady. luke adjusted the navy sweater he had on, tugging on the collar a bit to show off a little skin. his silver necklace sat nicely on his neck and he watched subway girl’s eyes rake over his body. luke bit his bottom lip, motioning for the girl to take the empty seat beside him. her eyes widened, but she did what she was told.

unfortunately, reality caught up with him quickly when a hellhound found him as he was exiting the subway car with the pretty girl (jessie? jane? janet? he doesn’t remember.) around his arm. luke castellan was a lot of things, but a killer wasn’t one of them, so he made some stupid excuse to the girl about why he had to leave just so he could keep her safe. (it killed him to do it. he’s a teenage boy. he has needs.) the girl walked away, upset, huffing to her friends about how he wasted her time and got her hopes up. luke just rolled his eyes and dislodged his small knife from his pocket sitting beside his half-smoked cigarette box, ready to take on the hellhound.

“you couldn’t wait ‘til i at least got to second base?” luke cringed, partly at himself for talking to the hellhound like it could talk back to him. “had to show up right now, huh, buddy?”

he received a growl in return.

the fight wasn’t too terrible, but after the hellhound whimpered, walking away in defeat, luke was too tired to continue his exploration of the real world. he hopped on the train back to camp, clutching the scratch the hellhound left on him. his (only nice piece of clothing) navy sweater was ruined. the thread was falling apart where the hellhound dug its claws in and it was stained with his blood. he would’ve fought better and avoided the injury if his balls weren’t fucking blue.

luke closed his eyes, breathing heavily. even though it was only for a few minutes, the idea of being a regular teenager, flirting with girls, going to clubs, drinking cheap tequila from a plastic bottle, was something luke yearned for. he only got to experience a fraction of it. he wanted to experience it more, preferably without testing death each time.

the older kids heard of luke’s adventure when they saw the counselor walking into the apollo cabin the following morning to get his wounds treated. he made a note to never tell chris anything again because the boy couldn’t keep his mouth shut if he tried. by lunch, the entire camp, including chiron and mr. d, heard about luke’s unplanned visit to the city and his interaction with one of hades’ guards.

“luke.”

he turned around, eyebrows furrowed, then raised in surprise. in front of him were three aphrodite girls, pouting at him. he crossed his arms across his chest, smirking, “what’s up, gorgeous?”

“heard you went looking for some fun last night.”

“are we not good enough for you, luke?”

“why would you go looking for better when you have the best right here in camp?”

luke wanted to laugh. the aphrodite girls were always so bold with their words, but when it came down to the wire, they would never want to disappoint their mom by being with the golden boy-turned-teenage dirtbag. he respected it, though. their allegiance to their mom was admirable. if aphrodite was his godly parent and she gave him the power to always be attractive, he didn’t think he’d do anything to piss her off either.

“why do you think i came back?” luke flirted, running a hand through his curls, “realized there was nobody like you.”

the three girls blushed and giggled, even if none of them knew who his comment was actually directed toward. they waved goodbye to him, and he watched them walk away, admiring the view.

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

luke couldn’t stop his lips from quirking upwards at the sound of your voice, “what now, y/n?”

you and luke had been at each other’s throats since you first got to camp half-blood. you, as the daughter of ares, one of his favorites coming only second to clarisse, pushed luke’s buttons like no other. you walked into camp and immediately saw through his boy-next-door facade and saw him for who he truly was. usually, luke would hate you for it, but now, it was hard for him not to think about shutting you up in other ways. less friendly ways, but if he had his ways, just as harsh.

the rivalry began when you were fourteen. the title of best swordsman bounced between the two of you over the years. luke currently has the title, but it was only because he cheated; he swears he’s just better, but there’s no universe where you’d actually admit luke castellan was better than you at something. the five seconds between you being chosen to be head counselor for the ares cabin and him being chosen as the head counselor for the hermes cabin were the best five seconds of your life. it was the only time you held a higher position than him.

luke quite enjoyed your little banter (when you weren’t around to ruin his game). it only got better when he had his huge growth spurt and you could no longer reach things when he held it up over his head. when you didn’t talk and run your mouth (usually cursing at him or cursing him), luke thought you might even be cute. he loved making you turn red, even if it was out of pure anger over his antics, but his favorite is when he gets you tongue-tied because his dirty, teenage brain makes him say something before he thinks.

“there’s no way that actually worked on them.”

“take a look for yourself,” luke motioned to the group of girls who were now whispering and shooting heart eyes at him. “it always works.”

“oh, get your head out your ass, castellan,” you spat.

“spitting is not going to get you the reaction you might think,” luke smirked, eyeing you up and down. your eyes widened and you looked away from him to hide the redness of your cheeks. like that. luke licked his lips, “might actually have the opposite effect on me.”

“you’re disgusting.”

luke let out a full belly laugh as you walked away from him. sure, there were some pretty shitty things about camp half-blood, but there were some pretty great things there too, and messing with you is on the top of his list.

ii. hundred models gettin' faded in the compound, tryna love me but they never get a pulse down.

“do you guys always fight like this?”

you and luke peeled your eyes away from each other at the sound of percy’s voice. the poor boy was looking between his two mentors, torn because he had no idea who to listen to. you sighed, walking over to him.

you placed a hand on his shoulder, “sorry, percy. luke is just… forget it, let’s just try it one more time, yeah?”

“luke is just what?” luke asked, an eyebrow raised in a challenge. “finish your sentence, y/n. c’mon.”

“the words i’d like to use wouldn’t be appropriate for a twelve-year-old to hear.”

“‘m from new york, i probably heard it already,” percy shrugged, pausing. “come to think of it, i probably used it before.”

luke let out a chuckle, patting percy on the back. “my man.”

“can you not encourage cussing, head counselor?”

“fine, i guess you’re just gonna have to tell me what you were going to say later. in private.”

“castellan,” you smacked his chest. hard. you were furious with luke, but you couldn’t help but flush at his suggestive words, “don’t start.”

percy frowned, “i don’t get it.”

luke took mercy on you and wrapped an arm around the boy. he led percy away, promising to continue working on his sword skills later after capture the flag. before they disappeared from your view, luke made sure to turn around to shoot you a wink. you flipped him off in return.

it wasn’t always like this between you and luke. once upon a time, your banters were innocent, like kids fighting over the last piece of candy in the jar. luke literally used to pull your hair when he was behind you in the line for food and you used to stick your foot out to trip him when he was playing tag with his siblings.

but then, he returned from his quest. at first, you felt bad for him. he came back unable to complete it, and he was permanently scarred from it. it must’ve been difficult to have that constant reminder. after a few months, though, when his scar was almost fully healed, the whispers about how attractive luke castellan was started. luke closed himself off after his quest and spent his time doing extra training. you could lie and say that all the extra workouts didn’t do wonders for him, but nobody would believe you anyway.

in short, luke castellan got hot. he was no longer the pesky little boy you bantered with. he got taller, broader, and dirtier. you weren’t dumb, you knew the innuendos that he would throw at you. you were in the same sex ed class as he was in. (side note: mr. d teaching teenagers about sex ed was your own personal version of hell. tartarus be damned.) somehow, luke turned into a teenage heartthrob at camp and all of a sudden, all the girls were throwing themselves at him. it made you sick, but what made you more sick, was that you understood why.

ever since luke’s confidence skyrocketed and he leaned into his bad boy persona, there was a different charge in your banter; as if instead of trying to push your buttons, now, he was trying to get you under him. from blowing his cigarette smoke directly into your direction to all his dirty comments, luke castellan was acting like he wanted you. and surprisingly, you didn’t stop him.

“can y’all just fuck already?” you spun around to find clarisse leaning against a tree, her spear mounted on the floor. she had a teasing smile on her lips, “maybe once you hate-fuck, you guys will get it out your systems.”

“ew, castellan?” you sneered. your nose scrunched up in disgust, though your stomach churned at the thought of it. “never in a million years.”

“dude, the sexual tension between you guys is insane,” she shrugged, walking over to you. “come on, sis, you can’t pretend like you don’t feel it.”

“i feel a lot of things for luke castellan, but wanting to fuck him is not one of them.”

you’re a liar. you knew that. clarisse knew that. but you’re thankful that your sister didn’t call you out on your bullshit.

she laughed, “whatever you say. now, ready to train me?”

you spun your sword around expertly, “always.”

this week’s game of capture the flag was eventful. you lost, much to your dismay, but the results of the game were overshadowed by poseidon claiming percy as his kid. the subject of forbidden kids were a touchy subject, for obvious reasons, but you knew that it was especially hard for luke. you didn’t know thalia well, but with how often annabeth talked about her, you felt like you knew her.

luke never talked about thalia, though. you figured it was because it was too painful for him to think about. he knew her longer than annabeth did and his memories of her were much more vivid than the young girl’s. with percy being poseidon’s kid, you knew that it was bound to bring up some unwanted memories for the hermes counselor. but what shocked you was seeing luke sitting with his siblings at the campfire instead of being surrounded by fawning girls like he usually was. whenever his team won, he would bask in the glory of the win, shotgunning smoke into the mouth of whoever was closest to him before disappearing for a bit only to come back with marks all over his neck.

but tonight, he was sitting next to chris, a beer can in his hand, staring directly at you. the red cup in your hand filled with mysterious liquor was cold to the touch. clarisse was trying to hide the smile on her face as she watched you and luke lock eyes. she mumbled a fake excuse, running away to leave you alone while she tried to find silena. luke chugged the rest of his beer before crushing the can in his hand and walking over to you.

you stood your ground, feet planted on the floor, with your arms folded across your chest. “no celebration tonight castellan?”

“not unless you want to celebrate with me,” he replied.

“shut the fuck up,” you sighed.

luke watched as your arms pushed your tits up your chest. he couldn’t stop himself from biting his lip, watching your chest rise and fall as you took your breaths. he was almost tempted to burn his toast tomorrow morning just to thank the gods that you decided to wear a low-cut shirt tonight. your camp necklace was resting on top of your tits and he wanted to reach over and count the beads on your necklace. four, just one less than he has.

“i love that you’re a sore loser,” he said, pulling out the cigarette that was tucked behind his ear. “makes it so easy to mess with you.”

“‘m not a sore loser,” you argued, absentmindedly pulling out the lighter in your pocket.

he was surprised by your actions. he knew you smoked, but you’d never smoked with him before. he pulled out a cigarette for you which you gladly took. you lit yours first then leaned over for him to light his own. luke shook his head, bringing up his index finger for you to come closer. he lit his cigarette with the burning end of yours, humming in appreciation when the nicotine hit his senses.

“you are,” he blew out the smoke, “but it’s adorable.”

“flirting with me isn’t gonna get you very far, castellan. you should know this by now.”

“what, you want me to be mean to you?” luke said it teasingly, but then he saw your shoulders freeze for a millisecond. he chuckled, darkly, voice dropping an octave when he spoke again. “holy shit, you’re into that.”

“none of your fucking business,” you shook your head, thankful that you had at least one substance already in your system to keep you from turning red.

“it’s hot, y/n, own it,” he shrugged his shoulders, turning a bit to face the rest of the campers. all of the younger kids were off in their own world. they knew better than to hang out with the older kids at these things. he had a cocky smile on his face when he turned to you again, “i can be mean, if you want, y’know. just say the word.”

you downed the drink, needing some sort of liquid courage if you were going to keep this conversation going. clarisse and silena were watching you and luke a few feet away and you can tell by their faces that they weren’t going to come save you from the conversation even if you begged them to. “that kind defeats the purpose, no?”

“what do you mean?”

you wiped the drop of liquor away from the corner of your lips, “having to ask you to be mean. you should just be mean without me asking.”

luke’s eyes darkened. sure, he flirted with you, but you never kept up with him before. you usually tell him to fuck off and walk away, leaving him with a head full of images of your red, embarrassed face, to keep him occupied at night. “noted.”

you shoved the empty cup into his chest, taking a puff out of your cigarette before walking away, “no need to take notes, castellan. i know you’re all talk anyway.”

iii. 'cause i'm heartless and i'm back to my ways 'cause i'm heartless.

luke was pissed. you can tell by the way his shoulders were tense. you just disarmed him during practice, the tip of your sword resting comfortably under his jaw. the title was yours again.

“say you surrender,” you taunted, pushing the sword just a little deeper on his skin, but not enough to cause any damage, “say you surrender and i’ll let you leave with some dignity.”

“this doesn’t count,” he replied, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “i was distracted.”

and he was. you took your shirt off, leaving you in a sports bra, at around the third sparring session. the sun was beating down harshly on the both of you and the lack of a breeze in the air didn’t help. your chest was glistening with sweat and you were breathing heavily. luke took his eyes away from your moves for a second to look at your figure and you took advantage of it.

“no excuses, castellan,” you lifted his face up with your sword, “surrender.”

“fine,” he relented. he got up from his knees when you removed the sword from his jaw, “i surrender.”

“good.” you twirled your sword in your hand, walking away from him to grab a sip of water. your back was turned and luke couldn’t help but let his eyes trail down the curve of your spine. your muscles were defined, no doubt due to the hours of sparring you just did, and your hair cascaded perfectly down when you pulled it out of the ponytail you had it in. he wanted to wrap it around his fist and pull it.

“fuck,” he groaned, trying to push down his hardening cock in his cargo pants. the action didn’t do anything to help. it was no use.

“what was that?” you tossed the bottle of water on the ground as you turned to face him. your eyes widened as you took in the image in front of you. luke was staring at you, lips slightly parted, hair in disarray as if he just ran his hand through it, and his pants were tight around his dick. “luke…”

fuck it, he thought.

“shut up.”

luke marched over to you, grabbing your face with a force that knocked you off balance. it was disorienting feeling his lips hungrily over yours because it felt so damn good. his hands migrated from your face down to your ass, gripping it and massaging the flesh so he could push you closer to him. you could feel his hard cock poking against your skin and you moaned at the feeling. luke wanted to bottle the sound so he could listen to it whenever he wanted to.

he pushed you against a tree, grinding his aching hips against yours. he could feel your wetness growing against his pants. he pulled away from your lips, turning your face to the side to give himself access to your neck. he licked a stripe up your jugular, mixing his saliva with the sweat on your skin. he started his attack on your neck, nipping, sucking, licking, everywhere he could. you couldn’t help but whimper at his actions.

against your better judgment, you pulled him away by threading your fingers through his curls. his eyes were closed, mouth agape when he knocked his forehead against yours. you tugged on the hair by the nape of his neck, “you’re not fucking me, luke.”

“fuck, okay,” he breathed out. he was horny, but he respected your wishes.

“not today,” you placed a chaste kiss on his lips before pulling away. his lips followed yours, but you tutted, “but you can watch me if you let me watch you.”

“yes,” his eyes snapped open, moving away from you to give you space.

“come here,” you walked away from him, motioning him to come to the patch of grass secluded from the training area. he followed you, hissing as he tried to adjust himself in his pants. you lay on the grass, propping yourself up on your elbows. your hand slowly trailed down to your pants before you dipped your finger inside your underwear. your back arched as you felt how wet you were from the earlier interaction with luke.

luke sat at your feet, undoing his pants. he pulled out his cock; red, dripping, and angry. he felt his confidence rise when you moaned at the sight of it. his veiny hand was wrapped at the base of his cock, slowly pumping. his voice was broken as he spoke, “let me see you.”

for a moment, you were vulnerable, hesitating to expose everything to him. but luke’s face showed nothing but desire and you melted under his gaze. you shimmied out of your pants, tossing them somewhere near, before opening your legs for him to see you. your fingers pulled apart your folds, showing him your slick-covered pussy.

“prettiest fucking pussy in the world,” he groaned, watching as you circled your clit. “fucking perfect, y/n.”

his words spurred you on. you dipped two fingers inside, mewling at the stretch. luke flicked the tip of his dick, moaning at how your fingers disappeared as you pumped them inside you. he can hear your wetness loud and clear and he wanted nothing more than to slurp it up with his tongue, but he can be patient. this can be enough for now.

his hand moved faster on his dick, the muscles on his arm tensing with each stroke. he watched as you threw your head back in pleasure, admiring the marks he left on your skin. a feeling of possessiveness bloomed in his chest knowing that he marked you.

“want a taste?”

luke nodded, crawling over to your outstretched fingers while still pumping his cock. his lips hollowed to suck off your juices from your fingers, eyes closing at the sweet taste. his tongue danced between your fingers, licking them clean. you watched in awe as he hungrily sucked off your fingers. there were beads of sweat trickling down the edge of his face, his curls were sticky on his forehead, and there was a look of pure bliss on his features.

“so sweet,” he whispered, letting your fingers go with a pop. “fuck, y/n.”

“luke,” you panted, continuing to get yourself off. “i’m close.”

“give it to me,” he said. his voice was nearly gone. “need it.”

there was something about luke castellan begging you to cum for him that made your head spin. you came, hard, all over your fingers while he watched you come undone. the image of you cumming, the whisper of his name leaving your lips, was going to be burned into his memory forever.

“i’m coming,” luke groaned, the veins in his neck popping out as he gritted his teeth. “open up.”

you moved closer to him, leaning down with your tongue out for him. he pumped his cock until white spurts covered your pink, patient tongue. he wanted to take a picture of you right now for later. eyes closed, makeup on your face ruined, hickeys on your neck on full display while his cum coated your tongue. you were a wet dream come to life.

luke gripped blades of grass with his other hand, trying to steady himself as he watched you swallow his load. when you opened your eyes, you opened your mouth to show him you didn’t waste a drop, and luke couldn’t do anything else but kiss you to show his appreciation.

you had avoided luke after your training session. you didn’t know what got into you doing that with him, but one thing was for sure, the tension didn’t disappear after it. it just got worse.

everywhere you went, you felt his eyes following your every move. he would stare at you, eyes narrowed, during classes or during meals. but he never did anything.

until he lost at capture the flag. you skipped the celebration, opting to stay alone in the ares cabin to avoid running into luke. the whole situation left you with so many questions that you were afraid to get the answer to. you fucked yourself in front of luke. and you liked it. there hasn’t been a day since when you didn’t think about his cock and how it would feel inside of you. it was getting pitiful how often you got off thinking about him. his sounds, his face when he came, his taste. everything.

you were getting ready for bed when you heard the door of the ares cabin slam open. you turned your head, eyes widening, when you saw luke walking towards you, kicking the door shut. he didn’t break eye contact with you as he reached the foot of your bed.

he licked his lips, “you’re avoiding me.”

“i’m not,” you lied, tugging your blanket up to cover yourself. “was just too tired to celebrate.”

“bullshit,” he ripped the blanket away from your body, “you want mean, right? i can give you mean.”

you pushed your thighs together, making him smirk.

luke got on your bed, his knees on either side of you. he pushed his head into the crook of your neck, leaving rough kisses on your skin. your hands flew up to his hair, pulling softly, “my pretty girl won’t betray me.”

it took you a minute to realize that he wasn’t talking about you. his fingers rubbed on your clit over your pajama shorts, making you arch into him. you whimpered, “luke, please.”

“nuh uh,” he pulled away from your neck, “you don’t get to say please, anymore. you’re gonna take my dick until i’m done.”

luke connected your lips. his lips were relentless against yours, tongue forcing its way into your mouth. he groaned at the feeling of your hand reaching down to palm him. he grinded his hips into your hand, lips sloppily crashing against yours. luke put all his weight on one arm, using the other one to lightly wrap his fingers around your throat. he did an experimental squeeze, growing harder when you moaned in pleasure at the pressure.

clothes were flying off both of your bodies after that. your pants drowned out the faint hum of the campers away at the campfire. luke pulled away from your lips, marking your neck again. the hickeys he left you were already fading and he hated not seeing the remnants of his time with you on your skin. he trailed the hickeys down your body, spending extra time on your plush thighs. he pried your legs open, sighing in content when your pussy welcomed his thick fingers.

he pressed his tongue against your folds, closing his eyes at the sounds of pleasure that left your lips. his lips wrapped around your bud, sucking, until you were lifting your hips up. he placed an arm across your stomach, pressing down on you to keep you still. from where you were lying, you could only see his eyes. his eyes were boring into yours, watching your reaction to learn what you liked. when his tongue darted inside of you, touching that spongy part, your face contorted in unparalleled pressure and luke knew that he needed to keep hitting that spot.

you were a mess under him. you’ve never came before unless it was your own doing, but you were dangerously close to the edge with how luke was eating your pussy. he was determined to have your wetness coat his tongue. he’d been dreaming of tasting you since you last let him. he’d been craving it.

when your thighs pressed against the side of his head, he knew it was coming. he used his thumb to draw figure eights on your clit. you came with a cry, his name repeating off your lips like a mantra, like a prayer.

luke pulled away from your pussy, wiping the wetness on his chin away with his forearm. he pumped his cock in his hand a few times, hissing at the pain of it being forgotten.

“luke,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. you clung onto him like a lifeline. “give me a second.”

he took in your state. all fucked out just from his tongue. his jaw ticked, “been givin’ you space for days, don’t think you deserve any more.”

“fuck!” you cried as his dick entered you. luke had to shut his eyes to keep himself from cumming. your pussy was so tight and so wet and so greedy for his cock. he pushed all the way in, stopping for a moment to catch his breath.

“perfect fucking pussy, like i said,” luke’s voice was hoarse as he thrusted into you. his hand grabbed one of your tits, flicking the hardened bud with his fingers. he continued to snap his hips into you as he leaned down to your ear, “been thinking about fucking you dumb with my cock.”

“been-ah- thinking about it too,” you admitted, cheeks growing red at his words. you were clawing at his back, no doubt leaving marks, “been touching myself thinking about you.”

“looks like you’re the one who’s all talk, y/n,” he was going faster now, reveling in the sounds that your connected bodies were making with each push of his cock. reminders of your first orgasm were all over his base. “made me watch you fuck your perfect pussy, then-fuck- avoiding me.”

“didn’t think you were serious with your words.”

luke pulled out of you completely. you got a good look at him for the first time. his nostrils were flared, chest heaving as he pumped his cock in his hand. he made a noise, “seems like i’m not doing my job right.”

you reached out for him, pussy tightening around nothing, “huh?”

“you’re still being smart,” luke grabbed your hips then and turned you around. you arched your back for him, giving him a view of your ass. he rubbed his hands over the flesh, slapping it. he pushed your head down on your pillow, wrapping your messy hair around his fist. he leaned over to whisper in your ear, “told you, i wanted to fuck you dumb on my cock.”

he thrusted into you with fervor, skin slapping as he took you from behind. luke watched as your ass bounced sinfully against him as he pushed his cock deeper into you. with this angle, he can can push into you more easily. he was on his knees, holding your hips flush against his body. the sounds you were making as his cock found your pussy were delicious.

you were incoherent then, mumbling into your pillow, begging for him to keep going. luke wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon. when your second orgasm of the night came crashing down, you screamed luke’s name loudly.

he came inside you, ropes of milky cum coating your gummy walls. he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily as he moved your hair away to place kisses on your back.

when you both got dressed, luke left a lingering kiss on your raw lips. he left one last hickey on the side of your jaw, “training. tomorrow. don’t be late.”

#frances writes #frances song fics #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #i need water

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magics-neptunes-things · 3 months

Text

Only One

Hi guys!

So this is a short one coming from a request I had several weeks ago.

I hope you will all like it and please let me know what you think about it! Also my box for request is very open ☺️

Enjoy!

TW : None, it’s just fluff honestly

Jana and you were both young when you met her. You were around 13 years old and when you move from Valencia to Barcelona, you find yourself in Jana’s class. She wasn’t the first who came to talk to you, being a little shy. But you can’t hold it against her, you were shy yourself and you didn’t want to bother anyone.

But soon you started to talk, and you find that you have a lot in common. Unless that she was a huge fan of football while you literally preferred staying at home with a good book and listening to music. Jana was already training at “La Masia” when you met her and when she invites you to come to one of her games, you gladly accept.

You remember being impressed by the level of those girls, fighting for the ball and the game. You were scared for Jana at first before realizing that she was one of the best. You were really proud of her, and you didn’t hesitate to tell her when she came to you after the game.

You were passing all your day after school with her, studying while she was training before going to her home in the afternoon. You sometimes sleep at her home but not a lot because your parents will sometimes remember you that “you are not living in a hotel!”.

Your first kiss happened one summer night on the beach during your summer break. You remember how much you were nervous before pressing your lips against hers, scared that you will ruin everything that was existing between you. Because Jana was your everything in your fifteen years old world.

You are not fifteen anymore, but Jana is still your everything.

You are still together, of course, still living in Barcelona. Jana chose to follow her dreams to become a footballer and even if you didn’t understand at first who the hell is that Alexia Putellas who took your girlfriend under her wings and what in the world she wanted from her, you are now the proudest girlfriend in the world.

It wasn’t easy for Jana to make her place in Barcelona Femeni A team, but she’s now a part of the family. You are both very focused in your professional life, Jana in her sport and you were studying to become pediatrician. It was hard because you don’t really have the same timetable at first, so having time together was very complicated. It was strange honestly, because you were used to be with her every single hour of the day when you were both at school and now you have to fight to be able to have lunch with her.

But then she asks you to move in with her and it was better. Your first apartment was very little. Located at the top of a building, under the roof, you had managed to fit a sofa, a TV, a wardrobe and a kitchen-dining area in a single room. Separate from the bathroom. But you were together and that was all you wanted. You loved this place, it was messy and small, but it was yours and it was perfect.

And, at least, you were seeing her every night, unless she’s in other part of the country for a game. You go to see her playing as much as possible, always wearing the jersey with her name and number on it. You are known as Jana’s girlfriend in the team and the girls like you very much too.

You have move in another apartment now, though. Bigger, you have your bedroom separate of the living room and you have a guest room where you putted your desk and computer to study.

You usually study or work when Jana is at training but tonight you lost track of time. You have a big thing to write for the end of the week and you are scared not to be able to finish it. Totally focused on your work, you didn’t hear Jana coming back home.

You almost jump out of your skin when the silhouette of your girlfriend appears on the door of your office.

“Sorry Baby, I didn’t want to scare you” she excuse herself while joining you inside the room. “Are you ok?”

“I’m ok” you smile at her, kissing her softly when she sits on your lap. “How was training?”

“It was great. Have you eaten something?”

“Not really” you answer, scratching the back of your head.

It was your turn to make diner tonight and it’s almost eight o’clock. And you are not sure about what you will find in your fridge. Jana might be starving after running and exercising all the afternoon while you were studying and you really feel guilty.

“I’m so sorry Amor, I didn’t realize it was so late. I’m going to start cooking right now.”

You close your computer while trying to stand up, kind of startling Jana with your abrupt movements. She just has time to grab you by your arm, making you stay still. With her 1m62 Jana is smaller than you but thanks to her exercises she’s stronger than you.

“Breath Baby, it’s ok. I will cook for us, why don’t you go take a bath or something? You look very tense.”

“But it’s my turn” you frown.

“You can cook two times next week” Jana shrugs.

She cups your jaw in her hand, and you could literally melt right now. You are still feeling guilty though, she just had training all day.

“Can we at least order something? So I can pay and you don’t have to cook? Please.”

She seems to hesitate for several seconds, but you give her your best puppy eyes and she finally accept. Not without rolling her eyes. After ordering some pizza, you were thinking about waiting for them in front of television. But Jana seems to have another idea.

She takes you by the hand once again, but to go to your bedroom this time. Without saying one word, she pushes you on your bed before sitting on your lap.

“Have we really time for that?” you smirk, looking at her leaning on her nightstand.

“Silence, you pervert” she smirks putting a finger on your lips. “Close your eyes.”

Still smiling, you close your eyes.

“Can I at least know what will happen to me?”

“Nothing wild. I’m just going to take care of you, that’s all.”

That doesn’t help a lot, but soon Jana is moving, and she just announce you that she will put something wet on your face before doing it. She is very tender while washing your face before putting different types of cream and moister on your face. You let her do it, loving to feel her hands on your face.

She’s so lightweight that you almost don’t feel her sitting on your belly. But you can smell her perfume and you feel yourself being completely relax. You are almost asleep when she kisses your hair, announcing that she’s finish.

“Hug now” you reach for her.

Jana cuddle against you without a second thought and you pass your arms around her to hug her harder.

“How was training mi Amor?” you ask, realizing with guilt that you didn’t even in the first place.

“It was great! I mean, until Mapi…”

You smile, listening her talk about her teammate’s behavior. She then switches for another story, and you keep listening. You take the opportunity to look at her, your cute and precious girlfriend not realizing that you totally are starring at her without really listening. You are together for seven years now, getting together pretty young. But you are still so in love with her, and you don’t want that feeling to fade away.

She was explaining Barca’s next strategy when the bell rings, announcing the arrival of your pizzas. You escape Jana’s arms to go take them before going in the living room.

“What do you want to watch?” Jana asks, looking in your Netflix account to find something.

“I don’t care” you shrug, opening the boxes.

Jana rolls her eyes but manages to find something, before sitting next to you and pick a part of pizza. She seems so relax and happy that you feel your heart pounding harder just while looking at her. She’s just so perfect.

Well, until…

“Jana Fernández Velasco , please tell me this isn’t pineapple on your pizza.”

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #jana fernandez #jana fernandez x reader #jana fernandez imagine

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cilliansmesoftly · 2 months

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like a wrecking ball

pairing: john/buck egan x fem!reader

summary: you send buck sensual photos while he’s stationed

warning: talk of nude photos, dirty talk, sensual letters, inaccuracies about war, smut, oral (first time munching box 🐱) (fem! receiving), overstimulation, etc.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ what started off as marge taking pictures of you getting ready for a party, putting on lipstick and fluffing up your hair, ended with you asking marge if you could borrow her camera for a couple of days to take some photos for buck.

it was all in good fun. some ones with you crossed eyed, smiling, goofy and carefree. however, something possessed you to slip the strap of your dress off your shoulder click take the clip from your hair, letting down your loose, soft hair click and snap the clasp from your bra click.

you don’t know what came over you. you took over fifteen pictures in sensual poses, as if posing for a professional boudoir photoshoot. gosh, if anyone ever saw these, you thought. they’d have me carted off to the brothel or put into an asylum.

and what’s worse than that, you’d mustered up the courage to actually send them! with your stationary neatly stacked at your desk, your ink pen furiously wrote to your deployed lover.

My Love, I hear the war is getting harder. There’s no telling what you have to attest to that statement, they say Germany is killing our Air Force and I can’t help but to think of you. Fighting your hardest, having trouble sleeping at night, losing friends, losing family.

And even in all of this, I still feel sorry for myself for missing you. Everyone notices how miserable I am without you here. Without your touch, your smile, your kiss. Golly, even my mother visits! And you know how she is with me and boys, totally mentally insane.

Anywho, how is my love? And how is Gale? Marge misses him terribly. She has a sneaky suspicion that he is going to ask her to marry him.. though I think she may be going a bit stir crazy from not being with him, but who am I to talk?

Our girls are doing our best here, I work the soup kitchen most days for the people out of jobs and soldiers who have come home injured. My classes are going terribly, my focus only seems to train on you and what you’re doing, and if you’re safe.

I’m sending some pictures for you, John. Marge let me borrow her camera and the film just got back to me today, so I hope you enjoy. I miss you, love. I can’t wait for you to be back in my arms and within my reach. For now, take these photos and do with them what you like. Imagine me there, John. Just how I imagine you here with me. Oh, and please, please, please, do not let anyone see these!

Your Girl,

Y/N

you kissed the letter with scarlet stained lips, enclosed the envelope set with your photos, and sent it off, staring out of the window as the mailman carried it off to be shipped overseas, in the air, and into john’s trusted hands.

★

“mail!” a soldier shouted in the quiet cafeteria. men, all in matching green uniforms, scrambled to get up and horde the poor guy. he passed letters and packages around, assigning them with a last name shouted before he handed it to the rightful owner. “egan.” he said, dropping a single envelope signed with pretty cursive writing on the front.

“who’s it from?” gale asked sarcastically. he knew his friend was smitten with his girl from back home and she was one of the few- or rather only- person he took the time to write to.

“take a guess, clevens.” john replied smugly, tearing open the letter quite clumsily, the tear all jagged and the envelop ripped down the corner. out of that tear, a photo caught the eye of john. he squinted. “she sent photos.” he told gale.

“really? marge never sends me photos.” he mutters jealously. gale watched his friend’s face blush a bright red, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “what? what is it?”

“that’s for me to cherish, and for you… to never find out.” john smiled up at his friend. he took one of the many pictures out of the envelope completely and turned it many ways to look at all perspectives of your beauty. the way your hair fell over your eyes as you gazed lustfully at the camera lens. the way the intricate lace of your bra strap led down to the see-through fabric over your breast. he could see you perfectly. though the camera isn’t the most expensive and definitely not the most defined, john could tell you took your time making sure these photos were worth his while.

“damn, major. who is this beautiful dame?” lieutenant curtis was peaking over john’s shoulder and john slammed the picture down onto the table before he could see anymore of his girl.

“that’s mine, curt. you’ll have to find your own.” curtis made a booing sound and walked off playfully glum. “god, this girl’s gonna be the death of me.”

“are you gonna explain or am i gonna have to snatch the picture while you aren’t looking?” gale asked, running a hand through his blond hair.

“you ain’t seeing the pictures, nobody’s seein’ them but me.” john shook his head, a light blush still creeping up his neck, up his ears. “she sent nudie pictures.” he laughed under his breath, shoving the pictures deep into his pocket.

“what? let me see!” gale leaned forward, smiling from cheek to cheek.

“what?” john scoffed. “hell, no. i’m gonna marry this girl.” he leaned back away from the table, so gale couldn't grab him and force the photos out of his pocket. “hell, i ain’t even read the letter yet.”

“better get to writing a hell of a response. she won’t send anymore if you send some half-assed letter back, man.” gale laughed, taking a sip of coffee.

john finally took the letter out of the envelope, it still smelled like her. he brought it up to his nose and thought fondly of his beautiful girl back home. he missed her more than anything. unfolding the parchment, he smiled at her greeting, her penmanship was unlike any other. curling, twirling cursive letters filled the page and he caught a glimpse of the lipstick mark at the bottom of the page. oh, to kiss her lips again, buck thought.

his eyes scanned every word more than twice. he could hear her voice within the written words.

“she asked how you were doing.” buck told gale whose eyebrows lifted in gratefulness. “she also says that marge thinks you’re going to ask her to marry you.”

“damn it!” gale huffs, leaning his head back to look at the ceiling. “how does she know?”

“don’t know, man.” john laughs as he takes out a piece of paper from his pocket, always on hand for something like this, when he has to get to work immediately on writing you back.

My Beautiful Girl,

There’s nothing I want more than to be with you right now. In my arms, in my bed, all alone. No one but us, my sweet girl.

When I get back, I’m going to keep you to myself for a whole week. And those pictures? I never knew you to be so dirty. You should’ve seen my face when I opened up the envelope. I was about as red as a ripe tomato.

I long for nothing more than to kiss those sweet lips, your shoulders, your smooth legs, all of you. I am going to come home to you. I’m gonna crash through the front door and hold onto you until forever falls apart. There’s only a few more months until we’re together again, for good, hopefully.

And to answer your questions, I’m doing okay. we’re losing a lot of men, really quickly. I can’t help but to keep offering to go on missions, just so it doesn’t go haywire. Gale is also planning on asking Marge to marry him, but don’t you dare tell her. He was doing great until I told him about her correct accusations. He is currently laying his head down on the table and holding his hands to his head in despair.

My girl, I love you so much. Trust in this, I am always yours and no one will see these pictures but me, admiringly. I always imagine you with me. You’re with me when I sleep at night, when I’m up in the air, and especially in my heart. You keep me safe without even knowing, angel.

Love, John

★

just as john said in his letter, a few months and he’d be home. months turn into weeks, weeks turned into days, and days turned into hours. today was the day and you had been preparing since the sun first rose in the morning.

marge had also been on edge, their plane was to arrive at the tarmac at three in the afternoon. you and marge spent the day scrubbing, shaving, spritzing, and dressing. after that, you spent a few minutes straightening up the house and making sure there was some food warming up for him when he got home. even so, the hangar was only a few minutes down the road.

it was about a quarter past two now and marge was supposed to be with you about fifteen minutes ago. to say you were antsy would be a major understatement. you couldn’t keep the ball of your heel from bouncing on the floor, your poor nails had been chewed off hours ago.

a knock on the door knocked you out of your anxious daze and you sprang up from the couch to answer it.

marge’s glowing face entered your sight and you sighed in relief.

“you’re late.” you hugged your best friend tightly, then ran into the kitchen to grab your purse before meeting marge on the porch, closing and locking the door.

“i know, i’m sorry. i really don’t have an excuse, i was just so anxious so i drove a bit slower.” she admitted, which helped you feel a lot better. at least you weren’t alone.

“we shouldn’t be this nervous, really.” you sighed, walking down the sidewalk to marge’s car. you opened the door and sat in the passenger seat. marge followed suit and sat in the driver’s side, quickly cranking the key and speeding off to the airport. the plane was due to arrive at three, so you only had about fifteen minutes until you got to see your favorite person in the world.

"should we stand at the gate or try to get onto the actual tarmac?" marge questioned, looking around at all the other wives and girlfriends standing around.

"there's a guard at the gate, we'll just ask him if we can get in." you pointed at the man in a vest, a security badge pinned to his chest. you and marge waltzed up to the man with kind smiles painted on your lips. "hi, sir. how are you today?"

"just fine, and yourselves?" the man smiled warmly.

"absolutely dandy." marge grinned. "so, listen, we were just wondering. are we allowed to go onto the tarmac or do we have to wait behind the gate?"

"i can allow you on the tarmac, but do you see those cones over there?" he pointed behind him to bright orange cones lined up down the asphalt. the girls hummed in agreement. "you can't get more than thirty feet near them. that's where the plane will land and roll in and i will not be taking responsibility for a bunch of soldiers' wives getting run over because they decided not to listen, understand?" the man looked back to the women who nodded with wide eyes. "okay, let me open this." he fished a key out of his pocket and unlocked the gate, pushing it open so the girls could come in and await their loves.

marge checked the gold watch on her wrist. "should be about five minutes, y/n."

"i feel like i need to puke. do you feel like you have to puke?" you sputtered out quickly and marge placed her hands on your shoulders to calm you down.

"hey, there's nothing to be nervous about. john is a good man, a good man who misses you, okay? you have nothing to worry about except getting pregnant in the next twenty-four hours." marge giggled when you gasped.

"marge! watch your mouth or they'll carry you away." you two laughed before the distant sound of a plane rattled the ground beneath your feet. you looked up and there it was. the plane that carried your john back to you, safe and sound. you sighed, saying a quick prayer, before watching the plane land safely and roll into the hangar.

the wives were muttering relentlessly. it had been a few minutes since the plane got here and no soldiers had yet to step out. but finally, finally, a group of men all dressed in matching green jumpsuits and carrying the same bag came running out of the hangar in search of their reasons for fighting as hard as they did. marge spotted gale, his golden blonde hair flowing in the wind as he ran to her. he scooped her up in his arms, kissing her like it was from a movie. y/n laughed and clapped for her best friends, but she couldn't help but wonder where john was.

"hey, y/n. how are ya, girl?" gale walked up to the worrisome girl with his arm around marge's waist.

"i'm fine, gale! oh, we've missed you and john so much." she sighed as he wrapped his free arm around her in an embrace. "where is john, by the way?"

gale looked behind him and there he was, almost as if in slow motion. he was just as dreamy as the day she met him.

before she could stop herself, her feet picked up a quick pace and soon enough she was running to him, grinning and laughing. when she reached him, he dropped his duffle bag onto the floor and pulled her into his arms, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around.

“oh, my sweet y/n.” john muttered into her hair. she smelled so good. she smelled like home. he missed her like hell. and if she wasn’t half of his heart, there’s no way he would’ve survived. “i missed you so much.”

he let her down so her feet could touch the ground, but made no move to let her out of his embrace. y/n cupped the sides of his face and brought him into a searing kiss. a kiss that said everything she couldn’t. how grateful she was that he was home, that he’s safe, back in her arms. “i missed you so much more.”

“not possible.” he said against her lips.

“hey, if y’all don't mind i’d like to go home!” gale shouted at the couple, teasingly. marge playfully slapped him against his chest in scolding. he just laughed and grabbed her hand, leading her back to the gate.

“i guess we should go.” y/n sighed against him. john pouted and whined dropping his head to her shoulder. “the faster we get home, the faster you get to see all the new pictures i have.”

with that, he grabbed his bag off the ground and y/n’s hand, leading her to marge and gale, albeit very quickly.

★

marge dropped y/n and john off at her home, speeding off with a wave out of the window.

“i missed this place.” john said, looking up at the small house. y/n grabbed his hand gently and led him up the stairs of the porch. when they walked in, it smelled of a home cooked meal and pure love to john. “what’d you make, angel?”

“some steak,” she replied, walking in front of him to open the oven that was keeping the food warm. she felt john’s presence behind her, warm and inviting. “potatoes,” john wrapped his arms around her waist, his lips tickling the nape of her neck. her breath hitched as she leaned back against him. “and i baked a pie.”

“mmm, what kind?” his lips were right near her ear and he kissed the skin behind it, a light gasp leaving her pretty lips.

“cherry.”

“my favorite.” he turned her around and captured her lips in a kiss, lost in her already. she was breathless. this is all she had been waiting for, yearning every day and even worse at night. she missed his touch, his kiss, his everything. “those photos you sent drove me crazy, baby. took everything i had not to just tape it to the windshield of my plane.”

“there’s more.” she whispered, his lips all over her neck, sucking bruises that she would have to hide with a turtle neck. “you wanna see?”

he growled against her skin as she dragged him into the bedroom. she pushed him to sit on the bed, noticing the already prominent bulge in his green army pants. she kneeled down between his legs, eye contact heavy between them. john shifted where he sat, ready for anything she was about to give him. instead, she reached for the black box under her bed and placed it on his thighs.

“open it.” she sat back on her calves, watching him open the box with a brow lifted quizzically.

inside were more than 30 developed pictures, in all their vulgar glory. john let out a sigh and sat up straighter. he picked up a few and sorted through them, y/n was posed with a white lacy set adorning her body and light makeup on her face. she was in front of a mirror, playing with herself. she could hear his breath catch in his throat. he stared at each photo, getting harder by the second.

“do you like them?” she asked, he brought his attention back down to his girl. her big doe eyes looking pleading and seductive at the same time. she was still sitting back on her legs and the way she had her hands clasped in front of her made her arms push her breasts together, giving john a teasing view of her cleavage.

“like them? b-baby, i want these burned into my memory.” he stuttered over his words and that’s how y/n knew she had him wrapped around her finger. the usually stoic, firm, but kind man she fell in love with is gradually falling apart at the seams, all because of her. “y’know what, though?”

“hm?”

“i think i prefer the live action version.” the smirk on his face was deep, setting smile lines onto the left side of his face.

“well, good thing you got it for the rest of your life, baby.” she sat up on her legs, placing her hands on the tops of his thighs for stability. john leaned in to kiss her, but she pulled back. he groaned, his mouth open and waiting for her to crash into him.

“i’d rather you not tease me right now, angel.” he breathed against her lips. y/n just giggled and took the box from his lap, placing it back under the bed. she stood to her full height and john wrapped his arms around her hips, letting her sit herself on his lap. she gasped when she felt how aroused he was. “kiss me.”

“not yet.” she smiled, leaning away from his lips. “let me undress you?”

john agreed and let her pull his shirt from where it was tucked into his pants. she flung the fabric somewhere behind her and giggled. his toned chest was warm and soft, she grazed her fingers over every freckle and mole that she had missed so much, kissing over every one she saw. she let her hands drag down to his belt that she skillfully unbuckled while maintaining eye contact with her lover.

john was going absolutely insane, he had never seen this side of her before. so powerful, so in tune with both of their bodies, and ever so confident. he was enchanted.

“can we try something?” he asked suddenly when she pulled his belt through the last loop.

“what’s that, baby?” she started to kiss his neck, licking and sucking all over the soft skin and john moaned while trying to get his words out.

“the g-guys were talking about- fuck, how good it is to eat pussy.” he whined when y/n stopped in her tracks. she detached her lips from his body and leaned back to look at him.

“you wanna try that?” she looked shocked.

john nodded submissively, blush rushing to the tops of his ears and creeping down his neck.

“just lie down, i’ll take care of you.” he cradled her neck in his large hand. he brought the other one to the buttons of her dress, slowly taking each one out. when he caught sight of the bralette adoring her figure, he brought his head down to kiss at the top of her skin and the lacy fabric. “i’m liking all this new underwear, baby.”

“all just for you.” she whispered. she carded her fingers through his hair, her head tilted back in pleasure at the magic he was working on her body. she was soaked and he had barely even done anything.

john took the rest of her dress off and lifted her to stand, it dropped to her feet onto the floor and she stepped out of it. he laid her back down, propping a pillow behind her head.

“you still okay?” he asked, kissing down her belly. her answer was breathy and barely audible, but he heard it, so he continued. his fingers grazed the hem of her white panties, a pink bow adorning the middle. the innocence of it all made john’s head feel dizzy. he slowly dragged her underwear down her legs, savoring every moment with her. “let me know what feels good, honey.”

“oka-” her voice failed her as john brought his lips up to her swollen bud. if he was new at this, he sure was a fast learner. his tongue was circling her clit, but trailed down to her entrance that was sopping with arousal. as soon as he got his first taste, john wrapped his arms around the backs of her thighs and brought her closer to his mouth. “oh, my god.”

“feel good?” he muttered quickly, going back to licking and slurping as if his life depended on it.

“fucking unreal.” her head was thrown back, fingers digging into the pillow behind her. her hips were bucking onto john’s face, forcing his nose to bump her clit. she felt his fingers prodding at her and she mewled, her back arching against the bed. “won’t last, if you do that.”

“that’s the whole point, sweets.” he was smiling against her. her overstimulation was amusing to him.

“wanna come on your cock, baby.” he groaned against her core, sending waves of pleasure through her entire body. her eyes were clenched so tightly, she wouldn’t be surprised if they ended up wrinkled on the lid.

begrudgingly, he pulled back, kneeling in front of her. he made sure to look into her eyes as he sucked his fingers into his mouth, moaning around them at the sweet taste of her. “tastes like honey, baby.”

“i’m sure you taste better.” she flirted back, her eyelashes fluttering. and as much as he would love to shove his cock down her throat, her cunt was much more appealing at the moment.

“maybe tomorrow. tonight’s about you, doll. and how much i missed you.” his belt had already been undone by her, so all he had to do was unbutton them and let them fall to the floor. “do you wanna know how i spent my nights?” he mounted his sweet girl, a knee between her legs and his arms holding himself up to look into her eyes. “i had a room to myself, y’know.. bein’ major comes with some perks. i’d take out those photos you sent me.. every night. like fuckin’ clock work.” she could feel him lining himself up with her entrance. the head of his cock prodding at the greedy hole that was oh so eager to take him. “i’d picture you there, running your hands all over me, like you always do. latchin’ yourself onto me. lovin’ me so good…”

her eyes were sparkling under the warm lights of the lamps on the beside tables. her bottom lip was quivering with need, her back arching up to try and get him to slip into her, but every time she bucked her hips, he would pull just inches away. she was writhing beneath him, aching to have him in her. “bucky, please.”

“hang on, darlin’.” john was smiling ear-to-ear. he knew what he was doing to her, he loved to see her all riled up just for him. “i’d fuck my fist every night to those sweet pictures.. just counting the days until i’d see you again. til i could kiss you again, til i could fuck you again.”

he kissed the side of her neck before thrusting himself all the way into her cunt. the stretch was euphoric to her after not having anything but her fingers, that she could not work as well as john could. she hissed in pleasure as he pulled out, just to the tip, and thrusted in harder, setting a nice and steady pace.

“faster.” she breathed against his lips. he obliged quickly, pressing into her harder and faster than he had before. she was clawing her nails down his back, and he whimpered into her neck. he thought his fantasies were good? this was a hundred times better than anything his mind could’ve conjured up. she was squeezing so tight he could barely pull out, but god was it amazing. he couldn’t make his mind think about anything but her. “you feel so good, buck. better than i dreamed.”

“you been dreamin’ about me too, sweetheart?” he kissed her cheek, chin, and lips. he swiped his tongue over her bottom lip and she opened her mouth wider, letting him taste all around. she could faintly taste herself on his tongue and she moaned at the vulgarity of it all.

john snuck his fingertips down her belly, tracing her skin on the way down to her swollen clit, he circled it in slow, smooth movements. y/n threw her head back with her bottom lip between her teeth.

“cmon baby. give it to me.” he growled in her ear. his hips were losing their rhythm and he refused to come before her. “come for me, darlin’.”

she held her hand to the back of his neck, keeping him latched to her chest. john sucked and bit over her chest, leaving dark marks all along her skin. her thighs were trembling in pleasure as john worked himself faster against her hips. the only sounds in the room were the couple’s lewd and borderline pornographic curses falling from their swollen lips and skin slapping against skin. john could feel her core clenching tighter and tighter and he knew that coil in her belly was about to snap.

“john, i’m coming.” her voiced was pinched as she wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles at his lower back. she moaned even louder as he hit even deeper, hitting that spot inside of her so well, she was seeing stars.

“give me all you got, baby.” he whispered against her chest, his fingers still working circles against her clit. she pressed her nails into his skin, surely leaving bloody red marks all over his freckled back. her climax hit her like a train and then it hit her again and again in the most intense aftershocks she had ever had, she was leaking all over his cock and john look down to where the two of them were connected, wet and slick in both of their arousal. the sight alone had him coming inside of her with a loud groan, and collapsing onto her.

while the two of them caught their breath, john’s head perked up with a mischievous smirk on his face.

“what?” she asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“you still got that camera from marge? i’d love to take some pictures of us that we both can enjoy.”

#callum turner imagine #callum turner smut #callum turner #bucky egan #john egan #gale cleven #austin butler imagine #boys in the boat #spotify #soldier boy

165 notes · View notes

filynxs · 2 months

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౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ Bullies. I part two

pov: You had p.e., and your teacher wanted you all to get a partner to practise boxing techniques. To your bad luck, you got one of your bullies as a partner. Sukuna.

pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader

content: bully x reader, physical violence, boxing, injuries

a/n: read part one here

song: Government Hooker - Lady Gaga

As if your day hadn‘t began badly enough already, you had to wear a patch on the side of your head because of your earlier encounter with Sukuna and Satoru. The spot still felt warm and throbbed against the bandage, and this annoyed you. However, you couldn‘t have just used your cursed energy to heal it. After all, someone would notice…

"Hey, partner," Sukuna approached you with tall strides, his fist hitting his palm with force as he did so. A grin laid over his lips, and you could sense he was trying to intimidate you.

"Partner? Who said I would choose you?" you inquired, furrowing your brows at him before your gaze strayed away at the other students in your course. Yet, the only thing you could see was pairs of people who‘d train together, leaving no one else for you to choose behind.

"I‘m the only option you have," Sukuna purred in your direction, gradually circling you with steps that were tinted by smugness. "Let‘s fight."

A sigh escaped you when you spun around to face him, balling your hands into fists. His grin widened in response, and his eyes were staring back at yours as if every hint of mercy had left that guy. It nearly seemed like he was… excited.

With a mere finger movement, he motioned for you to confront him. His casual stance made him look defenseless, hence you attempted your first attack.

When your fist was about to land on his stomach with all your strength, he caught it with ease, flipping you over to throw you to the floor. He lowered himself to press his knee against your bum, making it hard for you to get up.

"You‘re not using your whole power," he growled under his breath, watching you squirm beneath him. A frown had formed on your face, and you gasped for air.

"Sukuna, you are only supposed to practise the boxing techniques I showed you!" your teacher called out to you two, thus Sukuna let go off you. He sighed in frustration — as if realizing he forgot about the fact that you two were not alone in the school gym.

You climbed back onto your wobbly feet, brushing the dusk off your clothes before facing him again. Your chin was slightly bruised because of how you had landed on the floor earlier, and you could feel your knees slightly throbbing in ache. It felt like a heavy weight was still pushing down on your knees, making it hard for you to stand.

"You heard what our teacher said," you stated with a soft huff, crossing your arms in front of your chest that heaved with every heavy breath you took.

Sukuna snorted, slightly wrinkling his nose in the process.

"Yeah," he chortled. "But that won‘t stop me from forcing you into using your full strength." And with that, he moved toward you at an incredible speed, nearly as fast as light. It was difficult for you to catch his figure before he would reach you, but you put your arms up in front of your face to catch his attack.

When he stroke your arms, the impact of his strength caused you to slide a few feet away from him. For you, his power was nearly unbelievable. You never thought that someone as strong as him could exist.

He attempted another attack, but before he could hit you, you dodged his arms and reached for a blow into his side. You managed to hit him, however, that little punch of yours didn‘t do anything to him.

"That‘s all you can do?" he asked, snickering when he straightened up from his fighting stance. "Come on, try harder."

Rapidly, he ran toward you. At first, it seemed like he would attack your face, hence you dodged his arms. Nevertheless, what he had actually planned was to kick your legs away, and when he did so, he caused you to land on your butt. The harshness of your landing sent a sharp pain from your bum through your legs, causing your thighs to shake.

You winced in discomfort, and your breath caught in your throat.

"How boring," he commented. As you looked up at him, he stared down at you with a smug look on his tattooed face. He couldn‘t suppress a grin when he saw you on the floor in front of him, all weak and whiny, even though you had much more potential deep inside your chest.

"And such a waste of potential."

part three: here

#anime #manga #jjk #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk sukuna ryomen #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna #jujutsu ryomen #jjk ryomen #ryomen x reader #jujutsu kaisen ryomen

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unluckilyimnot · 6 months

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HI YIRL

so I rlly wanted to ask (actually I’m craving it rn) if you could do a sae, shidou and kurona hc when what they would do/ how would they react if their s/o is rlly good (like REALLY good) at like soccer or any other sport (basketball, volleyball I don’t really mind so do wtv<3)

s/o who's really good at sport

0.5 | fluff

m.list | rules

Note: HIII thank you for your request!! I'm an hc girlie ask anything ! It really like this one hihi I hope you like it !

Sae + volley ball

he loves the fact that you’re good at sport too

he doesn’t know shit about volleyball but he will learn by himself to understand when he see you play

it doesn’t matter if you’re pro or not, he likes to come see you play

don’t expect him to scream or whatever, but he tries to come every time

he wants to know more about strategy or your position in the team (libero, setter, ect)

the more he learn about it, the happier he is

will make you dinner or bento according to your daily training

he always knows what to do when you’re sore and can’t move because of the pain, but won’t do much for you because he’s in the same state

or he would be annoying and tells you things like “you should’ve stretch better”

comment whenever he thinks you played well or not

will try to help you do your best

you two do cardio together

running date

for fem body people, he’s really cautious if you’re on your period and tells you to be careful + give you pain killer along with your lunch

not your first fan bc your friends are way too extreme but he comes just after them <3

Shidou + boxing

wants to do it with you

he LOVES when you show him new things you’ve learn or teach him

he’s really good and you already told him to try out more but he loves soccer too much

it’s simply a good date idea to him

he’s screaming the loudest he can during competition

pretend to be you trainer sometimes to mess around

your number 1 fan

likes to play fight with you

he’s really dramatic, if you win at some point he will just lift you in the air and take a few turns

he loves to do basic sportif stuff with you

i’m not sure he’s that careful about his diet but if you are, he’ll listen to you and it can be an excuse to spend time with you

he likes coming with you for groceries

his fav protein shake are vanilla flavor

You always have to put an end to the fight he starts it

But if you're violent enough he'll end up being clingy bc you're hot

Kurona + basketball

he tries to make it to all of your matches

he seems like a big fan of basketball, i think he follows NBA play closely beside football

first hype boy man, you never fell down with him

and if you do, he’ll cheer you up like nobody else can, even your team mate

he always here to give you advices if you need

but he also loves to hear your point about his training and how he can get better

i feel like your better at building your training than him so he likes to do it with you

he would love to play with you sometimes, outside when the weather is fine with it is the best

he’s kinda insecure if some people came along and they’re better than him but thats still not his sport so it’s fine

as long as you enjoy it the fullest he’s the happiest

if you’re pro and you have to go aboard to play he’s sad ngl, he misses you a lot

tries to call you everyday

he’s the happiest honestly, he just likes being able to talk about sport freely whithout sounding nerdy

#blue lock x reader #blue lock headcanons #blue lock hc #bllk headcanons #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #bllk hcs #sae itoshi x reader #sae x reader #sae headcanons #shidou x reader #shidou headcanons #shidou fluff #kurona x reader #kurona fluff #kurona headcanons

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thebearer · 1 year

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the milestones menu: nonna berzatto's homemade pasta

prompt: yours and carmen's first "i love you".

contains: fluff, general fluff. some mentions to dead relatives, carmen's self doubt, but very minimal bc it's very fluffy :)

2 cups of flour- Semolina.

4 Large Eggs

Pinch of Salt

Put flour into a mound. Make a center, and add the eggs to the middle. Whisk slowly with a fork, gradually working it in little at a time until nice and thick. Knead the mixture for about ten minutes. Let it rest in the fridge for thirty minutes. Put it in a ball, and roll it out very thin.

“Can’t believe you never had homemade pasta.” Carmen shook his head, blue eyes peeking out from under the mess of curls.

“Nope.” You shook your head, grinning over the crystal wine glass, sipping your riesling slowly. “Strictly a boxed pasta girl.”

“Fuckin’ criminal.” Carmen grinned, a playful, lopsided smirk that had you blushing.

The counter was covered in flour, stopping just where you rested, propped up on the granite while Carmen worked. Your eyes trained on his hands, hands that stirred the eggs into the flour, kneaded the dough until your thighs were clenching.

“My Nonna is rollin’ in her grave right now, you know that?” Carmen pulled you from your gaze, rolling out the dough.

“Noooo, don't say that.” You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re making me feel bad, Carmen. I swear I thought Olive Garden made fresh pasta.”

Carmen laughed, a little shy but louder now- more himself. He’d blossomed with you lately, unveiling new parts of himself every single day. “‘M just kiddin’, baby.” Carmen hummed, eyes cutting to you a little skeptical. “Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to sound like an asshole. That sounded douchey, right?”

You smiled, setting your glass behind you. “No, I was just messin’ with you, bear.” The nickname- his nickname. Hearing it more and more roll from your tongue, each time his heart skipped harder than the last.

“Is this her recipe?” You asked, picking up the faded recipe card, looped cursive on the aged paper. “Your Nonna’s?”

“Yeah,” Carmen nodded. “I, uh, so when I left to go to culinary school, right? She was sick, and… and I think she, like, knew that when I went to New York that would be the last time she saw me.” Carmen’s face dropped, slow and sad, it made your own heart sink.

“So she-she gave me all these recipe books and-and cards that were hers. We used to cook together a lot. She taught me how to cook, y’know? My mom and dad were always at the restaurant and didn’t want to cook when they got home. They didn’t want me in the restaurant either so I spent a lot of time with her.” Carmen muttered. You could see the memories playing behind his eyes.

You liked to picture that version of Carmen, a little boy with wild curls, helping his Nonna cook. Happy memories.

“That’s sweet.” You smiled, leaning against the cabinets. “She did a really good job. You know she’s so insanely proud of you.”

Carmen snorted, shaking his head lightly. “Yes, she is. Everyone’s proud of you, Carmen… I’m proud of you.” You hesitate, eyes scanning his features. It was true, of course, but handling Carmen sometimes was like handling a frightened animal. You were never sure what would make him scatter away in fear.

Carmen swallowed thickly, cheeks flushed red, lips in a tight line. “T-Thanks.” Carmen muttered, wiping his hands on his apron, tossing the flour back into his clammy hands.

“She, uh, she woulda loved you, y’know.” Carmen’s eyes met yours, intense and piercing. “I wish you coulda met her.”

“Yeah, me too.” You nod. “I would’ve loved to hear all the baby Carmen cooking stories. I bet she had some good ones.” You smiled, bright and wide- perfect. It made Carmen’s brain numb.

“Yeah, she would.” Carmen nodded, hands stilling, still buried in the dough.

He felt it in his bones, his heart, consuming his thoughts. The overwhelming need he’d felt for weeks, since the first time you kissed him really, that he’d been fighting- too scared to say. What he felt every time he looked at you, when he thought about you.

“Um, I-I wanna say something, and-and I don’t know if I should even fuckin’ say this or-or if it’s… fuck, if you-you feel the same or I just, I don’t wanna fuck this up because this is like the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and-and I’m workin’ on not ruinin’ good shit in my life and bein’ ok with it like-like my therapist says ya know, but-” Carmen rambled, words spilling out in fast, overwhelming bouts that took you by surprise.

Carmen flustered, reaching a dough covered hand to his face, the sticky batter catching on his brows and hair. He flushed deeply, hands shaking in embarrassment, cursing under his breath. “F-Fuck, I-I’m sorry. I-I, nevermind, it’s not… I don’t know why-why I would-” His hands trembled, body shaking with anger and embarrassment. Way to fuckin’ go, Berzatto, you fuckin’ ruin it. That’s all you ever do, Carmen thought bitterly, wiping his hands off on the cloth.

“Carm,” You said softly, your voice a beacon in the raging sea of his mind, pulling him out of his own harsh thoughts.

Carmen turned, a fury flush of pure embarrassment that burnt all down his cheeks to his chest. Eyes soft and wary, hesitant like he was doomed, destined for the worse.

You slide off the counter easily, grabbing the spare towel, bringing it to his eyebrows, wiping the dough off gently. The softness of your touch soothed Carmen, lulling his hammering heart- he didn’t see your own shaking hands, filled with your own adrenaline nerves.

You stood in front of him, eyes on the other, careful and watching- unsure. “I-I love you, too.” Your breath hitched, squeezing the words out in a nervous tumble. Carmen didn’t move, body going rigid, heart stopping entirely. The ringing was back in his ears, clouding his brain so loudly he was sure he heard you wrong.

“I’ve wanted to say it for a while, too, but didn’t…” You shook your head, heat in your own cheeks, eyes casting down to his dough covered hand. “I didn’t know if-if you felt that or if- I don’t know, I didn’t want to seem crazy or obsessive if it was too soon, and-and scare you.”

“No,” Carmen croaked, tongue thick in his own mouth. “No, I-I mean- fuck,” Carmen shook his head, looking to the wall. He needed a second, words jumbled in his mouth, heart racing, so high off the adrenaline he felt like he could combust at any moment.

“I-I was gonna say that too.” Carmen nodded, the quirk in your lips making his heart lurch. “That I love you. I was- yeah, I love you. I-I have for a while.”

“Really?” You whispered, voice tiny and excited, like it was a secret just for the two of you. Maybe it was.

“Yeah, fuck yeah.” Carmen let out a breathy, shaky laugh. “I love you, and-and I just love you so much it makes my brain hurt sometimes.”

“Me too.” You grin, a hand pressing to his cheek. “I love you.” The phrase you’d repressed for so long, deprived yourself of saying now spilled out of you like a mantra- like that was all you could say now.

Carmen grinned, brain bubbly and light. He let you pull him into a kiss, head tilting down, lips molding over yours so they fit perfectly.

Later over plates of Bologonese, you grinned across the table from Carmen. “If I didn’t tell you I loved you before, I definitely would now.” You moaned, pointing at the plate. “I really was missing out.”

Carmen beamed under your praise, gooey and love drunk off your words- off you. He knew Viola Berzatto, wherever she was, was boasting with pride.

And he knew his Nonna would have loved you too.

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mattiebluebird · 7 months

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Yk that post that's like ‘signal is the spiritual successor to nightwing’ bc I DO & IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT NON-STOP.

And the comics pretty much confirm it (To Me) in Grayson #15.

So in this issue each of the Robins, minus Steph (RIP Steph) get paired off with one of the We Are Robin gang and give them their own advice on what it means to be Robin.

Tim—whose main problem with this whole thing is that they don't know these kids, how can they trust them?—gets paired with Andre Cipriani, a mob kid whose dad was murdered by a rival gang when he was eight years old. Tim trains Dre by having him fight blindfolded. He tells Dre that being a Robin is about truth and investigation, which makes sense, right? Tim became a Robin by figuring out Batman and Robin’s secret identity (keep this in mind, all the Robins’ advice links to their origin).

To be a Robin, you have to understand what you don't know. And then you must seek to know it. You must always ask: how can I see into the dark? Batman once told me, being a Robin can be summarized into one word: investigation.

These two were an interesting choice to pair up. I would've thought they'd put Dre with Jason, given their violent tendencies—Dre is smart, but at this point in the comics doesn't strike me as particularly investigative. Then again, right after this arc he goes undercover in a gang, so maybe he learned something?

Speaking of learning something: at first I thought they should've paired Dre with Steph (#teamcriminaldads lmao), and while that would be an interesting team, Dre did learn from Tim. If Riko were present in this issue, she would've been a good fit for Steph, as she idolizes the Batgirls and Steph was both a Batgirl and a Robin. Plus, Steph and Riko are both brave & have mean streaks, something that Riko has trouble showing because of her shyness. Steph’s advice probably would've been along the lines of “being a Robin is about defiance”.

Besides, if Tim and Dre weren't paired up, we never would've gotten this interaction.

— You like Liszt.

— What?

— Franz Liszt. The composer. You play the piano. I looked you up. People who play the piano like Liszt.

Points to Tim for the most autistic small talk ever. ‘You like this, which I know because I researched you in a totally non-creepy way.’ Amazing. 10/10.

Dax gets paired with Jason. They're interesting parallels. Dax is the inventor/mechanic of the team, but also sort of the wild card with very strong morals, like Robin!Jason in a way. Like Jason, Dax’s father is (implied to be) a crook, though they took different moral directions because of that—Dax is completely opposed to gun violence.

Anyways, Jason's main reservation is that you can't have Robin without Batman. And I guess he decided to solve this issue by just becoming Batman & making the WAR crew relive his origin story by stealing tires from the mob.

Y'know, kid, Batman once told me, being a Robin comes down to one word: confidence.

Jason Todd, the Crime Alley street kid who had the balls (and the skills) to steal Batman's tires and get away with it. Sort of. Confidence, indeed.

Damian's problem with the Robins is, of course, that they're weak, and strength (according to him) can't be trained; you either got it or you don't. He gets paired with Izzy, who probably has the toughest home life of the WAR crew. Her brother's in a gang (that he regularly beats her up for not joining), and she's failing all her classes because she's too busy working night shifts at her mom's restaurant to sleep or do homework.

So Damian's advice to her is pretty apt:

Batman told me that there is one word that captures the essence of being Robin. Suffering.

Damian and Izzy are both outwardly surly, stubborn characters who have had to fight to survive. Notably, Izzy is the first of the crew to almost resort to killing/guns (in WAR #6). She's also probably the best fighter in the WAR crew after Dre and Riko. She does dancing, gymnastics, judo, and kick-boxing.

And, finally, we reach the point of this whole post: Dick & Duke.

Duke deduces Dick's secret identity in like .5 seconds.

— I've solved a lot of hard in my time. This ain't hard.

— No. No, it wasn't hard. Not for you. Again, Duke Thomas?

Dick: You discovered my secret identity!

Duke: What? Like its hard?

After scoping out their strengths and weaknesses, Dick sends the Robins on individual assignments: Dre and Tim to investigate, Dax and Jason to cause a distraction, Izzy and Damian to apprehend Robo-Batman/Gordon.

Dick brings Duke on to a roof for a stake-out, where they have this exchange.

— You think only the originals understand how to be Robin?

— Nope.

— Yeah. Me neither.

Then it turns out that Dick actually turned them all in to the cops because he wanted them out of harm's way. He's been watching Duke for a while and he knows he's scared of heights, so he led him onto a roof he knew he couldn't get off of. Just before they part ways, Dick imparts his Crucial Robin Advice:

Batman once wais to me that being a Robin is about one thing. Family.

(I find this whole thing super ironic considering Dick's whole aside concerning the Robins was the fact that it doesn't matter if people know you're manipulating them as long as it works.)

The point of Robin? Family. Dick and Duke are alike in this way. Dick only became Robin to get justice for his parents’ murder. Duke only joined WAR to find his parents.

Their origins and motivations are similar, and so are the characters themselves. Dick is often called the world's second-greatest detective next to Batman himself. Duke is a child prodigy—one of our first introductions to his character is when he tried to solve the Riddler's riddles in Zero Year. He loves puzzles. He's an amazing detective.

And, of course, one of the things we know and love about Nightwing is his inherent kindness, something that's present throughout Duke’s entire character arc. Even their hero names, Signal and Nightwing, are parallels of each other (light and dark). Batman’s first sidekick and his last. And, like Nightwing, Signal formed his own team (WAR) with no help from the others (except Alfred ig).

Of course, the entire point of Signal’s character is that he's not just a Robin. He's something different. It reminds me of that post that's like—’poor dick grayson, originator of a legacy he never meant to be a legacy, crushed with guilt and jealousy when he looks at all those who came after’. To me at least, it makes sense that Nightwing’s successor would've never been a Robin at all.

#tumblr ate this post half-way thru so posting was delayed #duke thomas #we are robin #dick grayson #nightwing #dc #andre cipriani #daxton chill #dc comics #riko sheridan #batfam #izzy ortiz #damian wayne #tim drake #jason todd #Stephanie brown #robin war

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velvetydream · 4 months

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꒰ :🥊 [ Rocky ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : Your boyfriend loved to take you to his matches, saying you were his little good luck charm, yet you're always worried to the core watching him fight.

Pairing : Boxer! Mingi x GN! Reader

Word count : 1.7K Words

Genre : Romance , Fluff, Angst

Warnings ➵ Boxing, Blood, Injuries, talk

about marriage and having

children (still GN! Reader)

a/n : I have no clue of how boxing works, but Rocky goes hard so I had to write a Boxer Mingi story!🤧💕

┌───────────────────────── · · · · ♡

Mingi called you his little good luck charm, while it was an endearing name to be called, you hated it. Because it would end up with him hurt in some way or another. The boxing matches you watched, even when being his lucky charm and he wins, he was hurt. Busted lip, cut eyebrow, sometimes even a black eye. Many bruises all over his body. You hated it and he knew.

"You'll be there Saturday right?" Mingi looks up at you from the table, it was a calm morning so far.. till he had to bring up his next match. Even thinking about his upcoming matches makes your stomach turn, making you nauseous. "I don't know, I might have to work or something." Your back was turned to him as you were flipping the pancakes in front of you. The grip on the handle made your knuckles turn white, until Mingi stood behind you, his hand softly gliding over yours and making you loosen your grip. "You said you're free, you know how important it is for me that you're there." Of course, you knew, you were his little lucky charm, his motivation, the love of his life. Yet it was hard to watch him get hurt over and over again, fearing that someday he would get hurt drastically with irreparable damage to himself.

"Of course, I know that, but you also know I don't like seeing you get hurt! Mingi we've been over this countless times already." Pulling your hand away from his now, you turn the stove off, pushing the pan to a cold place before turning away and walking to the living room, your tall boyfriend following you shortly. "I barely ever get hurt! It's nothing serious!" He was getting irritated with you, just as you were getting annoyed with him. Mingi just won't understand. He won't get it into his thick stubborn head. "Yeah till now! What if one day you get hurt badly?! Paralyzed?! Do you want that? Mingi I'm worried sick every time I watch you!" Tears were building up in your eyes as you finally looked at him. He was visibly taken back by your outburst, he knew you were worried but that it was hurting and bothering you so much? He didn't think about that.

"Hey.. I'm sorry babe, come here.. Please." His hand reaches out to you, softly grabbing your wrist and pulling you against his chest, tears flowing down your cheeks now with soft sobs. Mingi felt torn, he loved boxing, and it was his passion, a way to make money besides his small barely paying job as a waiter. Yet here you were crying in his arms because you were scared to the core for him. The amount of anxiety he must've put you through with each fight he made you watch. Yet you always sat tight, smiled, cheered, and celebrated for and with him. "I should've thought about your feelings earlier, I'm sorry.." Pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, he cradles you against him, your hands balled to fists holding onto the sleeping shirt he was still in.

Mingi was overcome with guilt and also contemplation.. you did have a point. What if someday he took it too far? One wrongly placed hit and it could be over for him and his body. He would never be able to marry you, have children, or grow old with you. Those thoughts made him scared and even question his own choices about boxing. He would definitely have to talk to Yunho about this later at the training. But for now, he had to pamper you, make you smile again, and stop those tears running down your face.

"Pretty, let's watch a movie and cuddle hm? I'll finish the pancakes and you get changed into that sweater of mine you love so much~" Nodding softly, your fist rubbing over your puffy red eyes, before disappearing up the stairs to your and Mingi's shared room, searching for the sweater you loved to steal oh so often. Yet he never gifted it to you, saying it wouldn't feel the same if you owned it and didn't steal it from him anymore. Back in the living room Mingi already prepared two plates with pancakes, arranged just how you like them, some fruits, and just the perfect amount of syrup. "Thanks, Mingi.." Smiling softly at your boyfriend as you take a seat beside him, grabbing your plate while helping him choose a movie. Settling on Spirited Away, and probably also watching Howl Moving Castle immediately afterward.

Mingi later in the day left after making sure you ate dinner, and made his way to the place where he trained at, Yunho already there training one of the new younger guys that joined recently. "Mingi! You're late! What caught you up?" Yunho looked over at him, noticing the frown on his best friend's face, something at home must've happened again. Walking over to Mingi who sat down on the bench, starting to wrap his bandages around his hands, Yunho stood in front of him. "I'll quit after this Saturday. It will be my last match." His eyes did not even meet Yunhos, knowing his friend looked flabbergasted at him now. "What do you mean quit? You're on the best way to become a legend Mingi! You cannot quit now!" His hand was grabbing his shoulder now, shaking him slightly, Mingi swatting his hand away with an annoyed groan. "I don't care, living a long healthy life with Y/N is more important. I never realized through what pain I put them okay.." Mingis hands were clenched, he was visibly distraught.

Of course, he loved boxing, it was his long passion yet he loved you so much more. Enough to give this up to be able to make you not suffer anymore and grow old together.

Getting up now Mingi gets ready to warm up, Yunho following him, the conversation is apparently not over for him yet. "Why all of a sudden?" Voices calmer now, trying to understand his best friend's decision. "I realized what pain I put Y/N through, I want to grow old with them, I want children, want to marry and.. If I someday get injured and can't be saved I would never be able to forgive myself for being so careless with my body." Yunho could understand him, of course, he could. Yunho had been through the same years prior with his wife, yet he never had the potential Mingi had either. "Listen I understand but.. Have you thought this through?" Mingi sends him one last glance, making it known that he is serious.

Leaving the man alone, for now, Yunho goes back to the students he currently has. He can't be mad at Mingi, boxing is dangerous, he knew that, yet it was sad to see a rising star stop mid-air.

"I'm home!" Mingi calls out, noticing the sweet smell of baked goods in the air, making his way to the kitchen. "Mingi! I made some cupcakes! Come on taste them!" Pulling him over, you shove a sweet pastry into his hands, the buttercream decorated with colorful sprinkles. Upon taking a bite, he notices the cream on your face, wiping it away softly with his thump. And now he could see it, this was what he should live for. Your smile, your backed goods, you. Your future children and grandchildren. Growing old together.

Leaning his body down, he presses a kiss to your lips, being able to taste the sweetness of the cupcake he just ate. His hands put the cupcake away to hold your hips softly. "I love you so much, so so much." Pulling you against him, locking your lips again with his own ones. Left hand gliding up to hold the side of your face, his thump caressing your cheek softly.

The rest of the week passes by in a rush, Saturday evening arriving, you're now sitting watching Yunho massage Mingis shoulders talking to him quietly. You were glad that this would be the last time, yet dread filled you knowing you'd have to patch your boyfriend up again after the fight. Soon it started, Yunho walking around the ring, shouting to Mingi who was holding up quite strong. His opponent was not really a big deal for him, Mingi being probably almost double the size of him.

The fight continued, Mingi took in some bad hits but the other one was much worse. Being on the brink of giving up, you could see it on his face. Finally, Mingi got him down, the countdown starting, fans cheering as Mingi threw his fits up into the air. Yunho himself was jumping around screaming happily. Before running over to you and pulling you up, looking confused at Yunho now as he pulls you to the ring Mingi was in, microphone in his hand now.

"I know everyone loves to watch me fight, but despite my joy for it, I never noticed how much I hurt someone dear to me with it. The person who despite being in pain on the inside while watching me, still supported me. The person I want to grow old with." Mingi was talking, reaching out for your hand and pulling you into the ring with Yunho's help, stopping you in the middle. "The person I want children with and I want to marry. So today was my last fight! I will be retiring from fighting, but there is one last thing I have to do in this ring!" Mingi was holding your hand in his, looking into your eyes with so much love and warmth. While you tried to mirror it, you couldn't help the look of confusion.

A gasp now leaving your lips as you watch Mingi get down onto one knee, pulling out a velvet box from his left pocket. Eyes meeting your glassy ones. "You're the love of my life, my motivation.. my lucky charm so will you marry me?" A soft yes was pressed out of your lips, as tears threatened to fall, Mingi put the ring on your finger before standing up, pulling you into his arms and lifting you up. "You just made me the happiest man on earth! I love you so much!" His lips find yours, as the lights of cameras go off around you capturing this memory forever.

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live-laugh-lenney · 2 months

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Idk if you’ve seen g-xix’s posts about Arthur’s boxing days and it has got me on my kneeeees😭😭 like imagine being at an event he’s fighting at as a guest or even the venues first aider👀 u get to wipe the blood from his face and look after him and he’s staring at you while u work and you don’t even notice because ur so focused on making him better and u look up and just make eye contact uuuuuugh!!!!!

stop ittttt...

"you're so pretty," he mumbles softly, "so pretty."

"okay, arthur, how hard did you get hit?"

he cocks a confused eyebrow in her direction, which sent an intense stinging pain across his face from the open wound that was bleeding from behind the hairs of one of his eyebrows, wincing softly before the pain subsided from the way his skin stretched to accommodate his expression. his face was aching; his eyes were sore and watery and his cheeks still felt like they were being hit, head throbbing from the way he'd been punched and knocked back, and his eyebrow was pulsing as blood dribbled down his cheek.

this was a tame injury compared to what she had dealt with before as a volunteer first-aider.

where she was still in university, she was looking for opportunities to help push herself higher in the world outside of her uni walls and that would give her a resumé that would knock the socks off her any of her future employers when she was let free from education. she took up a volunteering job, having been trained in the job beforehand, that involved being able to help people and being there as a lookout if things went sour.

so a split eyebrow was nothing compared to the broken noses she had seen or the fractured eye-sockets that she'd had to send off for further attention so she was glad arthur wasn't badly injured enough to require hospital attention and a stay in a patient's ward.

"i didn't get hit that hard but if you think this is bad then," he leans a little closer in her direction and brings his voice to a hushed whisper, "you should definitely see the other guy."

she snorts out a laugh of amusement and his lips cock up into a grin, that was almost a cocky looking smirk, and she busies herself and her hands by reaching for cotton-wool balls and some disinfectant to soak the material in so she could clear up the dried blood on his skin.

she did know of arthur around university.

she'd bumped into him and his friends a few times on her nights out, when she had no volunteering and had no work to finish before her deadlines, and she was forever walking passed him in the corridors on her way to her lectures and they never shied away from saying 'hi' to each other... she found him cute, in an endearing way... a way that made her want to get to know him a little more.

"i've seen the other guy. i was watching the whole thing," she admits, head dipped down as she focused on soaking the cotton (as well as her fingers) in the disinfectant solution in her hand, "i never knew you were a boxer."

"i needed something to keep myself fit," he shrugs, eyes completely smitten with staring at her; the way she moved so elegantly around the small medical room of the hall they were in, the way she was so gentle with everything she did, how focused she was on her job, "you got the gruesome side to all of this."

"i like helping people."

and, deep down, arthur's heart softened because... of course she did.

when she looked back in his direction, bowl full of soaking cotton-wool balls held tight in her hand, his eyes darted somewhere else in the room. a poster, which detailed the human body, becoming a lot more interesting than being caught watching her.

"arthur-"

"i wasn't-"

"no, i just need you to look directly at me so i can clean the cut," she says softly and he didn't realise just how close to him she was, almost standing between his dangling legs, and the smell of disinfectant was strong in his nose, "i won't bite."

she uses her free hand to guide his face into a better position, under the light so she could see how clean his wound was, and his stubble was sharp against the pads of her thumb and fingers. as she went to look at the bleeding wound, he couldn't help but look at her... eyes making eye-contact and she felt her legs turning into jelly.

"you are so pretty," he whispers softly, "believe me, please."

"arthur-"

"i should get beaten up more often," he says with a cheeky smile, "the first aider is one i'd love to see again." xx

#arthurtv #arthurtv imagines #arthurtv fics #arthurtv headcannons #arthurtv au #arthur frederick #arthur frederick imagines #arthur frederick headcannons #arthur frederick fics #arthur frederick au

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helen-with-an-a · 6 months

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The Object that stood in the way of a World Cup pt. 2

Hi. So here is part 2 (it will have more parts ahahaha - I am incapable of writing small things)

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Epilogue

Ona Batlle x Reader

Flashbacks are in italics.

TW: Injury, suggestiveness, Vilda

Word Count: 3.5k

Description: R gets hurt

It was the final 10 minutes of the game. You were exhausted. England were down 1-0 and you felt like you were fighting for your life. You had the ball at your feet as you pushed forwards. You had made a simple pass to Lucy as you started your run up the pitch. It was a perfect cross back as you arrived near the box. You could feel it, this ball was going into the back of the net.

Something icy and white hot exploded in your leg. You didn’t even know what had happened.

One minute, you were pulling your leg back for a perfect strike, and the next … agony. The silence of the crowd told you it was something bad. The lack of arguing on the pitch told you it was something really bad. You wanted to move, to stand up and continue playing. You had to stand up. All you could see were legs. The pain was growing with every second. It scared you more that people were stopping you from seeing it. That only happened when it was really bad. You were quickly becoming a danger to yourself. Thrashing around – trying to escape the pain, trying to see what was happening to your body. You were petrified. Lucy clasped one of your hands, Alex pressed a hand on your stomach, Cata held your head, and Aitana held your other hand, all attempts to stop you from moving. You think it was Mariona and Millie who were trying to keep your other leg still. All of them trying to talk to you, to calm you down enough for the medics to do their jobs.

“Hey,” Alessia called out to a frozen Ona. Ona hadn’t been anywhere near you when it happened. She couldn’t have stopped the tackle, even if she knew how to. “She needs you.” Tooney gently shoved Ona in your direction. They might not have known what had transpired that fateful day in Manchester, but they knew how deep your love ran for Ona. Alessia had shared a room with you at every international camp. She saw the red shirt you slept in. At first, she thought it was an old United shirt – until she saw the Spanish crest over your heart. The pair of them saw the kiss you pressed to Ona’s hairline as you engulfed her in a hug after the Spain game at the Euros, whispering sweet words into her ear as she finally allowed herself to cry. Tooney saw Ona gently push a stray piece of sweaty hair out of your face in the tunnel after the Euros final, standing too close to be just friends, both of your smiles blinding. They saw the book and rose you left in Ona’s cubby on Sant Jordi. They saw how Ona looked to you first before making any decisions – no matter how small. They saw the devastated Ona look on the first day back at training in January.

Your pained screams eventually snapped Ona out of it. She was suddenly shoving Cata out of the way and replacing her at your head. Even in your pain, you recognised the rough but soft hands and blunt nails that scratched your head. You stopped writhing as Ona placed gentle kisses on your hairline. You stopped screaming as Ona softly shushed you, promising everything would be fine. As the medics carted you away, all the Ona could think about was how to make this right with you. She was moving to Barca after the summer. She was fairly sure you knew, but she couldn’t know for sure as nothing had been officially announced yet. She could tell by your reactions that somewhere, somehow, she was still a calming presence to you. You had always told her that.

You were pacing around your flat. From the counter to the table, table to the fridge, fridge to the couch, couch across to the TV, TV back to the counter. You had been walking in a loop for almost an hour now.

“Amor, calm down. She’s going to call.” Ona laughed, but she was still slightly concerned.

“But what if she doesn’t?” Your voice was weaker than Ona had heard in a while.

“She will. You have received a phone call from the Lionesses every camp since you were what? 19? She will phone.” It was 3.30 pm. On the day of the Euros squad, phone calls. You knew Sarina did it randomly. She had said as much when she first became manager. That way, no one can be sure they were bubble players. That way, no one’s egos could get too big. Ona had already had her phone call yesterday. There was a flurry of Spanish, and she had been a mix of emotions. She was terrified of the camps themselves. Sleep deprivation. The harshness from the coaches. The emotional and mental abuse. The borderline physical abuse. But she was so excited to be back in Spain with her friends. She loved Manchester, but she loved being around her people, where she didn’t have to translate everything in her head first or be the last one to laugh since she had to interpret the jokes into her native language.

“But what if she doesn’t?” This was the one thing Ona disliked about you – your inability to understand just how great you were. Not just at football. Yes, you were incredibly talented. Your ability to read the pitch, to pick out players and send perfect crosses to them, your technical skills with the ball were unparalleled. She didn’t doubt a Ballon d’Or was coming your way. But you were so much more than football. You were kind, and gentle, and honest, and funny, and beautiful – so beautiful. But you couldn’t see it.

“If Sarina doesn’t call…” she began, “which won’t happen”, she added quickly as your eyes widened. “You can just be my WAG. Sound good?” A peel of laughter erupted from you. If she could make that sound escape your lips every day, she would die incredibly happy. As you were about to open your mouth to respond, a buzzing cut you off. SARINA flashed across your screen. Ona made ‘go on then’ gestures at you as you panicked for a split second.

The phone call was short and sweet—just like every other phone call. You liked that it was to the point. As you hung up the phone, Ona came charging at you, pushing you back onto the sofa and kissing across your face. “You know… I’m kind of sad you don’t get to be my WAG now.” She said as you squealed, trying to escape the onslaught of affection.

“Shush Oni. You know I’ll always support you. I’ll always watch every one of your games, and you know it.” You laughed as she settled on top of you, the weight comforting as you began to play with her hair.

“Gracias,” you whispered into the quiet a little while later. The world outside seemed so far away whenever you were with Ona. The smell of her apple shampoo mixed with her perfume and something that was indescribably Ona.

“What for?” She whispered back, afraid to break the softness surrounding the pair of you.

“Everything. You always calm me down. Even if you don’t say anything. Just you being with me. I don’t know.” You laughed gently, slightly embarrassed at the confession.

“No need to thank me. I will always help you in any way that I can.” She replied as she shifted from your chest to hover over you, strong arms bracing either side of your head. “Ya sea que necesites un abrazo, un hombro sobre el que llorar, alguien con quien reír, alguien que te disuada de cualquier pensamiento desagradable que tengas en mente. I will always be here for you.”

“What if I need help in another way?” You asked shyly, shifting your hips up in an attempt to get the message across. This wasn’t the first time you had initiated sex with Ona, but you were always unsure what her answer would be – never wanting to push her too far. You would take whatever she was willing to give if it meant to could keep her in your life.

“Quieres que to folle?” She asked so bluntly. This dynamic you had with Ona was something you adored. Sometimes she would be the shy one, especially in the beginning when alcohol was required to get you into the bedroom. Sometimes she was so blasé about everything. It made your head spin in the best way.

Ona still had 10 minutes left to play. No one wanted to continue. You were integral to the English team, most of them considering you more of a sister than a friend or teammate. You were a good friend to a lot of the Spanish girls as well. You played with a lot of them at Barca, and through Ona or the others, you had met most of them multiple times. The game had lost any and all fight; the ball being passed around with little attacks from either side. Eventually, the final whistle went. Ona didn’t know how to feel. She had just won to World Cup – something she had dreamed about since she knew what a football was. But it was at the expense of her good friends. She went round and tried to comfort people, but she didn’t know how to help them.

And then there was you. Seeing you again had helped ease the ache that ran so deeply in her soul. She had known from the minute she’d left your flat in Manchester that she was the biggest idiot known to man. After a drunken night, she spilt everything to Laia and Leila. They had berated her for hurting you and herself, comforted her as she cried heart-wrenching, painful sobs into their arms, and helped her concoct a plan. A plan for what, she wasn’t so sure, but she was so desperate to see you again, to talk to you again, and if you would let her, to love you again. And then there was that stupid, reckless tackle. It was a straight red. The studs were obviously up, and she didn’t even make contact with the ball. The way you crumpled in a heap, the pure agony that was written across your face. Your leg was horrific to look at – the sight of blood and bone made Ona want to gag. She didn’t want to wait around and collect her medal. She wanted to run to wherever you were – hospital, hopefully – and help nurse you back to health if you would let her. She had tried to leave, but Vilda had been keeping a close eye on the ones that were closest to you.

You had met Vilda once. After the Spain game in the Euros, he had come up to you to shake your hand. You had refused to; you knew all about him from Ona. You knew it wasn’t professional, but you could find it in you to care. You were aware of the beginnings of a movement to stand up against the RFEF, and you hoped this would show the Spanish girls you were with them. He grabbed your shoulder roughly as you blanked him, your gasp catching the attention of those around you. He pointedly looked at his outstretched hand. You stared him straight in the eyes, shrugged his hand off you and carried on walking to Ona, wrapping your arms around her waist. It was caught on camera. You apologised to Sarina, the Lionesses, and the public for your unprofessionalism, but you didn’t mention his name in the apology.

Vilda made sure every girl received their medal, insisted everyone still stay for a minimum of an hour to celebrate the win and forced them all to get on the coach back to the hotel before finally allowing them to do as they pleased.

All of the girls from Barca travelled with Ona to the hospital. Lucy had given them the information as soon as they notified her of their plans. The room was crisp and white and smelled of antiseptic. Even the waiting room, with its plastic chairs and out-of-date magazines, had a sterile feel to it. The room was full to the brim. Every seat was taken. Your family was in a little huddle in the corner, speaking in low tones, talking to a man in scrubs. Everyone was quiet as they awaited news from your parents.

“She’s out of surgery for now,” your dad said to the expectant crowd. They have to go in again in a few days, but she’s stable.” The weight slowly crushing Ona’s heart lifted slightly at your father’s words. She had met your family a few times at games, but you had always seemed reluctant to let her get too close to them.

Ona had sat so still throughout all of it that people were convinced she had fallen asleep. She hadn’t. She was just so lost in everything she was feeling that the world around her faded into obscurity. A gentle cough from someone at the door brought Ona crashing back to earth.

“Um, I’m sorry to disturb you, but you’re the last one in here; even her parents have gone,” the nurse said. Do you want to see her?” She didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t expecting to actually see you.

“Sí,” She cleared her throat. “Um, yeh. If I’m allowed.”

“She’s in room 4, if you want to go to her” She pointed in the direction of the room you were currently lying in.

You looked so strange, lying in the bed. You didn’t look like she was expecting you to. Ona was anticipating you to look washed out and pale. But you looked almost normal like you could have been asleep in bed, not recovering from surgery and facing another one in a few days’ time.

“Hey,” your voice was a little croaky. You hadn’t seen who it was at the door. “Oh…” you trailed off as you realised.

“Is it ok ... that I’m here? If you don’t want me here, that’s fine too. Totally your call.” You had only heard Ona be so unsure of herself once before. She was always confident in herself and her abilities.

“Ona, you’re starting tomorrow,” Marc called from across the room. It was her first start for United. She wasn’t expecting it either. She had been sure she would be brought on as a sub for a little longer. It was the first Derby of the season, and she was getting her first start. It was too sudden. She couldn’t think very clearly. She was blindsided.

“Oni, estás bien?” Your sweet voice asked from beside her. That voice that she was slowly falling in love with.

“I… I’m starting… tomorrow. I’m starting tomorrow.” Her voice was shaky. You hadn’t known her long, but this was something else. She sounded so small, so unsure of herself.

“Really? Oh, my god, that’s great.” You jumped on her in excitement, her arms automatically catching you, keeping you close to her. She wanted you to always be this close to her. “We have to celebrate. Come back to mine, yeh? We could do a movie night or something. We could cook … well, actually, you could cook for me; you know how much I love your food,” you babbled excitedly. “I would suggest we order something, but with a match tomorrow, we should eat decently. But tomorrow we’ll properly celebrate after the match. We could go to that bar we’ve been wanting to go to? Have a few drinks?” You were seemingly oblivious to her nerves, too busy playing with the baby hairs.

“I’m starting tomorrow” She whispered again. “No puedo empezar mañana. No estoy listo. Esto es un error. Debería decirle a Marc que no puedo.”

“Now that Ona Batlle is complete and utter bullshit.” She hadn’t heard you swear before. It sounded wrong coming from you. “Estás más que listo. Eres perfecta.” The Spanish you were quickly picking up on sounded adorable to Ona. The way she was trying to learn and incorporate as much of her native language as possible was to make her feel more at home. She didn’t know that you had a steady streak on Duolingo that you kept up with to impress her. “You will start tomorrow, and you will have a great game.” You responded with such confidence and authority that she had no other choice but to believe you. “Now, we are going to go back to my place. You are going to cook me some of your fantastic food, and then we are going to watch a movie before having an early night.” You slipped out of her arms and took her hand, pulling her towards your cubbies.

“Umm … you can… stay … if you want to.” You answered her.

“I don’t want to impose. If you want to rest that’s fine. Simplemente me iré” She turned to leave. God, it was so awkward between you to. Everything used to be so natural.

Ona had just entered the changing rooms when she was jumped on. She knew immediately who it was, even without the excited squeal you let out. “See, I told you, you would be great. A start and the full game! Best day ever. We are most definitely going out tonight. Because Manchester is red, baby.” You chatted away as you clung to Ona’s back. Everyone around you was confused. You were never this talkative; you were always the one to soak up the atmosphere in silence, only really contributing to conversations when you had something you thought was valuable to say. Katie had seen this side of you, but she wasn’t upset. This new, chatty, happy Y/N was something they hoped would stay. They hoped your newfound confidence with shine through and you would finally realise how good you were.

After showering, you waited by your car for Ona. You were taking her back to yours before heading out for some drinks with the girls. All your attention was on her as she left the building. Ivana was chatting animatedly to her as Ona laughed, her head thrown back and the most amazing sound drifting across the car park. You knew you were falling in love with her. You had been from the moment you met her. She was shy and slightly awkward, not knowing much English, but you had quietly approached her and, with schoolgirl Spanish, introduced yourself. You liked who you were around her. She brought out the loud and carefree side of you. A side that you hadn’t let out in a long time. But you couldn’t help it, not with her around.

“You’ll catch flies” Tobin giggled as she walked past, her arm wrapped around Christen. You hadn’t even noticed you mouth was slightly open.

“Shut up” you grumbled as Ona arrived, looking concerned at your irritated tone

“Qué ocurre?” She asked immediately, trying to stop whatever was making you sad. You just shook your head, gesturing at her to get in the passenger side.

You arrived at the bar with her arm wrapped securely around your waist. Whilst she was a definite fan of your outfit – a black bralette and jeans – she didn’t like how much of you was exposed to people who weren’t her.

“Is that what your wearing?” She asked as you reached for your bag. She was wearing long sleeves and was already a little cold.

“Yeh… Why do I look not look good?” You looked down at yourself, slightly hurt but the insinuation.

“No, no … you, um, you look beautiful,” she was quick to reassure you. “It’s just … won’t you be cold?” You laughed loudly at her concern.

“Oni…” You cooed. Oni. You had never called her that before, but she liked it. It made her heart flutter in a way she hadn’t felt before. “I won’t be cold, I promised. Whilst you might think it’s freezing, not all of us grew up in Spain. I’m Northern – this is a pretty mild night for me. And besides, it's sacrilegious to bring a coat on a night out, and I’ll have an alcohol jacket for warmth fairly soon. And even after all of that, if I’m still cold, you’ll keep me warm, right?” You grabbed her hand, pulling her out of your flat with ease.

The night was full of dancing and laughter. It felt like the most normal thing to press your body against her as you swayed your hips. It felt right as she stared into your eyes, stealing a sip of the fruity drink in your hand. It felt normal as your eyes focused on her lips more than what she was saying. The way your heart pounded felt nice when her arms looped around your neck, pulling you impossibly closer. The way the world slid sideways as your lips pressed delicately against her felt like the more natural thing in the world.

“Llevame a la cama.” You wouldn’t have heard her if you weren’t already staring at her lips. It took you a moment to translate it. She could tell the moment you understood what she said. That dazzling smile spread across your face, your arms pulling her even closer to you. You didn’t even bother to say goodbye to your teammates.

“Stay … please” You called out.

I'm not too sure when the next part will be, but I hope you liked it.

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso soccer #barca femeni x reader #lionesses x reader #barca femeni #fc barcelona #manchester united #man utd #man utd women

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