#HE WROTE A STORY AND PRESENTED IT ON SLIDES

[still-got-no-idea]

THIS GUY-

HE DID THE BEST PRESENTATION-

HE MADE AN ENTIRE PLOT AND DELIVERED IT WITH SUCH ENERGY

LIKE HOLY SHIT WTF BRO-

BRO MADE PLOT

[therealcocoshady]

Hi coco!

Can you do a one shot about a younger actress reader?

There is a tiktok going viral about her saying that she likes older men and another where she is looking at marshall at an event with "fuck me eyes"?

Reader freaks out when marshall just slides into her dms but later they are spotted together at the paparazzi?

I just find it cute and awkward 💀

DADDY’S SPAGHETTI 🍝

Eminem x Young Actress Reader

Synopsis : You are a young actress whose crush on Eminem becomes public. You are mortified about it… until he slides in your DMs.

Author’s Note : I absolutely LOVED this request, I had to give it a go ❤️. I was inspired and I swear I never wrote anything that quickly. It is short and sweet and I hope you enjoy it. ☺️

You thought you were done being publicly embarrassed. Yet, life was proving you wrong. As an actress who had her start in her teenage years, you weren’t a stranger to embarrassment. From awkward casting calls to stupid deaths on TV, it was practically part of the job. However, as your career evolved, you thought it would go away. After all, you were now in a better position, able to choose the projects you were involved in and you had garnered the respect from your peers and the industry. Even the media had become more kind towards you. In a matter of years, you had gone from the awkward teen movie star to well-respected actress, and you were able to look back fondly to your early years. You even joked about how awkward you were, back then. The last thing you expected was for it to start all over again. 

You were walking the red carpet for the premiere of your latest movie, your biggest project to date. It was truly the highlight of your career : a role created specifically for you, a movie directed by someone you admired, a beautiful story told on the big screen… You had gotten your fair share of praise in the past, but you knew this was going to be your « big break ». Behind the scenes, everyone had praised your performance and told you it was « Oscars material ». You didn’t know if that was true or not, but you were on cloud nine nonetheless. When you walked the red carpet at the premiere, in a custom Elie Saab gown, everything felt right and you weren’t even stressed out when you answered the questions of a few journalists present. 

You look truly amazing, tonight, one commented. Who are you wearing ? 

Thank you ! This is a custom Elie Saab, I feel like a princess. I sort of had to dress up for this beautiful event, you replied as you tried to shift the focus on the movie. 

This is your biggest role to date, another said. How do you feel about the movie ? Have you seen it ? 

I’ve seen bits and pieces. But I’m going to discover the whole thing tonight, you said with excitement. I’m very confident. Filming with such a director was an honor and I know that the result will be great. I can’t wait for everyone to see it ! 

One thing that everybody is really excited about is the soundtrack, too, a third journalist chimed in. Eminem was involved. Have you heard the theme song yet ? 

I haven’t, you said. But it’s Eminem so I know it’s going to be absolutely fantastic ! I can’t wait to hear it ! 

You sound like you like his work. Have the two of you met ? They asked. 

Oh, I’m his biggest fan, you said with a huge smile. His music’s the soundtrack to my life ! But no, I haven’t met him… 

Tonight’s your chance, they joked. He is over there. 

They pointed to him and Eminem was, indeed, a few feet away from you. He had been a celebrity crush of yours for years and you were absolutely starstruck. He was even more attractive than in pictures ! You couldn’t help but stare. This man was oozing charisma and commanding attention. You didn’t even notice that you were looking at him with « fuck me » eyes and licking your lips. For a brief instant, you completely forgot where you were, until you heard your name being called, signaling that you had to keep walking and enter the screening room. That night, you didn’t get a chance to meet your idol, though. As the lead of the movie, people kept on coming over to you and talking to you. It was probably for the best, too. You had been starstruck enough on the red carpet ad you did not trust yourself to have a pleasant exchange with him. 

Of course, the video of you thirsting over Eminem went viral. It would have been kind of cute if other clips hadn’t surfaced. There were videos from years ago, of you talking about having a crush on him - God, you really didn’t have a filter, back then - and especially one interview where you were candid about being attracted by older men. 

What’s your type when it comes to men and dating ? The journalist asked. 

I like mature, older men, you said candidly. I’m not really attracted to people my age. 

Any physical features you’re attracted to ? 

Oh, it’s typical, you know, you giggled. Dark hair, blue eyes… I like a nice beard, too. 

So basically… Eminem ? The interviewer playfully asked. 

Oooof… You have no idea, you replied with a grin. 

Isn’t he… Old enough to be your Dad, though ? 

Let’s just say I wouldn’t mind calling Marshall Mathers Daddy, you giggled. 

At the time, this interview didn’t make much noise. It was for an indie podcast and, seeing as you weren’t too famous at the time, it sort of flew under the radar. It was kind of a harmless joke and a nod to your thirst for him, which all your friends were very much aware of. However, the video resurfaced after the viral red carpet clip, and people were quick to make edits, soberly titled « Y/N thirsting over Eminem over the years ». Your friends jokingly forwarded them to you and you know they were being playful, but to you, it was everything but fun. You were absolutely mortified. Having a crush on him was one thing, but there was a literal video of you staring at him like you were in heat. So much for being a classy movie star… 

The nail in the coffin came when Marshall was interviewed and asked to react to the video of you thirsting over him. He seemed genuinely surprised, leading to think that he wasn’t aware of the clip before the interview. All in all, he didn’t say much, he just described the whole thing as « flattering » and quickly went on to praise your performance in the movie : « We didn’t actually meet, but I saw the movie, which I worked on the soundtrack for, and she is really amazing in it. Really talented. ». Thank God, he didn’t add to your embarrassment. Your friends were going crazy over this « Come on, Y/N, he said he was flattered and that you’re talented ! That’s cute ! You should DM him or something », they encouraged you. However, you didn’t. He was clearly just being classy and not publicly embarrassing you - you did that on your own anyway. 

A few days later, however, you had the biggest surprise of your life : a DM from him on Instagram. At first, you thought it was a fake account and didn’t pay it much attention but it was clearly him, verified account, blue tick and everything. You were nervous to open it and you almost didn’t want to. What would he say to you ? Most likely something along the lines of « Please don’t mention me ever again, that’s awkward, you’re awkward and your filmography is trash anyway». It actually took you a couple of days to muster the courage of opening it. Thankfully, it wasn’t anything horrible. Quite the contrary, actually. He was in LA for the week and wanted to know if you’d have dinner with him. You were terrified and freaking out, but also excited. At first, you were reluctant - what if you embarrassed yourself ? But ultimately, curiosity got the best of you and you accepted. Surely, if he asked you to have dinner with him, it couldn’t be that bad, right ? 

A couple of days later, the two of you went for dinner and joined at SoHo House in West Hollywood. Due to both of your fame, a members-only social club was a safe pace that allowed for privacy. You were nervous, at first, and some paranoid part of your brain was scared that it would be a complete disaster, but it was the contrary. He introduced himself as Marshall and was an absolute gentleman and a sweetheart. He mentioned he had seen a lot of your movies and described himself as an admirer of your work. The whole evening, conversation flowed easily between the two of you. He put you at ease and was one of the most interesting persons you had ever met, knowledgeable on a lot of subjects and funny as hell, too. You weren’t too sure, but it also seemed like he was subtly flirting with you, though you didn’t want to get in your own head and make assumptions. He was so chill that you weren’t star struck anymore, but you were still reasonably impressed and too scared to flirt, so you simply enjoyed conversation with him. You were usually scared to meet people you admired, afraid that you’d have a terrible interaction with them that would taint your perception of their work, but the whole dinner was heavenly and you were so glad he DMed you. In his company, time seemed like a foreign concept, so much so that you had to be kicked out of the club’s restaurant, since you were the only customers left and it was 2 in the morning. 

I can’t believe we’ve been here for six hours already, you giggled. Time really flew by. 

It did, he said with a smile. I’m really glad we did this, Y/N. 

Me too, you said shyly. 

You were in the lobby, about to part ways, and your heart was beating fast. The way he spoke your name had you feeling all the feels and you didn’t really want the moment to end. He was staring at you intently while you were nervously biting your lip, trying not to say something awkward that could ruin the night. « Don’t be that person, Y/N », you thought to yourself. 

Thank you for coming, he said. When you didn’t reply to my DM, I thought you didn’t really want to meet. But I had a really great time tonight. 

Yeah, sorry I… I actually took a few days to open your message because I was scared, you confessed. I mean, we haven’t addressed the elephant in the room tonight, but I did kind of make a fool of myself on the red carpet. And when you wrote, I was kind of nervous. 

You didn’t make a fool of yourself, he said reassuringly. Nothing to be embarrassed about. It was kind of adorable. 

No need to sugarcoat it, you said nervously. You’ve seen that video of me thirsting over you… 

I have, he said as he got closer to you. I’m pretty lucky… 

A-Are you ? You asked nervously. 

Yeah… Thank God they didn’t catch me staring at you the whole night of the premiere, he continued. Because I literally couldn’t take my eyes off you. You’re gorgeous. 

Oh ? Uhm… I mean… The glam team really did a good job, you babbled. And the stylists, too. 

They really did, he said with a smile as he got even closer. You were stunning. 

I mean, it was a lot of work for me to look good, you know ? I mean I normally look like tra-… I mean, not trash but you know it’s… 

There you were. Embarrassing yourself. There was only so much time you could spend in his intoxicating presence without making a fool of yourself and, apparently, it was six hours. He was smiling and you nerves were getting the best of you. You didn’t drink too much at dinner and you couldn’t even blame it on the cocktails. Just your dumb brain making interactions awkward. Thank God the lobby was dimly lit, otherwise, he would have seen your face turn bright red. You cheeks were burning from embarrassment. 

I-I’m sorry, you said. I’m not good at talking to hot people. I mean you’re… Oh my God, why can’t I shut up ? I’m sorry, it’s late and -

I’ll help you, he chuckled as he cupped your face and kissed you. 

The kiss was soft and romantic and you could feel him smile into it. He had one hand stroking your cheek while the other one was on your waist, pulling you close to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and fully leaned into the kiss as your lips parted ways, allowing his tongue to caress yours. Thank God it was late and you were the only people there, having some sense of privacy while the kiss got more and more passionate. When he broke the embrace, Marshall grabbed your hand and pressed his forehead to yours. 

Would you like to come to my room ? He asked with a smile. 

Ok, you nodded - still a bit dizzy from the kiss. 

In the elevator, you kissed hungrily and there was absolutely no doubt as to where this was headed. You usually weren’t the kind of girl to sleep on the first date, but your five-date policy was thrown to the fire. Marshall was way too hot, way too charismatic. Also, you’d fantasized about him long enough to make an exception. If every wet dream of yours he had inhabited over the years counted as a date, this was actually overdue. You made it to the room and quickly ended up on the bed with him on top of you, nipping at the sweet spot in your neck. 

Marshall, you moaned. 

You meant « Daddy », right ? He asked with a smirk. 

You stared at him with your mouth open, almost embarrassed as you remembered your comment about how you wouldn’t mind calling him Daddy. Your shocked expression made him laugh and he didn’t give you time to reply. Instead, he captured your lips and ran his hands under your blouse. That night, you did end up calling him « Daddy », as well as screaming his name while he ravished you in every way possible until the both of you passed out from exhaustion. 

The next morning, as you woke up in his arms, you weren’t too sure what to do or say, wondering if that was a one time thing or not. However, you weren’t confused for too long as Marshall asked you on another dinner date. You saw each other as much as possible for the remainder of his stay in California. It was meant to be casual, at first, but it quickly became more and, even though the two of you were busy, you tried to make it work. Whenever he came to LA to work with Dre, he would stay at your place and, as soon as you had free time, you flew to Michigan to spend time with him. It was only a matter of time until rumors started to emerge about the two of you, though you were careful not to be spotted together. 

DADDY’S SPAGHETTI : Y/N SPOTTED IN DETROIT. 

Oscar-nominated actress Y/N was spotted in Detroit last week. She was seen grabbing a takeout order from Mom’s Spaghetti on Woodward Avenue. Through the years, Y/N has been quite vocal about her love of Eminem, but it seems like she’s doing more than supporting the Rap God’s business venture. The hoodie she was wearing does look a lot like the one Eminem was wearing a few days earlier when he was spotted attending the Lions game. Last time she walked the red carpet, Y/N was seen thirsting over the Detroit rapper. Is there a chance they could appear at the Oscars together ?

[bluesidez]

The Love Lab presents:

One Bite for You, One Bite for Me

💗 THIS IS MY 100 200 300 FOLLOWER SPECIAL!

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x AFAB!Reader

summary: One of the things you and Miguel bond over is delicious food. One day, you notice that your clothes aren’t fitting like they used to. Miguel is there to remind you how beautiful you are.

content warning: established relationship but they’re not married, 18+ so MDNI, non-Spiderman Miguel, LOTS OF MENTIONS OF FOOD AND DRINKS, weight gain, cycles, insecurity about body, alcohol, body worship, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up 🫵🏾), cunnilingus, lots of praise, a little Spanish (if wrong please lmk)

credit for art + dividers: Me! + @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

a/n: This is actually the first fic I wrote when my Miguel hyperfixation came back in full force. I based it off of this video and a comment saying that girls are usually the ones that gain weight super quick in a relationship. Please know that gaining weight is not a bad thing, especially in this story. Relationship weight can be positive and food is here to nourish your body! Also know that everyone’s body is different. Our bodies will react to things in different, unique ways. If you’re ever feeling icky about your weight/health, please take a step back, breathe, and know that you’re beautiful no matter what. There are also sources out there that can help you if your thoughts overpower your heart. Please don’t hesitate to seek help.

word count: 4.3k

To all my food-lovers and fellow plus-size girlies, kisses to you! You’re beautiful!

SPRING 🥭

“Baby!”

You grinned as you heard Miguel’s shout from the front door. His voice had a giddy tilt as if he made a breakthrough in one of his projects.

“I was finally able to stop by the new Jamaican spot before they sold out and look what I got us,” Miguel says before he slides the take-out bags across the table. “Ribs, oxtails, rice and beans, mac, and your favorite…fried plantains!”

You quickly untie the bags, happy to have a break from your research paper, and immediately get hit with the smell of spices both sweet and savory. “Oh my god! That looks incredible.”

After frantically digging around for a plastic fork, you were finally able to pull a piece of meat off the oxtail. It looked mouth-watering and tender. One bite of the meat and you’re immediately groaning, slumped in your chair. You nod your head and scrunch your face, watching as the juice from the gravy soaks into the pieces of rice stuck at the bottom of the take-out plate.

“That is so fucking good, Mig. No wonder there’s never any combos left by the time you leave work.”

Miguel just watches you eat with a glint in his eyes, happy to see you so relaxed and enjoying the food. He reaches into the second bag, pulling out two bottles of juice, “And to make it better, I got their fruit juice, made fresh daily-”

“Passionfruit and mango flavor!” Your eyes got big as you jumped up and wrapped your arms around his neck. He knew how much of a juice fanatic you were, so this drink was just the cherry on top of the large ice cream sundae that was your generous boyfriend.

“Thank you, baby,” you giggled and gave his cheek a fat smooch. You patted his chest twice and moved back to set up the table, “Now, hurry and wash up so we can eat this before it gets cold! We’ve got shows to watch.”

“Entendido, I’ll be right back”

SUMMER 🍦

You and Miguel were walking hand in hand along the Cancun Hotel Zone, taking in all the sights. Miguel’s job had given him a promotion along with an extremely high bonus, so what better way to celebrate than to use his PTO and bring the love of his life on vacation?

Granted, the area you guys were currently in was a little touristy, borderline bougie, but it was all worth it when Miguel got to see your eyes light up as you watched the turquoise waves fade into white foam along the shoreline.

You wobbled a bit while clinging to Miguel’s side, a little tipsy from the frozen paloma you drank to pair with today’s lunch. It was a waterfront restaurant with a live band so the vibes were just right for a little bit of liquid fun.

The downside was that the two of you were supposed to meet up with Miguel’s family later that evening and while you were fine with the confidence boost you were sporting, you wanted to be more alert when speaking with loved ones. Plus, you needed to give a good impression to the relatives you hadn’t met yet. It will be nice to put a face to the names of Miguel’s childhood.

“What do you say we stop and get some ice cream?” Miguel suggested, chuckling at you when you grinned up at him, ecstatic over the proposed plan.

“You know me so well,” you said, arms reaching around his waist, face squished into the side of his chest. “I would absolutely love some ice cream. Cool me down from the inside.”

Miguel chuckled and kissed the top of your head. You were especially cute when you got like this.

FALL 🍕

“Baby, check this out,” Miguel shouted, finally returning to your table with your food.

The fair was packed full of people, especially due to the pop-up food truck festival happening that same week. You had never seen more people run to get fried turnip greens and loaded fries in your life.

Still, this was just another chance to hang out with Miguel. You really didn’t care where you went with him, as long as you got to see that pretty smile.

You look down at the table and see what he brought back. Before your eyes sat the most un-Miguel order ever: birria pizza and two walking tacos, one Hot Cheetos and the other Dorritos.

“Dorilocos, Miguel. Really?” you raised an eyebrow watching him try to steady the open chip bags over some spread-out napkins.

“Amor, don’t look at me like that! I had to get them because Gabriel kept talking my ear off about this new food truck that made them better than the ones we used to eat on our trips back home. I, for one, don’t believe that for a second, so what better way to test that theory than to eat it with my baby?” Miguel gave the saddest look he could muster and slid his hand across the table, trying to convince you to indulge with him.

“Fine, fine. Don’t give me that look,” you say, pulling off a slice of the pizza, making the cheese stretch as long as you can. “Just don’t complain to me from the bathroom while your stomach fights to digest something it hasn’t had in over a decade!”

Miguel pursed his lips while shoveling as much food as he could on one Doritto, “Shouldn’t I be the one telling you that? That’s a lot of cheese, babe.”

“Oh my god, some queso tears up my stomach one time and you can’t let that go, can you?”

“It was once and yet you were in agony about it for days. I think I’m allowed to remind you at least monthly.”

“Just eat your food and leave me and my iron stomach alone. We’ll see what happens between today and tomorrow,” you quip, pulling your phone out ready to record Miguel’s reaction to send to Gabriel.

Miguel takes a bite and just leans against the table, head slumped on his clean head.

“Dios mio, he was right. This can’t be happening,” he groaned, slightly annoyed that Gabriel wasn’t exaggerating. He was also shocked at the fact that someone even came close to getting the local snack right.

You giggled behind your phone, happy that his reaction worked in your favor. You zoomed in a little more on his face, capturing him smacking his lips and licking off excess sauce. He was so zoned in on his food that he didn’t even notice you with your phone up.

“Is it good, Mig?” you asked, mirth in your voice.

He looked at you ready to answer but his eyes snapped to your camera and started to whine, “Amor, please stop recording!”

With a small smile, you made sure to add the video to your folder full of Miguel. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You just look so cute, I couldn’t help it.”

Miguel just mumbled to himself while stacking up another chip, neck heated over the interaction. “Here, just try this,” he said, holding a nacho close to your mouth.

You opened your mouth, just barely getting the chip in. Cupping your hand under your head, you begin to hum, the flavors all tangy, spicy, and savory. “I don’t know what your childhood Dorilocos tasted like, but this is really freaking good.”

“Just know that this one is only slightly better. By 0.00001% to be exact,” he said, rubbing sauce off of the corner of your lips and licking it off. The movement was muscle memory for him as he always liked to watch your face when you ate food, especially when it came to any nostalgic or homecooked dishes you never tried before. It warmed his heart to see you find comfort in his favorite foods.

“Well, I can tell you it’s 100% better than the ‘Taco Tuesday’ luncheon my job hosted last month. Nothing but unseasoned ground beef, endless black olives, and store-bought guacamole for two hours,” you respond, shuddering at the memory of soppy taco shells and your coworkers complaining about how spicy the mild salsa was.

“On second thought, this is absolutely a step up. Was the guacamole name brand at least?” He asked, peering up at you with a twist on his lips.

“I’m pretty sure it was a grocery store brand, so no.”

“Damn.”

WINTER 🍫

You were at your apartment in your bed, completely covered under the comforter with a fluffy blanket on top.

It was snowing heavily outside and you were freezing. However, your heater tended to make your apartment feel like a sauna, so you kept snatching the blanket off only to put it back on minutes later. Plus, your cycle was here. Your cramps left you lying on your side, rolling back and forth between the cool side of the bed and the warm side.

Physically, you were exhausted, but mentally, you knew you had so much to get done.

Christmas was just around the corner but you still had so many presents left to buy and wrap. Your job was doing the dreaded Secret Santa gift exchange and you were stuck wondering what gift would appeal to the stuck-up director in the accounting department.

You and Miguel were also hosting a small Christmas party amongst your friends, and there was still food left to buy. To top it all off, you were worried about your gift for Miguel, wondering if a silly little apron saying “Kiss me, I’m Irish” would hide the fact that you spent a ridiculous amount of money on some new tech he was eyeing.

You heard the apartment door open and close.

Knowing it was Miguel, you groan out dramatically.

He opens the bedroom door and peaks inside, “Baby?”

You just groan out again, “Everything hurts, Miggy.”

He comes up to bed and sits on the edge, “I know, amor. I’m sorry.” He bends down to kiss your head. “Want me to plug up the heat pack?”

“Yeah,” you say, leaning into his hands. When he gets up to grab the pack, you whine at his absence.

“I know, I know. I’m coming back,” he says, voice soothing.

Instead of turning the pack on, he removes your covers and sits back down on the edge. You shiver a little bit and he’s quick to cover your body with his, rubbing the top of your head as he kisses your temple.

“Are you feeling too bad to eat something for me?” Miguel asks, the timber of his voice settling you.

You shake your head and lean in closer to him.

“I think I want some food,” you reply, squeezing his body. “I haven’t eaten anything yet.”

Miguel tuts as he sits up and pulls you up with him, “That’s no good, baby. You have to eat so you can feel better. Your body needs it.”

You groan again and put your face in his neck, not wanting to move.

“Come on,” Miguel says, rubbing you from your back to your leg. “I got you some soup and a grilled cheese.”

“Did you get the stuff for the hot chocolate bar? For the party?” you whisper.

“Mm hm. Jumbo marshmallows included.”

You nuzzle his neck before you look at him, “Carry me to the kitchen?”

He makes a swift move to wrap your legs around his body and hike you up.

He gets up and holds you close, heading to the kitchen, “Let’s get some food in you, yeah?”

SPRING 🍇

The short spring break trip that Miguel surprised you with has been lovely. Miguel woke you with kisses down your body, taking you to the hilt with his mouth alone. You had to muffle your cries as to not disturb the neighbors in the inn. As his tongue danced inside of you, you gripped his hair with one hand and his head with your thighs. Miguel wouldn’t want it any other way.

After his first course, Miguel treated you to breakfast on the balcony. You two enjoyed looking over the horizon as you ate yogurt parfaits and fluffy omelets.

Later on, the two of you enjoyed a few tours of the vineyard and the city. The sights were beyond compare and the atmosphere was serene.

“Thank you so much for this Miguel,” you say, interrupting the silence.

“Anything for my lady,” he says back. “You’re doing great work this semester so you need the break.” Miguel stopped and turned to you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You leaned up and kissed him, hands warm on the sides of his face.

You both started to makeout for so long that Miguel forgot about the massage he had planned for you before tonight’s farm-to-table dinner.

Needless to say, he laid you out on your bed and oiled your body down. Your head was in your arms as rubbed his hands up and down your back. His hands were heaven and you felt like puddy by the time he flipped you over.

After he massaged your inner thighs he pounded you into the mattress. Something you’re sure the hired masseuse would never be able to do.

Miguel joked and called it the Miguel Magic Massage when you asked if he offered this special regularly. The price? Being his cariño, his amor, his sweetheart.

By the time dinner started, you were glowing. You felt adored and the courses were amazing.

Miguel made sure everyone knew you were his. His hand never left your thigh the entire meal, staring down the older men sitting at the end table who were looking a little too long at the dip of your dress.

You were oblivious, feeding Miguel bites occasionally and humming at how fresh and delicious everything was.

After the last course was over, the men came to you all’s side of the table quickly. All of them started to make conversation with you, plugging in their businesses, and stuffing their business cards in your hands.

It was as if Miguel was invisible. He scowls deeper when they let out hearty laughs at something you said.

“Are you fellas here with your wives?” Miguel asked loudly, completely irritated. “My wife and I have really enjoyed our time here. It’s a beautiful place for couples.”

Some of the men went red in the face flustered at Miguel catching their scheme. Others just scowled, pissed off at being interrupted.

None of them could answer his question.

You looked at Miguel, eyes heavy and relaxed.

“You gentlemen have a great night,” you said, putting your hand in Miguel’s as he guided you to the exit.

“Your wife, huh?” you asked, core on fire. It was hot watching Miguel get so worked up over you.

“Baby, they were looking at you like you were some fresh meat. Like I wasn’t even sitting there,” he grumbled.

“One of them already offered to bring me on a cruise. He’s staying right next to us,” you say, standing outside your room as Miguel swipes his card at the door. You walked your fingers up his chest, heated over the grit you could see from his profile.

He was oh so upset.

“He’s next to us? Right here?” Miguel asked, voice low.

You nodded as you bit your lip, arm around his neck.

Miguel picked you up and dragged you to the bed. You giggled a little to yourself as he plopped you down. Mission accomplished. Silently, you thank those older men. If it weren’t for their overconfidence, Miguel wouldn’t have been tearing at your clothes like he us right now.

Miguel kept you up almost that whole night, making sure that the neighbors heard your cries. Those old geezers were sure to know his name by the next morning. Buying you a ring wasn’t enough. He needed a bat.

It was all worth it to see the tired and flushed looks of their faces when you all checked out the next day.

SUMMER 🍯

“What the fuck,” you mumble, looking down at the pair of jeans you were trying to put on.

It was early morning. You had a family reunion that you and Miguel would take a bit of a drive to get to.

You made sure that everything was packed the following night. Some clothes to stay for a few days, a few snacks for the road, a book for you to catch up on, and even a crossword puzzle book for Miguel.

You planned ahead. You were diligent. So why is it that when everything else is going right, your pants decide not to button up?

You pulled at the flaps once more, trying your hardest to connect the button with the hole. It fails as they slip from your grasp. You try again, sucking in your stomach as much as you could. You get the button to snap in this time, but it’s digging unbearably into your skin. The zipper fights against you as you try to pull it up.

You huff out in frustration and the pants snap open again.

Defeated, you let out a watery sigh and look in the mirror.

Your stomach was bigger than you last remembered, fupa a little more prominent. Your thighs were also a little thicker, the jeans hugging them a little tight. Your breasts looked a little big in your shirt. The family name stretches a bit more across your bust than the original design intended. Even your face was a little chubbier than normal. When was the last time your jaw was like this? High school?

When did you get like this?

You felt your throat start to burn, a sob building in your system. You’ve always been fine with your body, loving the dips and curves. Adoring your flaws and finding beauty in what society decides is not worthy.

You knew this. You knew that you were beautiful. Why was it so hard to get that thought into your conscience?

You felt the tears roll down as you peeled the jeans off of your legs. They were especially tight at your hips and you wondered how you even forced them past in the first place.

You didn’t know what to do. It was so hot outside, so you needed something comfortable, but those jeans…you had your mind set to wear those jeans.

You rummage through your closet in frustration, pushing and pulling the clothes across the rack.

By the time Miguel found you, you were squatting in the closet, hot tears covering your face.

“Babe, it’s been almost 30 minutes and we need to head out before the work traffic starts-”

Miguel stopped in the doorway as he noticed the state of the closet, “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? ¿Que pasó, cariño?”

You wipe furiously at your face, sniffling loud as you hear Miguel push clothes to the side to get to you.

“My pants don’t fit. I don’t think anything else will fit either,” you say, stuttering out your words as Miguel gets to your side.

You let him pull you up into a standing position. You felt defeated.

Miguel looked at you and wiped away the tears that you missed. You feel horrible as your face scrunches up again, tears forming in your eyes.

“No, no, no,” Miguel says, hugging you close. “Listen to me. I know that this feels like a lot, but this is normal. Your body will always change with you. You’re still the same beautiful, gorgeous woman I met years ago and that’s not changing because you got some extra hips, baby.”

“But Miguel,” you say, voice so sad. “I feel like I just got those pants. And. Nothing else in here goes with this shirt. I’m scared that nothing else will fit-”

“And if that’s the case, I’ll buy you new clothes,” Miguel says, pressing kisses over your face. “If these clothes mean that much to you, I’ll take you to the gym. Let me work out with you, but until then, I’m loving your body as is.”

You stare at Miguel, heart beating at his revelation. He stared right back at you, daring you to question or challenge his words.

“Don’t beat yourself up over something like this. If anyone has ever let you feel insecure about your body, they’re an ass, let me deal with them. If I ever do anything to make you feel insecure, tell me. Yell at me. Question me, because as far as I’m concerned, that’s not me.”

He hiked you up on the closet island in the middle of the room. You shiver a bit as your naked legs hit the wood.

He leans closer, placing his hands on the side of you, “Now, let’s think. Don’t you have a pair of cargo shorts that match the ones I’m wearing right now?”

You whisper out a yes.

“Would you be ok with wearing those? I’m sure they fit perfectly.”

You say yes again, head leaning onto his. You could accessorize it perfectly. It would make a great couple’s look.

Miguel knew this much, he just had to get you to see it.

“I love you, ok?” he says, voice clear.

“I love you, too. Thank you,” you say.

“Anything for my girl,” Miguel says. “My beautiful girl. She’s just for me. I can’t believe it.”

Your heart beats faster as he starts to kiss down your body.

“Her face is so lovely.” A kiss to your cheek and your lips.

“She’s always working so hard.” A kiss to your neck and your collarbone. He pulls your shirt over your head.

“She makes me so happy.” A suck to your breasts as he unclasps your bra.

“Her body is beyond comparison.” A trail of kisses down your stomach, your belly twitching as his breath twinkles on along your skin. “Soft. Amazing. Irresistible.”

“Her thighs are my earmuffs.” A caress to your inner thighs. Your legs snap a bit, ticklish at his ministrations.

“Miguel?” you whimper out.

“I have to relax you before this ride. Can’t have you upset,” he says, kissing his way up your thighs to your panties. “May I?”

You nod your head, fingers grasping at nothing but then a flat surface.

Miguel was swift. He pulled your underwear down and kissed at your clit. You could only hold tight as he pulled your body forward and dove in.

It wasn’t long before you were shaking like a leaf. Miguel sucked at you for minutes, pulling a long orgasm out of your system.

He kneaded your thighs as you trembled around his tongue, humming as your legs squeezed tighter. That was the queue for him to go further, so he added his fingers to the mix, moving his mouth up so that his fingers could pump in and out of you.

It took all of your strength not to let your body drop off the other side of the island.

“Miggy, please,” you wailed. You wanted more.

Miguel looked up at you whining above him. You pull your legs up, holding your hands under your thighs, practically begging for him.

Miguel kissed up your body again. He was swift with removing his clothes. You still had to have these clothes fresh for later and Miguel was about to wear you out.

He moved to push himself inside of you, grunting as you gripped him.

He replaced your hands with his and pulled your legs up by his head. You balanced yourself on the island as he slowly started to thrust.

“So good. Just for me,” Miguel said, watching as your body moved with his movement. “Perfect. And all mine.”

You remained quiet, whimpering softly as he dragged against you.

“You heard me, hermosa?” Miguel said. “You’re beautiful. C’mon. Say it for me.”

“I’m,” you stopped, mind foggy. You didn’t know how you were supposed to respond when he was going so deep.

“Say it.”

You cried out as he snapped harder, “I’m beautiful.”

“That’s right baby,” Miguel praises you, bending further to give you a kiss. “So amazing.”

He praised you until you finished, squeezing at any of you that he got his hands. By the time he was done, your arms felt like jelly from holding you up.

He carried you to the bathroom for a quick shower, never stopping his reassurances of you.

You guys made it in the car an hour and a half off schedule, but it was worth it for the uplifted way you carried yourself throughout the day.

It was worth it to see you happy and healthy.

By the time you made it to the reunion, it was like you were born anew. You greeted your family with smiles and laughter. Miguel couldn’t help but to cheese watching you do your thing.

He felt his heart soar as you caught up with family. Your smile was the biggest as you were out on the floor line dancing your heart out. He was right up behind you when Outstanding came on. The song was really a declaration of how he felt about you.

You giggled as he crooned in your ear.

“You light my fire,” he sang, swinging your hips in time with his.

“I feel alive with you, baby,” he spins you around to him, a smile on his face.

“You blow my mind,” he pulled you out and back in.

“I’m satisfied,” you squeal as he spins you in the air and puts you back down to keep dancing.

Outstanding. You really knock him out.

Another season where Miguel adored you more.

Another season where Miguel wanted you to be forever his.

Another season where he made sure he fed you well.

Another season of you making his heart pound.

Another season of your love reaching to the fullest.

Miguel was excited for the next season with you.

As always, I hope you enjoyed reading! 💗

Any likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated. Let me know how you feel! 🥺🧁

Until next time,

-Lauro 💗

[lovexdeepspace]

Hi ! Can you make a story where reader is not the mc and is in relationship with the boys who starts to act cold and indifferent bc of mc ? (i cant choose one i love all of them 😭)

summary; what happens when the l&ds boys have a run-in with the MC that changes everything.

warnings; angst, hurt, strained relations

note; my first request!! thank you so much for the love on my works, i’m so happy i can entertain with my writings!!

!! divider by @cafekitsune !!

༊*·˚ xavier

you were curled up on xavier’s couch, engrossed in some cable drama that you had originally put on for background noise while you tidied. you didn’t even blink when the front door open and shut, signaling xavier’s arrival.

"how was work, xav?" you called, glancing over at him as he tossed his jacket onto the loveseat. you subconsciously leaned over as he approached the couch, your lips pursed as you awaited the usual ‘i missed you’ kiss that became a routine thing. however, he walked right by you and headed to the kitchen, eyes on his phone.

"it was fine," he responded absentmindedly, pocketing his phone and rummaging through the fridge. "i’m real tired, though. think i’m gonna head to bed early tonight."

you turned off the tv and stood, coming up behind him. your arms wrapped around his waist and you pressed your cheek to his back, sliding your hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

"are you okay?" you murmured, giving him a comforting squeeze. "did something happen at work today?"

xavier shut the fridge and put his hands inside the pocket as well, over yours. "i’m okay. just tired is all."

he pulled your hands out of his pocket and turned to face you, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before shuffling off to the bedroom. you frowned and wrote it off as a tough day, thinking it was just a once in a while thing.

until it became an every day sort of thing.

over time it grew more and more obvious that there was something else going on with xavier outside of work — he would come home later, his already kind of spotty communication became worse, and then the affectionate gestures became a chore to him.

you would try to hold his hand? oh, he needs to hold his phone or it's in his pocket suddenly. want a hug? expect one of those brief side-hugs. expecting a kiss? quick peck on the cheek at most.

it was heart-wrenching, watching the man who had loved you like you had hung the moon in the sky for years suddenly stop. the thoughts of where things had gone sour commanded your mind day and night, searching for the answer tirelessly. then, one day, the answer presented itself to you out of the blue.

or, rather, she presented herself to you.

you and xavier were spending a quiet (not by choice) morning in the cafe when a woman approached, calling xavier's name. you noticed the way he straightened and the way his eyes lit up before he quickly covered it up. your heart shattered but you swallowed the hurt, smiling at the woman as she looked between the two of you and introduced herself to you. xavier invited her to sit with you two and she accepted, allowing you front row seats to watch the man who was supposed to love you fall in love with someone else.

༊*·˚ rafayel

work had finished early today, leaving you the afternoon to do as you pleased. seeing as your last mission was located just a couple blocks from rafayel’s studio, you took it upon yourself to pick up some snacks from the cafè to surprise him since he had been working hard for days on end now.

with pastries in hand you walked up the pathway to the mo art studio, a skip in your step as your excitement became palpable. as you go to open the door it swings open for you, revealing not rafayel but a woman you’d never seen before. you faltered for a second as she brushed by you with a muttered apology, heading the way you came.

probably just some fan of his work, you thought to yourself as you headed inside. kicking off your shoes at the entryway, you head for the main room and find rafayel lounging on his couch. he sat upright once he noticed you, squaring his shoulders and forcing a grin.

“you’re here,” is all he said to you, a stark contrast to his usual witty comments on how you just couldn’t seem to stay away for long.

“work ended early, so i thought i’d bring you some snacks,” you replied, placing the paper bag on the coffee table as you took a seat next to him. “how’s the painting coming out?”

“fine,” he replied, digging into the bag and pulling out a tart. you waited for him to continue, to whine and complain about thomas or some media outlet being on his ass about something but nothing followed his curt response.

“so,” you drawled, filling the silence, “another fan found your address?”

rafayel’s brow furrowed and he swallowed before asking, “what do you mean?”

“the woman who left when i came,” you pointed out, a heavy feeling settling in your chest. “a fan of your art?”

rafayel shook his head, leaning back against his couch with a wistful smile. “oh, her? don’t worry about it, just a deepspace hunter looking into some things about my paintings.”

you wanted to not worry — truly you did — but something about the whole thing just didn’t sit right with you. despite the nagging feeling in your mind, you went to place your hand over rafayel’s so you could focus on something else. just as your pinky finger was about to interlock with his, he quickly pulled his hand onto his lap.

with a small nod, you stood and mumbled, “i’m gonna head home.”

you hoped that rafayel would say something — better yet do something — to get you to stay but no, he was off in his own little world, staring out the window at the sea. fighting back tears, you take your leave, slipping on your shoes and heading back towards the streets.

the sunny day was no longer warm and welcoming but hot and suffocating with your heart drowning in pain at the idea of the man you loved with all your being and more having someone else.

༊*·˚ zayne

things between you and zayne had always been kind of like a scale — some days it would lean to one side, some days the other.

he was stoic yet sweet, soft and caring in just the right moments. the times you were together were some of the most blissful times you could ever have imagined. just the right amount of intimacy, domesticity, and partnership that a relationship needed to blossom.

this would be outweighed, however, by the days straight without communication but you always chalked it up to his profession and never really had too much of an issue with how things went. you couldn’t begin to imagine the amount of stress that a doctor took on, especially in the day and age of wanderers. so, like a good partner would, you did all you could to be as supportive as possible in every way he needed.

from homemade lunches to silently holding him in your arms after a rough day, there was nobody better for him than you.

one morning after you had stayed the night, you woke up to a text from him asking if you could deliver his lunch that he’d left on the table. after sending a quick reply to assure him you’d swing by in a bit, you got out of bed and found some clothes folded neatly on top of the dresser for you.

soon after getting yourself together, you grabbed zayne’s lunch and packed one for yourself, deciding that it’d be nice to have a meal together in his office again since it had been some time since the last one. you enjoyed the brisk walk to the hospital, soaking up the early spring sun.

yvonne gave you a polite wave as you walked past the receptionist’s desk and down the hall towards zayne’s office. you knocked once before opening the door, stopping short as you noticed a woman sitting on the couch beside him.

“my bad, i didn’t know you had a patient,” you said with an awkward chuckle before holding up his lunch bag. “brought your —”

“just leave it on the desk,” zayne interrupted, nodding toward the desk in the corner. “thank you.”

“yeah, no problem,” you replied, doing as asked. you stand there for a second longer and zayne cleared his throat, gesturing towards the door. “oh, sorry. i’ll, uh, see you later then?”

your statement switched to a question when zayne raised an eyebrow at you, quickly shutting down any confidence you had. with a curt nod you exited his office and left the hospital, mind clouded as you aimlessly wandered until you found yourself at the park. sitting on a bench you took out your lunch and began to eat until you couldn’t stomach anything anymore with the image of zayne and the woman on the couch burned into your mind.

the way they were shoulder to shoulder; her hand centimeters from his knee; his eyes, usually icy and reserved, looking at her with a sickening fondness that you only saw from time to time; the way he addressed you not as a partner, but as someone who had intruded on something so important to him.

the way he was smitten, fallen in a way you had never seen in the year and some change you’d been together.

[httpdwaekki]

bright | h.h.

summary: you have a light sensitivity and forget your sunglasses but hyunjin is kind enough to give you his.

wc: 800

a/n: i wrote this in hopes to reach more of stayblr, the lovely @astraystayyh and many other wonderful writers (including myself) are writing requests for anyone that is willing to donate to her fundraiser to help people in gaza! all you have to do is donate and send proof to one of the writers along with your request! (please do make sure you read writers rules for requests first! and be aware they have a right to say no to the request.) remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3

(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)

it wasn’t a secret that you had trouble with any kind of light, the sun, lamps, phone screens, etc.

sometimes you were okay but other times any type of light could cause a migraine unlike anything else. because of this you always kept a pair of sunglasses on you just in case.

well apparently not always, today you had rushed out the door to meet hyunjin, the shaded lens forgotten on your counter.

you were sat outside at a small cafe, waiting for hyunjin to return. both of you wanting to enjoy the last of the spring before the summer heat. you were oblivious to the missing object, opting to go without them for a bit, but that didn’t last long. soon after your eyes felt strained, a familiar dull ache presenting itself behind your left eye. 

you look in through your bag, searching for the darker lens that weren’t there. you sigh, the ache still coming in waves, growing stronger with each one. luckily there was an umbrella so you decide to ignore it and enjoy your time with your boyfriend.

you place your bag back on your chair, as the pretty brunette approaches your table, drinks and food in hand. his signature versace glasses slipping down his nose, dopey grin present on his face as he places the tray on your table.

you return the grin, scrunching your nose as he flicks the glasses atop his head. he sets your drink and your food in front of you before sitting in the chair across from you. you both enjoy your drink and pastries, catching up and enjoying each others company.

the sun decided to shift, causing the sun to shine directly on you, the dull ache becoming sharper. you squint your eyes, attempting to hide the wince in pain with it. you place your hand above your eyes, giving yourself a bit of shade, focusing on hyunjin’s story.

“so he came to stay at our dorms for a bit to “escape the loud rage of felix because he sucks at league and it’s not changing anytime soon.” his words not mine.” he explains, as you giggle at the absurdity of his story. “ so seungmin’s solution was to go to the dorm that housed the loudest member in the whole group?” you asked, softly chuckling.

“that’s what i said!” you smile at his outburst, switching hands as your arm got tired. hyunjin tilts his head at the action. “angel?” you hum, looking at him, eyes squinted. “why don’t you put on your sunglasses?” he asks, pointing towards your bag.

“oh i forgot to grab them when i left, it’s okay though.” you give him a reassuring smile before leaning forward into the shade, taking a bite of your croissant.

he knew your eyes and most likely your head was hurting you, and you were trying to put on a brave face. he grabbed the shaded lens currently holding back his soft locks, leaning forward, sliding the lens carefully onto your face.

you jump in surprise, letting out a squeak before relaxing. you send him a small pout as he sits back in his chair, running a hand through his hair, pushing it back. “what’d you do that for?” you ask, pushing the glasses up your nose.

“because, i know your eyes are probably stinging and if you don’t have a headache now, you’re definitely on your way to one.” he replied, taking a sip of his drink. “what about your eyes?” you asked, frown still present.

“don’t worry about mine, do you want to sit over here in the shade?” he asks, moving as if he’s gonna get up. you shake your head, moving to stop him. “no no, i’m okay, you stay.”

he scoots his chair over slightly, still in the shade, “come on, move your chair.” he waves you over. you roll your eyes before getting up, moving your chair towards the dimmer area, sitting down.

“i was fine over there.” you glare at him over the black shades.

he rolls his eyes before leaning over slightly, wrapping his arms around you. “will you just let me take care of you please?” he asks, placing a quick kiss to the back of your head. “plus i know you were 2 minutes away from a headache.” giving you a knowing look.

now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “yeah yeah.” you concede, admitting defeat. “thank you, my love.” you say, turning to him, placing a kiss to his cheek. “anything for my muse.” he smiles, placing a chaste kiss to your lips before letting you go.

the rest of the day was spent walking around, enjoying the weather and a quick trip to the versace store to buy you your own matching pair of sunglasses.

do not repost

[thesamoanqueen]

Bimini Dream

A/N: When I wrote it the mood was completely different, it was an inspiration born from a friend suggestion, but seemed correct to me wait before posting it. It has nothing to do with what happened and I won't write anything about it for the same reason I haven't published this story until today, Roman is a character/Joe a real human being and there's a big difference for me. Breaks are useful to understand what our priorities are, unfortunately life is not always a dream or a vacation, but we all should appreciate what we have.

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, 18+ Inspired by Naked - Doja Cat

Giving up his spot hadn't been what he imagined, what he had prepared himself for. It had been difficult, exhausting, even more so after the first few weeks. Four years had the ability to make everything a habit and when the time for big projects had arrived, the impulse had still been to be present no matter what had happened. Your relationship had been put to the test. Roman had seen you angry, frustrated, disappointed even, troubles in paradise that Roman didn't want and risked taking away more than a belt from him. You wanted the best for him, the best for the new chapter of his, your, life together and he couldn't get it with old habits, you were right, as always. So he had learned to control from afar, focusing on the next project, without answering every call or request that didn't personally concern the work he had pending. Months had passed, a time in his mind that was confused, short and even endless, but the well-deserved vacation had finally arrived. Not a one-day break between filming, interviews and meetings for new projects, a real vacation with his woman.

A paradise for the two of you. Made of palm trees and crystal water, fresh sheets and feet sinking into the damp sand of a private club in Bimini. Days spent away from chaos getting drunk and kissing, caresses and massages to take away the memory of punches and bruises, your laugh in his ears at all hours. You were happy and carefree like a lil girl again and Roman was unable to take his eyes off you in those moments, sure of wanting this for your entire life together.

His eyes scanned you, as you slipped out of the sundress just beyond the threshold of the private area, your thong bikini to greet him provocatively between soft curves dirty with sand and salt. The sound of a song hummed all the way to the dining room table to grab some fruit and disappear onto the balcony overlooking the beach. Just the time to get a drink for himself and attracted like a sailor by his mermaid, Roman followed you out, sitting on the sofa to enjoy the show you were delighting him with. The wavy movement of your hips is hypnotic, the water sliding between your barely covered breasts is an invitation as dangerous as your fingers, busy washing a day of snorkeling off your skin. The taste of fruit and alcohol on his tongue unable to wash away his thrist and your eyes finally finding him, as bright as the familiar smile forming on your lips.

- "Why are you looking at me like that?" – he hears you ask, continuing to massage your thighs.

- "You' enjoying yourself"

It wasn't a question, but pure pride, the reward for his efforts. He would have given you anything if you had only asked, spoiling to the point of forcing you to say enough, his absolute priority was you, the pulsating engine of his continuous success. He couldn't have looked at you any other way than with adoration, gratitude. Always there for him, always ready to support and push him.

- "I’d have more fun if you came to keep me company" – you mutter, a playful pout and a hand reaching out to call him.

And how could Roman say no to you? He didn't want to, he had never been capable of doing so, and putting down the drink, he freed himself from his tank top to join you under the cool water of the shower, his hands quickly finding your body, those curves where his muscles fit like a puzzle to reveal the rough skin under his fingers.

- "You're still covered in sand" – he notices, cleaning you carefully, while you lean forward, filling the space between you two until your breaths mix.

- "Nope, it's brown sugar scrub, you wanna taste it?"

A whispered offer, almost a secret, even though you already knew his answer. He had always been a hungry man, but you awoke a feverish need in him, the urgency to consume you and be consumed furiously as soon as your eyes met in a complicit silence.

- "Mmh you keep testing me" – he noted, placing an innocent kiss on your nose, already feeling your fingers free him from the bun and copy with a real kiss.

Flavor of mango and dragonfruit surrounds him, an inviting aftertaste when your teeth bite into him slowly, eliciting a dangerous moan from him that makes you smile devilishly, drawing Roman even further under the water. His hands stop you, gripping your round hips, dark locks dripping onto your breasts. The silence of the empty beach not far from you two, now filled by the sound of close breaths, growing tension making Roman’s muscles tense and your core soften.

- "‘cause you’re too good" – fingers caressing his broad chest, running your nails over the shiny tattoo up to his broad shoulders, to lock behind his neck – "now can we get naked?" – you finally ask.

The new offer is not a secret nor whisper, there was nothing playful about it, just pure desire and Roman is a good man, but sure not a saint, so he grabs you by the back of your neck, forcing you to tilt your head, watching in admiration as your breathing stops for a moment already, a silent moan for his sudden commanding behavior leaving your honey lips.

- "Strip for me babygirl, slow, show me first" – he orders against your ear, licking away his own words before taking a step back, just one and enjoying the show.

Your hands leave him sadly, but you obey, moving your wet hair from your shoulder to play with the thin string holding up your colorful bikini top. You pull it down, slowly, stretching the fabric until the bow comes undone and Roman watches it fall at your feet like anyone should have. He follows your fingers caress from your collarbones to your breasts, full and perfect for his hands and passes one over his face, moving away his hair, while yours slide down the belly he loves to kiss down to what he loves to eat. Bimini had its own fountain of eternal youth, Roman's was there between your soft thighs, always ready to welcome him, juicy and tasty like the fruit you wrapped your lips around every day for breakfast. He watches you turn, eye over your shoulder and crouch down to take off your thong, leaving it to keep company to the top. When you get up Roman can't hold back a sound of approval, eyes glued to the two brown hills that you rub on his already hard boner, and then turn around and caress him.

- "Why you keep standing there? Don't you want to slip into something more pleasant?" – your body presses against his, breasts tickling his muscles - "… maybe me?" – you invite him and his mouth finds yours without waiting a second more.

Neither of you tries to go easy, you kiss without haste, but consuming each other, cool water sliding on your heated bodies like Roman's tongue on yours. You suck on his lips as he maneuvers you to have total control and you let him do it, abandoning yourself against the wall to free him from the swimsuit he kept on for your day together. Roman kicks it away without care, growling hoarsely into your mouth as he feel you gripping his dick in your hands, torturing the head with a soft thumb until he break the kiss with a heated moan. He presses his forehead to yours, letting you prepare him, your mouth trailing kisses down his neck and shoulders, biting into sun-tanned skin and licking away water drop by drop.

- "There's no where else I'd rather be" – he squeezes your hip, smashing his other hand against the wall, your nipples rubbing against his chest and you smile.

- "I love how you look at me… makes me feel so special" - you meow against his mouth and it's enough to make him snap.

Oh, special would be an understatement to describe you.

Roman lifts you up effortlessly, his large hands on your round ass, letting your legs wrap around his hips like a belt. He would have gladly worn you for the rest of his days, anywhere, without shame if only it were possible, sinking into your soft folds sweeter than any victory. He watches as you throw your head back, shaken by the pleasure that hits both of you in finding each other and he takes the opportunity to suck your neck, giving a couple of lazy thrusts, to spread you and savor the spasms of your center that gets used to the presence of him. Your arms hold him, lips ready to cover him with soft kisses on his temples and freckles, fingers laced in the dark locks of his hair to pull them, make him growl and guide him to you.

His attentions will leave a mark on you, but neither of you cares. You have nothing to hide, you belong to each other and you both show it with pride. No one will pass by that beach, Roman had paid good money for your paradise and he didn't regret it at all. Everything to make you smile.

- " nhm… you're getting wet as fuck" – he hums, adjusting his posture to increase the pace.

His hips become more commanding as he feels you give in and with his face buried between your breasts, he works you without going all the way, spending his time playing your nipples, devouring and licking the sensitive flesh to reduce you to a gorgeous panting mess. Your nails dig into the back of his neck, onto his shoulders, your head resting on him, almost a hug, bodies impossible to separate and on his tongue that aftertaste of brown sugar.

- "R-Ro… ahn, keep doing that" – you moan, holding him against you.

His name belongs in your throat like a jewel, the kind of gift no one else could give you because only Roman knows what you need to satiate your thirst, what touch makes your body shivers and what is needed for a lovely bow. He grins, he knows not going deep makes you even more needy, he feels your heart hammering like the water falling at his feet, your moods dirtying his hard cock. Then he stops torturing your breasts, letting your body slide a little further down and the moan with which you delight his ears feeling him entirely Roman swallows it as he kisses you. Squeezed between the wall and his massive body, with no chance of escaping him, he moves an arm under your thigh to a new angle that makes you scream with the first thrust.

- "Hm, it's so g-good… God… more- more-" you beg, your gaze liquid, lips swollen.

- "I own this pretty pussy, hmm is mine. I know how to make her sing…" - he growls, pushing himself between your folds until you throb.

A satisfied smile spreads uncontrollably on his face, pride, possession, desire, love, a mixture in his guts that burns where your bodies are united and from which Roman cannot take his eyes off, mesmerized by the sight of your honey spread all over his flesh now that you are stretched to perfection. He watches your walls suck him in, clinging to the veins on his skin, hips moving incessantly, while your pleas become louder in his ears increasingly dizzy with growing pleasure.

- "P-please… Ro… there" – he knows where you want it, he knows what he has to do to see you faint in to his arms.

And he hits that spot, without mercy, giving you what you want, focusing on that weak point able of making you breathless and driving him to madness. The spasms of your body, soaked and panting, are shocks inducting him into a sort of competitive trance, his hands hooked at your side, at that thigh bent almost to his shoulder to have complete access to your core. You tremble, his flesh swelling your center every time he pushes into you, making him growl excitedly, sight matching the furious sensation of the now imminent climax. Your moans become strangled cries and then Roman shifts his gaze to your face, to intercept your almost desperate expression, the one that always anticipates your orgasm. When it finally arrives, he feels your nails digging into the flesh of his forearms and your voice fades into a delicious cry, he kisses you, hammering your sweetest spot without stopping for a second and he watches with pleasure the violent tremors of your body.

- "My precious girl… cum, you're so f-fuckin gorgeous" – he growls obscenely against your lips, seeing you open your eyes again with a lost expression, your hips swinging to meet his thrusts and please him too.

- "G-give it to-to me" – you beg, but it wouldn't even be necessary.

He finally puts you down, still holding you by the hips to avoid your legs playing a nasty trick and he enters you from behind, this time sinking completely, one hand on your ass to spread your soft buttocks. You meow, your sensitive center trembles from his intrusion and Roman throws his head back smugly, licking his lips, feeling the water run over his face and your hot folds around his flesh. He slides deep, his cock covered by your white nectar and energies gathering at the bottom of his abdomen ready at any moment to explode inside you. You are soft, familiar, holding you in his arms is a sensation capable of making him feel at peace with the world. Your hips roll tiredly, giving him everything you have and Roman thrust to take it, pounding deep inside you, the furious ecstasy of heat building every time his balls slap you making your back arch against the wall. He gave you what you wanted, always before himself, but now it's his turn. It's a violent, rough ride during which your sweet whispered words mix with his hoarse moans, legs burn, while he lowers his head and finally abandons himself to the wave that suddenly hits, dragging him inside you. The climax is overwhelming, Roman gasps, everything in him seems to empty inside your core, his hips fit into the beautiful curves of your body, mind blank and body unable of wasting a single drop of himself outside.

One of your hands finds him, resting on his forearm in a silent caress and when the hot wave it's finally over, Roman lowers himself onto you, placing a kiss on your back as you smile tiredly. You’re the one who breaks away from him, because for Roman it's an impossible feat he never tries to accomplish.

- "Such a hard working man" – you joke, wrapping your arms around him again.

Water slides against his back, washing away sweat and moisture from both your bodies, while he cradles you, your face pressed against his chest. Roman places a kiss in your head, a satisfied and soft smile on his face as he feels you hold him, so precious and for a moment the two of you stay there, until he’s again stable enough and he drags you out of the shower. You folllow, already knowing what he has in mind, fingers agreeing to leave him just long enough to wrap both of your bodies in white towels before walking back inside. Another refreshing glass to rehydrate and you and him collapse on the bed, hugging each other between the scented sheets, lulled by the sound of water and your breathing.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @expert-texpert @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @sortudademais @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @darqchilddaydreamz @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @joannasteez @reignsx @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @333creolelady @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @dreamsinfocus @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @smile1318 @headoftheetable @wrestlingprincess80 @tribalauthor

[jolapeno]

post-mission

simon ghost riley x f!reader | cod: ghost masterlist

summary: what do you need? three letters, one word: you. aka the time you fuck ghost after a bad mission.

wordcount: 2k warnings: smut. like post-mission fucking, kind of smut. an: look, i blame replaying the mw2 (2022) campaign. but this has been rotting me and it could have died in the drafts or i could post it. the latter won.

It takes a bad mission for things to move from stares and almost touches into something else.

You're fucked up. Your skin aching from how you’ve tried to scrub yourself in the shower until the water cooled and your skin turned goose-pimpled. At least your brain feels empty. A blessing; a gift.

Exiting steam and dressing in fresher clothes as a shell of a person, dragging yourself for food, feigning normalcy, routine. Tiredness plays a part, on more sleep the outcome of the mission wouldn't eat away at you.

You still choose to not let it win, the what ifs and buts. Even if they're scraping out whatever sense you’d usually have. Leaving behind autopilot, allowing existing but with little purpose—feeling drained, yet wired.

Fork scratching at your plate, you shift the veggies and protein around as the dull grumble of conversation happens around you. Hearing your callsign, offering a smile. It's muted, but present.

You remind yourself present is at least good.

It's not until you leave your tray do you wonder if you've taken a bite, even if half of the food is gone and you can taste peppers on your tongue. A thing you mull over. Turn. Feet moving, shifting like an aimless figure down corridors until you’re stopped, halted. A gloved hand on your shoulder, turning you until you face the hulking figure you’d already suspected, but find confirmed.

He says your call sign before he whispers your name. Like it's a dirty secret. It makes you smirk.

You good? It's a simple question, one whispered in the quiet corridor. He follows up with another as though understanding. One all but offered, provided, a granted opportunity:

What do you need?

Ghost, or Simon, won’t share that he’s worried. But it’s there, hanging like fairy lights in his eyes. Just like he doesn’t say that he’s followed you, because the evidence is already stacked on that. But he burns the same question into you as he did when you disembarked from evac, as though you’d unspool all your answers. You didn’t then, wouldn’t now.

You’re not sure what you want, what you need.

But your chest is tight and your bones feel heavy. He reads you, must do, because his frame begins to cage, a hand on the wall making you nurse your lower lip between your teeth. On other days, you’d wish for this, for a moment alone, to push his buttons and watch his eyes shift in the slits of the fabric that shields his face.

“Jus’ tell me.”

Thoughts—thick and hurrying—flood. A reply, words that could, and maybe would string into a sentence bubble on your tongue, ones like: to have looked over the plan again, to have used a second of critical thinking—

But thick fingers take your chin, lift eyes to one’s shrouded in darkness—beacons of something, safety, a chance.

“Read your report.” You make a noise, before swallowing—feeling his gloved fingers skate further along your jaw. “Y’did good.”

It’s easier to snort, to try and dip your chin and fight his hold. Blink back tears and not appear weak and slide down the wall in front of him.

You know what you wrote, and you know what you thought. That it was an out-of-your-hands situation that you watched burn to the ground on your elbows and back. Shitty information, bad intel, it lucky that those who went in somehow came back alive, with limbs and stories. Pen scratching at the paper, anger infused between the nub and the words you cut into it.

“What do you need?”

Three letters, one word. It croaks out, important, weighted.

Unbeknown what corridor you are on, until he opens a door and you find yourself willingly shoved inside of it. Dark, eyes adjusting to outlines of things and furniture, but knowing it’s his. You can smell it.

Gunsmoke, tea leaves and earthiness.

Things which have clung when the two of you have stolen moments next to one another. When idle chatter became tinged flirting, when your eyes dragged themselves south of his face, lingered, fuelled by adrenaline, I think I could take it, Ghost. It was a crossed line, but his frame hadn’t moved from leaning against yours, stars twinkling above, the bellowing of the others inside. Knowing you, you’d die trying.

He wasn’t wrong, never is.

Always seeing, spotting—forever seeing you.

A thing that has made your hand dip between your underwear in the middle of the night, fingers not even close to the thickness of him as you sought pleasure, gratification. The scent of him having nestled into your nose months ago, in some bar in the middle of fuck knows, his elbows close to yours—a glass in your palm, one in his. The answer to his question acidic on your tongue: what makes you think I like you? The ice had clanged against the glass, staring, bolder than you’d been prior. Don’t see you undressing Gaz, Lt.

He’s undressing you now.

Removing every basic item on your skin until you’re naked and aiding him in the removal of his belt, of his issued trousers and the rest. The final is the balaclava, the thin one he wears on base. A thing you don’t motion for, but his hands guide you to, silent permission given. An offering of trust. A different kind of exchange—him needing secrecy from you, you needing this from him.

The terms are agreed upon as you slide it up past his chin, his mouth; you sign it non-verbally as you lift it up over his nose, before it’s over his forehead and in some corner.

A pause, a chance to back out—waiting, and waiting for him to tell you to get the fuck out.

It never comes. So you snake a hand around the back of his sweat-tacked neck and pull his mouth to yours.

You find that kissing him is like fighting a fire. Unpredictable, warm. Skin is licked and burning as he forces you flush against him, groaning, almost moaning into his mouth as he deepens it. As his tongue slides past your teeth and he takes as you give, and you take as he gives.

It’s not an exchange for pleasure, but control. A means to an end, a way to sign away your rights to him for exchange for gluttony.

“Wanna ruin you—“

“Fuckin’ do it then, Ghost.”

It’s a grunt, somewhere from the back of his throat. Deep, desperate, carnal and ravenous. He looms more until the back of your thighs connect with the bed, it creaking and protesting as the two of you fall down onto it, thighs spreading on instinct, cool air brushing over your already wet, slick wanting cunt.

“Fuckin’ beautiful.”

You almost shy from it, his compliment. A thing you’d convinced he didn’t think, never mind feel. The only reason you don’t is due to the slither of light from between the curtains—off-white, dewy, likely from the moon. It slides in a line across his face, illuminating his eyes and the bridge of his nose, proving honesty, truthfulness and factualness.

No bullshit.

No more of him exposed, on show. As though the night is doing him a favour, granting him another semblance of privacy as your hand slides between your bodies, as you tease yourself, dip two fingers into your heat and whimper when his eyes follow where you’re touching. Your eyes are growing used to it, the surroundings, making out his outline and limbs moving, like his own arm moving for his hand to wrap around his cock. The slither of light slipping to his collarbone, to his broad chest—seeing the muscles ripple under his movements, the scars that tell a thousand stories.

“Thought you were—” Your slick-soaked fingers glide to swirl circles on your bundle of nerves. “—gonna ruin me, I‘ve not got all day.”

He emits a growl, low, almost inhuman and ruthless as he plants a palm down by your head, hinging back over you, hulking, dwarfed entirely by him.

As soon as his tip notches at your entrance, you feel you should gasp. Hold your breath. Still.

Instead, you nip at his jaw, push—all but insistently—until your lips part around a soundless moan. Each inch stretches you, forcing everything out of your skull except his name, the feel of him, how you want to claw at him to both bury himself to the hilt and go slower.

“Knew you could take me.”

You’re not sure if you curse in your head or out loud, air punched from your lungs. Distantly aware of the sheets under you, his arms caged on either side of you now, warm breath fanning over your neck and chin. But you just feel stretched, an ache blooming under it as you adjust, as you begin to will and want and crave for him to move.

“You thought about it, then?”

Your voice high-pitched, the question wrapped in a pant.

“Yeah, I have.”

And he moves without you even murmuring for him to do so—and each drag is bliss, luscious. Keeping your thighs spread, increasing the pace, making your skin ripple with each thrust as you arch against his sheets—as you grasp at his thick waist, as you grab for stability.

“This what you wanted?”

“Yes, fuck yes.”

He snorts, loud, punchy. Hooking your knee over his hip as he leans over you, lips close to your own as he finds a new angle, discovers a new place that has you whining and pressing your palm to his cheek.

He fucks you as though his life depends on it, his body anchoring you. Thrusting in a rhythm as his fingers, press at your lower lip. You know, without him asking. Your tongue swipes against them, sliding over the two he’s presented before he’s pulling them back, slipping his hand between your bodies and pressing them to your clit. He draws shapes, letters, and lines. Likely fucking patterns of the next mission right against your bundle of nerves until he’s making you gasp, good girl, he grunts.

Your brain just struggles with forming his name as his cock repeatedly kisses that spot inside of you.

Thank you, you almost say. But you can’t, don’t.

Muscles both taut and loose all at once, clenching around him as you near coming and he groans, murmurs something akin to fucking hell, but it’s bitten back, mostly restrained.

“Touch yourself.”

“Yes, sir.”

It’s then you open your eyes, expecting a glare, but find his chin dipped, eyes focused on where the two of you meet, watching you swallow his cock, taking him, transfixed as though not able to believe the sight. And he moans. Guttural, deplored.

It’s the final push you need, the sight of him in awe of you that makes you snap.

Pleasure rips, rippling throughout you, all white-hot, rushing. It darts and courses as though trying to find a place to dig and bury itself. Your back arched, whines thick and plentiful escaping until his hand muffles your mouth. Then you bury his name against his skin, mark it in desperate breaths as you shatter as his cock continues, thrusting, fucking into you as though its new mission is to push you to come again—hearing him, praising, more talkative than you’ve known him outside of barking orders.

And it’s overwhelming, and makes your body tingle even more than it did a few moments ago. Fingers scratching at his shoulders and neck before you slide his mouth to yours. Write gratitude against his lips, slide your thankfulness against his tongue as he croaks your name.

Not your title, not your nickname, your name.

Before he’s filling you, hips twitching, releasing his own pleasure before you’re both left panting, sweaty.

It’s a few breaths more before he collapses next to you, the slither of light sliding over his arm over his face, the thick vein in his forearm throbbing as his chest rises and falls heavily.

You don’t speak as you dress, as you fix yourself in case you see anyone between here and your room. He says nothing when you crack open his door, glancing back to find him watching—lifted up, glistening in that slither of light that cuts across the tip of his nose and chest.

Silence is easier, better.

At least till morning, when you have to see him for briefing.

[angelsfat3]

ꮩ, 你伤了我的心。 ⸻[Everything, my everything...]

Summary: "Even if there is another life, I hope I never cross paths with you. You make me sick." It was what you thought as you listened to him talk to his ex.

Genre: suggestive, fluff, against.

C/w: Heeseung being an jerk, confusion of feelings, cheating(?), story written from third person. ㅤ－ㅤTw: Curses, crying, unrequited love, virginity taken.

A/N: I don't even have words for what I wrote... I shed a tear while writing this. I hope you all like it + When “[...]” appears it is an improved version of “y/n”.

If you are interested in knowing more about this story, please read these two: ⒈ ⒉

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[...] was flipping through a history book, his fingers absentmindedly sliding across the yellowed, image-filled pages, dictating to his partner, Jake, important parts which to write down in the notebook. They were in the library, finishing a project for school. The afternoon sun filtered through the windows, bathing the room in a warm golden glow.

"[...]?" Jake broke the silence, his voice soft but firm. "I think we could use this information for the presentation, I mean, to focus the idea from the beginning and attract everyone's attention."

[...] nodded, not really looking at what Jake was pointing at. His mind was elsewhere, lost in memories and emotions that he still couldn't fully understand.

Ever since he had kissed him, everything felt different. He clearly remembered the moment, two weeks ago, when Heeseung had kissed him passionately, mistaking him for Chloe. Later when he went to his house to apologize, an apology that had been clumsy, and although Heeseung had tried to explain that before Chloe, he had had feelings for [...], words had not been enough to heal the wound he had left.

Just then, a tall, thin girl with wavy blonde hair approached them. It was Minjeong, a mutual acquaintance he had with his former best friend, Heeseung.

"Hey guuuuys," she said with a beaming smile. "I'm hosting a party this weekend. Would you like to come?"

[...] took his eyes off the book, looking up, a little surprised. He hadn't expected an invitation to a party, much less from someone related to Heeseung. He looked at Jake, who looked just as bewildered as he was, but then nodded.

"Sure, Min. We'd love to go," Jake replied, trying to keep his tone enthusiastic.

The rest of the week passed quickly, but not without incident. [...] noticed Heeseung's possessive gaze following him through the school hallways several times. Heeseung had once tried to approach him while he was at his locker, but Jake had appeared just in time, grabbing him by the shoulders and leading him to chemistry class.

"Thanks, Jake," [...] murmured, feeling a mix of relief and frustration. Jake just nodded, his face serious, clearly determined to keep [...] safe from further confusion and pain.

The day of the party arrived. [...] decided to go to his room after school to change. He was looking for a suitable t-shirt when his friend appeared at the door of his room, spreading his arms as soon as [...] opened the door, making him laugh at how he raised his eyebrows in search of his approval—about the look.

"Do you need help?" Jake asked, with a mischievous smile.

[...] nodded and let Jake rummage through his closet. Finally, the brunette took out a dark blue t-shirt, with some letters and a drawing in the middle of it.

"This one would look good on you," Jake said, extending it to him.

"Thank you very much, my moon," [...] said with a smile, noticing the blush on his friend's ears but deciding not to say anything.

Ethan began to take off the shirt he was wearing, and Jake, seeing Ethan's naked torso, couldn't help but blush brightly. He turned around quickly, pretending to search for something else in the closet to avoid looking at him.

"Okaaay, I like what I see," [...] said with a smile, still noticing the blush on his friend's cheeks after he turned around. [...] put on the shirt Jake had picked out for him and looked in the mirror. "I think we're ready."

As they left the dormitories, night began to fall, covering the campus in a blanket of stars. The two walked along the street-lit path, their shadows lengthening behind them. The night breeze was cool and pleasant, and there was a sense of anticipation in the air.

"I hope the party isn't too loud," [...] commented, adjusting the shirt. "At least... I hope she don't make her neighbors call the police again."

"Meeting Minjeong and Karina when they're drunk, it'll be like last time," Jake replied with a smile and a soft laugh. "But maybe it would do us good to relax a little."

They arrived at the bus stop just in time to see their transport approaching. They climbed in and sat together in the back, watching the city lights flash past the window.

"Are you nervous about seeing Heeseung?" Jake asked, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, almost a whisper.

[...] shrugged, looking out the window as he thought about everything that had happened. "I don't know, Jake. Part of me wants to talk to him, but another part of me is afraid of what he might say."

Jake slapped him on the thigh. "I'll be with you. You don't have to face it alone."

The bus stopped near Minjeong's house, and the boys got off, grateful for the warm summer night that enveloped them. As they walked towards the house, they could hear the rumbling of the music and laughter coming from inside.

It was almost 9 p.m. when they arrived at the door of Minjeong's house. The party was already in full swing, with people dancing in the room and groups gathered around the drinks table. The colorful lights illuminated the living room, and the atmosphere was electric.

"[...], Jake!" Minjeong greeted them enthusiastically, opening the door for them. "I'm so glad you guys came!"

Minjeong's smile was contagious, and the boys immediately felt welcome. [...] exchanged glances with Jake, who nodded slightly, as if reminding him that he was there for him.

As they walked deeper into the crowd, [...] couldn't help but look for Heeseung, his emotions constantly shifting between hope and fear. He knew that tonight could change everything, and a part of him was ready to face whatever came, while the other wanted to run away.

The music pulsed around them, and [...] tried to relax, taking a drink Jake offered him and allowing himself, at least for a moment, to enjoy the company of his friends.

To tell the truth, he moved through the party with a naturalness that surprised even himself. At first, he had felt the typical tightness in his chest when arriving at a place full of people, but the atmosphere had enveloped him, helping him relax, just as the brunette said. The loud music encouraged him to move, to greet acquaintances and to let himself be carried away by the moment.

With a drink in hand, [...] approached a group of classmates who were talking about a couple of gossips going on on campus. Their laughter and light jokes alleviated the restlessness that had accompanied him since the beginning of the night. Little by little, he felt more in his element, smiling and laughing with an ease he had forgotten he possessed.

Jake, meanwhile, watched [...] from a couch in the middle of the living room. A part of him was happy to see his friend enjoying himself, but another part, smaller but impossible to ignore, He felt a pang as he saw how others also enjoyed his company.

He settled back on the couch, pretending to be more interested in his drink than [...]'s figure. But his eyes betrayed him, searching for him in the crowd, always aware of where he was and who he was talking to. His feelings for [...] were complicated; he loved him more than a friend, but he was also afraid of ruining what they had by trying something else, given the circumstances.

Jake noticed a change in the atmosphere of the party when he saw Heeseung at the edge of his vision, slowly moving towards [...]. The crowd seemed to open up for him, as if fate itself was conspiring to bring them closer. Heeseung had that inscrutable expression that Jake had come to know well, a mix of regret and determination.

As Heeseung approached, Jake felt his heart race, a mix of worry and jealousy coursing through him. He wanted to protect [...] from any further pain, but he also knew that there were issues between [...] and Heeseung that needed to be resolved. Still, a part of him wished that [...] wouldn't fall back into the arms of Heeseung, who had already caused him so much pain.

Finally, Heeseung reached [...], gently touching his arm to get his attention. [...] turned, and when he saw him, his smile faded a little, replaced by an expression of caution.

"[...], can I talk to you?" Heeseung asked, his voice barely audible over the music making him lean closer to one of [...]'s ears.

[...] hesitated for a moment, his gaze briefly meeting Jake's, who offered him an almost imperceptible nod, a reminder that he was there if he needed him.

"Fine.." [...] finally responded, his voice calm but filled with unresolved emotions. He followed Heeseung to a quieter corner of the house, away from the hustle and bustle of the party.

Jake watched them walk away, a feeling of helplessness settling in his chest. He wanted [...] to be happy, even if it meant letting him go with Heeseung. But, for now, all he could do was wait and be ready to offer his support if things didn't go the way his best friend hoped.

In the secluded corner of the house, Heeseung and [...] faced each other, surrounded by the dim light and the murmur of distant music. The tension between them was palpable, and [...] prepared himself for the conversation he knew he needed to have.

"Heeseung, what do you want?" [...] asked, his arms crossed in a defensive posture.

Heeseung swallowed, his eyes searching [...]'s desperately. "I just want you to know how sorry I am, sweetheart. Everything that happened... was a mistake, and I haven't stopped thinking about it."

"It was a mistake that apparently took you a lot to understand," [...] replied, his voice heavy with sadness. "I don't know if I'm ready to forgive you, or even want to see you."

"I understand," Heeseung nodded, his voice breaking. "But before everything got complicated, you were important to me, more than I wanted to admit. I want to try to fix things, if you let me."

[...] looked at him, his emotions a whirlwind. He remembered all the moments he shared with Heeseung, the good and the bad, and how he had always felt a special connection with him. But he also remembered the pain of hearing Chloe's name leave Heeseung's lips that night.

The way he leaned towards him looking for a trace of her, and the betrayal that had left a scar on his heart.

"I don't know, Heeseung," he finally said, his voice soft but firm. "I can't promise you that I will believe you, that day you made it clear that you are very good at lying."

Heeseung looked at Ethan with a mix of nervousness, fear, and determination. "We can go to a quieter room to talk better, the music is too loud," he suggested, his voice barely audible.

[...] nodded, although something inside him was hesitant. However, his curiosity and the need to close that chapter prompted him to follow Heeseung up the stairs to the second floor of the house. They passed through a narrow hallway before stopping in front of a half-open door. Heeseung gently pushed it away, revealing a small but cozy room.

Inside, the party music was just a distant murmur, providing a much more intimate setting for the conversation to come. Heeseung closed the door behind them and turned to [...], his expression a reflection of the internal struggle he felt.

"Hee, why are we really here?" [...] asked, crossing his arms in a defensive gesture. "Why did you want to talk now?"

Heeseung took a deep breath, his eyes meeting [...]'s with an intensity that made him shudder. "I needed to explain to you, [...]. I needed to tell you why I kissed you that time, and why it meant so much to me... It still sounds like a lie."

[...] kept his gaze fixed on Heeseung, his heart pounding. "Then speak," he said, his voice shaky but firm.

Heeseung took a step forward, the closeness between them increasing the tension in the air. "The first time I kissed you, yes, I did it thinking about Chloe. But the instant our lips touched, I knew there was something more. The way you kissed me, [...], was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. More real, more authentic."

[...] watched him, his expression cautious as he processed each word. "And Chloe?" he asked, remembering the pain of hearing the ex-girlfriend's name.

"Chloe was important to me, but I realized that I was clinging to an idealized image of what we had, of something that will never happen again," Heeseung confessed. "When I kissed you, I realized that what I really wanted was to be with you, [...]. It took me a while to admit it, but in the end, it was you I wanted in the first place."

As Heeseung spoke, he slowly approached [...], his hands rising to rest gently on [...]'s waist. The boy's eyes shone with a mixture of surprise and suppressed excitement, but also with a lingering fear of being hurt again.

In the hallway, just outside the room, Jake stood listening to the conversation, his heart heavy with the mix of emotions that overwhelmed him. He had followed [...] and Heeseung out of an impulse that he couldn't ignore, and now, the words he heard left him on the verge of despair.

Watching Heeseung approach [...], touching him with a familiarity that Jake wanted for himself, was like a stab. Jealousy burned inside him, mixed with deep sadness.

He knew that his love for [...] was stronger than he had admitted, and seeing Heeseung about to kiss [...] again was a painful reminder of his own position, of his cowardice for wanting to wait for "the right moment" to be honest with him.

Jake couldn't take it anymore. When he saw Heeseung lean in to kiss [...], he stepped back, feeling the world around you crumble. He couldn't stand there, watching a moment he wanted more than anything unfold.

As he walked down the stairs, the music and laughter of the party seemed dull compared to the tumult in his chest. Before leaving the house, Minjeong stopped him, grabbing his wrist, noticing his disturbed expression.

"Jake, are you leaving already? It hasn't been long since you and [...] arrived..." Minjeong said, her tone worried.

Jake forced a smile, trying to hide his true feelings. "Yes... I think it's better for me to go. I think a punch made me sick and I feel like vomiting."

Minjeong looked at him with understanding, although without knowing the real reason behind his leaving, Jake wasn't the best at lying. "Well, if you need anything, don't hesitate to call me, okay? I was glad to see you here."

"Thanks, Min," Jake replied, before quickly walking out the front door.

The walk back to [...]'s bedroom was a blur for Jake. Each step seemed heavier than the last, and his mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Upon reaching the bedroom, he had unconsciously fallen into [...]'s bed, the place that offered him a small comfort in the midst of his anguish.

Tears began to fall as he buried his face in [...]'s pillow, allowing the sadness and frustration to release. It was a bitter comfort, knowing that his feelings for [...] were real but not reciprocated in the way he wanted.

Despite everything, Jake hoped that [...] would come back, that he would see what he really meant to him. With that thought, he fell asleep through tears, longing for a future where their love was not a secret, but a shared reality.

On the other hand.

In the room, the air was thick with tension and expectation. Heeseung and [...] were alone, with only the soft hum of the party in the background. The closeness between them seemed to intensify every small gesture, every look.

Heeseung approached slowly, his eyes locked on [...]'s. There was a vulnerability in his expression that the boy had not seen before, as if all the barriers Heeseung had built had vanished in that moment.

"[...]," Heeseung whispered, his voice filled with emotion and regret. "I'm really sorry for everything I put you through."

[...], still feeling the weight of Heeseung's words, found himself torn between the pain of the past and the possibility of a new beginning. His emotions were a whirlwind, but there was a part of him that wanted to let go of the pain and find something real with Heeseung.

Heeseung raised a hand, gently placing his fingers on [...]'s cheek, tracing a tender path along his skin. [...] didn't pull back, instead he closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to feel the warmth of Heeseung's touch.

"I've missed you, prince," Heeseung confessed, his words barely a whisper as he leaned forward, almost brushing his lips against each other's.

[...] opened his eyes, finding Heeseung's just inches away. Time seemed to stop as they both immersed themselves in the moment. With silent decision, [...] closed the distance between them, his lips meeting Heeseung's in a slow, gentle kiss.

The kiss was a delicate touch at first, a cautious, fearful exploration. But the built-up tension and unexpressed feelings quickly transformed it into something deeper and more urgent. Heeseung's lips moved against [...]'s with a fervent intensity, as if they were trying to convey everything that words couldn't express.

[...] responded in kind, his hands finding their way to Heeseung's hair, pulling gently, allowing himself to fall into the intimacy of the moment. It was as if every touch, every whisper between them undid the pain of the past, replacing it with something warm and new, something pure.

Heeseung wrapped his arms around [...], pulling him closer, as if afraid the moment would fade. The heat of their bodies melted into a palpable connection, and with each shared kiss, the barrier between them crumbled a little more.

[...] found himself backing away, his legs finding the edge of the bed. They sat, their lips still joined, gently exploring each other's every curve and corner. Heeseung let his hands wander, tracing a path down [...]'s back, exploring the familiarity of the body he had missed so much.

The outside world faded away, leaving only the soft intimacy between them. Heeseung, feeling the weight of the moment, paused, pulling away just enough to look [...] in the eyes.

"Are you sure of this?" Heeseung asked, his voice soft but serious. There was a sincere desire to make sure this was what they both wanted.

[...], breathing slightly hard, nodded, his eyes shining with a mix of determination and longing. "Yes, I'm sure, with you I will always be willing to do anything."

With that permission, Heeseung continued, leaning in to kiss him again, but this time with a tenderness that said more than any passionate statement. His hands moved carefully, gently guiding them to a more comfortable position on the bed.

Clothes were set aside with deliberate care, as if each piece removed was one step closer to the truth of who they were to each other. Their bodies met, skin against skin, sharing warmth and silent promises.

The atmosphere was filled with a mixture of longing and nervousness. While their lips remained united in a deep kiss, [...] felt the outside world fade away, leaving them alone in their little shared universe. A bubble.

Heeseung, with an almost reverent tenderness, began to let his lips wander past [...]'s mouth. With each kiss, he traced a slow, passionate path along his jawline and down to his neck. [...] let out a soft sigh, his eyes closing as he surrendered to the new caresses and sensations that Heeseung caused him.

Heeseung's kisses were like delicate flames, lighting up every part of [...]'s body they touched. They ran down his neck, leaving a trail of heat that made [...] shiver. When Heeseung's lips reached his collarbone, [...] let out a small moan, surprised by the intensity of the desire he felt.

Heeseung smiled against his boy's skin, enjoying the power of each touch. "I want you so bad, baby," he whispered, his voice hoarse and charged with emotion. There was a fervor in his words that left the other boy breathless.

[...] opened his eyes, meeting the burning gaze of Heeseung, who was watching him with a mix of adoration and desire. "Me too," [...] replied, his voice barely above a murmur as his heart pounded in his chest.

Carefully, Heeseung continued to explore [...]'s body, his lips leaving a trail of kisses down his chest and stomach. Each touch was a reminder of the deep connection they shared, of how much they had both longed for this moment.

[...] found himself panting, his back arching as the caresses intensified, his breathing quickening as Heeseung continued his stroke. It was a mix of desire and vulnerability, knowing that he was giving up a part of himself that he had never shared with anyone.

When their lips finally met again, it was as if the world had disappeared, leaving only the warmth and passion they shared. [...]'s moans mixed with Heeseung's, creating a soft symphony that filled the room.

As the passion between them grew, [...] allowed himself to get lost in the moment, letting go of all doubts and fears. With each touch, he felt the pain of the past fade away, replaced by a deep, authentic connection.

Heeseung, feeling the boy's complete surrender, hugged him tightly, their bodies fitting perfectly as if they had been made for each other. "You're so... fuck, tight. You're all I need," Heeseung murmured against [...]'s lips, his voice full of sincerity.

[...] looked into his eyes, seeing in them a truth that filled him with hope. "And you are everything I've ever wanted," he replied, allowing their lips to meet once more in a kiss that was both sweet and passionate.

As the night wore on, they gave themselves completely to each other, their bodies and hearts intertwined in an intimate dance that was both a discovery and a reaffirmation of what they truly meant to each other. It was a moment of purity and connection, where passion and love were in perfect harmony.

Thus... in the refuge of that room, Ethan and Heeseung found a new beginning, a place where his fears and doubts faded away, leaving only the promise of what could be.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

The next morning.

Heeseung woke up early, the morning light softly illuminating the room. There was a serenity in the air, a calm respite after the storm of emotions that had occurred the night before. Beside him, [...] was sleeping soundly, face down, with the sheet barely covering his hips. Heeseung smiled as he looked at [...]'s relaxed figure, admiring the curve of his back and the softness of his skin.

Carefully, Heeseung let his fingers roam over [...]'s bare torso, slowly tracing the contours of his skin, remembering how that same skin had felt under his hands the night before. There was a peace in the gesture, a tranquility that made him feel complete, like everything was finally in its place.

[...] began to wake up, his senses taking in Heeseung's gentle caresses. A lazy smile appeared on his lips as he kept his eyes closed, enjoying the warmth and affection emanating from his lover's fingers. He stretched slightly, his muscles relaxing, preparing to turn and meet Heeseung's face.

But just as he was about to do so, a voice interrupted the stillness of the morning. It was Heeseung's voice, speaking in a low tone to someone on the phone. [...]'s curiosity was piqued, and he decided to stay in his position, pretending to be still asleep while listening to the conversation.

"Chloe, you know how much I miss you," Heeseung said, his voice thick with emotion and nostalgia. "You don't know how much I wish things were different."

Heeseung's words fell on [...] like an icy wave. His body, which minutes before had felt warm and relaxed, began to tremble, first with surprise, then with rage. He felt his heart constrict, each word piercing his skin like swords of boiling silver stabbing into his back.

"I went to the party last night expecting to see you... but instead I got a big surprise" Heeseung continued, not realizing the damage he was causing. "I still think about you all the time, you just drive me crazy."

The feeling of betrayal washed over [...], and the pain was so intense he could barely breathe. The night before, the surrender, the vulnerability he'd shared with Heeseung, it all felt like a monumental mistake.

He regretted having slept with him, feeling exposed and cheated. Every word that came out of Heeseung's mouth hit him hard, filling him with a bitterness he had never experienced before.

Tears began to fill his eyes, blurring his vision as he struggled to maintain control and silence. He felt small and dirty, as if everything he had meant to Heeseung the night before was nothing more than a cruel illusion, again he felt like an object, a sexual one. The love he thought he had shared had turned into bitter mockery, and the pain he felt now was indescribable.

[...] could imagine Heeseung's face, smiling into the phone while he was probably looking for a way to hide him. That girl's voice, her laugh, everything about her caused you rejection. Why she? Why couldn't he stop last night? Was there such a need to get excited again?

Finally, he heard the click of the phone being hung up and felt Heeseung roll over in bed, facing away from him. That was his moment. Heartbroken and his emotions overflowing, [...] carefully stood up, trying not to make a sound as he quickly dressed. Every movement was an effort, as if his body was resisting accepting the truth.

He managed to leave the room without being noticed, his hurried steps taking him away from the source of his pain. He ran, not stopping until he reached the safety of his own bedroom.

When he walked in, the first thing he saw was Jake, who was asleep in his bed. But the sound of the door closing woke him up, Jake quickly sat up, his expression changing as he saw the anguish on [...]'s face.

"[...]," Jake said, his voice filled with concern as he stood up to go over to him.

Ethan couldn't take it anymore. He collapsed to the ground, tears flowing uncontrollably as he sobbed with a despair that shook him completely. Jake rushed to his side, kneeling to hug him tightly.

"What happened, my sun?" Jake whispered, wrapping [...] in a warm, protective hug. His lips rested on [...]'s head in a gesture of comfort, gently kissing that area.

[...] clung to Jake, hiding in the shelter of his neck as the tears continued to fall. He felt like his heart was breaking into a thousand pieces, each one a reminder of the unrequited love he had given to Heeseung. The pain was so intense that it seemed like a physical force, a tightness in his chest that left him breathless.

"I loved him more than anything in the world," [...] said between sobs, his voice shaking with pain and rage. "Why did he have to do this to me?" he shouted between cries.

Jake held him tighter, his own emotions stirring at seeing [...] so broken. "I don't know, [...]. I don't know," Jake replied, his voice soft but firm as he tried to offer him much-needed comfort.

[...] sobbed in Jake's arms, his body shaking with each ragged breath. Jake held him firmly, gently stroking his back, trying to calm him down. Time seemed to stand still while [...] vented, but Jake knew they needed to talk about what had happened.

When [...]'s sobs began to subside, Jake pulled back slightly, just enough so he could look him in the eyes. [...]'s were reddened and filled with a sadness so deep it broke his heart.

"[...]," Jake said softly, choosing his words carefully, "what exactly happened?"

[...] inhaled deeply, trying to put the words together as he felt his chest tighten again at the memory. "Last night," he began, his voice shaking a little, "Heeseung and I…we were together. I was so stupid. I thought there was something more, that he really cared about me."

[...]'s words were an echo of his most painful thoughts, and as he spoke, he felt exposed and vulnerable. It was as if every word he said opened an even deeper wound.

Jake felt a pang in his chest as he heard the confession. His heart sank as he imagined [...] and Heeseung together, beyond a relationship or a kiss, together, in bed, sharing sighs and promises. The image filling his mind with a mixture of sadness, jealousy and anger. How could someone be stupid enough to hurt him.

Although he had witnessed their connection at the party, hearing it from [...] was an unexpected blow, a reminder that her own feelings for Ethan were, for now, an unrequited love.

Despite the sadness that washed over him, Jake knew that his pain wasn't what mattered right now. It was [...] who needed comfort, who needed to feel loved and supported. So he suppressed his own feelings and focused on [...], on being the friend he had always been...

"Hey," Jake said, his voice soft and comforting as he placed a hand on [...]'s cheek, wiping away a tear that was still glistening. "You're not stupid. You went with what you felt, and that's brave, not stupid."

[...] looked at Jake, his eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and pain. "But I was wrong about him, Jake. He used me…he's still in love with Chloe."

Jake nodded, understanding the weight of betrayal [...] felt. "So? Heeseung just doesn't know how to appreciate what's in front of him," Jake said firmly. "But don't let his mistake make you feel less. You are an amazing person, [...]. You deserve someone who values you completely, you deserve to be loved."

Jake continued to caress his arm, his fingers moving in small comforting circles. "I know this hurts now, and it probably will for a while. But I'll be here, by your side, no matter what happens."

[...] nodded slowly, absorbing Jake's words, allowing himself to feel a small relief at his loyalty and unwavering affection. "Thank you, Jakey. I don't know what I would do without you," he murmured, his voice thick with gratitude.

Jake smiled, trying to instill some hope in [...]. "You don't have to worry about that, because I'm not going anywhere. I'm here, I'll always be there for you, my moon."

Ethan leaned into Jake, allowing himself to rest in his embrace, finding comfort in the certainty of his friendship... yeah. He felt that even though his heart was broken, there was a light in the darkness, a hand that held him when he needed it most.

As the sun moved across the sky, filling the room with its warm light, Jake and [...] stood there, side by side. [...]'s wounds would take time to heal, but with Jake by his side, he knew he would find the strength to keep going, one day at a time.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

메모 ! 📌ㅤ⸻ㅤ I won't lie, I was mostly inspired by the song Margaret (lana del rey) and like I said in my other account, I would make you suffer.

아이디어 !ㅤ⸻ㅤI'm very short of ideas lately, so feel free to leave me any requests! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

ㅤㅤ All credits to @angelsfat3 / @foschiamara.

[rr311]

⇝ 𝖨𝗇𝖿𝗈 kissing, spicy, black!reader

⇝ 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍 you want to play a game.

⇝ 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋’𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 It’s been a fat minute since I wrote for demon slayer so I present you with a short sanemi story! also dee announcements, today Is my birthday! and second Im gonna start writing for other fictional characters, like zuko from ATLA 🤗 anyways I hope yall enjoyyy

❝ 𝐋𝐄𝐓’𝐒 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 ! ❞ - 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

"let's play a game."

"a game?."

"a game." you heared him scoff under his breath as he looked at you weird, weren't games for children? seeing his reaction you rolled your own. "It'll be fun. I swear It." you crossed your chest with a small smile. sanemi looked at you again then sighed, "what's this..game you wanna play?." In response you got up from where you were sat ted to be seated on his lap putting your arms behind you. you tilted your head spotting his smirk, "simple and easy rules." you trailed seeing his eyes look from your eyes to your lips nodding his head, "we're gonna make out— but, If one of us gives In or touch one another that person loses. the loser has to do whatever the winner tells them to do." he raised a brow, "so If I touch you, I lose?." you nodded your head, "yup." you grinned leaning your face forward towards his feeling his breath hit your face, "so don't lose.."

In Instincts sanemi almost went to grab ahold of your hips till he remembered that he's playing your stupid game. he held his hand to his sides, clenching the bedsheets as he groaned Into the kiss fighting the urge to take you right now. you already knew he was gonna give In first. sanemi loved touching you, your face, thighs, hips, ass, he couldn't resist you. he leaned his head more to the side the capture your lips moving aggressively with your pace. you moaned Into his mouth bucking your hips up hearing a small hiss feeling him get hard under you. he wasn't gonna last long..

he needed to touch you. feel more of you. he groaned quietly, "fuck this." he mumbled Into your mouth before feeling his hands slide up your shirt to hold onto your hips moving them back and fourth against his hard. you smirked Into the kiss finally getting to bring your hands up wrap around his neck pulling him closer feeling his tounge roam your mouth. not even a second In he switched your guys position, laying on the bed with him between your legs pulling back from the kiss to kiss down your neck, giggling at how desperate he Is, "so desperate."

"shut up."

[another-lost-mc]

Angels' Commendation MICHAEL x gn!Reader x SIMEON 3.2k Words | NSFW | Smut | Michael-centric | Poly Relationship Content Warnings: Reader uses gn!pronouns. Alternating present/memory POV. Pet name used (little lamb). Penetrative sex, threesome, creampies, implied overstimulation, scenting/marking, fluff, flirting, teasing, food kink if you squint, sex in a semi-public place, jealousy, light dom/sub undertones. Prev: Angels at the Door | Next: A Demon's Curiosity

Your departure from the Celestial Realm is met with little fanfare. Michael offered to host a formal celebration like a banquet or dance, but you balked at the very idea and insisted nothing of the sort was necessary. You finished most of your preparations yesterday and already said goodbye to the angels you spent the most time with. They gave you their well wishes for your journey home and their hopes that you would return again soon.

When you came to the Celestial Realm nearly a month ago, you brought a single bag with some clothing and toiletries. Today, you’re leaving with much more than you brought. There are small tokens from your new angel friends in some spare bags that Simeon procured for you. Michael also gave you a large basket full of gifts for Diavolo and his fallen brothers in the Devildom.

Luke baked a cake for you to take back to share with everyone, and it’s carefully wrapped in a large box. He giggled and whispered that he also made a special cupcake just for you, in case Beel eats the other cake before you can have some.

Simeon helps you organize your belongings near the Celestial Gates that will take you back to the Devildom. If Luke weren't nearby, he'd drag you into one last kiss before you go; he could lick his lips and savour the taste of you when you're gone.

He glances over where Michael and Luke are waiting. You haven't even left yet, and Luke is already asking him when you'll be able to return. Simeon and Michael share a knowing look; your presence will be formally requested before too long, whether your demon friends like it or not.

Simeon slides the straps of your bags onto your shoulders, and he steps away once you reassure him that everything feels secure. Luke smiles when you hold up his cake box, and you wiggle your fingers at him since you can’t wave goodbye properly. You share one last fleeting glance with Luke–and your lovers–before you finally walk through the portal and back to the Devildom.

Once you’re gone, the three angels turn and walk back towards the Celestial Halls together. "Did you give them a present, Michael?" Luke asks curiously.

He already asked Simeon earlier what his gift for you was. Simeon replied that he gave you a short story he wrote himself. (It was a smutty romance about three characters that resembled you and your two angels, of course). 

Michael looks down and his lips quirk into a smile. He ruffles Luke's hair playfully and chuckles when the young angel pouts. "Ah, we exchanged parting gifts earlier before we joined you for breakfast."

You groaned at the sudden emptiness when Michael withdrew his cock from your body. He chuckled against your shoulder as two of his thick fingers took its place. The sounds his fingers made as he thrust them inside you was obscene. His and Simeon's cum both leaked out around the intruding digits and smeared the inside of your thighs.

"Don't worry little lamb, we'll keep you nice and full. You want something to remember us by, don't you?" 

You nodded dazedly as endless sensations rippled through you. Your body twitched and trembled from their attention. Simeon was plastered against your front, his hands gripping your hips while he chased beads of sweat down your chest with his tongue. He dragged his teeth over your skin and sucked each of your nipples between his lips. He glanced at you through his dark lashes when you whined and arched into his touch.

Michael's chest was a comforting weight against your back, and you leaned against him to keep yourself upright. One of his hands moved inside you, and the other trailed along the side of your face and down your neck. He pressed down gently when he grazed over the marks he and Simeon made. He tilted your chin towards him and kissed you over your shoulder. It was wet and sloppy, and you moaned when his tongue flicked teasingly into your mouth. 

Your skin was sticky with sweat and cum. Your legs trembled and you felt overheated, but you still wanted more. You reached back and fisted one hand in Michael's hair while the other reached down and grasped Simeon's hard, leaking cock that bobbed heavily between you. Michael hissed when you pulled on his hair; Simeon groaned when you pumped him lazily, and his hips bucked against you.

"What do you want, my love?" Simeon whispered when he leaned forward and tugged at your earlobe with his teeth.

It was hard to form words when they worked so diligently together to fuck your brains out. Your mind was a fog of pleasure and longing. You know you were leaving soon, but you didn't go. You wanted–

"M-more," you whimpered. "Want more of you, please?"

Michael crooked his greedy fingers inside you, and you rocked your hips so that they'd keep massaging against that spot that made your toes curl. You shuddered between them, and Michael brushed his lips against your temple.

"You ask so nicely," he murmured. He rubbed his cock against your ass; he was already hard and leaking again. He knew you were all running out of time, but he couldn’t refuse you. "We'll give you what you whatever you want."

Simeon's cock slipped from your grip when he maneuvered himself in front of you. He laid back against the pillows. One of his legs was between yours, and the other was bent at the knee and pressed against your outer thigh to support you. Michael nudged your shoulders down and bent you over until your chest was pressed against Simeon's. He groped your ass and positioned himself behind you.

Simeon cradled the back of your neck and brought you towards him for a heated kiss. Michael leaned over you and kissed along your spine just as he sank his cock back inside you. All three of you groaned in unison, overwhelmed by the sensual depravity of being together like this. Simeon was jerking himself off beneath you and panting your name desperately as he watched your expressions above him. You closed your eyes and lost yourself in the heated daze of their lust as Michael fucked you one last time.

When you arrive at the Demon Lord’s castle, all of your demon friends are waiting anxiously to see you. Barbatos instructs the Little Ds to help you with your belongings and you hand him Luke’s cake for safekeeping. As soon as your hands are free, you're crowded by the seven demon brothers that clamor for your attention like they haven't seen you in years.

There's a small luncheon prepared to celebrate your return, and the demons lead you to the elegant dining room where you can finally relax. Asmo plunks down in the seat next to yours and admires the Celestial Realm tunic you're wearing.

"That style looks nice on you," he offers, and there's something soft in his gaze as he remembers how much he liked wearing angelic-style garments too.

"Michael provided me with a lot of Celestial clothes to try while I was there," you explain with a smile, looking down as you smooth the front of your shirt. "I left most of them behind for the next time I visit, but I wanted to bring this one back with me–it's my favourite."

You noticed that Michael was acting strangely since you stepped into the dining room for breakfast. Raphael and Gabriel bickered on either side of you while Simeon rolled his eyes at them across the table. You tried to focus on your plate, but you could feel the heavy weight of Michael's gaze lingering on you.

"Is there something wrong?" you asked him after breakfast when you were able to speak to him alone. 

His gaze flickered between your eyes and your chest. "That outfit you're wearing–" he started to say, but he faltered and cleared his throat, "–that was what you were wearing in the garden that day with Simeon."

Michael told you how he found you together in his garden by accident, and you still feel a little embarrassed thinking about it. Your cheeks grew warm, and you looked down at your top nervously. "Oh...do you not like it, or–?"

Michael shook his head quickly. "No, it's not that. It's...well, it reminds me of the day I realized I had feelings for you." He looked away and it was suddenly his turn to be bashful. "And it reminds me of how much desire I have for you."

He glanced around before he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him. "Perhaps you'd like to accompany me to the garden? I have a bit of spare time before I’m needed for my next meeting," he murmured against the shell of your ear. You felt his cock hardening against your hip and you gasped softly.

"Wait, what about Simeon?" you asked, but you realized you didn’t need to worry. Michael was already sending him a message, and he slipped his phone back into his robes when he finished.

"He's going to meet us there." Michael held out his arm to you, and you followed him towards the closest exit leading to the gardens outside.

Lunch at the Demon Lord’s castle is a boisterous affair. Everyone chatters excitedly about your return, and Lucifer mentions off-handedly that it's nice to have tolerable company again.

Diavolo asks for your impressions of Michael after living together these past few weeks, and you nearly choke on your drink. You clear your throat and tell him that Michael was very kind and generous to you. Diavolo nods approvingly, and he mentions the basket of gifts Michael sent back with you. You didn't look at it that closely, but according to Lucifer, they're all exquisite delicacies from the Celestial Realm.

You're not surprised when Diavolo mentions that Michael also enclosed a letter for him as well. Apparently the Archangel thanked the Devildom for allowing them the honour of your company. He finished the letter stating that the angels of the Celestial Realm eagerly await your next visit.

"I don't think we could've asked for a better result," Diavolo exclaims, and Lucifer begrudgingly agrees. 

Conversation lingers on your trip and what it was like living among the angels. It's hard to keep a straight face when Michael or Simeon's names are mentioned throughout the meal. There's still a dull throb between your legs from this morning, and the biting marks they left on your skin are tender underneath your clothes.

When the lunch dishes are cleared away, Barbatos starts slicing Luke's cake for everyone. (He murmurs quietly that he's impressed with the young angel's creation, and you remind yourself to pass along the message to him later.)

Diavolo claps his hands when Barbatos places a generous slice in front of him. "Luke made this? How delightful!" He grins at you from his seat at the head of the table. "Is Michael's sweet tooth as notorious as Lucifer claims?" 

Lucifer glares at Diavolo but the prince ignores him. You bite your lip and nod as Barbatos comes to your side and puts a slice of cake in front of you. "It is. This particular cake happens to be Michael's favourite."

"Knock-knock," you said teasingly when you pushed open the door to Michael's office. The Archangel was leaning back in his chair, running a hand through his hair while he frowned at the document in his hand. He glanced at you when you stepped inside and closed the door behind you.

"I still have more work to take care of tonight, little lamb," he offered apologetically, but you grinned when his eyes lingered on the plate in your hand.

"Can I tempt you to take a short break? You've been here since dinnertime." You brought a slice of cake from the kitchen with you. It's unusual for Michael to rush away from the table before dessert, but he claimed an urgent matter from another part of the realm needed his attention. 

It's possible you missed him and wanted an excuse to see him, but you left that feeling unsaid between you.

He looked torn, and you went in for the final blow. "And I thought Lucifer had the worst work-life balance of anyone I ever met."

That certainly got his attention; he put his papers aside and waved you over. "Realms forbid I let him be better than me at something, especially when it means passing up a chance to visit with you." 

You offered Michael the plate, but he took it from you and set it on his desk. You made an undignified yelping noise when he suddenly grabbed you by the waist and pulled you onto his lap.

When you regained your balance, you were straddling his thighs. He leaned back in his seat and licked his lips. "Since my little lamb interrupted my very important work, I think it's only fair that they feed me. What do you think?"

You couldn't help the bashful smile that bloomed across your face, and his eyes darkened when you picked up the plate and offered him a forkful of the fluffy vanilla cake he loves so much.

"Did you have some cake already?" he asked you in a rough voice after you fed him a couple small bites.

You nod–you ate dessert with Simeon and the others in the dining room. But there's a smear of whipped cream clinging to the corner of Michael's mouth, and you feel inspired. "I wouldn't mind a little more," you murmured as you inched forward and swiped your tongue across his lips. You leaned back and smacked your lips with a satisfied hum.

You had just enough time to put the plate back on the desk before Michael surged forward and kissed you. He licked into your mouth and groaned deep in his chest as he chased the sugar-sweet taste on your tongue. 

Beel sits across the table from you, and even after he's had two slices of cake, he's still drooling and looking for more. Satan grasps his shoulder when he tries to stand up and reach for the remaining half-a-cake. Barbatos winks at you when he slides the cake further away from him, and Beel gives up and slumps back in his seat. 

Satan grumbles complaints about his brother when you finally catch his gaze. "I was able to borrow the book about Celestial Blessings you wanted to read," you mention to him between bites of your dessert. "It's packed in one of my bags. I'll give it to you when we go back to the House of Lamentation."

He looks genuinely shocked and leans forward on his elbows with excitement. "Really?" He glances down the table where Lucifer and Diavolo are having a heated discussion about something before he looks at you again. "I thought it was in the restricted section of their library?" he asks quietly.

You shrug and look down at your plate as you slice off another forkful of cake. Your cheeks feel a little warm. "Michael gave me permission to borrow it, as long as I bring it back the next time I visit."

The restricted section of the Celestial Library is dimly lit and eerily quiet—or it would be, except for the soft, slapping sounds of skin-on-skin as Michael fucked you against one of the shelves. Your pants were pooled around your ankles, and his wings brushed against you every time he snapped his hips forward. You gripped the shelf in front of you for leverage and rolled your hips back in time with his thrusts.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you panted between shaky moans. “Simeon said your permission wasn’t necessary for—oh, fuck,” you whimpered when his cock dragged along your walls just right.

He huffed and slowed his movements, grinding lazily against you and denying you the delicious friction he knew you craved. “And you thought asking that flirt of a records-keeper was a better idea, hm?” He leaned forward and scraped his teeth along your jaw and licked at your neck.

When you tilted your head to give him more access, he hummed and sucked a mark into the delicate skin below your ear. The hand that wasn’t fisted in the collar of your shirt snaked down your front and stroked at the arousal between your legs. You sighed and undulated your hips to coax his fingers where you wanted them most.

“If I—if I knew you’d react like this, I would’ve visited Metatron sooner,” you teased, your tongue loosened by pleasure from his sinful ministrations.

Michael’s chest rumbled behind you, and he suddenly leaned back and pulled you flush against him. “You play with fire, my little lamb,” he snarled into your ear. “Open your mouth.”

You whimpered and obeyed him—how could you not when the gravely tone of his voice made arousal simmer deep inside you? When your mouth fell open, he slipped two fingers inside and pressed down on your tongue. You closed your lips and sucked—you moaned when your tasted your own arousal.

“Very good,” he whispered in your ear, "you're so perfect for me." He kissed your temple and starting fucking into you, faster and harder than before. His fingers smothered your cries and you closed your eyes as pleasure rolled through you. You tilted your head back against his shoulder as he moved your body to meet his thrusts.

His rhythm became erratic as he pushed you both towards release, and he groaned when he felt your body clench around his cock. “That’s it, give yourself to me. I’ve got you, little lamb. I’ve got you.”

After a festive but exhausting lunch at Diavolo's castle, you walk back to the House of Lamentation with Lucifer and his brothers. They help carry your bags and even though some of them complain, you know they're all happy to see you again. You’re nestled between the group of them and you realize you genuinely missed them too.

You’re grateful that your room is how you left it, albeit with slightly more dust than before. The brothers scatter once you've given them souvenirs from your trip and you finally have some time to yourself. You’re about to start unpacking when there's a quiet knock on your door; when you turn around, you smile at Asmo who’s leaning against the door frame.

"Oh, hi!” You greet him with a beaming smile. “I brought something for you from the apothecary, but I can't remember which bag it's in. Come in for a sec while I look, okay?" Your bags are piled on your bed, and you unzip them one at a time to find the little basket of body care you brought back for him.

"No rush," he says airily as he closes your door and plops down in the chair at your desk. "There was something I forgot to ask you earlier, anyway."

You rummage through your bags. "Oh? What's that?" You glance at him over your shoulder. He waits until you look at him, and he sniffs the air deliberately. Your anxiety spikes, and you instinctively clench your thighs together. You nearly forgot about the damp spot in your underwear, the traces of your lovers' last gift to you. 

Asmo's lips curl into a teasing smirk. "So, how long have you been fucking Michael?"

[pandorasword]

Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.

CHAERI'S MASTERLIST

YOU CAME

❒ words: 619

❒ summary: The night before Jungkook's enlistment

❒ pairing: Jungkook x 8thmember!OC

❒ notes: find notes at the bottom

December 11, 2023

A Fool

A fool to think she could be indifferent, a fool to think she could bear the separation, to say goodbye to him only in front of the cameras, to wish him to stay healthy and to take care of himself in front of everyone, Chaeri felt like an idiot. A fool to believe she could have stayed home the night before his departure.

Chaeri's AirPods were out of battery, and the volume on her cell phone was set to maximum, yet she didn't mind. She didn’t care that Jungkook's faint voice was echoing in the dim alley she was hurrying through, just having stepped out of the dark car that had hastily brought her to that point.

The pajama sweatpants she wore, not having had time to change into jeans, were lightweight. However, she remained unaffected by the biting winter wind, the weather gearing up for the first snow of that Christmas season. It would be the first snow she'd experience without her group, or rather, without her family, in 10 years.

The hoodie she had on was oversized, so much so that she had to repeatedly pull up the sleeves that kept sliding down her arms, extending to cover her hands, which made it challenging for her to hold the phone.

She knew the rest of the way by heart, so she allowed herself to stare at Jungkook's tired, sad face through the cell phone screen. 

He was giggling over a comment about the dryer being active just hours before he started his military career, but the laughter didn't genuinely reflect in his eyes

The boy she had grown up with, the one who slept in the bed next to hers when all eight of them shared a single room, her best friend, her first kiss, her first love—the boy who had strained his voice singing to her until her nightmares faded away.

Her family.

He was going to leave in a few hours, and she would see him again, God knew when.

She was stupid to think that she could stay at her place without feeling the need to look him in the eye to bid him farewell, without the pressure of pretending and calculating words, smiles, looks. 

"I'll miss you," Jungkook said, his voice soft, warm, almost hoarse. Chaeri knew him better than anyone else, knew for a fact that he would cry as soon as the live broadcast ended. And she had to be there. She owed it to him.

Despite all.

The janitor of the building where he lived recognized her right away; there was no need to show him documents or go through the necessary checks to ensure safety for the residents. She was grateful, as she was in such a hurry that she probably would not have stopped if he had tried.

She quickly made the decision to run up the stairs, two by two, as the elevator would be too slow, and she needed to reach there immediately. She felt the physical urgency.

The phone display went black; Jungkook had concluded the live, and she was right outside his door.

Gasping, her cheeks red from running.

The UGG TAZZs on her feet had only made it more challenging, threatening to trip her up more than once, but she was there. Finally.

Her long black hair stuck out messily from the ponytail she had tied back at home; she was stripped of her makeup, utterly unkempt, and hardly presentable. Yet, when the door slowly opened, and Jungkook's face appeared, his eyes wet with the tears she had anticipated, she felt perfectly in order. 

Perfectly as she was supposed to be. 

Perfectly where she was supposed to be.

“You came”

taglist: @alixnsuperstxr | @bts-dream | @enchantingbrowneyedgirl | @ycuvi | @cosmicwintr

❒ notes: Hiii. I wrote this out of the blue, it's 4:15 in the morning here, but I couldn't go to sleep without posting it How are you?

I think I'll feel Jungkook's enlistment even more. His live sessions gave me comfort and helped me sleep during difficult times.

As for the story, just to clarify, this is not the end hehe

[its-time-to-write]

Hi!! I absolutely love yo he fics talk about carrying the Jamie tartt fic community 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

could you please write something about like the Richmond team being out at a bar and someone kissing Jamie and reader seeing and the chaos that ensues, hopefully with a happy ending but I trust whatever you want to do 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Haha hey, thanks! I write because I have a lot of things in my head, so thanks for enjoying it and for requesting!

Also I literally hate looking for gifs because I can never find the ones I want

wrote all your lines in the script in my mind

“Why did I let you drag me here?” you ask your absolute best friend the whole world, “I hate bars so much!”

Colin grins. “It’s good for you to get out of your flat and into the real world for a change. You’re getting all pasty.”

“I am not!”

You can’t help but catch onto his infectious mood. He’s still happy after scoring a winning goal, so he and Michael convinced you to go out with them even though it was almost a whole week ago. 

You and Colin had grown up together, kicking the football around his backyard until age ten, when you declared you were never playing with him again because he was “unbeatable.” 

You hate losing. 

You two had been inseparable, even at university. Colin was more outgoing, what with football and all. You were too, in your own way, but you hated bars. And going to the club. You said it was too many drunk, sweaty people but both Michael and Colin promised that it would be fun this time. 

“If I have to go, you have to go,” Michael had said to you. 

You had groaned, but acquiesced. You’re not too sure of your decision anymore, especially because of how many footballers are present.

The last time you were out with them, one of Colin’s teammates had taken it upon himself to flirt with you the entire night. And he flirted very well. Like, so well that you went home that night incredibly flustered. So well that it now occupied a permanent place in your brain. You played the moment he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear on repeat in your mind, like a tab on your laptop that you couldn’t bring yourself to close. 

And you told fucking Michael, who told fucking Colin, who then teased you about it mercilessly until you swore you’d tell the press about the Incident when you two were ten.

Colin shut up after that. 

Actually, that’s not entirely true. You’d go out to coffee and he’d say, “Saw your footballer today,” and you’d say, “He’s not MY footballer,” and Michael would ask, “Then why are you blushing?” so you’d respond, “I’m not blushing, it’s just hot in here, alright?”

Anyway, you’re at this fucking bar filled with fucking footballers and you catch yourself looking around the room for one in particular, and Michael catches you too. He doesn’t say anything, just winks at you and pulls Colin over to an open booth. 

You tell Colin all the time that you like Michael better than him. It’s because Michael knows the meaning of the word discretion. 

“I can be discreet,” Colin says. 

“And I can play football,” you reply.

Michael says you two bicker like a pair of siblings. He’s not wrong.

Right now, though, you’re not bickering. A few of Colin’s friends are filling in the booth. Sam slides in first, then Isaac, and then finally Jamie. 

Michael is sitting opposite Sam, then Colin, then you. 

You’re all squished in, ordering drinks and food, swapping stories and laughing like you’ve known each other for ages. 

You suppose you sort of have. 

You’ve known Colin the longest, obviously, but the next one is Isaac. You met him shortly after university because he was always around Colin. You met Sam once he signed for Richmond, and Jamie when he domineered the little triad of him, Isaac, and Colin. 

You really didn’t like Jamie. 

You told Colin all the time that he was a prick and a bully, but Colin wouldn’t listen. 

It actually was the cause for one of your biggest fights. You two didn’t speak for three months. 

Then Roy head-butted Colin and Jamie was gone, and you’re sure there are other details in between but whatever the case, Colin was at your doorstep with takeout and an apology. You watched Look Both Ways and argued about which was was the best. And that was that. 

When Jamie showed back up, you were less than thrilled. 

“If you fucking act like that prick again, I’ll fucking sabotage this date,” you had said. You were setting up Colin with a friend of yours named Michael. You didn’t know him incredibly well, but you had a lot of mutual friends who absolutely adored him. You were pretty sure he and Colin would click but you didn’t want Colin to act like a douche again. 

He didn’t. It worked out for him. 

Jamie knew who you were to a certain extent, which you suppose is why he was flirting with you that night at the club. Your distaste for him was evident, but you felt so uncomfortable in that environment. You were sitting alone, trying to make yourself invisible, when a tipsy Jamie found you and began to make it his mission to get you to a) smile and b) not hate him. He succeeded at both, as well as secret mission c) make you blush and fall madly in love with him. (Not that he knew that option existed.)

But he did that with all the girls, so you tried not to let it go to your head. 

It did anyway, which is why you’re sitting in this booth in this bar trying not to look at his perfect face for to long and pretending you don’t notice that his foot is resting next to yours under the table. 

“I’m gonna go get another drink,” he says, pushing himself up. You can’t help but notice the glint of his thin gold chain and the way his shirt hugs his bicep. Colin pokes you under the table. 

You look back to the group and try to immerse yourself in the conversation, but you are far too distracted. Your eyes keep flicking to Jamie. 

Jamie, as he orders a drink. Jamie, as he laughs to the bartender, Jamie as he… kisses a fit blonde girl in a tight skirt?

You look back to your table, eyes fixated on the chips in front of you. Oh. You suppose that settles things then. 

You close the tab in your mind and try to muster up some of the old dislike you had for Jamie. It’s not really working, because all you can think about is how he drunkenly waxed poetic about your eyes and told you he had liked them even when they were angry. 

This is the first time you’ve seen him since that night, so it’s not like it’s that big of a deal. What were you expecting, for him to soberly declare his love? Maybe Colin had over-hyped the way he said Jamie had asked about you the next day. Maybe he was exaggerating when he said he caught Jamie looking at the picture of you and Colin from uni that Colin had taped to his locker. 

Maybe you were looking for something real in someone who was just looking for the next good time. 

It doesn’t matter though, because it was just a crush. That’s what you tell yourself as you get up and tell the table you’re going to get some fresh air. “Too many sweaty boys,” you say with a nose wrinkle, and a squeeze to Colin’s hand that means I’m feeling anxious and need cold air. 

You’re breezing out the door by the time Jamie returns, hair slightly tousled and frazzled expression. Michael and Colin exchange a look.

—

Meanwhile, you’re outside freezing just a little bit. The cold air is a welcome shock to your system, so you don’t mind the way you’re shivering. You take a deep breath, envisioning your lungs expanding to the point of popping. Your breath comes out in a whoosh, and you feel the anxiety beginning to dissipate. You stand, back against the bar wall, puffing cold air into the sky for a long time, tears welling in your eyes but refusing to fall. 

You’re outside so long, that when the door opens and you hear footsteps coming toward you, you’re sure it’s Colin or Michael coming to make sure you haven’t been murdered. 

“You plannin’ on freezing to death?” asks a voice that is neither Colin nor Michael. The owner of said voice leans against the wall next to you, mirroring your position. He’s so close you can feel heat radiating off his body, but you’re not quite touching. 

You shake your head. “No, I’m not,” you hear yourself saying, “I just got a little anxious and the cold air is good for me, so… here I am.”

Jamie makes a concerned hm and nothing else. He just stands there next to you, not touching but still too close. 

“Why are you out here?” you ask, breaking the silence. “Thought you’d be inside. Looks like you met someone interesting. She might be missing you.” 

There’s no malice in your tone. You’re just stating facts as an observer. As a friend, maybe. The only thing that colors your words is just a hint of sadness. You’re sure Jamie won’t register it. 

He grimaces and shakes his head. “Ain’t my friend. Some fan who thinks it’s fucking cool to kiss a footballer. Weren’t paying attention, otherwise I could’ve blocked it. I fucking hate it when that happens. It’s like, they don’t even see me as a real person. Just a sexy lad they can do whatever with.”

You chuckle at the way he says “sexy lad.” It reminds you of the way he had told you he had been a “wee sexy baby.”

“That fucking sucks,” you say. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize, otherwise I wouldn’t have said it like that.” You’re taking deep, calming breaths, still trying to get rid of that anxious feeling. 

Jamie just shrugs. He makes no indication that he’s going to continue speaking so you ask, “So, is that why are you out here, then? Is it to get away from her? Because if anyone should have to leave, it’s her. Pretty sure we could talk to someone and get her kicked out.”

You shiver, cold air beginning to seep through your coat. Jamie closes the gap between you, his bicep pressing against yours. You stifle another shiver, this one not from cold. 

“Nah,” he replies, “that’s not why I’m here. Wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Oh. That’s weird. “Why didn’t Colin or Michael come?”

Jamie shrugs again. “Colin said some shit about fuckin whatever and Michael said the same fuckin shit, so…” he trails off. 

You look up at him. “Jamie. You’re not making any fucking sense. I don’t know if it’s the cortisol flowing through my body or if you’ve had too much to drink, but you have got to be a whole lot clearer.”

That seems to get his attention, and bring him back to the reality that you two are outside, in the fucking cold, and he’s chatting with you as if nothing is wrong. 

Jamie puffs out a breath, watching it coil into the air. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, then settles on: “I ain’t drunk.”

You’re still looking at him. He’s right. He’s stone-cold sober. 

“I wanted to make sure you were alright. Colin said that you’d probably rather see me than him so… I dunno, I fucking came out here. I’ve been thinking about you ever since the last time we talked.”

Your cheeks flush bright red, and you’re grateful for the night sky. You keep taking your deep breaths. 

Jamie continues, “You flirted with me for fucking five seconds, and it’s like- I forgot you hated me. Didn’t care about anything anymore, you just smiled at me fucking one time and I felt like I was floating.” He stares at the sky. “I fucking hate talking about feelings and shit, and you’re basically Colin’s sister, so I figured I didn’t have a chance. But I’ve been fucking head-over-heels since the first time you glared at me.”

You’re pretty sure this is an anxiety hallucination. That’s a thing, right?

Jamie is no longer staring at the sky, but looking at you. He breathes out a laugh. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make it weird.” He moves to go back inside but you grab his arm. 

“Jamie,” you say. The look on his face when you say his name is so hopeful, that you feel your heart shatter and reform almost instantaneously. “Jamie, you- you like me? You came out here because you like me? And that’s why you were drunkenly flirting with me last month?”

“Yeah, yeah it is.” 

Your hand is still on his arm, and you’re standing face to face. You’re still breathing heavily, but so is he. You slowly run your hand up his arm and cup his face. He’s staring at you, mere inches apart, as you stand on tiptoe to reach his lips.

He kisses you back with the hunger of a starving man, arms wrapped around your waist the moment your lips make contact. You’re pulling each other closer, forgetting the freezing cold, when you hear an, “Oi, boyo.”

It’s Colin and Michael, walking out from the bar, headed home. 

You and Jamie break apart and Colin points to him. “Break her heart, Michael and I will break your fucking legs.”

Jamie grins and nods, and you just roll your eyes. You’re going to have to tell them everything, but right now they’re walking away and it’s fucking cold, so Jamie’s pulling you back to him again to pick up where you left off. 

[melanated-writersblock]

College Basketball Star!Chenle x Black!Fem!Cheerleader!Reader Drabble (18+ MDNI)

a/n & warning: a lil sumthin’ for my Chenle girlies💅🏾 (ignore the typos I wrote this in a flash of hysteria) just filth. And this is my first drabble, actually, so if I didn’t cut it off abruptly this would’ve been long as shit. So let me know if you would actually like me to expand on this in some way shape or form(: [Pls comment & reblog if you enjoyed it!] (P.S. I added more context at the beginning, I felt like the story needed it)

Chenle couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that he just led his team to victory in their final game of a perfect season, now on their way to the NCAA Championships. Sinking a final 3-point shot in front of his team, coaches, a crowded arena, and you, doing your routines with your cheer squad to get the crowd more rowdy than they already were. Your braids swaying in the air as you completed various moves and dances.

Sure, it was to get the audience hype, but you were really putting on a show for Chenle…and he knew it, coming over to you and your cheer squad’s side of the ring multiple times during the game, even dancing along during certain parts of songs.

The interactions between you both were fun, and the game felt just like any other to him, so the gravity of the milestone hadn’t really set in just yet…

He couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of anything, actually. Not while you were kneeling between his legs, taking as much of his length into your mouth as you could manage. Using your hands to stroke what couldn’t fit, you moan around Chenle’s dick as you continue to move at a steady pace.

“Fuckkk~ You’re so fucking good at this” Chenle leans his head back against a tiled wall in pure ecstasy as he sits on an in-shower bench, caressing the back of your head as he helps guide you. The hot water from the empty locker room shower running, a result of you wanting to take a “celebratory” shower together after the crowd left the arena for the evening. Of course one thing led to another…

You continue to suck Chenle off, pulling his dick out of your mouth with a ‘pop’ every so often to lick along the length of him. “You’re being~ So good for me right now, so fucking good~” You smile up at him as you spit, letting a long string of saliva trickle down from your lips onto the head of his cock. “Consider this a present for making it to Nationals”, you spit one last time before massaging the saliva onto his length like lube, making sure to collect any precum as you worked your hand along him, your other hand rubbing on his spasming thigh…he was definitely close.

“Get up, I need to fuck you” Chenle’s voice was needy, but still demanding. It never failed to turn you on, far worse than you already were. He helps you to your feet before turning you around to face the wet tiles. Your hands brace the walls as Chenle leans you forward and lifts one of your knees onto the bench, spreading your legs wider, as his 5’10 frame subtly looms over your shoulder. Your breath hitches, your body eager for his next move, his next touch, your eyes fluttering closed as you clench around nothing. But you must’ve not been as calm as you thought, hearing Chenle laugh behind you. “And here I thought, I, was the one that NEEDED to fuck you,” he snakes his arm around your torso, taking one of your breasts in his hand while circling your sensitive nipple, and you can’t help but whimper at the sensation. “it turns out,” Chenle slides the tip of his dick up your inner thigh, collecting your dripping wetness that managed to trail down before leaning in to nick softly at your earlobe, “~You’re the one that needed to be FUCKED” You moan in pleasurable agony as Chenle teases your entrance with the head of his cock, pushing in ever so slightly before removing it, and repeating.

You drop your head in defeat, hot tears threatening to make an appearance, “Aww, baby~ my little cheerleader needs my cock that bad, huh?” You shake your head in agreement, unashamed and riddled with desperation, “You need me to fill you up and fuck you in the locker room shower? Huh?” You cry out as Chenle slides into you with ease, already shaking as you feel the veins of his cock graze the inside of your walls deliciously, “Where anyone could walk in and see you getting pounded like the fucking slut you are? Huh?” “Ohh my Goddd, yes, Yes! Pleaseee~” You just couldn’t help yourself. Hot tears began to run down your face as Chenle continued to plow into you, lewd sounds filling the shower area as he actively fucked you senseless.

[celesterayel]

the tragic heroes | percy jackson

pairing: percy Jackson ✩ ‧₊˚

IN WHICH — the tragic heroes and the tragedy that appeases the chaos.

The monster cackles in delight, its bulging eyes crinkling with glee and invoking disgust in all that have (and will) witness its countenance. Darkness hides all other pallors of rotting skin and luminously straining veins, slivers of shades of bruised blues and bloody reds clashing against the dark abyss of the room, that the monster has no use for as an entity of chaos.

Bells foil loudly in the distance, perturbing the distant silence of the castle with grating screeches only reaching the heights of noise as the pits of tartarus. It is a cacophony of choked laughter and perversive glee for the delicate steps that built the foundation for what is to come. And soon it shall!

The Fates have come knocking on the door of destiny and offered up to the beast the next great tragedy that shall put all the others to shame. A deal for judgement and devastation. The Fates have weaved through sorrows befitting the leagues of Icarus's falling and Achille's lost love, enthralling the vices of Aphrodite's cruel methods that end with aching lips and entranced poets--forever written into history. They have searched the sands of time and bid the eons of creation for this.

The monster lounges forward as if the visions in the water will disappear and greedily drinks forth the taste of cataclysmic devotion and the etchings of pain in the cosmos as the moonlight of the water provides the burning echoes from lips that shall taste the sweetest sin and ache for it in every other lifetime. What a lovely destruction this will be.

The monster pitches out, “It has begun, young little hero. Such pretty sorrows..."

The Fates have certainly outdone themselves. This story will be one for the ages to come and even after!

The walls haunch over and enclose the story in its grasp, keeping it their secret even if only just a bit longer. It reeks of desperation and devastation--the greatest ones always do.

Voices of the damned and lost screech out in laughter, the entity mocks in pity or sadness all the same: "Wretched Greek story doomed to repeat like it has every lifetime; the pour of ichor waning between reality and prophecies about to drip, drip, drip down the pages. Except in this one, it seems perhaps the gods made a mistake choosing you for him. He has no qualms choosing you over all else. I must say, I shall have fun watching the Earth burn and Olympus fall down--the chaos it shall bring...delightful! Blessing or curse we have yet to see! It seems I have a new tale to tell when the cursed half-bloods come crooning at my gates to weep. My, what marvelous tunes!”

The beast could taste the tears and heartache that slide right off this tale, so presently tasteful.

My, my what marvelous fortunes to come indeed.

The Savior of Olympus., Son of the Seas, Percy Jackson. The Survivor.

The Great One, Daughter of the Heavens, Callopeia Iris. The Tragedy.

"Finally a story for the gods below who ache for destruction and tragedy like it was made for them. They shall have a riot."

The Tragic Heroes.

✩ ‧₊˚ author note i was doing physics and calc hw and this came into my mind and now thinking of creating a full on fanfic on ao3 and wattpad based on the dialogue i wrote. i apologize for being so inactive and for the requests in my inbox. swear I have alot planned and written but classes are kicking me rn. i just needed to post this cuz i think it sounded really good :)

[creampuffqueen]

FIGURED IT OUT!!!! i present to you, yangvik's meet-ugly in my college au

kalyaan and kavik go to separate colleges, but kavik still feels pressured to be exactly like him. kaylaan is in a frat, which means kavik has to be too, even though it's not his scene at all

obviously there has to be some hazing. it's a frat

one of the seniors, tael, is having to retake an intro class that he failed in order to graduate. but he doesn't want to actually go to class

yangchen and kavik are both taking this intro class as well, being freshmen. it's either a lit class or a history class, something mandatory for graduation but not necessarily a huge part of their majors (kavik being pre-med and yangchen being international relations)

yangchen establishes herself as the smartest person in the room on day one of class. so tael tells kavik that if he wants into the frat, he's gotta get the smart girl's notes and answers so he can pass the class with as little effort as possible

so kavik starts sitting next to yangchen in class and trying very hard to pretend like he's not copying her notes

obviously yangchen catches onto this like immediately

but he's really cute, so she lets it slide for a couple weeks

then, she finally confronts him after class, thinking he's stealing answers for himself. she tells him that he's struggling in class she's more than happy to help him actually study

and kavik is so embarrassed at being caught that he tells her everything

finding out that he's doing this literally so he can get into a frat totally pisses her off. like, c'mon dude, really? you'd risk your entire academic career for a frat?

but she's more pissed at the older guy for taking advantage. so she tells kavik that he's going to help her get tael caught. she leverages his own academic crimes against him because he can't get out of this that easily

kavik begrudgingly agrees

so together they start feeding tael false information, making his grade slip. he's mad at kavik, but hey, he's just telling him what the smart girl wrote down!

and then it culminates in them feeding him a piece of one of yangchen's assignments, word for word, which gets flagged for plagiarism. tael has to go before the dean, and is expelled for academic dishonesty. (sounds cruel, but the guy literally died in canon, so...)

throughout their little plot yangchen and kavik quickly grow to become friends

kavik doesn’t get a bid from the frat, but he doesn’t need it anymore :)

and the story goes from there

hehe i love my silly little college au it's so fun

[fluentmoviequoter]

One More Favor

Pairing: Titans!Dick Grayson x fem!reader (most of this fic takes place in/around Titans 1x2)

Summary: When Dick takes Rachel out of Detroit, he needs help, but he'll have to call in a few favors first.

Word Count: 5.0k+ words

Warnings: POV changes (that hopefully make sense), fluff, a little bit of angst, descriptions of injuries/self-harm (reader cuts her arm open to remove a tracker), several descriptive fight scenes, guns?, spoiler for Titans.

A/N: This is my first Dick Grayson fic, and I actually wrote it several months ago and just got around the editing it. Dick may be OOC, but I hope you enjoy this and please let me know what you think!

Masterlist | DC/Dick Grayson Masterlist | Request Info (OPEN)

Gotham City - 4 Years Ago

The heavy door creaks as it is pulled open, warm air blowing out into the cold rain. You step inside, dropping your umbrella in the overflowing bin and wiping your shoes on the mat. Shivering slightly, you run your hands up and down your arms, attempting to warm up.

“Hi, Alfred,” you greet as you look over at him, your smile dropping at the solemn look on his face. “What happened?”

“Master Grayson left last night. He left you this,” Alfred answers as he hands you an envelope, your name written in Dick’s handwriting across the front.

“He’s not coming back, is he?” you ask, tears welling in your eyes.

“I’m afraid not. Would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you, Alfred. I’m going to go home,” you say as you pull the door open and step out, waiting for the door to close behind you. You take a deep breath and start running, not even thinking about the umbrella you left. As your tears mix with the rain on your skin, your heart feels about as warm as the Gotham City air.

Fremont, Ohio - Present Day

“Where are you taking me?” Rachel asks, spinning one of her rings on her finger as she looks out the window.

“To see an old friend. She can help us,” Dick answers, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel.

An hour later, Dick checks his phone while he waits in the car as Rachel goes into a truck stop. He tracks her through the window as he dials a number he hasn’t called in years. It rings several times, and he thinks he won’t get an answer.

“Hello?” A voice asks as the line connects.

“Hi, Alfred, it’s me.”

“It’s been a long time, Master Grayson.”

“I know. This is a one-time thing; I need a favor.”

Omar, Ohio – Present Day

You enter the diner, sighing as you fall into a booth. Looking up at the television mounted in the corner, you see a story about yet another murder in Detroit. It’s almost as bad as Gotham City these days. 

“How’s my favorite customer today?” Dan asks as he walks to the booth, his apron still on.

“I’ll bet you say that to all of your customers,” you counter with a smile, your hood still pulled over your head.

“I most certainly do not. What can I get you today?”

“Just some tea, please.”

“You need to eat.”

“Will you let me pay?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“I’m not letting you give me free food every day, Dan. Just tea.”

“Fine,” Dan sighs, returning to the kitchen and passing your order to a waitress.

The bell above the door chimes as it opens, a few sets of footsteps echoing as the door closes. You pull your hood up further, turning to face the back corner. Kelsey, Dan’s only waitress at this hour, drops off the mug of tea and a book, smiling at you as she walks away. She’s been lending you books since you first visited two months ago. You slide it closer, shaking your head as you read the summary: a vigilante who gets a new partner. Sounds familiar.

Benton, Pennsylvania – 3 ½ Years Ago

You take a deep breath before you dig the knife into your arm, making a shallow slice from the middle of your forearm up to your elbow. After you drop the knife into the hotel bathroom sink, you grab a pair of tweezers from the first aid kit and dig around, gritting your teeth as you ignore the pain. When you finally see a glint of silver, you grab it and pull. The tracker makes a ‘clink’ sound as it falls into the sink and goes down the drain. You sigh as you pick up the pre-threaded needle and start on the stitches. Good luck finding me now, Bruce.

Norwalk, Ohio – Earlier Today

“If the police are looking for me, is it smart to be on an interstate?” Rachel asks.

Dick sighs, knowing she is right. He pulls off at the next exit, getting on a small Ohio state route and heading south. They drive for about thirty minutes before coming to a small diner, claiming to have the state’s best chicken and waffles. Dick is ready for a break, so he doesn’t fight Rachel when she asks him to stop. They walk into the diner, and Dick looks around, planning escape routes and scanning for trouble. The waitress and the cook both say hello as Dick and Rachel sit by the window, the kitchen and the door visible. Dick looks at the only other customer, a girl in an oversized sweatshirt leaning over a book and nursing a mug of something.

“I’m Kelsey. What can I get you, folks?” Kelsey smiles as she approaches their table.

“Chicken and waffles, please,” Rachel orders.

“Coming up, and for you, sir?”

“Just coffee,” Dick answers, smiling.

Dick watches as the cook takes the order from Kelsey before nodding toward the girl in the booth. Kelsey walks over and starts talking to her, but Dick can’t tell if it is a friendly conversation or a ‘you need to leave’ conversation. Kelsey’s shoulders drop as she turns around and walks back to the kitchen pass-through, shaking her head as she speaks to the cook. A plate and a mug slide onto the counter, and Kelsey carries them over to Dick and Rachel, telling them to let her know if they need anything.

“What are you looking at?” Rachel asks.

“I’m trying to figure out what’s going on over there,” Dick answers, gesturing across the restaurant with his chin.

Rachel looks over and cocks her head slightly, “Kelsey’s happy but a little worried, the other one is really hard to read.”

Dick nods, sipping his coffee as he looks up at the television screen. His heart drops as Rachel’s picture appears on the screen, but it is gone before he can say anything. Dick looks toward the kitchen, but no one is there. Turning his head, he sees the cook talking to the other customer, sitting at the booth with her. Kelsey and the cook stand, and the cook returns to the kitchen as Kelsey walks toward their table.

“How is everything?” Kelsey asks.

“Great. Those were definitely the best in the state,” Rachel answers.

“Need anything else?”

“Just the check,” Dick answers, reaching for his wallet.

“It’s been covered,” Kelsey assures before clearing the table.

“By who?” Dick asks, eyebrows furrowing as Kelsey smiles.

The girl in the booth looks up suddenly, leaning to look out the window. She stands and moves toward Kelsey, telling her something before walking out the back door, the book she had been reading abandoned at the booth. Kelsey whispers something to Dan before turning quickly to walk back to Dick and Rachel.

“Someone is here for her,” Kelsey says to Dick, gesturing toward Rachel, “there’s a room through the kitchen with a back door.”

Dick and Rachel stand quickly, following her through the kitchen. They all freeze at the sound of gunshots, then begin moving again.

“Why are you helping us?” Dick asks.

“Favor for a friend,” Kelsey answers as she opens the back door. “Be careful.”

Dick nods as he ushers Rachel to stand on one side of him, gripping his gun in his other hand as they slowly round the building. The girl in the sweatshirt, who Dick really needs a new name for, is standing in the parking lot, a pipe falling from her hand and three unconscious men sprawled on the ground around her. She looks up before dropping her head, putting her hands in her pocket, and walking away. Dick hears one of the men groan and decides to leave before they come to. Rachel keeps asking him if he knows the girl, and the only answer he can supply is, “I don’t think so.” Maybe he should make it his new catchphrase.

Gotham City – 4 Years Ago

You enter your apartment and grab your backpack, dumping its contents out on the floor before you run around and grab what you consider “essentials”: an extra pair of shoes, a change of clothes, cash, a fake ID, a sweatshirt, a blanket, and the letter from Dick. You slide the letter into the protected laptop pocket of my backpack, promising yourself you will read it someday, but not right now. You put on your best pair of sneakers, comfortable and warm clothes, and a jacket with a hood before walking to the ATM, emptying your account, and ditching your card before boarding a bus to Princeton. As you watch Gotham City fade behind the bus, you cry because you lost a part of yourself, and you know it would hurt too much to see reminders of him. So, you leave.

Glen Easton, West Virginia – 2 Years Ago

You check into the small motel with cash and a fake ID, grateful you can sleep in a real bed for once. You find your room and collapse against the small mattress, setting your backpack beside the bed. You open it and pull out a change of clothes before showering. The letter from Dick is still in the computer pocket, unopened. When you think you are finally ready to open it, you get scared about what is inside it and change your mind.

You retrieve the sweatshirt from the bottom of the backpack and put it on. Then you order a pizza and turn on the TV. The sweatshirt is the only thing that provides you comfort after leaving Gotham City. You left everything that tied you to that life, except the sweatshirt, and nights like this make you wish you had realized Dick was going to leave and chased him.

Omar, Ohio – Present Day

“Why are we driving around in circles? I thought you were taking me somewhere?” Rachel asks.

“I’m looking for the girl that helped us,” Dick mumbles as he looks across the street.

“Oh,” Rachel says with a smile.

“What does that mean?”

“You’ve felt different since you saw her in the diner.”

“She just reminded me of someone I used to know.”

“Someone you knew. Seems like a lot more emotion than simple acquaintances.”

“Fine, we were best friends. We did- some stuff together and we were super close,” Dick said, failing to find a way to explain their vigilante activities.

“You did stuff together?” Rachel repeats incredulously.

“Not like that,” Dick huffs. “We just- she was my best friend, and I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Why?”

“I left.”

“You left her?”

“I didn’t leave her; I left the life I had then.”

“And by extension, her,” Rachel scoffs. “Why haven’t you called her?”

“I tried, once. Her number had been disconnected and I didn’t know her new one. Or if she even wanted to talk to me.”

“Surely you know someone who would’ve stayed in contact with her. Call them.”

Dick sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He does know someone.

“Right now,” Rachel adds, “I can feel your sadness and it’s bumming me out.”

Dick pulls over, pulling his phone from his pocket and typing the number. “It’s me again. I need one more favor,” he says when the line connects.

“Of course, Master Grayson,” Alfred agrees.

“I’m looking for,” he glances at Rachel, who is listening intently, before finishing, “her. I was wondering if you had a new number for her. Or know where she is?”

“Master Grayson,” Alfred says sadly, “we haven’t seen her in four years.”

“Four years?” Dick asks, eyes widening.

“Yes, sir. She left right after you did.”

“Did you give her the letter?”

“I did. She ran out of the manor, literally, after I gave it to her. We have not heard from her since.”

“Any idea where she went?”

“Last we knew she was in Benton, Pennsylvania. But that was nearly three and a half years ago. I’m sorry, Master Grayson.”

“Thanks, Alfred,” Dick says before hanging up.

“Sorry,” Rachel says quietly, “I shouldn’t have made you call.”

“Not your fault,” Dick assures her before pulling out. He slams on his brakes and backs up, turning into an alley and parking.

“What?” Rachel yells, gripping her seat.

“I think she’ll go back to the diner, they seemed to know her. Enough to give us free food on her behalf.”

“That’s what you think happened?” Rachel asks sarcastically.

“You’re the one that read their emotions.”

Rachel sighs before agreeing, “You’re right. She’ll go back.”

They find a small motel and get a room for the night, leaving their stuff in the room before returning to the diner. Entering, Dick and Rachel look around but only see the cook and a different waitress. 

“Welcome back,” the cook, who introduces himself as Dan, greets.

“Hi, Dan. We’re looking for the girl who was in here this morning. She was wearing a grey sweatshirt, reading a book, and left quickly out the back door,” Dick explains.

“Yeah, I know her. Why are you looking for her?”

“She helped you. That’s why you’re so nice to her, if not a little protective, isn’t it?” Rachel asks.

Dan’s brow furrows as he answers, “Yes, she helped me.”

“We’re not trying to hurt her or get her in trouble or anything. She helped us this morning and we’d like to repay the favor,” Dick promises. “Could you at least give us her name?”

“I don’t know her name,” Dan answers. “But she’ll probably come back here in the morning.”

“Thank you,” Dick and Rachel say together.

The following morning, Dick checks out of the motel and drives to the diner. They both look to the booth where she sat yesterday as they walk in, frowning when they see no one there. Kelsey smiles as she greets them and takes their order, exactly as they had yesterday. Dick spins his mug around as he watches the television, trying to keep himself from staring at the door.

“Dick,” Rachel whispers a few minutes later. She gestures toward the counter, where the girl is now sitting, wearing the same sweatshirt as yesterday.

Before Dick can do anything, Dan’s voice fills the diner. “All three of you need to get somewhere safe. Everyone in town is talking about some secret service agents asking about you folks.”

“All of us?” The girl in the sweatshirt asks.

“You know how these people feel about cops, but they’ll come in here eventually and you don’t need to be here,” Dan says.

“11 North Country Road 29,” the girl in the sweatshirt calls as she stands, “you got that?”

“Yeah, we got it,” Rachel answers, practically dragging Dick to the front door.

Dick gets in the car and speeds toward the address, hoping that the girl in the sweatshirt will meet them there. And give them her name. He parks between the house and a row of trees, where the car is hidden from the road. The back door is unlocked, and Dick sweeps the house before ushering Rachel in. Several minutes later, the back door opens again, and the girl in the sweatshirt walks in, coming face-to-muzzle with Dick’s gun. Her hands are raised as he lowers the gun.

“Sorry,” Dick apologizes as he holsters it.

“Not a problem. I’d give it a few hours before leaving,” the girl says, moving past them.

“Thank you. For yesterday and right now,” Rachel says.

“Least I could do. I’ll be in the back room if you need anything.”

Rachel waits until she is out of earshot to turn toward Dick and ask, “She really reminds you of this girl doesn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Dick sighs. “That obvious?”

“Your shame is practically choking me. Why did you hurt her?"

“I didn’t mean to.”

“That’s not an excuse, Dick.”

Rachel walks toward the back room, determined to find a way to help Dick get over his hurt.

Omar, Ohio – 2 Months Ago

“Take your hands off the girl,” you demand as you enter the dark room.

Three men turn toward you, one raising a gun as the others take a step closer. You see a girl tied to a chair, a gag in her mouth, blood everywhere, and fear in her eyes. 

“You don’t know who you’re messing with, sweetheart,” the man with the gun growls.

“Right back at ya,” you say, taking a threatening step toward him.

The two other men charge toward you. You catch one of their fists as they throw it toward you, twisting him in front of you to encounter the brunt of the other man’s hit as he throws it. Their shared momentum knocks them both to the floor. You slide across the floor, elbowing the third man’s knee as you grab his hand, flipping his wrist so the gun falls to the floor. You pick it up and level it at his temple.

“One more time: let the girl go,” you demand slowly.

One of the men on the floor throws a knife, which spins in the air and nicks your arm. You glance toward him before swinging the gun and taking three shots, taking out one knee on every man. As they groan in pain and roll on the floor, you untie the girl and ask her where to go. She directs me to her father’s diner.

“I’m looking for Dan,” you say as you carry her through the back door.

Dan comes running, grabbing his first aid kit as he sits beside her. “Your arm needs attention?” he asks as he points to your scarred forearm and the small bloody patch from the knife.

“No, I’m all good. Thank you.” You begin to stand, but he stops you, refusing to let you leave until you eat something.

“You’ll never pay here. Come back anytime,” Dan says when you leave an hour later.

Omar, Ohio – Present Day

“Sorry about him,” Rachel says as she walks into the back room.

“It’s completely fine.” The girl in the sweatshirt laughs softly, her hand playing with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Rachel says as she sits in a chair across from her.

“How long have they been looking for you?”

“About a week. Since they killed my mom.”

“I’m sorry.”

Rachel shrugs. “Just so you know, the guy I’m with, Dick, he’s a cop. And he’s not usually this weird.”

She laughs again, looking up long enough that Rachel can see her face.

“You remind him of someone he used to know.”

She shakes her head before changing the subject. “You’re Rachel, right? I’m assuming you can do something, otherwise, they wouldn’t be looking for you.”

“I can feel what other people are feeling. There’s something inside of me, but I don’t know what it is.”

“Rachel, you can learn to control it. It’s obvious you’re a good person.”

“I tried to read your emotions at the diner yesterday,” Rachel admits, “but you have a lot, and they were overlapping.”

“A lot has happened to me in the last few years. I don’t even know what I’m feeling all the time.”

“They’re clearer now. You’re sad and regretful,” Rachel says quietly.

“I don’t care that you’re looking, Rach. The more you use your powers, the better you’ll get at them. And you’re dead on.”

“Sometimes, when I touch people I can see some of their memories,” Rachel explains.

The girl in the sweatshirt smiles. “You don’t even know my name.”

“What’s your name?”

She extends her hand and answers, “Find out.”

Gotham City is cold in winter, and the freezing rain is not helping the temperature issue. Robin is fighting behind me, our backs touching as we take down the last of the numerous bad guys.

“Nice work,” Robin says as he smiles at me. “But you’re cold, stop touching me.”

“Oh? I am cold? Your Kevlar is practically frozen,” I respond sarcastically.

He pulls me into his side, pressing the button on his belt to turn on his cape heater.

The setting changes: a large door opens, and an umbrella is placed in a bin, destined to be forgotten.

“-left last night. He left you this.”

An envelope trades hands, and a name is written on it. The door is opened and closed, then running in the rain gives way to stressed packing and boarding a bus. The same envelope is unopened years later, a new scar appears on a forearm, the same backpack is stashed in a motel, and a sweatshirt is the most prized possession.

Omar, Ohio – Present Day

“It was you,” Rachel says, her eyes wide as her hand slips from yours.

“What was?” you ask.

“You’re the girl Dick left, the one he’s feeling so guilty and sad about.”

“He what?”

“He saw you in the diner and was reminded of a girl he used to know. He said they ‘did stuff together.’ You don’t look like that girl; you are that girl.”

“What did you see?” you ask, confused about how exactly her powers work.

“I see some of the most important things in your life. I saw you fighting with Robin and then learning that someone left. You’ve been on the run since then, haven’t you? And the sweatshirt means something.”

“What do you know about Robin?”

“I know who he is. I know what he went through. I think you two should talk.”

A noise outside causes you to stand suddenly. “Stay here.”

You walk out, seeing Dick holding his gun as he moves toward a window. You move to the other side of the room, by another door, and stand against the wall as the door is kicked open. A hand holding a gun comes inside; you grab the wrist and slam it down against your knee. The gun hits the floor and slides away. The man raises both hands to your shoulders, pushing you backward and into the wall. You form a fist and slam it up into his chin, his head snapping back as his grip on you loosens. While you fight him, Dick takes on a second man who enters the house.

Dick moves behind the door, grabbing the man’s shirt collar and flipping him to the floor. He attempts to get information from him but comes up empty. Slamming his fist to his nose repeatedly, Dick doesn’t stop until the man loses consciousness. He looks over and sees the girl in the sweatshirt standing from the floor, wiping blood from her nose.

“That was impressive. You two could be partners,” Rachel says as she walks in, smirking as she looks over at you.

Dick opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off, telling them, “You two should get out of here while you still can.”

“I’m not leaving,” Rachel says, crossing her arms. “Not until you two talk.”

“About what?” Dick asks.

“Rachel,” you warn.

“She’s right. We do need to get going.”

“Show him.”

“Either we need to leave, or I need more information,” Dick sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

A phone rings in the back room, and you walk away to answer it, releasing a breath as you realize it was Kelsey.

“What was that about?” Dick whispers.

“You two have to talk before you never get a chance again,” Rachel says.

“Someone broke into your house and assaulted several officers,” you say as you return, “the police are calling a nationwide manhunt for you, Rachel.”

“I am not leaving without you,” she says, stepping toward you and grabbing your hand. 

Her eyes fall to the sleeve before she glances up at you and pushes the sleeve up. You push it back down quickly and look away from her.

“I can’t go with you,” you say sadly, shaking your head.

“You can if you want to,” Dick offers, “you’ve been a huge help.”

You look toward Rachel, who only nods as she squeezes your hand.

“Just tell him,” Rachel whispers.

You take a deep breath before you look up and pull your hood down. “Hi, Dickie.”

Dick’s eyes widen as he takes a hesitant step forward.

“Rachel said I remind you of someone,” you say. “I thought-“

Dick cuts you off by rushing forward and hugging you tightly. You return the hug, gripping him tightly and burying your face in his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry I left,” Dick whispers.

“It’s okay.”

“Tell him everything else,” Rachel encourages from beside you.

You squeeze Dick one more time before pulling back and saying, “I left Gotham City after you did. Alfred gave me the letter and I just ran. I’ve been in a bunch of small cities since then, but nowhere as long as here. I saved Dan’s daughter from some kidnappers and just stayed for some reason.”

“Alfred said he didn’t know where you went after Benton,” Dick says.

“I cut my tracker out in Benton,” you explain, pulling your sleeve up and exposing the scar.

He reaches forward and gently runs his fingers up the scar. “Tracker?”

“Right. Bruce told me he sedated you when he gave you yours, something about you being too excited about being in the bat cave.”

“He put a tracker in me?”

“He put trackers in all of us.”

The phone rings twice before silencing. “That’s our cue to leave,” you say.

Columbus, Ohio – 1 Week Later

“How’s your arm?” you ask as you enter the room.

“Healing quickly,” Dick answers, smiling as he looks up at you from the hotel bed.

“Looks good,” you say, gently holding his arm, “yours probably won’t scar.”

“Pizza’s here,” Rachel calls as someone knocks on the door.

Dick answers the door and gets the pizza while you and Rachel get drinks from the mini-fridge. You all sit on the small couch as you eat, and you can’t help but think of old times. The following morning, you, Dick, and Rachel load into Dick’s car and drive toward Covington. 

“Are you going to tell him?” Rachel asks as we wait in the car while Dick goes into a police station. 

“Tell him what?’

“That you still love him.”

“I-“

“I can feel it. I could feel it when he was Robin and when you found out he left, in the safe house, and right now.”

“I don’t know, Rach.”

Dick sighs as he gets back in the car. “I got the description of the woman who broke into the crime scene.”

“Where to now?” you ask.

“Arcade. 5 miles north,” Rachel answers.

You laugh lightly as you shrug at Dick.

“An hour,” Dick says as he puts the car in gear.

“And a half,” you and Rachel correct together.

You give her some cash before you and Dick find a seat where you can see the entire arcade.

“You’re good with her,” you say as you steal a fry from his plate.

He playfully swats your hand away before moving his plate closer. “So are you,” he agrees.

You watch Rachel for a moment before looking down at your sweatshirt sleeve.

“Are you okay?” Dick asks, his hand landing on your arm.

“Yeah,” you say with a nod, still looking down. “This sweatshirt is the only connection I’ve had to you for the last four years.”

“What?”

You extend your arm toward him, watching his face as he grabs your wrist and looks at the sleeve, his initials and a small Robin messily embroidered on it. 

“You kept it?” he asks.

“Of course, I did.”

“Mine’s in the trunk of my car,” he admits, smiling as he looks back up at you.

“Really?”

“You think that I’d leave it after all the hard work we put into them? I couldn’t leave it behind; it felt like leaving you behind. I tried to call you.”

“I left my phone; didn’t want Bruce to come after me.”

“Why does Rachel keep telling you to talk to me?”

You laugh before answering, “There’s something I haven’t told you and she wants me to.”

“What?”

“That I’m in love with you,” you whisper, looking into his eyes.

Dick is silent as he stares at you, his hand still wrapped around your wrist.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said any-“

Dick pulls your wrist gently, slamming his lips to yours. His other hand raises and wraps around the base of your neck, pulling you closer. You move your hands to his waist, pulling yourself closer to him as you kiss him like he’s your source of life.

“I take it you told him,” Rachel says, suddenly standing on the other side of the table.

Dick pulls back, smiling at you before saying, “Shut up, Rachel.”

“I’m out of money.”

Dick pulls a fifty from his wallet, handing it to her and smiling in gratitude as she walks away. She nods and returns the smile.

“I love you,” Dick says.

“I love you,” you respond, stealing another one of his fries.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. I wanted to find you but had no idea where to look.”

“Rachel was right. We could be partners. Again.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Grayson,” you smile before kissing him again.

“You didn’t read the letter did you?”

“I couldn’t,” you admit, shaking your head, “hurt too much. Why?”

“I wrote it to tell you I loved you. I wanted to take you with me but was scared.”

“I guess I should read it then, because I love you, too, Dickie.”

You and Dick watch as Rachel walks toward you, a tall woman with bright Magenta hair on one side and a green-haired boy on her other side. 

When they reach the table, Rachel says, “This is Kory and Gar. They have some interesting stories.”

“This feels familiar,” you mutter to Dick as you stand up.

“I’m gonna need a bigger car,” Dick says as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.