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godslino · 4 months

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PIECE BY PIECE | minho first date series. friends to lovers.

pairing: minho x fem!reader word count: 6.2k genre: college au, mutual pining, fluff, angst warnings: drinking, referenced injury (very minor) summary: minho, on a drunken whim, asks you out on a date.

a/n: finally!! the minho part!! i’ve been sooo excited about this one since i first got the idea. i hope you guys enjoy! once again any and all feedback is appreciated, happy reading <3

“Dude, I think it’s clean.”

Minho looks up from where he’s scrubbing the counter, eyes narrowed. So what if it’s his third time going over every surface in the kitchen?

“Are you going to help me or are you just gonna sit there and make more crumbs?”

Jeongin’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline. He holds up his hands in surrender, the bag of chips in his lap crinkling. “I’m just saying. You’re acting like she’s never seen the place before.”

That’s the problem. You’ve seen his place. Minho has to stop the shudder that threatens to overtake his body at the thought.

“So you’re not helping? Great. Get out.”

“I live here!” Jeongin whines. “Why do I have to get out? You can’t banish me like this.”

“I can and I will. Now leave. I have two hours to make sure everything is ready and I am not going to vacuum for a fourth time.”

“Yes mom,” Jeongin rolls his eyes as he unfolds his legs from underneath him.

He stops just short of the kitchen counter, points an accusatory finger at Minho’s disheveled figure still hunched over an imaginary stain.

“For the record, Chan hyung would never do this to me. He loves my crumbs.”

Minho throws the scrub daddy at him.

🏠

The night it happens, all it takes is approximately three shots and a pep talk from Hyunjin for Minho to finally find the nerve to ask you out.

“You’ve got this,” the younger boy says, words slurred, his hands steady on both Minho’s shoulders. The bass thumps loud in the other room, drowned out by the walls of the kitchen until it’s nothing but garbled nonsense going in one of his ears and out the other, vibrations low in his chest.

“I’ve got this.” Minho repeats, the thrum of alcohol already spreading to his fingertips. He feels warm, light on his feet. His limbs are starting to loosen up and his insides are turning to jelly. He might even be floating.

“You look hot.”

“I look hot.”

“She’s gonna say yes.”

“You’re gonna venmo me twenty dollars.”

“I’m gonna venmo you twenty dollars.” Minho parrots before he can even process what he’s saying. Changbin, who’d been watching the entire thing unfold from where he stands with his back pressed against the sink, snorts.

“Wait, what the f—”

“Go get her!” Hyunjin screams, pushing him through the door of the kitchen with one last pat on the back, “And send me my money!”

Minho stumbles over himself, just barely able to stop in time before he goes crashing into a group of people. The living room is crowded: there’s furniture pushed up against the walls, bodies pressed front to back in the middle of the floor, a makeshift DJ stand in the corner where Chan is controlling the music from his laptop, drink in hand. Minho catches his eye from across the room, the glow of the LEDs reflecting off the toothy grin he shoots his way, dimples on full display.

“Hey!” Minho feels someone grab his arm, and he turns to find you staring up at him. “Where’d you go? You said you were gonna get a drink.”

Minho follows your eyes down to where you’re staring at his empty hands. “I—uh, well. I ran into Hyunjin and we took a few shots.”

The pout you give him does nothing but spur on the fluttering of his chest, his brain still hyper aware of the way your hand was resting on his elbow. “Shots? I want shots!” you whine, and Minho has to avert his gaze from staring at your lips when your pout only worsens.

“How much have you had?” he tries to ask over the music. There’s a shitty pop song playing, high pitched and wonky. If he remembers in the morning, he’ll make sure he berates Chan about his DJ-ing abilities.

“What?” you scream back, tiptoeing to bring your mouth closer to his ear.

Minho is only a man. A man who's been in love with you since the moment you accidentally spilled your coffee all over Hyunjin in the quad during freshman year. He remembers that day well, remembers the way your eyes went wide and your lips parted. He also remembers the way he wished it was him with the large wet stain on his shirt, that way it was him that was offered to have his lunch bought as an apology.

He’d never admit it, but sometimes really late at night, when the moon is high in the sky and he’s feeling oddly sentimental, he counts his lucky stars that Hyunjin had been in a relationship at the time. Minho doesn’t know what he would’ve done had he been forced to watch the two of you hit it off—some form of arson, presumably. Anything to take the edge off. But because of the fact that Hyunjin was not trying to have his head cut off by said girlfriend at the time, he invited Minho along as some sort of collateral damage. That’s when the two of you became friends. Kind of perfect if you ask him.

With the jumbled mess of butterflies in his stomach that he gets whenever you’re near him, and the threat of the alcohol slowly seeping through his skin, his brain short circuits the minute your breath grazes the shell of his ear. When your hand follows not long after, fingers gripping the nape of his neck to hold him in place, he almost passes out.

“Min? What’d you say?”

Minho is rendered completely useless by you. Absolutely ruined. Your existence has thrown his entire plan to woo you off course and now his mouth is opening and closing like a badly programmed robot. Pathetic. Nuts and bolts for brains.

By the grace of God (or some other higher being that Minho’s never bothered to believe in until this very moment) he finds his voice, but not before you’re pulling back with a confused look on your face.

“I asked how much you’ve had to drink,” he says, straining against the music.

A saccharine sweet grin that has him seeing stars spreads across your face, “Not enough!”

Minho is not an enabler. Never has been, never will be. There was one time, back in that fateful freshman year that also introduced the two of you, that he let Hyunjin get blackout drunk. A terrible decision on his end, if the earful he got from Chan the next morning was anything to go by. And as if that wasn’t enough, he was finding remnants of the resulting hacking session for the following week. So yeah, never again.

But while Minho isn’t an enabler, he is smitten, and the way your hand feels wrapped around his wrist as you drag him into the kitchen has his soul threatening to leave his body. He thinks that maybe he could do anything as long as you asked. He also hopes you can’t feel the way his pulse is rabbiting beneath his skin, right under the press of your thumb.

“There’s, like, nothing here.” you say as you rummage through the cupboard near the window, nose scrunched and a frown on your face.

Minho laughs, rounds the kitchen island to crouch down and open the cabinet under the sink. “That’s because you don’t know where to look,” he smirks, pulling out a fresh bottle of tequila. “Also, Chan hyung is greedy. He knows people like you will go scavenging his supply if he isn’t careful.”

“I resent that.” you frown, taking the bottle from him. “Besides, people like me deserve to have fun too.”

“Mhm, sure.” Minho says, grabbing a solo cup. He holds his hand out for the bottle, pours just the right amount before sliding it over and following it up with a can of coke.

“A man after my heart.” you joke, holding your cup up to him in a mock toast before downing it in one go. Minho watches with so much focus, fighting against the way his head spins. He doesn’t even know if it’s the alcohol anymore, it might just be the effect you have on him. Dizzying—you flip his entire world on its axis in the best way possible.

Minho’s gonna be seeing your exposed neck in his dreams later, he’s sure of it—it’s branded into his memory.

“That…is so fucking bad.” you giggle, holding your cup out. “Another one.”

Minho clicks his tongue. “I don’t know…”

“Pleaseeee Min,” the lilt in your voice sounds oddly familiar. Minho holds his breath just in case you—yup. There it is. There goes that pout again.

It’d be so easy for him to lean down and kiss it right off your lips. He could blame it on the alcohol, maybe, but then that takes away from how he actually means it.

He sighs instead. “It’s gonna cost you.”

“An arm and a leg?”

“What? No—I meant some water.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Three shots and a full bottle of water later, Minho knows you’ve hit your limit. Cheeks flushed pink, a dopey grin on your face, pupils blown wide. Even in this state, Minho is certain that you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Anotherrrr,” you slur, waving your cup in his face.

Minho shakes his head. “No can do. You’re cut off.”

“Please,” you whine, placing both hands on his shoulders, “I’ll do anything.”

Minho, completely taken back by the sudden closeness of your body to his, freezes.

“Anything?” he asks before he can stop himself.

This is stupid. You’re drunk. There’s no way you’re going to remember anything in the morning, much less within the next thirty minutes. He’s pretty sure that you’ll lose control of all your senses soon, which is why he’s already texted your roommate Jiwoo to unlock the door so he can carry you inside. Nothing he hasn’t done before.

“Anything,” you repeat, eyes going cross-eyed where they’re fixing on the mole he has at the tip of his nose.

This is stupid. But then again, so is Minho. A big, stupid fool that blames everything on the fact that he’s so in love with you it hurts. This might be the only chance he gets to shoot his shot.

Minho takes a deep breath, says something similar to a little prayer that’s more like Hey, if anyone’s listening, help a guy out, and hopes that the twenty bucks he sent Hyunjin works.

“Go on a date with me.” he says slowly, wincing when your eyes snap up to meet his gaze.

Well, there’s really no going back from that. The only thing that could possibly grant him redemption now is banking on the fact that you don’t remember anything in the morning.

Minho waits with bated breaths, watches as your eyes search his for a long while. He waits for the anger, the disgust, the visible repulsion that he starts to think might happen the longer the silence continues.

He’s about to backtrack, quickly conjuring up an excuse about how Oh, haha, gotcha! when your hands suddenly drop from his shoulders. You grab the cup, your chin tipped upwards, and hold it out for him to fill.

“Okay.”

“O…kay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Pour me another one.”

The next morning, when Minho all but drags himself into the kitchen in search of water and something to soothe the throbbing in his head, he nearly spits a mouthful at Jeongin, the poor guy too busy eating his cereal to realize he’s gotten a front row seat in the splash zone.

Y/N [10:34am]

when do you want to do that date?

🏠

Are candles too much?

Minho has options: clean linen, lavender breeze, ocean mist, warm vanilla. He really just needs something to get rid of the smell of cleaning spray.

He thought that having a night in for a first date would be ideal—less pressure, no unwanted attention, a bathroom that he can run into when he starts to hyperventilate if you smile at him for too long. But now that it’s happening, he’s convinced that every surface of his and Jeongin’s shared apartment will scare you away if anything so much as looks off-putting.

Minho is, to put it simply, freaking out. All the other times you’ve been over to his place were on a completely platonic level. Movie nights with all the other guys in tow, dropping off food that you felt generous enough to buy every once in a while, one time because you’d accidentally worn Minho’s jacket home from a party and needed to return it to him.

But this is different. This is a date. Minho’s not dreaming—he already pinched himself a dozen times in the bathroom mirror, tiny red marks on the inside of his forearm to prove it. He’s going to open the door, invite you in, cook for you, and then proceed to resist the urge to tell you how beautiful you are for however long the night continues on after that. He can practically hear Jeongin’s laugh in the back of his head, sneering at how pathetic his inner monologue sounds right now.

He needs to find another stain to scrub.

By the time you’re knocking on his door, Minho has changed his outfit seven times. Sweats were too casual, a button up was too fancy. Should he not have done his hair? No, that’s just lazy, the way his fringe is swept up and out of his forehead adds a nice touch that doesn’t scream Hey! I’m trying to woo you! You’ve never been the type to be impressed by grand gestures and shows of confidence anyways, he knows that well.

One time, when a guy from one of the frat houses hired the campus quartet to sing a song for you in the quad as he stood there with big beady eyes and a bouquet of roses in his hand, you’d all but ran from the scene, Minho following close behind as you called out to him over your shoulder. It’s one of his fondest memories. As soon as the two of you made it around the back of the science building, you’d doubled over in laughter, the both of you in disbelief at what had happened. Minho has had that information tucked into the deepest parts of his brain ever since, saved just in case he needed it.

(Later that night, in the safety of his own bed, he’d laughed maniacally at the situation. Something about watching you reject another guy filled him with a sense of joy he couldn’t explain. He just hoped he was never going to be on the receiving end of it.)

He does a quick once over of the kitchen: double checks that all the ingredients are out, blows a speck of dust off the glass stovetop, spins the tiny floral arrangement he bought so that it’s sitting at just the right angle. When the doorbell rings, the chime bouncing off the walls of the apartment, he visibly pales.

He has to reel it in, to remember that it’s just you. You might not even be here with any intentions other than to fulfill your end of the deal; one date in exchange for the extra three shots he poured you the other night. Minho takes a deep breath, grips the doorknob with conviction, and decides that he’s determined to show you the way you deserve to be treated. The opportunity is there, and he’s gonna take it.

As soon as the door swings open, every nerve that had somehow crept its way into his brain disappears, the sight of you standing on the other side immediately sending the anxiety scrambling and replacing it with fondness instead.

“Hi,” you smile, and Minho sees images of you coming home to his apartment flash across his mind. After class, after work, in the winter when it’s cold and your nose is tinted pink, on rainy days where the ends of your hair are damp and you have a wet umbrella in tow. He could get used to it. He’s so in love that it hurts.

“Hey,” he breathes out, stepping aside to make way for you, “Come in. Are you hungry?”

“Starving, actually. Been saving myself all day since I don’t always get to have your cooking.” You hop on to one of the stools, your attention momentarily stolen by the flower arrangement. One point for Minho.

I’d cook for you every day, he wants to say. But that’s weird, right? So instead, “Well then I guess today is your lucky day.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” You say softly.

Minho can’t see you with the way his back is turned, hands moving to grab out the knife and cutting board, but if he could he’d see the way your eyes are staring softly at his back, the ghost of a smile on your lips.

Conversation flows easily after that, despite Minho’s original worries about it being awkward. You’re not necessarily treating it as a date, and he isn’t really either. It feels more like a glorified hangout, just the two of you spending time together with the added glances and smiles that normally wouldn’t be there.

Minho finds it easy to get lost in you. He finds himself craving to know more about your day, about the things that’ve been on your mind lately and the hobbies you’ve picked up. Most of the conversation is a continuation of stuff that’s fallen through the cracks during the times you see each other, but he doesn’t miss the way you ask about him too, your eyes shining with genuine interest. It makes his heart slam against his ribcage.

“How are your cats doing?”

Minho looks up from the cutting board, follows your gaze to where it’s fixed on the scattered pictures that litter his fridge. “They’re good,” he says, smiling down at a head of garlic, “My mom sends pictures all the time. She says they claw at the door to my room when they miss me.” He smashes the garlic under the knife’s blade by hitting it with the heel of his palm. “It’s cute.”

“You’re cute.”

Minho, in a very flashy demonstration of what it means to be cool, calm, and collected, slices his thumb mid-chop.

“Shit.” he mutters, dropping the knife.

It’s not that bad, just a little nick, the surprise was mostly what scared him. He probably doesn’t even need a bandaid. But despite how small it is, nothing stops you from hurriedly walking up to him and taking his hand in yours, his thumb held closely to your face for inspection.

“Are you okay?” You turn his hand over between your fingers, the soft pads of them against his calloused ones. Minho is dumbfounded, struggling to find the words to say.

“Yeah—um, it’s fine. My fault. I was distracted.” He stammers out, pulling his hand back and holding it up. He wiggles his fingers, making a show of bending and twisting his thumb that, at most, has just a small cut on the side. “See? Perfect.”

Your face relaxes, and then you’re laughing. Why are you laughing? Either Minho looks like a complete idiot or he’s suddenly the funniest person in the world for being clumsy and reckless and almost ruining the night by losing a finger. Whichever one it is, he doesn’t care, as long as he gets to hear that sound again.

“Let me help cook, please? I know you said you would do it all but clearly you’re a threat to the integrity of this meal.” You say, bumping your hip against his to move him away from the cutting board.

Minho scoffs. “I wouldn’t have done that if you didn’t catch me off guard.”

“So what? You admit that I make you flustered?”

Oh.

Minho wasn’t prepared for this. He wasn’t prepared for the—the flirting that’s clearly happening. You’re flirting with him, right? Why else would you have called him cute or given him that suspicious side eye after you asked that question?

You and Minho have joked around like this before, but it was always empty with no real feelings attached—as far as he could tell. You’re a naturally friendly person, getting along with others comes easy to you. He’s seen the way you talk to the other guys and has always just assumed he was no different in your eyes than they were. Sure, there were moments where maybe your hand lingered on his arm for a little while after he made you laugh, or the two of you would steal glances across the room. Sometimes when Hyunjin said something stupid you’d both catch the other’s eye and make a face, just another funny way of proving that you were both on the same wavelength most of the time. It’s kind of why Minho is so taken with you—he’s never met anyone that gets him the same way.

Reluctantly, Minho puts his pride aside and allows you to help. And as it turns out, you’re actually really good at cooking. Minho doesn’t have to instruct you much, and before he knows it you’re both working like a well-oiled machine, scooting past one another as you switch places between the stove and the sink, reading each other’s minds without even having to ask.

“Taste this.” You say, holding the spoon up to his mouth. Minho leans forward, front teeth poking out, and brings the spoon into his mouth. You cup your hand under his chin to catch any droppings, watching in anticipation as he smacks his lips together.

His eyes light up, big and brown and twinkling under the light of the kitchen. “Perfect.” He smiles.

“Oh you have—uh,” you stop him with a hand on his forearm just as he’s about to turn back to the sink, your other hand hovering next to his face hesitantly, “It’s just, um, your—here.”

Minho’s eyes go wide when your thumb swipes against the corner of his mouth, your touch feather light. It’s so intimate, the only sound being the music playing low from the speaker on the counter. He’s half convinced that you’re able to hear his heartbeat, blood pumping loud in his ears.

“You had some sauce…on your face.” You say shyly, your palm still pressed to his cheek.

“…Oh.”

Minho’s never really looked into your eyes from this close up before. He’s always known they were beautiful, the shape of them soft, full of nothing but the world. He can see himself in them from here, and, selfishly, he hopes you can see yourself in his, too.

He might be imagining it when your gaze flicks down to his lips for just a fraction of a second, but there’s no time to unpack any of that when the sauce starts bubbling over the edge of the pot, spilling on to the burner as loud sizzling and smoke fills the kitchen.

It’s chaos. The bottom of the pot is burnt and there’s only so much of it that’s salvageable. He only bought the exact amount of ingredients too, because this is a self-proclaimed no-food-waste household (as explicitly stated in the napkin contract he has with Jeongin, much to his dismay). So, hooray for conscious consumption of goods!

At the end of it all, there’s no one to blame. You’re both guilty of…whatever that was.

Minho tries to reassure you that it’s okay as he dials the number for the pizza place just down the street, simultaneously shutting down all your attempts to pay as an apology. It doesn’t matter to him, he’d do anything as long as it means he gets to spend time with you. At the end of the day, it’s another memory that he’ll hold close to his heart.

“Listen,” you say, swallowing down a mouthful of pizza, the both of you seated on his couch with a half-eaten box of pizza open on the coffee table, “I know you wanted to cook and all—which, by the way, I’m still sorry—but this is so good. However I’m sure whatever you made would’ve been better.”

Minho chuckles. “Stop lying,” he wipes his hands on a napkin, “I can guarantee you that whatever I cooked wouldn’t be as good as this anyways.”

“Stop selling yourself short, Min. You’re good at everything you do.”

The words fall from your lips so easily, like it’s something you’ve convinced yourself of long ago. Minho’s never been the type to bounce around from one thing to another, always choosing to stick with it until he has it down to a science. Cooking is one of them. Jeongin can attest to all the times Minho has berated him with tasting his latest dishes, chasing him around the apartment with a spoon. The words tighten themselves around his heart.

“I’m not,” he rolls his eyes, “But nine times out of ten, grease and mozzarella cheese are gonna win. I know that for a fact.”

You laugh, and the conversation gradually diverts into a debate about the top ten best greasy foods in existence. You’re heated, half kneeling on the couch with a finger pointed at him as you plead your case for onion rings, when your eyes go past Minho’s head and settle on the shelf of games in the hallway.

“You have games?” you ask, suddenly giddy with excitement as you hurry over to inspect the selection.

Minho watches with fond eyes, collects the plates and napkins to throw away. “Yeah, most of them are Innie’s. We don’t really use them. Sometimes when we’re drunk, other times when we’re bored and decide to wager money for fun.”

You hum, not really paying attention. Monopoly, Chutes and Ladders, some decks of cards, Uno—you scan the shelf until your eyes light up at what you find hidden at the bottom.

“Min! Can we play Jenga?”

“Jenga?” Minho asks, re-entering the living room. The coffee table is clear now, and he sits between it and the couch, his back against the cushion. “Isn’t that kind of boring? We have other stuff there.”

“It’s only boring if you play it the way it’s supposed to be played.” You roll your eyes. Minho turns to you when you situate yourself on the floor beside him and only momentarily contemplates running to the bathroom when your knee knocks against his. He’s been holding it together pretty well so far, however The Sauce Incident had him ready to book it if anything had gone further.

“Well how else are we supposed to play it?” He frowns.

“We make up our own rules.”

The pieces scatter across the wood of the coffee table, clacking as you diligently begin putting them together. “This is a date, right?” You ask, stopping for a moment to turn and assess his response.

Minho stills. He genuinely forgot the grounds on which tonight had even happened in the first place. Spending time with you makes him forget everything else. And, despite his fears in the beginning, being on a date with you has felt so natural that it almost seems like you’ve done it a thousand times before.

Your eyes meet. For a moment, Minho lets himself wonder what it’d be like if he went for it right then and there. “Yeah,” he says slowly, unblinking, hoping you can see the sincerity on his face, “A date. One of the best ones I’ve ever been on, actually.”

He almost cries out in victory when your face flushes pink. “Now who’s a liar?” You ask quietly, going back to piecing together the game.

Minho has learned something new tonight: he really likes seeing you flustered.

“Why do you ask?” he decides to cut you the slack, “Or what does this being a date have to do with Jenga rules?”

He waits as you finish the stack, your tongue sticking out in concentration. You’re so cute. Minho mentally pockets that image for safe keeping.

“Sorry, okay, it’s done. But basically, if we pull out a block, we get to ask the other person a question.”

“And if the tower falls…?”

“Hmm,” you think for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip, “Oh! I know. If you lose you have to tell me why you asked me on a date.”

Minho’s stomach flips. “Okay. If you lose you have to tell me why you accepted the date.”

Something unreadable passes over your face, but it’s gone in an instant. You hold your hand out for a shake, and Minho wraps his fingers around it gently.

“Deal.”

“Why are you taking all of the middle pieces?” Minho pouts.

The two of you have gone through a couple turns by now, throwing out random questions for the better half of fifteen minutes. Favorite colors, childhood foods you wouldn’t eat, the best memory you have from high school. Minho’s learned a lot, has fallen for you a lot more. But that was always a given. It’s impossible not to when he can feel the warmth from your body where you’re seated next to him, your presence overtaking all of his senses.

“Because I’m trying to win,” you laugh, putting your freshly pulled piece at the top. Just a little crooked, too. To piss him off. “Favorite movie?”

“Ponyo. Easy. My turn.”

“Seriously? Why Ponyo?”

“One question at a time, princess.”

He means it as a joke, really. He doesn’t even realize what he’s said until after the fact, the nickname making your heart skip a beat. Minho notices, the corners of his lips tugging downwards as he suppresses a smile. He manages to flick one of the side pieces until it gives way.

“What’s one thing you regret?”

“Ooh, getting deep I see.” You laugh, taking a sip of your soda. There’s a long pause, and then, “I regret spilling my coffee on Hyunjin that day.”

Minho’s brow furrows. You…regret it? He runs through all the possible reasons in his head. Surely it can’t be because you regret becoming friends with them, friends with him, right?

“Why?” He chances.

“One question at a time, princess.” You echo, laughing at his shocked expression.

You remove the last middle piece. “On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate our first date?”

Minho’s brain is going a thousand miles a minute. “A ten. Wouldn’t trade it for the world.” He says it fast, wastes no time in moving forward to remove his own piece. He doesn’t even notice that your cheeks have gone pink again, too busy itching to ask his next question.

“Why do you regret spilling your coffee on Hyunjin?”

Minho watches you, lets his mind wander to the worst possible thing you could say in this situation, and mentally prepares to book it to the bathroom.

You take a deep breath, “I regret it because I wasn’t supposed to spill it on him. I was supposed to spill it on you.”

Wait, what?

Minho blinks. “What are you talking about?”

This is humiliating for you. A terrible thing to have to admit. Up until this moment, you’d thought that this information would follow you to your grave. You press the heel of your palms to your eyes, “This is so embarrassing,” you groan.

Minho pulls one hand away. He’s not really sure what to say, mostly because he’s confused, but, “You can tell me.”

“I had…” you start, looking up at him slowly, “A plan. With Jiwoo.” Minho nods for you to continue. “I’d seen you and Hyunjin walking through the quad a few times, and I thought that you were cute, but I didn't know how to approach you. So I did something stupid and decided that I would literally just crash into you. But I fucked it up.”

I thought that you were cute. The words echo in Minho’s ears like a bell. All this time, all those stolen glances and lingering touches, all the ways you would make hope spike in his chest that maybe you felt the same—they were real.

“So you, wait—” Minho shakes his head, “So you’re telling me that all this time…”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Min, really. All this time.”

Minho’s never been skydiving, but he imagines that this is what it feels like. Free falling—his soul hurtling towards earth at a horrifying speed, slamming back into his body right here in his living room with a force so strong it would knock him off his feet if he wasn’t already sitting on the floor. You were interested in him first.

Wordlessly, you lean forward, pulling out a piece with practiced ease. Minho waits with bated breaths.

“Can I kiss you?”

Minho feels like he might pass out. “Am I dreaming right now?”

“You didn’t pull out a piece.”

He scrambles forward, clumsily nudging a piece on the side that ends up sending the entire tower toppling over. You smile at him, soft and sweet. “Looks like you have to pay up with an answer. You know, since you lost.”

Minho doesn’t care. “Because I like you,” he breathes out, “I asked you on a date because I like you. I like you so much, ever since I saw you that day. And, funnily enough, I’ve always wished you’d spilled that coffee on me instead, too.”

The confession feels like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He’s spent so long pining after you, laying awake at night thinking about how this would go down if he ever got the chance. He never expected for it to happen like this, much less for you to possibly feel the same.

Panic slowly starts to rise in his chest when you don’t respond. He watches as you reach an arm over, build a small tower out of a few pieces, and then knock it over. You turn to him with a small smile, “Oops, I lost too.”

Minho is so in love with you that it hurts.

“I accepted the date because I like you, Minho. I’ve just been waiting for you to ask.”

He doesn’t think twice before he’s surging forward, cupping your face with one hand and kissing you with a tenderness that has you melting into his touch.

There’s no fireworks behind his eyes, no big bang or grand display of whatever it is that happens in the movies. But there’s a warmth, it starts out small in the center of his chest and spreads throughout his entire body, lights his skin aflame and travels all the way to his fingertips. You’re like that. A gentle presence, someone who worms their way into the very essence of his being and burrows into the deepest parts of him, like it was never his to begin with. Kissing you is slow, and deep, and right. He wouldn’t want it any other way. Minho doesn’t ever want to stop.

He lets his other hand fall to your waist, pulls you closer until you’re practically straddling him with his back against the couch, your knees on either side of his hips. Minho lets out a long, drawn out groan when you tilt his head back farther, his lips parting and allowing you to lick inside of his mouth. It’s so good. So good. He can’t believe he ever lived without knowing what this felt like; lived without ever having you this close before.

After a while, Minho reluctantly pulls back, holding you by the shoulders. When he looks up, your eyes are half-lidded. You look utterly debauched, cheeks pink and lips swollen from how hard they’d been pressed against his own. “We should probably slow down.” He tries hard to convince himself, too. “Talk about it all, you know? I don’t—this isn’t a one time thing for me. I don’t want it to be. I like you. I want you to know that.” He says softly, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

You lean into his hand, smiling when he flattens his palm to let your head rest there. “You’re like, so perfect that I want to kiss you until you forget your own name.”

Minho’s ears go red, his head falling forward until it rests against your collarbone. The feeling of his breath against your skin makes you laugh and run a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck fondly.

“This is gonna be so bad now that you say stuff like that.”

“Bad? No, I think it’s cute. You’re cute.”

“Shut up,” he whines, but there’s no bite to it. Not when he can look up and press a kiss to your lips. A dream come true. The entire world in his hands, exactly where it was always meant to be.

🏠

In the morning, when Jeongin comes back home, one hand covering his eyes just in case, he calls out,

“Everyone better be dressed! Or else I’m ripping up that napkin and making a new one with No fornicating on the furniture added into the fine print.”

When he doesn’t get a response, he rounds the corner, and finds the two of you nestled into the couch. Minho’s back is pressed into the cushions, his arms wrapped tightly around you as you nuzzle your face into his neck.

Jeongin huffs out a laugh, sends a quick text to Hyunjin that reads: Negative. Clothes are still on. But they’re so cute it’s almost sickening.

He snaps a picture to send to the group chat, grabs a piece of cold pizza, and retreats to his room.

Yang Jeongin Fanclub

jeongin: [Attachment: 1 image]

chan: AWWWWWWW

jiwoo: i’m gonna cry

changbin: dude is that the good pizza from down the street?

hyunjin: FINALLY

hyunjin: wait

hyunjin: does this mean i have to send back his $20?

[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @strwbrrychannie ]

#lee know x reader #first date series : minho #lee know fluff #lee know angst #skz x reader #lee know fanfic #skz fanfic #lee know fic #skz fic #lee know fanfiction #skz fanfiction #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfiction #lee know #godslino #first date series

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finalgirlmoment · 6 months

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Noteworthy details about the first two PJOTV episodes (spoilers)

First of all, every single of them ATE DOWN. just wanted to throw that out there, i'm so so impressed with the cast, everyone was perfect and gorgeous and i'm completely sat for any and all future installments. A fine piece of media. Let's begin.

Percy's confusion and bewilderment finding out that he's a demigod. "You fell in love with God.... like, Jesus????" LMFAO but seriously his frustration in this moment, thinking there's something actually wrong with his brain, feeling lost and confused and hurt and BROKEN. the struggle in that moment is so relatable to people discovering they have some sort of mental illness or neurodivergence, especially when they weren't believed/listened to etc and i think walker played this part beautifully

GROVER AND PERCY PLAYING MYTHOMAGIC TOGETHER. GROVER AND PERCY PLAYING MYTHOMAGIC TO TRAIN PERCY. I AM LITERALLY SCREAMING OFF ROOFTOPS THE IMPLICATIONS THAT THIS HAS???? ARE YOU ACTUALLY JOKING??????? IMAGINE SEASON 3 PERCY FINDS NICO AND THEY HAVE THIS IN COMMON???????????!?!?!?!?!? FEELING SEVERELY FRANTIC AND MASSIVELY UNWELL ABOUT THIS

luke's empathy towards Percy throughout-- his apologies for what happened to his mother at the bottom of Half Blood Hill, him telling P that he relates to the nightmares, the restlessness, the ADHD..... so fucking sick and fucking twisted, I will be sobbing at the ending, gorgeous job on both ends on making this relationship feel very warm and authentic and the trust starting to build. this will H U R T.

CLARISSE. she's so gorgeous and vindictive. Her beauty took me off guard initially, but she's such a spiteful little badass that I completely fell in love with her. I CANNOT WAIT to see more of her characterization, especially into season two. perfection.

Percy burning the blue jelly beans- the thing he'd miss most- out in the middle of the woods at night in a damn can, just to pray to his MOTHER. *sobbing intensifies* i couldn't ask for a more sweet, heartfelt, honest moment. the perfect addition. 10s across the board

Percy's ANGER. OH BOY this was one of my most favorite parts. I feel like we see Percy as a very happy-go-lucky kid altogether but I loved, LOVED to see his frustration and agitation from the very beginning. Everything is so confusing and foreign and all he knows is that 1. he's been betrayed or left behind by everyone he knows and 2. he's been ignored his whole life by his godly parent. His mission is to MAKE HIS DAD SEE PERCY, at ANY COST. Before he even knows who his dad is. He is entitled to feel ALL of this anger and hurt and resentment!!!!!!!

Annabeth calling Percy "sunshine". TOTAL CULTURAL RESET. I gasped. The dawn of a new age of Percabeth. I will be screaming into my pillow about this for the foreseeable future.

The entire characterization of Percy throughout the capture the flag scene. His contrast of being just a kid- flossing (lol), peeing the woods, petting a gecko, just vibing and hanging out VS. being thrown suddenly into attack from his peers that don't care about the rules, surprising himself and everyone around him with his finesse in battle, quick instincts, swordsmanship..... i'm weak fr. I can't wait to see him grow, train, become stronger and more confident.

Overall, I'm entirely floored and beyond happy. I can't wait to see more. 10/10

#percy jackson #pjotv #pjotv spoilers #percy jackson spoilers #percabeth #walker scobell #annabeth chase #leah sava jeffries #grover underwood #clarisse la rue #luke castellan #brain so rotted its unspeakable #good lord #THE ADAPATION WE DESERVE #please dm me if u want to talk more im foaming at the damn mouth

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popamolly · 3 months

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‘DANCE WITH THE DEVIL’ ALASTOR

summary. Alastor grapples with the realization that he might actually have feelings for you, as you contend with the internal conflict of obeying your mother's wishes or pursuing your own happiness.

warnings. dark romance, smut if you squint, human!alastor, age gap! you’re in your early 20s while Alastor is in his early 30s, you're naive, Alastor preys on your innocence, blood, kidnapping, implied murder, 18+ minors dni

author’s note. thank you so much for 800 followers! as well as the amount of love this story is getting! i am enjoying writing for human!Alastor and can’t for you all see where i’ll take this. enjoy sinners. (also, if you saw the rough draft and all the mistakes, no you didn’t)

One moment you were on Alastor’s cluttered desk and the next you were in his spacious bed. You had no idea how you got there as it all remained a mysterious blur. The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow on both of your bodies as you two continued to move in sync with one another. Straddling his waist, the rhythmic dance against his hips had your head tossed back in pure bliss. It was a slow, deep, sensation that was vastly different from a few hours before.

His fingernails dragged across your back as he watched your face contort in pleasure, he loved the sight of you— the various marks on you caused by him stirred something within him. It made him wonder how many times can he break you before you crumbled into a million of tiny pieces.

Before you knew it, you were waking up in Alastor’s bed again, only this time you were alone just as the sun reached its peak in the sky. The sunlight was so bright you had to squint your eyes as you sat up in the bed. A delicious smell of freshly brewed coffee and breakfast wafted through the air making your stomach grumble. Knowing that Alastor was perhaps in the kitchen, you pull the sheets from over you and go to stand, your legs felt like jelly and the soreness you felt in between your legs truly made it harder to walk.

You scanned the room for something to wear. All traces of modesty had disappeared since Alastor had taken you across nearly every piece of furniture in his possession, at that point what did you have to be modest about? Opting for one of his blouses, you opened his closet with the expectation of finding a more varied collection, only to discover that each blouse and pair of trousers adhered to a more monochromatic theme.

While reaching for a shirt, you accidentally knocked down another hanger. As you got on your knees to searched for the fallen garment on the floor, your fingertips brushed against a wooden box that was neatly tucked away into the shadows of the closet, sparking your curiosity. You sat down on the floor of the closet, dragging the box toward you to open it- but it was locked.

You decided to leave it be, excusing it as a mere heirloom or something of importance to Alastor. It was left in the back of your mind as you retreat from the closet, you changed into the blouse before leaving his bedroom to follow the delightful scent of breakfast- but before you left the room, you couldn't resist picking up Alastor's forgotten glasses from his nightstand.

As you made your way to the kitchen, the delicious scent of breakfast intensified. The memories of the night before lingered in your mind, a mix of passion and tenderness with Alastor. The soreness between your legs served as a reminder of the intimate moments you shared.

You found Alastor humming a jazz tune as he cooked, completely absorbed in his culinary endeavors. The clinking of utensils against pans filled the air, harmonizing with his cheerful humming. He turned to look at you, a smile spreading across his face.

"Well, good morning, my dear," Alastor greeted, his tone a mix of charm and, at least you hoped, genuine affection. "I hope you slept well."

"Goodmorning Alastor, I did sleep well, thank you," you returned his smile, feeling a sense of comfort in the domestic scene. The small kitchen table was set for two, adorned with a simple but elegant lace. Alastor had an uncanny ability to make even the most mundane tasks seem like an art form.

You took a seat at the table, placing his glasses carefully beside you. Alastor joined you, serving a delicious-looking breakfast onto your plate.

"Help yourself," he said, gesturing to the spread before you. "We had a long night so I am sure you are quite famished.”

You looked down at your silverware as you thanked him, your entire body heating up at the mention of your shared affairs last night as you dug into the meal, savoring the flavors. The comfortable silence between you and Alastor spoke volumes, a example of the connection formed between you two during the night.

Alastor sat across from you with a delighted hum, newspaper in hand while he sipped from his coffee mug in the other, "And how are you faring, my dear? I supposed I did get quite carried away." He broke the domestic silence with a grin, his eyes looking over your neck that was littered with marks. His marks.

"I'm fine," You say honestly, "I enjoyed it really, it was good...for my first time." You all but whispered the last part.

"Well that eases my worry," Alastor puts on his glasses to rest them on the bridge of his nose as he looks over his newspaper again, turning the page as he crosses his right leg over his left, “Let me know if you prefer tea in the morning, I have some brewing on the stove for the afternoon.”

Tea. You audibly gasp at the word as the realization dawned on you. You were supposed to be at home, sick in bed, and drinking tea— that was your cover for the night but the night was long since over. Glancing at the clock, you noticed that it was thirty minutes until eight o’clock, which was the usual time for breakfast to be served at your house. Your mother always expected you at the table a minute before her, groomed and ready for the day ahead. If you weren’t there on time then surely it’ll cause suspicion.

“I hate to cut this short but I have to go,” You hurriedly gobble up the rest of your food before standing up from your chair, “I have to be home soon or my mother will kill me!”

Alastor raised an eyebrow at the irony in that, “Surely, you have time to at least finish your coffee?”

You spared the moment a thought but ultimately shook your head, “I’m sorry but I can’t,” you walked past Alastor to go into his bedroom to slip on your clothes from the night before. His footsteps followed, accompanied by the jingle of car keys in hand.

As you hurriedly grabbed your belongings, Alastor offered to ease your worry with a smile, "I'll drive you home. No need to rush alone in your state of distress."

Grateful for the assistance, you nodded in agreement, and together, you both left his place. You felt different now, a bit lighter, more mature as you slipped into the passenger side of Alastor's car. He held the door open and closed it for you like a true gentleman. The car ride was filled with light banter, Alastor's charismatic demeanor easing the tension that lingered from your hasty departure.

Once you reached your home, Alastor parked the car a little ways away from your estate and turned to you. "Thank you for the company, darling. I hope your mother's wrath is not as fearsome as you anticipate."

You chuckled nervously, appreciating his understanding. "I hope so too. And thank you for everything, Alastor.. I enjoyed our time together."

He leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and planted a gentle kiss on your lips. "Until we meet again," he whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

With a promise to see each other soon hanging in the air, you slipped through the back door of your home, grateful for the concealment it offered. Hastily, you made your way to your room, hurriedly taking off the clothes from the night before taking a moment to compose yourself. You had only a few minutes to spare and you couldn't waste them.

After freshening up in your own personal water closet, you did your hair as neatly, and quickly, as you could— following up with a light touch of makeup. The faint taste of Alastor's farewell kiss lingered, and you couldn't help but smile at your reflection in the mirror. Now, groomed and ready, you braced yourself for the day ahead and the potential questions your mother might have about your ailment.

You rushed downstairs into the dining room, the scent of freshly brewed tea and warm toast filling the air. Just as you took your seat, your mother entered, her expression stoic. Unfazed, you greeted her with a bright smile, attempting to mask any trace of your recent escapades.

"Good morning Mother, How did you sleep?" you asked cheerfully, reaching for the toast as if it were any ordinary morning.

Your mother eyed you with a raised eyebrow, as she sat down at the head of the table, allowing the maid beside her to pour her tea, "Well enough, dear. I found myself tossing and turning all night. And you? That cold seemed to be really troubling you last night."

You laughed nervously, hoping your casual demeanor would deflect any probing questions. "It was, I could hardly get out of bed last night but thankfully sleep eventually came."

She continued to observe you, suspicion lingering in her gaze. Of course she knows you snuck out but she wouldn't reveal her cards too early. She would let you have this win for now in the hopes that when your rendezvous did come to light, your spirit would be so crushed by then that you'd have no other choice but to lean on your mother for support because she knew that this was a mere distraction for you and you were nothing but a toy to the man that wanted to use you. Your mother should know, after all she was a young girl once herself. "Mm-hmm," she responded, not fully convinced as she eyed the turtleneck dress you wore. "Anything interesting happen last night?"

Your heart skipped a beat, but you maintained your composure. "Not really, just a quiet night. How about you? Anything exciting on your end?"

She hesitated, scrutinizing you for a moment before deciding to drop the subject. "No, nothing out of the ordinary. Just the usual."

Relieved, you continued with a light breakfast, inwardly sighing at the narrow escape. Little did your mother know about the intriguing night you had spent with Alastor, and you hoped to keep it that way—for now, at least.

As you sipped your tea, hoping to steer the conversation away from any further inquiries, your mother decided to drop a bombshell. With a casual tone, she announced, "Silly me, but I forgot to mention that we're hosting a party in two days. We must prepare you for that so I have list of errands we need to run. Oh, and I've decided it's time that I take over in your matchmaking process."

Your eyes widened in surprise, nearly choking on your tea. "A party? Matchmaking? Mom, that's a bit sudden, isn't it?"

Your mother smiled innocently as she was spreading jam on her toast. "Nonsense, dearest. You've had quite a bit of freedom lately, and I think it's only fair that I take charge of finding you a suitable partner."

You were taken aback by the revelation. "Mom, I appreciate your concern, but I can handle my own affairs. I don't need you picking a match for me."

She raised an eyebrow, her expression turning serious. "And where has that led us? It's time to consider your future. I've arranged for some eligible suitors to attend the party, and by the end of the night, we'll have a decision."

You felt a sense of frustration and helplessness. The control over your own choices slipping away yet again, replaced by the traditional expectations your mother seemed determined to enforce. As you finished your breakfast, a sense of foreboding settled in—the upcoming party was more than just a social gathering. It held the potential to reshape your life in ways you may not be ready for.

As the conversation about the upcoming party lingered, a maid entered the room, carefully placing a radio on the table. You couldn't help but notice that this particular maid was new, and a quick glance around revealed that the other servants bustling about the home were also unfamiliar faces.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you leaned in and asked your mother, "Mother, What happened to our usual staff?"

Your mother, engrossed in the morning radio, responded nonchalantly, "Oh, I fired them, dear. They simply weren't meeting my standards. Now, please hold your tongue; I'm trying to listen to the morning news."

You were left you speechless, a mix of surprise and concern washing over you. The familiar faces that had been a constant presence in your household were replaced without warning. You couldn't help but wonder what had transpired behind the scenes and what might be the real reason for this sudden change. Then you realized that maybe your mother knew of your outing with Alastor and she was acting like she didn't, and if she was, why was she acting clueless?

Your mind began swirling with questions about the upcoming party, the matchmaking, and now the unexplained dismissal of the longtime staff. The atmosphere in the room had shifted, leaving you with an uneasy feeling about the changes that were unfolding in your once-familiar surroundings.

"Oh, what a delightful morning it is! I trust everyone enjoyed a restful night, as I certainly did!" Alastor's voice resonated through the radio, carrying a distinct weight. Despite being the renowned radio show host, he seemed like an entirely different person. Though the broadcast introduced some static, his charm remained. "Let's kick off this morning with some smooth jazz tunes, shall we? I have Louis Armstrong & His Hot Seven's top hits ready to grace your ears! We'll return shortly after this brief interlude, folks!"

Alastor flipped off one switch on his microphone and activated another. The sounds of "Potato Head Blues" filled the airwaves, spreading throughout New Orleans. While the jazz played in the warehouse, Alastor rose from his chair with an irritated groan, heading towards a locked closet at the end of the hall. Using a key, he unlocked the door and descended the creaky wooden stairs. As he reached the bottom step, another voice in the room caught his attention.

"Mmmh!" The person, bound to a chair with a cloth in their mouth, struggled against their restraints, fear evident in their eyes as they observed Alastor approaching with a stoic expression. Tear-filled eyes followed his movements as he walked to a table in the corner, his fingertips brushing over an array of displayed knives. "Mmmph! Hmph!"

"Your grunts and stifled screams are growing rather tiresome," Alastor remarked, his hand hovering over one of his cherished knives with a sinister grin. Lifting it up, the blade gleamed in the light. "I understand it's rather solitary in this space. You were supposed to have a companion, but," Alastor pulled a wooden chair across the floor, creating an unsettling echo against the concrete. He positioned himself in front of the restrained individual, heightening the bone-chilling atmosphere, "plans change."

Alastor glided the blade deliberately across the person's cheek, the chilling touch of the metal causing involuntary shivers. Despite their struggles against the restraints, Alastor sighed, tapping the blade against their skin in a disturbingly mocking rhythm.

"This person, this woman," Alastor mused, tilting his head to the side, "is confusing me, and I don't like it." The sadistic atmosphere in the room thickened as he increased the pressure of the blade against their cheek, drawing blood. Suddenly, he halted, as if a realization had struck him.

"But I don't hate it either," Alastor declared with an unsettling calmness, leaving an ominous pause that lingered in the air. The duality of his emotions toward the captive person added a perplexing layer to the unfolding scene, intensifying the disturbing nature of the situation.

Alastor, maintaining his eerie composure, turned to the restrained person and asked, "What do you think? Is it true love?" A twisted amusement gleamed in his eyes as he awaited a response.

A cruel chuckle escaped him as he noticed the person's inability to answer, their mouth securely gagged. The absurdity of the question in the face of their silent predicament seemed to amuse the madman further. The room resonated with Alastor's unsettling laughter, creating an atmosphere of malevolence that hung heavily in the air. The captive, helpless and silenced, could only endure the scene unfolding before them knowing that this would be the last sight they ever see.

"One, two, three, one, two-" The ballroom echoed with the rhythmic counting of the waltz, your mother diligently guiding you through the steps. As you twirled with your elderly dance partner, your mind drifted to Alastor. The memory of dancing with him under the stars tugged at your heart, and an undeniable longing for him filled your thoughts.

In the midst of the waltz, you couldn't shake the yearning to be with him, whether listening to his radio broadcasts or engaging in casual conversations over coffee. The mere thought of Alastor sent your heart racing, leaving you flustered and questioning the nature of these emotions. Was this love? The answer seemed evident with each flutter of your heart, each bounce of the balls of your feet. Love, it seemed, had taken root in your heart.

The dance partner, an elderly servant, winced as your foot landed squarely on his toes. "I am so sorry!" you began to apologize, but your mother's sharp voice cut through the room.

"A woman must be graceful like a swan," she admonished, tapping the back of your thighs with a cane, the sting making you wince, "not a tumbling tiger."

"I—" You attempted to offer excuses, but your mother's stern gaze silenced you.

"You are distracted," she declared, shaking her head in disapproval. "I need you to dismiss whatever is taking over your mind and be present. The ball is tomorrow, and I can't have you embarrassing me on your big day." The weight of her expectations pressed upon you, urging you to set aside your personal feelings and focus on the upcoming event.

A heavy sigh escaped your mother's lips as she turned her attention to the elderly servant. "You may leave us," she instructed, her tone carrying a hint of disappointment. The servant bowed slightly, acknowledging the dismissal before exiting the ballroom.

Now alone, your mother circled you, her scrutinizing gaze causing you to shrink under her watchful eyes. The atmosphere grew tense as she examined you, her expression a mix of frustration and concern.

With each step, your mother's presence loomed, and the weight of her expectations seemed to intensify. The impending ball was not just an event; it was a reflection of her social standing, and any misstep could ruin her reputation. As she circled, you couldn't help but feel the pressure to conform to her ideals and expectations, the desire for personal connection and freedom momentarily eclipsed by the demands of societal decorum.

Your mother's gaze didn't miss the marks on your neck you tried to hide, remnants of the passionate night you spent with Alastor. She dismissed it with a grimace, a silent disapproval lingering in her expression.

As the tension in the room hung thick, your mother took a deep breath before opening her mouth to speak once again. "Did I ever tell you the story of how I was in love?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.

"Of course, you and father—" you began, but your mother cut you off with a firm gesture. "This was before your father. Before everything…before I became a woman of high society."

The weight of her words hung in the air, and you could sense that she was about to share a piece of her past, a side of her life that you hadn't even thought to acknowledge. As the ball loomed on the horizon, the barriers between you and your mother seemed to momentarily lower, providing a glimpse into a time when love and passion took precedence over societal expectations.

"I fell in love with a man during the summer months," your mother began, her voice carrying a bittersweet tone. She continued to circle you, sharing the intimate details of a past you had only glimpsed before. "He swept me off my feet quickly, and I was blinded by that love because, in my eyes, he was my happily ever after."

Your eyes widened as you listened intently to your mother's story. The ballroom, once filled with the echoes of waltz music, now held a poignant atmosphere as she delved into her personal history.

"I was merely a farmer's daughter, and he, a factory worker. It truly was a good match. But…" Her mother's expression darkened at the memory. "My dear, you can give a man everything, every ounce of your entire being, and he will still want more."

As the weight of her words settled, you could sense the bitter undertones of regret and heartache in your mother's story. It opened a window into her past, a time when love seemed boundless, yet reality had its own lessons to impart. The circling continued, each step a reminder of the complexities that love could bring.

"What I thought was love was nothing but a game to him," your mother continued, her voice carrying the weight of past heartache. The circling ceased abruptly, and her cane tapped hard against the ballroom floor as if emphasizing the gravity of her words. "He was gone with autumn, taking everything I had given him—my money, my body…my soul. I would've been truly ruined if it wasn't for your father."

She stood in front of you, gripping your chin harshly, forcing you to meet her gaze with glossy eyes. "I say all of that to say, do not be fooled by a wolf in sheep's clothing."

The words hung in the air, resonating with the tale she had just shared. The ballroom, once a place of elegance and grace, now echoed with the cautionary wisdom of a mother who had weathered the storms of love and loss. The vulnerability in her eyes and the firmness of her grip conveyed the sincerity of her warning, urging you to tread carefully in matters of the heart.

"I don't care what you do from this point forward but know this, you will attend the ball in your honor and you will marry the man who I deem worthy of you, understood?" After your mother releases her grip from your chin, tapping her cane once more, she steps aside, allowing you to pass. "Practice is over. You may go," she declares.

The aftermath of this encounter leaves tears welling in your eyes and a heavy weight in your chest. Unable to meet your mother's gaze, you hurry past her, fleeing the ballroom without a backward glance. In your rush, you even collide with a maid, but offer no apology as you hurry out the front door. Emotions swirl within you, mingling anger towards your mother with a deeper frustration directed toward yourself. The struggle between fulfilling family expectations and pursuing your own happiness weighed heavily on your mind. Are you truly prepared to forsake everything for Alastor? And more importantly, would he do the same for you?

Descending the stone steps of your home in haste, you decided to find Alastor and confront the questions you've been avoiding. Only his response would determine your next move.

"Mr. Ray?" You lean down to peer through the driver's side window, where your family chauffeur is taking a cigarette break. His complexion blends seamlessly with the setting sun. "Could you take me somewhere?"

"Without your mother?" He arches an eyebrow. "I believe you still require a chaperone, young lady."

"She allowed me out for the afternoon as long as I am back before curfew. Please, I'll be under your watchful eye. I promise to behave," you nearly beg, your puppy-dog eyes meeting his.

With a resigned sigh, the chauffeur relents. "Get in," he says, giving in to your plea and falling for your sweet lie.

With a sense of purpose, you climbed into the car, knowing that the journey ahead would be filled with uncertainty but you were determined in proving your mother wrong, you wanted to follow your happiness and Alastor was that happiness because in your mind— no, in your heart, you knew you loved him.

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beskarandblasters · 16 days

Text

Get Your Head in the Game

Basketball Player!Abby x Cheerleader!Reader

Ways to help Palestine

Main Masterlist | Abby Anderson Masterlist

Author’s note: Thank you to @proxima-writes for this idea 🥰

Summary: Abby gets flustered by her girlfriend’s short cheerleading skirt during a basketball game.

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, no outbreak AU, college AU, established relationship, descriptions of the basketball game/cheerleading may be inaccurate/vague I am but a simpleton, locker room sex, fingering & oral sex (reader receiving), pet names, no use of y/n

It’s your girlfriend Abby’s first basketball game of the season at the University of Washington, her second year on the team as an all-star player. She’s one of the best on the entire team. But tonight you’re not just showing up as her supportive girlfriend. You’re showing up as the newest member of the cheerleading squad.

It’s been a little tough keeping this secret from her. Luckily most of her practices lined up with yours. But on the off times they didn’t you had to make up some little white lie, like telling her you had a study group or a makeup exam when in reality you were going to cheer practice. It killed you to lie to her but tonight everything will finally make sense. And she won’t be mad.

At least you hope so.

The arena is packed. Everyone is hyped up for the first game of the season. You’re nervous for your first time cheering with an audience on top of being nervous about Abby’s reaction. It’s also your first time wearing your cheer uniform in front of anyone– a tank top, white sneakers, and a very short skirt– shorter than Abby’s ever seen on you.

You’re on the sidelines, letting your other teammates take the front until the basketball team comes out. They’re playing the University of Oregon tonight and across the court is their cheerleading squad, a smaller group since they’re the visiting team.

And then everything happens in a blur, from the home team entering to the toss to decide who is the offensive team to the first quarter. So far you’ve managed to stay in the back of the squad, your knees feeling like jelly underneath you. Abby being the dedicated player that she is hasn’t looked over at the cheerleaders at all. But it’s the second quarter now and your teammate, Megan, elbows you in the side, urging you to get to the front of the formation.

“Come on! She needs to see that you’re here.”

You sigh, dread swirling in your stomach. But she’s right.

“Fine…” you say, inching to the front. The second quarter starts and Abby looks over at the squad as you claim your spot in the center. Her eyes just about pop out of her head and her jaw falls to the floor. You look away and feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. But when you look at her again she’s still staring at you with the same dumbfounded expression on her face. Her cheeks are flushed and her hands ball up into fists and release at her sides. Oh God, you hope she’s not mad at you… But even if she is, Abby’s hot when she’s mad.

But she’s not paying attention to the game either. Her eyes trail up and down your form, stopping at the hem of your skirt. It isn’t until her coach shouts, “Anderson! Get your head in the game!” does she finally snaps out of her trance.

She plays her best game, at least as best as she can with the distraction you just threw at her. Her coach had to yell at her a handful of times and she almost got benched. She never actually would, though. She’s so good of a player that they can’t afford to bench her for a quarter or two.

The game ends with a win from Washington State but just barely. And once the excitement finally dies down and the crowds of people start to disperse, Abby marches right over to you, standing in front of you with folded arms. Her biceps are glistening with a layer of sweat, swelled from the energy she just exerted in the game.

Megan and your other teammates vacate the sidelines, leaving you two be. But not before she calls over her shoulder, “See you at the next game!”

Abby’s brow furrows and her jaw goes slack as she looks you up and down.

“What? You don’t like it?” you ask innocently, gesturing to your uniform.

“How long?”

“Since the beginning of the season.”

“Why? Why did you lie to me?”

“I didn’t mean to lie… I just wanted to surprise you!” you say, smoothing down your skirt with one hand and shaking your pom pom with the other.

“Yeah… you surprised me alright,” she says, shifting her weight between both feet before taking a step closer to you and saying, “Did you see what your little stunt pulled? Almost cost me the entire game, pretty girl.”

“I’d say it’s worth it,” you respond, cocking your head to the side.

“Oh yeah?” she says, scoffing and raising her eyebrows.

“Mhm… What are you gonna do about it?”

“You’ll see,” she says, grabbing your hand and leading you out of the court. She’s practically dragging you, holding onto your hand so tight as she brings you all the way to the visitor’s locker room.

“Can we be in here?” you ask, looking around as she shuts the door behind you.

“They’re long gone by now, baby,” she says, turning and grabbing you by your shoulders.

You meet her gaze and await the inevitable; your punishment.

“Lie down on the bench for me, okay?” she says. You nod and she lets your shoulders go but not before she grabs your skirt and says, “But this stays on.”

“Yes, Abby,” you respond, walking over to the bench and lying down. You spread your legs across either side of the bench, feet planted on the floor. She stands by your side, towering over you.

“Now, pretty girl… I’m not mad at you for joining the cheerleading squad.”

“You’re not?”

“No, baby. I would never get mad at you for that. But I am mad at you for something else…”

“…What?”

“That you didn’t let me see you in your cute, slutty little uniform before the game.”

“Oh,” you say, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“And for that, you deserve a punishment.”

A shiver of anticipation runs down your spine as Abby sits at the foot of the bench, hand running up and down your inner thigh. Her fingertips ghost the edge of your underwear and you assume she’s just going to pull the fabric to the side and tease you. You assumed incorrectly.

With both hands she grabs your underwear and rips it in half, pulling tugging them off you, and tossing them on the floor.

“Now that those are out of the way…” she says, taking her pointer and middle fingers to her mouth. She places them in her mouth, getting her fingers nice and slick to play with you.

“You don’t get to cum until I say so,” she informs you, running her fingers up and down your entrance.

“Okay,” you say with a shaky breath.

Slowly she pushes her fingers inside you, curling them ever so slowly against your walls.

“Doing good, baby?” she asks, looking down at you with a lopsided smirk.

“Mhm,” you breathe out, back arching off of the bench.

“Mmm you’re not getting close already, are you? Because you have a while until you’re allowed to cum.”

“...No,” you whine, lowering yourself back onto the bench and doing your best to regain composure.

“Patience,” she coos, pressing her fingers against your g-spot.

You take a deep breath followed by another shiver down your spine. Your cheeks are hot and your skin is set aflame by her painstakingly slow pace. But it’ll be worth it in the end.

The tension builds in your core as you stare up at the white fluorescent lights in the locker room. Abby leans forward to make sure you’re looking at her, the same smirk still gracing her lips.

“What’s wrong, baby? Are you getting close?”

“Mmm yes,” you whine.

“I bet you’re trying so hard to hold on, right?” she teases.

“Fuck… yes,” you admit, doing your best to keep your orgasm at bay, but it’s getting hard.

“You’re doing so good, baby.”

“Yeah??”

“Mhm… Cum on my fingers, pretty girl,” she softly commands, pushing harder against your g-spot.

With her permission you finally cum, walls clenching and releasing her fingers erratically. She doesn’t stop as you ride out your high, her fingers expertly making a come here motion.

“Good girl,” she praises once she feels your orgasm slow to a halt.

You close your eyes and catch your breath. And that’s when you feel her remove her hand from you. She leans forward and brings her face by your pussy, hiking up your skirt.

“You got so wet for me…” she says, her warm breath tickling you gently, “Creamed all over my fingers, baby.”

Another shiver down your spine. You’re far from over for the evening, though. She licks one long slow stripe up your cunt, stopping at your clit and flicking her tongue around it. Her strong arms wrap around your thighs, hooking you to her as she pulls you into her face. You prop yourself up on your elbows and look down at her, her eyes never leaving yours. She hums into you, marveling at your taste before her mouth latches onto your clit. The tension builds in your core again and you know you’re on the brink of orgasm. But you have to wait for her permission.

Your mouth falls open into a soft O, slack jaw, and pleading eyes.

“Can I cum?”

She shakes her head softly, mouth still sucking your clit. A whimper escapes your lips and you look up at the ceiling again, watching the stars swirl in your vision against the overhead lights.

She pulls away for a moment and says, “Eyes on me, baby.”

You snap your head back down at her as she replaces her mouth on your clit. But this time she adds her fingers again and you know you won’t be able to hold on much longer.

“Abby, please I can’t take it anymore,” you whine.

She looks at you as if she’s contemplating whether or not you deserve to finally cum before humming into you and nodding yes. With the combination of fingers pushing against your g-spot and her mouth expertly sucking your clit you cum hard. Tears well up in your eyes and threaten to spill over as your whole body trembles. Waves of pleasure course through your body as she keeps fingering you and licking you through your release.

When you’re done she pulls away, her chin glistening with your spend. She swipes it away with her fingers and places them in her mouth, moaning at the taste.

“Good job, baby,” she praises, offering her hand to help you sit upright.

You pant and catch your breath, leaning against her shoulder as you sit side by side.

“Come on, baby. Let’s get back to my dorm. I’m not done with you yet.”

She helps you up and snakes an arm around your waist, leading you out of the arena and across campus.

“So you’re not mad at me?” you ask once the cool nighttime air hits you.

“No, baby. I just wish you would’ve let me get a little preview before the game.”

“You know I’d wear this for you whenever you wanted,” you reassure her.

“Good because you’re not taking this off for a long time,” she chuckles, sliding her hand down your back and slapping your ass playfully.

And with that, the two of you head to her dorm, satisfied with knowing that she’s not mad at you and that the night is far from over.

End note: I’ve had this sitting in my drafts since February and I’m finally sharing it with y’all now 😭

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Support/MDNI banners: @saradika-graphics

Basketball divider credit unknown :/

#abby anderson fanfiction #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby anderson x f!reader #abby anderson x female reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou

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hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch · 10 days

Text

Venom intertwined

Summary: Wanda just wanted you and Venom to stop fighting that’s all she wanted, why did it escalate so much?

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, no spicy stuff, fluff, a crushed Pb and jelly sandwich (poor Nat)

A/n: I rewrote this since tumblr decided to delete it, hopefully it’s good, there will be a part two but when? Whenever I write it 😂

“Y/n why are you limping?” Nat barley moved from her place on the couch as you tried, but failed, to walk through the house without anyone noticing your injury

“I’m not limping you’re just incompetent” you laughed but Nat just rolled her eyes “I’m a well trained assassin Y/n I can spot a bee 5 miles away and blindfolded, you’re limping”

You flopped down next to her on the couch unable to hide the pain any longer “okay fine! Yes I’m limping are you happy now?”

Nat ignored your snarky comment instead pinching your arm getting a shout in response “enough with the snarky comments, why hasn’t Venom healed you yet?”

Venom’s head snaked out and you rolled your eyes knowing the rant was coming

“Y/n said that I was useless and she did not need me to live her life, so when someone who was paid to kill us managed to stab us in the leg I refused to heal her since she can obviously take care of herself”

Their head turned to you and glared and you glared back “you are a very childish bastard you know tha-

Venom slammed your body against the floor snapping the coffee table in half

“Ahh my sandwich” Nat said sadly picking up her now squashed sandwich “I was looking forward to that”

You scuffled with Venom on the floor which looked funny to anyone not knowing about Venom since it looked like you were just fighting yourself

“Take it back!” Venom growled

“No!” You shouted back

Suddenly Wanda burst the door hearing the commotion “woah what’s going on?!”

“Your girlfriend and her parasite ruined my Pb and jelly sandwich” Wanda glared at Nat and made a mental note to tell Maria to make more sandwiches to keep the grumpy assassin happy

“Okay you two stop!” Wanda’s plea went unanswered as you continued to fight with the symbiote so she used her magic to still you “hey!” You shouted still trying your best to fight

“I will separate you two if you don’t behave!”

Wanda barely registered Nat’s shout of “no!” Too focused on the fighting going on right now

You didn’t respond to her threat so Wanda, without thinking of the consequences, pulled Venom out of you and dropped you both to the ground, you fell to the ground feeling hallow for the first time in years, nothing felt right, your skin didn’t feel like your own and you couldn’t breathe, everytime you tried your heart sounded louder in your ears, wait your heart? That hadn’t made a sound in years.

Your eyes landed on the mess of symbiote on the ground, seemingly looking for you, when you reached your arm out you hoped they found you when your vision started to fade, after what felt like hours your body warmed back up and you felt the symbiote flow through your body and Venom’s voice piercing your ears “I am back Y/n you can relax now, we will be safe again soon I will heal you” you remained on the ground shaking slightly trying to keep relaxed like Venom said

Wanda and Nat watched you, watched you reach out for Venom and watched the colour returned to your face and your breathing return to normal, Wanda came close to you

“Baby I’m so sorry” Wanda tried helping you up but you scrambled away from her into the corner scared and afraid “no! No stay there Wanda!”

Wanda backed off unsure on what to do but Nat was there to try and help, “Wanda, you know her and Venom are entwined, DNA and all it’s dangerous to pull them apart you could’ve killed her”

Wanda gasped “I know I know! But I just wanted them to stop fighting I didn’t know what to do. And why didn’t you stop me?!”

Nat shrugged “I didn’t think you’d do it I also shouted stop but you still did it so it’s not my fault”

Wanda sighed knowing Nat was right and turned to you again jumping back seeing only Venom glaring back at the two women “Y/n?”

Venom stood tall and all trace of you had seemingly disappeared “you tried to kill us Wanda, someone who loves us would never do that”

Wanda’s eyes watered “no no baby please I didn’t mean to hurt you I just wanted you to stop fighting with Venom” she tried to hug the symbiote to give comfort but Natasha pulled her away

“Wanda they’ll tear you to shreds in seconds!”

The assassin kept tight hold of the witch as they both watched Venom turn to the window and turn back to them both, one side of your face revealed which gave Wanda hope but it was quickly dashed “Y/n? My love are you still there?”

“Don’t follow us” Venom overtook your body once again and leapt out of the window leaving the women alone without knowing where you were going or if you were coming back

“No Y/n! Come back!” You’d never been away from Wanda for more than a couple of days but she had no idea where you were going

***************************************

It was a while before either woman moved, Nat was still clinging onto Wanda as the redhead sobbed for you to come back hoping everytime she glanced at the broken window she’d see your form but it never came

Eventually Maria found them both, she sent Nat off to tell Tony and Bruce what happened and if they could help

“Wanda? Wanda can you hear me?” Maria sat in front of Wanda holding her head in her hands “she’s gone” Wanda whisper sobbed and Maria nodded “I know, they were spotted in Times Square running all over the billboards, they’re heading for New Jersey it seems”

Wanda brightened up and stood “New Jersey?”

Maria nodded “yeah why?”

“Y/n was going to buy a house there, she was going to ask Tony to borrow some money and work it off doing missions and let Tony and Bruce do some experiments on Venom”

Wanda turned to leave but Maria was quick to grab her arm “woah! Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“To New Jersey, she needs me I need to fix this”

Maria shook her head holding tight onto the witch “Wanda I mean this with all the love in the world but you caused this, you knew damn well what would happen and I’m pretty sure if you just turned up you’d start fighting with Venom and lose”

Wanda admitted defeat sighing and sitting down on the couch wiping more tears from her face

“Okay here’s what’s going to happen, you’ll have a shower and get yourself sorted then meet myself and the others to discuss what’s going to happen okay? We’ll get her back I promise”

Wanda didn’t speak but Maria took her silence as an agreement and left the room. But Wanda didn’t have a shower or meet everyone she instead got into her car and was currently on her way to you to fix this, she was going to fix this.

******************************************************

Meanwhile in New Jersey you were sat in that very house you were buying, Venom still being at the forefront keeping your body safe while it healed

“Are you feeling okay Y/n? Your body was so cold”

“Yeah I’m okay, just really confused, I can’t believe Wanda would do that”

Venom agreed “she tried to kill us”

You went to say something more but the front door opened revealing a witch standing there

“Why hello stranger, looking a little mouldy there”

The symbiote split their face revealing your own shocked one

“Agatha? You’re back?”

“Awaiting my favourite little alien’s return”

#marvel #wanda maximoff #mcu #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel incorrect quotes #natasha romanoff #marvel au #marvel imagine #venom reader #wanda maximoff x venom reader #wanda maximoff x you

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hollyoongs · 2 months

Text

THANK YOU, JAKE ✦ S.JY

pairing tasp!jake x news intern!fem reader

summary when you told your friend about the challenge that your boss put you on in order to work on the company, which was taking a picture of the amazing Spider Man, Jake makes it come true.

genre fluff

warnings both of them like each other, cameo of Jay and Ri-Ki, everything is NYC and I tried to make it short for the other one that I'm planning to make it in the future <3

a/n I can finally get this one up here, I'll do the second part with smut, but Jake's fluff is already needed in this profile. This is my last little present for my em @cmoundiamante (and worst of all, it's late, but I blame my country for that :p), but I'm glad to finally publish it. I know you had an amazing time on your birthday and I want you to look at this little gift as something that can cheer you up for everything you've been through, I'll be there for you and I hope you like it very much. shout out to the editor of THIS Jake Spider-Man, my jupi @glitterjay and also to my lovely moot @ja3yun, this is the spidey!jake I was preparing ;) [PART TWO: 🕸]

wc +3.0k

It was one of those days where everything seemed to conspire against you. As you trudged through the bustling streets of New York City, your camera bag heavy on your shoulder, you couldn't shake off the feeling of exhaustion that clung to you like a stubborn shadow. The sweltering heat of the summer sun only added to your irritation as you made your way to the Daily Bugle, where you were interning as a photographer.

Your future boss, Mr. Jameson, was notorious for his gruff demeanor and demanding nature. Today seemed to be no exception, as he barked orders at the staff, his voice reverberating through the newsroom like thunder. Your friend, Jay, was massaging his forehead, and you couldn't help but go there first. He looked up to see you and gave you a tired smile.

"Rough already?"

"And it's not even 9 a.m." Jay spat in anger, and you opened your bag to give him some of the jelly you always carry around. He took them slightly happier, opening as he started talking again. "He's putting stupid challenges on everyone here. Rumor has it that he's getting jealous of the other newspaper company since they took the #1 place from us."

"Well, wish me luck." You braced yourself for another onslaught of criticism as you approached his desk, hoping to avoid his wrath.

"Ah, there you are," Mr. Jameson said, his tone dripping with impatience. "I've got a special assignment for you."

You felt your heart sink at his words, knowing that whatever task he had in store would likely be arduous and thankless, just like Jay said. But you nodded, steeling yourself for whatever was to come.

"I want you to get me a picture of Spider-Man," he said bluntly, his eyes narrowing in a challenging glare.

Your jaw nearly hit the floor at his request. Spider-Man? The elusive vigilante who swung through the city was a hero to some and a menace to others. Getting a photo of him in action was no small feat, and you knew it.

"But how am I supposed to…" you began, but Mr. Jameson cut you off with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"I don't care how you do it; just get it done," he said firmly. "And make it front-page material, or you'll be out of your ear."

With that ominous warning hanging in the air, you felt a wave of panic wash over you. How were you supposed to capture a photo of Spider-Man when you could barely catch a break in your own life? Desperation clawed at your chest as you racked your brain for a solution. He looked at Jay, and he was with his mouth open. She was simply screwed.

The hours passed slowly, and 7 o'clock of the night finally reached, which made you fly to the only place you find comfort at the moment. Shim Jake's place. Feeling all the weight on your shoulders, you sigh as you knock on the door. His aunt opens before your knuckles can touch the door.

"Hey darling… Oh no, bad day?" like a button, your eyes got watery, and she hugged you. You hold your tears as she loses you in the warm hug. "I'm going to buy food. Jake and Ni-Ki are in the room. I know what you like."

"You are truly the best, May."

"I know, darling. Go." She left you, and you entered the house, going directly to the Australian boy's room. You knocked, and you heard things falling.

"Who's it?"

"Who else, Ni-Ki? Come on, I had a bad day, and I need you guys."

"Hold on a second!" A few seconds passed, and Jake was the one who opened the door, his messy hair, sweat pant and big white shirt and hsi big glasses that made him look more handsome than usual in front of you. "Hey lensgirl, what's wrong?"

You went for a hug, this time with tears going down and your crying getting noticeable.

Jake was taken aback by your sudden display of emotion, immediately wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he murmured softly, rubbing your back soothingly. "What happened? Why are you crying?"

You sniffled, trying to compose yourself as you pulled away slightly. "It's just… work," you managed to choke out between sobs. "Mr. Jameson… He wants me to get a photo of Spider-Man for the front page, and I- I don't know how to do it. I'm so screwed, Jake."

Jake's expression softened with understanding, though you had no idea just how much he truly understood. "Hey, it's okay," he repeated, guiding you to sit on his bed. "We'll figure it out, okay? You're not alone in this."

Ni-Ki, hearing the commotion, poked his head out from behind the doorframe. "Jake can help," he said, and you could feel Jake getting tense. You looked up to Ni-Ki.

"What?"

"Jake knows Spider-Man. You could get the picture." You open your eyes as your eyes travel again to Jake's.

"Since when?!" You practically shouted at him, and he gave a shy smile, which you loved, but the thought of him being friends with the hero and not telling you was in your mind.

"I'll tell you right after you clean and calm yourself. You know what? Go to the bathroom." As you were protesting, Jake obligated you to go inside. The boys went straight to the room and locked it, Jake basically punching Ni-Ki for opening his mouth.

"Are you being serious?! Why did you say that?"

"You know I'm fond of her, and I can't stand her crying. And also, I'm doing you a favor; you've liked her since forever, and with this, you can make a move. And you know that she loves Spider-Man. I consider this a win."

Jake's heart raced as he processed Ni-Ki's words. He couldn't deny the truth about them. He had harbored feelings for you for what felt like forever, but he never found the courage to act on them, and because of the sudden powers he got after being bite by a spider, the dangers were too much to the point he would rather die with the secret in order to keep you save. That's how much he loved you.

But at the same time, he couldn't help but feel the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. Keeping his identity as Spider-Man a secret was crucial, and now, with you unknowingly on the brink of discovering the truth, he felt the pressure mounting.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Jake turned to Ni-Ki. "Okay, okay," he muttered, running a hand through his hair in agitation. "But we have to be careful. She can't know about this, Ni-Ki. It's too risky."

Ni-Ki nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I won't say anything else, I promise. Only you have to stay cool, you get to nervous around her. I'm surprise you're not right now" he assured Jake.

"Because someone open his mouth"

"Stop crying and be grateful. I pulled a move that you couldn't make for the past 4 years."

It has already been two days since that weird conversation and the explanation of Jake being friends with Spider-Man. It was so odd to you, but the most odd thing was when he told you by text, "I will send you the address where he's going to be."

And here you were, going into the alley for him to arrive. It was getting late, and you could feel your heart beating fast when you saw a few guys in there, cigars in their hands, their auras as bad as how they looked.

"Hey, sweetheart," one of them said, which you ignored completely.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you ignored the leering comments from the men in the alley. You clutched your camera bag tightly, feeling a surge of unease as you realized just how vulnerable you were in this dimly lit space.

Just as panic threatened to overtake you, a familiar sound cut through the tension—a whoosh of air followed by the distinct thud of impact. Before you could even process what was happening, Spider-Man descended from the shadows, landing gracefully in front of you with his trademark agility.

"Hey there, fellas," Spider-Man said, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. "I don't think the lady appreciates your company."

The men scoffed, eyeing Spider-Man with a mixture of defiance and uncertainty. "And who are you supposed to be, huh?" One of them sneered, taking a step forward. You started taking your camera out of your bag, setting it up for a good shot, and to make it take as many photos as you could as both men focused on the hero.

Spider-Man's demeanor shifted subtly, his stance becoming more assertive as he addressed the group. "Let's just say I'm the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and I'm not too keen on seeing people hassle innocent bystanders, especially this pretty girl," he replied, his tone firm.

The men hesitated, sizing up the masked vigilante before them. But before they could make another move, Spider-Man sprang into action, his movements a blur of speed and precision. With calculated strikes and well-timed dodges, he swiftly incapacitated the would-be troublemakers, leaving them groaning on the ground in defeat.

You watched in awe as Spider-Man effortlessly dispatched the thugs, a surge of gratitude welling up inside you. Once the immediate threat had been neutralized, Spider-Man turned to you, his masked eyes meeting yours with a sense of warmth and reassurance. You took your camera and looked at the pictures, so many good enough to be front page material.

"Are you okay there?" he asked, his concern evident even behind the mask.

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you in his presence. "Yeah, I'm okay," you stammered, still trying to process the whirlwind of events that had just unfolded before you. You felt some drops of water falling on your face, looking up at the sky and wondering if more drops were falling. "Damn it, it's raining."

"Then let me take you out of here." without a warning, his hand wrapped around your waist, both of your bodies covering the camera. "Hold on tight lensgirl," you frown at the nicknmae. There's only one person that could call you like that, but you couldn't think much of it as you held dear life to him as he swang you around places.

You ended up on your apartment building—in your balcony, to be more exact—and the roof kept both of you off the water, you went inside for a moment to leave the camera in your bed and return. He was hanging from the ceiling as you watched him, forcing you to believe that everything that happened in the past ten minutes was not a dream.

"Don't you want to stand up? So you don't get dizzy."

"I like it this way. Don't worry. Are you okay?"

"Yes, I am. Thank you."

"No problem, that's my job."

"Because you're a hero," the masked guy sighs in front of you. making you feel slighty sad for it.

"Some people don't think so." and it was true, all the fake rumors to paint him as a bad guy made you think about how much free time all this people have to just tear the life of someone who really wants to help.

"But you are, at least I think that."

"It's nice to have a fan as pretty as you."

"Let me say thank you."

"But you already did."

"I meant the trip, not you saving me." You approached him more, and the sound of the rain at the back made the scene more lovely. Then slowly took the mask, only showing his lips. You were surprised by the familiar shape, making your mind go wild. No wonder Ni-Ki and Jake got nervous; no wonder Jake was the only one that could help you with the hero; and there's no wonder why he called you "Lensgirl."

Jake was Spider-Man.

Leaving your thoughts behind, you place your lips on his. The kiss was electrifying, a rush of emotions coursing through both of you as your lips met in a tender embrace. Raindrops fell softly around you, adding to the surreal moment as you shared this intimate connection with the masked hero who had just swept you off your feet—literally.

As the kiss deepened, you felt a sense of clarity wash over you. Everything suddenly made sense—the mysterious conversations, the unspoken tension between you and Jake, even the strange nickname he had given you. It was all because he was Spider-Man, the hero you had admired from afar, and now he was the man whose lips were pressed against yours.

Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the kiss, the world fading away until it was just the two of you tangled together on that rooftop balcony.

"Thank you, Jake," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the rain.

"Wait… how?"

"You let out "Lensgirl," and I've stared at your lips too much to actually know the shape," he finally dropped himself, taking off his mask completely, revealing his red cheeks and normal shy demeanor.

He actually searched your face for any sign of rejection. "I know it's a lot to take in," he said softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "But I wanted to tell you, not in this way; I've got to learn to also shut my mouth up. I… I care about you more than you'll ever know."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you reached up to cup his face in your hands, the weight of everything finally sinking in. "I care about you too, Jake," you admitted, your voice trembling with emotion. "I just… I never imagined…"

Before you could finish your sentence, Jake leaned in to capture your lips in another kiss, sealing the unspoken words between you with a promise of something more.

With a smile on your lips and love in your heart, you leaned into Jake's embrace, letting the warmth of his touch chase away the chill of the night as you watched the city skyline glitter in the rain.

"Please write a good news about me."

"Trust me, you'll sure have it, Spidey."

"I just realized that I've to thank Ri-Ki, damn it."

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maxillness · 2 months

Text

Praises And Babies || SV5 x wife!reader

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, praise kink, breeding kink, oral (f), nipple play,

Wordcount: 1.5k

Request: okay so after winning his 3rd wdc, reader asks seb to put a baby in her heheh so breedkink seb x praisekink reader and seb doing both jobs perfectly. also some fluffy aftercare at the end if its okay

It’s stated reader has an accent, but not which one

Tag list: @e-nonsense @babyprofessorsharkpalace

It was the downfall of the race when Seb dropped from fourth to last in one lap. Everyone was on their toes during the whole race

But as good as Seb was, he finished in sixth, which was just enough for him to win his third Championship

“I love you so much, baby” She said, jumping in his arms, hugging him tightly. She pulled back from the hug, only to kiss him hard, which startled him a bit

“Ich liebe dich” He said back, once she pulled away

As they drove back to the hotel, his hand could not leave her. Didn’t matter if it was as simple as holding her hand, or as roughly as grabbing her inner thigh tightly

They waked into the lobby holding hands, it was nothing unusual. It was when they got in the elevator it got unusual

He stood behind her, his arms snaked around her body, planting small kisses on the bare skin on her neck

“What’s going on with you?” She chuckled, feeling his thumbs tracing small circles on her sides

“Nothing. I’m just showing I love you. Can’t I do that?” She would have said yes, if it wasn’t for the way he had started sucking on her skin, making her whimper

“I love you. You’re so fucking pretty” He licked over the few marks he had made, soothing the stinging sensation he had caused

“Seb… If you’re horny, just say so” She said, loving the way his tongue felt on her neck

“You know I always am” He chuckled into her neck, kissing her cheekbone as the doors opened on their floor

He held her waist as she unlocked the door to their room. They walked in and closed the door after them

She could barely take second before she was pushed up against the door, pushing all the air out of her lungs

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” He asked, lips grazing over her own

“You know I always am” She chuckled, put her hands on his waist, pulling him closer, their lips meeting each other

“Good” He gave her one last peck on the lips before he went down to his knees

His hands went under her skirt, pushing it further up her waist. She put her hands on his shoulders as he slid her panties down her legs, letting her step out of them before throwing them to the side

“So fucking wunderschön” He smiled, kissing the inside of her thigh as he lifted her leg on his shoulder

“Seb… Please” She whined, throwing her head back against the door, closing her eyes

Her pleads were cut short as his tongue darted through her folds, collecting the wetness that was already starting to pool out of her

He drew out a moan from her when he went over her clit “Fuck, baby. Just like that” She grinding lightly against his tongue, wanting more pressure

One of his hands pushed her hips lightly against the door, holding her still, while his other hand slowly crept up her leg toward her cunt

Her moans got louder as he started flicking her clit with his tongue, and it didn’t help his ring and middle finger were teasing her entrance

“Baby, please. I need you so bad, please” He loved the way he could have her be a moaning mess, just by his tongue and teasing her entrance

He slowly pushed in his fingers, making her moans shutter and become breathy “Sebastian… Please” Her accent made his name 10 times hotter to hear

He gave into her pleads and started moving his fingers in a rapid fast pace, curling his fingers in the mean time, drawing out all kinds of lewd noises from her

“Fuck, Seb, please. I’m so close. Fuck” Her thighs had slowly started shaking, her knees starting to feel like jelly

He did nothing to stop his actions. He looked up at her, loving the way he was the only one who could get her like this. Fucked out, moaning mess, begging

“Sebastian… Fuck, I’m gonna-“ She didn’t get to finish her sentence before she came around his fingers with a high-pitched, lewd moan

“So good for me” He said, kissing her inner thigh, soothing her back down from her orgasm. He slowed his fingers down before coming to a stop and pulling them out of her

He softly took her leg down from his shoulder, standing back up, towering over her “Look so fucking beautiful like this” She whimpered at his words, seeing how her wetness dripped down from his lips

He pressed their lips together, meeting in a soft and tender kiss “I’ve been thinking” He mumbled into her lips as she kept kissing him, not wanting to let go “Kids… Bet you would look so fucking hot pregnant”

“Definitely. You deserve it” She mumbled, starting to guide them over to the bed

His hands went to her skirt, pulling it down before laying her gently on the bed. His hands went under her top ass well, pulling it off her, leaving her just in her bra

“‘S not fair. You have so much clothes on” She whined, hands grabbing at the hem of his shirt

“Of course. You’ve been such a good girl” He said cheekily, pulling his shirt off

Her hands went on his body immediately. Touching everything she could. His shoulders, his biceps, his waist, his chest, his abdomen

Her hands traveled down to his belt, trying to unbuckle it, but he slapped her hands away “Please. I need you”

“I know, baby. I know. I just want to appreciate you” His lips went to her stomach, starting kiss feather soft kisses along her body

His hands went behind her back, unhooking her bra. As he had gotten it off of her, his lips traveled up her body up to her breasts

His lips went to her right nipple, while his hand went to the other, toying with them both, drawing out whimpers from her, arching her back up into his mouth

“Please, baby, please. I’m begging you, please. I want you inside of me. Please, I’ve been a good girl. I want your cum inside of me” She pleaded, a hand going through his hair

Her words had stirred something inside of him. He didn’t want to appreciate her anymore, he just wanted to be inside her, see if she was falling apart beneath him

He pulled away from her, drawing out a whine from her, letting her back fall back onto the bed

He quickly got off the bed, unbuckling his belt, pulling his pants down as well as his boxers

He settled back in between her legs. He pumped himself a few times before lining up with her entrance, making her whimper

He pushed into her slowly, drawing out a long moan from her. She wrapped her legs around his hips, pushing him further into her

He groaned, dropping his head into the crook of her neck

“You’re so fucking perfect. So good for me. Meine perfekte Frau” My Perfect wife he His words sent a blush down her whole body as he started moving slowly in and out of her

“Faster… Harder… Please” Her words were slurred as she dug her nails into his back, dragging them up and down, leaving marks

He gave into her, thrusting faster and harder into her. The only sounds filling the room were skin-against-skin and their mixed moans and groans

“Sound so perfect. Love your fucking sounds” He groaned as she clenched around him “Gott, you feel so good around me”

She could already feel her second orgasm rising to her body “Seb… I’m close, please” Her rapid clenching around him pulled him closer to the edge

“Just wait a little bit, hunny. Think you can do that for me?” He asked, kissing the bare skin on her shoulder

She could only nod in response, too fucked out at by feeling his cock starting to twitch inside her

His thrusts started getting sloppy, indicating his near orgasm “Come for me, schatzi” His words sent her over the edge, coming for the second time

A few thrusts later, and he came deep inside her. He rode out their orgasm before pulling out of her and quickly replaced his cock with his fingers, fucking his cum into her, making sure nothing would slip out of her

She was absolutely exhausted when he slipped his fingers out of her. He captured her lips in a soft kiss

“You’re always so good for me” He mumbled, kissing down her body “I love you so much, baby” She only hummed at his words, too tired to let any words out

“Wanna shower? They have a tub” He said, smiling against her skin. She agreed, but had a hard time to get up from the bed

#smut #formula one #Sebastian vettel #Sebastian vettel smut #Sebastian vettel x reader #Sebastian vettel x reader smut

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luveline · 3 months

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I am obsessed with the kbd universe! They’re so cute and the babies are adorable. I remember in a previous scenario you said reader would hold his hands with her hands and I feel like they would totally put their hands in each other’s back pocket jeans!! Literally obsessed

dad!steve x mom!reader “Avery Harrington,” you say sternly. “What are you doing?”

Avery shoves a handful of chocolate cereal into her mouth. “What, mom?”

“You got cereal all over the floor, honey, what are you doing?” You kneel down with a sigh and start to rake the cereal into a pile. “You could’ve just asked, Avery. I would’ve made you a bowl. You know, with milk?”

“I didn’t want any milk, mommy.”

She says mommy when she’s in trouble because you can’t stay mad at her. Not when her eyes are all wide like her dad’s, and she’s smiling just like him too. “You want some?” she asks, holding out a handful of chocolate pillows.

You take one. She smiles even wider and throws the rest into her mouth.

“Alright,” Steve says, slipping his hands under your armpits, “what the hell.”

You push your legs under you to help him stand you back up. “She’s hungry, I think.”

“And your solution for this was dry cereal?” Steve asks her.

She nods happily, emphasised by a crunch of cereal as she takes another mouthful.

“Okay,” Steve laughs, pulling your pyjama pants up where they’ve slipped under one hip, and then your shirt down where it’s risen. “Want me to make you a bowl? With milk?”

She giggles and flops back against the fridge. “That’s what mom said.”

“So weird,” Steve murmurs, his arm stretching out behind you. He curls it around you, his hand tucked into the front pocket of your pants. He gives your thigh a deep squeeze. “Like we’re connected or something. Like, soulmates?”

He kisses your cheek to your lips. He tastes a little like the strawberry jelly the girls had on their sandwiches this morning; you can picture it if you think back, Steve holding a teaspoon between his lips as he cut their sandwiches into lopsided stars and hearts. “Love you,” he says, pecking you again before he moves away to check your face. “Guess we better make lunch.”

“Apparently they know how to fend for themselves now.”

“Apparently not.” Steve takes his hand from your pocket, but ends up searching under your shirt instead, fingers with a mind of their own as he traces your tummy. “There’s chocolate pillows everywhere.”

“She’s only little.”

“Yeh, dad! I’m only little,” Avery says through a mouthful.

Steve giggles like a kid and peppers a couple more kisses into your cheek. “She’s a baby. Let’s all have baby food for dinner. Mashed up sweet potatoes and applesauce.”

“I’m not that little,” Avery decides.

“No?” Steve gives you a last temporary farewell kiss before he bends down to give her the same treatment, pulling her up by the armpits, and kissing her chubby cheek. “Too big to be eating cereal on the floor then, aren’t you? Come on, Ave, let’s clean up and I’ll make you some dinner. Go get the vacuum, okay? Let’s clean up these crumbs.”

“Kiss first?”

“You just don’t wanna help me,” Steve grumbles, but he does as she asks, too.

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wileys-russo · 3 months

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Platonic!Alexia Putellas, “How did you even manage to get up there?!?!”, tree

stuck II a.putellas/barça-femeni

"come on!" cata groaned as the ball sailed right past her head again, a widespread grin on your face from the free kick spot. "thats five for five coll, you're losing your touch!" you taunted, the spaniard flipping you off and kicking the ball back to you.

"i'm done with this humilation amiga!" the goalkeeper pulled her gloves off with a defeated shake of her head, making her way out of the goal.

"have you thought about maybe saving some then? won't be so humiliating." you grinned, pulled quickly into a headlock by the girl who chastised you in spanish before letting you up.

"hey!" you groaned as no sooner were you freed did a weight land on your back almost causing your knees to buckle as you stumbled but steadied yourself.

"hola!" mapi sung out, clinging onto you as you tried to shake her off. "finished your laps then?" you laughed, the older girls constant chatter throughout training meaning she was ordered to run an extra ten laps of the pitch under your captains watchful eyes.

"yes! my legs are like jelly compañero, carry me." mapi sighed tiredly, tattooed hand patting your cheek as you struggled to take steps forward.

"for a tiny person you're so heavy." you grunted out as she scoffed in offence. "i am not tiny or heavy!" the defender protested as you rolled your eyes. "tell that to me i'm the one carrying you maría." you groaned out.

"do not call me that! makes me feel like i am in trouble." the older girl huffed as you made your way inside and headed for the change rooms. "why because thats what ingrid says when she's mad at you?" you snickered, whining as mapi sharply tugged your ears for the comment.

"ow! you can walk yourself then!" you dropped her without any warning causing her to fall onto her ass with a hiss of pain. "at least help me up." the older girl held a hand out as you rolled your eyes but grabbed it.

you let out a yelp as suddenly you joined the defender on the ground, mapi hopping to her feet with a grin as a few of the girls wandered out of the change rooms.

"you fall for that everytime pollito." mapi grinned with a shake of her head as you glared up at her, catching both her girlfriends and your captains eyes over mapi's shoulder, both who frowned curiously at the sight of you on the floor.

"ingrid, ale! she's picking on me again." you pouted as ingrids face hardened and she started to quickly walk over, alexia following suit. "mentirosa!" mapi gasped as the taller girls arrived and immediately helped you up.

"she asked me for money for the vending machine and then pushed me over when i said no." you sighed, ingrid pulling you into a tight hug and glaring at her girlfriend whose mouth opened and closed like a fish.

"princesa she's lying!" mapi defended herself with a scoff, eyes burning holes into your head as you sent her a smug smile which quickly turned into a frown when ingrid glanced down at you.

"what have i said about bullying her maría?" ingrid warned as mapi could only scoff in disbelief, alexia running a hand through your hair with a shake of her head.

"honestly, maría you're supposed to be a role model for her she's only sixteen. act your age!" alexia warned, ingrids arms still protectively wrapped around you as both girls guided you away.

you only peeked around them and grinned at mapi who was staring after you venomously, your hand curling up to flip her off as her jaw dropped before you rounded a corner and were out of sight.

as much as in that moment mapi wanted nothing more than to wring your neck, she couldn't deny she really did harbour a large soft spot for you, seeing a lot of herself within you and hoping to be able to use that to guide you forward as you grew older.

so when an hour later you appeared seemingly out of nowhere with a smile and a peace offering in the form of her favourite candy bar, she didn't have a choice but to roll her eyes and pull you into a hug.

however just because mapi cared for you did not stop her also viewing you as the ultimate source of entertainment. as pina and patri grew wiser they stopped giving into the dares and challenges mapi would set them, frustratingly.

but then you came along and suddenly her attentions shifted, forever egging you on to do things to mess with your teammates, and most of the time helping you.

your innocent smile and charming demeanor meant that you were the perfect shield for her to hide behind, alexia rarely ever able to stay upset with you for more than a moment and everyone else just brushing it off as you being young and adventurous.

it was on this particular tuesday after you'd weasled your way back into mapi's good books and alexia had landed herself onto her hit list with the extra laps that mapi decided to make a move.

"i bet you cannot hide ale's boots somewhere she can't find them pollito." mapi pulled you into the change rooms as everyone else headed off for lunch, the defender watching on gleefully at the way your face lit up at the challenge.

"is this because of the extra laps?" you questioned, not quite as gullible as mapi had hoped as she rolled her eyes. "maybe." was all the defender replied as you shrugged, not really needing much convincing to go forward with it anyway.

despite the fact she kept an incredibly tidy home, which you would know given the fact you lived with her, alexia's cubby was rarely not messy, boxes on boxes of shoes stacked on the top shelf as various bottles, medical tape and knick knacks littered the cubby itself.

you smiled at the photos of her and her family taped to the wall having been all but legally adopted into it anyway, eli claiming you as her third daughter from the very moment she met you. you rolled your eyes at the pictures of you taped up, most of which were taken candidly when you weren't looking.

standing up on the bench you rifled through the various nike boxes until you found your captains favourite pair of boots, tugging them out and placing everything back the way you found it.

"where are you going?" mapi asked with a confused frown as you hopped down and headed for the door with the boots in hand. "you only said to hide them, you didn't say it had to be in here."

"you're not landing that!" mapi scoffed in disbelief as you'd tied alexia's boots together and were attempting to throw them up and over a tall tree branch, routinely missing time and time again as they fell to the grass and you sighed.

"new plan." you hummed looking around for a new hiding spot. "or, climb up." mapi gestured to the tree as you looked at it with a hint of uncertainty. "unless you are too scared, pollito." mapi taunted making chicken noises as your jaw hardened.

"gimme those." snatching the boots out of her hand you slung them around your neck, looking up again at the tree with a newfound determination, mapi cheering you on as you started to climb.

"see!" you grinned successfully, sat on a branch and hanging alexia's boots with a satisfied nod, mapi clapping her approval and gesturing for you to get down.

"uh maps?" you called out as the defender had started to walk back toward the training building, turning and raising an eyebrow as your face paled. "i can't." you shook your head as hers cocked to the side in confusion.

"what do you mean?" "i mean, i can't get down." you admitted, not having thought that far when you'd clambered up here, the height in which you were sat now dawning on you as suddenly things became even worse.

"pequeña?" your eyes widened as alexia wandered out, clearly looking for you as she spotted mapi and walked over, asking in spanish if she had seen you considering lunch had long began and you weren't ever someone to miss food.

"okay amiga, don't be mad." mapi started placing her hands on her best friends shoulders who immediately frowned. "maría that is the easiest way to get me mad!" alexia warned with a scowl, pushing her hands off as ingrid walked out next followed by frido as you sighed in defeat.

"whats going on? ale did you find her?" frido asked as the two arrived and mapi rubbed the back of her neck with a guilty smile ingrid knew all too well. "where is she amor?" her girlfriend sighed, rubbing her temple with her fingertips already knowing something bad was happening.

"eh...there?" her hand moved to stretch toward the sky, finger pointing you out as the three girls eyes followed, widening in horror as you gave them a small wave, cheeks flushed red.

"maría. why is she in a tree?" alexia turned her gaze on her best friend who shrank, frido and ingrid hurrying over to the tree as mapi started to back up, alexia advancing with clenched fists.

"its a funny story?" mapi tried with a nervous laugh, turning on heel and sprinting off as alexia moved to grab the back of her training top but missed, cursing under her breath.

"traitor!" you yelled after the tattooed footballer who disappeared inside. "get down älska. right now!" frido yelled glaring up at you as your body deflated. "i can't." you mumbled, barely loud enough for them to hear.

"how did you even manage to get up there!?" alexia yelled making you wince, ingrid already on the phone to someone as you swang your legs back and forth avoiding the blondes eyes.

"i climbed up, just didn't think about how to climb down." you admitted as alexia inhaled and closed her eyes, counting to three as frido rubbed her back sympathetically.

"firetruck will be here in ten, they'll get her down." ingrid returned as your eyes widened in shock. "no way! this place is huge and you're saying the groundsmen don't even have a ladder?" you whined with a groan.

"i hope you told them to have the sirens on." alexia glared up at you as your eyes widened even further. "oh yes. lights, sirens, the full experience." ingrid confirmed as you exhaled deeply, crossing your arms and huffing unhappily.

and lights and sirens there were.

the disruption had caused practically the entire team and staff to come outside, your face burning bright red in embarrassment as an erruption of teasing, whistles and cheers greeted you once your feet hit the grass again.

you hissed in pain as alexia appeared, grabbing your ear and twisting it. "what do you say?" she ordered pointing to the firemen who helped you. "thank you." you mumbled, eyes trained to the ground and wincing as alexia pinched harder. "and?"

"sorry for wasting your time." you mumbled again, nearly falling over your feet as the furious blonde dragged you away still with a firm grip on your ear, your blush deepening at the teasing words from everyone which followed.

"nope! you too." mapi tried to hide before she was seen but it was to no avail as alexia grabbed the younger girls ear and pulled her inside, mapi whining while you remained silent, ingrid following after her with a dissapointed look.

"sit!" you were both pulled into the locker room and pushed to sit down side by side on the bench, mapi glaring up at her best friend and rubbing her ear as you remained silent, eyes trained to the floor.

"sorry chiqui." mapi winced as she looked at you and your ear which was just as red as hers, trying to hug you as you pushed her off and sent her a filthy look making her cringe.

both your gazes shifted as alexia cleared her throat, eyes still ablaze with anger as ingrid stood beside her fixing her girlfriend with a look that meant mapi knew she'd be sleeping in the living room tonight, no exceptions.

"why the hell were you in a tree huh? estúpido!" you frowned as alexia directed the question to you, words racing through your head as something clicked and your frown melted into a pout.

when you added a sad sigh that only mapi knew was very much so fake, her head turned, eyes wide in fear of what was about to come out of your mouth.

"capi i only went up there for you." you mumbled, hitting alexia with your best puppy dog eyes as she frowned and mapi inhaled sharply, seeing where you were going to take this.

"what do you mean?" alexia asked, tone a little softer now as again you sighed.

"well mapi threw your boots up there and i know they're your favourite pair ale so i tried to climb up and get them back for you, but then i got stuck and mapi ran away without helping me." you rested your chin on your fist with another sad sigh.

"pequeña diablo mentiroso." mapi whispered under her breath, shaking her head with a look of disbelief as you glanced to her, corners of your mouth upturned smugly just for a moment.

"maría!" ingrid hissed in disbelief as mapi stammered out the truth but it was far too late, alexia already sat on your other side and looking over your ear, kissing your forehead and cooing repeated apologies as you tucked yourself into her side.

"we're leaving. go!" ingrid warned sternly, pointing to the door as mapi gave up defending herself, grabbing her bag as ingrid hugged you tightly, saying something inaudible as you smiled at mapi over her shoulder.

"you lose!" you mouthed at her smugly as the defender sighed deeply, shaking her head before mouthing something back at you, admittedly almost as proud as she was infuriated.

"well played amiga."

#woso community #woso #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #mapi leon #mapi leon x reader #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #barcelona femeni #barcelona femini

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