#Mi Protective Glass

[wosospacegirl]

Mamá - Alexia Putellas

Summary: The first day as a family of three. Featuring baby Clara.

Word count: 4.7k

This is part of my 1k commemoration blurb! <3

Masterlist

..

The hospital doors slid open with a soft , and the afternoon sun hit them like a warm welcome home. Alexia had one arm curled protectively around Y/n’s as she walked at a snail’s pace.

The reason why?

She had just given birth to the little baby girl, who was lying on her arms peacefully. 

Clara was a calm newborn, as if she wasn’t that excited to meet the world just yet.

“Careful,” Alexia murmured for the fifth time in two minutes.

“I'm walking,” Y/n muttered, voice hoarse with exhaustion, “not skydiviing.”

But Alexia didn’t laugh. She just frowned, holding the car door open and watching as Y/n  all but melted into the seat, her face pinching when her body shifted.

“Mi amor…” Alexia leaned in and kissed her forehead gently, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “You okay?”

"I'll put Clara in," Alexia whispered, as if the baby might wake from just the words. 

“It hurts,” Y/n mumbled, head back against the headrest.

Alexia gently took the baby from Y/n’s arms and walked to the back seat, where the car seat awaited. “Alright, baby girl. Let's do this.”

Clara, of course, didn’t respond. She was completely knocked out, mouth slightly open, little fists curled by her ears.

The tiniest snore escaped her, and Alexia froze, awe and panic hitting her all at once.

“Okay,” she whispered again, more to herself this time. “Okay.”

She bent down, trying to gently manoeuvre Clara into the car seat, but every buckle looked suspicious. One looked like it would strangle her. Another looked like it would crush her ribs. 

Were these designed by engineers or villains? 

”Ale…” Y/n ’s voice was soft, a little slurred. “Do you need help?”

Alexia straightened up immediately, back rigid, almost offended. 

“No! I mean. No, amor. I’ve got it.” She said, “Of course. I'm a mom. Moms knows this.”

She turned back to the car seat, staring at the buckles like they might arrange themselves out of respect.

Por favour... she thought. Let me put my daughter in a seat without traumatising all of us.

And then, miraculously,,it clicked.

Literally.

The buckle snapped into place, snug and perfect and safe. Clara didn’t even flinch.

Alexia stared at her handiwork for a second, then blinked up at Y/n, wide-eyed. “I did it.”

Y/n gave her the softest smile, eyelids drooping.

“Told you. Mom of the year already.”

Alexia beamed, shutting the door carefully and whispering, “Gracias,” like the baby might bless her in her sleep.

Alexia slid into the driver’s seat, shutting the door with exaggerated care. 

She adjusted the mirror like she was preparing for a rally race, then turned the engine on with a low purr.

And then… nothing.

She just sat there.

Hands on the wheel. Eyes locked on the rearview mirror.

Clara, visible only in the reflection, was still sound asleep, tiny chest rising and falling like the gentlest tide.

Her cheeks were pink and soft, lips parted in the most peaceful little O.

Y/n  cracked one eye open from the passenger seat. “Ale.”

Alexia didn’t move.

“Bebé. Please drive. I need a shower. Like a real one. Standing up. With hot water and dignity.”

Alexia flinched a little, glancing over. “Sí, sí, of course. Sorry. I’m just–”

She looked back at the mirror.

“She’s just... she's so small. What if someone hits us? What if I hit someone? What if the sun is too bright on her eyes?”

Y/n  blinked. “Her eyes are closed, she’s literally sleeping.”

"I know!" Alexia hissed in a whisper-yell. “But what if it…blinds her?”

Y/n let out a tiny, tired laugh. “The sun won’t blind her, you tinted the window, because of this, now please, drive.”

“Okay, I’m driving the car,” Alexia said, putting it in gear.

The car inched forward like it was made of glass.

A few minutes later, they were still crawling through the hospital parking lot.

Alexia was gripping the steering wheel with both hands, eyes flicking between the road and the mirror every three seconds.

“You’re going ten kilometres an hour.”

“It’s a safe ten kilometres.”

“At this rate, Clara will be old enough to drive herself home.”

Alexia exhaled through her nose, tense. “I just... she's so little. And you’re in pain. I-I’m scared.”

Y/n  reached out, hand landing gently on Alexia’s thigh. “You're doing great, mamá.”

Alexia swallowed. Hard. Her jaw tightened.

Then, under her breath, she whispered, “I know this is not the moment because you just gave birth, but I think I’m gonna cry.”

Y/n smiled, eyes already closing again.

“That’s okay. I might too. But please cry at home. In the shower. After me.”

They finally pulled into the driveway, after forty minutes–the hospital was 15 minutes away from their house.

The sun was dipping low and casting a soft orange over the house, especially over the tree house Alexia had already built for Clara.

Before the car had even fully stopped, Y/n was reaching for the handle, ready to launch herself toward the promise of a real shower and clean clothes.

But Alexia practically lunged across the car. “NO! Let me–wait, don’t move!”

Y/n froze. “Alexia–”

“I’ll open the door. Just–just wait, mi amor, por favor.”

“You’re not defusing a bomb, calm down.”

Alexia was already out the door, hurrying around the car like a mom on a mission. She flung open the passenger side with a triumphant look.

"There," she said, slightly breathless. "Now you may exit."

"Thank you," Y/n  deadpanned, dragging herself out with an exaggerated wince.

Before Alexia could stop her again, Y/n  made a beeline for the back seat, reaching for the three bags they had packed.

“No! No, no, no!” Alexia’s voice went up a full octave. “You can’t carry anything heavy, remember? You had a human being ripped out of you yesterday.”

Y/n turned, halfway holding a diaper bag. “Okay, so you plan to carry three bags and our 26-hour-old daughter?”

Alexia straightened her shoulders, clearly insulted by the doubt. “Yes. Obviously.”

Y/n was now standing at the doorstep, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, watching as Alexia approached with the determination of someone carrying the fragilest thing in the world.

Over one shoulder, she had the hospital bag and the diaper bag.

In the crook of her opposite arm, baby Clara was swaddled and sleeping, completely unbothered.

Dangling off two fingers was a small tote with Y/n ’s essentials.

Y/n opens the door wordlessly, stepping aside.

Alexia entered slowly, carefully, like every step might trigger a booby trap.

Her face glistening, jaw clenched, eyes darting between the bags and Clara.

“Mi amor,” Y/n finally said, watching her wife set everything down in a precise, strategic order. “Are you sweating or crying?”

Alexia exhaled. "Both."

“You could’ve just asked me to carry one bag.”

“No,” Alexia said, straightening up with the wild eyes of someone who's been through enough. “You gave birth. You earned this.”

Y/n blinked. “…The right to not carry a bag?”

“The right to not do anything for the rest of your life if you don’t want to.”

Y/n huffed a laugh as Alexia gently shifted Clara into her arms.

Alexia’s whole body relaxes the second their baby is safe against her chest. She pressed a soft kiss to Clara’s head, then to Y/n’s temple.

The house is finally quiet.

The kind of quiet that feels sacred, like no one dares breathe too loudly in case baby Clara wakes up and decides to use her lungs.

Y/n was slouched on the sofa, the baby tucked under her shirt and latched, nursing quietly.

Exhaustion hung heavy in her posture, the weight of new motherhood evident in the way her body sagged and her voice softened when she spoke.

Alexia crouched down in front of her.

“How’s it going? Still hurt?” Alexia asked, her voice full of concern.

“Yes... I feel like she’s not latching properly,” Y/n murmured, her eyes half-lidded as she looked down at the tiny baby nursing in her arms.

Alexia hesitated, then suggested, “We could always try formula–”

“No.” Y/n’s voice was sharp, a little defensive. “I’m breastfeeding. No formula.”

“There’s no shame in it if it’s hurting you, Y/n,” Alexia countered, her tone soft but insistent.

Y/n looked down at their baby, who had an incredible amount of hair already, a soft shade of brunette that looked just like Alexia's.

Her heart ached. “It’s important for her,” she said quietly.

Alexia nodded, understanding the desire to give their baby the best. But her concern didn’t waver.

“It’s important for her to have a mom who isn’t in pain, too.”

Y/n met her gaze, a warning tone creeping into her voice. “Alexia…”

Sighing, Y/n kissed her forehead gently, the exhaustion making her movements slow.

“What if we call a midwife? Someone who specialises in this?”

Y/n looked up at Alexia, a hint of unease in her eyes. “I don’t want someone coming here. She needs time to build her immune system.”

Y/n shifted a little, wincing as the baby continued to nurse, her tiny hands gripping the fabric of Y/n’s shirt. 

She could feel the pain in her body, but there was also something soothing about the way their daughter was close to her, the connection that came with breastfeeding.

Yet, the discomfort still lingered, and she couldn’t ignore it.

Alexia watched her carefully, noticing the tension in Y/n’s shoulders. She hated seeing her in pain, especially when she was trying so hard.

Alexia reached out, her voice soft but filled with concern.

“Amor,” she started, hesitating for a moment, “maybe we can try pumping? That way, she still gets the milk, and you’re not in so much pain.”

Y/n stiffened for a second, the idea swirling in her mind.

She looked down at their daughter, her heart aching at the thought of not breastfeeding in the way she had envisioned.

 “I... I don’t know, Alexia,” she said, voice quiet but heavy. “I just wanted to feel this connection with her, you know? I wanted to do this... like this.”

Alexia’s heart clenched. She understood. 

She had seen how important this moment was to Y/n, the desire to have that bond, that closeness.

But she also knew that Y/n’s well-being mattered too.

“I know, amor,” Alexia said softly, her voice tinged with regret. 

“I’m sorry it’s been harder than we thought. But you don’t have to keep pushing through the pain just to feel that connection. You’ll still be connected to her, yeah?” Alexia continued.

“I’ll think about it,” Y/n whispered, glancing at Alexia, her eyes filled with exhaustion and a little bit of vulnerability. “I just... I just wanted to do it right.”

Alexia let Y/n and Clara have their moment while she went around the house to give it a quick clean.

When Y/n’s water broke two days ago, they hadn’t exactly cared about keeping the house tidy.

Thankfully, Clara’s nursery and the little set-up they had created in their bedroom for the first month of Clara’s life were done, so Alexia only had to worry about vacuuming and laundry.

When she was done upstairs, she went to the kitchen and did the dishes.

When she passed through the living room, she couldn't help but smile at the way Y/n was talking to Clara about how excited she was for the baby girl to meet all the different animals in the world.

After the kitchen was sparkling, Alexia made her way to the sofa again.

She sat on Y/n’s side, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and bringing her closer. Clara was all done; now she was just sleeping against her mom.

“Want me to go set up your shower?” Alexia asked, kissing Y/n’s cheek while gently rubbing Clara’s cheek.

Y/n hummed sleepily. “Make it hot, but not so hot I pass out.”

“Sí, mi vida. I got you,” Alexia nodded.

Upstairs, Alexia moved with mechanical precision again. 

She tested the water temperature five times– slightly warm, but not too warm. 

Postpartum rules, she remembered the nurse telling her. She lays out the softest towel they own. Then a robe. Then that pair of Y/n ’s favourite loose cotton boxers

Alexia hesitated before grabbing the postpartum diaper.

Y/n hated them. Declared them a war crime while the midwife made her wear one in order for them to check out. 

But Alexia laid one on the edge of the counter anyway, right next to the perineal spray and the cooling cream. 

She even placed a tiny bar of lavender soap and some wipes down the counter, just to make sure she had everything she needed.

Alexia made her way downstairs and paused in the doorway, heart twisting at the sight.

Y/n was still on the sofa, head tilted back, eyes closed. Clara was curled against her chest, as if she hadn’t moved since Alexia looked at her 5 minutes earlier.

One of Y/n’s hands was cupping Clara’s tiny bottom protectively. The other is slack on the sofa cushion.

Alexia swallowed. Then crossed the room, leaning down to kiss Y/n’s forehead.

“Okay, mamá,” she whispered. “Time to go get your shower. Your dignity. Whatever’s left of your spine.”

Y/n didn’t open her eyes. “You sure you got her?”

Alexia takes Clara as carefully as if she were made of glass “I carried three bags and a whole newborn earlier. I’ve got her.”

Y/n cracked an eye open. “You also sweat-cried through the driveway..

Alexia, already walking away with Clara nestled in her arms, paused and shot a glance over her shoulder.

“Shower, mi amor,” she said with a grin, her tone light and amused.

Y/n groaned softly, pushing herself up from the sofa.

Her body was still sore from everything–postpartum fatigue, the lingering aches of labour–and every movement felt like a chore. 

She muttered under her breath, “I swear, if this is what motherhood is, I’m gonna need a nap every five minutes.”

Alexia paused, turning back to look at Y/n with a soft smile.

“I know it’s tough right now, but I promise you a shower will make it better.”

Y/n tried to shift her weight to stand. Her muscles screamed in protest, and it took every ounce of energy she had just to push herself upright.

Alexia glanced as she heard the sound of Y/n struggling, her expression changing into something more tender.

“Need help?” she asked, already halfway across the room, Clara secure in her arms.

Y/n gave her a look–a mix of exhaustion and sheer stubbornness–that clearly said: Obviously.

Alexia’s smile widened as she walked over, carefully positioning Clara in one arm and reaching out with her free hand to steady Y/n.

“Come on, let’s get you to the shower, yeah? You deserve a break.”

Y/n leaned into her touch, her body grateful for the support, but still managing to roll her eyes a little.

“This isn’t what I imagined when you promised me ‘helping hands,’” she muttered.

"Clara," Y/n muttered through gritted teeth as they went upstairs. “Your mother is doing everything for us right now. Please, at the very least, remain unconscious."

Clara stirred in her sleep, and Alexia kissed her hair. “She’s listening. She’s very polite.”

They make it to the bathroom. Y/n leaned against the doorframe, trying not to cry from the sheer effort of movement.

“Okay,” she said, breathlessly. “Shower time. Thank you.”

Y/n started to close the door, but then Alexia gasped, her hand flying to the door to stop it from shutting.

“Amor, we never close the door!”

Y/n shot her a look over her shoulder.

“Alexia. The next time you have a child tear your vagina open, you can choose your own boundaries. Right now? I need one, please.”

“But–”

“I’m not asking you to sleep in the guest room," Y/n cutted in dryly, sliding the door shut with one hand. “I just need a ten-minute break from being touched, stared at, or milked.”

The door shut gently in Alexia’s mildly offended face.

Alexia stares at it for a second.

Clara moved in her arms again, she yawned softly, then opened her eyes– wide and hazel, just like Alexia’s.

They stared at each other.

“Hi,” Alexia whispers.

Clara blinked.

“Okay, seems like mamá needs her time,” Alexia said, slowly pacing backwards down the hall. “So… it’s just us now.”

Clara didn’t respond. She just stared. With full intensity. Like she’s trying to figure out what Alexia’s whole deal is.

Alexia swallowed. “Hm. I don’t really… know what to do with you yet. We’ve known each other for less than two days, you see.”

Clara blinks again. Still staring.

Alexia nods solemnly. “Same.”

..

Alexia didn’t go far. In fact, she didn't go anywhere.

She paced back and forth in front of the bathroom door. Baby Clara tucked snug against her chest, her tiny nose brushing against Alexia’s collarbone.

The bathroom door remained shut.

Alexia leaned against the wall. She looked down.

Clara’s still wide awake.

And staring.

Again.

“You're so quiet,’ Alexia whispered, brow furrowing. “I thought babies were supposed to cry.”

Clara blinked. Her tiny mouth moved a little. But no sound.

Alexia tilted her head. “Okay, this is weird. I feel like you're judging me.”

“Seriously. You’ve been out of the womb for—" she checks her watch, "twenty-eight hours, and you already have an opinion? About me?"

The baby squinted slightly, like she was trying to focus on Alexia, or like she was trying to psychically assess if Alexia was competent enough to be trusted with her life.

Alexia straightened, suddenly defensive. “Hey. I’m not a stranger, you know. I talked to you every night since we found out you were in mamá’s belly.”

Clara said nothing. Just slowly, judgmentally blinking.

“I sang to you,” Alexia continued, her voice rising slightly. “I read you books. I put my phone speaker on her stomach like this so you would  know my voice! Don’t look at me like I just showed up today, okay?”

The toilet flushed. Water ran in the sink.

Alexia lowers her voice immediately. "Okay, okay, okay. Inside voice. Inside voice, mamí’s gonna get her show now, I think she wants quiet."

Alexia rocked on her heels. Clara stared. Still no crying. No nothing.

“I thought this would be harder,” Alexia whispered. "You’re supposed to scream, right? Be mad? Hungry? That’s what they told me in the classes. But you’re just…”

She exhaled. Her voice gets soft. “You’re just... here. With me, being all calm.” 

Clara blinked.

Then, just once–barely even a movement–her tiny hand shifted. It was not much. But it felt like something.

Alexia grinned

“Okay. I forgive you for judging me. But only because you’re extremely cute.”

When Clara started to fight sleep, Alexia went to their room and gently laid Clara on her bassinet beside their bed, watching as her daughter’s tiny chest rose and fell, her soft breath filling the room. 

The baby’s little hands curl, grasping at the air, and Alexia can't help but stare at her with awe and love, so much love.

Alexia quietly walked back into the hallway, settling against the doorframe with a sigh.

Her mind was still swirling already–how to balance it all, how to care for Y/n, while also caring for Clara, how to... do this.

Then, Y/n ’s voice called from the bathroom, a soft, exhausted whisper. “Ale?”

Alexia didn't hesitate. She knocked gently. “What is it, baby? Do you want me to come in?”

There’s a long pause, and then Y/n ’s voice cracked, just enough to send a sharp pang through Alexia’s chest. “I... I can’t.”

Alexia’s heart races. She pushed the door open slightly. Y/n stood there, the image of postpartum exhaustion. 

Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes wet and glassy, lips pursed into the most heartbreaking pout Alexia has ever seen.

Her body was a patchwork of vulnerability: her belly still soft and swollen, the evidence of the intense labour still visible.

Her eyes flickered down to the pants she was struggling to pull on, the ‘mom’ diaper visible beneath. 

It was raw and real. Alexia just wanted to wrap Y/n in a bubble.

“I can’t dress myself, Alexia," Y/n muttered, a hint of stubbornness breaking through her, but there’s no masking the sadness in her voice.

Alexia steps closer, her hand reaching out but not quite touching. “I’ll help then, sí?”

Y/n’s eyes filled with tears. She sniffled, her shoulders shaking just slightly.

“My whole body hurts.” Her voice cracked as she wiped her eyes, the pain on her face. “I have a life to take care of. I’m leaking, and I have to wear a diaper, Alexia!”

The tears fell freely, as if everything from the last hours had suddenly caught up to her. 

The overwhelming, relentless pain. The vulnerability. The immense responsibility.

Alexia felt a lump form in her throat, and for a moment, she was at a loss for words, watching the woman she loves break down in front of her.

She didn’t know what to say, what to do, how to make it better.

So, instead, Alexia took a small step forward, her arms wrapping gently around Y/n, careful not to press too hard against her sore body.

She hugged her softly.

“Shh,” Alexia whispers, her voice soothing and steady. “It’s okay. I’m right here, mi amor, you can cry,”

Y/n’s sobs were soft but pained as she sank into Alexia’s embrace. “I’m so tired and we’ve just got her home, I-I’m just scared. It’s too much.”

Alexia pressed her cheek to Y/n ’s temple, kissing the top of her head. 

“It is too much, we have a daughter now. You went through labour. It’s a lot to take in, but things will settle, and your body will heal. We just need to be patient, okay?’

Alexia gently guided Y/n into the bedroom, her hands careful as she helped her dress.

She took her time with the soft, soothing motions, her fingers brushing lightly over Y/n’s skin. There’s no rush, no urgency.

When Alexia moved to the bedside table, she retrieved the cream. 

She was preparing for this, had had it ready for days, but she had never imagined applying it like this.

She rubbed the lotion over Y/n’s belly–gentle strokes that linger just a little longer than necessary, like a silent promise that she was there, always.

Y/n ’s breath hitched, the warmth of the cream mixing with Alexia’s touch. It was soothing.

“I’ve got you, bebé”, Alexia whispered, her voice low and soft as she helped Y/n pull the pyjama top over her head. “We’re in this together.”

Y/n ’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, letting the care wash over her, letting herself just breathe in the safety of the moment.

When they finally settled into the bed, Y/n lay back, her body aching, but not so much after the shower. She turned her gaze toward the little bassinet by the bed. 

Clara was peacefully asleep, her tiny hands curled by her face, her chest rising and falling with each soft breath.

Y/n ’s hand drifted to her cheek, the sensation of Clara’s presence more grounding than anything else.

Alexia noticed the way Y/n ’s gaze softened. She stepped closer. “She’s the most beautiful baby ever.”

Y/n didn’t respond right away. Her eyes remain fixed on Clara, and Alexia watched her, watching her become a mother in real time. 

It was overwhelming, beautiful, and fragile all at once.

“She is,”  Y/n  finally whispered. “And it’s not just because we’re her moms. She’s actually perfect. I mean, look at that hair–she already has more than I do.”

Alexia smiled, nodding. “I’m glad she’s not a bald baby.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “Why? Already planning her hairdos?”

Alexia’s grin widened. “Yes, actually. I’ve been watching videos on how to do baby hairstyles.”

Y/n stared at her, wide-eyed. “You did?”

“Yes,” Alexia replied confidently. “She’s gonna wear a lot of Barça bows, right, bebita?”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, teasing. “Hmm, but what if she grows up to be a Madrid fan?”

Alexia’s smile immediately faltered, her eyes widening in mock horror.

“Don’t joke about that.”

Y/n grinned, enjoying the moment.

“Just saying, you never know. She could be one of those rebellious kids.”

Alexia frowned playfully. “I will disown her. You can raise her then.”

Y/n laughed, but the sound softened as she looked at Clara, her little features relaxed in sleep.

“I love you,” she murmured, her voice low, “Even if you’re talking about disowning our newborn daughter.”

Alexia’s playful frown melted into a soft smile. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/n’s forehead.

“I love you more, and I’m sure we don’t need to worry about disowning her, no daughter of mine is gonna wear Madrid colour, I’m sure we’ll manage to steer her in the right direction.”

Then, they just lay there in silence, watching Clara sleep, completely unbothered by anything other than the comfort of her little world. No football rivalries, no pressure, no expectations. 

Just a tiny, peaceful human, curled up and completely unaware of the chaos of the world.

..

Alexia stirred, and her eyes fluttered open. It was dark. She blinks, adjusting to the dim light coming through the window, and then Alexia heard a soft, desperate sound. 

A faint whimper at first, and then, unmistakably, a full-on cry.

Clara.

“Shh, mi amor,” Alexia whispered to herself, her voice barely a murmur as she carefully slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Y/n. She went to Clara’s bassinet, scooping the baby into her arms.

Clara’s cries were louder now, her little face red, her mouth open wide.

“Shh, mama got you, don’t worry,” Alexia cooed softly, her hands instinctively holding Clara close, her movements gentle as she cradled her against her chest.

Y/n stirred softly at the sound, mumbling something, but Alexia didn’t want to wake her–not yet.

She could see the exhaustion in her face, in her limp form against the pillow. 

So, with one last look at Y/n, Alexia stepped out of the room, closing the door as quietly as she could, trying to see if Clara maybe just wanted some attention.

It took only a few minutes for Clara’s cries to become more frantic, and Alexia sighed. 

She’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but there was no stopping it. Gently, she nudged Y/n  awake, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Baby, it’s time for her feeding. She's hungry.”

Y/n  groggily turned, her tired eyes blinking as she processed the words.

She grumbled something, too soft for Alexia to understand, and then adjusted herself. 

Alexia helped her sit up, pulling her into a half-sitting position, propping pillows behind her for support.

Clara was immediately quiet as Y/n pulled her close, the baby nestling in, instinctively finding her place.

Alexia stood back for a moment, her heart swelling as she watched Y/n. 

When Clara finished feeding, Alexia gently took the baby back into her arms, guiding her to burp.

The little one was still so small, and Alexia’s fingers gently massaged her back as she leaned her against her shoulder. 

After a few moments, Clara let out a small, satisfying burp, and Alexia smiled, already putting Clara back to her bassinet.

And then she looked at Y/n.

Her wife was already half asleep, her shirt still off, her body tired and heavy.

She didn’t even stir when Alexia gently cleaned her breast from the milk that had dripped.

Alexia’s movements were careful, her touch reverent as she applied the soothing cream to Y/n’s chest.

She couldn’t help but smile softly as she did it—this was her Y/n.

She gently adjusted Y/n’s shirt, pulling it back down over her chest before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Sleep, mi amor,’ Alexia said softly.

The kiss lingered for a moment, and then Alexia returned to bed, slipping into the covers next to Y/n, pulling the blanket over both of them.

“I love you, my girls,” Alexia murmured, her eyes drifting shut.

..

a/n: if you read this far — first of all, ily. second of all, feel free to let me know what you thought!

i love hearing your reactions, fav lines, or just general thoughts 🫶 it really makes my day <3

Tag list: @edensbreeze @silentwolfsstuff, @goodloe-e @mccabeskcc @blaugranafairy @footy-lover264 @the-fandom-ness @wosofavfanfics

[theonlyonesora]

Moonless Night

Synopsis. How he reacts to you having a miscarriage in the middle of the night

Pairings. (SEPARATE) Carlos sainz x Reader, Max verstappen x Reader, Lewis Hamilton x Reader, Fernando alonso x Reader

Carlos Sainz

It happened in silence, like a shadow crossing the moon. Blood on your thighs, trembling fingers, the numb sting of knowing. Carlos found you on the bathroom floor at 3 a.m., eyes wide, lips bloodless, the soft whimper caught in your throat like broken glass.

He didn’t speak. Just fell to his knees beside you, arms wrapping you with desperation. His shirt soaked with your grief.

“No, no, mi amor…” he whispered, as if saying it enough times would undo it.

You sobbed into his chest. You felt broken. And he, always so composed, let the tears fall down his cheeks as he kissed your hair and held you like you were still everything.

Because you were.

Max Verstappen

Max wasn’t built for softness. He didn’t always have the words. But when he answered your scream in the dark and found you trembling in bed, blood pooling beneath your nightgown, all his edges crumbled.

“No... God—” His voice cracked.

He carried you to the hospital himself, one arm cradling you, the other clutching your hand so tightly you could feel his pulse through his palm.

Later, when the sterile silence of the hospital swallowed your sobs, Max sat beside you, staring at nothing. His hand never left yours.

“It's not your fault,” he said suddenly, voice hoarse. “None of it.”

And when you turned to him, hollow and undone, he leaned in, resting his forehead to yours.

“I should’ve protected you both,” he whispered.

You squeezed his hand back, and he finally cried.

Lewis Hamilton

The hotel room was too quiet. When the pain hit, your cry woke Lewis instantly, panic flooding his voice before his feet hit the floor.

“Love? What’s happening?”

When he saw the blood, his body froze. Just for a second. Then instinct took over—blankets thrown back, towels, trembling hands holding you, whispering comfort even as tears pooled in his eyes.

The ER lights were cold. The answers colder. And when the nurse finally left, Lewis pulled you close in the little hospital bed, your head to his chest, his hand on your belly.

“We’ll grieve together,” he whispered. “I’m not letting go of you. Not for a second.”

You clung to him like a prayer. Because in that moment, his embrace was the only thing holding you together.

Fernando Alonso

It had been too early to tell anyone. A dream cradled in silence. A secret shared in pillow talk and soft smiles. So when it all went wrong, it shattered like stained glass in your chest.

Fernando was already awake when it happened, instinct pulling him toward you before you could even cry.

“I think… it’s gone,” you whispered.

And something in his face broke. He knelt at your feet, pressing a kiss to your knees, his hands stained with grief.

“I would’ve been a terrible father,” he muttered.

“You would’ve been perfect,” you whispered through tears.

And he climbed into bed with you, tangled in your sorrow, pressing your hands to his heart.

“I didn’t know I could want something so much until I saw it in your eyes,” he said.

And he held you, until the night surrendered to mourning.

[sturniphone]

── ⌗ older!matt . . . bunny!reader

❛ bunny makes matt kiss all her plushies before he's allowed cuddles ❜

Matt’s already in his sleep shirt, glasses pushed up his nose, hair still damp from the shower. He’s trying to climb into bed beside you, but you’re curled up against your plush mountain, arms crossed, nose in the air. ❝Nope,❞ you say, smug and sparkly-eyed. ❝You can’t get in until you do it.❞ He blinks, caught off guard. ❝Do what, bunny?❞

You gesture dramatically to the ten or so plushies arranged across your pillows – Sanrio ones, a bunny Labubu, a sleepy frog with a heart on its belly, a little pink Miffy with a velvet bow, and that one soft, faded bear with the crooked ribbon you’ve had since you were six. ❝You hurt all their feelings too,❞ you pout, eyes wide with theatrical sadness. ❝You didn’t say goodnight to anyone.❞

Matt groans—more out of love than actual resistance. He drags a hand down his face, sighing like he’s being tasked with something impossible, but he’s already melting. Because how could he not? He crouches down at the edge of the bed, strong arms, stubbled jaw, and all, and solemnly picks up each plush with the care of a man tucking in real children.

❝Goodnight, Miss Strawberry Melody,❞ he mumbles, kissing the My Melody plush on her fuzzy forehead. ❝You look lovely in your little fruit bonnet.❞ You suppress a squeal behind your palms, eyes gleaming. Next, the frog. ❝Sir Hops-a-Lot, sweet dreams. Don’t let Bunny hog the blanket again.❞ You giggle, kicking your feet under the covers.

He moves on to the pink bear. ❝Mister Honeybuns, you’re in charge tonight. No monkey business.❞ He gives the bear’s crooked bow a little pat. The Labubu gets a solemn nod. ❝Little Forest Gremlin, protect the dream realm.❞ He keeps going: PomPomPurin with his little beret, a sparkly Kuromi, a plush of Cinnamoroll shaped like a cloud, and even the silly birthday monkey you won at the arcade last month.

Finally, he kisses the last plush: a sleepy brown bear in pink pyjamas, squished between your pillows. ❝Sleep tight, Princess Snugglebum. You’ve always been my favourite.❞ You cover your face, cackling. ❝Matt! That’s not her name!❞ ❝It is now,❞ he shrugs, eyes twinkling. You sigh, loud and royal. ❝Fine. You may now enter.❞ You scoot over dramatically, patting the spot beside you like you’re royalty granting an audience.

Matt slides in with a huff of relief, instantly pulling you into his arms. His hand finds your waist under the blanket, palm warm, thumb rubbing lazy circles against your skin. ❝You’re lucky you’re cute,❞ he murmurs into your hair, voice all sleep-soft and smug.

You hum against his chest, tucking your leg between his. ❝You’re lucky you’re forgiven.❞ His hand curls tighter around you. The room is quiet but not silent—the soft rustle of blankets, the steady hum of the night air, and the faint jingle of a bell on one of your plushies when you shift.

Matt presses a kiss to your forehead, one last little apology in the language of quiet affection. ❝Thanks for making up with me, Bunny,❞ he whispers. You yawn into his shirt. ❝Just don’t forget them again. They have feelings too.❞ He chuckles, brushing your hair back with gentle fingers. ❝Noted. We’ll say goodnight together tomorrow. Deal?❞

You nod, eyes fluttering shut, heart full. Surrounded by stuffed animals and warm arms, you drift off knowing you're loved, you’re safe, and every single plushie got their kiss goodnight.

⋆˚꩜｡ lola talks . . . I luv this !!! ty

── ʚ contacts . . . @chrepsi @ph3ebssturniolo @sturnsxbbyeilish @j21l91 @pip4444chris @mattslutt @sophand4n4 @mattscoquette @mi-co-uk @tezzzzzzzz @emely9274

⌗ © sturniphone

[badbihsemiluvr]

hi can you please make a jealous se-mi x fem! reader au like smut+some angst and fluff at the end for it like se-mi gets jealous when she sees reader talking or (whatever you prefer) with other girls but it’s just bcoz reader saw some random girl hitting on se-mi and se-mi didn’t right away turn off them so it ended up like se-mi showing that she only has eyes for reader with kinda rough s3x (but only if you’re comfortable with it!) no pressure at all and thanks in advance! your writing is saurr great!!!

jealousy is a drug 🚬 𖥔 ݁ ˖

semi (player 380) x fem reader

!! cw/tw !! 18+, dom semi x sub reader, flirting with other women, jealous + possessive semi, yelling/fighting, mentions of alcohol + cigarettes, car sex, rough sex, degrading, strap on usage (r! receiving), semi refers to her strap as her dick, semi calls the reader a slut often, reader crys during sex, oral (r! receiving), hickeys (giving + receiving), princess treatment once you get home <3

overview: your gf, semi has always been overprotective of you. especially when you talk to/have encounters with other women. but when she does it, it’s ok? jealousy is a two way street, so you decide to teach semi a lesson in jealousy during your night out at the club.

!! an !! hey guys this is a bit of a long one, so prepare urself. if u love toxic angsty smut this one’s for u. also!! this took me HOURS to write, because the entire smut portion got deleted after i spent 2 hours on it, i had a major crash out moment and got such bad writers block after that. anyways, regardless of that incident i feel like this is one of my best works yet, hopefully you guys enjoy it as much as i do! 🤞🏻

you and your girlfriend, semi, live very stressful lives. you guys are in severe debt so you live paycheck to paycheck. it’s rare the two of you have a night out to forget about all the worries of your world. but tonight, the two of you decided to go out to one of the craziest clubs in seoul, club pentagon.

you put on a white slip dress that looked angelic against your skin tone, and your favorite thigh high boots. semi’s glossy eyes were practically glued to your figure, she stared in awe.

“like what you see?” you say, a slight smirk forming on your lips. “mhmmm” semi hums, eyes still observing every inch of your body.

“isn’t that a little too scandalous to go out in?” semi says with a hint of protectiveness in her tone. “no i don’t think so, it’s a club everyone will be dressed like this.” you say with firmness in your voice, knowing you weren’t gonna change your outfit to make your girlfriend happy.

“let’s get going then.” semi said as she slides her hand behind your waist, leading you out the door. once you arrive to her car, she opens the door for you like the gentle man she is. she gets in the drivers seat shortly after.

semi cranks the engine, and turns on the radio. the two of you yap, and admire the beautiful sights of seoul as you make your way to the club. it’s quite a drive from your shared apartment.

finally, you arrive to the club. semi pulls in the parking lot and finds a spot. “you ready, love?” semi says. you nod with a gleam in your eye, ready to drink away all your problems. you and semi walk hand in hand to the line to enter the club. after what felt like forever waiting in the line, due to the club being the most popular in seoul, the bouncer lets the both of you in.

the second you and semi enter the club, she grabs your wrist, immediately leading you through the haze of neon flashing lights to the bar. she orders the both of you some shots of soju, to start the night off.

the bartender slides the glasses her way, and semi hands you two shots to take. you throw them back in unison, the burn of the alcohol lingered in your throat. you take a moment to look around, taking in the crazy environment of the club. there were girls throwing up in corners, people putting god knows what in their drinks, and a thick smoke filled the air.

you look semis way, and see a gorgeous tall brunette girl approaching her. you didn’t think much of her, until she started flirting with your girlfriend. she slid effortlessly onto the empty seat beside semi, and drunkenly muttered “well aren’t you something.”

semi let out a chuckle, brushing her fingers through her messy black hair. “is that supposed to be a good thing or a bad thing?” she says with a slight smirk on her lips. you felt a fire growing inside of you, how could she be so naive. this woman was clearly flirting with her, and she didn’t even turn her away. she was playing into it, and that made you pissed.

“I don’t know wanna find out?” the woman said, eyes black with lust. semi shook her head, with an amused look on her face. “well aren’t you bold?” semi says eyes wide. you roll your eyes at her comment, grabbing semis wrist pulling her back into reality. the reality that she was in a relationship, with you.

semi finally turned the woman down by saying, “sorry, i’m actually in a relationship.” signaling to you. the woman is slightly taken aback when she sees you with a cold look on your face, apologies quickly escape her lips. you brushed off the apology, not necessarily mad at the woman. but more so mad at semi, for leading her on. it made you wonder, does she do this often?

semi turned to you, seemingly unfazed by the encounter and unaware of how mad it really made you. she mutters “i’m gonna step out for a quick cigarette, that ok?” you roll your eyes, wondering if she was gonna go sneak out to hook up with the woman from earlier. it’s not like the club cared if people smoked inside.

as semi slipped away to smoke, you sat at the bar filled with anger and frustration. “can i get another round?” you uttered in a low tone to the bartender. he nodded and slipped you another round of shots. ?you downed the alcohol faster than you could think of all the possibilities of what your girlfriend could be doing.?

as the alcohol from earlier started to kick in, your angry demeanor loosens up. you think of a idea that surely will give semi a taste of her own medicine. a subtle smirk forms on your lips, knowing what you were about to do was slutty, but you didn’t give a fuck.

you get up from the bar, making your way to the dance floor. the air was heavy with with sweat, lust, and smoke. the loud bass of the music and people yelling were so loud you could barely think straight.

you spot a woman in the distance with short black curly hair, slightly covering her face, and a cold composure that reminded you a lot of semi. she looked like she was alone, and could use some company from a pretty girl like you.

you approached the woman, tapping on her shoulder. she turned back to face you, her eyes looking you up and down taking in the sight of your beauty.

“you looked lonely, wanna dance?” you say in a low tone, returning the stares she was giving you. she nods, agreeing to the offer. you grab her by the wrist and pull her closer to the door, making sure semi would see you guys when she came back. the woman shakes her head in confusion at your sudden actions.

she grabs your waist and you wrap your arms around her neck, the two of you start dancing. “you drag me across the club like a maniac, don’t i at least get the privilege of knowing your name?” she whispers in your ear as the two of you sway to the music. you smirk at her words, and mutter “it’s y/n, and why does that matter?” “because i needed a name to put with this pretty face.” the woman says as her rough, calloused hands grazed over your jawline, tucking some loose hairs behind your ear.

as the two of you dance and make meaningless conversation, semi comes back into the club after her smoke break outside. her eyes scan the club, looking for you, clearly no longer at the bar anymore. she finally spots you in the distance, dancing with the mystery woman.

semi couldn’t even form coherent thoughts when she sees the woman all over you, the way you were smiling at her, the hand placement. semi angrily walks over to the two of you. she grabs you tightly, instantly removing you from the woman.

“and who the fuck are you?” she shouts passionately at the woman. “uhh, i’m saebyeok? and who are you.” the woman says with confusion evident in her tone. “i’m your worst nightmare. get the fuck away from my girlfriend” semi curses at her, dragging you outside of the club by the wrists like a kid that’s about to get scolded.

“what the fuck was that about?” she yells at you, her voice filled with intense anger. “just a friend, i was dancing with to pass the time while i waited on my girlfriend to finish doing god know what.” you say, your voice shaky. hearing your words, semi gets more heated.

“excuse me? i told you i needed a smoke, what the hell else did you think i was doing?” she mutters slowly backing you up to a nearby wall. you felt an ounce of fear take over, you’ve never seen semi THIS jealous to the point of physical anger.

tears slowly escape your eyes, smudging your eyeliner as semi continues to yell at you. people on the streets were looking at the encounter as you just stood there and took it, scared of what semi might do next. you knew she would never get physical with you, but with the alcohol in her system, that might change things.

semi noticed the stares, and didn’t want the police called for causing such a disturbance. she grabbed you and whispered “we’ll continue this conversation in the car.” with an annoyed look plastered on her face, acting like the people staring were interrupting something.

you and semi head back to the car, not speaking at all, but a heavy unspoken anger filled the air. the second you got to the car semi unlocked it, this time not opening the door for you. she scoffs and gets in the drivers seat.

the second the two of you are both in the car, the insults continue “you are such a slut, y/n? you know that. i step out for one second and your already over there with a new bitch.” semi practically barks in your face.

you finally snap at the way she’s treating you, practically sobbing you say “why do you think i did it, semi? i don’t have any fucking interest in that saebyeok. i did it to make you jealous.” semi’s demeanor slightly changes when she hears your muffled words. “what? why would you wanna make me jealous?” she says with confusion in her voice, acting naive like she didn’t know what she did to you.

“oh my god semi, don’t be fucking stupid. that woman from the bar earlier, she clearly wanted you and you were feeding into it.” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. when you say that, semis eyes soften. “baby, i had no clue you felt that way about that little encounter. i truly thought it was a meaningless interaction with a drunk girl. i mean i was laughing the whole conversation.” semi says, her demeanor switching from mad to understanding.

“well, it really did hurt me. it made me feel ignored, and worthless. especially when you had to leave the second after talking to that woman.” semis hand locks with yours, the other brushing the loose hairs behind you ears. she gently says “baby, i will always be yours. no other woman could compare to you. and i wouldn’t risk my future with you for some with some stupid drunk whore.” she laughs, eyes glazing over your body.

the heavy breathing and tears stop, as semi comforts you. her fingers ghost over your thigh, and she places a light peck on your lips. “i love you so much, princess.” she whispers, her face inches from yours.

you pull her in for a more passionate kiss, the sympathy in the air quickly turning to lust. semi pulls away from the kiss and whispers in your ear “how about i show you who you really belong to?” you nod, biting your lip. semi signals you to move to the backseat. you immediately crawl to the back, sprawling your body across the seat already needy for your girlfriends touch.

out of the corner of your eye you catch semi shuffling through the passenger seat console. your mind wonders what she could be looking for in this moment. semi finally pulls her 8 inch black strap out of the console, a devilish smirk forming on her lips and she crawls to the backseat to join you.

“you just casually keep a strap in your console?” you laugh. “well you never know, especially with a whore like you.” she utters, while throwing her shirt and pants off. she throws the strap on the floor board, wasting no time to get your clothes off.

“hands up.” semi says pulling your dress over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties. semis eyes glaze over the sight of your nearly naked body, only the lacy fabric of your lingerie covering you. she fiddles with your bra straps and says “you wore this for me, huh?” you nod your head at her words, knowing it was true. you loved dressing pretty for semi.

“well you know just what i like, such a pretty girl.” semi says as her long fingers ghost over your body. semi pushes you back down, hovering on top of you, she leaves you feeling trapped due to the size difference.

semi loved the authority she had over you in this moment. her lips make their way to your neck, sucking the sensitive skin. light moans escape your mouth as semi leaves her mark. you feel her teeth every now and then bite the skin on your neck, making you squirm.

you feel semi smirk against your skin as her marks trail down your neck. she pulls away for a moment and you ask if you can mark her up. semi says “of course baby, i want everyone to know exactly what we did in this car.”

your soft, pink lips wrap around semis neck. she lets out low grunts as you suck on her sensitive skin. semis hand trail over all your curves as you mark her up. when your done you pull away, letting semi take control again. “good girl.” semi mutters, making you feel butterflies in your stomach. it was rare semi praised you during sex.

semi wastes no time, unclasping your pretty lace bra with one hand, sliding off your thong or with the other. which by the way, was completely soaked and ruined. she threw your undergarments to the floor board, shortly after taking hers off and sliding the strap onto her waist.

semis dark glossy eyes scan over your body in complete lust as she hovers over you. “i wanna fuck you in missionary, so i can see your tits bounce up and down.” semi says in a raspy low tone. semi positions her strap in between your thighs, her tip teasing your already soaked entrance.

she slowly sinks her strap into you, letting your tight pussy adjust to the size of her big cock. you let out a yelp, due to the suddenness of her entering you. “god, your so tight, you’d think a slut like you would already be stretched out by now.” she mutters as she slowly starts thrusting her cock in and out of you.

her pace is slow and passionate, which shortly would turn into the complete opposite, rough and merciless. a string of moans and curses escape your lips as her speed starts to increase. you want to feel her dick, in every inch, every crevice of your body. you didn’t care how sore you would be the following day, she could put you in a wheelchair and you would thank her.

semi grabs your boobs, and started playing with them as she slammed her cock in and out of your squelching pussy. “mmmm” semi hummed, loving the sight of your boobs bouncing up and down with every thrust. you loved how rough she was with you, you didn’t care if it hurt, you just wanted to feel her, deep inside of you.

your practically screaming in pleasure as semi speeds up her thrusts by the minute, you are a complete mess for her. lewd sounds of your pussy being destroyed and your desperate moans fill the car. semi puts a tight grasp on your waist to create a rhythm with her thrusts. “stop squirming, god why are you so sensitive.” semi says as she cocks her head to the side. you throw your head back in pleasure, and your back arches as her rhythm is hitting you in just the spot you need her most.

your breath hitches, tears can’t help but escape your eyes from the feeling of semis rough pounding into your cervix, repeatedly hitting your spot. semi notices your crying and says sarcastically “that’s what good dick does to a slut like you.” well, what she didn’t know that the tears were a mix of intense pleasure and pain. your eyes roll back into your head at her sarcastic comment, god she’s so hot.

sweat causes semis hair to stick to her forehead as she’s fucking you, mercilessly. she can’t take her eyes off of your boobs and the pretty faces your making, every inch of your body being explored by her.

you feel your body getting weaker at her mercy. semi’s dick was hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. you were in complete ecstasy. your a moaning mess, that can barely form coherent sentences, you manage to get out a weak “i-im getting close, semi, don’t stop.” “already? god that’s pathetic.” semi mutters. her pace slows down, and speeds back up leaving you on edge.

you were practially in heat. your jaw hanging open in bliss at the feeling of semis dick deep inside of you, fucking you dumb. you couldn’t manage to get out any words besides loud cries of pleasure. you feel your body tremble, your walls start to clench around semis cock. you arch your back in complete bliss as semi smacks your ass, leaving a slight sting. your vision goes fuzzy and you throw your head back, you scream as you release all over semis cock. she continued thrusting throughout your orgasm to make it last longer. she pulls out and your juices coat her plastic cock.

“suck it.” semi demands you, like your some kind of dog or something. but you obey, you wrap your big pouty lips around her cock. semi pushes your head down, practically making you choke on her dick. not missing a single drop of your cum.

once you’ve sucked her dry, you lay on the sweaty car seat exhausted and absolutely fucked out. feeling lifeless, you look over at semi sat on the seat beside you, her messy black hair sticking to her face, catching her breath after fucking the living shit out of you.

you get up to grab your clothes, and semi grabs your wrist tightly. “we’re not done here, understand me?” she says demandingly, you nod and sit back on the car seat. semi slides the strap off of her waist and throws it in the front seat. she crawls to the front to push the seat forward, providing us with more room. you wonder what she has planned next to do to you.

semi gets on her knees, positioning herself in front of your closed legs. “you really thought we were done here, i haven’t even had my dessert.” semi says a slight smirk playing on her lips, signaling you to spread you legs. you throw your legs over semi, your knees resting on her shoulders. her face inches from your pussy, you can feel hear breath.

“so pretty baby, all mine.” she says as her fingers tease your already wet folds. you are a needy mess for her, all this teasing has you feeling like an absolute whore. after what felt like forever, semis lips attached to your cunt. you let out a loud moan, and throw your head back at the sensation of her cold lip piercing against your pussy.

semi’s tounge began to move at unimaginable speeds, eating you out like she’s an animal. you moan out semis name, barely able to think straight. at this point, the car windows are foggy, lewd sounds of your pussy being ate, curses and moans fill the air.

semi hums “mhmmm.” into your pussy as her tounge motions continue. you feel vibration pulse throughout your body as semi lets out little hums now and again. you are trembling, barely able to keep your legs open “s-semi, baby i’m getting close.” you moan lightly, tilting your head back from the intense pleasure of semis tounge swirling against your clit.

semi didn’t even realize you said anything, she was completely pussy drunk, with her head buried in between your now closing thighs. her strong hands grasping them open. she was eating you out like it was her last meal.

semi pulls away for a second and says “don’t look at the ceiling, look at me. i wanna see your pretty face when i make your cum.” she wasn’t even eating you out anymore yet just her words formed a giant knot in your stomach. she pressed her lips back against your soaked cunt, and picked up where she left off.

her motions slowing down and speeding up, helping you reach your climax. your eyes locked onto hers as you grabbed her hair, trying to resist the urge to tilt your head back. your body can’t stop shaking and loud moans escape your lips.

semi hummed against your pussy, and before you knew it the knot in your stomach broke. you cry out loudly, releasing all over semis face. she licks your fluids off of her lips, and wipes some of the cum off her face onto her fingers. “open up.” she says placing her fingers in your mouth. your eyes widen as you suck your release off of semis slender fingers.

semi places a kiss on your lips afterward, tasting the juices your lips were coated with “your mine, every inch of you. no one will ever fuck you as good as me.” semi says. you let out a light chuckle agreeing with semi as she gently helps you put your clothes back on.

shortly after, she puts her own clothes back on, adjusting herself before crawling into the drivers seat. you follow, crawling into the passenger seat. semi starts the car looks over at you and says “i think we should just go home baby, nothing in that club is more exciting than what we just did.”

you nod in agreement, saying “yea, i’m absolutely exhausted, i wouldn’t mind another night in.” semis face lights up by the light of her phone typing in your apartment address on the navigation app. semi shoots you a soft smile before pulling out of the club parking lot, heading home.

semi places her hand gently on your thigh. you stare out the window, as the radio hums lightly on the lowest volume notch. the two of you are silent the entire car ride, but a comforting warmth fills the air. even though the two of you aren’t physically saying it, you feel very loved in this moment. it’s the little gestures like this that matter, so much.

semi pulls the car into the parking lot of the apartment complex, she gets out of the car and makes her way over to the passenger side. she opens the door for you and picks you up bridal style, you laugh at the sudden gesture. but deep down you found it cute.

once the two of you arrive at your apartment, semi shuffles through her pockets for the keys. at this point, she’s holding you with one hand. you wrap your arms around her neck for extra support, so you don’t go falling flat to the floor. but somehow she manages to hold you in one hand and the other rummaging for the keys.

you wonder how she does that, she’s so strong. finally, semi finds the key, she jiggles it into the lock. she takes you inside, straight to the bedroom. semi places you on the gently on the bed, like you were the most delicate thing in the world.

she places a sweet kiss on your forehead, admiring your flushed face. semi whispers in your ear “how about we get you all cleaned up.” you agree, feeling gross from the club and sex with semi, a bath is just what you needed.

semi swiftly exited the room to start the bath for the both of you. you wait patiently on the bed, slightly tipsy and exhausted. you see semi walking back into the bedroom with a pack of makeup wipes. she says “let’s take this pretty makeup off baby, before we get in the bath.”

semi’s body slightly hovers over yours, gently rubbing the makeup wipe over your smudged eyeliner and mascara. “all done” she utters as she places a soft kiss on your lips. “your even prettier without makeup.” she says. you feel your cheeks glow red at her words.

semi picks your weak body up bridal style, taking you to the bathroom. once you arrive, semi sits you down on the counter, slowly taking off your dress and undergarments. she then lightly places you in the bath, and starts stripping herself.

after semi takes her clothes off, she gets in the bath with you. the two of you sit in the bath in a comforting silence, the only light in the room provided by a singular candle. “do you want me to help clean you up, baby?” semi offers. “yes i would love that.” you say, letting semi know your gratitude for her caring act.

semi takes the shampoo bottle sitting on the side of the tub, and squeezes some out into her rough hands. she then starts massaging the shampoo through your beautiful hair. the feeling of semis long fingers massaging your scalp sent you into an instant relaxation.

you were so thankful for semi taking care of you. even though she showed no mercy on you in the bedroom, she really does treat you like a princess and would do anything for you.

“relaxed, baby?” semi chuckles, noticing your state of bliss as she massaged her fingers into your scalp. “yea haha, your hands are magic.” you softly exclaim. a smile forms on semis lips. she grabs the small pink cup on the side of the tub, and dips it into the water, pouring it into your hair.

once semi has washed all the shampoo out of your hair, she washes her own hair. you sit and relax staring at semi as she washes up. the light glow of the candle, lit up her face. she was so beautiful, even doing the most simple things she was just otherworldly.

once semi finished up, she grabbed the nearby loofah and put some of your vanilla scented body wash on it. she moved your wet hair out of the way, and started washing you up. not making you lift a finger, semi washes your entire body. now and then she would ask you to turn around or sit up. you silently let semi clean you and when she’s done you thank her with a short, but loving peck.

semi washes herself off after. you admire the way her body looked as the soap bubbles covered it, her soft fair skin looked beautiful. semi finished washing herself off and gets up out of the bath. she then grabbed you out of the bath, your naked bodies pressed against each other. she sets you down, and wraps a big fluffy towel around your wet body. “you smell so good.” she mutters softly.

you smile at her sweet remark as the two of you walk to your bedroom. you shuffle through the drawers and ask semi if you can wear one of her oversized t-shirts. “of course baby, you’ll look so cute in it.” semi says. you put on some underwear and semis t-shirt and immediately crawl into bed as semi gets herself dressed.

you stare at your girlfriend as she puts on her grey sweatpants and black t-shirt, such a simple outfit yet she made it look so sexy. you can’t help yourself but stare. she looked in the mirror, brushing her wet messy back beside out of her face.

she noticed your reflection staring at her in the mirror, she didn’t say anything but it warmed her heart. she shortly joined you in bed, wrapping her big arms around you. she placed a gentle peck on your forehead saying “feel better baby? i could tell you needed some time to relax, after the night we’ve had.” you nod and exclaim “yea semi, that was much needed. thank you for pampering me.”

semis cheeks light up crimson red at your words. spoiling and taking care of you just came so naturally to her, but she appreciates it even more knowing it makes you feel loved. “i’m glad, i think we both needed it.” she exclaimed softly.

you feel yourself slowly drifting off, from the extremely emotionally exhausting day. you feel so safe in semis arms. as your nearly asleep, you feel semis hand brushing through your hair, making you open your eyes. “i really love you, y/n you know that.” semi says with pure love and adoration in her voice.

butterflies fly around in your stomach at her words, she said i love you a lot but those 3 words made you feel so secure. “i love you too, semi. and ill never love anyone else.” you say as semi places a soft but passionate kiss on your lips. “good, cause i almost beat a bitch up tonight.” semi chuckles sarcastically. you smile into semis arms, drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

semi’s fingers ghost over your lower back, tracing lazy circles as you sleep peacefully in her arms. she knows deep down in her heart, she wants every night to be as sweet as tonight, forever. . . ♡

TYSM FOR READING I REALLY PUT MY HEART AND SOUL INTO THIS!! MORE FICS COMING SOON :p

[otakudragones]

Hawks (Keigo Takami)

Headcanons

He teases you constantly, but not in a mean way—more like the flirty, smug way that makes your stomach flip.

"You blushing again? Man, I should start charging rent for living in your head like this."

He's the type to grab you mid-sentence just to kiss you. No warning. He smirks after like he didn’t just ruin your train of thought on purpose.

Loves to drape a wing around you when you're out in public. It's possessive, protective, and hot all at once.

Absolutely uses his feathers to do things for you, bringing you your phone, coffee, snacks. If you're laying on the couch, he's feeding you chips like a lazy bird boyfriend.

Calls you “babe,” “birdie,” “short stack” (if you’re shorter than him), or just “my favorite distraction.”

He always pretends to be chill, but if anyone flirts with you—even a little—he gets real close, wraps a wing around you and gives the fakest polite smile ever.

Is super observant. He notices when you're sad, tired, or faking a smile. He doesn’t push you to talk but will sit next to you and gently touch your hand until you're ready.

He lives for cuddles but acts like he's doing you a favor. “I guess I could let you cuddle me for a bit. I’m feeling generous today.”

Sometimes flies you places just because he wants to see your hair in the wind and hear you squeal when he drops a little mid-air.

Late-night snacks? He’s already on UberEats or flying out to grab what you’re craving. Wings are fast delivery, baby.

Always flirts. Even after you're dating, even when you’ve been together forever. He keeps it spicy.

“You could be wearing a trash bag and I’d still think you're the hottest thing in the room.”

But when you fall asleep on him, all his sass goes quiet. He holds you like you’re made of glass, presses his nose into your hair, and murmurs little things like “I got you, I got you.”

He jokes about being a mess, but he loves you with a calm. Like he’d burn the world down for you, but still bring you soup when you’re sick.

Imagine

You're curled up on the couch, still half-asleep, blanket up to your nose. Hawks lands lightly on the balcony, kicks off his boots, and struts in like he owns the place. His wings ruffle as he grins, spotting you in your cocoon.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he smirks, already walking over. "You miss me, or are you just pretending so I’ll cuddle you?"

You open one eye and yawn, but before you can answer, he’s already on the couch, one wing wrapped around you, his fingers tilting your chin up.

"Knew it," he murmurs against your lips, smug and warm and soft all at once. "You missed me."

You don’t say anything, but your hand finds his shirt and tugs him closer.

That’s answer enough.

Traducción

Headcanons

Te molesta todo el tiempo, pero no de forma pesada—es ese tipo de burla coqueta, con sonrisa ladeada, que te revuelve el estómago.

“¿Otra vez sonrojada? Hombre, voy a tener que empezar a cobrar renta por vivir en tu cabeza así.”

Es de los que te besan a media frase. Sin avisar. Y luego se ríe como si no acabara de borrar todos tus pensamientos a propósito.

Le encanta ponerte un ala encima cuando están en público. Es posesivo, protector y sexy al mismo tiempo.

Usa sus plumas para hacer cosas por ti, traerte el cel, el café, un snack. Si estás acostada en el sillón, te da papitas en la boca como un novio pájaro flojo.

Te llama “babe”, “pajarita”, “chaparra” (si eres más bajita que él), o simplemente “mi distracción favorita.”

Siempre finge estar relajado, pero si alguien coquetea contigo—aunque sea tantito—se te pega, te envuelve con un ala y pone su mejor sonrisa falsa.

Es muy observador. Nota cuando estás triste, cansada o fingiendo la sonrisa. No te presiona a hablar, solo se sienta junto a ti y te toca suavemente la mano hasta que estés lista.

Vive para acurrucarse, pero actúa como si te estuviera haciendo un favor. “Supongo que puedo dejar que me abraces un rato. Hoy ando generoso.”

A veces te lleva volando solo porque quiere verte el cabello al viento o escucharte gritar cuando baja de golpe.

¿Antojos a medianoche? Ya está en UberEats o volando por lo que se te antoje. Alas = entrega exprés, nena.

Siempre te coquetea. Aunque ya sean novios, aunque lleven años. Él mantiene viva la chispa.

“Podrías traer puesto un costal de papas y seguirías siendo lo más sexy del lugar.”

Pero cuando te duermes sobre él, toda su picardía desaparece. Te sostiene con un cuidado inmenso, te huele el cabello y murmura: “Aquí estoy, te tengo.”

Bromea con ser un desastre, pero te ama con una intensidad. Como si pudiera incendiar el mundo por ti, pero también te traería sopita cuando estás enferma.

Imagine

Estás acurrucada en el sillón, medio dormida, tapada hasta la nariz. Hawks aterriza suave en el balcón, se quita las botas y entra caminando con ese aire de "esta casa es mía". Sus alas se sacuden y sonríe al verte en tu capullito.

“Hola, dormilona,” se burla, ya acercándose. “¿Me extrañaste o solo finges para que te abrace?”

Abres un ojo, bostezas, pero antes de contestar, él ya está en el sillón, una ala sobre ti, sus dedos levantándote la barbilla.

“Lo sabía,” murmura contra tus labios, entre travieso y tierno. “Me extrañaste.”

No dices nada, pero jalas su camisa para acercarlo.

Esa es suficiente respuesta.

[mavlabajuri]

What is Beskar? - A Breakdown

Beskar, also called Mandalorian iron, is a rare metal found only on Mandalore and its moon, Concordia. For Mandalorians, it's not just valued for its strength. Beskar is considered sacred, a holy material bound to identity, ancestry, and creed. The act of forging it is not merely a craft but a rite, performed by Mandalorian Armorers to bond warriors to their people through armor. Beskar is more than a metal: it represents resilience, heritage, culture, and soul.

Physical & Chemical Traits

Heat Resistance

What we know: Beskar can take direct hits from blasters and withstand lightsaber strikes without melting or deforming.

What that implies: It likely has an extraordinarily high melting point, higher even than tungsten (~3400°C). This places beskar among exotic, refractory metals or even unique energy-stabilized alloys. Canon also shows beskar resisting thermal shock (e.g., explosions) without shattering or fragmenting.

Durability & Toughness

“It’s beskar. It doesn’t dent.” - Medrit Vasur

What we know: It’s practically indestructible. Armor made of beskar resists slashes, blasterfire, lightsabers, crushing blows, and kinetic impacts. Even micronized forms can shatter bone.

What that implies: Beskar has immense toughness and impact dispersion. It doesn’t deflect energy like a shield; it spreads the impact across its surface. Think of it as a hybrid between metallic glass, Kevlar, and high-energy damping alloys. It doesn’t break, but the force still transfers to the wearer.

Malleability

“Mandalorians jealously guard their beskar-working skills and refuse to sell the formulas for any price.” - Imperial commentary on Mandalorian forging

What we know: Mandalorian smiths shape beskar into armor plates, wire, mesh, transparent film, foam, and even micronized particles.

What that implies: Beskar is incredibly workable when properly forged. Canon describes repeated folding (like Damascus steel), suggesting that its structural strength is enhanced through expert lamination and layering, a craft only mastered by Mandalorians.

Density & Weight

“Jaina examined her beskad; a blade forty-five centimeters long, maybe five or six centimeters wide, with a single cutting edge curving to a point—and much heavier than it looked, perhaps more than two kilos.” — Legacy of the Force: Invincible

What we know: “Full-density beskar” is heavier; alloyed forms with carbon or other materials are lighter but less durable.

What that implies: Pure beskar is likely denser than steel, possibly approaching the density of uranium or osmium. Alloying reduces weight and slightly lowers protective capacity. Export variants (like downgraded starships) use lighter, less refined beskar composites.

Corrosion Resistance

What we know: Beskar doesn’t tarnish, rust, or degrade over time, there’s no mention of upkeep for oxidation or weathering, even after centuries of use.

What that implies: It’s likely extremely corrosion-resistant, maybe through a naturally passivating surface layer (like titanium or stainless steel). That’s important for armor that’s expected to last generations, even in combat, salt air, or deep space.

Sound Signature

“Beskar had a sound like no other metal, all heavy dull solidity, no high tinny frequencies like durasteel when hit.” - Republic Commando: True Colors

What we know: When struck, beskar gives off a heavy, dull sound, different from the “tinny” sound of durasteel.

What that implies: This suggests high mass and excellent vibration damping. Materials that sound dull when struck often have lower resonance and greater ability to absorb kinetic energy, another point in favor of beskar spreading out impact forces instead of rebounding them.

Alloying Elements

“Anyway, this is top-grade beskar—full density, two percent ciridium, no fancy lamination or carbon-alloy.” - Kal Skirata

Known additives:

Ciridium (2%): A canon example from Skirata’s armor; Possibly a heat stabilizer or strengthener, unique to the gffa.

Carbon: Might lighten the material, increase flexibility, or improve strength (like real-word carbon steel).

The Shapes of Beskar

Plates - Ship hulls, traditional Mandalorian armor (beskar’gam)

Laminates - Layered armor, combining flexibility and protection

Wire/Mesh - Lightweight undersuits or integrated systems

Beskar-impregnated fabric - Beskar armorweave

Foam - Padding that still retains durability

Micronized particles - Used in crushgaunts

Transparent film - Rare; possibly used for HUDs or specialized optics

What’s in a Color?

"Armor colors and markings can indicate many things, from the clan or family to more ephemeral concepts such as state of mind or a particular mission." - Karen Traviss

Mandalorians don't just wear armor, they live in it. Beskar’gam is handed down, reforged, or remade, and each new generation adds their own mark. Painting one's armor is a declaration of individuality, experience, and lineage.

Cultural Significance

Declaration of identity: Some Mandalorian clans use distinct colors and markings to signify allegiance or heritage, including clan symbols or cultural symbols.

History and Feats: In some traditions, marks of honor, like jaig eyes, were painted on helmets to signify acts of bravery​.

Expression and accomplishments: Sabine Wren, regularly painted and repainted her 500-year-old armor as both personal expression and symbolic evolution through her life’s stages and affiliations​.

For Mandalorians, armor isn’t just armor, it’s a second skin. It's a visible oath to one of the six tenets of the Resol’nare: wearing beskar'gam. Choosing to paint one’s armor (or not to) says something.

Practical purposes: protection, camouflage, and preservation

While beskar is incredibly durable, painting it serves practical roles too, especially for older, heirloom and alloyed armor:

Corrosion control

Durasteel components, often used in place of beskar or to supplement it, can be vulnerable to environmental wear. Paint protects these surfaces from oxidation and corrosion, especially on long campaigns or in hostile conditions.

Camouflage & visibility

Mandalorians often operate in diverse terrain, paint lets them both blend in or intentionally stand out.

For stealth missions or ambushes, darker or terrain-matching colors can make a life-or-death difference.

Battle damage

A warrior's beskar'gam can take a hit, but it remembers every blow. Paint can mask surface damage, hide vulnerabilities, or maybe even accentuate past battlescars.

“The battles, the history, the blood all live within it. And the same goes for every Mandalorian.” - Sabine Wren

Painting Mandalorian armor isn’t merely cosmetic, it’s an ambulatory cultural mural, a testimony of paint and pigment. Every color, symbol, and stroke tells a story, and in true Mando fashion, it’s often one they’re not afraid to let you see coming.

K'oyacyi! // Mavla

If you have any comments, feedback, corrections or speculations, they are as always warmly welcomed!

[jianwon]

i ADORE your most recent fanfic (touch ups and downs) your writing is rlly cool and i was wondering if maybe we could get a part 2!?! where they go on a date and se-mi is still being flirty/teasing as per usual and maaaaybee...they kiss. hehe. i love your writing btw, but pls dont feel pressured to fulfill my request!!! 💗💗

A SOFTER SPOTLIGHT — player 380

sypnosis. a makeup artist’s quiet life takes an unexpected turn when actress se-mi slips them her number. between secret outings, stolen moments, and the challenges of se-mi’s fame, their connection grows into something neither of them can ignore.

part 1 part 3

content—actress!se-mi x fem!makeupartist!reader. pure fluff. flirting and romantic tension. brief mention of public harassment. mild language. slight emotional vulnerability. mentions of squid game characters.

disclaimer. story is entirely fictional and in no way reflects real events, individuals, or their relationships. characters mentioned are fictional representations based on their on-screen personas.

wordcount. 1.9k

since the day se-mi slipped her number into your hand, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. it wasn’t just the way she effortlessly flirted, or the way her perfume lingered like a gentle reminder of her presence, it was the way she made you feel seen.

you hadn’t reached out yet, overthinking every possible way the conversation might go. would she even remember giving you her number? what if she was just being polite? or teasing?

you debated for days, pacing your tiny apartment as her folded note sat on your kitchen counter, taunting you.

then, one evening, your phone buzzed with an unknown number.

unknown number: you weren’t planning on calling me, were you... artist-nim?

you stared at the message, your heart racing. how did she..? oh. of course, she had your number from the crew information list.

you: i didn’t want to bother you.

se-mi: bother? i think you misunderstand. i was hoping you’d ask me out (īī ^ īī)

the boldness of her words hit you like a lightning bolt, and before you could spiral into overthinking, another message popped up.

se-mi: how about we fix that? are you free tomorrow afternoon?

you froze. tomorrow afternoon? what would you wear? what would you say?

you: i guess i could be free.

se-mi: great! but we’ll need to be careful, meet me at cafe haneul at 3. wear something comfortable and discreet ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

you didn’t sleep much that night.

the next day, you arrived at cafe haneul early, nervously fiddling with your phone. the cozy little café was tucked into a quieter street in seoul, its warm glow spilling onto the cobblestone sidewalk. you wore an oversized hoodie and a baseball cap, hoping it was “discreet” enough.

when se-mi arrived, you almost didn’t recognize her. she was wearing a hoodie too, paired with round glasses and a black face mask that covered half her face. even so, she still looked effortlessly stunning, her presence impossible to ignore.

“artist-nim!” she greeted, pulling down her mask slightly to reveal a playful grin. “se-mi,” you replied, trying not to sound as nervous as you felt.

she tilted her head, studying you. “cute. you really took the ‘discreet’ note to heart.”

you laughed awkwardly, and she grabbed your wrist gently. “come on. let’s walk.”

the streets were bustling, even in the quieter part of the city. se-mi kept close, her hand brushing yours every so often as you weaved through the crowd. the conversation flowed easily. she talked about the projects she was excited about, and you shared funny backstage stories from your work.

but as the sidewalk grew more crowded, you started to feel the press of bodies around you. someone accidentally bumped into your shoulder, and then another person pushed past, making you stumble slightly.

se-mi noticed immediately. without a word, she reached out and grabbed your hand, pulling you closer to her side. “stay here,” she said softly, her tone protective.

her hand was warm, her grip firm but gentle. you felt your cheeks heat up, but you didn’t pull away. instead, you let her guide you through the crowd, her presence grounding you amidst the chaos.

when the street finally opened up, she looked down at you, a small smile playing on her lips. “you okay?”

“yeah..” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“good.” she replied, her thumb brushing over your knuckles.

the moment felt so natural that you almost didn’t realize she hadn’t let go until she grinned and said, “don’t tell me you’re blushing already.”

“i’m not!” you protested, though the heat in your cheeks said otherwise. she chuckled, tugging you along. “come on. there’s somewhere i want to take you.”

the museum was quiet, its grand halls filled with soft lighting and the faint echo of footsteps. you hadn’t expected se-mi to bring you somewhere so peaceful, but as soon as you stepped inside, you understood why.

“i like coming here when i need to clear my head,” she explained as you wandered through an exhibit of impressionist paintings. “there’s just something calming about it.”

you watched as her gaze lingered on a large canvas depicting a serene landscape. the way her face softened, her usual confident demeanor giving way to something more vulnerable, made your chest ache in the best way.

“do you paint?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

she shook her head. “no, but i wish i did. i’ve always admired how artists can put so much emotion into a single canvas”

you smiled, gesturing to the painting in front of you. “kind of like how you do with acting.”

her eyes widened slightly, and she turned to you with a surprised smile. “that’s… probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“well, it’s true,” you replied, suddenly feeling shy under her gaze. she stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “you’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

before you could respond, she tugged you toward another room, this one filled with smaller, more abstract pieces. you wandered through the space together, occasionally stopping to admire a painting or share quiet observations. at one point, you caught her watching you instead of the art, her expression unreadable.

“what?” you asked, self-conscious under her stare.

“nothing.” she said, smiling softly. “i just like seeing you like this. you’re so… relaxed.”

you didn’t know how to respond, so you simply smiled back, your heart pounding.

after leaving the museum, you and se-mi wandered into a bustling food street. the two of you shared tteokbokki and small plates of jeon at a cozy food stall, the spicy warmth of the dishes cutting through the evening chill. se-mi kept her hoodie pulled low and her mask in place, glancing around every now and then to make sure no one was paying too much attention.

you couldn’t help but laugh as she struggled with her chopsticks, one slippery rice cake flying out of her grasp and landing on her plate with a small splatter. “a world-famous actress, but chopsticks are your weakness?”

she gave you a mock glare, her eyes narrowing playfully. “you try eating with these things out in the cold and tell me how it goes.”

smirking, you picked up one of the rice cakes with ease, holding it out toward her. “here. let me save you the embarrassment.”

she hesitated for a moment, then leaned forward, taking the bite and chewing with exaggerated slowness. “not bad...” she said once she swallowed. “guess i’ll keep you around.”

it was an easy moment, the two of you lost in your own world, until someone walking past slowed to a stop right in front of your table.

“wait… is that—?”

your heart dropped as you saw the man’s eyes narrow in recognition. he looked to be in his early twenties, dressed casually but holding his phone in a way that made your stomach tighten.

se-mi tensed beside you, her hand instinctively reaching for her mask to pull it higher.

“no way,” the man said, stepping closer. “you’re se-mi, aren’t you? from that movie?”

“i think you’ve got the wrong person,” you said quickly, standing up to block his view of her. “she’s not an actress.” the man’s eyes darted between you and se-mi, skepticism written all over his face.

“no, i’m pretty sure that’s her. i’ve watched the show, like, three times. that’s definitely her!”

se-mi looked down, trying to keep her face hidden as she mumbled, “i’m sorry, i think you’re mistaken.” her voice was calm, but you could sense the tension in her posture.

“come on, you don’t have to pretend,” the man insisted, pulling out his phone. “just one picture, please! my friends will never believe i ran into you.”

“no pictures,” you said firmly, your voice shaking slightly. “please respect her privacy.” the man frowned, his phone still in hand. “if it’s not her, then what’s the big deal? why are you acting so weird?”

the crowd around the stall was starting to take notice, a few people pausing mid-bite to glance over. your pulse quickened as you realized how easily this could spiral out of control.

“let’s go,” you whispered to se-mi, gently tugging her sleeve.

she nodded and stood, keeping her head down as the two of you tried to leave the stall. but the man wasn’t giving up so easily.

“hey, wait!” he called, stepping after you. “at least tell me if it’s really you—”

that���s when se-mi turned around, her voice steady but firm. “i’m sorry, but i’d really appreciate it if you left us alone.”

her tone was polite, but there was a quiet strength behind it that seemed to catch the man off guard. he hesitated, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for a response. finally, he muttered something under his breath and walked off, still holding his phone but no longer pointing it at you.

as soon as he was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “that was… intense.”

“i’m sorry...” se-mi said softly, her voice laced with guilt.

“don’t apologize,” you said immediately. “it’s not your fault. are you okay?” she nodded, though her hands were trembling slightly. without thinking, you reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently.

“let’s get out of here,” you said, your voice soft but reassuring.

the two of you walked quickly through the streets, sticking to quieter alleys until you were far away from the bustling crowd. when you finally stopped, you were standing in a small, empty park, the glow of streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement.

“i didn’t mean to ruin the night.” se-mi said after a moment, her gaze fixed on the ground.

“ruin it?” you repeated, stepping closer to her. “se-mi, you didn’t ruin anything.” she looked up at you, her eyes searching yours. “it’s just… stuff like that happens all the time. and i hate dragging other people into it.”

“you didn’t drag me into anything,” you said firmly. “i wanted to be here. with you.”

her expression softened, and for a moment, the tension in her shoulders seemed to melt away. “you really mean that?”

“of course,” you said, giving her hand another gentle squeeze. “besides, i think we make a pretty good team. i distract the fans, and you handle the dramatic exits.” she laughed at that, the sound light and melodic in the quiet night. “i guess i owe you one, artist-nim.”

“i’ll add it to your tab,” you teased, grinning.

for a moment, neither of you said anything. the air between you felt heavy with unspoken words, and when she finally broke the silence, her voice was quiet but steady.

“being recognized is part of the job,” she said. “but… it’s nice to have someone who doesn’t see me as just ‘se-mi the actress.’”

you looked at her, your heart aching at the vulnerability in her words. “you’re more than that,” you said softly. “at least to me.”

she turned to you, her eyes searching yours. then, without warning, she reached up and pulled her mask down, her face inches from yours. “i know.” she whispered.

before you could respond, she leaned in and kissed you. it was soft, tentative, but it sent a spark through your entire body. when she pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, and she looked almost shy. “i hope that wasn’t too forward...” she murmured.

you shook your head, a dazed smile spreading across your face. “not at all.”

she grinned, her confidence returning as she took your hand again. “good. because i plan on doing that again.”

and as the city buzzed around you, the world felt like it had shrunk to just the two of you. a quiet, perfect moment in the chaos of life.

a/n— a big thank you to anon for the request! please do let me know if you'd like actress se-mi x makeup artist reader to be a series! do request some scenarios that you'd like to see both of them in hehe + is it just me, or do i hc se-mi as an emoticon user rather than using emojis hmm

[underoossss]

the only one I trust

miguel o’hara x fem!reader | 1.5k | fluff | no y/n

❥❥❥❥❥❥

Saturday sunshine enters through the window. It sneaks between a gap in the curtains and ends up shining on your face. A single ray of light hits your left eye as you sleep, and the warm feeling and brightness slowly stirs you awake. You scan your surroundings as sleep begins to leave your body. The large glass windows partially covered by the curtains, the Alocasia plant next to them and the dark brown nightstand framing the right side of the bed.

It's all familiar and comforting to you, a place you’ve called your own for a while now, and that’s welcomed you every day since you moved in. You know the temperature outside in Nueva York is close to chilling, and feel suddenly grateful for the bed’s warmth. The soft comforter, and the warm body next to you. It makes you pause for a moment.

Looking down, you notice you notice you’ve gone full octopus on Miguel; an arm over his chest, a leg over his waist, his skin like a furnace through his soft t-shirt. A glance upwards confirms your boyfriend is indeed asleep next to you, a rare thing for an early riser like himself. The clock on the nightstand says 8:30am and the iPad haphazardly perching on the edge of the bed tells you all you need to know. Of course. He’s been working in bed while you slept to keep an eye on you.

You smile, snuggling closer to him, hand slipping under his shirt as you do so. Protective, you think fondly.

“Morning.” Miguel’s raspy voice mumbles, waking up with your touch. “Feeling better, mi pulguita?”

You’d gotten injured on a mission with him the day before –Earth 4509, Goblin variant. Miguel was a hurricane of emotions when it happened. He felt guilty and worried about you; angry at the anomaly, and mad at your recklessness. Despite all this though, your boyfriend fussed over you in the medical center for an hour, before bringing to his apartment –which is now yours too– and taking care of you for the rest of the night.

The medicine, high tech procedures over at the Society, and your own spider healing got you better in no time –but Miguel’s a worrier. You can’t blame him; you’d be the same about him, it’s a good thing he rarely gets hurt.

“Good as new.” You say after a yawn makes you pause. “Surprised you haven’t gone to the lab yet.”

“Wanted to keep an eye on you.” Miguel stretches slightly, catches the iPad before it falls off the bed, and turns towards you. You were right.

The motion brings you with him and a moment later both of you are lying on your sides. You shift further up the bed to be eye level with him. “Hm you’re making me feel special, Miguel.” You smile and move closer to hug him close to you. “I love having you here, you know?”

“In bed?” Miguel jokes, one of his hands skimming over your thigh until it settles on your waist squeezing it briefly. All his casual affection makes your heart beat wildly in your chest, this is no exception.

You roll your eyes at him and his soften while he looks at you. “Here, with me in the mornings. I feel lucky to see you like this, is all.”

“Well you wouldn’t let me leave.” Miguel sighs, pretending to complain until you raise a disbelieving eyebrow.

“Never stopped you before, babe.” You bring a hand to his hair, messy and tousled from sleep but still soft. Perfect.

“There’s no one I trust more than you, you know that.” His voice is a hushed thing as he moves so his face settles on your neck. A soft kiss is placed on your skin not a second later. You’re sure he feels your pulse jump. “I wanted to stay.”

You smile widely, closing your eyes at the series of kisses Miguel leaves on your neck. “I actually feel a lot better now. The scar is gone too.”

Miguel’s fingers make their way under your shirt, carefully feeling at your abdomen and finding nothing but soft skin and the gooseflesh he raises. His shoulders relax even more as he keeps his hand there. “Gracias a Dios.” He sighs. “Please, don’t scare me like that again.”

“I didn’t.”

“Pulguita…” Miguel sighs.

“I won’t go off on my own again, I promise.” You mumble apologetically. It’s how you got hurt in the first place; Miguel was battling the Goblin variant, and you ran off to get some civilians out of the danger zone. Separated, the Goblin decided to send his Glider your way and as you shielded the civilians from the device’s blades, your abdomen got hit. It pierced your suit and skin, leaving deep gash all the way across.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the phantom of the stinging wound even though it’s completely healed. “Don’t worry so much, okay? Your face is too pretty for that.”

“Pretty huh?” Miguel’s teeth scrape affectionately at your earlobe before kissing the spot underneath it. He smiles when you shiver.

“You know you’re gorgeous, gorgeous.” You grin, pushing him away and moving so you’re sitting on his waist. His dark hair is a stark contrast against the pillows, the ray of sunshine from before falling on his face now. Tiny specks of light brown peak through his eyes with the light. It takes your breath away and draws you to them at the same time. He is lethal up close, a kind of beautiful you thought only appeared in books or movies. You can’t help but hum in appreciation.

Miguel tilts his head at you, a thick eyebrow rising in question. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m flirting with you.” You state simply, a truth he already knows. He can read you perfectly, a man of facts and data, single focused when he wants to be. Ever since you got together, his sole focus has been you, aside from the multiverse of course.

Your answer makes Miguel laugh; a full belly laugh that shakes your body where it sits. Your smile is inevitable once you see his and you chuckle along with him as you trace your finger over his features. He is a delight to see when he’s carefree; a rare sight that’s become more common lately. Despite his teasing and the consequential ego boost he will have, you look. His cheekbones, thick eyebrows, beautiful expressive brown eyes and gorgeous jaw. If you could you’d write poems about him anytime you looked at him. But you’re no poet, you’re just a girl. A girl with an otherworldly boyfriend she wants to kiss.

Leaning down you brush your nose against his, teasing your lips over his before placing a careful kiss in the space underneath his jawline, then another and another until you reach his lips again but pull away. Payback from his own teasing kisses earlier.

“You’ll be the death of me, mi amor.” Miguel smiles, a mischievous yet sweet thing that makes your heart leap on your chest again.

You grin, lips widening into a full smile as he sits up. Miguel’s arms go around you while he kisses your top lip. It’s a fleeting thing but tender enough that you sigh happily. His lips move to kiss your neck again and the exposed skin on your cleavage, making your guard go down.

His hands are warm, you can feel them through the fabric of your top and his breath is hot over your skin. Heaven, you think, closing your eyes with a smile.

Until Miguel stands up suddenly and decides to throw you over his shoulder in a firefighter carry.

“Breakfast first.” Miguel says the smile on his face clear as day in his tone.

“What am I going to need some energy?” You tease, squealing when Miguel squeezes your thigh –he laughs again. You squeeze his ass in retaliation. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Like I said, the death of me.”

❥❥❥❥❥❥

hope you liked this! reblogs are always appreciated!

masterlist

[wileys-russo]

off limits (5) II a.putellas x león!reader

part one part two part three part four

off limits (5) II a.putellas x león!reader

"-so ale just, left?" alba clarified and you nodded. "i mean i thought i knew my sister but it is not like her to run away from a problem." alba winced and you hummed, twirling around the straw in your empty glass.

"i'm sorry amiga. i really did not know that is what happened, i assumed you both had a fight or she just said something stupid. alexia can be so stubborn sometimes but she is not one to just give up." alba sighed, moving her arm around your shoulders.

"thats what i thought too, but she has made it clear now that it meant more to me than it did to her." you shrugged, sighing deeply. "look amiga i don't mean to dismiss your feelings at all and please if i am overstepping, tell me." alba started as you looked at her curiously but nodded for her to continue.

"the way she looked at you as you were leaving, the way i watched her breakdown in that bathroom was unlike i have seen her before. my sister is someone to wear her heart on her sleeve around those she trusts, she is incredibly passionate and loving but she is not one to show weakness to many." alba started, your head falling to her shoulder as you hummed for her to continue.

"ale has never brought a partner home, never been public about a relationship, never spoke very much about anyone she's seen, she is a very private person chica even with me. but i promise you that she cares about you, i know her well enough to see that. but i think she is afraid of how much, so when something threatened that she thought it would be easier to pretend not to care, to protect herself and to protect you." alba continued as you frowned a little at her words.

"how is leaving me when i needed her, protecting me?" you argued, pulling your head back up and turning your body. "you and mapi have always been very very close, like alexia and i si?" you nodded in agreeance.

"we were, but i cannot look at her the same way since everything happened. i blame both of them for how things turned out, in different ways." you admitted, alba nodding that she understood.

"well if alexia did not like a partner i had, i would listen to her about why. because i know she cares about me and she wants me to be happy, so if i was happy and she still did not like my partner, i would want to know why." alba started, holding up a hand as you opened your mouth to interrupt.

"which i know is not the same situation and not to defend alexia because i could slap her for how she has handled this mi amiga. but maybe she did not want to be the cause of any issues with you and mapi, because she knows how special that bond is with your hermana'." alba suggested as you sighed deeply, taking a moment to collect your thoughts.

"then why would she not tell me that so we could have talked about it and worked through it? she just left alba, she left me like i was nothing and nobody to her. and that hurt! she does not understand how much that hurt." you whispered, facade breaking for a moment as you angrily wiped away a loose tear.

"okay hey hey carino we don't have to talk about it anymore. i'm sorry if i overstepped." alba pulled you into a tight hug as you sighed deeply into her shoulder.

"but you know...i would have loved to have you as my sister if you and ale got married." "alba!" "sorry! just trying to lighten the mood amiga."

"are you coming to malta next week then?" alba pulled away, finishing the last mouthful of her drink and nodding for the two of you to leave.

with international break coming and spain not having any fixtures it meant you all had a few days off, so a few of the barcelona girls and their partners had organised to go to malta as a getaway from everything.

"no." you shook your head firmly, having been invited but you knew through the team that alexia was also going. "wrong. you are coming! and you can hang out with me." alba grinned, pinching your cheek as the two of you walked toward her car.

"why are you going? do you have a secret girlfriend on the team you are not telling me about?" you teased her, not missing the way her face changed for just a fleeting moment. "you do! tell me." you demanded, smacking her shoulder.

"i don't, i promise ale invited me and that's it. but there is something you should probably know." alba started, unlocking her car as the two of you slid inside and you gestured eagerly for her to continue. "so when mapi first joined barca and she and alexia started getting very close-" alba started, car engine roaring to life.

"-me and your sister..." alba trailed off giving you a look as your jaw dropped. "you slept with maria?!" you gasped, albas eyes widening.

"mierda no! we went on a few dates, kissed a few times then decided we were better off as friends and that was that, nothing else ever happened." alba dismissed quickly, pulling out of the parking lot as you shook your head in disbelief.

"does alexia know?" "who do you think encouraged it?"

"oh i wish you had not told me that albs. that is so weird!" you groaned, struggling to wrap your head around it. "why is it weird! its not like anything happened, and her and ingrid are the most well suited couple to each other i have ever seen, soul mates." alba shook her head, speeding down the freeway.

"because she's my sister and you're-well you!" you huffed, cringing at the thought. "hey! there is a line of hot women waiting to get a chance with alba putellas thank you." the older girl hit you with her free hand.

"you know chica in another universe you and i..." she trailed off at a red light sending you a wink as you grimaced in mock disgust.

"hey i know you have a thing for putellas women, why not the younger better looking model amiga?" she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively with a toothy grin as you shoved her, both of you knowing it was all light hearted.

if anything you viewed alba as a sister of sorts in the same way you did ingrid, she was always around long before you and alexia got together and given you were barely a year apart in age you'd always been close.

"well i didn't think you had something for the león women alba but here we are." "i am swearing you to secrecy with that nobody else knows about it, you take it to the grave or i put you in an early one!"

~

alexia glanced up with a frown at the insistent buzzing from the security box by her door. quickly standing to make her way over there she rolled her eyes seeing her sister waiting downstairs on the small camera screen, buzzing her apartment number again and again.

she shouldn't have been surprised given that she knew alba had spent the afternoon with you, but still she was slightly taken aback by the way the younger girl forcefully shouldered past her the moment alexia opened the front door to let her in.

"so she told you."

"of course she told me alexia! you-" alba struggled to get her words out as her older sister sat back down on the sofa, nala curling up into her side. "explain, now." was all the girl could get out, pointing at her firmly.

"explain what?" "why you left her alexia." "alba-" "don't alba me. first you hide the relationship from me, then you are dishonest about why you broke up and then accuse me of trying to flirt with her at lunch! explain alexia."

the older putellas sighed, gently moving nala off of her as the small ball of fur curled up in her own bed on the floor, alexia running her hands down her face as she leant forward on her knees and alba took a seat.

"i don't know why. in the moment-in the moment i just heard the way mapi was speaking, the anger and the betrayal in her voice. selfishly my first thought was the team, if mapi was angry at both of us it would affect our overall chemistry on the pitch." alexia started, alba scoffing quietly at her words but remaining otherwise silent.

"so then i panicked and i just....i shut down. i didn't know how to process what i was feeling so i didn't know how to comfort her through what she was feeling. i knew i should have just held her, or hugged her but i was terrified that if i did then mapi would never speak to either of us again, and i couldn't be the cause of that." alexia continued, closing her eyes as guilt again flooded her body in waves.

"then that next morning all i wanted to do was go and see her, to apologise and check on her and try to talk. but i couldn't get the image out of my head of mapi screaming in her face, i have seen them fight before but never ever like that. or the way her voice broke as she begged me not to leave alba. she begged me and i did not even turn around!" alexia whispered, pinching the bridge of her nose and hanging her head in her hands.

"mapi did not deserve a best friend who lied to her, so i iced her out. and she did not deserve a girlfriend who does not stand up for her, does not protect her, who walked away like a coward and did not own up to her mistakes." alexia finished, glancing to look at her younger sister whose features were curled into a frown, though alexia was unable to decipher what she was thinking.

"so you just...left it. did not apologise, did not try to explain yourself. do you know how much she is hurting ale? how confused she is? she thinks you do not care for her, and that you never did." alba spoke quietly and firmly, though not unkindly seeing how much the older girl was clearly struggling.

"of course i care about her!" "well how is she to know that hermana? have you told her?" "no." "exactly. then imagine how much more confused she is when suddenly you try to play hero at the club the other night as if you cared for her after icing her out, after leaving her without an explanation, ignoring what happened and not making any attempts to fix it. you do not get to treat her like that alexia and then be confused as to why she did not allow you to take her home and be her saviour, that is cruel."

"i know." alexia muttered, having spent the time since doing nothing but reflecting on all the things she wished she'd done differently, and plaguing herself deeper and deeper into a self inflicted pity party that the cage she was in was one of her own creation.

"good. because she is coming to malta and you are going to fix things before we go!" alba announced, alexias head shooting up and her eyebrows furrowing. "since when?" alexia questioned, having checked in multiple times with her team mates and friends about the guest list for this little getaway.

"since i told her i would be kicking her door in and kidnapping her if she was not ready when i pick her up to go to the airport." "mierda alba! you had no right to get involved!" "you have no right to be upset if she chooses to go away with her team and her friends, and you are going too. so you have six days to start fixing things with her if you do not want to lose her for good hermana."

~

your plan to avoid alexia was going well, as cruel as it sounded her knee had been giving her some trouble which meant she wasn't training with the group, rather focusing on media duties, physio visits and individual sessions.

there was only one more game until international break and alexia already knew she was not going to be on the roster. she had done her best to make peace with it, as much as it terrified her anytime something felt a little off.

so you continued to avoid any and all interaction with the captain, and in turn you'd also been avoiding your sister, still struggling with how to forgive her after the domino effect of her actions.

but with ingrid in her ear about giving you the space you clearly needed she was doing her best to try and respect that, but it killed her to shoot you a smile across the locker room and see you have to force one back before you'd hurry away.

back when things were normal you'd eat at her house at least twice a week, come over when you were bored, spend weekends curled up on her sofa with bagheera. it used to annoy her sometimes the way you would just show up, sometimes even letting yourself in and eating the food from her fridge like you lived there.

she'd scold you and scowl at you asking if you had suddenly moved in, and you'd simply grin at her like annoying younger siblings do, wandering off to watch a movie on her tv which was bigger than yours, flicking through her extensive novel collection or stealing clothes from her closet when she wasn't looking.

they were right when they say you don't know what you miss until its gone, and mapi would sometimes find herself staring at her front door wishing you would barge in uninvited again.

when you would come to her for advice or just to rant angrily about something that had riled you up that day, even something as simple as your neighbors taking your parking spot meaning you had to park a three minute walk away from your building.

despite your sisterly arguments the two of you had always been close, always told one another everything, especially as you grew up and matured and followed in her footsteps.

some would have been frustrated at their younger sister seemingly copying their every move, but mapi could not bring herself to feel anything but pride when she watched you play and progress through the years, adoring the thought that she had played a heavy hand in your love of football.

but the one thing you'd kept from her, was the one thing that had ruined everything, and mapi truly had no one to blame but herself. she wanted her baby sister back, but as ingrid had explained she needed to let you come to her now, and that the tighter she held on the more you would just pull away.

things shifted one afternoon when you were returning from a meeting with jonatan after your last training session for the week, assuming most of the team and staff had left for the day given it was nearing the early evening.

you were exhausted both physically and mentally, everything had begun to take a toll on you and you were noticing it finally start to affect your football, something you'd tried hard as you could to avoid happening since all of this started in the first place.

but it appeared you weren't the only one who was feeling the effects of everything. your eyes flickered to the right as you passed one of the physios offices, noticing a body sat on the benches which of course you recognized right away.

you paused for just a fleeting moment, and all it took was that milisecond for her eyes to meet yours, red and puffy a clear indicator she'd been crying. uncomfortable with the sudden invasive vulnerability you'd hurried away, though felt something pulling you back as you stopped after a few steps.

your body fell into turmoil and you froze on the spot, head sent into a dizzying back and forth argument about how you should continue. eventually the little voice in the back of your head won out, and ignoring the thoughts creeping in about how bad of an idea this was.

"hola capi." you greeted her quietly, knocking on the door gently as again she looked up, even more startled than before that you'd returned and directly addressed her. "hola." she forced a small smile back as you lingered in the doorway.

"estás bien?" you checked in with a slight raise of your eyebrow, nodding to the ice pack strapped to her knee. "fine, gracias." she spoke through tight lips with a curt nod of your head, taken aback by how this was the most the two of you had spoke in days.

"no you're not alexia." you remanded softly, moving into the room and pulling yourself up to sit on the bench opposite her. a thick silence brewed between the pair of you, the tension almost suffocating as you sat together unmoving.

"i have to go get some scans on my knee tomorrow, maybe an mri. they are worried something has potentially torn, we are hoping for the best and it is just a minor setback and needs some rest, but preparing for the worst just in case." alexia confessed, eyes dropping back down to the floor as you winced at her words.

"you do not need to say anything please, i just needed to tell someone." alexia was quick to clarify before you could speak, unsure what you would have even said as you nodded wordlessly respecting her wishes, the thick silence again growing between the two of you as you contemplated how to leave after her confession.

"for two minutes, can you please pretend you do not hate me?" alexia finally broke, glancing up at you through hooded eyes, hazel orbs shining even more prominently through the thin sheen of tears she'd swallowed back.

"i don't hate you alexia." you forced out after a moment. "i would not blame you. i have been selfish, a coward, treated you worse than you would ever deserve. i would not blame you for hating me, i would hate me." alexia spoke up, glancing toward you as your brows furrowed and you stared at your hands in your lap, thinking of your next words carefully.

"alexia of course i do not hate you. I miss nothing more than just laying with you in silence with just you being there, being with me.” you confessed, voice barely above a whisper as alexia's knuckles turned white from how hard she gripped the edge of the bench she was sat on.

"you miss me?" was all the catalan could manage out, and you felt her eyes bore into you from across the room. "what? of course i miss you alexia. i never even got a chance to speak to you about any of it we just...broke up and i never even got a say in that, it just happened." you managed to get out, emotions starting to bubble over as the control you had over them started to slip away.

"and now all of a sudden I have thousands of pictures of you in my phone that I cannot bring myself to delete, months worth of memories shared with you that i cannot shake from my head. my finger hovers over your contact sometimes just wanting to hear your voice and i think constantly about what you're doing. wondering if you miss me, if you regret what happened and how different things might be if you didn't leave." the control slipped away completely as you started to get off your chest the insecurities that had eaten away at you for weeks now.

"if you called i would have picked up." alexia forced out, eyes locking with yours and her stomach churning at the obvious pain leaking from them as you spoke.

"would you? because the worst part about all of this is that i can't stop overthinking about why you left me and why you never even explained yourself or even tried to apologised. so of course I’m not going to call you and tell you I still love you and I miss-"

"you still love me?" alexia's eyes widened as yours squeezed shut, heart clenching. "i do. but i know now that you don't because if you loved me you wouldn’t have left me like that. you wouldn’t have waited weeks to finally grow a spine and apologise which you still haven't done! you wouldn’t have made up with my sister before making any sort of effort with me knowing that it’s partly her fault we even broke up in the first place!" your temper flared now, jumping down from the bench with your fists balled by your side.

"mi amor please i can't even begin to-" she regretted the word the moment it left her mouth, watching your face fall and your heart shatter all over again causing her stomach to heave.

"don't call me that. please!" your voice cracked and you paused, collecting yourself as alexia fell silent again, face burning red at her mistake.

"the only thing i hate alexia is that I can’t hate you. I can’t get you out of my mind and I can’t escape you even when i'm alone in a room miles away from you. you’re always there with me in the back of my head, or there’s a photo of you on my fridge or on the wall, or there’s a magnet or a keyring or some sort of trinket you bought me that I cannot find the motivation to get rid of but every time I look at them and think of you it just breaks me all over again!" your fist thumped down on the padded material of the medical bench in frustration.

"i am so so sorry, i've wanted to say it but i do not know how to say how sorry i am, for how much i've hurt you and how unfair it was for me to leave you." alexia forced out, arms shaking lightly from the strength in which she squeezed the bench in her hands, a miracle it hadn't broken at her desperate grip.

at her hurried apology a suffocating silence brewed once more, wrapping its hands around your throat as the anger suddenly melted from your body and you could have crumpled to the floor. instead you pulled yourself to once again sit on the medical bench across from your ex lover.

"i never thought that you were capable of hurting me like this alexia. not the girl who held me for days as i sobbed when i withdrew from the national team and would no longer play for my country because of him. who wrote me dozens of love letters and organised for flowers to arrive at my door every week she was away on international duty." you paused for a second to swallow the lump which was building up in your throat as you forced back the hot tears which threatened to fall at any second.

it was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop.

"the girl who I thought was just as much in love with me as I am with her." you broke at that sentence, unable to hold back the dry sob which ripped from your throat, your eyes falling to the floor unable to hold hers anymore.

"the same girl who left me when I needed her. who wouldn’t even hug me or look me in the eyes as I sobbed and begged like an idiota for her to change her mind." your chest heaved with silent cries as you struggled to catch your breath.

"no, alexia don't!" you tried to push her away, not having heard her even get up off the chair as she slotted between your legs and gently cradled your face in her hands.

"please if i could go back and undo it i would but i cannot and i don't know how to apologize enough for that, i cannot ever say i am sorry and sorry will never ever be enough. but i am still that same girl hermosa." you flinched at the term of enderament but alexia had already gone too far to stop.

"i know to have the seat heater on when i pick you up for an early training, i know to always have a spare jacket in my car because you always forget one, i know to order extra food when you say you are not hungry because i know you are. i am still that same girl and i am still so in love with you. but flowers and words will never be enough to fix this, how can i fix this mi amor? please!" the older girl begged, pressing her forehead to yours as you gave up trying to push her away, body wracking with sobs as hot tears carved their way down her own rosy cheeks.

"i am so tired alexia. i am so tired of hurting and wondering and overthinking. i am so tired of walking on eggshells and being angry and upset, it is so draining and i am exhausted." you whispered out, throat raw and aching as your chest heaved and you tried desperately to steady your breathing.

"but i don't know how to fix this ale. i don't know how to go back and pretend like it never happened because it did. i cannot risk hurting myself all over again if i let you back in, i am so sorry ale but i do not trust you anymore, not with my heart or with me." your own hands gently clasped her cheeks, using your thumbs to wipe away the tears which pooled in the corner of her eyes.

once you had you moved to grab her wrists, gently wrenching her hands from your face as they hung limply by her sides, her body sagging in defeat at your words and you ignored the way your mind was screaming at you to take them back and to reach out to comfort her.

"i am exhausted of avoiding you and being angry at you, it is killing me and clearly you have other things you need to be focusing yourself on." you forced out, nodding to her knee as she rested her body against the bench.

"we will never be as we were alexia, and i think we both need some time to make peace with that." you started, knowing that your next words were going to deliver a fatal and final blow.

"my contract is up this year with barca ale, and i will not be renewing it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

part six

um....i'm sorry? this is not the end though besties do not fret, things aren’t always as they seem, or maybe they are who knows (I do since I’ve half written the next chapter already) xx

[messylustt]

v.31.10.23 day sixteen: corruption kink ( nsfw )

miguel o’hara brainrot

his little helper was always by his side. helping him in missions, and the overall technicalities of the spider society. you always had a smile on your pretty face, and miguel couldn’t help but feel enamoured by your innocent charm. ‘innocent’ perfectly described you, with your inexperience as you looked at the world through those rose-coloured glasses. but your innocence got you in trouble, too many times miguel had felt a sense of worry or protectiveness over you. you were far too innocent for this world. and as your boss it’s his duty to help you out, right? of course it is. of course miguel should help you with your inexperience… “shh, mi cariño, you’re okay, it feels good doesn’t it?” the feel of you clenching around his fingers tell him enough, as your wide eyes take in the dirty act miguel is doing. your innocence being given to him without your real knowledge of it. miguel would just talk you through it, making it not a big deal as his hard cock thrusts into you. “jus’ wanna make sure you’re prepared for anything. that’s all i wanna do…” he hums an excuse distractedly, as he takes your nipple into his mouth sucking and licking. miguel just wants to help you. but remember only he can. “be a good girl f’me, widen your legs…yeah baby…that’s it…”

taglist below

@spiderst4rgirl @buttertubz @nayylas @cultrise @miguelsslut @eddieslooneymoonie @duckyduck25 @chysalxsm @lusttszn @lemonlotem @siidmm @Horror_sl*t @urmotherlvr @carlixa @jackdawwaquarium @vampsired @kaitoliu @diyag @shadowarchon @zabac69 @alucards-no-life-queen @certified-stargirl @andrealuvsmiguel @freehentai @vic0dyn @raexy @awniie @slut4drudy @ramiiroll @briefrebelfanalmond @kuujo @LittleAbyssGirl @oyaapeach @matchayuii @zaunsin @pinkghost222 @kodzuminx @iite-cool @urabotlmao @missbeverlyhills @winteringfalls @rostarblog @chocolatechiipsworld @mcinava @br0ken--ruby @burningpeace @myrcella-maximoff @shadowarchon @coffie-witch @die4niyahhh @oilfics @hawunts @i-do-be-vibinn @2099rk @notasadgirlipromise @Littlemissdilfloverr @3xclusive_.y0ni @killvaswrld @lynnxnnyl @hk11 @oharasmommymilkers00 @ttlynotme @mindscape123 @danikirbs @herefor-tojis-tits @m0tiveee @pixiesbored @ilikedragons09 @Connieslivrgyal @stariiakarii @thyroidissues @motherfuckergentleman @acwubi @qxuevoral @dancer545 @l0starl

[aceyalonso]

lujuria velada - FERNANDO ALONSO

pairing : fernando alonso x fem!reader kinktober day 8

summary : fernando always loved the way silk looked on y/n, he loved how it'd hug her figure, he loved how it would make her look like a goddess, whether it was the dress he bought for her or her wearing nothing but the silk blindfold.

warnings/notes : swearing, smut, implied age gap (20s/40s), oral (fem!receiving), nipple play, fingering, praise kink, hair pulling (slight), sensory deprivation (blindfolding), protected sex (always use a condom guys!!!), overstimulation, creampie, squirting, use of "mi princesa" and "good girl, slight body worship, multiple orgasms

word count : 1.8k

a/n : kicking my feet and shit

main masterlist | kinktober masterlist

Y/n felt the soft fabric of the blue silk dress caress her skin as she walked beside Fernando. The dress he had bought for her was a perfect fit, hugging her body in all the right place and making her feel like a goddess. She couldn’t help but amile as she glanced at him, her eyes sparkling with desire.

As they entered his condominium, the dim lightinging and the scent of expensive wine created an intimate atmosphere. Fernando poured two glasses of red win, handing one to Y/n. They clincked their glasses together, and Y/n took a sip, savoring the rich flavor on her tongue.

Fernando leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. “I have a surprise for you tonight,” he whispered, his voice low and seductive. Y/n shivered in anticipation, wondering what he had in store for her.

He smiled mischievously as he pulled out the small velvet box from his blazer pocket. Y/n cocked her head to the side, a playful smirk on her lips. "Another bracelet? I don't think I need a fourth one, Fernando," she teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Fernando chuckled, his fingers brushing against the box. "No, my dear, this is something special. Something that will... spice things up." He opened the box, revealing a delicate blue silk blindfold.

Y/n's eyes widened in surprise, a mix of curiosity and excitement coursing through her veins. "A blindfold?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her heart raced as she looked at the blue silk blindfold, a mix of nervousness and excitement swirling within her. "I don't know, Fernando," she said, trying to sound playful but unable to hide the slight tremor in her voice. "I've never done anything like this before. What if I don't like it?"

Fernando's eyes softened as he gazed at Y/n, his voice gentle yet firm. "Don't argue, mi princesa," he murmured, his fingers brushing against her cheek. "Just put the blindfold on. I promise, I'll take care of you."

Y/n's heart skipped a beat at his words, a sense of trust and vulnerability washing over her. She hesitated for a moment, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached for the blindfold. With a deep breath, she tied it around her eyes, the world around her fading into darkness.

Fernando couldn't help but smirk as Y/n tied the blindfold around her eyes. "You're doing great, mi amor," he whispered, his voice filled with admiration.

He then gently scooped her up in his arms, cradling her against his chest as he carried her to his bedroom. The softness of the blue silk dress contrasted with the warmth of his skin, and Y/n found herself melting into his embrace.

As they entered the bedroom, Fernando carefully laid her down on the plush bed, his hands caressing her body with a tenderness that sent shivers down her spine. "Relax, mi princesa," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "Let me take care of you tonight."

Y/n's heart raced as she lay on the bed, the blindfold still covering her eyes. She could hear Fernando's footsteps as he moved around the room, the sound of drawers opening and closing. The anticipation was building inside her, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through her veins.

Suddenly, she felt Fernando's hands on her body, his fingers tracing the curves of her hips, her waist, her breasts. She gasped softly, arching into his touch as he slowly unzipped her dress, the cool air of the room brushing against her skin.

Y/n's breath hitched as Fernando's hands roamed over her body, his touch both gentle and possessive. She could feel the heat of his gaze upon her, even through the blindfold, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

As he slowly unzipped her dress, the cool air of the room caressed her skin, making her nipples harden beneath the thin fabric of her bra. Y/n bit her lip, trying to contain the soft moans that threatened to escape her lips as Fernando's fingers traced the swell of her breasts.

"Fernando," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Please..."

Y/n's body was incredibly sensitive to Fernando's touch, every caress sending sparks of pleasure throughout her entire being. Her skin tingled wherever his fingers grazed, and she found herself arching into his touch, desperate for more.

Fernando could sense her need, and he took his time exploring her body, his hands gliding over her curves with a reverence that made her heart swell. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "You're so beautiful, like a fucking goddess. I want to worship every inch of you."

Y/n's breath hitched, her body trembling with desire as Fernando's hands continued their sensual journey. She could feel the heat building within her, a pulsing ache that demanded to be satisfied.

Fernando's lips trailed a path of fire across Y/n's skin, starting with her neck and moving down to her collarbone. He placed soft, open-mouthed kisses along her chest, his tongue darting out to taste her skin.

He lavished attention on her breasts, his lips and tongue worshipping each mound until they were swollen and aching. Y/n gasped and moaned, her back arching off the bed as Fernando's mouth worked its magic.

His lips then traveled lower, kissing and licking a trail down her abdomen and stomach. He paused at the waistband of her panties, his breath hot against her core.

Y/n's body trembled with anticipation as Fernando's lips trailed lower, his breath hot against her core. She could feel the dampness between her thighs, her body aching for his touch.

Fernando's hands gripped her hips firmly, holding her in place as he leaned in closer. His tongue darted out, licking a slow, sensual path along her slit, and Y/n cried out in pleasure, her fingers tangling in his hair.

He continued his ministrations, his tongue swirling around her clit and delving deep inside her. Y/n's hips bucked against his face, her moans growing louder and more desperate with each passing second.

Y/n's senses were overwhelmed with pleasure, Fernando's tongue feeling even more intense than before. Every lick, every suck, every flick of his tongue sent shockwaves of ecstasy through her body.

She could feel the pressure building inside her, her muscles tensing as she neared the edge. Fernando could sense her impending release, and he redoubled his efforts, his tongue working her clit with a fervor that left her breathless.

"Fernando," Y/n gasped, her voice strained with need. "I'm...I'm going to...oh god..."

Her body tensed, her muscles clenching as the pleasure reached its peak. With a cry of ecstasy, she came undone, her orgasm crashing over her in waves of intense pleasure.

Fernando continued his ministrations, his tongue lapping up her release as she rode out the aftershocks. Her body trembled, her fingers still tangled in his hair as she slowly came back down to earth.

Fernando kissed Y/n softly, his lips tender and gentle against hers. He could taste himself on her tongue, a reminder of the pleasure he had just given her.

"Was that good for you, mi amor?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "Do you want more?"

Y/n nodded, her breath still coming in short gasps. "Yes," she whispered, her voice filled with desire. "I want all of you, Fernando. I need you inside me."

Fernando's hands caressed Y/n's face, his fingers tracing the curve of her cheek. "Do you want to keep the blindfold on, mi princesa?" he asked, his voice soft and gentle. "Or would you like to see me as I fuck this pretty pussy of yours?"

Y/n hesitated for a moment, her heart racing with excitement and nervousness. The blindfold had heightened her other senses, making every touch, every kiss, every lick feel even more intense. But the thought of seeing Fernando's face, of watching the pleasure play across his features as he took her, was incredibly appealing.

She took a deep breath, her decision made. "I want to keep the blindfold on," she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness. "I want to experience everything through touch and sound."

Fernando smiled, a mix of admiration and desire in his eyes. "As you wish," he murmured, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, tender kiss.

He reached for the condom he had placed on the nightstand earlier, his hands trembling slightly as he sheathed himself. He positioned himself between Y/n's legs, the tip of his erection teasing her entrance.

Y/n's breath hitched as she felt the tip of Fernando's erection teasing her entrance. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, the weight of him pressing down on her.

"Please," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I need you inside me."

Fernando's hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he slowly pushed forward. Y/n gasped as he entered her, stretching her walls to accommodate his size. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and slight discomfort that quickly faded as her body adjusted to him.

He began to move, his hips rocking against hers in a slow, sensual rhythm. Y/n's hands gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she matched his movements.

The blindfold heightened her other senses, every thrust sending waves of pleasure through her body. She could hear the sound of their skin slapping together, the low moans and grunts of pleasure that escaped Fernando's lips.

"Y/n," he groaned, his voice strained with need. "You feel so good. So tight. So perfect."

Her body shook with pleasure, her muscles tensing as she neared the edge once again. She had lasted longer than she expected, but the intensity of the sensations was taking its toll on her.

Fernando could feel her body tightening around him, her walls clenching as she approached her climax. He increased his pace, his thrusts becoming more forceful and urgent.

"That's it, mi amor," he growled, his voice low and husky. "Cum for me. Let me feel you."

Y/n's body convulsed, her orgasm hitting her with a force that caught her off guard. She cried out, her back arching off the bed as she squirted, her fluids spraying Fernando's lower abdomen.

Fernando's eyes widened in surprise, but the sight of Y/n's pleasure pushed him over the edge. With a grunt, he buried himself deep inside her, his own release filling the condom.

They collapsed together, their bodies slick with sweat and fluids. Y/n's heart raced, her breath coming in short gasps as she tried to process what had just happened.

Y/n's body continued to tremble, her muscles quivering with the aftershocks of her intense orgasm. Fernando gently removed the blindfold, his fingers brushing against her cheeks as he did so.

Her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light of the room. She gazed up at Fernando, her eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and awe.

"That was...incredible," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I've never...I mean, I didn't know I could..."

Fernando chuckled, a warm smile spreading across his face as he gazed down at Y/n. "We'll only have two rounds tonight," he said, his voice filled with amusement. "It seems like you're already satisfied, mi amor."

Y/n blushed, a mix of embarrassment and pride washing over her. She had never experienced such intense pleasure before.

taglist

for all posts; @nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore

kinktober taglist; @cloud-55 @emryb @sie17136 @jaimeleannavanlloman @wosof1 @wholetmewritethat @glitterbitch1 @under-seasoned-pasta @sinners-98-world @lewishamiltonismybf

[solacebean]

SHINY DUO PREORDERS OFFICIALLY OUT! ✨✨🎉

➡️ Go check them out! Open from May 5th to May 30th!

Extra Info under the cut

⭐️Each keychain is made with a heart clasp and holographic film on one side, with the other side left clear to be able to fully appreciate the art. Keychains will also come with a layer of protective film on BOTH sides, which you can peel off

💖Pearl will include a blue heart clasp, while Gem will include a purple heart clasp. Both will include a broken glass holographic film on one side, which will look like this:

These preorders are made to gauge interest for the design and others like it, and as a way to help make enough money for the initial manufacturing process.

‼️There is limited stock available for preorder as I will only be ordering so much, but this will NOT be your only chance to get them! Any extra stock I have left over and any future stock I make of this design will be included along with the rest of my hermitcraft designs in a bigger and permanent listing later down the line (at least several months after this preorder ends) for a slightly higher price.

[mingyuisthevictimofsvt]

His Royal Application Only

Part 2: Trouble in Tall Form (Teenage Years)

By the time you turned sixteen, everything about the palace had changed. The windows looked taller. The halls seemed quieter. The flowers in the garden bloomed differently. It was as though the world had started holding its breath.

Or maybe it was just because Mingyu had hit a growth spurt and now towered over every noble boy in court.

He still laughed the same—loud, unapologetic, the kind that made your chest flutter even though you’d never admit it. But his voice had dropped, and suddenly when he said your name, it sounded like a secret only meant for you.

And worse—he knew it.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said one day, poking his head through your window like he always used to.

You were seated on your bed, pretending to read a book. “I haven’t.”

“You skipped the archery lesson.”

“I had a stomachache.”

“You ate an entire chocolate tart.”

You threw a pillow at his head.

He caught it, grinning.

“Why are you here?” you muttered.

“I missed you.”

He said it like it was simple, like it didn’t twist something warm and stupid in your chest.

Mingyu, despite being royalty, still didn’t act like a prince. He would sneak into the kitchens at night, steal extra food from the royal banquets for you, and try to convince the guards to let him put googly eyes on the palace statues “to make them more relatable.”

He never took things seriously.

Except you.

He was always serious when it came to you.

You noticed it in the way his smile softened when you entered a room. In how he always stood between you and other boys. How he started wearing perfume the day you casually complimented how his shirt smelled like the royal laundry soap.

And how his eyes never wandered from your face during events.

At seventeen, things shifted even more.

During the Harvest Festival, you were forced into a courtly dance by a noble’s son who clearly didn’t know how to count beats or respect space.

You felt your wrist being tugged—firm, protective—and then you were in Mingyu’s arms instead.

“I’ll take over,” he said, eyes hard on the boy. “You’re off rhythm.”

“But—”

“I said you’re off rhythm.”

The boy scurried off.

You stared at Mingyu.

He didn’t let go.

“…You hate dancing.”

“I hate bad dancing. This is different.”

You were sure your heart stuttered.

“…You’re staring.”

“You look pretty,” he said without blinking. “Is that illegal now?”

Your brain short-circuited.

That night, he walked you back to your quarters, your arms brushing with every step.

Neither of you said much.

Until you reached the door.

“Hey,” he said quietly, hand still tucked in his coat pocket.

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever think about the future?” he asked, staring up at the stars.

“All the time.”

His jaw clenched. “What if—what if you’re not here one day?”

You frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He hesitated, looking down at you. “Because… you're amazing. People notice that now. What if someone else tries to take you away?”

You blinked.

“Mingyu, are you asking if I’ll be kidnapped?”

He gave you an unamused look. “No. I’m asking what happens if someone proposes to you first.”

“Are you planning to propose?”

“…Maybe,” he said, too fast, then looked away, ears going red. “I mean—I didn’t—Ugh, forget I said anything. That was stupid—”

“I wouldn’t say yes to anyone else,” you said softly.

He looked at you like you’d just rewritten the laws of the kingdom.

“Yeah?” he whispered.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

And for a second, the world stopped.

He stepped closer, then hesitated. His hand hovered near yours, fingers twitching. His eyes dropped to your lips.

You both leaned in.

Then—BANG!

Sir Pecks-a-Lot crashed into the window and screamed.

You yelped.

Mingyu nearly fell off the stairs.

You both stared at the pigeon flapping against the glass.

“…He’s jealous,” Mingyu said, deadpan.

“He’s unhinged.”

You burst into laughter, and the moment was gone. But it wasn’t forgotten.

In the weeks that followed, nothing was said about it again. But everything was different.

Mingyu looked at you longer.

You lingered near him more often.

People started whispering in the halls. “The prince and the advisor’s daughter…” “They’ve always been close…” “It’s bound to happen eventually…”

Neither of you confirmed anything.

But neither of you denied it.

You didn’t need to.

Not yet.

The storm was coming.

You just didn’t know it would arrive the moment you turned twenty.

•part 1 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5•

Series masterlist

Taglist - @ateez-atiny380 @palmsugr @https-seishu @childish-fear @chaeyodino @syluslittlecrows @codeinebelle @cscstrap @minghaniverse @lilililalalala @iarayara @dearcherryimissedyou @gohyemi @tokitosun

[thebunnednun]

"Down Boy!"

Pairing: Juan Ruiz x Gf! Imperfect! Reader

It's just a regular day with your monster who loves to cater to you~

Tags: teasing, touching, maybe some light puppy play if you squint and stand on your head, established relationships, pastel goth reader, werewolf boyfriend, monster fuckers unite!

wc: 3.6k

Your room smells faintly of strawberry body spray, bubble baths, and rosewater. 

Thick, pink velvet curtains frame the tall windows, their tassels glittering faintly in the warm light that filters through them. The furniture is antique style, white with gold accents and little heart shaped carvings. A few bat motifs are tucked in here and there, cleverly hidden unless you know to look. 

This is your room, sure. But technically it's your room in Dad’s house. He picked out and decorated this whole space.

A detail that still makes your heart squeeze every time you think about it.

The vanity you’re leaning over has little pastel colored jars and sparkly bottles organized in an almost chaotic way. Lip glosses, perfume, rollers, and your holy grail sunscreen, which you’re currently mixing with a touch of pink-champagne highlighter before dabbing it delicately along your cheekbones.

Gotta protect your skin and still sparkle on these hoes.

Your hair is tied into two low pigtails, curled into perfect bouncy ends, held in place with white silk ribbons that match your skirt. The pink highlights that Tilda helped you with look killer. The look is giving, sweetheart who could rip your heart out if she wanted to, and that’s exactly the aesthetic. 

You're currently in a fitted black tee that hugs your waist and chest just right, a bright red cartoon heart with tiny vampire fangs smiling up from your chest. The pleated pink skirt flares out just enough to twirl in. And your white thigh-highs? Perfect. The only thing left is—

‘Shoes.’

You groan and kick your legs slightly as you eye the two pairs on your bed. One set of chunky platform Mary Janes, glittery and black with a little pink heart on the buckle. The other, heels shaped like coffin lids. 

Because, obviously, you can't just have normal heels.

“I swear I’m gonna lose my mind,” you mumble, biting your glossed lip and staring between them. 

“Should’ve decided this last night.”

A voice floats from just outside your wall, technically not a knock, but a soft shuffle against the glass pane. 

You already know it’s him before you hear it.

“It’s open,” you call out softly, just above a whisper, eyes still focused on applying the tiniest bit more shimmer to the center of your lips. 

Gotta make them kissable.

By the time you snap the compact shut and turn around, Juan’s halfway through your window, shoulders twisting as he ducks in, careful and gentle.

You can’t help but smile. His socks are plastered with neon green sugar skulls, his brown sneakers held dangling in one hand by the laces like they’re sacred.

The second his feet touch the plush white rug near your bed, he crouches and pulls out a crinkly plastic bag from his pocket, setting his sneakers down inside with almost comical precision.

“Didn’t want to mess up your rug,” he grins, standing upright again. Your arms open before you can stop them. 

“Come here, mi amor.”

He practically lunges the short distance to you, throwing his arms around your waist and tucking his face into the crook of your neck like he’s been starved for your scent. You hug him back just as tightly, fingers lacing behind his back.

“You smell like—” he pauses and pulls back to sniff you gently. 

“Glitter and strawberries and… fire?”

You giggle. “Probably the lip gloss. And the sunscreen. And the highlighter. Also… maybe a little of my soul, who knows.”

Juan laughs, but then pulls back, eyeing your shoes on the bed.

“So. Which ones are we risking twisted ankles with today?”

You sigh dramatically. “Ugh. I don’t know. The coffin ones say I’m unhinged but hot, but the Mary Janes are more, I'm adorable but could kill you in a dream. Thoughts?”

“I say coffin heels,” he says seriously, “Because then you can dramatically fall into my arms and say ‘bury me in Dior.’”

And because he knows you’ve been dying to wear them out. 

You let out a very Manic pixie girl style giggle snort.

“Alright, but if I die, you better give me a hot eulogy.”

You bend over to grab the shoes and glance up at him from under your lashes. “Did you pack a backup outfit? And lighter? You know it’s sunny today.”

Juan scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “I didn’t pack a lighter. Tilda might have one, though.”

You roll your eyes and spin toward your dresser. “Dogs,” you mutter with affection. You slide open a drawer that looks like it holds old love letters or maybe silk gloves, but instead you reach past the lace to grab your secret weapon; a pink Hello Kitty lighter, completely bedazzled.

Much of your style is like this right now. Rhinestones, bows, glittery fangs.

You want it?

You got it.

Juan watches in stunned silence as you drop it into your Juicy Couture purse, which is already overflowing with pink puffball keychains, tiny plushies, a vial of blood red lipstick, and a pink bat-shaped mirror. It jingles when you zip it shut.

“I love you so much it physically hurts,” Juan says, staring at you like you just invented magic.

You smirk, dusting your hands and smoothing your skirt. 

“Duh. I’m fabulous. Now help me pick a back up shoe. We’re matching aesthetics today.”

Juan adjusts the backpack he slung over one shoulder, the fabric slightly sun faded and patched in places like it’s been through a few adventures too many. The second he moves to place it with your cutesy stuff, you give him the look, eyebrows raised, lips pursed like you’re two seconds from asking, ‘And what is that doing here?’

“Bed,” you say simply, pointing at the footboard with the dramatic elegance of a queen. 

“Drop it.”

He chuckles, obediently setting the bag down next to your large black travel trunk, your on demand coffin, as you like to call it now. As he unzips it, you catch a flash of sketchbooks inside, their corners bent, a few stickers on the covers starting to peel from wear.

“Heyyyy,” you hum, scooping one up before he can stop you.

“What secrets are you hiding in here, Mr. Ruiz?”

“Noooo,” he groans playfully, reaching over, but you’ve already flipped it open, plopping down cross legged on your trunk like you own the place, (because, technically, you do).

Your nails—long, coffin shaped, painted in a glossy pale pink with tiny black cross stitched bows at the tips, flip through the pages delicately. Your heart warms as you take in the detailed pencil sketches. Some are monsters, some animals, some rough comic panels. 

But your favorites are the ones of you. 

There’s one where you’re curled up on the window seat, another of you laughing midbite with mochi in your mouth, and one especially adorable doodle where you’re lying on his bed, bat wings spread around you like a blanket, captioned my girl.

He’s gotten better, his linework is smoother, bolder.

You find a new sketch of you, all pouty lipped and half asleep in one of his remaining hoodies. You don’t say anything. You just smile and close the page gently.

Juan slips behind you, rummaging through your walk in closet with ease. 

“I’m picking your backup shoes,” he calls.

“Please don’t pick the custom rhinestone crocs again.”

“I’m insulted,” he mutters, before emerging holding a pair of battered black Converse, frayed laces, sharpie spooderman on one side, paint splatters on the soles. He shoves them into a fresh plastic bag like he’s wrapping fine china and tucks them gently into the backpack. 

“Practical and tragic. Just like your taste in men.”

You chuck a pillow at him.

After one last check in the mirror, you grab your purse and begin loading your essentials. Your lilac bear spray, your matching taser with a bunny charm clipped on the handle, and a mini makeup palette, which you stuff into the little heart-shaped zip pocket with an air of satisfaction.

“I’m ready!” you chirp, just as you launch yourself at Juan’s back, arms wrapping around his shoulders and legs around his waist. He immediately places his legs underneath your thighs and you adore the warmth of his large hands. You allow yourself to be adjusted without tissue as you admire your boyfriend's strength. 

“And I have something for you!”

He lets out a grunt of surprise as he stabilizes you with a laugh.

“I think I can feel it—OW!”

You give him a smack to the side of his head before reaching forward to tug back lovingly on his curls. 

“Shut up and be romantic.”

He carries you with ease toward the bed and then playfully tips backwards, sending you both tumbling onto the plush mattress. You land beneath him, the both of you tangled in soft giggles, his laugh rumbling low in his chest.

You reach behind you and pull out a tiny pouch from your skirt pocket, unwrapping it to reveal the bracelet you’ve been working on for him in secret. It’s made of soft, earthy fibers, almost fur-like in texture, tightly woven with love and a little wolf charm hanging from the center. Tiny etched details make it look like it’s staring right into your soul.

Juan blinks in surprise, sitting up a little, his hands braced on either side of you.

“For you,” you say softly, holding it up.

Then you lift your other hand to show the matching one, pink, knitted to look like little hearts and bat wings wrapped around your fingers. Your bat charm has a tiny engraved J on the back, and his wolf charm has the first initial of your name, hidden just under the front.

Juan doesn’t speak at first. 

First his eyes take everything in, the way you see him do whenever he’s inspired by something. Then he takes both your hands gently in his larger ones like you’re made of wet marble. He turns them, eyes admiring your fingers, the bracelets… and then your nails.

“You got the bows,” he murmurs, half to himself, smiling wide. “They look so good. I’m glad you picked that set.”

“You paid for that set,” you remind him with a proud grin, brushing your thumb across his. 

“So technically, we have great taste.”

Juan chuckles, then kisses your hands. Not once, freaking multiple times. All around. The knuckles, the palm, the edge of your wrist where the veins show. You squirm a little but let him finish, cheeks warm and happy. You never really let other people freely touch you, except your little brother, mom, and grandmother do this to you. 

Yeah, he’s a special little guy. 

Juan carefully ties the pink bracelet around your wrist, fingers gentle and precise. Then you sit up and do the same for him, adjusting the little wolf so it faces outward. You fasten his bracelet for him next, and when you’re done, he tenderly intertwines your fingers with his and you press them against your cheek. 

You look up through your lashes, your lashes fluttering like wings, and his big, brown eyes are gazing at you with that warm, smitten softness that always makes your heart skip.

“You have the prettiest hands,” he says softly, almost in awe.

“Like… they could paint stars or something.”

You smile at him, heart fluttering, stomach doing little flips in your chest.

Juan’s eyes lock on yours. They’re dark, rich, and impossibly soft, yet so focused. He gazes at you like you’re made of starlight and spun sugar. And with a smile that could melt a glacier, he says, completely serious,

“I think you’re so cool.”

Your face breaks into the widest, most affectionate smile of the day.

“I know, babe,” you whisper, tugging him into a kiss. 

“But it’s really cute when you say it.”

You're still lying tangled up in Juan’s arms when he shifts his weight, adjusting slightly so he’s propped up on one elbow beside you. The afternoon light is coming through your window while the AC blasts and you actually feel good for once.

Maybe it’s the guy next to you.

You’re basking in the softness of the moment, fingers playing lazily with the strands of his curls. Until he says it,

“I know you picked those coffin heels,” he murmurs, nodding toward the pair you were struggling to decide between earlier, both propped dramatically near your vanity like a gothic fashion duel. 

“And listen, mi amor, I don’t mind carrying you. You know I love holding you.”

You blink, lips slightly parted as you tilt your head, curious where this is going.

“But if we run into trouble…” he trails off, his voice softening as he looks down at your clasped hands. “You’re not gonna want to run in those. And I also know how you get when your heels get scuffed.”

Translation: I know you, ‘Fucking hate that,’ and will make it whoever we’re tracking downs problem.

You sit up a little straighter, brows gently knitting.

“Okay, wow, I feel very seen right now.”

Juan grins, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“You don’t mind borrowing from Abby or Tilda when we’re in a jam, sure, but you like having your own things. Things you picked. Or stuff that’s just yours. And I…” 

He leans back slightly and nods toward the bay window and the little Juliet balcony beyond it. 

“I wanted to give you that.”

You turn to follow his gaze just as he stretches out one long arm and reaches through the window like it’s nothing, because to him, it isn’t. Being part chupacabra means scaling your three story house like a cat on steroids is his thing. Before you can ask, he’s pulling back in with a sleek pink shoebox, the corners ribboned in sheer black tulle.

Your breath catches.

“Juan,” you gasp, eyes wide, hands clutched to your chest as he sets the box in your lap. 

“You didn’t have to.”

He shrugs with a smirk, brown eyes warm and shining. 

“Yeah, but I wanted to. That’s the difference.”

Your heart flutters like it’s trying to sprout wings. Carefully, like it might bite you, you lift the lid and peel back the delicate tissue paper. Inside,

They’re perfect.

The heels are sleek and black with a soft shiny finish, but what steals your heart are the tiny bat wings that curl from the side of each shoe, like they were designed just for you. Delicate pink buckles, heart-shaped cutouts on the soles, and a hot pink underside give it the exact amount of whimsy meets shadow. 

You could scream.

Instead, you squeal so hard your bubblegum clings to your teeth, your hands flying up to your boyfriends face in disbelief. 

“MI VIDA?!”

Juan yelps and immediately presses a finger to your lips. “Shhh!” His eyes dart toward the door like it might burst open. 

“Babe, isn’t your dad home!?!”

You slap a hand over your mouth, still squealing internally. “I’m sorry, I just—Oh my glob.”

He’s trying not to laugh, his hands gripping your waist like he needs to anchor himself from your reaction. 

“You’re gonna blow our cover. Your dad and stepmother still think I’m the weird delivery guy who brings your shopping orders at night.”

“And we are so keeping it that way,” you whisper quickly, eyes wide with mock seriousness. “Because I’m not ready for my mom to start interrogating us about your ‘intentions’ while my Dad sharpens knives in the background.”

You slip the heels on immediately, unable to resist. They fit like a dream. Snug but comfortable, the straps hugging your ankles just right. You glance down and wiggle your toes, enchanted by the way the bat wings flutter just slightly when you move.

“Juann,” you murmur, your voice going soft and shaky in a completely different way now. “You’re gonna make me mess up my whole lip combo for this.”

He smirks, crawling closer, eyes locked on your lips like a challenge. 

“Then do it.”

‘Fuck, don’t gotta tell me twice.’

You lean in, ruining the perfect sheen of your gloss as you press a soft, warm kiss to his mouth, a hand curled in the collar of his hoodie, the other fisting his hair. His hands land on your hips like he’s not sure whether to hold you still or melt into you entirely.

When you part, your smile is dizzy and glowing, a mix of glitter and affection.

“I’m trouble,” you whisper against his lips.

Juan just smiles, his voice low and breathy. 

“And you’re my favorite kind.”

You're still giggling from the sappiness of him all when Juan cups your face and kisses you again, this time slower, warmer. His lips brush over yours with such care it makes your stomach flutter. One of his hands cradles the back of your neck while the other sneaks around your waist, pulling you gently into his lap as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You sigh into the kiss, your fingers winding into his curls softer, thumbs brushing the edges of his ears. He hums, pleased, then tilts his head to deepen it. Your lips part, and for a second, everything fades. 

No family drama, no anxious thoughts. 

Just the feeling of his mouth on yours and his strong heartbeat under your palm. 

You pull back with a little laugh, breathless, your lip gloss completely smudged. Juan grins, his thumb swiping across your lower lip. 

Now you've both got on a strawberry caramel lip combo.

“You always taste like that strawberry candy when you kiss me. It’s so unfair.”

You gasp dramatically.

“You mean to tell me I don’t always taste like that?”

“Mami.”

His voice drops with a whine that makes your stomach tingle. 

“You could be chewing rubber bands and I’d still think you taste like strawberry sugar.”

You let out a soft snort, pressing your forehead to his before sitting back on your ankles. 

“We gotta go.”

He sighs dramatically and falls back onto your pillows. “Fine. Let me be a gentleman about it at least.”

You grab your purse, its body bouncing with every keychain and fuzzy charm as you tug it over your shoulder. You double-check: Taser, bear spray, Hello Kitty lighter, compact mirror, bracelets for the girls, it’s all there. Then you step onto the bed, hands on your hips like a princess surveying her tower.

“So adorable,” he says, smiling as he gathers his own pack before not so subtly checking out your legs. 

Your ears burn.

You bite your lip to hide the grin that spreads across your face, but it’s too late. He already knows.

“Let’s go before I kiss you again and we never leave,” he adds, and you squeal as he scoops you up effortlessly. He crouches near the window, easing it open the rest of the way, and carefully helps you crawl out first, onto the little wrought iron balcony, where the early afternoon air smells like dew and faraway woodsmoke. You straddle his waist, purse balanced on your lap, and he holds your thighs with steady, practiced hands.

“Y’know,” you murmur as he starts to scale down the trellis like a lovesick cryptid, “This would be wayyy less romantic if you were a vampire.”

He snorts. “Que?”

“Yeah,” you tease, leaning forward against the curve of his neck. “Like, they’re all brooding and silent. You’re loud, awkward, sweet, and built like someone who eats sugar skulls for breakfast. It’s better.”

“What are you talking about?” he laughs just as you both land, barely a crunch as his sneakers meet the grassy covered ground.

“Nothingg,” you whisper, giving his cheek a kiss before he sets you down gently.

You both break into a light sneak jog, weaving through the tree line behind your house and ducking through the shadowed woods, leaves rustling underfoot. The path is half hidden, used only by you two, really, and eventually leads to a clearing where his Honda Civic waits like a loyal steed.

It’s red, with a matte black interior, and a tiny dent in the hood from a raccoon incident you don’t talk about. Juan got it from some old guy in your childhood neighborhood after winning a bet on whether or not he could beat him in a stretching contest. (He could. He did.)

As you near it, he opens the passenger door and offers his hand with a playful bow. 

“Mi Rena~”

You giggle and take it, and he helps you inside like he’s escorting royalty. “Watch your head, princessa,” he whispers, holding your purse aside so it doesn’t bump the roof.

You don’t have a licence. Your last experiences trying to drive involved a mailbox, a squirrel, and a mild existential crisis.

Like you can drive, and are good at it! It’s just that….

(Ur powers tend to fuck u up behind the wheel thanks to Dr Sarkov, *c0ugh*[Not.]) 

Juan knows better than to let you near the wheel unless it's in Mario Kart or an emergency. He shuts the door gently and runs around the hood before vaulting over it like it’s that stupid tik tok trend.

"Juan, I-"

You just stare at him, slips slightly parted as he chuckles and pops the door open before sliding into the driver’s seat, slinging his backpack into the backseat with one arm while his other hand finds yours instantly. His thumb brushes your knuckles as he turns the key in the ignition.

The car hums to life.

His civic peels out of the hidden campsite tucked into the woods with just enough kick to make your heart race. The trees blur past in the afternoon light, light stretching out over your windshield, and his hand stays wrapped in yours the entire way.

And just like that, you’re off. On another adventure with your favorite boy, in your new heels, glittering from your highlighter/sunscreen combo, heart pounding under your smile. You lean back against the headrest, and he squeezes your hand once. 

“So where to, baby bat?”

You grin and snuggle in close to his right arm. Why you feel so happy and at ease to be your sweetest self around him, you'll never know. Maybe it's the dog thing.

But he's your dork in shinning armor and you love him. 

“Anywhere we can get cherry slushies and break a few HIPPA laws.”

His laughter fills the car, warm and wild. 

“Say less.”

@ririisred Come and get it!!!

I am so sorry, literally thought I posted this. tw: long ass authors note

Request: This is my first request and I don’t know how to said it, but I really want to read something about Juan Ruiz and a reader ( a girl please) that gives draculaura’s vibes ( I really like her relationship with clawd) ( I don’t speak english so sorry if I said something wrong)

You said nothing wrong my love, do not worry. I am so sorry that I didn’t respond sooner, it was finals, my job was (is) killing me, and I had to lock in. And then Tumblr aste my freaking ask. Draculuara and Clawd are a staple. They were legit my fav couple from the monster high series. I don't think I make the reader as bubbly as drauclaura, I'd be up to write a part 2.

I also have a (kinda) ongoing fic series about Juan called 'Please don't hate me!' I'd love to pick back up soon. I've grown a lot as a writer since then and I love happy endings.

If you're here because you're a monster fucker, welcome, if you're into anime I also write for One pieces Charlotte Katakuri. If you don't know him, look him up and thank me later.

I have legit never written any monster fic's, but hey! there's a first time for everything.

I am taking requests for the series though dm's or anonymous asks. I'll even take a commsion. You can choose anyone you'd like and even characters not listed.

Remember, fandoms never truly die,

I also have a ko-fi now if you'd like to support me. :3 Not mandatory but always appreciated.

Pssst, my ao3 is alive and open for all readers.

See you soon!

-Angie (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

psst, you made it to the end, have a cookie: (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*🍪.✧

[squidgamenation]

Squid Game School AU Headcannons!!

Team Thanos list first

(Se-mi and Nam-gyu are twins in this and their parents are Mi-Nyeo and Deok-su)

Headcannons are after the cut

Years:

Thanos is in Third year (12th)

Nam-gyu is in Second year (11th)

Se-mi is in Second year (11th)

Min-su is in Second year (11th)

Gyeong-su is in First year (10th)

Thanos

- 18

- In his last year

- Almost never shows up to class but is still on or near campus (he's selling drugs)

- Known as the school's dealer

- Popular in school (for all the wrong reasons)

- Always gets caught vaping in the bathroom

- He's always getting suspended

- Hangs out mainly with Nam-gyu

- Has a soft spot for Min-su, makes sure no one messes with him

- Gives Nam-gyu drugs for free

- Charges Se-mi for her weed just because Nam-gyu finds it funny

- Gets bad grades for sure, he's failing

- He DESPISES Myung-gi, starts fights with him outside during lunch. Head Teacher Mr. Hwang (In-ho) has to break it up

Nam-gyu

- 17

- Se-mi's twin, Han Mi-nyeo and Jang-Deok-su's son

- Goes around and bullies the First years, and Min-su when he's angry

- Likes to go up to Se-mi and tease her randomly, tells everyone she's his little sister to piss her off

- Is always stealing some of Se-mi's lunch

- Goes into class only when he's sober, otherwise he's ditching

- Has low grades but he's smart, he just doesn't care

- He needs glasses however they're too expensive and he would refuse to wear them

- Is loud at lunch and likes to talk a lot so he can feel heard

- Wears the same uniform pair twice in a row which grosses out and angers Se-mi

- Lets Thanos paint his nails during lunch

- Also gets suspended a lot

- Copies Min-su's homework when he's too lazy and high to do it on his own

Se-mi

- 17

- Nam-gyu's twin, Han Mi-nyeo and Jang Deok-su's daughter

- Hates Nam-gyu and refuses to join his friend group

- Sometimes forced to hang out with Nam-gyu and Thanos because of Min-su

- Goes by "Han Se-mi" in school just so she's not associated with "Jang Nam-gyu"

- Has to share oversized uniforms with Nam-gyu to save money, She hates it and gets dress coded often for not wearing a skirt

- Gets good/decent grades, however she doesn't apply herself much and skips classes a lot

- Only talks to Thanos so she could buy weed, Nam-gyu refuses to share with her

- Tries to avoid Nam-gyu at school as much as possible and pretends she doesn't know him

- Listens to music during class, drawing on her notes instead of focusing

- Has a girlfriend who's popular with everyone and is at the top of their grade academically

Min-su

- 17

- In the top ten students of their grade

- Attends each and every class

- Gets perfect 100% grades

- Gets bullied a lot by other students

- Always letting people copy off his work since he's too scared to say no

- Scared of Nam-gyu and Thanos but he doesn't want to be alone. He's also grateful for Thanos' protection against bullies

- However he actually likes being around Se-mi and Gyeong-su since they're really his friends

- He likes helping teachers after class by cleaning or organizing

- Spends his breaks and lunches reading silently at Thanos' table

- Had a crush on Se-mi at one point and told her at school. He found out she was gay

- Nam-gyu teased him a lot because of the crush, he was very embarrassed

Gyeong-su

- 16

- In his first year

- Get's okay grades and attends all his classes

- He thought Thanos was really cool when he first met him and now he really admires him like a fan

- Has his own friends in his year, however he likes to hang out with Thanos more

- Has a girlfriend that he never stops talking about

- Feels bad for Myung-gi when Thanos fights him. He likes his youtube channel

- Talks to Se-mi a lot whenever she sits with them

- He likes to talk about his interests at lunch whenever something similar is brought up

- Asks Min-su for help on assignments when he doesn't understand (He asked Thanos once and ended up failing)

- Once begged Thanos to paint his nails after watching him paint Nam-gyu's. He asked for purple and got laughed at in class

That's it! Let me know if you want any school au headcannons on any of the other characters!!

[holyblonded]

I imagine estrellas had a day where everything possible has gone wrong, she thought she forgot her boots, ale had packed them in her bag, she put her training top on backwards, and more then when she gets home olga can tell it’s one of those days, estrella is eating dinner and drops some of the food on her lap. “i don’t know why im crying” ale is just sat there sniggering and estrella gets more emotional cuz ales laughing, olga goes over and wraps her in a hug calling ale mean giving her a pointed glare, gives estrella her jumper and tucks her up in the sofa

— estrella knew from the moment she woke up that it was going to be one of those days. she’d slept through her first alarm, stubbed her toe on the dresser, and nearly walked out of the house without her boots. panic had set in, only for ale to sigh, pull them from estrella’s bag, and dangle them in front of her face like she was the dumbest person alive.

— training had been a disaster. she put her top on backwards, spent half the warm-up trying to fix it, and then completely missed an easy tap-in during drills. when vicky laughed and called her “off-brand estrella” she had half a mind to throw a bib at her.

— by the time she got home, she was exhausted, her body aching, her brain fried. olga could tell the second she walked in the door. she didn’t say anything, just nudged estrella toward the dinner table with a soft pat on the back.

— estrella thought maybe things were finally looking up. the food was good, she was warm, she was at home. and then she dropped a spoonful of rice right onto her lap.

— she blinked at it. and then, completely out of nowhere, her eyes started welling up. “i don’t know why i’m crying.” her voice cracked at the end, and she dropped her fork onto the plate like she had just given up on life entirely.

— ale, the absolute menace that she is, was already snickering, barely even trying to hide it behind her glass of water.

— estrella’s face crumpled. “you’re so mean.”

— “i’m not mean,” ale protested, but she was still laughing, which did nothing to convince estrella otherwise.

— olga was not having it. she gave ale the most pointed glare imaginable before immediately making her way over to estrella, wrapping her up in a warm, protective hug. “ignore her, she’s heartless.”

— estrella sniffled dramatically into olga’s shoulder. “i knew it.”

— olga kissed the top of her head, already tugging her out of the chair. “come on, mi niña, let’s get you comfortable.”

— she gave estrella her favorite oversized jumper, the one that always made her feel safe, then tucked her up on the sofa, pulling a blanket over her legs like she was the most fragile thing in the world.

— ale sat down on the other end of the couch, still looking far too amused.

— estrella, wrapped up like a burrito, shot her a glare. “i hope you stub your toe.”

— ale just smirked, ruffling estrella’s hair. “love you too, idiot.”