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moongreenlight · 7 months

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141 gossiping about Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley for roughly 3,000 words idk titles are hard

Price was the first to notice. Priding himself on being incredibly observant, especially when it came to his boys.

He noticed that whenever they had a break from trainings or meetings, he’d somehow always find the two of you in a room together. Never close enough to give him reason to say anything. You scribbling notes on a patient report at one table, Ghost at another, his chair angled just enough so that he could watch you from the corner of his eye.

Noticed the way Ghost’s hand rested on the small of your back for a heartbeat when you entered a doorway before him. Just a brush of his massive hand on you, quick enough to be mistaken for an accidental touch.

Noticed how Ghost’s eyes seemed to always flick to you from across the mess hall. Not often, but enough for Price to casually turn his head and see that same nurse Ghost seemed to have a preference for.

At first, Price thought he could help by being a wingman of sorts. When Ghost took damage on a mission, Price would escort him to medbay and watch as he dismissed nurse after nurse until you were finally available to treat him. Price lingered as long as he could before you inevitably waved him away, cheekily reminding him you always took good care of his team and that you’d have ‘Lieutenant Riley’ back in no time. The only thing he could catch was the way Ghost’s shoulders relaxed by a hair’s breadth when you drew the curtain shut behind you.

He tried again during a meeting with his boys. Suggesting they bring a medic on a mission with them. Said something about how it would be better to have the option of a patch-up readily available. Keep his team fighting fit in real time instead of having to wait until they came back to base. Price saw the way Ghost tensed slightly in his seat, the muscles in his jaw twitching under his balaclava.

The notion was quickly vetoed. Ghost grumbling something about not wanting to babysit any more than he already does. How it’s ultimately more paperwork he doesn’t want to have to deal with.

He tried once more, going to Ghost’s office one evening. Almost turning tail once he realized how ridiculous it was to be this insistent on figuring out if his Lieutenant had some boyish crush on the sweet nurse he always seemed to be lingering around. But ultimately decided that it was good practice to know more about his team personally. Better bonding meant better interaction on the field, right?

He asked Ghost to redo some paperwork. Add a ‘next of kin’ to his file in the event that something happened and they needed to alert someone. Ghost looked a little suspicious, shrugging off the request.

“Left it off for a reason, Captain.”

He said gruffly, waving a hand. Barely looking up from his desk.

Price pursed his lips, shifting his weight slightly.

“You sure, Simon? Haven’t got anyone that’d be interested to know what happened to you?”

Ghost rubbed the bridge of his nose, like the conversation was more trouble than it was worth, before shrugging once more. Finally looking up from his desk and leaning back slightly in his chair.

“You planning on shipping me off somewhere and not picking me back up?”

A small chuckle from Price. A shake of his head.

“Can’t say I am.”

“Cheers, then. Leave it off.”

This quelled Price’s curiosity for a while, unable to dream up any other reason to try and force Ghost to indulge him. It no doubt hurt his ego a bit, thinking about how his Lieutenant and one of his closest friends was so dead set on keeping his personal life so closely guarded. He’d push the feelings aside, chalk it up to being jaded by his work. Over-involved in the lives of Soap and Gaz. It was probably good for Simon to have something sacred.

Soap wasn’t as easily deterred once he caught on. Not as immediately perceptive as the others, but he knew Ghost well enough to know his tells.

It was after a long mission. Months long. Grueling, shitty, exhausting work. They got back in the early evening, mercifully spared from a debrief until the following day. Soap somehow ended up dragging Ghost to a dive bar a few blocks from base. Trying to sound persuasive when he mentioned that it was a Friday night and they deserved a few drinks and some female attention after all this time going without.

And they did get attention. Two good looking military men sitting at the bar were bound to. Soap knew that Ghost wasn’t one to play the field, but this was a bit frigid even for him. Ignoring girls who came up and tried to strike conversation. Rolling his eyes, or huffing a sigh like it was a chore to even dismiss them, drumming his fingers on the wall of his glass like he’s bored. It was baffling.

What was even more baffling was the way that Ghost’s knee bounced slightly against the stool. An infinitesimally small movement, but the way it caught Johnny’s eye made it seem like Ghost was all but jumping up and down. He looked almost anxious. Itching to get up and leave.

“Fuck’s wrong with you?”

Ghost’s head jerked toward Johnny, cold eyes narrowing in a way that would have been terrifying years ago- before he’d gotten used to it.

“Come again?”

“Got somewhere to be, have you?”

He sounds almost indignant. Like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Ghost is stand-offish by nature, but this is a caliber he hasn’t yet encountered. Almost enough to be offensive. To make him question the quality of his company.

“Maybe I do. What’s it to you?”

Ghost grumbled, killing the contents of his glass with a final mouthful. Setting it back on the counter and moving to drum his fingers on the bar.

“Been out of the country for months and you expect me to believe you’ve got plans tonight?”

This earned a sigh, low enough to pass as a growl.

“You keeping my social calendar now, then?”

He stood, digging through his wallet for a moment before slapping some cash down on the table next to his empty glass. Not giving Johnny an opportunity to lodge any further complaints against him. Before he nodded his goodnight and slipped out of the bar. Mumbling something about needing to get back to his flat and check on some things.

Soap couldn’t get his mind around it. Ghost was elusive, sure, but again; something seemed off. He was calm, cool, and collected. Wouldn’t be caught dead manifesting his impatience physically. The fidgeting and twitching in his seat. The first place Soap’s mind went was maybe Ghost was dying? That’d be the only reasonable explanation for his behavior. But even then, it seemed a bit extreme.

The next day after the debrief, which was nearly as brutal as the deployment itself, Soap was still so in his head about Ghost’s behavior he almost didn’t notice the pretty nurse who seemed to be waiting for someone at the end of the hall. In fact, he was so stuck in his own mind, he only caught a fleeting glimpse of Ghost’s back rounding the corner with the nurse at his side. Hushed conversation disappearing with them. A softer, much more pleasant voice than Simon’s.

He debated whether or not to follow them, maybe answer the questions that’d been plaguing his mind. Ultimately, he decided in favor of it. Padding down the hall behind the duo who seemed to be headed back to Simon’s office. They weren’t walking closely enough to touch, but Soap immediately picked up on the tension between them. Like the distance was serving some sort of purpose.

Soap lingered in the hallway for a few minutes after the two disappeared into Ghost’s office, trying to sort the pieces of the puzzle he’d barely began collecting. He ultimately decided to go the route he was most comfortable with. Not one for sneaking about, he simply strode up to the office door and swung it open.

You were sat at one of the chairs in front of Simon’s desk, him standing with his arms folded over his chest next to you. Not compromising enough for Johnny’s taste, but he still put on a wide grin and nodded to you.

“Forget how to knock?”

Ghost’s voice was calm enough, but his eyes were shooting daggers straight through Johnny. You looked stiff as a board, chewing the inside of your lip through the tight smile you were giving him.

“Sorry, L.T. Needed to know if you’re still on for trainings this afternoon.”

He didn’t miss the way your eyes flicked to Ghost, communicating something that he couldn’t quite decipher wordlessly before you began studying your nails in your lap.

Ghost cleared his throat, rolling his tongue in his cheek. Growling something obscene under his breath. The agitation rolling off of him in waves.

“No. Got another assignment.”

And with that, Soap was all but thrown from the office. Querying about this ‘new assignment’ the whole way. Simon crowding him to the door until he finally snapped it shut on his nose.

He heard later that day Ghost was seen in medbay with a toolkit swearing at an X-Ray machine that had been giving you trouble for a month. After that, Soap was on the two of you like a fly on shit. Never missing an opportunity to bring you up to Ghost or vise versa. Mock-innocently saying something to Ghost in passing at dinner about you. Asking if he fancied you. When he said no, Johnny shrugged and nodded. Saying he was glad because he had plans to ask you out the next time he was injured.

That comment landed Soap in the bay sooner than expected. Escorting him to a different nurse’s exam area and standing guard the entire time his black eye was being iced. Berating him for not being able to block a few punches when they had sparred after dinner.

And Gaz, sweet boy that he is, was always more emotionally in-tune. Observant about the little things. Able to pick up on queues Soap and Price may have missed over the years. He was keen as he was quiet, keeping all his little discoveries to himself. Over the years, he’d created a small arsenal of moments he wasn’t sure were significant enough to bring up. Things he could have talked himself into imagining if he thought about them hard enough. Not wanting to jump to conclusions about anything.

But he noticed the incredibly subtle tan line on Ghost’s left hand. Noticed the way he tapped his foot impatiently when the debrief after a long deployment ran long. Noticed the way you always seemed to be around the yard when they touched down after a mission. The way your shoulders dropped when you saw all four of them had returned home. Like you had just been relieved the duty of holding up the sky.

He didn’t immediately connect the dots. Initially thinking that you’d just taken a special liking to the task force. They were some of your most frequent visitors, after all. Price had all but claimed you as their own. Specially requesting that you were the only one to patch their wounds, claiming the other nurses couldn’t hold a flame to your skill.

He didn’t mind. Came to enjoy the little chats the two of you had when the curtains around the cot were drawn. The little kikis you had where you chatted about anything and everything. Complaining about your jobs, irritating patients, botched missions, the morsels of gossip from around base.

One day, after a particularly nasty skirmish on a mission, all four of the men had gnarly wounds. You looked a bit more tired than usual. A bit more on-edge. Your answers were a bit more flat than they usually were. So the first part of the assessment was left mostly silent spare for a few soft “thank you’s” on his part.

It was only when you were bandaging a wound on his thigh did he notice the shape of a ring on your left hand under your glove. A thin band that wrapped neatly around your finger.

“Didn’t know you were married, doc.”

It was a passing comment, more just to spare him the agony of trying to hide his soft groans of pain in the thick silence.

You hummed your acknowledgment, focused more on working sutures through his skin neatly than anything else.

“Lucky bloke. Hope he’s good to you.”

It wasn’t flirty or predatory, like so many of the soldiers could be. A genuine thought. He’d always thought you were sweet. Easy to chat with, always offering him a smile and a chirped greeting when the two of you passed in the hall. Thought you deserved someone to share in your kindness.

You smiled, brow still furrowed slightly in your focus while tying off the stitches.

“He does alright.”

You chuckled softly, straightening on your stool and rolling back just slightly so you could meet his eye.

“All these years and you never mentioned. I’m hurt.”

He words came with a practiced ease, slipping back into your usual playful chatter without missing a beat. Flashing a coy grin as he carefully flexed and relaxed his leg. Getting a feel for the newly patched wound.

You rolled the gloves off your hands and tossed them into the bin. Standing from your stool to scribble a few notes on his chart.

“Not something that ever came up.”

“Now it has. He have a name? How long you been together?”

You chuckled once more, looking over your shoulder at him with an arched brow. A little skeptical of his curiosity.

“A good while.”

He noticed the way you evaded his former question, like you’d done it before. It only fueled his curiosity.

“You worried I’ll know him? Or are you embarrassed? Not much of a looker?”

This earned an amused snort from you, turning away from the chart you’d been working on.

“Nothing wrong with wanting to keep my personal life personal, is there?”

You winked at him, pushing open the curtain that divided the small exam area from the rest of the bay.

He made a small sound of protest, making no move to stand from the cot just yet.

“Alright, forget it. Didn’t even want to know anyway.”

He sounded like a child being denied a sweet. Even playing up the act with a small pout on his mouth.

You tutted softly, conjuring up the best mock-sympathetic look you could before motioning for him to stand.

“We’ll talk later. Captain’ll have my hide if I keep you away a moment longer than is necessary.”

Another sound of protest, followed by a throaty groan as he finally pushed up off the bed. Unsure if he was being dramatic or if the aftermath of the mission had truly gotten to him that bad. Always a flare for the dramatics, him.

He muttered his thanks, cupping your shoulder in his hand as he trudged out. Making you promise to have a proper chat with him later.

He lingered in the bay, allowing himself a few moments peace before getting back to work. Just as he finally turned to leave, he saw Ghost moving stiffly- like he was trying to downplay a limp- toward your little exam area. Though for some reason, the scene looked a bit strange to him. He couldn’t help but peek in.

He caught the way you watched him lumber over with big, worried eyes. The way your nails dug into your palms until he was finally within arms reach. The way you quickly glanced around to see if anyone was paying the two of you any attention before your hands flew to his neck, fingers slipping expertly under the hem of his mask and yanking it up over his nose. Not rough or angry, but with the kind of urgency that suggested you may die if you didn’t see a sliver of his skin. Make absolutely certain he was truly there with you.

The most jarring part- Ghost actually allowing you to touch the mask. Allowing your little hands to breach his personal space. Hands that would have easily been dwarfed by his own, swallowed up and twisted or shoved away like he had seen happen so many times in sparring matches with prospect soldiers. But Ghost just let it happen.

It was a flurry of movement, so fast that Gaz was certain he could have blinked and missed it. Frozen watching the two of you from just behind another exam area. Feeling like he was intruding without even meaning to.

And then he saw the way Ghost’s big arms snaked around your waist, drawing you flush to his front. You leaning up onto your toes to bring your face closer to the Lieutenant’s. A fervid kiss. You flinging your arms around his neck. The way your shoulders shook. A small, choked sob that Gaz was all but certain he imagined. Drowned out for everyone else by the sounds of the bay.

He was almost shocked that the world continued to move after that. Shocked that something that seemed so monumental could happen tucked away into your barely private exam area. Shocked that your reunion hadn’t halted time and space for everyone else like it had for the two of you.

He felt dirty. Like he should go up and apologize for lingering and seeing what he saw. But he stayed rooted to the spot, finding it impossible to move.

Truly the most damning part was when he caught the quickest glimpse of your badge just before the curtain was tugged shut. The badge you kept carefully pinned to your uniform face-down for a reason he couldn’t fathom until now. Twisted free for just a moment and finally connecting the snippets of information he’d collected over the years.

(Y/N Riley)

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sundrop-writes · 2 months

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if ur taking requests then how about female reader being a bau member and is receiving unwanted attention from the local cops but she cant pick up on social cues very well so it’s extra stressful for her to naviagte

Then enter protective and somewhat jealous jj that tries to protect her and shows her what true love and respect is with soft softdom!jj

I really like this, but I like the idea of it more as a short then a full fic, so... here we go.

JJ Being Protective of You - (Jennifer Jareau x Fem!Autistic!Reader)

Warnings: some harassing behaviour from a random male cop towards the reader; the man uses condescending pet names toward the reader; JJ goes full boss mode; use of the term L/N (as in 'Last Name') to refer to the reader; she reader uses she/her pronouns; the reader experiences a small accidental injury; pre-established relationship. Idk what else. Not proofread.

Paperwork. This is where you thrived. Much like Spencer, you loved a good paper trail.

You were currently in the back room of the police station, going through their old case files, looking at every case from the last forty years that had yet to be digitised. You were looking for previous murders that matched the signature of the killer the team was currently after, since the working theory was that the UnSub had 'taken on' the work of his father or another older figure in his life.

So you had to dig through all the files of unsolved murders and see if you could find a pattern stemming back - to see if you could find more killings that this father might have committed.

It was stuffy and dusty in the file room, but you were finding it to be the kind of work that you did best - your brain churning on all cylinders as you looked through the many files for all the markers in the killings that would have aligned with his killer. You put some files aside and closed the lid on a box, and then moved to a new stack, going to take down a box from 1973 - it was rather heavy and awkward to lift, but you could manage it.

"Oh, little lady, let me help you with that,"

Suddenly, someone appeared beside you, as if out of nowhere, and a second pair of hands began tugging on the box.

"I got it." You grunted out, tugging the box back in your direction, trying to get a better grip on it.

"Trust me, doll, someone like you shouldn't be lugging this crap around on your own." The man's voice argued, becoming slightly strained - angry?

Was he frustrated because it was too heavy for him to lift? Did he feel like he had to help because you looked weak and he was frustrated because of the social obligation?

"It's fine." You assured him, tugging on it again. But - he still wouldn't let go. "I'm stronger than I look, trust me."

That was something that Emily and Derek often joked about. You had used a shovel to break a double welded chain in order to get into a basement when a child was in danger. The police had been arguing about getting a warrant and talking about how they would need heavy duty bolt cutters to get through the chain away, and you were down there in minutes - and from then on, the team all agreed not to mess with you. Especially not in an emergency.

"Sweetie, just let go of it-"

His grip slipped off the box, and it went flying in the opposite direction then, and one of the sharp corners smacked you on the head - a piercing pain went through your whole forehead and and papers came flying out of the box, spilling across the floor and fluttering everywhere.

"Oh my god, ow!" You exclaimed loudly, stepping backward, raising a hand to your forehead toward the throbbing pain. You were alarmed when you felt wetness, and you quickly drew your fingers back and saw blood.

"Oh, goodness. I'm sorry, darlin'." The man appeared in front of you, and soon, completely unprompted, he put his hands on both of your cheeks, trying to lift your head to better inspect the cut. "See, that's why you shouldn't-"

"Don't touch me!" You screamed, reaching up inside of his forearms to shove his hands off you. Your skin was crawling with a terrible, icky itch where his hands had been touching you.

He became slack-jawed with shock at this.

"There's no need to shout." He chuckled. "Calm down."

"Ugh, no!" You shouted back.

You were suddenly feeling terribly trapped in the small, stuffy, dusty room, and though you knew that the papers needed to be cleaned up and you needed to finish your fishing expedition for the trail of murders - you had to leave. You needed air.

You needed JJ.

You shoved past the man and your feet carried you as fast as you could go, frantically looking for that head of blonde hair.

"Listen, babydoll, just calm down-"

"Woah, woah, her name is not babydoll."

That voice. Your hero.

You blinked past a haze if tears you hadn't even noticed was forming, and saw the pale blue shirt and blonde hair that you knew was her - you ran to stand behind her, grabbing her hand tightly, which she gripped back, grounding you, letting you know that she was right there.

"I'm not sure what kind of slack operation you people run around here, but we are professionals. You are going to refer to her by her full title, Special Agent L/N - or you won't talk to her at all. You won't even look at her. Do you understand me?" JJ barked at him.

The pure authority dripping from her voice made you feel so utterly safe.

"Listen, m'am, I'm not sure-"

"It's not 'm'am', it's Agent." JJ corrected him, now straining through her teeth, absolutely seething. "We are here representing the FBI, trying to catch a very dangerous man to help keep your town safe. We're not just little secretaries skittering around to get you your coffee and clean up after you. Just because we're women, we're not here to wipe your ass!"

You heard a chuckle from behind you, and you thought it was Emily's voice. This was followed by a low whistle - probably Derek.

"Is that clear?" JJ finished off, daring the man to talk back to her.

The man sighed and turned around to leave, finally defeated. This is when JJ turned to you.

"Are you okay?" She asked, her voice much softer now. "Oh my god, what happened to your head?"

"There was... a box..." You mumbled quietly, still feeling shaken up.

"He hit you with a box?" JJ snapped, looking back in the direction he had walked off.

"JJ, please." You begged, quietly, squeezing her hand, directing her attention back to you.

She knew what her priority was right now.

"Come on,"

JJ walked you to the bathroom, and as she was cleaning up the cut with a damp paper towel, she was still huffing hard through her nose, the anger still pumping through her.

"I'm going to find that guy's supervisor, I'm going to put in a report about him, I'm going to-"

"It's okay, JJ." You said, reaching out to run a gentle hand along her lower back. "I'm pretty sure he's not gonna come near me again after what you said."

She let out a snort of laughter, and half her mouth upturned in a smile. You both knew that she could be incredibly intimidating despite her looks, and she always protected you - just one of the many things that had attracted you to her in the first place.

"Yeah, well... nobody comes near my girl and gets away with it."

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #jennifer jareau #autistic reader #jennifer jareau x reader #jj x reader #jennifer jareau x you

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runicarbiter02 · 1 year

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Helllooo! Request are open and I'm running over here. Can I request hdc for alejandro vargas and ghost, being jealous because there crush is a little bit touching with another men. Thank youu honey.

A/N: This is definitely an interesting one! I'd be happy to write these for you, since you specifically specified them, I'll just do them for this one. :) I hope you enjoy, darling! I'm still learning how to write for Ale, so I apologize if he's a bit OOC! Also, thank you all for over 1,000 notes on my first headcanon request! I am so, so happy you all are liking the post! ~ Hannah

ALEJANDRO VARGAS

I imagine with Alejandro, this would be a slow burn friends to lovers sort of situation. You, Alejandro, and Rudy have all been friends since you all joined up together. Alejandro has always been on the flirtier side with most people, which is why whenever he flirts with you, you don't tend to think much of it. That's just who he is, right?

Los Vaqueros had just gotten a new member, a young, handsome man in his mid-twenties. He's conventionally attractive and funny, which some of the other women definitely admire, but your thoughts are elsewhere. Unfortunately - or fortunately, if you look at it a certain way - you were assigned to show him around the base and get him up to speed.

Cut to the both of you in the mess hall on base, chattering away. Alejandro sees the both of you, and his blood boils. Who does this hijo de puta think that he is?

What really pisses him off is when the young man leans in, saying something that makes you laugh and you playfully shove him away with a coy smile. Alejandro quickly storms out, furious with the young man, but furious with himself for getting so upset.

He doesn't realize you follow him out until he feels your hand on his shoulder.

"Ale? What's wrong, hermano?" If only you knew how much he hated that nickname coming from your lips.

When he turns, one look at how concerned you are, and all his frustrations come spilling from his lips. He's just about to brush it off as him being silly when you don't respond right away before a laugh is erupting from you.

"Ale, he's not into me. He's just friendly. I thought he was flirting with me earlier, but he let me know that he's no even interested in sexual stuff. He's ace," You reassure, and suddenly, Alejandro feels ridiculously stupid. But that falls aside when you stand on your toes and brush a kiss to his cheek. "Now come on, cariño, you need to eat." His eyes follow you as you return to the mess hall, and he's stunned into silence.

Maybe he feels a little less bad about getting jealous.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

This man hates his jealousy. Despises it.

But, it's a part of him nonetheless, and it's something he has to live with.

I imagine it as quiet, little things around base that really gets to him: you're a medic, a really good one at that, and the men absolutely love you for how kindly you treat them all. You have patience, but you aren't afraid to bark orders at them if they're acting out of place.

"MacTavish, if you rip your stitches one more time, I'll kick your ass into next fucking week." "Captain, I don't care if you have more paperwork to do, get your ass in bed before I drag you there myself." "Hold still or I will personally strap you to this cot myself, rookie."

Your feisty nature and take-no-shit attitude is absolutely what drew him to you initially. Cue almost a year of pining on his end, and on your end, but not to his knowledge.

The final straw that ultimately cracks his resolve is a young sergeant that is trying to flirt with you while you stitch up a bullet wound on his side. It's obvious you're just being polite as you accept his compliments and hum in response at his attempts at flirting, but it still rubs Simon the wrong way.

Simon's jealousy is quiet, boiling, settling in the center of his chest. Every touch of yours against the sergeant's skin merely stokes the flames, but he does nothing, continuing to brood in the corner. He waits until you're done, shooing the young man off with a half-assed threat of harm if he ruins his stitches. That's when you finally notice him.

"Ghost, what have I told you about lurking in my med bay?" You tease softly before taking note of the hard look in his eyes. Slowly, you put two and two together, chuckling softly. "Ah, I see. C'mere, big guy."

He isn't mad. Not at all. All he can think about is that young man, who has all he doesn't: charm, good looks, youth, and the blessing of a childhood unscarred by a demon of a father. Simon isn't so lucky.

He can't stop himself as he follows your instructions, stepping into your office and taking a seat at your desk as you close the door. You sit on top of your desk and smile down at him before you hold out your hand expectantly. He furrows his brows but gives you his hand anyway, grumbling something about how he "doesn't know where your filthy mitts have been."

As soft kisses are pressed to his knuckles, however, he goes quiet. "Silly, jealous man. Can't even see that I look at you the same way you look at me. Eyes of a hawk, my ass," You tease.

He turns every shade of red beneath his damn balaclava, and you're damn certain to tease him about it as he melts back into the seat.

Hijo de puta - Son of a bitch

Hermano - Brother

Cariño - Honey; dear

TAGLIST

@floral-force

#alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 2022 #cod mw2 #cod imagine #cod x reader #cod headcanons #runic writes

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queer-little-demigod · 14 days

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Hi lea!!!! Can you write about an clarisse la true x apollo!reader

Clarisse got in trouble for something (what's new tho) and got a punishment of helping out with the little demigods art class for 2 weeks (or however long) the volunteer teacher is reader. At first Clarisse did NOT wanna be there she acted like a baby for the first few days but after she got more involved and started to understand she enjoyed it (she would never admit it), she started talking to the kids more (she totally has favorites, reader has to constantly tell her dont be so obvious about her favorites 😭) it got to a point where the kids would start talking to her outside of class. Also Clarisse definitely doesn't develop a crush on reader. AT ALL. SHE DEFINITELY HATES HOW PASSIONATE SHE IS ABOUT THE KIDS AND ART AND HOW GOOD SHE IS WITH KIDS SHE DOESN'T THINK ITS CUTE AT ALL. SHE DOESNT THINK OF THAT CLASS AS ONE BIG FAMILY. I mean what???? Who said that???

Anyways when it's time for her to go reader takes some of the kids to make a goodbye sign for clarisse; clarisse takes her 100% not favorite kid on a secret mission to make an 'I'm staying' sign. Then reader and Clarisse present them at the same time and it's all cutesy!! After class, reader asks clarisse on a date via showing her a pain she drew of them on a date and hopes she gets the message!

Thank you! :)

you got an artist inside you - clarisse la rue

summary where clarisse finds herself falling in love with a girl over paintbrushes and a punishment

fic type fluff

pairing clarisse la rue x fem!apollo!reader

word count 1.8k

warnings none

The camp was usually sleepy, quiet, and mostly empty apart from a few stray campers training here and there. But with summer already beating down with a burning force, it was full of kids running around, training left right and center, and all-in-all just general chaos.

So with the burning heat came grumpy older campers, which meant fights.

And a fight at lunch is what led to Clarissa having to help the younger campers with art class, with the co-teacher being none other than you, Y/n L/n, counsellor of the Apollo cabin. Additionally and otherwise known as the girl Clarisse was smitten with.

"Clarisse La Rue if you don't stop whining like that right now, I am going to smack you," you grumbled in utter frustration for the fifth time that hour, when she complained to you about some kid not cutting the paper the way it was supposed to be cut.

For a child of the god of war, she was such a wuss sometimes.

"But they're not following-" she began to protest, but a smack upside the head with a roll of wrapping paper shut her up.

"They're seven year olds in a summer camp art class," you emphasised on those facts. "They're gonna do their own thing!"

This was how the first few days went. She complained, you disciplined both her and the kids. But once she got used to the whole routine of you both giving instructions and the final products having irritatingly distinct variations, she cooled down.

If this was going to be a punishment for the next two weeks, she might as well enjoy it.

The art room, as usual, was a mess. Glitter was everywhere, coloured pencils were strewn around, papers were on the floor, blackened and trampled on. The strong scent of glue made everyone a bit woozy, and there was enough shouting for supplies across the table to give even the calmest camper a sensory overload.

Clarisse sat in the danger zone where the most glitter was being thrown around and spilled, and her soft skin was already glimmering with purple and red glitter as she tried restoring order. However, instead of yelling as usual she was laughing along with the little kids.

One kid in particular, you noticed, she helped far more than the others. A Hephaestus kid named Dennis, who was the sweetest little thing with big, round glasses and bronze hearing aids that you had Charlie customise so they looked like metal elf ear tips.

You pulled Clarissa aside and scolded her with a smile, “Clar, you cannot pick favourites!”

Clarissa loved your smile with everything she had. So naturally, she was so captivated by it that she didn't hear you the first time. Nor did she register the scolding.

"Excuse me, but Dennis deserves special treatment--" She began, but you cut her off.

"No, he's just like the other kids, okay? Just make sure you don't pick favourites, please," you sighed and walked away, going back to showing the kids how to make paper butterflies.

But you're my favourite, she thought to herself. She wished she had the courage to say it out loud, admit her feelings for you, but she couldn't.

Later, as time went by, as days of standing in clouds of glitter and glue fumes began and ended, Clarisse found that she was apparently likeable. After classes, during training, during dinner, she'd have little kids pulling her sleeve to talk to her, she'd have kids randomly hugging her at odd times of the day, or giving her small artworks like a wonky bird or a odd-looking Cerebrus. It shocked the campers beyond belief.

But for you it just made your love for her grow.

One day during class, a Demeter kid named Flora started to cry because glitter went into her eye. You rushed over immediately and helped her up, holding her in your arms as you took her to the basin to clean her up.

"Shh, don't cry, baby, it's okay, I'm gonna wash it out, alright?" You said softly.

"Guys, focus on your work, Flo's fine," Clarisse said, clapping her hands to direct the staring kids back to work, her eyes fixed on you as you washed Flora's eyes with water gently, telling her that she should not to go so close to the page when blowing glitter off in the softest voice the child of war had ever heard.

You were so gentle, like the softest summer breeze which didn't make the leaves rustle, but cooled one's warming skin. You were so precious, with your soft smile and loving words. Your voice was sweet like honey, no matter who you talked to or how.

If your voice was bottled, she swore to the gods that she'd get drunk on it every night.

"You okay, champ?" She asked, gently ruffling Flora's soft brown hair as the girl sat down. "You're a strong girl, aren't you? Showed that stupid glitter it's place."

You giggled at the way she spoke, covering your mouth with your hand to hide it. It was ridiculously obvious that Clarisse thought the kids in the art class were like family, and it was genuinely so adorable.

Seeing her like this, curly hair pulled back in her red bandanna, arms splattered with paint here and there, with glitter shining off her smooth caramel skin with every movement she made into the light, lit up something inside of you. Seeing her without her usual scowl, pulling funny faces with the kids as she showed them how to draw a monster, made your heart beat twice as fast.

However, two weeks went by with heartbreaking speed, and before she knew it, she was in Chiron's office, listening to him gleefully say she was officially un-grounded.

But honestly? She didn't share his happiness.

Nor did you.

"What?! Already!?" You exclaimed that evening as you sat in your cabin at your desk, which had plans put out for what to make for the next art class.

"Yeah," she grumbled, lounging on your bed. "I hate it."

"That's rough, but it's okay, you can always hop in to volunteer,"

"What do we tell the little ones?"

"The truth?"

"You're fucking crazy if you think they'll go with it,"

"I'm out of options, Clar," you leaned back in your chair and put your hands over your eyes. "I love that class, and I love teaching art."

"I know, and as much as I hate to admit it," she sat up. "So do I."

The very next day, Clarisse rushed to Chiron and begged him to let her stay for that class. Even going to lengths that she told him how she felt for you.

"Fine," he relented. "You can stay with the class for as long as you'd like,"

She'd never run to the forges to find a kid so fast.

"Beckendorf!" She exclaimed, looking at the cabin counselor. "Hey, where's Dennis?"

The boy looked around, and his eyes landed on Dennis, who was inquisitively watching one of his half-sisters mold a few practice swords, helping occasionally with putting the swords in water.

"Dennis!" Beckendorf exclaimed, "Clarisse wants to talk to you!"

Dennis immediately ran over, grinning broadly, showing his gap-toothed smile. "Hi, Clarisse!" He said, excitedly.

"Hey there, big boy!" She smiled back, giving him a high five. "So listen, I'm going to need your insane artistic skills and your help..."

While you did help the other kids make a 'goodbye' sign for Clarisse, on the side you decided to confront your feelings.

You knew you liked her from the beginning, from when you first saw her infectious smile, from when you heard her deep laugh reverberating through the empty Apollo cabin on days where you both would plan lessons.

She held the key to your heart, she knew her way past your walls. She clearly also knew how to remain in your thoughts, subconscious and conscious, to the point where you found yourself in the art studio, canvas on an easel before you.

Thoughts of her, of feeling her coarse, battle-worn hands on your skin, of gazing into those deep brown eyes which were like the colour of the rain-kissed earth, and when she fought were like the evening sun, golden enough to put the wings of Icarus to shame, made your paintbrush move. It made your colours flow like the blood in your veins, made each stroke perfect enough to create the scene you most desired on the canvas in front of you.

You stepped back once you felt the need to express yourself flow away, gazing at the canvas. A scene it held, and what a scene indeed. The sky was cornflower blue, a cloudless day, with the sun’s rays shining down on a big oak tree. The leaves were paler as the golden light kissed the surface, casting sharp shadows on the pillowy grass.

But then there was vivid orange and red, a flash of bronze. In the foreground there sat both you and Clarisse, the latter having more detail than any part of the drawing.

Then the dreaded day came where you all had to say goodbye to her.

The little ones were devastated, not letting Clarisse go anywhere without following her around like baby ducklings, making her explain to them that she's not going away from camp, she's just not going to teach them anymore.

At the end of the final class, just as everyone unveiled the 'we'll miss you' poster, she and Dennis revealed their 'I'm Staying' poster, causing a loud, thunderous cheer to erupt from all of you.

Later, you pulled her aside to give her your canvas painting.

Nerves wracked your body, your palms began to sweat.

When was the last time you had felt this nervous? It was probably your cello recital the day you had come to camp...

"Holy shit, Y/n this looks absolutely amazing!" Clarisse exclaimed, taking the painting in her hands.

She didn't miss the detail you had given her, drawing her angelically, despite her thinking she was the opposite. It was so well done that the brush strokes weren't even visible.

Please get the message, you blockheaded, oblivious fool...you thought.

Deciding to act against your nerves, you asked her in a shaky voice, "That's a painting of us on a date...would you like to go on one with me sometime?"

Clarisse's heart stopped. Had you just asked her out on a date?

She was at a loss for words, they didn't touch her tongue, nor did they pass her lips. She stood there, speechless, gaping at you for a moment too long.

"I mean, I get it, you're probably not even a les--" you began, but a pair of gentle lips on yours silenced your words.

Sparks flew, butterflies went haywire, your brain short-circuited. You didn't know what to doo, just stood there frozen with shock. Kissing the girl you had liked for the last few months now.

Clarisse, however, was ecstatic. Her mind was a burst of colour, her body was ablaze. She felt like she had wings, and her heart was taking her up, up, up.

Once she pulled away, she winked at your blushing face and dopey grin.

"It's a date, L/n."

hi, it's me! lea! i hope you enjoyed this long overdue oneshot <3 requests are open via dms or asks!

#clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue fluff #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue #x fem!reader #first request #requested #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #you got an artist inside you #fluff imagine

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sunflower-lilac42 · 5 months

Text

✧ 𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | the hughes brothers ♔

summary: the hughes brothers are made aware of everything they’ve missed in their little sister’s career and everything she hasn’t in theirs.

warnings: feelings of being unwanted, siblings missing important things

notes: part two of 'unwanted feelings'. this takes place at the end of the 25-26 season/she’s one year younger than Luke. i love this so much! i'm so glad you guys have been liking my fics especially my hockey ones. i have had so much motivation and i'm excited for break so i can write more.

part one (unwanted feelings) | nhl masterlist | main masterlist

This is where she drew the line. It sucked, it really did. She thought they weren’t even going to make it. It was her college graduation and her parents had broken the news of the possibility of the three not being there, scheduling conflict so there was nothing they could do.

It was the playoffs and both the Devils and Canucks were contenders with a good chance of making it. She knew this from the beginning of April. But now that it wa sso close to graduation, she knew there was a chance they weren’t going to make it. And if they did, there was a chance they’d have to leave right after the ceremony.

All of her life she’s always said to herself that it was okay and that it wasn’t their fault. And she knew they had no control over which days they played and whether or not they won or lost, it was a team. But deep down, she wanted to blame them. She wanted to blame them for being good at hockey, she wanted to blame them for being first round picks, she wanted to blame them for being apart of good teams, she wanted to blame them for everything. Yet, that wasn’t who she was.

She pushed all of those thoughts aside because they were her brothers. She wanted them to have everything they wanted. She couldn’t possibly be mad at them, but right now, she was fuming.

She stood with her friends waiting to walk out into Michigan Stadium for her last time. She was a nervous ball of energy and she couldn’t help but look at her phone constantly to see the text from their parents to say they made it.

Walking out into the stadium in her graduation gown and cap, y/n’s nervousness didn’t ease. What if she tripped? What if she messed up her speech? What if she made a complete and utter fool of herself? What if they weren’t here?

She sat on the stage they had made waiting to say her speech and she looked out into the audience, not really listening to the words that the president said. Her watch buzzed and she tried to be discreet about reading it, ‘They just got here.’

She scanned the crowd seeing he rmothers words even though she knew that the possibility of her seeing them was slim to none. She continued to wait impatiently and before she knew it she was standing up and making her way over to the podium.

In the stadium seats, Jack sat next to his mom and leaned over, “I didn’t know she was giving a speech.”

Ellen shrugged and said something with an underlying meaning, “Maybe if you were around a bit more you’d know more things.” Jack furrowed his eyebrows and pulled back from her, he tried to think of some reason on why she would say that but came up empty.

Ellen knew y/n’s speech inside and out and she knew what was coming. Her daughter amde her sit on the phone with her as she read it and revised it for almost a month straight. She could give the speech herself at this point. She watched her daughter play with her fingers nervously before setting them on the podium and flipping through her notecards that she told her that she didn’t need but she didn’t listen anyways, making sure that if she forgot it she had them.

“From a young age, I had always been labeled the outcast. It started out as a joke in my family and eventually more and more people recognized it. Hockey was a big deal in my family from my parents to my older brothers but ran out when it got to me. I have no talent on the ice, I always slept and fell, causing me to be somewhat scared of it.

“That’s where the label came from. ‘How could such a talented, atheltic family include you in it?’ My mom and dad always told me differently. I was talented, just on the field in a non athletic way instead of the ice. I found my home in the band room where all the other outcast and loners fit in. It wasn’t always a big deal for me.

“I spent most days of my life in a hockey arena. The blue and red lines engraved into my mine that I couldn’t forget them even if I tried. I sat next to my mom as I watched my brothers score goals, get assists, get checked into the boards that I wasn’t phased when it happened anymore. I was always there for them.

“I was there for the big moments; when Quinn got drafted to Vancouver, when Jack and Luke got drafted to New Jersey. I was there for each of their debuts, when Quinn and Jack played each other for the first time. I was there for the smaller achievements; the games no one else cared about when they were 12, 10, and 8. When they got a medal for participation, when they got a trophy for their team winning in a peewee hockey league.

“I don’t remember the games I went to, I remember the games I didn’t go to. The ones where Jack fell on the ice, the one where Luke got shoved into the boards and Jack had some- choice words we can say, Quinn’s first game as captain, Quinn’s first win as captain.” Y/n had to stop herself from crying before she moved on.

“The one where the three made history of all three playing each other and I had a panic attack because I was worried that they would be mad at me because I wasn’t there so they spent two hours on the phone with me to calm me down. Those are what I remember.”

Ellen eyed her sons to see both sad and happy expressions on their faces. She knew these next words were going to tear them down.

“But what I also remember are the concerts that they never went to because they had just gotten home from practice or from a game and they were too tired. I didn’t mind, the concerts weren’t as important to me as they were. I moved on. I remember the football games that they didn’t go to because it was friday night and they would rather be somewhere else than watching their little sister play in a high school marching band at a high school football game. I moved on, who cares about high school football anyways.

“I remember my senior night that they weren’t there because they were at school or in the NHL and they had better and bigger things to do. I moved on because their careers were more important. I remember my last concert in high school that they weren’t because of the same reasons. I moved on like I always do.

“When I got to University of Michigan, it was a different story. I met my best friend, y/f/n and I realized that no matter everyone who missed these things there was always somebody there that I cared about there. My parents were at every concert they could be at. My parents were at every football game, at every showcase, at every talent show I was in.

“Y/f/n was there for my college concerts, though I don’t know if she was really there for me or for her boyfriend but I still count it.” This elicits laughs from the crowd and y/n could hear her best friend laughing even from where she stood, “She was there at the football games with a custom jersey with ‘Hughes’ on the back, my name under it so everyone knew that it was me she was cheering for, and my favorite number on it.

“She was there to listen to me complained about being out of tune everyday and hating the way I played during a class. She was there when I had practice claiming that she had no one to hang out with and that she didn’t mind sitting in a room for hours listening to me mess up time and time again. She was there for everything.

“University of Michigan is where I found my home, where I found the true meaning of friendship, where I wasn’t just some outcast of my family just because I couldn’t skate on ice. University of Michigan taught me how to love myself for being different, albeit my parents helped in that too. University of Michigan is where I made the friends that I know will be there for me through anything and everything. This college is where I found my place. And I will forever be grateful for it.

“This was a story I hadn’t told anyone in my life. I didn’t want anyone to get any hate from it because I loved, and still do love them. It wasn’t their fault tehy had a game, it wasn’t their fault they had practice, it wasn’t their fault they were good at hockey, it wasn’t there fault they got drafted. They were simply being them and I was simply being me. A girl who loved her family despite everything. And I am still that little girl.

“But deep down is the girl who got crushed everytime she looked up into the audience or the stands and didn’t see those three faces looking back at me. But it’s okay, I moved on. I moved on to become what I am today, and I couldn’t be more grateful for those moments.” She didn’t want to end the speech on a sad note, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Yet, in the back of her mind there was something nagging at her to say more, so she did.

“I’m not someone who likes quotes, but I have to admit I didn’t know how to write this speech. I turned to google for my help and they said to put a quote in here. I think some quotes, mostly the famous ones, are overused and cringy. But my favorite hockey, besides my mom, is Wayne Gretzky. And no, this isn’t the famous ‘You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take’. This is a quote that I had found when trying to write this speech, one where I wouldn’t have done this if it wasn’t for him saying it.

“Wayne Gretzky, one of the greatest, if not the greatest, hockey players to ever live, once said, ‘Procrastination is one of the most common and deadliest of diseases and its toll on success and happiness is heavy’. And it’s true, telling this story right here, right now has lifted a weight off my chest I didn’t even know I had. I want to say one last thank you to the University of Michigan for these psat four years and giving me a load of new friends.”

Y/n waved her hand as she finished and walked back to her seat listening to the applause and light cheers from the crowd with a smile on her face.

Jim and Ellen eyed them throughout the speech but when they took this last glance at them they saw the three of them with tears either falling or still in their eyes. The boys truly didn’t mean to make their sister feel like this, they didn’t want their sister to feel like this. And this was entirely their fault.

✧༺✎༻∞

When the ceremony finished, the graduates exited and so did everyone else. Parents and families running about trying to find their kids. Y/n stood with her friends and took pictures with them, taking pictures of them with their family when asked to. She didn’t mind waiting for anyone and in reality, she wasn’t ready to face her brothers just yet.

It took 20 minutes to find her. Getting out of Michigan stadium wasn’t easy any time they were in there and this was no exception. Y/n was standing by her best friend when they found her. They were laughing and talking about something completely random when Jack came up and hugged her.

She jumped in surprise when she felt the boy hug her, turning around and hugging him back, “Hey Jack. Nice job last night.”

Y/n held a smile on her face but when Jack pulled back and she saw the tears not only in his eyes but her other brothers as well, it dropped. She turned to y/b/f and waved her off with a nod of reassurance and she walked away.

“What’s wrong?” Ellen and Jim stepped away to give their children some space as they talked.

“We’re sorry.” Quinn spoke, stepping in front of his two brothers.

“For what?” Y/n was genuinely confused. When she wrote that speech she never really thought about how her brothers would feel.

“What do you mean ‘for what’?” Jack asked in his all too familiar sassy tone.

“Jack. What we mean is that we’re sorry for everything that we have done, or well didn’t do. We’re sorry we didn’t go to your concert, or games, ro your senior night. We don’t really have an excuse.”

“It’s okay you guys, it doesn’t bother me anymore. I’m just glad you were able to make it today.”

“It might not bother you, but it bothers us y/n/n. We’ve missed so many of your achievements and we didn’t even think about how it impacted you.”

“Guys, I promise you it’s okay. Now if you missed my graduation, there would’ve been some hands thrown.”

The three let out laughs, tears still somewhat in their eyes and the thoughts still eating them up. They didn’t biy her words but for this moment, they didn’t wnat to bring it up. It was supposed to be a happy day and right now y/n seemed happy, she was happy, and they didn’t want to ruin it.

Seeing the four of them give each other hugs, their parents walked back over to give their daughter hugs as well. They took pictures much like every other graduate and their family here. They went out to dinner at y/n’s favorite restaurant and talkd about random nonesense.

These feelings that y/n had harbored for years were finally uncovered and she couldn’t be more happier and prouder than herself for doing it.

𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

if your name is crossed out it means i couldn't tag you

@jasminecaskry85 | @lilyevanswhore

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blackbat05 · 11 months

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Real or Not Real?

Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Plot: You need a plus one for a wedding. Who better than your boss and perhaps the most hated person on your list.

Genre: PG-13, Enemies to Lovers (I would like to think so😬)

A/N: I’m on a roll. Also, I always wanted to do this trope! This is longer than usual. Reblogs and feedback appreciated!💜

“Shit!” Your phone bounces off the bed, landing inches away from another expensive repair.

“What’s wrong?” Jessica Drew looks up from the self help book that she was currently engaged in.

“An old classmate. I totally forgot about the wedding!” You groan, feet becoming more fidgety by the second.

“Right… and would you care to explain why you look like one of Norman Osborn’s pumpkins?” Your best friend looks at you cautiously, as if like you were a volcano waiting to explode any second.

“Well, she used to be great with everyone in school. Can’t say the same about myself.” You winced internally at the memories about your youth. “You know how it is. Everyone is either rich, successful or in love once they leave school.”

“Or maybe all three.” Jessica adds helpfully much to your chagrin.

“Thanks, Jess.” You refrain from rolling your eyes. “Anyways, the chat group got reignited and some genius started asking about ‘the girl who everyone always see but doesn’t really know’ and before I know it, everyone starts pestering me about how I’m doing!” You throw your hands dramatically in the air and Jessica can’t help but to look amused. “So?”

“So, I kinda told them that I have a reallyhotboyfriend.” The last few words are mashed into one big mess but still clear enough for Jessica to pick up. “You what now?”

Smelling the judgement from a mile away, you hang your head in defeat. “I know! I’m an idiot! I couldn’t help myself okay? This is what happens when you attend a private all girls’ school. You stand out for being weird and suddenly The Plastics start making your entire school life hell.”

“The Plastics?”

“It’s a movie reference.”

“Why am I not surprised.” Jessica chuckles. “So what now girl? How’s damage control going?”

“Terrible.” You splat face first into the pillow. “I was thinking of getting help from the guys but…” You hold up four fingers, ticking them off one by one. “Pavitr can’t pretend, Hobie’ too unpredictable, Miles is too young and Peter’s married with a child - a fact I can’t ignore even if this is fake.”

Jessica looks at your closed fingers, tapping her chin thoughtfully. If being friends with her taught you anything, this wasn’t a good sign.

“There is one more option. I think he would fit your description of a really hot boyfriend.” She deliberately gives you a meaningful look that makes you leap off the bed, throwing her an accusing look.

“Actually, I think I’m going to ask Gwen. Do you know where I can find her?”

“Long gone. She went to visit Captain Stacey.” Jessica quips. “Come on. He’s a good option. Besides, this is a great opportunity to know him better!”

“I rather tangle with the loch-ness monster instead.” You mumble, thinking about your very first encounter with the man of the hour - Miguel O’Hara. The two of you were a good representation of day and night.

While you were bright and upbeat, the leader of the Spider Society probably didn’t have the word ‘joy’ in his dictionary. As you attempted to introduce yourself to him at your first meeting, he had simply brushed you aside.

“Miguel isn’t that bad once you get to know him.”

“Very funny, Jess. You should be comedian of the year. Did you forget how he yelled at me when I pushed him out of the way from Kingpin’s gangbangers?”

Jessica opens her mouth slightly, only to shut it soon after. You frown, turning your back to see whatever she was staring at behind you. How you wished you hadn’t. Oh, if only the ground could swallow you whole as Miguel himself stands at the door, staring at you with an unreadable expression.

“What- how long have you been here for?” You struggle to form that one sentence. “Jess…” You start accusingly.

Jessica shrugs, taking Miguel’s presence as a sign to leave. “I’ll leave you two to it!” She gives you a wink that results in your mouth hanging agape. Miguel closes the door and you quickly attempt to compose yourself.

“I’ll do it.”

“Do what?”

Miguel raises a brow. “Be your date.” He says it all too nonchalantly, as if choosing at empanada at the supermarket. You blink, pinching yourself out of his sight. The situation was very real. He stands in front of you, waiting.

“What do you want from me?” You blurt out. “You want something in return.” You clarify once more, trying to make sense of things.

The end of Miguel’s lips turn upwards slightly, and you’re worried that the sudden acceleration of your heart would unable to support your body to stand upright.

“I just want to apologize for my behavior and I happened to overhear your conversation.” He responds and you make a mental note to never trust Jessica again for not warning you about his presence.

“Am I in some kind of alternate dimension?” You laugh, trying to defuse the awkwardness. Miguel remains impassive, eyes staring intently into yours.

“What’s it going to be? You can take me or you can look like a liar to everyone. It’s your choice.”

You hate to say it, but he’s right.

***

“You came!” Your old friend comes barreling into you, giving you a big hug.

“Lils! You look amazing!” You gushed, returning the hug. “Congratulations. What a beautiful place.” You refer to the beachside wedding that she insisted on.

“Thanks! Jeju Island was always on my bucket list. I’m so glad I get to share this memory with all of you!” She gushes, turning to your plus one. “I mean, I finally get to see who has stolen your heart!” She extends a hand. “And who may you be?”

“Miguel O’Hara.” He extends his own hand for a shake. “Congratulations.”

“No need for the formalities!” Lilly smiles brightly. “What I do want to know is how you two got together! You can be away from her for a little can’t you?”

Before the two of you can even say anything, you find yourself being pulled away by Lilly while the groom effortlessly picks up the conversation with Miguel. She brings you aside, within the sight of the two men.

“Tell me everything!” She pounces on you like a tiger, demanding to know your first encounter. You give what you hope was a easy smile. “We’re… colleagues.” You don’t think exposing both your superhero personas would do well, not especially when you got here by inter dimensional traveling.

Your friend seems to be satisfied by this as she squeals. She hits your shoulder a little too aggressively, wanting more. You sigh, hoping that Miguel wasn’t being interrogated this intensively on his end.

“We just had the same interests and kind of clicked.” You prayed that the questioning would stop soon. “Everything was just a blur after.”

Lilly nods, throughly invested in your fake love story. She’s about to ask another question when a sharp voice pierced through the air, causing you to be rooted to the ground. You really wanted to run away at that moment.

“What is this that I’m hearing? You’re actually seeing someone?” The clack of heels come to a stop and you find yourself facing your tormentor.

“It’s nice to see you too, Becca.” You grit through your teeth. The woman remains oblivious to your discomfort as she addresses the two others trailing behind her. “I wonder who’s the lucky man nice enough to pick her up!”

“That’s enough, I invite you to my wedding out of our friendship but this doesn’t give you the right to insult her.” Lilly shoots back, keeping her eyes trained on your curled fists.

“It’s alright, Lils.” You try to remain calm. “Let’s go. I’ll tell you everything later.” You take the lead to escort her back when Becca’s comment brings you to a halt.

“I bet he isn’t even real!”

Although she was right, you couldn’t help but to turn around, wanting to give Becca and her posse a piece of your mind. Something that you should have done a very long time ago.

“Oh, I’m very real alright.”

You see Miguel walking up towards the trio. Was it just you or did Miguel look… angry?

He composes himself, giving a charming grin to the trio who looked like they were going to start falling at his feet any moment.

“Miguel O’Hara. She has told me a lot about you three.”

“Oh, she has?” Becca twirls the edge of her skirt nervously and you don’t know where Miguel is going with this.

“Sure. She’s told me all about how you three dimwits made her entire life hell. Honestly? I don’t even know how that happened when she’s a hundred times classier with more substance than you plastics claim to have.” Miguel catches your eye and gives a quick wink.

“Excuse me?” Becca stutters. “Oh, I get it. She must have paid you to say that!”

Miguel walks over and gently loops an arm over your shoulders. By now, the conversation seemed to have attracted every guest who were lining up at the buffet table.

“Nope. But you know what she is? She is the most courageous and selfless person who wouldn’t hesitate to help others. I don’t think you three would even come close to understanding what that means.”

Miguel has done it. He’s left them speechless and every guest is know giving disapproving looks to the trio who can only storm away in embarrassment.

“I think I’m not that hungry yet. How about we take a walk?”

You realize that Miguel is asking you, so you nod numbly and find yourself being led out of the venue. You see Lilly standing at the entrance greeting guests.

Catching your eyes, she gives you a thumbs up and a mischievous grin, not bothered at all about the verbal altercation that was inadvertently caused by you. Amidst the chaos, one thought was clear in your mind.

Just what is going on?

***

The rainbow colored blocks providing as seats for families, friends and couples to take photos makes the sea look even clearer. Silence overtaking the two of you, you busy yourself with noticing how the jagged edges of the rocks are a wonderful addition to the waves crashing near the shore.

“What’s going on up there?”

Finally. You prepare yourself, stopping beside the statue. “I was just about to ask you the same thing O’Hara.” You take a brave step closer towards the hulking man and he briefly looks away before staring back at you. “Not that I’m ungrateful but that wasn’t like you.”

“Then, what am I supposed to be?”

You paused. “Well… you’re supposed to be grumpy and grouchy and keeping me at arm’s length I guess?” You search for the right words as Miguel contains a chuckle seeing how flustered you were becoming by the second. “And you’re suddenly being nice to me? Hell would have to freeze over.”

Miguel closes the already small gap between the two of you and you suddenly feel hot at his gaze. He examines you for a while and you think he’s about to deliver another sharp retort.

“I did try. I tried to keep you away but you were too bright and cheerful for your own good.” Miguel gruffly tells you. “You were so much like her.”

You knew that he was referring to his past. His wife whom no one really dared to talk about. You finally understood. To him, you were a walking and living painful reminder.

“I’m sorry.” You breathed out. The air suddenly constricts in your lungs and you feel the need to get away. Anywhere but here. You turn around and find yourself being pulled into him. Miguel hugs you, and he hugs you tight.

“No, I’m the idiot. I punished you for seeing you as someone else.” He confesses. “I should have just seen you as… you. You were so bright and so brave, I almost lost it when you took the bullets from Kingpin. That’s when I knew my behavior had to stop. I wanted to tell you and I guess I saw this as the perfect opportunity.”

“Oh.” You don’t know how else to react to this sudden revelation.

“But I meant every word. About me apologizing for my past behavior.” Miguel continues. “And that. Earlier on.” He refers to his relentless counter attack on your tormentors. “I didn’t know that you had to go through all that.”

“Hey, we all go through things right? Kind of a ticket to join the spider society.” You try to lighten things up. “Besides, it’s nothing big.”

Miguel pries you away gently, a slight frown on his face. “Don’t minimize your struggles. You are a hundred times stronger than those three combined. After all, that’s what made you stood out to me in the first place.”

Your heart swells at his statement. As you hear the waves crashing, it felt as if like it gave you a sense of newfound confidence as well. It was all or nothing now. You’re inches away from Miguel, his rosy cheeks prominent from the strong breeze that the coastal city offered. “I just have one more question.”

Miguel cocks his head to the side, curious. He doesn’t interrupt, giving permission for you to go ahead.

“You love me. Real or not real?”

He takes you by the waist, lips on yours. It could be minutes or hours before he lets go, leaving you in a daze. But the movement of his lips are as clear as day. One that would be forever etched in your memory.

“Real.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman: across the spiderverse

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miniwheat77 · 1 year

Text

Maybe One Day. (Ghost x Petite!Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, Size kink, Ghost being a little talkative, petite!reader, unprotected sex, some sad parts, mentions of death, blood, violence, (sorry if I missed any)

(Summary): Reader is in love with Ghost but is okay with the fact that it’ll never lead anywhere.

I got a petite!reader ask, you can find that here.

If she wasn’t on her phone, working, or buried in a book, she was thinking about him. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley.

Y/N has worked alongside Ghost for quite some time now. A few years. From the very moment she’d laid eyes on him, she fell in love. As time went on, her feelings only seemed to grow for him. Up to this point, the fifth year working alongside him, she’d had very limited conversations with him. Anytime she made an attempt to deepen any kind of conversation, he shrugged her off. At first, she thought maybe if she talked to him enough. Close enough to him, maybe. Just maybe something would happen. But he ignored her, walked away from her, and always kept it short. So she gave up after about a year. From then on, the last four years after that, she kept it professional. Only talked to Ghost on missions when she absolutely had to. Didn’t interact with him on base aside from small waves, and kept to herself for the most part.

She made an attempt to hide the feelings she had for Ghost, but it didn’t always work. Most people caught on. The waves, the way she smiled and acted all giddy when he was around. Everything. She was nice to everyone but it was different when it came to Ghost. Nearly anybody could tell. Soap looked at her from the hallway. Ghost stood next to him. “Are you sure about this Ghost?” Soap asks. Ghost nods his head. You were currently folding up a table cloth. Soap sighs, spinning on his heels and entering the mess hall.

"Hey." He smiles. "Uh.. hi." You smile. "You scared me."

"Oh, my bad." He smiles. "I just heard you come out and thought I'd come talk to you."

“About what?”

"Simon."

"What about him?"

"I.. think you know."

You pause for a moment. Looking down at your feet.

"That obvious ah?" You smile. "Uhh.. maybe just a little bit." Soap laughs. "I just… I wouldn't want you getting hurt Y/N. He's kinda.. guarded. Yknow?"

"Oh I know Soap. There's no chance in hell we'd ever work out. Hell, it'd be a shot in the dark if he was even into me." Soap knows you're keeping it together but he can see the hurt in your eyes.

"What?"

"I'm.. not that interesting." You laugh. Simon waited right on the other side of the wall, listening in.

"I think he's just well guarded Y/N. There's nothing wrong with you."

You let out a small laugh, looking down at the ground. "Yeah. I know that nothing will ever come of it. It's just a dumb crush, nothing more."

Soap was only talking to you because Simon asked him to. He told Soap that there was no chance anything would ever work between the two of you and he needed you to know exactly what to expect. After finishing up the conversation with Soap, it had been made clear. Ghost had put Soap up to it. Which meant Ghost was getting tired of it or you’d been making him uncomfortable. You just wished Ghost had come to you about it personally rather than making it everyone else’s business and embarrassing you like that. After that day, you started ignoring Ghost. No more small waves when passing by. No more making conversation with him up on the roof when you took over watch, no more offering to take over his shifts or helping him with his chores. You drew back completely and passed by him with a cold shoulder. You were short when he needed to talk to you, just like he’d been with you. He noticed it immediately.

After a week or so, everyone noticed you hadn’t been active. Nobody had seen you in passing, nobody had talked to you or seen you during meals, and they noticed your captain was picking up your part of the chores. It was unusual. Eventually after they all pestered their Captain enough, he finally caved. “Alright fine. Meet in my office after Lunch and we’ll talk. But this stays between all of us.” He glares. They all nod their heads. After lunch, everyone met up. Ghost waited until a few minutes after, hiding in the hallway. “Alright. Y/N has been on rest in her room until we can get her home. She got a phone call about a week ago that her younger brother was killed in a car accident. She’s very upset, and you guys need to leave her be unless she comes to you for help. Am I clear?” He says. Everyone nods their heads. As everyone finishes up the conversation, Ghost notices a flash of black pass by the doorway to Captain Price’s office. He follows whatever it is, noticing you in the mess hall picking up the lukewarm pot of coffee. Once their conversation was done, Captain Price came in. When he sees you, he’s curious. “Hey, what’re you doing out of your room?” He asks. You raise the cup of coffee. John nods. You say nothing, making your way back to your room. It was odd for the both of them to see you in night clothes. Just shorts and a t-shirt. John looks at Ghost, getting a shrug back.

The following day, Ghost is eating breakfast with Soap in the mess hall. It’s only them and Captain Price inside so far. To their surprise, you walk inside. Broom in hand. You start sweeping up the mess hall. Something you did on a daily basis. It was a very small part of your chores. Not just that, you have your full uniform on. “Uh.. Y/N.” John looks up from his coffee. You pause, looking at him. Your eyes are bloodshot. You look like you haven’t slept in days. “You don’t have to do that, I got you covered. We’re trying to get you home.” You don’t stop sweeping. “They had his funeral already, I have no reason to go home. I’ll be just fine here, thanks anyways Captain.” You sweep everything into the dustpan, walking off. John sighs.

This goes on for a couple days. You’re on edge. Nobody sees you eat, you don’t sleep very well. You’re struggling and there’s nothing anybody can do. Everyone tells Ghost to check up on you. You like Ghost, maybe you’d open up to him. And he did try. Went out of his comfort zone to ask you how you’re doing. You gave him a short “I’m fine.” And shrugged him off after that.

To you, he didn’t care. Nobody cared. They were coworkers, nothing more. They didn’t care what you were going through, they only cared about what you were useful for.

You sat quietly on the chopper. Everyone else made small talk but you, you just stared ahead. You had a blank expression on your face. Like you were staring right through everything. Expressionless, emotionless. Like you weren’t there. Soap is the first to notice, but knows not to get involved. You’re struggling. The last thing you need is someone pestering you. “Alright. Don’t forget the plan. Y/N and Ghost are frontlines. Entering through vents on the rooftops. Gaz and I will be posting guard with rifles, Soap will be entering through the mines. It’s where the least amount of threats are.” Your Captain explains more details before the chopper lands, and when it lands it’s a go. You and Ghost quickly make your way inside, dropping tear gas through the vents and waiting for it to dissolve completely before jumping in.

Ghost notices immediately you’re more ruthless than before. Wearing no emotion on your face as you ambush people, stabbing them. Blood spatters over your face and you don’t even flinch as it does. It’s shocking to see someone so small being so violent. Successfully at that. When the buildings are clear, you’re leaning up against a pool table in the back room. Ghost is sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. “You told Captain they had his Funeral already. They didn’t wait for you?” Ghost asks. “No.” You rolls your eyes. “Why?” He asks. Drawing a chuckle from your lips. You cross your arms, not turning your head to even look at him. “Deadbeat parents, they don’t give a fuck about me or how I feel.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He sighs. “Luck of the draw, how d’ya think I ended up in this shit show?”

The body in front of Ghost has one of your knives in his chest, you walk over to it. Pressing your foot down onto his shoulder and pulling the knife out of him. You wipe it off on your pants before returning back to where you were leaning at the pool table. Everyone else walks into the room, lowering their weapons when they see you and Ghost waiting patiently. They look like they had a hell of a fight. “We gave you guys the hardest task and you look untouched.” Captain Price laughs. “Just too good.” You shrug, walking passed them. Soap smiles, stepping in. “Successful mission.” He holds up a flash drive. The one you’d been looking for. “Fuck yeah.” You smile. You still had that same pain in your eyes. No matter how happy you seemed, it stayed there. You twirl the knife in your hand the entire way back to the chopper, and just like before. You’re staring off into space. Brain in an entire different dimension as you spin it around in your hand.

Overtime, Ghost notices you more and more. How much different you’ve become, how cold you’ve been acting. You’re still giving him the cold shoulder. Still not making much conversation with him.

He makes his way onto the watch post, seeing you sitting back in a chair with your feet kicked up, looking at the room full of cameras. He makes his way up to you, he’s a few minutes early. You stand up, picking up your items and going to walk away. “Leaving so soon?” He asks. You pause, body going rigid. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?” You still have your back turned to him. “Just thought you’d want to make some small talk. Talk about what’s going on.” He shrugs. You turn around, a smile on your face. “Yeah, let’s be friends, we’ll exchange stories about our shitty lives. It’ll be a sleepover.” You smile. “So that’s a no.” He chuckles. You bite your lip for just a second, taking a step toward him. “What? You want to be friends now? The few times I tried making small talk with you, you had Soap tell me to leave you alone. So no, I don’t really feel like talking.” You roll your eyes, spinning to walk around. “I had him tell you to back off because I could tell you liked me. I knew you wanted to be more than friends.” You laugh, “See that’s where you’re mistaken Ghost, we’re not friends. Hell, we’re not even acquaintances. You and I? We’re just coworkers. Nothing more.” With that, you walk down the stairs. It stings Ghost a little bit that you’re so cold to him, but really he asked for this. “Hey!” He calls to you. “I’m your superior, when Captain Price isn’t around, you answer to me, Sergeant.” You turn around, smirk at your lips. You cross you arms, taking a couple steps up the stairs. “Yeah? What can I do for you, Lieutenant.” The venom in your voice is potent. “Go back inside the watch tower.” You roll your eyes. “Yes sir.” You throw your bag back down once you step inside. Ghost closes the door. “Sit down.” You hate that you have to listen to him. But you do anyways. Crossing your arms and leaning back. “Good. Now talk.” He looks at you. “About what?”

“What’s bothering you?” He asks. You narrow your eyes. “You already know what’s bothering me.”

He shakes his head. “Can we just be done here? Or am I going to have to fight my way out?” Ghost let’s out a deep chuckle. “Sweetheart, you can’t fight me. You won’t win.” A scoff leaves your lips. “The hell is that supposed to mean?” He laughs. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re tiny. I could pick you up with one hand.” He sits back in his chair, the tight shirt he has on tightens perfectly over his arms and shoulders. You swallow hard, but Ghost doesn’t miss it. “You’re hiding something else, something else was bothering you.” You raise your eyebrows, giving him a ‘are you fucking serious.’ Look. “You’re joking right?” You laugh. He looks confused. “You assumed that I like you, and instead of coming to me to tell me to back off, you told someone else to come to me and say it. Not only is that a concern that should have stayed between the both of us, but it’s pretty embarrassing that everyone knows now.” You roll your eyes. “Okay. That was a bad call on my part. I’m sorry.” He places his hands on his thighs. Your eyes glancing at them for a split second. “Are we done now?” You swallow hard. “I suppose.” He mumbles.

—

A few weeks later, Captain Price put you on leave for a week.

When you come back, you seem in worse shape than before. Ghost is the first to notice. You look like you haven’t been eating or sleeping. It’s late and he can hear weights crashing in the gym, pulling himself out his bed to go check on whoever it is, not surprised to see that it’s you. “Bad idea to do that without a spotter.” He mumbles. He rubs his eyes tiredly. His mask isn’t on straight, he just threw it on really quick. You say nothing in return. “Y/N, what’s going on?” You’re breathing hard from lifting the weight up. “Parents lied about my little brother dying, wanted me to send money for his funeral so that they could just have the money.” You breathe. Teeth gritted as you lift the weight. “They’ve brainwashed him, made him hate me. I got nobody left.” You’re panting hard, groaning as you lift the weight. Ghost takes it from your hands, lifting it up with one hand and laying it in the rack. “Talk to me.” He breathes. The action doesn’t go unnoticed by you. What you were just struggling to lift, he lifted with one hand.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts. “I don’t have anybody either. That’s why I joined the military in the first place, but it’s not exactly worked out too well in my favor because 141 is like my family. Something I’ve never had.” He breathes. You laugh. “How sweet.” He rolls his eyes. “I’m serious. We look out for each other. Make sure everyone is okay all the time, why you think I’m here hm? Everyone worries about you.” You laugh. “That’s complete bullshit and you know it. I used to try to talk to you all of the time and you just shrugged me off like nothing. Nothing was different between then and now. You’re free to leave whenever you want, Ghost.” You roll your eyes. He takes a deep breath. He’s clearly getting frustrated with you. “Why do you care about em? Hm? They don’t give a fuck about you, never have. Why lose sleep over it? I don’t.” He shrugs. “Rough concept. Maybe you’re just mentally stronger than me. But that’s not exactly my point.” You roll your eyes. You stand up, walking away to another area to work out. “Look. It’s almost midnight and we have to be up at 6. I’m not too keen on losing this much sleep. Let’s go to bed, we’ll talk more tomorrow.” He mumbles. “Go ahead, I’m not making you stay here.”

“Goddamnit.” He mumbles. He makes his way near you as you reach for a bar, he lifts you up with ease, throwing you over his shoulder. “Simon! Put me down!”

“No. You’re going to bed.”

“I’ll just lay awake.”

“Than you’ll lay awake in my bed.”

Your body goes rigid and Ghost chuckles. He opens his door up and spins around to close and lock it behind him. He throws you down onto his bed and you bounce up, scrambling to prop yourself up onto your elbows. He grasps the hem of his shirt, pulling it off. “Um.. what the fuck is going on?” You ask. He straddles your hips, leaning down into you. You let yourself fall all of the way back, backing away from his face. He laughs. “This is what you wanted, right?” You shake your head. “No-no. I don’t want your weird pity s-“ he covers your throat with his hand, the small size of you has him smiling. He likes the control he has over you. “Mnot trying to fuck you out of pity. I know you like me, I know you want to fuck me. I wanna fuck you too.” He mumbles. This side of Simon is weird. You’re used to the guarded, quiet Simon. This was new. “I like you, have forever. S’just a bad idea to start something with someone when you could die any day. But you don’t mind right?” He smirks. He pulls his mask off, and you swallow hard, seeing him.

All of him.

Everyone on base but you had seen his face.

“You’re so tiny..” he mumbles. “So easy to..” he pins your hips down into his bed. Earning a gasp from your lips. “You want me to fuck you or not?” He bites his lip. You swallow hard, cheeks burning. You nod slowly. He smirks, tugging his sweatpants down his legs. You’re only wearing a tank top and shorts, since you were working out. He tugs them off of you quickly. He is massive, you swallow hard when you see the size of his cock. He can’t help but chuckle at your reaction. “Don’t worry, M’gonna make you feel real good. Just try to be quiet for me.” He lines himself up with your entrance and you breathe out. All of the pining you’d done. The sleep you lost over him, everything. And now? A deep breath leaves your lips when he prods at your opening. The tip of his fat cock disappearing between your folds. He’s stretching you already and he’s barely started. He groans out, holding onto your hips tightly. Holding you exactly where he wants you. He clamps a hand over your mouth when he thrusts all of the way inside of you, enjoying the way your eyes roll back as he bottoms out. He’s huge. When he starts fucking into you, it’s intense. You’re watching him disappear inside of you. He says something but you aren’t listening. “Don’t tell me you’re cock drunk already?” He chuckles. He pushes you back by your chest, shoving his thumb into your mouth. “Such a good girl.” Your mouth makes his cock twitch slightly. You’re tight around Simon and he moans out. “So. Fucking. Good.” He groans between thrusts. You’re surprised how vocal he is.

You feel a high approaching already and he notices how wet you’re getting on him. He bites his lip. Lowering his gaze so that he can watch his big cock disappear into your little hole. He’s gritting his teeth, keeping a steady pace and you tilt your head back. “Ah! S-Simon-“ you whimper. “S’alright. You can cum baby.” He mumbles, leaning down slightly and attaching his lips to yours for the first time. It sends you right into a su space, the softness of his lips has you disappearing. Your moans get muffled by him as he fucks you through your first high. It won’t be your last of the night. Your thighs shake as he overstimulates you. Not giving you anytime to adjust to him. “Fuck you get so tight on me when you cum.” He groans. He starts to rock his hips into yours a little faster than before. He’s eager, wanting his own high. “Why don’t you ride me, hm?” You nod your head. He slides out of you, moving so that you can sit up. When he lays down you straddle him, lowering yourself onto him. Hissing at the new angle, he’s going too deep. He chuckles. “It’s okay.” You rock your hips up, turning around to see how far you’re taking him down. “Try to take all of me.” He mumbles. “I-I can’t.” He chuckles. “You can. Just relax for me.” You nod your head, if you wanted to stop now, he’d let you obviously. He runs his hands up your thighs, resting on your hips. He licks his lips when he forces your hips down onto him, a gasp leaving your lips as he bottoms out again. Your legs weaken and you rest yourself onto him.

You give yourself a second to adjust and he doesn’t try to make you. Letting you rock your hips into him, getting used to it. Pretty soon, you’re bouncing on his cock, moaning out. He’s smiling a lazy smile at you, loving how dirty it is. You’re addicted to him, chasing your high on his cock. He’s getting close and he can tell you’re close too by the way you’re tightening around him and the intensity of your moans. He’s panting hard, thighs clenching and lower stomach knotting up. That sweet knot was going to unravel and against his better judgement, if you don’t stop. He’s going to fill your little pussy full of his cum. You’re rocking back and fourth in him, feeling so good. He loves seeing it, loves seeing you pleasure yourself on him. It’s just a bonus that he gets to watch it, and cum too. This is so much better than jerking off. It’s all he’s done to cum in the last few years. He wanted to make a move on you sooner but knew it was a bad idea. He grips your thighs, helping guide you onto him. “Got me fucking close baby.” He groans. “M-me too.” You pant. Your eyes are watering from being overwhelmed. He lifts his hips into yours, getting frustrated and holding you up so he can thrust up into you. “Oh fuck-“ his voice cracks and a whimper leaves his lips. “I’m gonna cum.” He pants. “Fuck I’m gonna cum baby-“ he cries. “Me too Simon-“ a gasp leaves your lips when you hit your second high, feeling his warmth spill into your depths. Filling you up. Your lips are parted and you’re resting your hands on his chest. Feeling him leak down out of you.

You climb off him, going to stand up but he stops you, pulling you back into him. “Relax.” He breathes. “Sleep here.” He mumbles. Pulling you into his front. “Simon-“ he stops you. “We can talk more about this tomorrow alright? But you need sleep, and I got you. I always got you. Just sleep for now.” He breathes. Feeling his warmth and the way his arms are wrapping around you is too much. You feel your eyes getting heavy.

@clove-shitposts

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #ghost fanfiction #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley

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whiskersz · 2 months

Note

heyy! I’d love to request something for Hazbin Hotel if there’s still space in your inbox! I would like a ficlet of Angel Dust x gn! reader in which he comes back to the hotel after an awful day with Val and just breaks down when he sees them. Then reader can take care of him, give him a hug and prepare a warm bath and comfy clothes for him because he must feel uncomfortable wearing his “work clothes” after such a bad day… I just want to hold him and wipe his smudged makeup off and tell him that everything will be okay 🫂🫂

obv feel free to ignore this if it doesn’t inspire you!

Hey there! This is...kinda long, hope that's okay!! (1k words or so) Also had a mildly irritating day today so writing this was therapeutic, even though I started this yesterday. Anyhow, hope you enjoy :3

Angel x Gn!Reader - Solace

First came the thunder, then the blaring sound of a car door being slammed close. It was a particularly gloomy evening in Hell, heavy drops of rain battered against the walls of the Hazbin Hotel, which seemed uncharacteristically quiet besides the occasional cheery tune sang by Niffty, who was still dealing with cleaning.

Your head shot up at the sound of the tires of the limousine screeching outside, and you quickly threw your phone aside as you guessed you would be dealing with more important matters tonight, seeing as your boyfriend Angel had returned later than usual.

That was never a good sign.

Picking up a random umbrella from the stand placed near the entrance of the Hotel, you swiftly opened the door after pressing the button on the little remote designed to unlock the gate outside.

The air was frigid, yet you still made your way towards Angel, who seemed to be trudging himself more than walking. As you shielded him from the rain, his baggy eyes met yours, and he immediately threw himself in your arms, wetting your clothes with the rain water he was soaked in.

“Shit, they didn’t even give you an umbrella?” you hissed, walking him inside; “What happened today Angel?”

You didn’t think he could’ve furrowed his eyebrows more. Tears prickled his eyes as he answered you;

“Let’s not...talk about it.”

The lack of pet names in his sentence and wiliness in his voice concerned you greatly. Even Husk refrained from offering him a drink, focusing on the glass he was rinsing instead.

Angel didn’t even bother saying hello to the rest of the residents of the Hotel, opting to stay by your side as you led him to his room. Once you finally closed the door and you could have a moment of privacy, he let a sob escape his mouth, and you immediately wrapped your arms around his figure.

Despite being taller than you he still hid his head in the crook of your neck, holding onto you for dear life as you gently drew circles on his back with one hand and massaged his scalp with the other. You could feel that his hair was a mess, wet and tangled, yet you still placed kisses on the top of his head and whispered sweet nothings in the hope that he’d calm down.

He tried letting himself fall onto his bed, but you steadied him;

“Baby,” you murmured, “you’re soaked. How about a bath first, hm?”

His clothes were also not the most appropriate for cuddling and resting, you noticed.

He gave you a weak nod and reluctantly separated his body from yours, letting you hold his hand and walk with him to his private bathroom.

You had done this before; your hand reached for the soft pink chair he had placed behind the door and dragged it near his bathtub, then for the various products Angel usually used when he took a bath or a shower. Shampoo and conditioner for his hair, his comb, body wash, his sponge and finally his fancy bathrobe. You neatly placed everything within arm’s reach and turned on the faucet, turning your gaze back to Angel.

“I think it’s only fair if I take care of you tonight. If you’re okay with it, of course?” you asked him with a soft smile. He returned it.

“Of course. It’s just...”

You didn’t fully get it at first, but then he gestured to his body with one set of his arms, holding himself with the other, and you finally got what he was trying to tell you.

“I told you so many times love. I’m not disgusted by you, I’m disgusted by...what he does to you.” Your mind dared wandering to Valentino, and you asked yourself what he could’ve done to your partner that night. You decided not to dwell on it for the time being.

Angel let out a sigh, starting to undress. You had seen each other’s bodies many times before, but you still turned around out of respect and focused on your nails until he was done and inside the bathtub, which had been filled with warm water in the meantime.

Your gaze fell on a little box placed on the edge of the tub; opening it, you fished out a spider web shaped bath bomb; in the corner of your eye you could see Angel’s expression brightening a little, and a smile naturally grew on your face.

“I think you deserve some fun.” You stated, plopping it into the water, which immediately started fizzing around it.

Angel relaxed, leaning his back against the wall behind him, and slid slightly deeper into the water as you sat down on the chair you had dragged nearby earlier. Silence temporarily filled the bathroom as you both observed the bath bomb shrink, tinting the water a bright pink with sparkles.

Soon afterwards you found yourself going through your usual bad day’s routine with Angel; gently wiping off the smeared makeup on his face, massaging the shampoo on his scalp – you were the only one allowed to touch his hair like this – and talking about your own day to him as he washed his body to distract him from the bad thoughts he got just from the sight of the rope burns on his wrists. You had to bite back a vexed insult directed at Valentino when your eyes fell on those.

You decided to prepare some comfortable clothes for him as he dried his hair; settling on a cute but comfortable pink sweatshirt and shorts of the same color, you neatly folded them on his bed and sat beside them, noticing that someone had dropped your phone off while you were busy bathing with Angel. Most likely Husk, you thought; you mindlessly scrolled on your socials until you heard the bathroom’s door open.

Angel emerged from it, fluffy hair held back from his forehead by a headband and his body kept warm by his bathrobe.

“Oh, you’re done. Here’s your clothes sweetheart,” you handed them to him, and he thanked you with a kiss. Your attention returned on your phone for a short while as he was dressing himself up.

You heard him sigh at some point though; you curiously looked up at him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, worried.

“Would it be too much sugar...to ask for cuddles tonight?” he asked with an uncharacteristically shy smile.

Throwing your phone aside you shook your head, and opened your arms as an invitation. He swiftly took it and climbed into bed, positioning himself in your lap. Your arms draped across the small of his back and he breathed out contently, nuzzling his head against your shoulder.

You both listened to the rain outside incessantly falling down, and you softly leaned backwards until your back touched the mattress. As Angel’s breaths steadied and he began quietly snoring you looked down at him, your heart filled with warmth.

I’ve got you now, you thought, breathing in his scent; he can’t hurt you as long as you’re with me.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #x reader #angel dust x reader #angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angel dust

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sugarcoatedstarkey · 1 year

Text

Tear stained pillow case p2

Pairings- Drew Starkey x Fem!reader

Summary- It doesn’t take Drew long to realise he messed up.

Warnings- language

A/n- thank you to the anons who sent in what they wanted to see happen, apologies I couldn’t give you all what you wanted! There will be another part after this which will be longer 🖤 sorry this one is a bit short.

Part 1

Drew was struggling, he found it hard to get out of bed most mornings. He wasn’t putting his all into filming, the creators of outer banks had pulled him aside multiple times to try to figure out what was going on with him.

By the end of the month, everyone on set knew he was going through a break up. The boys tried to cheer him up, took him out to parties, and took him to theme parks. Took him anywhere that might get his mind off of you.

But nothing was working, he kept slipping further and further into himself. He knew he has messed up, the moment his lips touched Odessa he knew he fucked up.

He knew he had to suffer the consequences, he couldn’t expect to kiss a cast mate, then go back home and play happy couples, not when you were at home tearing yourself apart from all the hate online.

“Drew”

He was pulled from his thoughts, Austin standing in front of him with a cup of coffee. He hands the cup to Drew who gives him a sad excuse for a smile.

“You need to reach out to her man” Austin states, taking a seat next to his friend. Nobody was game enough to bring you up around him, but Austin was worried about Drew.

“She won’t answer my calls or texts”

“well, let’s go to her then. Go to her mums house and beg her to listen to you”

Drew shook his head, he couldn’t do that to you. He knew you’d hate it if he just showed up, especially when your sister was unwell and resting at home.

“Okay then, let Maddison invite her to dinner with the girls. We can get her alone and you can talk to her”.

Drew wasn’t sure if that was a good idea, it was still showing up unannounced. Something you hated deeply, but it might be the only way for you to listen to him.

He needed to express how sorry he was, beg for you to forgive him. Beg for you back, promise he will work on himself and be a better boyfriend.

He couldn’t throw away 4 years of memories with you, you are the love of his life. You are the one he pictures beside him at red carpets, eating breakfast in the morning, having kids with.

“Okay, let’s do that”

You weren’t going to meet up with the girls, they worked with Drew and you didn’t want to get between that, you considered them dear friends but you just wanted to cut everything out from your life that was associated with or reminded you of Drew.

Yes it was harsh but how was you expected to move on when you surround yourself with everything that reminded you of him. But you couldn’t, you couldn’t even cut Drew from your life. Sure, his texts went answered and your phone was on silent most of the time.

You spent every waking moment thinking about him, looking him up online, checking if he was okay from his parents. It was unhealthy.

So that tiny voice in your head that told you it was a bad idea got pushed further into the back, you found yourself getting ready and hoping they would bring him up in discussion.

It was you, Maddison, Mariah and Carlacia. Madelyn was busy filming at the moment, you all had a glass of wine and was waiting on the food to be brought out.

No conversation of Drew which hadn’t bothered you, no one had brought up the break up. But they had given you individual hugs that were like they were saying I’m sorry about the news.

Conversation was flowing and it was turning out to be a really good night, it felt good getting out of the house. Good having a conversation that didn’t consist of your sick sister, the breakup and work.

It was fun hearing about their projects and how filming of season 3 had been going, you had to bite your tongue a few times to stop yourself asking how Drew was.

“Y/n”

You froze at the sound of Drew’s voice, you could tell it apart from anyone. Your eyes widened, meeting the gaze of Maddison in front of you. She gives you an apologetic smile, your body stiffens when his fingers brush over the tattoo on your shoulder.

“Please look at me”

You close your eyes briefly and pull yourself to stand, you couldn’t ignore him. There was an ache in your belly, you needed to see his face. “Hi drew”

“Hey” he breathes a sigh of relief. Tears build in his eyes when you finally turn around, the wind gets knocked out of him when you give him a soft smile. He wants to grab you by the jaw and kiss you, express his undying love to you.

“How are you?” He asks, he can’t help himself and pulls you into a hug. Your body melts under him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

Your breathing in his scent, memories flooding your head. You can hear the thud of his heart against your ear, his arms feel like they are shaking.

“I’m… okay, you?”

“Been better”

Silence falls over the two of you, your eyes searching his. “What are you doing here?”

As he opens his mouth to speak, a group of girls come barging over. “Omg Drew”

“Hi girls, I’m just busy at the moment”

“Just one photo please?”

“Not right now”

Their eyes go to you, silently begging for you to tell him to take the photo. A sickness washes over you, if you didn’t do what they wanted, they would spread more hate on the internet.

“It’s fine, I was just leaving. Take the photo” you give them a polite smile.

“No no, I need to speak to you”

“Another time, girls”

They don’t give him time to speak again and they flutter around him. Shoving their phone into his face, you take this opportunity to grab your bag and jacket.

“I’m sorry…I have to go”.

You're rushing out of the restaurant before anyone can stop you, your shoes hitting the pavement faster than you thought was possible. The rain splashing up against your calves.

“Y/N!”

Reaching your car you fumble with your keys, his hand grasps yours. A sob escapes your lips as the rain falls around you both, you can feel his body against your back. “Please don’t leave”.

“I don’t know if I can talk to you Drew”

“Please… I need to apologise, I need to fight for us”

You turn and face him, water runs down your face. Your hair clinging to the sides of your face and neck. He can’t help himself and he grabs your cheek, staring down at you as he sorts out all the words flying around his head.

“Drew”

“I’m sorry okay, I shouldn’t have kissed Odessa… fuck I shouldn’t have done a lot of things, I was such a shit boyfriend towards the end”

You can’t find the words to respond, you don’t know if you want to hear this yet. You don’t know if you can forgive him, move on from the events.

“I don’t know Drew”

“Please y/n”

He’s pressing his lips to yours before you can say anything else, you let him slip his tongue inside for a moment before pushing him away roughly.

“Stop!”

Rubbing your hands over your face, the rain makes you feel uncomfortable. “You can’t just kiss me Drew!”

“I’m sorry…. Fuck! I’m sorry!”

You shake your head, turning back around to unlock your car. “I have to leave”

“Please don’t.. let’s talk”

“Not right now Drew, give me time”.

He lets you get inside the car, pressing the palm of his hand to the window. You can’t look back at him, you would cave. You’d hop out of the car and kiss him again, you’d forgive him without really overcoming the betrayal you felt.

You're driving away without another word, watching his figure disappear in the rear view mirror. Your body shakes as you sob, tears dripping down your face.

Part 3

🏷️- @vigilanteshitposting @drewstarkeysleftfoot @cameronmedia @pedrisgatorade @teresalesbian @users09 let me know if you’d like to join my Taglist

#drew starkey one shot #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey smut #drew starkey fic #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey angst #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey #outerbanks angst #rafe cameron angst #outerbanks drew #outerbanks cast #outerbanks fanfiction #outerbanks rafe #outerbanks #outerbanks x reader

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dustykneed · 2 months

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Got any advice on drawing McCoy? I hear people all the time saying how hard Jim is to draw (and he 100% is almost impossible i don’t deny) but McCoy T-T that wrinkley old bastard just completely eludes me for some reason lmao

ANON hiiiii!! i gotcha buddy. hope this helps!

obv this is just how i interpret them in my style. there's no right way to go about this and another thing that helps is to, aside from referencing the source material, look at how other artists (off the top of my head, toboldlymuppet's trek art on tumblr definitely had some influence in how i drew them when i'd freshly gotten into trek!)

also forgot to mention but mcspirk definitely has really distinct silhouettes!! so don't be afraid to mess around with stylisation and emphasize the features that characterize each of em :]]

for this references are your good friend! (i'm a hypocrite bc i only use refs when im completely stuck LMAO it's a bad habit. use those refs liberally. don't be like me 💀💀)

learning to stylise blorbos always takes some work but i promise you'll get there<33 here's a side by side comparison of one of my earliest bones scribbles and one of the most recent-- you can really see the evolution of how i was able to get more comfortable with characterization (even though I used refs for neither of these LOL).

you got this!!!

#star trek #star trek tos #star trek fanart #tos #star trek the original series #leonard mccoy #bones mccoy #leonard bones mccoy #leonard mccoy fanart #mcspirk #shape language #how to draw #art style

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n0cturna1-m3 · 1 year

Text

Flustered | Bottom Nightwing x Top Villain! Male Reader | Smut

Fem/Minors DNI

Warnings; Degradation, rimming, anal fingering, deep throating, risky place, bareback, spit for lube

A/N; i reread this and its honestly kinda mid but im gonna post it anyway. i promise i will make a better nightwing fic bc i love him so much

About 2.1k words

Y/N stumbled back from the hard blow to his helmet, the loud crunch of the impact from Nightwings baton meeting it filling the air. Half of the helmet’s face has broken off, revealing half of the criminal's face, more than pissed off at this point.

The job would have been easy; get into the building, shoot the target, and get out. But Nightwing had turned up and caused the last part of his plan to go south. Stuck on the roof of the building, Y/N was in a predicament, forced to fight with someone who he wasn’t interested in fighting. And now his helmet was broken.

He pulled it off and tossed it aside, a mean scowl on his face as he turned back to Nightwing, fishing a gun off his back and staring at him. Nightwing looked distracted, not like his usual self that would never make a mistake such as letting his mind wander mid fight.

Nightwing was quiet as he watched Y/N slowly walk towards him, his eyes fixated on the vigilante with a glare. This wasn’t normal for him. Y/N glanced down and caught a glimpse of Nightwing’s groyne before he sneakily moved his hand to cover his shame. He was half-hard. Y/N laughed in his face, taking a few strides and facing Nightwing, grabbing his arm and moving it away, scoffing at the sight of him.

“Did you pop a boner?” Y/N mocked, staring at Nightwing. “Right now?”

He looked away, face heating up in embarrassment. He refused to answer. The lack of response prompt Y/N to give a sharp punch to his gut, the latter having the wind knocked out of him and folding in on himself, dropping to his knees. Y/N stared down at him and moved his foot to step on Nightwing’s cock. He let out a deep moan, one hand reaching to grab Y/N’s pant leg and attaching itself to one of the straps on his thigh that held a pouch.

Y/N stared at him as he shoved his boot into his crotch, watching the other man sputter incoherently. He felt his own cock stirring in his pants at the sight of Nightwing grinding against his boot, gripping his pants with his jaw slack and salivating. Y/N grabbed his face in one hand and pulled it to look up at him, fingers digging into his cheeks. His eyes were half-lidded under his mask while he stared up at Y/N, the latter looking down on him with a similar expression.

“Who would have guessed that the Nightwing, robin of all people, would be a cheap whore?” He said, tilting his head slightly. “What do you want from me?”

Nightwing simply looked at him, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for words in his cloudy head. “I wanna suck you off,” He finally said, eyebrows furrowed slightly. Y/N’s breath caught in his throat at the bold words that came out of his mouth, his eyes wide in shock.

“Be my guest,” He responded, letting go of his face and motioning to his belt. Nightwing brought his hands up and made quick work of it, letting it hang from the loops of his pants and unzipping them, pulling them down to Y/N’s mid thigh, face to face with his black boxers and semi-hard cock. He pulled him down too and took a deep breath before taking him into his mouth, the taste of Y/N’s skin on his tongue making him let out a satisfied groan. He sucked on the head softly before taking the rest of him down his throat, swallowing around him and moaning as he buried his nose in Y/N’s pubic hair, pusing there and letting his cock rest in his mouth.

Y/N’s hand made its way into his black hair, tangling his fingers in the mess, massaging his scalp with his fingertips. Nightwing bobbed his head slowly, one of his gloved hands coming up to cup Y/N’s balls, fondling them and glancing up at Y/N who had his eyes screwed shut, his hand fisting Nightwing’s hair. He drew himself off of his dick, taking a deep breath before deepthroating him again, gagging when Y/N bucked his hips to meet his mouth halfway. Nightwing began palming himself through his suit, moaning when Y/N started fucking his throat. He couldn’t breathe, talking occasionally shallow breaths through his nose.

Drool and pre-come dribbled down his chin, Nightwing letting out a whine when Y/N pulled him off. He leaned forward to take him inside his mouth again, being stopped by Y/N tugging his hair sharply.

“Stop that,” He scolded, pushing him onto his back with a thud and flipping him onto his stomach with his ass up in the air. Y/N grabbed a knife from his belt and used it to cut open the suit, Nightwing yelping in response.

“Why would you do that!?” He yelled, glaring back at Y/N who met his eyes with an unimpressed gaze. “It’s a two piece!”

“Sorry,” He muttered, ripping open his boxers too. He took note of his hole; he was very obviously playing with himself earlier. Whore. He spat on Nightwing before pressing his tongue flat against it and licking up, the latter moaning in his chest. Y/N’s hands held his hips as he forced his tongue inside the other man who was now shaking, licking him open. Nightwing reached down to stroke himself but stopped when Y/N gave him a hard slap on the ass. Nightwing choked out a mix of a moan and a scream, returning his hand to beside his head. He pulled back for a moment to lick his fingers, coating them in saliva before pushing two inside of Nightwing’s heat, his tongue joining them, spreading him open while enjoying the moans that he let out.

Y/N pulled away from his ass, sitting up and stroking himself a few times before pushing inside Nightwing, cock still wet from the blowjob he gave him. It was a tight fit, Nightwing moaning and clawing desperately at the rooftop in an attempt to find something to ground himself. Y/N leaned forward and placed his hand over Nightwing’s, letting their fingers intertwine as he bottomed out. He kissed the skin behind Nightwings ear, biting the shell of it as his unoccupied hand rubbed small circles on his waist with his thumb.

“Sorry, birdie,” He whispered unmoving as he waited for Nightwing to adjust to his size, kissing along the skin he had access to in reassurance.

“Move,” Nightwing said as he pushed himself back on Y/N. “Please.”

Y/N obliged, pulling his hips back before snapping them forward to meet Nightwing’s ass, the latter almost screaming at the feeling. He would have had it not been for Y/N moving his hand to cover his mouth. Nightwing grabbed at his arm, digging his fingers into his thick jacket while his other hand held onto Y/N’s tightly. His body was burning hot, ears filled with the sound of their skin meeting and creating a slapping sound. Y/N was breathing heavily in his ear, his mind foggy from the man beneath him.

Nightwing forced Y/N’s hand off his mouth and attempted to turn around, Y/N pulling out briefly to allow him to face him, wrapping his legs around his waist and pulling him in, putting one hand on the back of his neck while the other found itself under his coat, in between the layer of his shirt and jacket. Y/N stared at Nightwing as he pulled him into a sloppy kiss, moaning when he entered him again. He grabbed a fistful of Y/N’s shirt as they kissed, Y/N slowly rocking his hips into Nightwing’s.

The slow pace that Y/N had taken up contrasted dramatically to the ruthlessness of their previous position. His hands were wandering the other’s body, gasping occasionally when he would tighten up around him, constricting his cock with his warmth. Nightwing pulled away from the kiss abruptly, removing his hands from Y/N’s body to remove his gloves. Y/N leaned back and removed his coat, a black shirt hugging his body tightly. Nightwing grabbed Y/N’s face again and pulled him down, kissing him sweetly and sliding his right hand up under his shirt, touching the skin beneath it, squeezing certain places that caused him to grunt into Nightwings mouth, the latter swallowing up every sound that emitted from his throat.

Y/N began to move faster as one of his hands travelled down Nightwing’s body to grasp his cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts. He moaned and buried his face in Y/N’s shoulder, both of his hands holding onto his biceps, fingernails digging into the skin.

“Holy– Shit!” Y/N cursed, head hanging forward and resting in the crook of Nightwing’s neck. He twisted his wrist, Nightwing’s cock twitching in his hand. It was bright red and pulsing. Y/n kissed his cheek and pulled out, the whine that left his throat being replaced by a moan when Y/N put his dick on top of his own and wrapped his hand around them both, fisting their cocks at a fast pace that left Nightwing’s skin burning.

It didn’t take long for Nightwing to spill all over himself, Y/N following soon after, his hand languidly stroking to milk everything out of them. Nightwing pulled him in for another kiss, panting against each other's lips upon separating. Y/N’s hand was covered in cum, and Nightwing’s torso was as well. Y/N pulled up his pants, securing his belt and looking back at the very dishevelled Nightwing lying in front of him, his eyes half lidded. Y/N kissed him on the cheek and lifted his hips to wrap his coat around his waist, tying it in the front and standing up.

He looked down at Nightwing and smiled, giving him a small wave before jumping off the building, disappearing into the night.

"What the fuck just happened..."

#x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader #top male reader #x top male reader #bottom dick grayson #bottom nightwing #dc x male reader

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bitchlessdino · 1 year

Note

hey nana!!! i read your mingyu, wonwoo and the chan, seungcheol, soonyoung smuts and i loved it!!!<3 i'm wondering if you could write a smut about my biases which are soonyoung, wonwoo and jihoon since after caratland i LOVEEE wonwoo with his glasses and how soonyoung and jihoon looked:) maybe have it like be vanilla? or it could be vanilla leading to hard sex which would be awesome,, i'm fine with anything!!! tsym nana!!💞

-🧽

Pairing: fem!reader x wonwoo x soonyoung x jihoon

Genre: smut

Word count: 5.8k

tags: mentions of alcohol, drunk sex, break ups, mention of cheating, swords crossing, cum swapping, cum eating, double pen, breast play, oral (giving and receiving), double oral(?), act of video recording sexual acts, praise kink, degradation, pet names (princess and baby), unprotected sex, creampie

Summary: The subway train? The bullet train? The soul train?? No...the only way off of heartbreak city is the Homie Train. Translation: do not spare a single one of your ex's friends. You will have to fuck every one of them. It's a guaranteed way.

author note: i kind went wild, i did my thing, i lost myself in sex, im here. with more filth. ha. haha. im ok, I promise. no I'm not

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @honglynights @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han

“Hae is a jerk. You’re better off.”

He did it over text. “We should see other people,” it said and all of a sudden, tears burned your eyes while your hands were scorching to the touch. You had an inkling this would happen but were not thinking it’d be this soon. Your boyfriend–well, now ex–always made you feel like you were never enough or didn’t care to put in effort despite the fact you were.

It perhaps started around your anniversary when you had planned a date night for just the two of you. Shock drew on your face when he entered the location with not only himself but his friends to follow, three in fact.

Wonwoo, a fellow gamer he met through gaming tournaments and PC cafes. Soonyoung, a guy he met at an EDM concert around a year or two ago and never left. And finally, Jihoon, Soonyoung’s friend, someone just as uncomfortable as you were.

You pulled your boyfriend aside, saying you had only planned it to be a couples' night. It was then he insisted they’d only be here a short while. You’d still have their couple's night, and everything would be fine. But not a word of ‘anniversary’ once came up in the conversation. You should’ve known since then.

They had to have been the genuinely nicest guys you’ve ever encountered. No partner was perfect, but getting to know all three guys made you realize your boyfriend was far from it. Perhaps even the worse of the bunch. While Hae was preoccupied, Jihoon politely and quietly apologized. One, for overhearing your conversation, and two, for intruding on your night out.

You dismissed it, although bitter from the interruption, said what’s done is done and that you were still having a good time. It was the truth. Hae’s friends made good company, trying to make sure you were drinking enough water, eating enough food, and entertaining you just as much as they were each other.

At the end of the night, they were the ones insisting on getting you home early after your boyfriend rejected taking you home himself.

You had done a lot of thinking since then, wondering how you came to this, when you realized they had followed you on social media, a universal sign of friendship. You talked with them more comfortably over time, seeing them almost as often as you did Hae, and eventually, they became your friends too. Despite that, your romantic relationship never improved and here you were, a blubbering mess in front of your new friends.

Wonwoo continued to hand you off tissues while Soonyoung pulled back your hair from covering your face. Jihoon, on the other hand, surfed Netflix for revenge movies that would take your mind off their stupid friend, if he could even call him that.

“Do Revenge, John Tucker Must Die, Carrie. Any of these sound appealing?”

“Why are they all high schoolers,” you asked, sniffling.

“Because teenagers are the most conniving, manipulative creatures on planet Earth. That's why they’re so good at revenge stories. Thought you could enjoy blowing off steam.”

You shook your head, blowing your nose into the cushion felt of the tissue before tossing it in a pile you made before they got here. “They all sound awful. Can’t we just skip to the end of The Glory when she finally gets her revenge on all of them?”

“No way,” Soonyoung retorted, “I just barely got through the curling iron parts. I can’t just skip…or I guess we could.”

He flipped the switch immediately after seeing the pitiful look on your face, caressing the side of your head to hinder any more tears from falling.

“We’ll do what you want,” Wonwoo assured, “as long as you start feeling better.”

He gave you your last tissue, and you mouthed a thank you before Jihoon put on the dark drama and you joined together on the couch. They made the process more manageable–not any less heartbreaking–but you couldn’t understand why it had hurt so hard. He had friends he treated well, better than you’ve ever seen. Why couldn’t he have done the same for you?

You hadn’t planned on it, but the sun had gone down, and you were still accompanied by these three men, two deep in sleep. Meanwhile, Wonwoo had gone off to get himself water. “Want a cup?”

You trodded towards the tall man, still slumped from your emotions but accepting his glass as he poured himself a new one. “You guys didn’t have to come over.”

“Why wouldn’t we?”

You shrugged, “You were his friends first, I don’t know. Isn’t there bro code or something?”

He scoffed, “I think in these situations, we can figure out who’s in the wrong, and you’re perfect.”

Now it was your turn to scoff, finishing off the rest of your water before placing it to clean in the sink for your future self to clean. “If I’m so perfect, why would he break up with me?”

“I just told you. You’re perfect. Hae isn’t. He’s an idiot.”

“Wonwoo, he’s your friend.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about anymore,” he said, placing his empty cup next to yours.

“So what? You’re gonna stop being friends with him because he broke up with me?” You joked half-heartedly.

He thought for a second before nodding. “Yeah…I think that’s the right response.”

You didn’t expect it. This man, feelings more platonic than anything for you, has shown more loyalty to you in the past few months than your ex did in the past year. The tears were finally starting to come back. Wonwoo responded quickly and embraced you. His enormous arms tugged you against his broad upper body, his chin hugging the curve of your head, like two matching puzzle pieces. “I’m sorry you had to endure him. You deserve more than tolerance. You deserve love and care.”

You sobbed harder, staining the fabric of his sweater.

“Y/n, is that you crying? Not again.” Soonyoung quickly came by your side, joining you while a sleepy Jihoon quickly followed behind and embraced you just the same.

You had never felt warm like this. Three guys that had no ties to you besides someone you had a relationship with, now hugged you like they never wanted to let go. Had you met any of them before your ex, you wonder if you’d be crying the way you were now.

You didn’t want the night to end, so you insisted they stayed the night. You let borrow some oversize clothes that could probably fit them snugly and cracked open a few drinks to buzz out the emotions.

“I blame Soonyoung. He’s an awful judge of character. Too trusting.”

Jihoon was already off his rocker after a counted two bottles of soju. He did mention he hardly drank, but now you were understanding why.

“How was I supposed to know he was an asshole,” the culprit questioned, losing it after one singular bottle. This was more alike than they’d like to admit. “He was an alright guy then. A dick to girls too good for him though.”

Your cheeks heated up hearing that, finishing up your first bottle.

“Like he plays Valo, he truly fumbled the bag right here.” Wonwoo slightly stirred, but still stood taller than the rest of them.

You waved your hands in front of them dismissively. “Guys, stop. He–hic–don’t trash talk him just because of me.”

“We’ll do what we want!” Soonyoung shouted. “He’s the one that screwed up first! Imagine a beautiful, nice, pretty, gorgeous, sweet person like Y/n comes…and you break up with them! Huh? Math is nonexistent. I always hated algebra.”

Soonyoung began nodding his head on your shoulder like a lonesome pet, pouting aggressively. “So bad. Hae stupid. Stupid. Stupid just like algebra.”

“Soonyoung, water please,” you requested, nudging the bottle in his mouth, and relieved to see him accept it.

“Yeah, he’s not drinking anymore,” Wonwoo twisted the cap on the bottle with any remainder left and set it aside in a place Soonyoung couldn’t reach.

You sighed, hot in places that could only be done with high intakes of alcohol. You fell back against the sturdy couch as your thighs scratched over the surface of your carpet. “I feel like I haven’t said thank you enough. So, thank you.”

“You’ve said it plenty,” Wonwoo chuckled, “but good to see you happier.”

“You know what I want to see,” Jihoon interrupted, “Hae’s face seeing that we’re here instead of with him at the bar like he asked us to be. Fuck that guy! Y/n’s out here crying, and he wants to go out? Fuck you, Hae!”

Jihoon was one emotionally unstable drunk. You had never seen him like this before. Out of all the guys, he may have visibly disliked Hae the most, and right now it was definitely showing.

Soonyoung hugged your body with all his strength, nuzzling into you. “He sucks. Stupid Hae.”

“Enough, okay. Let’s not talk about him,” you commanded, a small pout of your own forming.

“If I dated Y/n, I’d show how special she is every day,” Soonyoung blubbered. “Give her all the kisses she wants, take her all the places she wants, drive her home, just to wake up in bed with her.”

You lightly nudged the giggly drunk, “Aw Soon…”

“If it were me,” Wonwoo joined, “I’d plan date nights without inviting my friends and it’d be the nicest place in town, spoil her until she beats 3-month-old milk. Make her feel like the only girl in the world.”

You sighed out of embarrassment, covering your face so they couldn’t see the cheesy ass smile that was forming involuntarily. “Wonwoo–”

“I’d just love her.” Jihoon had finally started sobering up to the point his words were comprehensive, but even then he didn’t sound fully there, like truth serum was doing the lord’s work in a way. “I’d do what Hae couldn’t and give her the most love I could ever give because if it was one thing Hae got I was jealous of, it was her love and undivided attention. He wasn’t worth any of it. Now it’s gone to waste.”

That may have hit you the hardest, feeling the waterworks building up again. You got up from the ground to wrap snugly around Jihoon, feeling him stiffen underneath you but reciprocating after taking the moment to process. His hand came up your back in an awkward loop, resting his head on your forehead as he let you cry. He didn’t say anything, but he figured it was what you wanted.

“I love you all,” you sobbed, pressing your lips on the curve of his cheek abruptly. “You’re so nice to me.”

“Y/n,” Jihoon said, now fully sober and conscious of a less-than-sober woman smothering him.

“I mean it,” You kissed the other side of his face, “You’re all the kindest,” –kiss– “Sweetest” –kiss— “Most tender loving guys I’ve ever met.”

You were stamping the man's face all over until you were toppling on top of him. His hands grip the base of your shoulders from falling face-first into his, but now you were staring back into his rounded eyes behind his spectacles. Forehead beaded with sweet, adam’s apple shifting from a harsh swallow, and his shallow rise and fall of his chest against yours.

Your head was telling you all the right routes to take before you took the compulsive one and kissed his lips, grinding yourself on top of him. Jihoon eyes shot open before trying to move his head, away from your lips, slowly realizing he was succumbing to them.

“Y/n–”

“Don’t leave, Jihoon,” You softly whined.

He pulled you up from the ground to place you back on the front of the couch, a phantom of your lips on his. “You’re drunk.”

“So?”

“You’re not in your right state of mind, Y/n,” Wonwoo intruded.

“Like I have been for the past years being with Hae? Like how I was so blind to see the signs of him….cheating on me?”

The surrounding men grew silent, unable to answer.

“You all knew–”

“We didn’t,” Jihoon denied, “We found out from Instagram. We were kept in the dark too.”

You let out a harsh breath, forearm pressed against your damp eyes.

“Fuck it,” Soonyoung spoke up in what felt like forever and pressed his lips against yours, finding you quick to respond.

You climbed against his lap before you started grinding, the salt of your tears slipping past your meshed lips. Your needy moans burned in the collective men’s ears, churning their stomachs, tightening their inseams, and Soonyoung became what they all envied. The outsiders scooted closer to the couple to get a clear view, heat radiating over their bodies hotter than any sun in the galaxy.

Only pure animal instinct ran through you, a longing to get off, gnawing at you like an insect. You ran your hand through his hair, pulling on it to emit his soft whines. Your abdomen tensed up, now pushing your weight against him until you could make the outline of his toned, fit body.

He moaned your name helplessly, hands gathering the balls of your shirt into fists.

“Fuck me please,” you asked through weak whimpers, “Get him off me. Make him go away.”

At that moment, you knew exactly what you needed, sober or not. The image constantly ran through your mind of having dated one of them, any of them. They all would’ve had more potential of a happier future than you ever did with your ex.

Soonyoung completely understood, lifting your bodies from the ground and now on the couch. He shamelessly returned your kiss. His tongue moved at all angles for a taste, and the other men watched like the scene was a car crash, too mesmerized to look away, all while readjusting the discomfort in their pants.

Bothered by their needy presence so close, you pull away from Soonyoung to reunite with Jihoon, feeling more complacency than the initial kiss you shared. You cupped his face gingerly, stroking his soft features before taking his glasses off his face and placing it on the coffee table.

Meanwhile, Soonyoung felt your skin smooth under his palm, tasting the tenderness of your neck. His hands crawled up your back, pawing at the band of your bra before releasing the clasps, your breasts falling gently from the lack of support. Slipping under the underwire, he kneaded your tender breasts, fingers finding your pebbled sensitivity before squeezing, your moans running up your throat.

Wonwoo kneeled with his face toward your back, hands following up your sides as his lips trailed up your spine in soft wonder. The whisper of his breath sends tingles to your body and you arch your back in surprise. This doesn’t scare you, as right now you showed no protest, but his hand hover over the top of your sweats, lightly pulling at the elastic. Cautiously, he slid past the thick material to find your folds, drenched under a mess of your own making. Vicious and thick under his fingers, Wonwoo groaned in your ear. “God, look how wet you are…”

You gasped against Jihoon’s lips as Wonwoo’s finger made himself slip up your fold, a thick layer of film wrapping around his fingers like honey. You shuddered before Jihoon grabbed your head and kissed you deeper, his free hand lost in the depth of the jeans he wore. It was all of the best world together happening simultaneously and now you couldn’t imagine having anything else like it.

“I need to be in you so badly,” Wonwoo grunted, pushing himself up the end of the couch to retrieve friction to his groin.

His fingers dug deeper inside, thumb caressing your clit, as his teeth grazed your skin. You pushed your weight into Soonyoung’s lap, feeling his cock throbbing beneath you. Flushed, you tore your shirt off, exposing your torso for others to worship, and that they did.

Their hands are entangled with your frame, wrapping around every surface of sweet skin. Slowly, one by one, each of them began to tore off the clothes, exposing themselves. Bodies on bodies of fire, inflamed with unbridled lust, determined to make all parts of you quiver under their touch.

The couch wouldn’t have enough surface area, so they moved you to the bedroom. Jihoon’s hands were on your hips, and his lips peppered the nape of your neck. Soonyoung held up your front, latched on to your face with swollen lips. Meanwhile, Wonwoo closed the door behind them, stalking a beat later to enjoy the show.

Your bodies collapsed on the mattress and Soonyoung parted from you to allow Wonwoo access. Wonwoo towered over you, knee bent between your legs, lips languidly moving against yours. “What do you want?” He asked, kisses sweet and heated, “Let us give what your dumb boyfriend couldn’t.”

“Say the word, Y/n,” Soonyoung added, kissing your fingers, your palm, your wrist, and down your arm, “What will make you feel good?”

“Just…” you expelled desperate breath, “Fuck me, please.”

“You have to tell us, beautiful,” Jihoon’s fingers laced through your other hand, kissing the back of it, “What wouldn’t–or couldn’t–he do?”

“...eat me. He couldn’t eat me.”

Wonwoo grinned, “I’ve got that covered.”

You felt him kiss down your stomach, the pads of his fingers pressed into your flesh. His hands began to part your divide, lips tickling your inner thighs. You felt teeth, followed by relieved sighs as his fingers delicately brushed on your raw heat. “Of course, he couldn’t handle you. He wouldn’t know such a pretty pussy if it slapped him across the face.”

His lips gradually moved to the center, wrapping his lips around your entry as his eyes stared back at you like a deep void sucking you into its endless pit. His tongue licked your walls, earning a soft jump from you as Soonyoung and Jihoon help you down by your arms. A moan escapes your closed lips, your teeth driven into your bottom lip in anguish.

“She likes it,” Soonyoung commented amusedly.

“Well, I’m sure anything is better than that asshole…But Wonwoo doing it for you? His mouth feels good on your wet, needy pussy?”

Salvia caught in your throat, you fused into the sheets, “Fuck yes.”

Wonwoo chuckled against your skin before he faced you deeper, burning himself in your arousal until he was sure he’d drown in it. You were like honey on his tongue, rich and pure. Eating you out gave him all and more pleasure than a thousand hand jobs by a thousand of hands. You were pure ecstasy that had been forbidden from the very moment he laid his eyes on you.

The only reason why he stayed friends with your ex for so long was his inner circle, including you. He endured every trash talk, every shit game, every extra hour session to improve Hae’s shitty hand coordination. It was worth it, at least now it was.

“He must be having a full course down there, you sound amazing,” Soonyoung whispered in your ear, hand fondling one breast, while Jihoon had the other. His lips were eating at your pebbled skin.

Your high only rose taller, your body tenser, and you can feel your skin swell up in heat as you clenched around Wonwoo’s tongue. Your climax gushed out of you like tree sap, coating his mouth in your warmth, dripping down from his lips to chin. He tasted what he only dreamt of, ecstasy and clouds. Only filthy.

He reached up to land your taste in your mouth. “How is it? Delicious, aren’t ya?”

“My turn,” Jihoon claimed your lips a second after, envy stemming from his lips as he tasted you himself. His stomach coiled over the filth in your mouth, pouring the thought of ruining you in his head. His cock throbbed at the image of being choked from your sopping cunt that he could only imagine felt good as it tasted. “I’ll get condoms.”

“Don’t.” You stopped, staring back into the man’s eyes in pleas. “I want to feel you, please.”

“Us? All of us?” Jihoon asked to confirm.

You gave him a definite nod, “I’m clean…and I’ve never let him touch me raw ever.”

“Are you sure, princess?” Wonwoo now asked, painfully aware of the offer hot on his fingertips.

“I-I trust you. Please…”

They briefed in quiet thought before agreeing, surrounding you at all sides. You reached up for Wonwoo, pulling him back on you with his cock thick and hard between his legs. Your hand went to claim him in your grip, stroking him from base to tip, the bulging veins up his shaft tingling at your fingertips.

“Careful there,” he cautioned, grinning, “you’ll make me get too excited.”

“That’s what I want,” you mused.

“Looks like Y/n is a little tease,” Soonyoung chuckled. “Let’s see if you can take what you dish.”

Jihoon came to your side before laying a hand on your pussy, lathering your moisture between his fingers and stretching open your folds. The curve of Wonwoo’s cock stood perfectly aligned at your entrance, wetting the head with a delectable sheen. He pushed himself in, savoring the safe haven that was your walls. It was the perfect stretch to his girth and he groaned at the plush felt, practically melting all around him. “Shit…”

“Look how good that pussy takes his cock, Hoon,” Soonyoung spoke, jaw dropped.

“Such a good little pussy,” Jihoon agreed, rubbing your clit, teeth tugging against your earlobe, “You’re gonna make me cum with how mouthwatering you look.”

You buried your grip in the sheets, head throwing as the plunge of Wonwoo’s cock, and you barely made out your request. “P-Phone…”

“Why do you need your phone,” Soonyoung asked in interest.

“S-snap…Hae…”

They were all shocked at first at your request, but pulled up the Snapchat app on the phone anyway, waiting to give you a signal to record. You then added on to the request, “Soon—Mmh—say some n-nice things before sending it t-to him…”

He turned a cheeky grin before pressing record. Wonwoo thrust in you deep, groaned louder, fucked you faster, and naturally spilled obscenities from your lips that ‘putting on a show’ wouldn’t be necessary. His hands roughly pulled your hips to him, as if to use you, bending you to his will, and fuck, did it feel good.

“You see this shit?” Soonyoung mocked. “That’s what fucking sounds like, you moron. Probably never heard her make those sounds before, have you? Funny enough, she likes raw cock, just not yours.”

You let out a guttural moan as Jihoon played with your tits. His teeth scratched up against your breast before biting, sucking, and moaning. You whispered in his ear something only he could hear it’s not long before he does as you asked, dangling his cock in front of you with bent knees. You grasped his shaft, tugging on his skin before fitting him in your mouth, pushing through your soft gags, and taking him deep in your mouth.

Jihoon sounded satisfied just as he looked. He put his hands in your hair before bobbing your head against him, his cock deep-throating you until you’re forced to breathe through your nose. He felt full and thick inside you, itching down the depths of your throat.

Soonyoung pulled the phone closer to you, just hornier watching you at work while he was at work. “Look. At. That. She’s taking his cock so fucking good. What a good girl. So fucking pretty–You’re such a stupid bitch, Hae. I hope you know that by now you never deserved her.”

Soonyoung’s thumb comes into the frame to wipe the overwhelmed tears in your eyes, while your delicious moans were muffled by Jihoon. “His cock taste good, baby?”

You nodded, whimpering as Jihoon tugged you harder, forcing your eyes on him.

“Better than Hae’s?” Jihoon thought to ask, to which you nodded again, only more gingerly as you caressed his bare abdomen.

“Yeah, because Hae’s a little bitch,” Soonyoung egged. “You’ve got to be incredibly stupid to fucking lose someone like this. Well, bye now. Gotta get back to fucking your hot girlfriend–excuse me.” He turned the camera back on himself, visibly stroking his cock—veiny and hard. “Your hot Ex-girlfriend.”

He threw a farewell middle finger before sending it to him and tossing the phone aside. He caressed your head, “How’s that?”

You nodded, a bit too distracted to give a more definite answer.

“Good, now focus on orgasming, hmm?”

You saw Soonyoung’s cock, hard and in its lonesome before tending it, still stroking Jihoon’s. You alternated between the two for a period, letting both feel the inner working of your mouth. It was until you got enthusiastic that you rubbed them against each other, lathering each other your saliva. Their collective moans drowned out other sounds in the room. Vein to vein, shaft to shaft, head to head. With your tongue in between or licking up their lengths, their cocks gilded against each other as smooth as butter.

“Fuck, why does that feel good?” Jihoon whined, still drunk enough to admit some truth.

“Admit it, Hoonie, you like me,” Soonyoung teased between his moans.

Both your hands held them together, stroking them as if they were one. You could feel them bursting with arousal. It was orgasmic to see them cross, but not as much as it was taking them both in your mouth simultaneously, stretching your lips from corner to corner. They may have not pushed far, but your lips wrapped around them so bound and tight, it was more than they could’ve asked.

“Yes, shit…Just, like that, Y/n...You’re driving me insane right now…”

“Taking our cocks so beautifully, baby…Being perfect, good slut…Mmh, spit on it…that’s it…Take us deeper, baby…so fucking good.”

Wonwoo may have amped up his pace for the camera, but he was afraid to lose it. Taking the sides of your legs, he held them up to his shoulders so he could fuck you deeper, bottoming out in you. Your moans vibrated up the two men’s cock, one more sensitive than the other, making Jihoon curse at his limited patience. “Shit…so close…”

“Oh, Y/n…shit…fuck, I’m gonna cum too.” Wonwoo shut his eyes tight, attempting to resist the best he could but for him, the tides were too strong.

Wonwoo doubled over, wailing about his impending orgasm before he released inside you, hot and inevitable. You clenched into the heat, feeling it invade the depth of your core until it meant you were full. It was too late for you to stop your own crash of arousal that followed immediately after. Meanwhile, Jihoon, not wanting to make the same mistake, pulled out of you a string of salvia routing from your swollen lips to his swollen cock. He cupped the side of your cheek, smiling a tired smile, and kissed your face as Soonyoung was still in your mouth.

Unlike his friend, you milked Soonyoung dry, carnally taking every drop of his load he squeezed out between in his deep, aching groans. Either of his hands collapse the side of your head, pushing your lips against the base before dropping it inside you. “Take it, baby, swallow my cum.” Pockets full of cum lumped the column of your throat and traveled like an assembly line as you swallowed.

“Y/n…oh my god, like that…every drop….”

Eventually, positions shifted. Your lips connected back with Jihoon, while Soonyoung covered your backside, eating your pussy like it was the best thing in the fucking world. “Your pussy is the best thing in the fucking world.” He really spoke his mind.

Soonyoung proved himself to be a messy eater, tongue fucking you sideways, while the remainder of Wonwoo’s cum and yours slid all over his mouth. He felt it dribble down his chin, down his neck, even his chest. He was so turned on by such a filthy feast, it made him easy to find his cock. Thrusting and fisting himself, he edged his patience with quick brief intervals, stopping abruptly as soon as he felt close.

Jihoon smiled against your lips as he clashed with your tongue, fighting for your attention with his hands through your hair. “He feel good, hmm? I’m about to make you feel better. Come here.”

You did as he ask, Soonyoung’s lips following after, until the head of Jihoon’s cock prodded at your entrance, wet with teasing. Your whines, barely audible in the kiss, soon melted like milk chocolate, and Jihoon’s cock eased inside you just as easily as it eased out. He thrusted in you at an achingly slow rhythm, while Soonyoung’s eyes followed the motion like memorizing a dance.

“I wish you could see from this angle how she’s taking it.” He spread your cheeks apart, and the gap of your warmth fluttered at the draft the second Jihoon pulled out. “You look fucking delicious, Y/n.”

Soonyoung gave you both a subtle signal before whipping his cock, angry and red at being left out. He steadied your body, Jihoon’s cock insistent on being inside, but that was no problem. Soonyoung teased your preoccupied hole, lubing himself with the pre-made mess, and eased himself in. He now felt what he could only describe as solid euphoria, breath-stealing and innate perfection.

Your molten walls melted around their cocks, and their deep, merciless plunges fill the every crevice of your body, as your back came in a perfect arch. Moans stayed stuck in your throat, trembling in a pleasurable ache. You lost yourself in the fullness you felt letting them fuck you and use you like the toy you’ve become. “F-fuck yes…more please…don’t stop…”

Jihoon moaned after you, lips puckering in pleasure. His head dipped back in the sheets, feeling like he was having sex for the first time all over again. A new, foreign feeling that makes him feel like seconds away from cumming. In soft whispers, he begged for it slow, swallowing his whimpers but showing weakness obvious weakness. It made you absolutely insane. You were the one taking two dicks in you but Jihoon made it feel as if you had to worry about him. You tenderly caressed his cheeks in solace, reassuring him the way you could that you’d take care of him.

Out of your peripheral view, you hadn't noticed Wonwoo until he started talking with his phone in hand. He approached the space above your head, recording the lewd view as his cock was came to your eye level. He tilted your chin up with his middle and index to meet his face, unadulterated dark lust oozing out of his eyes. “So pretty already taking two cocks. They fucking your pussy good?”

“Yes, so good…” you answered, taking every pounding.

“You know what I want, right?”

Your hands were already in his shaft, feeling how hard even after already came. “Yes.”

His hand brushed the top of your head, tugging it back so your eyes stared back into the camera lens. A corner of his lisp quirked up, slowly in a sinfully dark voice he commanded, “Take my cock, Princess.”

Soonyoung held you up from your side, while Jihoon reunited with your tits. Slowly but surely, you leaned in to welcome the head of his cock on your tongue, licking through the slit. In a lewd manner, your eyes drift in a dream-like expression. Your tongue trailing down his length before spitting against the shaft and coating your lips in a glossy sheen.

“You really don’t get it, do you, Hae,” Wonwoo watched you through the screen, resisting the urge to not just completely fuck your mouth senseless at the moment, “Y/n was yours once, but she’s ours now. The difference is, we use our cocks right and put them in all the right places. You, however, will never know,” Wonwoo single-handedly wrapped your hair around his fingers in a makeshift ponytail, “what it’s like to be inside her again. We won’t let you.” from his grip, he pushed your head down to deep throat him, plugging the gap in which you’d normally breathe through.

Your eyes shut, tears burn down your cheek like liquid fire as you’re swirling your tongue around him before he pulled himself out, cussing under his breath. He zoomed in on your eyes, dazed and perfectly fucked, before sticking a thumb in your mouth, releasing a gleeful giggle. You looked like a new person entirely. Unrecognizable. Reborn.

“Did you like that, princess?”

You let out a low purr, “Yes, Wonwoo…more please...”

He sent the video before tossing his phone away and finishing what he started. His cock made himself home in your mouth once again, now savoring the sensation. Wonwoo doesn’t hold himself back now, fucking your mouth despite any physical resistance your mouth may make. It made you feel alive, useful, and last but most important, wanted.

“You look so beautiful, Princess…yes, take our cocks. You’re doing a beautiful job.”

Their praises spoke to you like prayer, descending upon you like a light while committing sin. “Cum, on my cock, Y/n. I can take it,” Jihoon insisted, trembling under your touch. Soonyoung nodded in agreement, legs faltering as expected from going at you for as long as he could. Wonwoo was even starting to look like he’d give in. Bodies covered in a layer of sweat and sex. You were grateful to be gifted another climax, shuddering on top of the begging man while you managed through with limited oxygen.

Orgasm after orgasm, they put you to ruin, and yet you never felt more on air. It felt like it went on forever, but everyone moved with urgency. In the end, they pour their cum into you like it was your purpose, every hole of yours practically leaking with ivory honey. You collapsed on the body beneath you, his tone arms held you in place. He kissed you where Wonwoo left another mess of his and made love against your mouth, and not a thought of anything else.

They stayed the night as planned. Your bodies, now cleaned after a long, thorough shower, cradled against each other in your borrowed clothes. You fit together like pieces to a full picture, not one without the other. You worried about the aftermath the next day, awaiting the utter chaos that could follow, but realized it was your own imagination worrying you because things went as normal.

Smiles on their faces, tender and welcoming eyes, only at this point it made you warm all over, memories of last night flooding your brain.

The only difference was the hundreds of messages flooding your inbox from your ex, and the now deeply intimate connection you’ve made with a group that you only saw as friends. The same deep connection that had you cumming again that same morning.

649 notes · View notes

cellythefloshie · 5 months

Text

;; You Are In Love

Dedicated to @senditcolton for her birthday bingo!

Summary: When your best friend Luc needs a plus one for his wedding, you don't question it. Even if the key term of pretending to be his girlfriend begs to be questioned.

Kinks & TW: unprotected sex (are we surprised?), mild choking, intoxication

Word Count: 11k+

A/N: I refused to be too late with posting this, so I stayed up late to finish writing it. Fair warning, it's not edited. So there are probably going to be some grammatical and spelling errors throughout. Now, with those cautions aside... Happy Birthday Nicole! I hope you had a wonderful day! Thank you for being such a wonderful part of the hockey rpf community! I hope you enjoy this mess of a fic that I threw together for you - and I apologize if it feels rushed. I know if I took the time this fic could have easily ended up being a whole novel.

Playlist.

Act 1.

Moving the prongs of your fork in circles around your plate, you pushed the contents that remained along the glass. You didn’t quite have the stomach to finish it, but couldn’t bring yourself to tell Luc you weren’t going to finish your plate. If you sat there long enough, if you held the casual conversation long enough, maybe you’d be able to finish it. But not even Luc had managed to clear his plate. Which you didn’t let go unnoticed. Luc had a routine, even during his off-season, and that included eating enough to maintain his busy training schedule.

That was your first clue that something wasn’t right. The second clue was that he hadn’t met your eyes since the two of you sat down to eat at the island in his kitchen. Instead, you found his eyes staring out the grand glass window overlooking Downtown Winnipeg. You had thought he might have been distracted by the bumper-to-bumper traffic down Portage Avenue as every nine-to-five worker headed out to their cabin for the weekend, or maybe the wail of the sirens that were so frequent you almost didn’t hear them anymore. That was until you saw his gaze flicker over your features for but a moment before falling to his plate. He too was just pushing around what remained.

Lowering your fork to rest across your plate, you pushed up to lean across the kitchen island, a little closer to your best friend. “Something on your mind?”

Your question drew his bright gaze back up to you, the corner of his lips curling up into a smirk that was framed by the mustache you had been trying to convince him to get rid of or at the very least blend into the rest of his beard. But not even his awkward mustache could distract you from his small smile as he pushed up from his seat and made the few steps that carried him to his fridge.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Luc started slowly, piquing your interest and drawing a soft oh from your lips as you pushed your plate aside so you could rest your elbows on the countertop. He stood with his back to you for a moment, and you could see the muscles of his back grow tense as he reached up to pull a single piece of paper from beneath a magnet on the fridge. He only had to turn around to be able to toss the thick white cardstock down, the very weight of the paper and the flick of his wrist giving it enough of a push to send it drifting into your reach.

It was an invitation, the text was a beautiful gold cursive and the paper itself was embossed with a beautiful floral pattern that was synonymous with a wedding. You traced your fingers over it slowly, your eyes dragging the two names that were only familiar to you because of Luc. He had spoken of the wedding when he had first received the invitation months ago. He and his girlfriend were to take the trip to Montreal together. But Luc was single now, and the wedding date was a mere week away.

“I want you to come with me,” his words were a statement, not a question as he leaned back against the fridge, as if the distance between you both would make it less likely for you to reject his offer.

It was a statement that left you staring at him, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, “No, no I shouldn’t.” Your hands raised, shaking from side to side as you offered your careful rejection. Then your lips fell into a ramble of excuses, “It’s really short notice. I won’t know anyone there and I would have anything to wear to something like-”

As you rambled you looked around his kitchen at anything but him. So you didn’t notice as Luc left where he leaned against the fridge and rounded the counter to stand at your side. There he coaxed you to silence with the softness of his name on his tongue and the careful touch of his hands on each side of your face. His warm touch spread over your cheeks and carefully guided your face to look up at his.

“I already have the plane tickets,” his words were soft, his eyes staring right down into yours as you pouted up at him, “and I will buy you a dress for the wedding. And one for the rehearsal dinner too, even if you like.”

“Rehearsal dinner?”

“Yeah,” his smile was a little crooked now as he was about to reveal just how busy your weekend would be if you agreed to go, “I’m in the wedding party and I ah-”

“You what, Luc?” you questioned, your voice firm. What wasn’t he telling you?

“And I told them I would be bringing my girlfriend.”

“Luc!” You shouted at him, your eyes going wide.

He didn’t need to put it into words, you knew exactly what he was suggesting without saying it. Pierre-Luc Dubois, your best friend since he arrived in Winnipeg after a literal run-in at the airport, not only wanted you to be his date to a wedding in Montreal, he wanted you to pretend to be his girlfriend. Just the proposition of it all made your hands sweat. You weren’t girlfriend material. At least not NHL girlfriend material. You didn’t fit the stereotypical cookie-cutter mold that came to mind when you thought of a WAG - even if you knew those stereotypes weren’t always true. Being Luc’s friend, you had the luxury of meeting a handful of the Jet’s wives and girlfriends and they quickly challenged every belief you had about what they were supposed to be prior. Though, you would be lying if there weren’t a few that were the very embodiment of what a hockey WAG was believed to be. Which wasn’t always a bad thing. And maybe, just maybe, pretending to be one would be fun.

“Okay,” you sighed after a moment of leaving him hanging in the silence of your contemplation, “I’ll come.”

With your words, you could practically see the tension leave his shoulder. They seemed to fall away from his neck and ears as his hands left the hot skin of your cheeks. But his touch didn’t leave you. His hand instead found your back as his arms would around you in a thankful embrace that echoed the thanks in his words as he spoke them into your hair.

Act 2.

Growing up in Winnipeg, you didn’t know all that much about Montreal. You knew what your school taught you; that French was their first language and there were often discussions about how they wanted to be their own country but beyond that you knew nothing about it, which terrified you as the plane made its landing in the historic city. That terror sunk further into your gut when Luc led you out into the airport where you quickly discovered your beginner-level French wouldn’t cut it.

The rush of the French language being spoken so fluently around you left your head spinning and your stomach in knots. If you were alone, you surely would have thrown up and caught a flight back home, but Luc was your anchor. Your savior, as he reached out for your arm and kept you close as the two of you navigated through the airport and the city together.

Luc spoke so you didn’t have to, the French leaving his lips so fluently it left you jealous. While, if you wanted to say anything there would be a long pause as you thought about what exactly you had to say. Even then, it was probably wrong, and you knew it was when Luc would give you a crooked smile and his eyes would water as he held back a chuckle that was threatening to creep up his throat. He did it in the cab, and again in the hotel lobby as you tried to keep up with the conversation at the check-in desk. But he didn’t comment on it until you were alone in the elevator, making the ascent up to your floor.

“You know, you don’t have to force yourself to speak French, especially with me while we’re here. I have no issue with translating for you,” his words were kind, but they still tied your stomach into knots - or maybe that was just how quickly the elevator seemed to rise from the ground up.

“It’s that bad, huh?” You tried to hide your insecurity, but your own voice betrayed you. It had broken as you spoke, and that alone only brought you more embarrassment. It left your palms sweaty and had the handle of your bag slipping from your hold. It fell to the ground in an awkward clamor, leaving you flinching and apologizing as you reached out for it, but Luc’s hands beat you there.

He would be carrying your bags the rest of the way.

“You’re doing your best,” Luc assured as the elevator chimed, you had reached your floor.

He continued to speak as he led the way, “but you’re here as a favor to me. The least I can do is assure that you are enjoying yourself, and you can’t do that if you’re constantly trying to figure out what needs to be said.”

You stood behind Luc with your arms crossed over your chest and your eyes on his feet. You used them as your guide, not once looking up at him because you hated that he was right. The entire trip was going to be a struggle if you didn’t look to him for his help, but the last thing you wanted was to have to rely on a man’s help to do anything. You had gone years without a boyfriend. Years without needing a man to do anything for you, but now you needed Luc just to get through the simplest interactions. And it left you pouting.

“I don’t want your help,” you pouted at him, following in his wake as he opened the room’s door and led the way inside.

“Keyword, want,” Luc sighed, and you heard him place the bags down on the floor, “but you do need it,” he said your name so softly it had your gaze rising from the floor in search of his face.

Your eyes didn’t find Luc, they had been quickly distracted by the simple elegance of the room and the one bed that had been placed at the center of a beautiful accent wall. You looked around quickly. The room was small, with a grand window just beyond the bed, and a television on the opposite wall. Then there were two doors. One that would open up to a small closet and the other for the bathroom.

You swallowed hard, your eyes rolling back as you let out an exasperated sigh, “One bed? Really?”

You shouldn’t have been so surprised. He hadn’t been single when he originally made the reservations, and you couldn't blame him for not requesting an updated room. You were both adults. You both knew where your boundaries had been set. And while you were playing pretend, you were friends. Luc respected you. You knew he did. If he didn’t, he would have tried to pull something stupid with you a long time ago.

Yet, your stomach was left fluttering the nervous butterflies at the thought of having to sleep beside him. The thought of having to feel the warmth of his body so close to yours-

And you felt it then, pulling you from your thoughts before they could spiral as he came to stand behind you. Luc’s body was warm, so warm that you could feel it radiating against your own body before you could feel the touch of his hands against your arms. His touch dragged down in a reassuring caress before you could feel the strength of his chest brush against your back as you both stood together, looking over the king-sized bed.

“Don’t you trust me?” He punctuated the question with your name, his words teasing as he reached up and took your jaw in the hold of one hand. Luc guided your gaze back to look at him, his face so close to yours you could feel his hot exhale as you muttered out a simple, “I trust you.”

“Good,” Luc breathed out, then guided your head to the side just enough to place a sweet kiss on your cheek before every part of you was void of his touch and his heat as he returned to the bags, “because I was not going to offer to sleep on the floor.”

“Wow,” you gasped to mock him, “such a gentleman.”

“I’m going to be on my best behavior for you this weekend,” he promised with a grin that left you wondering how close to lying he may be. Luc always did like to cause a little trouble, “but only if you start getting ready, we have to be at the rehearsal in just over an hour.”

Raising a brow at him, you looked at an invisible watch on your wrist, “I don’t know, Luc. I can’t get ready for such an important function in less than an hour.”

“You just have to change into your dress-”

“And do my makeup, and fix my hair, and-”

Luc stood up, taking a single stride to bring him to stand toe to toe with you. His bright eyes narrowed, his stare dragging over your face as he tried to compose himself, but you could see the smile that tried to creep up at the corner of his lips as he spoke, “Just get changed before I have to drag you down to a Taxi. Besides, you look great.”

And he wasn’t wrong. You did look great. You had gone to the salon the day before to get your hair and nails done just for the occasion. The stylist had given you a tight curl, something that when you slept on it the curls would still be there but softened. You wouldn’t have to do much more than smooth out a flyaway. And you’d keep your makeup simple. Mascara, eye shadow, lipstick, and brows were all soft and natural. It would only take you a few minutes, but you still took the opportunity to tease him and be a little dramatic for the fun of it. You expected him to threaten to rush you out like he had, but what you hadn’t expected was the compliment. And it left you biting down on your tongue, unsure of how to accept it from him.

“That’s what the beauty sleep on the plane gifted me,” you joked after a minute of contemplation as you slipped into the bathroom, out of sight.

Luc mocked you with exaggerated snores as the two of you got ready in separate rooms. You were in the bathroom, while he remained in the main room. You didn’t need more than five minutes in front of the mirror with your makeup bag. Everything going on flawlessly for the first time probably ever. But when it came to putting on your dress, you struggled to reach the zipper that ran up the center of your back.

“I hate to do this but-” you spoke as you came to stand in the doorway, but your tongue seemed to swell before you could get your full sentence out.

Luc was leaning back against the dresser, his suit pants undone and his belt threatening to bring them down the length of his legs if the weight of the buckle dipped down a little too low, and he had yet to button up his pale dress shirt. It hung off his shoulder, his bare chest on full display, right down the treasure trail that ran down his abdomen and disappeared behind the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“What was that?” Luc’s hands were trying to fix his tie that had become unmanageable in his suitcase. But you barely noticed the silken fabric, you were too caught up in how his muscles tensed with his every moment. It left your skin hot, you could only hope you weren’t blushing.

“I’ll help you with your tie if you zip up my dress,” you offered, your words softer, less playful than you had intended them to be when you first entered the room.

“Can you tie one of these?” Luc arched his brow.

“You can’t?”

He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes leaving you to glance anywhere else before he pushed up from the dresser. You couldn’t tell if Luc was embarrassed, or if he was just being kind and looking away from you as you struggled to keep the unzipped dress held against your body with the clutch of your own hands over your breasts. You clutched the fabric to your chest. Your own grip amplified your own cleavage as you went braless for the dress. It was a risk but also a comfort. But you couldn’t help but wonder if that was the very reason that Luc was so hesitant to be near you.

Your friendship with Luc in many ways was still young, even if the two of you were close. But that meant the two of you had a lot of firsts left to experience together, including some things you didn’t think you’d ever experience together, which included pretending to be his girlfriend and standing in front of him so vulnerably in the middle of the hotel room. Clutching your dress a little tighter on his approach you stiffened up and stepped out of the doorway to give Luc room to stand behind you. And you held your breath as his hands found the zipper of your dress. One pinching the sleek pull tab while the other made sure it guided effortlessly up the zipper’s teeth instead of pinching your skin.

His fingers dragged over your skin as the zipper traveled up, stopping only when the zipper had reached the very top and they were left to graze over your flesh. You could feel as the pads of his fingers stroked over you, in a way that you were sure was done without thought. Moving up until they found your hairline. Then, he followed it, finding where you had your hair thrown over one shoulder before fixing it to hang down your back. Even then his touch seemed to linger, leaving your breath held in your chest as your eyes fell to the floor.

Luc had never touched you like that before.

So carefully.

So slowly.

Hell, had he ever really touched you?

Sure, the two of you had shared the occasional hug. Your hands would bump and collide on occasion. When the confines were close, you could feel the heat of his body. And he was never shy about taking your head in his hands when you weren’t listening to him or he wanted to assure you that you were okay, but this? This was different. This was his skin against yours. His fleeting touch in places you were sure he hadn’t even thought of touching you before. And it lingered as you stepped forward, cleared your throat, and reached a near trembling hand out for his tie that lay limp over the end of the dresser.

It was only with it in your hands, distracted by the silken material that you found your composure. Then, you showed Luc how to tie his tie, pausing on occasion to make sure he was paying attention because you were only going to help him with this once.

If there was one thing you were good at, it was faking your way through awkward situations. You could put on a smile, and hide any feeling of awkwardness with false confidence with ease. And you couldn’t have been more grateful for that as you found yourself consumed by the rehearsal dinner. You had hoped that you would have been nothing more than a fly on the wall. That you could make your pleasantries with small smiles and sweet I’m great, how are you’s, but you were wrong. You found yourself to be a popular wedding guest, all thanks to Luc.

He wasn’t the only NHL player that was going to be in attendance, but he was the only one in the bridal party. Which made him a popular target for conversation outside the bride and groom. And by proxy, you were too.

After the rehearsal itself, and sitting down to eat, when there was time left to mingle every single conversation started with an introduction. It was always the same, with Luc’s hand finding the small of your back and stroking it slowly as he said your name and introduced you as your temporary, fake title: girlfriend. And every single time it had the same effect on you. His touch would coax you in closer to him, your body leaning into his so casually, so effortlessly it was as if you had done it many times before. It made you smile too, so wide, yet so softly that you looked excited to meet stranger after stranger. It hid that you were completely overwhelmed by the introductions and the switch from French to English and back to French again in the conversation. When in reality, you just liked how it sounded leaving his lips, you liked how it left you giddy with butterflies in your belly. And you liked how his hand never left you for in that moment, you were his.

It was so easy to play pretend with Luc. Your chemistry was so natural because that was how it had always been. The two of you had always been comfortable with one another, especially since you had always just clicked. It was all of the lingering touches and knowing glances that were new to both of you.

Luc would meet your gaze med conversation, his lips curling into a smirk almost as if he was on the verge of laughter before he forced himself to look away. You were sure it was his attempt at trying to find his composure, that and how his grip on your waist, or hip if it had slid downwards throughout the conversation, would grow a little tighter.

It left you on edge all night in the best way. Your heart racing in your chest right up to the moment the two of you took to the Montreal streets together after dinner.

The streets were left wet from the rain that had started to fall sometime after you had arrived at dinner. It reflected the city lights, glistening beautifully even as your rushed footsteps splashed through the puddles. The rain continued to fall, hitting the ground hard and leaving you to shiver as it dripped down the angles of your face and down the curves of your body. It would not be long until your dress was soaked right through, and Luc must have noticed.

The moment the two of you were forced to stop at a red light, a mere block away from the hotel, Luc was stripping off his coat. He draped it over his arms and held it up high over the both of you in an attempt to keep you dry. But it was already too late. Your dress was sticking to your skin, and Luc was only getting wetter. You could see it in the red glow of the stoplight. The cold, wet rain soaked into the white fabric, leaving it to cling to the muscles that had already threatened the tight shirt.

While he was failing, you appreciated the effort, your heels clicking against the sidewalk as you stepped in just a little closer to his cover to keep you from the rain. The close proximity, paid with your unsteady feet left your body colliding with his. It was a gentle bump, one that left you reaching out to steady yourself against his chest, and laughing out an apology as you looked up at him.

Luc’s features were aglow with the red tint of the stoplight, his expression one you could quite place. It left you to narrow your eyes, your lips parting in a slow, curious, breath. He wasn’t quite smiling, and his eyes fixated completely on you. It was a soft stare, one comparable to what you would have after a long night's sleep. After sweet dreams, and before you had to force yourself to get out of bed. But you weren’t dreaming. Neither of you were as you stared at one another, the glow of the lights going from red, to green and red again before Luc leaned in.

You held your breath, your bottom lip trembling as his smirk grew.

“Don’t you trust me?”

You let out an unsteady exhale, one that left your entire body shivering as you nodded.

Frozen, your eyes didn’t leave Luc’s face as he lowered his coat back down to hang off his shoulders. The cold rain met the skin of your face again, but it was only for a moment. Then, all you felt was warmth.

If came first with the touch of Luc’s hands against your cheeks. That touch alone had sent heat flooding through your entire body. It only burned hotter as Luc leaned, the very proximity of his face sending your eyes fluttering shut. And then you could feel him. His breath washed over your face in a heated wave that came crashing down on you with the kiss of his lips against your own.

If you had the air, you would have gasped.

But his kiss consumed you so fully, that all you were left to breathe was Luc.

Every single one of your senses was met by him. You could taste him, and the drinks he had consumed throughout the night on your tongue. You could smell that distinct scent of his cologne. You could feel him, and the strength of his chest beneath your palms as your hands rested on his chest, so close to clutching at the fabric of the tie. And he was the first thing you saw as you drew back and let your eyes open.

You wanted to ask him why he had kissed you, but you were at a loss for words as you stood there, and so was he. There were only smiles shared between you as his hand found your back and let him guide you through the crowded streets back to the hotel.

It was a silence that hung over the two of you as you returned to your hotel room and split off into separate rooms to get ready for bed. You claimed the bathroom once more. It was there you struggled to unzip on your own, and as you struggled you battled the simple thought that you could ask Luc to help you with it. That he could unzip it for you. Yet, you struggled alone. It took you a long time to work the zipper free, your body straining and weakening with every awkward reach that would send the dress to the floor in a wet heap. Then, you washed your face free of the makeup that had held up surprisingly well in the rain, before you used the fluffy white hotel towel to dry your hair.

Warm and dry, you went through the rest of your night routine which included brushing your teeth and pulling on a pair of pajamas you found yourself regretting. You had packed them thinking you would have your own bed. They were your favorite, comfortable, with fabric light to keep you from getting too hot during the night. And they cover enough. You had planned to wear them to lounge around the hotel room, knowing full well that Luc would see you in them. But sleeping next to him in them was different. You knew the fabric would shift and move in your sleep, and the risk of waking up with one or both of your breasts hanging out was a high probability.

The risk sat like a rock in the bottom of your stomach as you stepped out of the bathroom and stood awkwardly for a moment in the doorway. The kiss was still heavy in your mind. You didn’t know why he had done it, what his intentions may have been. Maybe he was just caught up in the moment. In the love that filled the atmosphere of the rehearsal dinner and bled into every interaction with everyone afterward. But you didn’t let yourself look too much into it. Not when you knew you were just here pretending to be his girlfriend. But that didn’t mean you weren’t nervous to crawl in next to him when you could practically still feel the warmth of his kiss against your lips.

“The bathroom’s all yours,” you told him from the doorway, and it drew his eyes straight to you.

During your time spent in the bathroom, Luc had shed his clothes and sat shirtless on his side of the bed. His shoulders were slumped and his neck craned down to look at his hands before your words piqued his interest.

“Thanks, I won’t be long,” Luc assured as you watched him place his phone face down on the bedside table, “just set the alarm. The downside of being in the wedding party is an early start.”

Your hands came together in front of your stomach, your fingers picking at one another as you stepped out of what would be his path to the bathroom. But you didn’t crawl into bed. You hovered around it, pacing up and down what you assumed would be your side of the bed as you listened to Luc beyond the threshold of the bathroom. He had left the door open, the water running and the buzz of his electric toothbrush too loud to be ignored, and it kept drawing your gaze.

“What time do you have to be there?”

“They’re asking before eleven,” he called back out to you after you heard him spit into the sink, “enough time to get ready, and the session with the photographer before the ceremony.”

“Which was at what time again?”

“Three,” he answered simply, “gives you lots of time to sleep in and get ready, that is unless you want to come with me.”

“I shouldn’t-”

“But you can, they wouldn’t say no - they like you.”

“Do they?”

It shouldn’t have mattered if they did. You probably wouldn’t be meeting them again after this weekend, but it made you smile to know that you had made a good impression. That was the reason you were there after all, right? To be good company for Luc? The question crossing your mind left your brows to furrow. You never really did come to understand why you were there. He had asked you to go because he already marked down going with a plus one before his breakup. But why did he have to tell people you were his girlfriend? That you had never been answered.

“Hey, Luc-” you started, moving to lean against the door frame of the bathroom. You peeked around it, the question on the very tip of your tongue only for it to be lost at the sight of him.

Luc stood hunched over the sink, his hands pressing a towel to his face but it didn’t stop the water from dripping down the angles of his bare chest. The sight of it was enough to leave you mute, but when his eyes found you, his expression consumed by the softest of smiles as he waited for you to say something, anything, you choked out any words you could manage.

“Is it alright if I turn the lights off?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right in,” Luc said, and you peeled yourself away from the wall.

It hadn’t been what you wanted to say, and the question would eat at you all through the night - and maybe even the entirety of the trip - but you struggled to find your composure with Luc now. It had been easy before. He had been nothing more than your closest friend, but that was before he kissed you.

It hadn’t been a simple kiss. Nor was it fleeting. Luc had stopped you there in the street and kissed you so deliberately, and you didn’t know why. There was so much you wanted to know, so many questions that needed answers, but you didn’t know how to ask them.

So instead, you suffered in silence.

You turned off the lights, sending the room into darkness with the exception of the warm glow of the bathroom light bleeding into the room. It illuminated your every moment, casting your shadow across the bed and dancing over the hotel room walls as you pulled back the blanket and crawled into bed.

The cool, crisp sheets welcomed your body, sending a shiver straight through you as you hadn’t quite recovered from the rain’s cold. And for a moment, you thought you may never. That was until the bathroom lights went dark, and you felt the opposite side of the bed shift as Luc climbed in. He was more than an arm’s reach away. Yet, you could feel his warmth.

You tried to ignore it, and how it radiated over the sheets and into the blanket. But then Luc rolled over, and his legs brushed yours so quickly it could have only been an accident. The feeling lingered against your skin, his hairy legs so coarse against your legs that you shaved before dinner and would shave them again before the wedding tomorrow. The contrast of your contact should have left you flinching away, but it was drawing you in. Your legs bent a little more just to feel him.

It was a slow, careful drag. The inside of your leg moving up and over his. It was then you realized just how small the bed felt with Luc in it. Just how close his body was to yours.

Then he rolled over again. Leaving you flinching back as he tossed and turned.

Both of you were restless.

You were too afraid to roll over, and Luc constantly moved in an attempt to get comfortable. Both needed sleep, but it failed to take you.

Your mind was too focused on the kiss and on his warmth.

It left your body quivering with a heavy breath as you shifted from your side to your back, and finally to your other side where you finally came face to face with a sleepless Luc.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, his voice a low whisper, so low that it was almost a growl in the dark.

You shook your head, your hair surely becoming a mess between your head and the pillow.

There wasn’t much you could see through the darkness. But what you could see, left you holding your breath. There was a glimmer of light coming in through the window and you weren’t sure if it was a street light or if the clouds cleared and let in the light of the moon. No matter what it was, the light caught Luc’s eyes, his stare on your features. It dragged down from your eyes, down over the angle of your nose only to drop to your lips where they lingered before gliding back up again. And it illuminated his chain, a silver gleaming, as it hung off his neck, down his chest and shoulder, and down onto his arm that he used as his pillow.

It was a chain he always wore. One that hung off his neck all night, and all day, even when he was out on the ice. He kept it trapped between his equipment, his cross over his heart. And you knew it. Something so familiar, shouldn’t have been so captivating, but it was drawing in your touch. Your arm reached out, your fingers meeting the warm chain before they slipped and landed on his chest.

Your lips parted, your tongue ready to curse for being so careless but your larynx was left weak. You couldn’t find your words, your throat closer to gasping as Luc was leaning in, closer. Closer. So close you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin and his lips found yours again.

Unlike the first time, Luc didn’t ask for your permission. He didn’t need to, because you had been leaning in too. You welcomed his kiss as your fingers coiled around his thick silver chain. If you could have twisted it around your index finger you would have, but instead, you fisted it in your hand, using the delicate tension to draw Luc in further.

You could not get him close enough, even with your lips joined together in a kiss that only grew deeper. You didn’t have to worry about being in the middle of the street now. No one was watching. It was just you and Luc, alone, together in the hotel bed. There was nothing but privacy, and no one to know that you had indulged yourself in the kiss of your best friend.

The best friend that you told all of your other friends that you didn’t like Luc like that. That that two of you were just friends and it would be weird to be anything more than that.

But there was no ignoring how good it felt to kiss him. To feel the roughness of his stubble against your face, and his tongue stroke along your own in your mouth. It had you melting, both metaphorically and physically. So much so that you pressed your legs firmly together in an attempt to combat the weakness between your legs that left your arousal to puddle in your panties.

It was the only thing you could do in restraint, but any thought of holding back was quickly fading as Luc’s hands began to explore your body. They were warm, and calloused from his days spent training in the gym for the coming season. And they ran down the angles of your arms before dropping to your waist. Fingers wrinkled the soft fabric of your pajamas, bunching it up around your ribcage so he could feel the soft warmth of your skin against his palms. Luc’s touch sent a shiver coursing down your spine, and a soft groan from his lips. One that sounded so sweet to your ears, and you felt it against your lips. It was the first of what would be a symphony of sounds.

Soft moans became groans that he guided you to straddle his waist. Your body on top of his, his between your thighs. It coaxed out heavy breaths, and desperate sighs as hands touched what had once been untouched. And you welcomed it, encouraged it as your body became consumed by need, by instinct, and your hips rolled to tease the stiffness of his cock that you could feel pressed up against your clothed core.

You could feel his smile grow against his lips at the simple action, his teeth coming down to tug at your lower lip in a playful nip that left your legs squeezing around his strong thighs. There was only so much more you could take, and he knew that too. He must have been able to see it, feel it, hear it as he pulled back and mumbled your name against the angle of your jawline.

There was a fine line between friendship and more. The kiss had toed that line. It had corrupted your mind with the thought of more, and the two of you found yourself on the very verge of crossing a line there would be no coming back from. If you fucked him, you wouldn’t be just friends anymore. You would be caught between friendship and something more. Something complicated, and undefined. Something that could threaten your friendship. There would be no going back to how things were before. That was clear, even with your clothes still on. The kiss changed everything, and put your friendship in jeopardy. Which made the choice you had to make easier.

You could lose him either way, so you would dive in head first.

No regrets.

“Take your clothes off,” you breathed out, a simple instruction, your decision made.

Together your bodies fumbled, your clothes not coming off fast enough. Limbs collided, your hands pulling off your top before you fell to the side to pull your bottoms and panties both off in swift motions that left you bare. He didn’t help you, and you didn’t help him, but once you both were naked your bodies met again. His hands found your hips, drawing you back to where you had once sat in his lap, and his mouth continued its sweet assault on your lips.

The first thing you did once Luc was between your legs again, your knees pressed down on the plush surface of the mattress, was let your hips resume their teasing roll. You had hoped to coax another groan from his lips, but this time you could feel his cock glide along your slick and it left you shuddering. If the sweetness of Luc’s lips hadn’t consumed your lips, you would have cursed him for just how good he felt without even being inside you. Your core clenched, and you did it again. And again. Your hips rolling, to and fro, Luc’s cock embraced by your body and coating him with your click.

The feeling had him throwing his head back, a sting of French words you didn’t understand leaving his lips like a sweet melody. Part of you wished you knew what he said, but a part of you loved it. The mystery of not knowing was sexy.

You teased Luc with the friction of your body, and the wetness of your arousal so much that it was almost a form of self torture. And he admired you the entire time you did it. His hands stroked over your body, along the curves of your body. Hands cupped at your breast, giving them a gentle squeeze, before trailing down. Fingertips left a grazing touch over your stomach, making the firm grapes of his hands around your hips all the more shocking. Biceps flexed as he lifted you up just enough to reach a single hand down to take hold of his cock.

Hair fell down into your face as you looked down, your eyes on his hand as it stroked his cock. The careful guidance of his hand brought the head of his cock to your core, and for a second you thought he might tease you. That he would drag the tip of his cock along your dripping entrance until you couldn’t take the teasing.

Luc had always looked like the type to want to tease his lover. To make them beg.

But maybe you didn’t know him as well as you thought you did. Or maybe he was just desperate for you because he didn’t waste time with you. Luc raised his hip, pressing his cock up into your eager core before his hand found your hip again to guide you down along his cock.

Legs quivered at the mere feeling of him, and your lips parted in a gasp at the fullness of his cock buried deep in your core. It left your head spinning, your eyes shut as you were seeing starts at the very pleasure of just feeling him. All of him.

You rode him slowly, your hips rolling as your hands came down to brace yourself against the strength of your chest. And you rode him until the muscles in your legs burned and your lips parted in a panting breath. It was then that Luc took hold of you and flipped you over until you lay flat on your back, and not once were you void o his cock. It remained buried deep inside your walls, and deeper once he had you laying out on your back.

His hands guided your legs to wrap around his hips, and your hips collided with his every impactful trust that left your core clenching. Yet, you were desperate for more.

Your hand that had found the mattress in a knuckle-white grasp left the white sheets and sought blinding for one of Luc’s hands. You found it, taking it in the hold of both of your own and guiding it to where you wanted his hold.

Around your throat.

His grasp was careful, yet firm as you stretched your neck out for him. The simple action brought another string of words you didn’t understand spilling from his lips.

Your core clenched.

He spoke again so lowly it was more of a growl, and his hold grew a little tighter. Luc could feel the effect it had on you as he fucked you. His every thrust was deep and steady, leaving you gasping, moaning, and quivering as he brought you closer and closer to the very peak of your pleasure. It left you gripping at his shoulders, your nails leaving half-moon crescents in his flesh, and your legs winding tight around him as you were lost in the pleasure of Luc. You were so completely consumed by him, mind and body, that your head was left spinning. It was a dreamy daze of pleasure, one that didn’t feel real as Luc buried himself right down to the hilt of his cock and unloaded deep into your core.

And he remained there, tired, panting, as he slumped down to lay in the bed, his hand finally falling away from your throat. Together, your bodies still joined as if they were one, you lay there. Panting, staring. Tired, but nowhere near ready to sleep. It was the perfect time to let regret and doubt consume you.

But then Luc smiled.

You smiled too.

And you regretted nothing.

When you woke up in the morning, Luc was already gone. He had gotten up early with his alarm, and left you to sleep in after your unexpectedly late night together. But it wasn’t without thought. Luc had brought breakfast back up to the room and had left the note. You would have until two in the afternoon to enjoy your day. Then, a town car would be at the hotel to pick you up. It would bring you to the cathedral, where he would meet you after the reception.

You spent the day in bed, making no effort to dress in anything more than the complimentary robe. You picked at the breakfast he left for you and sipped the coffee that was left along with it. After the night you had, you would need the caffeine to get through the day. Then, when the time wound closer and closer to two, you stepped into the shower and washed away the salt of sweat that remained on your skin, and the remnants of Luc that had dried on the inside of your thighs.

A part of you felt that what happened was all a dream. That you may be dreaming still. But little things brought you back to reality. The tenderness of your core with every stride around the hotel room as you got dressed. The heat of your curling iron when you held it a little too close to your neck. And the shrillness of your alarm at 1:30 all kept you grounded as you rode out the high of your night.

There was an elegance in your stride as you made your way through the hotel lobby. One that had a bit of a hop in your step, and a confidence in your smile as you waved to the bellboy who admired your body in your dress as you made your way out the doors and out into the streets where you met the town car.

It was a quick ride to the cathedral, and you fell straight into the chaos that came with a wedding. There were what felt like hundreds of people, and you were merely one of them as you found an empty seat near the back. You sat in the pew, your eyes admiring the stained glass, the beautiful architecture, and the almost sickeningly sweet atmosphere of love that consumed every person and every little detail in the cathedral. Normally, it would have left your nose wrinkled with disgust. You hated weddings. You didn't believe in love. But you were consumed so fully by the afterglow of sex, and it left you in love with the idea of love.

Then, the music began to play, and the ceremony began.

You were sure that you would be lost in the crowd. Just one face lost among family and friends closer to the bride and groom than you could ever be, but Luc found you the moment he stepped through the door with a pretty bridesmaid on his arm.

Your eyes locked, and you held your breath. He acknowledged you with a subtle nod, and your hand raised in a small wave as you admired him. Luc looked too good in his suit, the pants just a little tight around his thighs, and the color of his tie matched the hue of his eyes. It is a color you admire throughout the ceremony, his gaze finding yours as the bride and groom exchanged their vows, and again when they shared their first kiss as husband and wife.

By the end of it all, you wanted nothing more but to kiss him. But could you?

Sure, you were pretending to be his girlfriend, but last night left you were too many unanswered questions. Did the night have the same effect on you as it did you? Was this more than just pretending? You wouldn’t get your answers.

But you did get your kiss.

Luc found you in the crowded church as the guests, his hands falling to your waist to draw you in. You stood flush against him, and one of his hands raised to capture your chin between his thumb and forefingers to guide you up for a slow, simple kiss. And when he pulled back, his soft smile silenced any question that sent anxiety coursing through you.

It was the first of many kisses that peppered your evening. Luc kissed you sweetly when he left to sit at the head table and you were forced to mingle with strangers. He kissed you again when he found you after the first few dances, his hands guiding you out onto the dancefloor to dance together. And again before he left you alone at your table with the promise of returning with a flute of pink champagne.

It would be your third, or fourth, drink of the night. You hadn’t exactly been counting. You had one to sip in your hands while you socialized and you needed another after dancing. One after the other, you welcomed its sweet taste and the feeling of the bubbles against your tongue. And you welcomed the warm fuzzy feeling that came with drinking it. It left you too comfortable in the crowded room. Too comfortable with having Luc’s hands on your body, and his lips on your lips, as you spoke to his friends, to strangers, as his girlfriend.

The title garnered a crowd. Everyone wanted to know how you met, how long you were together, and every little detail that you were willing to offer them. The questions were easy to answer because you didn’t have to lie. And those you did have to create some kind of answer for, were born from truth. But handing it all alone in Luc’s absence, while he was taking longer than expected to get you a drink, left you overwhelmed and desperate for a moment alone.

Excusing yourself with a smile, you promised to return once you found Luc, and you began to walk past the crowded dancefloor towards the bar. Your steps were unsteady, the buzz of the champagne coursing pleasantly through your body as you pushed your way through crowds. You kept your eyes sharp, looking for Luc in the winding line at the bar only for your brows to furrow. He wasn’t there. You stopped in place, turning in place slowly, trying to find where he could have wandered off to.

You didn’t find him at the head table with the bride and groom who were still on the dancefloor. He was with the maid of honor who was trying to prepare the cake for cutting. And he wasn’t with the groomsmen on the way back from smoking cigars. No, you found him in the shadows by the bathrooms, tucked away from the chaos. And he wasn’t alone.

You couldn’t see who he was with at first as you pushed through the crowd to meet him. But then, as you got closer, you wish you hadn’t.

Luc was tucked away with his ex.

They were standing a little too close for comfort. His hands were cradling each of her cheeks, her hands resting atop his, as he stood, arched over so that she could hear him speak in his hushed tones. You could see his lips moving, but you couldn’t hear a single word. But you didn’t need to. His body said it all, as did the look on her face. Her eyes were glassy, her lips swollen, and her hands clutching at his tie. Your mind was quick to connect the dots, jumping to one conclusion, and one conclusion only.

Luc had brought you there to make her jealous.

And it worked.

She wanted him back, and you were sure you had just caught them at the end of kissing and making up.

There was a heaviness that consumed your gut. It was a coiling of regret and naivety sitting there like a rock as you were sobered by your own anger. How could you have been so stupid to think that this was the opportunity for the both of you to be something more?

It left a sour taste in your mouth as you stumbled back, running into guests you didn’t know and drawing too much attention to yourself. You muttered out rushed apologies, your voice breaking but you were nowhere near tears. You were too angry to cry, but you knew you needed to get out of there before that anger boiled down to sorrow.

Quick steps carried you to your table, your hand grabbing your clutch like you were Indiana Jones stealing a treasured idol and a large bolder was now in full pursuit. But your bolder was Luc.

You could hear him calling after you as you pushed your way to the exit. You ran when you could, but it would never be fast enough. You couldn’t outrun him if you tried. And when he finally caught up to you, you were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, dazed by the rush of traffic on the busy Montreal street.

There was nowhere else for you to go, so you turned around and you faced him.

“You knew she was going to be here, didn’t you?” You threw your words at him, the question emphasized by the honking of Montreal city traffic as you stood in the center of the sidewalk, crowds from the wedding and general foot traffic moving around the both of you in a blur. And you just stared at him, waiting for an answer, an answer he couldn’t give you, because he knew you wouldn’t like it. He did know she was going to be here, you could see it in the ashamed look on his face, and the sad look in his eyes. And you should have known that too. They had been together for years. His friends were her friends too.

It made you want to scream, but instead, you took a few steps towards him, your palms meeting the strength of his chest to shove him back towards the door of the venue.

“You’re a fucking joke,” you said, your voice not once losing its harsh confidence even if it so desperately wanted to break like your heart already had deep in your chest.

“You could have saved me and yourself a lot of trouble if you had just come alone, Luc. But no, everything is always so complicated with you. You can’t make anything easy. You’ve got to make her jealous right? So it’s all the more satisfying when you get her back into your bed.”

Your name slipped from his lips, a desperate plea as he tried to reach out to you. You stared at his hand for only a moment, his reach so tempting to reach out to. He wanted you to take it, to hold your hand and draw you in. What he would do after that, you didn’t know. And you wouldn’t find out. You would rather step out into traffic. And you did. Your heels met the wet roadway, splashing through the shallow puddles as you came to stand between parked cars.

“We were just-”

You almost groaned at the sound of his voice. You didn’t want to hear it anymore. So you cut in before he could try to feed you any excuse he could come up with.

“Pretending? Your head cocked to the side, an unpleasant smile on your lips, “you’re right. We were. All of this was just fucking pretend. So I’m done pretending.”

Throwing your hands up, you moved further from the curb to hail a cab from the chaos of the Montreal city traffic. But Luc was moving into the street after you, his footsteps making your shoulders tense up before you could turn around and see that it was him.

“Can you just give me a second to fucking say anything?” His voice was strained with the frustration that was painted all over his face.

“Why should I?” You bit back.

“Just let me explain-”

“Explain, ha,” you laughed, “As much as I would love to see how you would justify this, I’ve given you more than enough of my time, Luc.”

The conversation didn’t end there.

Luc always needed to try to get the last word. “You’re impossible!”

But you never let him have it. “And you’re an asshole,” you told him with a forced smile before climbing into the cab that was holding up traffic in the street.

A symphony of honks was the background music as you told your destination to the driver. You would return to the hotel, spend the night there, and come morning you would catch your flight back to Winnipeg. After that, you hoped you’d never have to see Luc again. What he had done to you, in your mind, was unforgivable, and it sent you into tears as you sat alone in the back seat of the taxi cab.

Act 3.

It was the ring of the courtesy call that woke you up the morning after the wedding. Your flight was in a mere few hours, your checkout time dawning on you, and you couldn’t have been happier. The sooner you got home, the sooner you could try to forget what happened. You had tried to forget it already, but as you threw back your blanket, and swung your legs over the side of the bed to place your feet flat on the ground you were met by the biggest reminder of the mistakes you had made when agreeing to go to Montreal.

On the floor, draped under a decorative throw blanket, was Luc.

A sigh so heavy that you almost groaned rocked you. He sure had some balls to come back to the hotel room after what happened the night before. You had made it quite clear that you were less than impressed with him, and what he did. Surely he had to know the severity of his deceit. That it had not only been cruel to you but to his ex as well. The manipulation and the lies-

You stopped yourself midthought, your eyes falling to where he slept on the floor so peacefully. If he had come all the way out here playing pretend with you just to win his ex back, why was he here in the room?

It was a question you tried to ignore as you quietly changed into a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt to wear on the flight home. And one you pushed further into the back of your mind as you took a quick inventory of the hotel room bathroom to make sure you hadn’t left anything behind.

You shouldn’t care to know why he was there. But you did care enough not to let him miss his flight - or well, be the reason he missed it. Grabbing your packed back you nudged Luc in the back with your sneaker-clad foot on the way to the door. You didn’t greet him with pleasantries and instead met him with the same harshness he heard from you the night before.

“Get up asshole, you’re going to miss your flight,” you stood in the doorway long enough to watch Luc wake up in a panic. The last thing you saw on your way out the door was his hand lurching out to grab his watch to check the time.

You left him behind, your suitcase rolling in your wake as you followed the same route out of the hotel as you did the night before. You waved to the bellhop in the lobby, your smile a little weaker this time, and instead of meeting a town car, you found a vacant taxi and loaded your luggage into the back seat with you.

“Trudeau International Airport, please?” You asked of him with a sigh, your head leaning back against your seat.

You could have fallen asleep there, your eyes falling shut as you heard the turning signal of the cab begin its rythmic tick as he tried to merge into busy traffic. It was almost soothing, hypnotic, but it was broken by the abrupt opening of the back door.

Your eyes opened quickly, your body lurching defensively away from the door as your heart raced, startled. Your lips parted to yell at the idiot who didn’t see that the cab was already occupied, but you were met with the familiar face of Luc. You wanted to be relieved at the sign of him, but your disgust continued to bubble deep inside your gut. You couldn’t even bring yourself to tell him to fuck off and find another taxi. Instead, you sat in silence, your gaze leaving him and looking out the window to fixate on the buildings as they passed.

To your relief, Luc didn’t say a single word the entire ride to the airport. Not did he try to carry your bags when you arrived. Instead, he merely followed in your wake, until you came to the check-in counter. It was there you decided to let him go first.

It was an innocent thing. Something he didn’t even question as he checked in for the flight. A first-class seat that would take him back to Winnipeg. And he even lingered afterward, waiting for you to check in as if it had been a show of good faith. But in reality, it was the only way you could ensure you wouldn’t have to sit with him on the flight home.

“I was wondering if you had any other seat available?” You spoke to the airline representative who met you with a perplexed expression.

Luc wore one of the same, your name leaving his lips as if to beg you to change your mind.

You weren’t going to.

“There’s nothing else in first class,” the representative told you as if it were going to change your mind.

“Something in economy will do just fine,” you assured them with a nod, your grip on your bag growing tighter and you didn’t ease up on your grasp until the updated ticket was in your hands and you were ready to board.

There was a relief in going home. A relief in being able to spend the flight alone, but it wasn’t without one last attempt from Luc. He spoke your name so softly, so gently, that for a moment you considered listening to him. You hesitated in place, your eyes raising to meet his as he reached out for your arm. He gripped it carefully, not too hard, just enough to keep you in place. Just enough to assure that you would listen to what he had to say.

“I made you this,” Luc spoke slowly, his free hand raising to show you his phone screen. On it, Spotify was open for you to see, a playlist labeled i’m sorry the only thing you could see. It was a playlist of twenty or more songs, you wouldn’t quite see, and want to get close enough to see. “Listen to it on the flight home?”

Your eyes stared at it for a moment, your tongue parting your lips to lick over them slowly as your mouth went dry. “I’ll think about it,” was all you could offer him before you pulled out of his hold and stepped aside. First class was boarding, and you were in his way.

Luc lingered for a moment more, his eyes fixated on you until he let out a defeated sigh and left you standing alone waiting to board. It would be some time before you were called to board, yet you stood, lingering where he left you. It was there, waiting for your call to board that curiosity got the best of you.

Your thumb stroked over your phone screen, bringing it to life with its light and pulling open Spotify with the click of a single button. There, you found Luc’s profile and the playlist he had made for you. Twenty-five songs. 1 hour, 30-plus minutes long. It had artists you knew, and others you didn’t. Songs that were your favorite, and some you didn’t even know what they would sound like. It wouldn’t last the entire flight, but it would kill time, and maybe it would help you understand.

Quickly you downloaded the list, and when you boarded the plane and found your seat, you pressed play.

Kiss Her You Fool.

Take Me to Church.

Where Do We Go From Here?

Now or Never.

They were just a handful of the songs Luc had compiled onto the playlist for you. The playlist you had listened to from start to finish, and then started again before you had landed in Winnipeg. It had taken you through a rollercoaster of emotions. You smiled. You laughed. You cried. And it left your heart heavy in your chest as you collected your bag and made your way out to hail a cab.

You did not completely understand what Luc was trying to say with the song he put together. Some confused you. Others gave you hope. But what you did know, was that you owed him an apology.

You fumbled with your belongings and your phone as you stood on the platform, taxis waiting for their next passenger in front of you, as you began to dial his number. You were halfway through it when the long honk of a horn drew your eyes up, and you found Luc leaning against his car, waiting for you.

“What are you doing-” you started, your ace blanketed with confusion as you began to take slow, cautious strides toward him.

He had reached through the driver’s side window to honk at you before rounding to stand at the hood of his car. Arms crossed over his chest, his tattoos on full display as he left his sweatshirt and back in the backseat of his car.

“I owe you a ride home,” he told you simply. It had always been the plan, but you hadn’t intended to take him up on it after what had happened.

“I think you owe me a little more than that,” you told him, trying not to smile as you tossed your phone at him.

He caught it effortlessly, the screen on, and displaying his playlist.

Luc smiled.

“You listened to it?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“Explain,” was all you told him.

“You’re my best friend,” he said your name, and it oozed with the pain he felt for the pain he caused you, “I didn’t do any of this to hurt you. I invited you because… Well,” he sighed, “because you’re right. I’m a shitty person. The break up a few months ago, was because of you. She didn’t like how close you and I were. She wanted me to distance myself from you, and that wasn’t something I was willing to do. Then she gave me the ultimatum. You or her. And I chose you.”

A lump formed in your throat, you swallowed it back and held your breath.

“When I invited you. My intentions weren’t the best. I wanted to mess with her, and that was wrong for me to do. Not just to her, but to you too. But I’m glad I did-”

“Luc-” you gasped out, both in shock at his words and his lack of regret for his actions.

“I’m not finished,” he cut in, “I’m glad I did because playing pretend with you, fuck, it wasn’t just pretending.” Luc stepped away from the car, and you were frozen in place, watching him as he approached. Your bag slipped from your hold, falling to the ground as your hands reached out to welcome his body as he stepped so close to your own as he took your head in his hands and drew you in so close to his lips you could feel his words in a hot breath against your skin, “Because I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time.”

It wasn’t much of an apology, but it was the explanation you asked for. It wasn’t what you expected to hear, but you liked hearing it. It made you smile as you reached up, your hands finding the nape of his neck and knitting in his hair as you drew him in for a kiss.

You loved him too.

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