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improbable-outset · 4 months

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📂 '𝐓𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎3 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.8k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Fingering, Bratty!Reader, Miguel humbling you, innuendos, finger licking, orgasm denial. This can be read as fwb or established relationship 🤭 I kept it vague here but I prefer the former

𝐀/𝐍: Okay, a seasonal special fic even though I don’t celebrate Christmas myself lol. This is more smut heavy than festive. I had fun with this one though icl

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It’s the holiday season and for some reason, you thought it would be a good idea to rile Miguel up more than you usually do. That was until you were taken back to his lab and he gained the upper hand over you.

He couldn’t remember how he even allowed something like this to happen in his sanctuary. Something so unnecessary, so tedious. A waste of time really.

Initially, it was Peter who came up to him and asked about throwing a party in the Spider Society cafeteria.

Immediately declined.

His flamboyant demeanor and exasperated tone only added to Miguel’s accumulating annoyance. But the following day, you approached him to ask the same question but this time around, he was very hesitant to say no.

But he didn’t accept it so easily either. Not without enough persuasion and coaxing from you. He didn’t need to think too deeply to know that you both definitely discussed this beforehand and planned on how you were going to approach him.

How insufferable. Reluctantly he gave in.

Now here he was, leaning against the far corner of the cafeteria with the place far too festive for his liking.

He gripped in vexation onto the plastic cup that was half-filled with booze in his hand, crinkling the plastic. He took a prolonged sip, hoping he could drown himself with enough alcohol to blur out the scene that was folding in front of him right now.

The room filled with the sounds of laughter and banter from the Spider People that surrounded him.

Even with some of them greeting him, he still felt disconnected from it all, like a fish out of water. Everyone’s ease at each other’s company made his own solitude more apparent.

He could be back in HQ in the familiar confinement of his office. Even if he didn’t like looking at the monitors and watching the multiverse all day, at least he was comfortable.

The only reason he was here right now was because he could use this as an excuse to admire you. Why did he have to give in to you like this? Why were you his biggest weakness? Your persuasive nature, while it can be irksome at times, held a strange allure and he hated that it had him on a chokehold.

After roaming his eyes around the crown, he finally caught sight of you. As expected, you were engaged in a hearty conversation with a group of Spider People, including Peter and Jess.

You always drew people in like a magnetic force and though Miguel hated being too social, he still found you captivating. As you graced through the room, you left a trail of laughter and sweetness behind you.

Your gaze eventually fell on him, where he stood in the corner of the room before you glided your way to him through the maze of the crowd, carrying the warm air with you.

“I know this isn’t your type of scene but you don’t need to be sulking in the corner like that.” You quipped as you leaned against the wall beside him. You had your spider suit on, just like everyone else, in addition to a few red and green tinsel around your wrist and your hair that shimmered under the cafeteria lighting.

“I’m not sulking.” He resorted back, giving you a sideways glance to maintain his eye contact, instead of turning to fully face you. The last thing he wanted was to be caught staring at you.

You wavered your hands in response, almost dismissing his comment. “Right, right. Observing, brooding — same difference.”

“What are you trying to get out of this?”

“Nothing— you think I’m that cruel that I’d try to prod something out of you.” You said, moving from your position so you were standing in front of him, leaving him no choice but to look down on you. “You can let loose a little, you know. You might enjoy it.” Even with the aroma of various food from the buffet lingering in the air, Miguel still caught a whiff of your scent that overshadowed it all, which triggered a sudden rush of heat to reach his cock under his digital suit— but not enough to give him a hard on, thankfully.

“I find enjoyment in…other things. Not festive gatherings.” He countered, attempting to maintain his composure despite your subtle teasing. The way you were leaning in wasn’t helping his case.

“Shame. I’d assume you’d loosen up especially since it is the holidays,”

He only recoiled in response. “You’re relentless.”

You were more than that. The past few days before this event, you’ve been progressively trying to push his buttons; it only gotten worse each day.

It started off when a new recruit joined the Spider Society and you volunteered to be his mentor and give him private sessions. He knew you only did it to flicker the flame of jealousy within him.

Fortunately he managed to keep his shit together and was nonchalant about the situation, knowing it would disappoint you to see no reaction out of him.

But then you would resort to being more physical with your teasing.

You would squeeze past him and ‘accidentally’ brush your ass against his crotch. At first he thought it was a coincidence until you tried to do it again.

“Mhmm, guilty at charge. Tell you what, I'll let you stay here and sulk in the corner for a little while and then we can go back to the lab later and I’ll take the ugly Christmas sweater off of you.”

Shocking hell, please do.

You were killing him but he wasn’t going to let you get to his head that easy.

“Thanks for the privilege…” he mumbled lowly into his cup he had been nursing, before taking another swing.

You flashed a smile in response before mingling back into the crowd. Miguel could only chew on his lower lip to suppress the amusing smirk that tugged on his lips.

The next few hours felt stretched out. But finally, he was back in the privacy of his lab with you. The door closed behind with a quiet click before Miguel instructed Lyla to lock it.

It was easy to tell that the decor in the lab was a reflection of Miguel’s personality: equipment was stringently organised with no additional decorations, showcasing his no-nonsense approach to his work. The room ambiance was a testament to his preference for efficiency and purpose, with low lighting for his sensitive eyes.

Miguel lifted you up from the waist, his muscles flexing briefly, before placing you on one of the empty countertops.

“You know, if I had to take a wild guess, I’d say you were purposely sulking just so I could save you back there,” you commented, a daring tone in your voice. A coy grin played on your lips as you watched him intently. Miguel overlooked your tease and leaned in until he was eye level with you.

“You realise I can see right through you. I noticed your behaviour over the past few days and how bratty you’ve been acting.” He was staring intently at you to catch any falter in your expression. Even if you did have the upper hand over him the last few days, this was all still amusing to him, watching the way you acted.

“Oh, should I dial it down for you?”

“Well, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it”

He drew himself closer until his lips were close enough to brush against yours. His hands glided along your sides before grasping your waist to pull you close.

He wasn’t going to kiss you, not yet. If he was going to get you back for teasing him, he was going to drag this out for as long as he could, just to throw you off and see how long you’d last.

The ghost of your exhales from your parted lips fanned against his before you pulled your face away completely and slipped from his grasp and got yourself down from the desk, leaving him perplexed.

“Do you want some empanadas?” You asked, holding up a paper box stacked with napkins before flashing him a sugary smile.

Miguel had to blink a few times before he lost his composure. It took him a few heartbeats for him to fully process what just happened.

You seemed to have completely snapped him out of the sensual mood you were sharing.

“What?” His voice gave away his confusion.

“I got them from the cafeteria. I know you love them, so I got enough for both of us.”

He couldn’t tell if your sudden change of behaviour was to mess with him or if you genuinely just wanted to share some food with him. But knowing you, he had a strong sense that it was the former.

“You went from nearly eating my lips to offering empanadas in a span of two seconds.”

“I’m hungry.” You pouted before opening the box to reveal the steaming empanadas inside and held it out to him. “They’re still warm, you know.” You prodded, gesturing to him to take one.

There had to be a catch from this but nevertheless he took one of the pastries from the box. The savoury scent was too good to resist.

You helped yourself to one before you settled yourself back on the desk. He watched you to see if you had anything else planned or if you were going to dial up your seemingly bratty behaviour before he took a bite out of the pastry. You kept your gaze at him and watched him eat.

“Something you want to say?” He asked. You finished off the empanada in your hand before you spoke.

“I think chicken empanadas are better.” You stated.

Miguel couldn’t tell where you were going with this but for now, he played along.

“The beef ones are definitely better,” he replied, finishing his own empanada in his hand before wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“But the chicken one is more tender,”

“That doesn’t make it better. It’s about the flavour not texture,” he further added to his argument.

For a moment, he dismissed everything that had just happened a few minutes ago and now fully concentrated on debating on which empanadas are more delicious. This was a hill he was prepared to die on and he waited to see what you’d say next.

He didn’t expect you to lean in closer from your seat but he didn’t break eye contact with you just yet. You took another empanada from the box and held it near his mouth.

He cocked an inquisitive brow at you in response. The aroma was filling his senses again and he was getting tempted as you moved your hand closer.

“Bite,” you simply commanded. He gave in and bit down on the empanada you provided for him. He chewed carefully before looking back at you again. “It does taste better when you’re being fed by your girl though,” you teased.

“Now you’re just gloating. But I do have to agree it does taste better this way,” he said before taking another bite. The steam from the filling of the pastry wavered around his nostrils.

There was the last bit of the empanada still in your hand, small enough for him to finish off in one bite. As he took the bite, his lips lightly grazed against your fingertips. The touch was subtle but enough for you to freeze up in your seat.

It wasn’t intentional but after seeing your reaction, he couldn’t help his lips from curling up to a satisfied smirk.

He noticed there were a few flaky crumbs of the pastry on your fingers still. Before you could regain your wits and say something, he reached out and started licking the crumbs from your fingers.

He kept his eyes on you to see your reaction, watching your face fall even more.

“What are— what are you doing?” You stuttered out.

“What does it look like? I’m just cleaning up the mess on your fingers.” He continued lapping up your fingers, dragging his tongue slowly over each digit.

You couldn’t do anything but watch in astonishment. At times, Miguel had the upper hand over the two of you and would do something that would leave you speechless, just like now.

You stifled out a low moan and clamped your legs together. Miguel picked up on your body language and his breathing became shallow.

“Someone’s enjoying this more than they should…” He placed a hand on your thigh while lapping up the last flake from your thumb.

You seemed to be drawn back to the present now as your gaze was glued to his hand on your thigh. His hands glided to your inner thigh and stopped at the crease where your thigh meets your torso.

He leaned in to reach the back opening of your suit with his lips feeling the pulse on your neck increasing alarmingly fast.

His ears filled with the subtle swooshing sound of your suit now as it stretched and adjusted to its removal. After a few tugs and pulls, he finally got the suit off you.

He pulled off your panties immediately after to reveal your slick cunt.

“Shocking hell,” he let out a low chuckle at the raw sight of you.

“Be quiet-” you grunted

“Or what?” He slipped a finger through your slick and into your folds, causing you to jolt in surprise.

Your walls fluttered before squeezing around him as he dragged his fingers in and out of you. You grasped onto his biceps and rested your forehead on his shoulders, a low wimped slipping from your lips.

“Mig-” you whimpered.

He continued pumping his fingers in your heated core, feeling how desperate you were for him. The way you rolled your hips in sync with his fingers got his own body responsive.

He felt the familiar heat that rushed to his pelvic area, making his cock twitch desperately under his suit.

The room filled with the squelching sounds from his fingers that was overshadowed by your low moans and it served as a fuel to his perverse delight.

He learned every crevice and every micro expression you made as you frantically tried to reach your high. And he knew how your body responded to all his touches.

He recognised that you were reaching your peak the way your walls tightened even more and how your body shuddered, preparing you for the overwhelming relief. However, just at the very last second, Miguel withdrew his fingers, immediately halting the sensation you were experiencing.

You pulled yourself away when you could feel his fingers anymore, your face dropped in shock.

“Miguel, why?” You croaked out, your voice hoarse from the bliss.

Miguel’s finger was glistening from your wetness. He used his other hand to hold your chin as he spoke.

“You really think I’m going to let you finish after the way you’ve been behaving over the last few days?” He said, almost growling now.

“You can’t be serious…”

“I’m dead serious, muñeca.”

You huffed out in frustration and Miguel felt a surge of satisfaction growing in his chest. He finally had the upper hand after being tormented by you for so long.

But he wasn’t going to do anything that would purposely hurt your emotions. This was just to give you a taste of your own medicine. You gazed back up at him.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry for my behaviour. Now could you please let me finish…” you begged.

“Promise me.”

“I promise, please…” your voice was becoming more frantic now and it only made his cock twitch even further, making it harder for him to deny you even more.

He knew that if he was going to let you release now, your orgasm would be more mind shattering and intense from built up tension from the delayed climax.

He slipped two fingers in this time, feeling the warmth of your walls immediately contracting in response. Your muscles were like velvet and steel at the same time— soft and pliant yet having a vice-like grip on his fingers.

Your eyes followed his hand movement but Miguel lifted your chin with his other hand again so you would look back up at him.

“No me quintes los ojos de encima muñeca.” He instructed. You obeyed.

He watched as your face warped and your brows furrowed as you were lost in the heat of your pleasure while he let his fingers do the talking.

It didn’t take long for your walls to squeeze tighter around him along with your moans becoming more frantic, a familiar trance of your impending release.

Your body convulsed as you unraveled and his fingers were bathed from the sweet nectar of your arousal.

Miguel pulled his fingers out of your heated core, both digits now slippery and sticky from your natural lubricant.

“Be good to me and I’ll let you cum on my cock next time,” he kissed your forehead.

You, on the other hand, we’re still breathless from your bliss. You gulped before you opened your lips to speak. “Thanks for the privilege…”

Icl, I kinda ate with the dialogues here 🤭🤭 God bless c.ai otherwise I would’ve never written that empanada scene

#miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #spiderman atsv #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 #miguel smut #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #♦︎— spicy #★— ayrus writes

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nanaminsmoon · 8 months

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babydaddy!connie x blackfem!reader

a/n: this one made my heart ache a little icl. but i had to put this song because it goes so well😭

pt.2

cw: pnv, unprotected sex, infidelity (reader cheats), connie calls reader; 'ma', 'hermosa', ”es bueno, ma?” ("is it good, ma?"), "quieres otro hijo, hm? you want a boy or a girl? dime, and i’ll give it to you” ("you want another kid, hm? [...] tell me, and i'll give it to you"),

wc: 3380

“why’s my daughter telling me you got a boyfriend?”, booming from where its owner was stood at the door, connie’s voice abruptly entered your ear canals to bring your attention to him. after hugging your daughter, you had kept your front door open for connie to come in if he wanted to. and, when he followed you both inside, you had just assumed he was bringing in your daughter’s belongings. even as he stuck around after having placed her bags in her bedroom, his presence was dashed to the back of your mind. now, as your child sat in the garden eating with her aunt, he was demanding your attention as he leant against the doorframe.

“because i do”, your eyes were trained on the soapy dishes in front of you, and they wouldn’t divert as you spoke. meaning you didn’t see the incredulous expression on your ex-boyfriend’s face, as his features scrunched at your straight forward response.

“the fuck you need a boyfriend for?”, he asked. confusion was laced through every word in that sentence to hold it together so it could leave his mouth. barely.

“because we can't fuck as friends forever, connie. at some point we both need to move on, and i have”, you answered, frankly. the decision to coparent came after you and connie decided to break up four years ago. and four long years had been hastened by sunday sunsets spent behind closed bedroom doors when he returned your daughter back to you. meaning that suspicions did rise when the emotions sprawled on your face, at the end of every week, had become more impassive—the lustful glimmer in your irises, dimming to a seemingly more platonic one. yet, connie never said anything, he just assumed you wanted space. that’s not to say that it didn’t bother him, but he knew that he couldn’t beg you to come back to him. as much as he did want to.

because, contrary to popular belief, connie had changed since you two broke up. having heard the news of you having a boyfriend, old connie would’ve had a video of some girl throwing ass on him seared into the back of your eyelids by sundown. but old connie had never developed an understanding of how important his family was, and new connie would lose his life before he lost his girls. yet, these two different versions of the same man still shared one similarity; their love for antagonising you.

“so you're just bringing randoms into the place my daughter sleeps?”, connie exaggerated as he always did, irritation audible in his tone. and you’d roll your eyes at him.

“first off, he's not a random, he's my boyfriend. and second, this is my house, i can bring in whoever i want”, you said, wiping a pan. that term, ’my boyfriend’, was an anvil that sunk connie’s intestines to his feet in a way he had never felt before. it was hard to put a finger on what exact feeling it induced, but he did know that it pressed his dreams, of getting his family back, into grains of sand that would escape his grasp through the growing gaps in his fingers.

“has she met him?”, he asked, cautiously, looking at his sock covered feet in the slippers you had always kept for him. in the past, that had been a gesture that made him feel at home with you; something that made him feel like you still cared for him the way he did you. but now, the slippers felt uncomfortable. like they were growing in size, and the only person capable of wearing them was someone he could never be—like he couldn’t fill them anymore, and you knew that so you had gotten someone else to do it.

“yeah, he came over and cooked us dinner and she loved it.”, you said, tone coming out more braggy than you had hoped. and that hurt connie more than it angered him, but the latter was the only thing he was capable of expressing.

“so what, you gonna marry him?”, those words were abrupt, even surprising connie’s ears. but they’d be met with a scoff from your glossed lips as annoyance built inside you. your love life was none of his concern, and he knew that, so his entitlement infuriated you beyond belief.

“i don't know, connie”, you said, vexed, as you waved him off, “even if i was, why’s that any of your business?”,

“’cause you're the mother of my child. as long as she's here, your business is my business”, the truth in that statement rested in what connie didn’t say. that being, you were the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with so, whether you liked it or not, his heart had already staked its claim on you. and he needed to know who to fend off, to keep you by his side.

no thoughts spawned in your mind at that statement, so you’d just remain silent as you continued what you were doing. that gave connie enough time to search for straws to clutch at to get you back. but he could only ever draw one. that was the one that placed a small smile on his face as his tongue swiped across his bottom lip; if connie couldn’t win your mind over, he’d try his luck at the one thing that refused to obey the former.

”so we’re done? not even one more time for the road?”, connie’s shoulder pushed his body off the doorframe, before he started making his way toward you. a stutter in your mind would replay that phrase, ’one more time for the road’, until it finally clicked.

“we're not fucking, no”, you said, avoiding eye contact.

“just quickly, ma. i know you miss it.”, connie’s smirk would only widen when his statement received no rebuttal. and it’d stay that way as he walked to stand right behind you—he’d place a hand on either side of you, pushing you right against the counter. all you could muster was a harsh swallow as connie moved closer to you, and his breath would be touching your neck as he spoke, voice lowered.

"you used to call me all the time telling me you ain't never had dick like this. and i know he ain't fucking you good enough for you to forget about me", connie’s lips brushed past your ear. a brief shudder would intensify to wring out any suppressed longing you held for him, producing a moist patch at the front of your underwear. and that was before you could even feel his desperation, to keep you his, pressing into your lower back. once that’d register, you’d have to breathe deeply to release the temptation building within you.

"i'm not cheating on my man, connie", you said, voice shaking. a sigh would fall from connie’s lips, hitting the spot on your neck they planned to cover, before transfiguring into a tingle that explored your back. one of connie’s favourite things about you was your loyalty, so that answer was expected. but he’d still kiss his teeth at the knowledge that it was now being directed toward someone else.

"then leave him", he’d say, an inch away from your neck, before his plump lips would attach to the skin there. a proprietorial mark would be etched onto your skin when connie heard you sigh out in pleasure. the erasure of all his doubts would arrive when you tilted your head to give him better access. and those doubts would then be quashed completely when your hand rose to run your fingers through his buzzcut.

a few more kisses to the neck, combined with connie’s hand venturing into the front of your leggings to rub away all loyalties to your man, affirmed connie’s statements about you missing him. but once you were in the privacy of your bedroom, he could actually feel how much you missed him; your need for him was prominent in the way you tightened around his length like you feared letting him go. this was the first time where fucking you was a welcomed struggle, pulling out of you being a necessity he wanted to avoid. mainly due to the connection of your foreheads, connie couldn’t see anything but you; the noises you made, your scent, the look he could discern in your eyes when they weren’t exploring their sockets, all of it warmed his heart in an infuriatingly delightful way. and there was no way you hadn’t missed him, and the way he knew your body inside out. the way he knew where to kiss as your legs rested over his shoulders, a pillow sat underneath your hips as your nails painted stripes onto the skin on his back. five years ago, connie fucked you in every position he could think of, but separation birthed the need for closeness. so now, whenever you two fucked, it was always in a position that allowed for his eyes to be locked with yours as his tip poked that spot that had made you nut twice already.

”es bueno, ma?”, he asked and you’d nod a reply, pulling a smile from the man above you. you were all he could see, and perhaps that’s why he saw love in everything that surrounded him.

prior to this point in his life, connie’s need to build a family with you had never been a focal point for him. but now it was all he could see; he saw it in the envy that followed him around at the sight of families happily laughing together, he saw it in the ducks dutifully trailing their mother at the pond near your house, and he felt it when the merging of you and your daughter’s giggles made his heart feel swollen in a way he could never soothe. if he had it his way, you’d both be married with four kids living in some mansion somewhere. but when push came to shove, his ideals only ever amounted to short-lived ‘conversations’ when you two were fucking,

”quieres otro hijo, hm? you want a boy or a girl? dime, and i’ll give it to you”, a fucked out mutter would always fall from your lips, and that’s the only answer he could ever get from you. because the answer you gave him any other time, tore his heart into a million pieces he had yet to locate. your boyfriend posed a new challenge for him, so connie would have to tell you how he felt before he lost you forever. feverish kisses would be placed on any skin connie would reach, as his hips sped up. pleasured mumbles would mean nothing to him, because he could feel your body warning him of your release.

”i’m yours, hermosa, just—fuck—nut on it”, he’d instruct, and your body would obey. this man was fucking you so good, you could’ve sworn you felt your soul leave its vessel, to watch you coating connie and the bed underneath you, in your arousal. and connie wouldn’t be far behind—hips losing their rhythm, and low ’fuck’s leaving his mouth before he started kissing you again.

”ifuckingloveyou”, he messily kissed onto your lips and surprise struck you so hard, you didn’t even register your own mouth speaking back to him,

”mmloveyoutoo”, those words would be enough to trigger a twitching in connie’s balls that would empty them, until he was leaking out of you.

the kiss you two shared was bittersweet, both literally and figuratively. not just due to the lingering taste of the results of your aching throat, mixing with the reason why you could still feel his lips wrapping around your clit, but also because connie felt like he was flirting with a dream that could never be realised. but that wouldn’t stop you two from losing yourself in each other and making out for a few minutes. until you’d hear a knock. all movements would be halted, and there’d be silence from behind the door. then winces, and small hisses of discomfort, would fill the space as connie pulled out of you before getting up to put his boxers on. he’d step off the bed, walking over to the door to tend to, who he thought was, his daughter.

”princesa, we’ll be out in a second, okay?”, connie shouted to the other side of the door, but the voice he heard was not the one he was expecting.

“the fuck’s going on?!”, connie’s eyes would dart back to your wide ones, before a smirk would quickly grace his face. it was clear to see that he was trying his very hardest to not burst into laughter, despite your panic being written all over you. disorientation clouded you to the point that you didn’t even realise that the shirt you decided to put on your body was connie’s. but he would. and he wouldn’t say anything, even as you walked to the door to talk to your boyfriend.

”i can explain”, is all you’d manage to get out to your man, before he’d open the door further to find connie sitting himself on the bed, covering himself with the sheets he’d just put on his lower half. the lower half of his face remained smug, but the upper half of it was focused as he watched the scene unfolding in front of him; desperate hands grappling to hold your boyfriend’s arms or hands, as he paced the room, trying to digest what he was seeing. connie’s enjoyment would be short-lived, ending when he heard the angry words your boyfriend was throwing at you.

”shoulda fucked her better, then i wouldna had to do it”, he said, still laid on the bed. the room would fall still once again, and you’d look at him in pleading. he’d shrug, but acquiesce, not saying anything after that comment. that seemed to be the final straw for your boyfriend, because he’d say something about needing to go outside before walking out.

the blustering of infuriated footsteps would fade out as you followed your boyfriend down the hallway to the front door. connie would sit in waiting, leaning against the headboard, as he contemplated what this meant for the both of you, but those thoughts would be cut short at your return. alone. it turns out, no amount of apologies or promises that this will never happen again could convince your boyfriend to stay. and, though that elated connie more than he cared to admit, he couldn’t help the lump forming in his throat at the sight of your slumped posture as you sandwiched your lip between your teeth, swallowing pained tears. that lump would block any sly comments he planned to make. in fact, he wouldn’t even speak as he got up to walk to you, hands reaching to pull you closer to him. even as you pushed him away,

”leave me alone”, you chided, quietly. but, no matter how hard you pushed, connie would overpower you to pull you into the warmest hug you’d had in months. its warmth would invite your arms to wrap around him, sobs spilling into his bare chest the second your cheek touched it. not once letting go, connie would pull you back into bed, wrap you in the sheets, before comforting you. relief drowned a certain of him as it knew that he had a chance of getting you back. but the part of him that still had its head above water wrestled with guilt; there’s nothing this man wanted for you than happiness, and seeing his hands be the ones to take it away from you pained him.

the commotion of everything numbed you to your environment, so it would be only a few moments before your distraught sobs would reach the ears of the person you wanted to hear them least. small knocks would bring yours and connie’s attention to the half-open door, and you’d try to get yourself together, but there was only so much you could do to hide the shadows of sorrow reddening your eyes, and creating darkened splotches on connie’s shirt. as soon as you saw your daughter reach up to comfort you, you’d climb off the bed and hug her, feeling your heart start to glue back together when she wiped a tear off your face. both you and connie would instruct her to wait for you in the living room and you’d begin getting dressed properly once you’d hear her run off excitedly.

the both of you would get dressed, and walk down the stairs, in silence. the most connie would provide would be an arm around your shoulder, and a kiss to your temple, which you accepted happily. and, as soon as you were within an earshot of the living room, you’d hear ’the little mermaid’ playing for the nth time, accompanied by the usual harmonisations provided by your daughter’s jovial singing. you’d be admiring the blankets, cushions, and snacks she had set up before you’d be distracted by the rustling of connie putting his shoes and coat on. every fibre of your being would beg you to stop him, but you’d try and convince yourself that he probably had somewhere to be. however, such considerations meant nothing to your hand that was already reaching to grab at his own,

”stay.”, you asked quietly, and his eyes would widen at the request. of course he wanted to stay, but he didn’t think you’d want to spend another minute around the man who had just ruined your relationship. but then once your daughter ran up to him, pouting while asking,

”please~”, his decision would be made for him.

as you watched the movie, you’d notice connie’s eyes fixated on you. at first you thought he was watching your daughter wave her little mermaid doll around but, when you’d turn to check, you’d be met with direct eye contact. his lips would fall agape only to meet again, before they’d open to allow their owner to mouth a belated apology,

”i’m sorry”, his swollen lips would trace out, and a forgiving ”it’s okay” would be mouthed by your own lips. there’d a second where you’d just be staring at each other in mutual love and understanding. it was obvious that this chapter wasn’t finished, not when the authors holding the pens had changed immensely since the day the first page of the book had been written. but small hands would rise to push your faces to face the screen, and connie’s own inability to forgive himself for his actions would shift his eyes to the floor. that’s when they’d narrow in on the slippers that did nothing but breed insecurity. a small voice in his head would ask him if they still felt hard to fill, and admittedly, they still did. yet, looking at them again, he didn’t mind that. though the future still held uncertainties, the feeling of you and your daughter leaning on him, as his arm reached around to embrace you both, filled the gaps of himself he had lost confidence in. because this was all he had ever wanted; to become a person that could be leant on by the people he cared for most. both of you. for as long as his lungs held breath, and for as long as the image of you and your child falling asleep on him every night, was the only one his subconscious could conjure up when his head met his pillow at the end of every day.

#nanaminsmooninc #aot x black reader #aot x black y/n #connie springer x black reader #connie x black reader #connie x black y/n #connie smut #aot connie #Spotify

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lewisvinga · 8 months

Text

chocolate almond croissant | jude bellingham x fem! perez! reader

summary; jude bellingham and the granddaughter of florentino pérez, the president of real madrid, soft launch their relationship

fc; nailea devora

note; i haven’t written in forever and i’ve never done a smau on tumblr so here’s my attempt😋😋 my requests are closed btw 😁

masterlist !

liked by bsfuser, judebellingham, and 739,038 others!

ynperez: in france, kinda want a baguette

user1: mother

user2: i wanna be u

bsfuser: u only know the words oui and allez les bleus

ynperez: i know cama ooh too

camavinga: i feel so special

user3: anyone see jude in her likes

user4: he’s trying to get on presi’s good side

user5: our future president

user6: tell papa pérez to send the damn bid

user7: i’m a culer but i love yn

liked by ynperez, camavinga, and 2,038,937 others!

judebellingham: the south of france

user8: we were in the same country we’re meant to be guys

user9: my faves

user10: going feral rn

camavinga: QP QP-skyyy

vinijr: 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄me dejaron

judebellingham: restttt bro😘

ynperez: ur so unserious

judebellingham: thx

user11: isn’t yn in france rn??

user12: who is yn??

user13: she’s florentino pérez’s granddaughter, he’s the president of real madrid 😭

liked by judebellingham, aurelientchm, and 723,938 others!

ynperez: when bae ate the last bite of your chocolate almond croissant

bsfuser: u look so sad

ynperez: nothing to smile about in my life

user14: BAE????

user15: omg she’s not in her single era anymore

user16: 100% believe she’s dating a real madrid player

aurelientchm: how many bites did he take

ynperez: one too many

ynperez: and one too many sips of my matcha latte 💔💔

judebellingham: sounds delicious 😁

ynperez: yeah yeah 😒

user17: can you blame her?? jude and aurelien are on that team i’d want them too if my father was the president of the biggest club!

user18: real

liked by ynperez, vinijr, and 2,985,034 others!

judebellingham: new found love for chocolate almond croissants

user19: it’s illegal to be this fine

user20: damn

user21: call me delusional but didn’t yn pérez talk about her ‘bae’ eating her chocolate almond croissant & they seemed to be in france together

user22: delusional

vinijr: wonder what else you love 😂🤣

judebellingham: hey man, chillll🤫

ynperez: u should try matcha lattes i heard they’re good

judebellingham: i’m a fan of them icl

user23: no way jude isn’t dating yn pérez

user24: tryna get on presi’s good side like presi didn’t speak english for him at his presentation 😭

liked by judebellingham, camavinga, and 940,038 others!

ynperez: bf always taking pics of me mid complaining should i dump

user25: yn so cute😭

user26: THE SECOND PIC LMFAO

user27: dump him u can do better (me)

judebellingham: I CANT HELP IT THAT YOU LOOK CUTE WHILE COMPLAINING??

ynperez: ur so dumb ur lucky ur cute

judebellingham: oopsies

user28: JUDES COMMENT IM SCREAMING

user29: i knew those twitter threads were right

camavinga: it only took so long for jude to explode

vinijr: to be fair u always complain

ynperez: i helped sign him he should be grateful for me!

liked by judebellingham, vinijr, and 1,482,038 others!

ynperez: ruined my soft launch but it’s okay, mi novio is tan lindo y lo quiero 🤍 [my boyfriend is so cute and i love him]

tagged; judebellingham

judebellingham: i said i’m sorry😔

ynperez: it’s ok pumpkin

vinijr: just so you know he giggled

judebellingham: i don’t giggle idk what u mean

judebellingham: i love you🤍

ynperez: i love you 🤍🤍

user30: I KNEW IT

user31: it couple

user32: now we know why jude signed for real madrid

yourbsf: finally u posted him, such cuties 🥹

ynperez: i wanted a cute soft launch but this will do😔😔

user33: she calls him pumpkin that’s so adorable

user34: idk if i want him or her

user35: anyone see vini’s comment 😭

liked by ynperez, camavinga, and 3,028,937 others!

judebellingham: prettiest girl ever, te quiero, mi flor 🌹🤍 [i love you, my flower]

tagged; ynperez

ynperez: AWHH U SPOKE SPANISH TO ME YOU LOVE ME🥹🥹🥹🥹

judebellingham: what can i say, i have vw the best teacher!

ynperez: te quiero muchísimo mi querido [i love you very much, my dear]

judebellingham: te quiero siempre [i love you always]

user36: 50% of me is crying but the other 50% is so excited

user37: him speaking in spanish for her?? that’s so cute stop

camavinga: he asked me 20 times to make sure he was saying it right btw

judebellingham: mate, don’t expose me like this 😕😕😕😕

user38: camavinga 😭

user39: wanna know how presi feels

ynperez: papa pérez is happy that his granddaughter is happy 😁

user40: i’d sign for real madrid too if that means yn perez would be my gf

#football imagines #football scenarios #footballer x reader #football one shot #footballer x y/n #football smau #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine

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tastesousweet · 1 month

Text

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (viii) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5 p6 p7

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : the triplets' birthday party is a perfect place for flirting, tension, and... well, matt and y/n's forte.

warnings : use of alcohol, weed and smut ( just a lil flithy icl ), beware that the word count on this ho is crazy - meaning i did not proofread!

mickey speaks : this took a MINUTE to get out im sawrryyyy. i tried to fit everything into one part and ended up rewriting almost the entire part last minute (which is most of the reason why this is very delayed), sooo hope you love??? bc i dont lmfao also the triplets r a couple yrs older in this (turning 23)

THIS IS PART EIGHT GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST!!!

"JESUS, matt. can you take this seriously, please?" chris scoffs, taking the dry-erase marker cap from its awkward spot between his teeth.

matt's not one to continue adding his opinion knowing it won't be listened to. he prefers to leave the impossible-to-get-a-word-in debating to nick and chris who have no problem yelling over each other to the point that they don't even know what the issue ever was.

so he's found comfort in sitting at the dining room table with his eyes firmly closed and arms used as a pillow for his head, leaving nothing but a dollop of his hair to be shown, or as he told chris "attempting to find peace for myself while living with you chaotic fucks."

"what could you possibly want from me?" matt asks without moving from his face down position, voice muffled and strained.

"i want you to fight for your opinion! don't you care about what we do for our birthday?!" chris stresses while nick rolls his eyes and falls into a bored stance, leaning against the dark marble counter.

matt finally raises his head causing his face to scrunch up and eyes to squint due to the sudden and bright change in lighting, "no? i actually don't give a shit, chris."

chris first feels the instigator within him sighing in defeat only for his pride to take center. he figures if nick has practically given up and matt cares so little, that gives him all of the creative action for birthday plans. exactly what he wanted.

his lips form a tight line to hide his satisfaction as he shakes his head slowly, unevenly wiping his hand across the magnetic white board (that he used to write the many ideas thrown around in his head, mistakenly thinking a visual would narrow things down for him and nick). “‘kay. then i’m getting nate to help plan us a house party and it'll be fucking perfect. because i care.”

౨ৎ

you've never been so grateful of your front door's placement this close to the kitchen. but carrying three cake boxes and a tote bag the size of your torso, desperately needing to put them down after traveling up three flights of stairs, will surely be the task that brings that gratitude out of you.

though when you arrive, your scrunched eyebrows and pouted lips are an apparent contrast to the enthusiastic vibe of your kitchen- with andrea moving her hips to the lines of spanish dancing in the air, waiting patiently for the sizzling indication of her fried egg's tenderness, and the use of pink lemonade-colored towels or handles on utensils (that made you and andrea way too happy during one of your first target runs as roommates) scattered around.

drea finally notices you when your metal keychain clanks against the countertop, "y/n!" her excitement slightly dulls with her widened eyes when she gets a better view of your face, turning the stove off and coming closer to hug you. "hi, good morning-ish. are you feeling okay? ...or, like, sad?" you silently accept her gesture and tuck your head in her neck while she caresses your hair with a sigh, "or both at the same time...?"

your response is a breathy sigh and pause before the words tumble out, "m'fine, i think. just overestimated myself a little with staying up so late." you remove your head from her neck and move backwards to lean against the countertop, fanning your hands to create a much needed breeze, "and i'm so hot, it's making me feel gross."

andrea peers into the clear plastic cutout on top of one of the boxes, "at least the cakes look nice."

a week ago you set your mind on gifting the triplets their own cakes for their birthday (thinking that sharing a day was already enough, no way would you want them to have to share and agree on only one cake). you easily gathered their cake preferences by sneaking it into any random conversations you'd have with each of them.

and after a week of planning and preparing, was it so bad if you wanted a fun night in with your roomie? andrea warned you several times to go to bed considering you'd be up at 5:30 the next morning, but you insisted that you'd be fine and asked her to help you clear the rest of the box-wine in the fridge.

you could tell matt was a little irritated that you chose rewatching episodes of a sitcom and "cheap ass box-wine" over sex with him (of course throwing the fact that his birthday would be arriving in only a few hours right in your face) but you pioneered and assured him that you'll make time for him the next day, while also sweetly reminding him that you too have a life outside of this exchange.

at midnight you sent the triplets a group message to congratulate. and a few minutes later you left andrea on the couch for your room, sending matt a birthday text of his own (because you did feel the tiniest bit guilty for rejecting him earlier) paired with a picture with your shirt lifted, hem tucked behind your teeth, and your boobs sat in a sheer bra with decorative white trimming and a bow in the center.

he didn't respond for almost an hour and you tried to not feel embarrassed or overthink his reaction at all.

you couldn't stand the giddiness that came over you (you'd blame it on being the slightest bit tipsy) when you finally got into bed to find his response gentle, in his own matt-kind-of-way, with your image loved and a grayed bubble text reading: "Very pretty, thank you"

"thanks, drea. they were a bitch to make." water drowns out your voice as you start to wash your hands in the deep sink. you run your soapy fingers over a small cut you got when dealing with an irritating cardboard box earlier, finding the stinging of the hot water a wonderful kind of bitter that further plays into your foul mood.

"mmm... i'm sure. but it's not like you can even tell. they almost look store-bought," she attempts to flatter you, turning her head from the packaged desserts to offer a smile.

when you're sweet you're the most ripe, juicy peach, eveyone knows this. but god, when you're feeling down you really are the most cranky, green apple that could force a pucker onto even the most undaunted. your face is dragged of any aloofness or sunshine with your dry response as she turns to resume her breakfast, "uh huh. you don't have to coddle me. i'll get over myself soon, i promise." you dry your hands.

andrea would argue she's not coddling only looking out for your well being- because she wants to and knows if she were neglecting her needs you'd be right on her ass as well, "okay...and did you eat?"

"just like, a bagel before i left," you open the fridge and let the door hang open as you walk across the kitchen to grab the cake boxes and set them inside. you make sure to mind your feet, noticing figaro nosily has his furry face lifted to sniff into the side door.

she strings some sarcasm into her sentiment, "oh yum." she pauses, letting the sizzle of the egg and (now faint) music linger in the air before she speaks again, "how about you go take a shower or do something that'll make you feel a little better?"

"you know i would but being around my favorite roommate is already making me feel sooo much better!" you deliver the dry joke with a smile and pick up figaro when you shut the fridge door with an accidental slam.

she turns to look at you over her shoulder as she grabs two glass plates for the both of you, scolding you like a mother (as she tended to transform into at times like this due to her essentially parenting her younger siblings) "y/n, you're only fighting yourself, go ahead now."

౨ৎ

matt can hear chris' voice only grow louder and pound against the hallway walls but assumes he is heading anywhere but the space that matt's in, deciding to continue brushing his teeth instead.

he'd only be so lucky on his birthday.

"but yeah-" chris interrupts himself to knock and barely wait for an answer before he walks into matt's sleek bathroom. "matt's here!" his phone is carelessly thrown in front of matt's face (with a frothing mouth and irritated eyes) before he has truly registered anything that has happened.

he truly wants to roll his eyes infinitely but when he sees his mother is the one on the phone, his grumpy front is quickly wilted and a glimmer kisses his spirit in a way only she could produce.

it's clear she hadn't expected matt to be in the middle of something as personal as brushing his teeth when she first sees him, "oh, hi matt!" she understands him well enough to know he absolutely hates this (this being chris unnecessarily close to him as he hunches over to keep matt's face in the camera) so she attempts to amuse him, "wow, you're really showing your age now, aren't you? just looking so put together and nice." she laughs to herself as matt tries to not smile whilst brushing, holding his index finger up to indicate that he would address her with words in only a moment.

"chris, honey, why'd you bring me to your brother when he's busy, anyway?! now we're just watchin' him brush his teeth and the angles you're givin' me are so awkward," she emphasizes her sentence as it goes on.

chris turns the phone back to himself, "because you told me to show him?!"

"no, i said 'where's matt?'" she corrects him in jest.

"okay, so am i incorrect in saying that there was an implication-?"

matt dries his face with a towel and grabs the phone scolding chris, "hey we get it, smartass-" he turns to look at her again with a smile, "sorry mom."

"mhm," she dismisses, "when's this party of yours starting?"

"soon i think," matt moves around chris to exit the bathroom, leaving chris (literally) in the dark.

"okay and how's your birthday been so far?" he smiles knowing how excited she's always been about these things.

"good, i don't feel any different. just doin' the same stuff, except today there's way more people sending me texts and pretending the care about me." matt places the phone against a bowl full of chips in the kitchen, waving when he notices chris followed him.

"get down here nick, mom's on the phone!" chris yells, coming into frame and leaning on the counter. "jeez, matt's masochism can't give any of us a break even on days literally made for our happiness. you hearin' this kid ma?"

matt shakes his head, pointing to chris with his handful of chips, "spell masochism."

chris' eyes pinch and before their mother or chris himself reply, nick is running over to them with a smile and yell of "im heree!!"

she's has the much-expected motherly urge to cry seeing her three sons (whom she rarely sees anymore) all in the same frame, "aw, hi nicky! just look at you boys...so sweet."

it only takes another second before she's crumbling in tears. their smiles drop as chris grabs his phone. they all begin spilling out the most comforting phrases they know to cheer her up.

౨ৎ

"okay people! cake is coming through! everyone move. move, move...precious cargo right here and your ass is in the way!" asha yells and shines her phone's flashlight into the faces in the crowded living room as she ushers the girls to the kitchen.

she earns a few glares that she happily dishes back and a few mumbles of "bitch" once she's walked past that has remi "accidentally" stepping on a certain people's shoes while following asha's lead.

the modern open kitchen hosts plenty of drinks and snacks as well as a worried nathan, who's shirt is barely on his torso from the amount of buttons he's undone since stepping foot in the wild space. "oh thank god the cake's are here," he sighs with a throw of his head before frantically moving a platter of chips and guac (that someone was actively eating from) and a few six packs from the island to the opposite counter, encouraging the girls to place them down with an awkward nod of his head and harsh blink of his eyes.

asha holds back a laugh at nate's odd vibe as she moves next to him, nudging his shoulder, "what's wrong with you?"

"nothing," his head whips to look at her, "well, i mean, think 'm just nervous." he starts slow but it seems he needed someone to finally prompt him to share such a frustrated rant, "like- chris comes to me and asks me to throw him the best party. yet he doesn't give me shit to work with besides his home to host it in-" he breathes, "and 'm feelin' all the pressure of planning a party right now but, you know, i just need things to go smooth and then i'll be fine..." he runs a hand through his hair, "you ladies don't worry about me." he fakes a smile and gives a small wave of his wrist to show just how "fine" he is.

coinciding with nate's rant, you've began to pour a hefty amount of vodka and lemon juice (you absolutely scoured the fridge for) into a large glass. you hand it off to andrea with a pleading "mix" as you lick the remaining lemon juice from your thumb and open cabinets to search for shot glasses.

you line up a multitude of shot glasses with various cities labeled on them as andrea pours the mixture in carefully. you immediately bring one up to nathan, "lemon drop?"

"yes, please. no way your a fucking bartender and baker?" nate's eyes widen as he receives the small glass.

"no, definitely not. just live with a girl whois always making her own drinks at home," you smile and grab your own glass as the rest of the girls follow suit.

"i need this right now," remi starts, "let's cheers to drea's DIY shit and nathan making it through the rest of the night!" she woops and the group all let out various chuckles.

"a-fuckin'-men!" nate leans to clink the small glasses softly before taking the shot quickly. he barely recovers from the shot before he's pouring more vodka into his glass and taking a second.

you get the best view of chris turning the corner and seeing you all (his reaction is more specifically for andrea) have arrived. his jaw hangs dramatically as he walks over but quickly turns to a big smile when the group all start to sing happy birthday to him. "stop it! stop it!" he jokes and begins to give out hugs and thank each of you for coming. he stops and squeezes you extra tight, bringing up the cakes sat nearby, "i know that bakery anywhere. thank you for my cake."

"of course, i had to," you smile.

"no seriously, you're fuckin' awesome, girl." you can tell he's already a little buzzed from the look in his eyes but you also know he's almost more truthful than ever when drunk.

you notice that when he leaves you to finally greet your roommate, it's very clear he's purposely left andrea last to ensure there would be no rush on his interaction.

the rest of the group leave them to their own world for a moment; as the two hug chris gives her a soft kiss on her forehead, whispering "hi, mi cariña (my darling)" an inside joke between the two of them as chris' struggle with speaking spanish never fails to make andrea laugh.

౨ৎ

"okay, okay, i'll do it," matt finally gives in, lifting himself off of the black couch with people piled on top of it. he hands his drink over to elijah smoothly and begins to playfully rub his hands together.

"'hold my beer' headass," elijah jokes placing the cup off on a side table next to him. matt stops any movement, turning his torso to look back at the boy and start to laugh while holding both middle fingers up.

"matt," erin taps him with the side of her arm twice to get his attention again, handing him the second wii remote in her hands. the screen appears extra bright in contrast to the dimness of the room which causes matt to wonder how the fuck anyone has managed to play just dance in this space without getting a sudden head rush or worse.

"okay, let's do timber because it's classic," she suggests.

"let's not," matt opposes, his hand covering his mouth to hide a grin before running his cursor over the other choices.

erin looks over to him with a blank expression, "i mean i don't care that much you can-"

"'m joking, we'll do timber," matt looks from her to the colorful screen to find the song once more.

when he notices she's stiil looking over at him with an unreadable expression, matt smiles big attempting to not laugh, causing his already-slim eyes to pinch a little extra as he turns to her, "hey e, the screen's right up there, you won't be getting much direction from starin' at me-" he breaks into obnoxious laughter mid-way through his sentence which earns him a small smack on the arm.

erin laughs a little now, "would you stop it? just click 'a' on your fucking remote."

he does as she says and looks to her as the screen loads, "thereee we go, you can cool down now, sweetheart."

as the two dance both matt and his friends make one-off comments and jokes about the many times matt almost fell (and would make sure to blame it on the rug or his shoes). they seem to be having such a great time that you don't know if you only being there for the final few lines of the song, watching erin ride matt's back as they spin in circles laughing, is fortunate or unfortunate.

the claps and whistles are wild when the two finish with a bow, the crowd around them only getting louder when matt teases that he's so hot he might have to take off his shirt, lifting it slightly then putting it back down and calling them pervs. you only shake your head and bite back a smile, hating how fucking charming he is when he allows himself to be completely lost in a good time.

matt would say you snuck onto the sectional couch- because a minute ago you weren't there and now here you are talking elijah's ear off and taking repeated hits of his blunt.

but you wouldn't say you snuck into his area, rather walked in a manner in which you'd be out of his and erin's way- of course not taking away from the birthday boy and his...good friend. so you're a bit surprised he slumps on the couch next to you and not in his original spot on the opposite side of eli, "sunnnyy," he huffs and leans his head back against the couch, "when'd you get here, huh?"

you turn to look at him and he smiles at you then looks up to the ceiling, "think an hour ago? maybe?" you hand him the blunt.

"cool, cool, cool..." matt repeats cutting himself off by placing it in his mouth. he's dressed so stylish and attractive you can't help but scan over him with your eyes; his jersey-style shirt showing off his armfuls of tattoos, baggy jeans, car keys hanging on a cheetah print clip attached to his belt loop, shoes that look straight out of the box, a matching hat that you honestly wish he'd take off, and his signature silver jewelry brightening his attributes in the otherwise dark room.

he makes the slightest "tsss" sound when breathing in the drug before speaking with smoke plummeting from his mouth, "you should dance next," he brings it back to his mouth for a final hit.

"mmm maybe...if lucas is up for it," you play with the metal can of a wine cooler that you hold on your bare knee as matt leans over you to hand an occupied eli his blunt back, his laugh trails smoke out of his mouth and into your face as he slouches back next to you.

"forgot you're fuckin, hilarious! holy shit." his hand makes its way up his own shirt to rest on his stomach as he giggles.

a smile grows on your face, "no seriously is he here?" you lift yourself up a little and pretend to look for the familiar face.

"stop that." matt chuckles and tugs your wrist gently. you almost get nervous this time when you look him in the eyes. when he's drunk, matt is so carefree and giggly in a way you rarely get to see. and now you’re starting to notice how the poor lighting makes his features appear arched and his face look carved into, yet the jagged becomes soft and fuzzy whenever the gumdrop-colored lights of the wii game hit his face with the beat of the song. he notices your staring and lets go of your wrist, "what's up?"

"nothing."

"excuse me everyone! i would like to give a speech! hello, i am giving a speechhh! everyone shut up, please!" nick projects his voice into the microphone- he stole from the karaoke machine -while standing on a dining room chair.

as people start to calm down nick speaks, "right, so, it's my fuckin' birthday!” he raises his arms and dances his fingers before pointing out matt, “and it's matt's fuckin' birthday, right over there! let's get some flashlights pointing over to my brother please!" matt’s face flushes as he covers his eyes from the sudden bright lights. you squint your own eyes from next to him and move closer to eli to avoid the flashes.

"and it's chris' fuckin' birthday..." nick looks around, "i couldn't tell you where exactly he is, just know that he is also here tonight!” the crowd roars, “anyway... i'm so- so happy to have you all with us tonight to celebrate. we turn twenty fucking three and... that feels so old saying it out loud. holy shit." nick cringes obnoxiously, slurring his next few words, "but i love my two best friends in the whole world: chris and matt, i wouldn’t wish to share a birthday with anyone else… and i love all of you thank you again. oh! and shout out nathan for holding this shit down! if you see nathan give him something... i don't know- money? a kiss? a drink? fuck if i know." as nick speaks cameron nudges him with a shot glass which he finally acknowledges, "and apparently this is a toast now so, you know, here's to getting older and having the most fun forever!" he raises the glass in the air and drinks it without further thought, inviting everyone to do the same while cheering and applauding him in excitement.

you raise your wine cooler and let out many cheers along with the rest, but of course matt ridicules you a little in jest, "really? you sit here and 'woo' while i'm going blind?!" he’s still wiping at his eyes, dealing with the aftermath of bright lights shining in his eyes; his vision tainted with faint blue and red splotches only for a second. you lean closer to him, attempting to see his eyes better while uncontrollably laughing.

"are you crying?!"

matt thinks you look really pretty even when you're quite literally pointing and laughing in his face. you move his hands away from his face and he widens his eyes dramatically, "look, no 'm not!” you shake your head in response, “does really it look like it?"

you notice his bottom eyelashes are slightly clumped and you move your hand closer, placing your thumb under his eye, "baby, that's damp!" you giggle and pull his hand close, using your thumb to draw a wet line across his tattooed wrist to prove your point.

he drags out his first word, "alrighttt. whatever! you got me, sweet girl. ‘cause god forbid i have the ability to cry?!” pulling away from you with a smile as he dries his eyes by rubbing them gently.

matt excuses himself with a quick "gonna go grab another drink or somethin'" before he does something irrational like kiss you in front of all these fucking people.

౨ৎ

you carefully open each of the packaged cakes, each revealing the boys' full names written in cursive with the uniquely styled and colored buttercream frosting you made that very morning. you used the same shades to make the puffed frosting border of the cakes, for an easy, soft garnish. remi follows behind you, lighting candles on the cakes as you go.

there's a chaos that comes with trying to gather this many (drunk) people in one area and capture their attention long enough to sing then cut cakes. it doesn’t help that the hosts are at their most unserious themselves; matt and nick both snickering and making jokes while holding onto each other while chris talks to one of his friends off to the side with his obnoxiously loud voice without regard for anyone around him.

“okay, people we’re singing!” nathan attempts to yell over the loudness of the crowded room. you and remi are then in the position of getting the attention of the birthday boys who can’t focus on the task at hand, leaving you both to snap your fingers and call them as if you were attempting to take photos of a stubborn baby.

you truly wish it didn’t irk you so terribly but you can’t help your annoyance when matt looks over to erin after she shouts from next to you, “matt, can you pay attention? your cake’s ready,” and he listens, moving nick off of him with a shoulder nudge and laugh as he approaches the row of cakes.

you recover quickly with a smile once both matt and nick’s eyes widen and mouths hang open in awe of your hard work, “s’perfect,” matt whispers to himself, now adjusting his hat to fit backwards.

“oh my god, the wax got in my cake! what the fuck,” nick whines and that cues drea to tug chris’ arm softly and urge him with a hushed, “chris ven aquí (come here)!”

and he's is down so terribly that he moves to where she wants him immediately.

chris is a known sap, especially when wasted, so he’s stood fighting the urge to cry when taking in the scene in front of him: his brothers and friends gathered together to celebrate their twenty three years of life together.

he tucks his lip into his mouth and looks down at the burning flame, slowly smiling when everyone around them begin to sing a rendition of happy birthday with all the charmingly bad high notes and run on “you”s but not forgetting to crunch all three names into a single line.

midway through the song, chris leans to hug matt in comfort while sneaking a reach into matt’s back pocket to grab the slim joint he just knew would be there. he grins to himself, “sweet! free j and free light,” placing it into his mouth as he leans over his cake to spark the joint hanging in his mouth with as much precision as possible. andrea shakes her head in confusion while filming on her phone beside to you.

“dude,” matt lets out a breathy laugh while waving his hand to clear the atmosphere of the potent smoke. sudden applause recognizing the end of the song and leading the three to blow out their candles.

matt gave up on birthday wishes a while into his teen years and nothing changes this year; he blows his candles out and claps along with the crowd before accepting his joint from chris for a few puffs of celebration.

you watch in amusement as nathan distracts the boys with shots to get them away from the cakes as andrea begins to cut. except no shot could beat the view of andrea bent over the counter like she is now, so chris is practically on top of drea with annoying whines of “i wanna see,” when she asks him to be careful and wait a second.

you, however, are actively searching for the spiked punch that elijah recommended when you run into erin and matt talking. they both look to you with different expressions as you squeeze yourself by them to get to the punch bowl.

you remind yourself that erin is your friend, not your enemy. nor your competition. meaning you also have to remind yourself that matt is some guy you fuck around with, not your boyfriend.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in while grabbing a plastic cup and using a small ladle to pour the peach colored liquid for yourself. instead of flat-out staring at the two, you take turns looking from them to your cup. you watch as they pose for a picture; erin taking his hat to place on her own head and matt smiling next to her. and another with her kissing his cheek as he laughs.

it’s upsetting- no, humiliating to you. and how especially humiliating that your first thought is whether he’ll dismiss you for erin when you ask him to fuck you later tonight? you blame the weed for getting you so worked up over minutiae interactions.

you’re brought out of your daze in the most humbling of ways: a sudden splash hits your bare foot and covers your black kitten heels in the sticky juice. “fuck,” you groan and place the ladle back into the punch bowl, taking a large sip of your overflowing drink as you look down at the puddle of pink you’re standing in.

you find a towel laying nearby and lower yourself to fumble and wipe your shoe.

“damn y/n, you like my punch that much?” a voice asks from next to you.

you look up and see lucas smiling down at you, “you made it?” you ask genuinely as he helps you rise to standing again.

“no,” he smiles and you roll your eyes, “but im wondering how you managed to spill any with this itty bitty fucking ladle?” he jokes, lifting the ladle and watching it pour the small bit of juice it managed to gather back into the bowl.

“i just wasn’t paying attention,” you laugh and sip your drink again.

“mhm…why’s that?” he squints his eyes down at you.

you tap two of your french tip fingernails against your skull, “so much is happening up here.”

“like what?”

“i don’t knowww,” you smirk and look away to take another sip of your drink.

“well, i know you look sexy as fuck in this dress right now. look at you,” he wets his lips and offers his hand to you with a grin, showing off a few of his shining tooth gems.

you try to maintain your composure and not smile too big but it’s a challenge when he playfully gets you to spin slowly for him and show off the tiny strapless dress you have on as he “oouu”s and whistles to hype you up.

“mm, you like that?” you look up at him, blinking slowly.

he nods and chuckles, “you know damn well-” looking off to the side then gaining your eye contact once more as he wipes over his mouth with his hand, glancing over your body, “‘course i do.”

"good. we should dance then," you guide him to the living room with his hand still in yours.

౨ৎ

you hate to be the bitch on her phone at a party but you can’t stop staring at it. you tap past the story then go back to look again. you even rewatch it in the perspective of someone who hadn’t been there to see the photo taken to see how it would be perceived. hurting your own feelings knowing they could very well assume matt to be erin’s boyfriend with how close they’re standing and her lips against his face.

it’s very dizzying and ruining your high quite a bit, especially paired with andrea who continues to look to you to celebrate after every ping pong ball she throws whether she makes it or not.

you go to rewatch the story once more, only this time a text from matt slides down on your screen to interrupt your sulking:

MATT

Hey come here

Y/N

where???

MATT

Outside youll see me

you let andrea know you’re going outside for air before walking over to a glass sliding door to let yourself out.

you see matt holding a stick while looking down at his phone, fire pit radiating next to him, a mass of people surrounding it.

your arms wrap and hold onto your shoulders as you walk closer, feeling the breeze rack through your body despite the internal heat from the many drinks you've had over the course of the night.

as you approach, asha gets up from her spot on nick's lap to give you a hug, "y/n! hiii." she pulls away and her hands remain on your shoulders, "your cake was so delicious, i tried a bite of each."

"oh good, 'm glad." you smile.

she feels your hands, "are you cold, babe? come sit." she guides you over to the group of people sat around the fire. "you can take my spot, i'll stand," she insists and nick agrees smiling kindly.

you interrupt matt's texting to figure out why he wanted you here, cupping your hands to shout, "matt!" across the lawn from your spot atop nick.

he looks over and quips his head while moving closer, "hey, was just wonderin' if you'd try my s'more? nick thinks he makes them best." he smiles but you can't help but feel that there's a catch to this.

"always gotta prove someone wrong. yeah, i'll do it." you agree as he moves to grab the snack he'd apparently already prepared.

nick mutters, "don't let him bully you into liking his, and don't forget who's acting as your chair currently!" from behind you as you giggle into the bite that matt gives you, holding the smore in his hand up to your mouth.

you chew slowly and matt watches, chatter and crinkles of the fire filling the heated space. you finally nod your head and matt smirks, "so good, right?" matt asks and brings his hand to hold your face and wipe around the corner of your mouth, looking to his right with a smile then back to you.

you feel awkwardly and unnaturally sensual, moving his hand away from your face and searching for what he's looked over to, catching the eye of lucas, standing with a group of guys lighting up near a fence. so that is the fucking catch.

you lick your lips of any remaining marshmallow and shake your head, annoyed, "i don't know, it tastes normal and graham cracker is fucking stale." you look up at him and his face is adorned with confusion on your change of heart.

you feel too fucking weird about this. you wish you couldn't believe that he'd use your feelings towards him for some weird shit like claiming you from lucas, but it's not surprising in the slightest; matt wants his cake yet he'll always want to eat it too.

"yeah, nick wins." you pat the side of nick's thigh to grab his attention and tell him the news, making him cheer and bring you into his chest for a small hug.

matt's lips form the smallest pucker as he watches you get up and walk towards the house without further conversation.

"bye, y/n!" asha yells.

౨ৎ

matt lays flat on his bed, staring up at the ceiling to try and organize his many thoughts when his door creaks slightly, allowing a roar of party chatter into his space before it shuts again.

he lifts only his head up to see erin stood with a small smile before letting himself fall back into his plush comforter, "hey, i got your shit in the first drawer over there." he points to a tall dresser across the room.

he listens to her shuffle around before finding a large bag of weed, coming close to him and placing a few folded bills in his front pocket slowly. she then moves so that she hovers over his dazed face, "thank you, are you sure you don't need anything else from me? it is your birthday..." she grins and runs a hand over his chest. he mimics her smile (intended in more of a mocking way than she takes it) and laughs softly.

"no, i'm good on that, e. you enjoy your doobies and shit," he continues to softly laugh, eyes crinkling at the sides before she thanks him again and gives him a small peck.

"happy birthday, matty!" she sings before closing the door to his room and heading straight to his bathroom next door to pee.

matt would say it hasn't even been four minutes since erin left him when you're stumbling into his room. he repeats his look up, only to soften a bit when he sees you make effort to move some of his shoes out of the walkway so that you don't trip, "hi, baby" he waves you over with his fingers and welcomes you as if you'll be staying for long, "lock that door for me." he figures if you came to see him after storming away like that at the fire pit you're either gonna spit your thoughts in his face or sit on his face, there's no in between.

"i found you," you smile and twist the smaller knob to lock the door from the rowdiness. you then make your way over to sit at the end of his bed and begin to fiddle with the straps on your tiny heels, "my feet have been achin' so bad," you look at him as you complain.

"mm, i'm sure."

when your feet are finally free from your shoes you place them on the ground and adjust yourself on the bed. you silently grimace seeing matt with his shoes remaining on his feet despite being on his bed.

he giggles when you begin to unlace them, "feel like a fuckin' princess."

you roll your eyes and begin to pull them off, "with the way you act you might as well be one."

"ouch? it's my birthday," he holds his heart while looking to you playfully.

you tilt your head and drop his second shoe right on the floor as you stare back at him, "oh, i know."

"right. what's wrong now?"

you run your hands along his legs as you inch up his body and hover yourself over his crotch, "nothing. everything's fine, right?" you adjust your hair away from your face.

"sure, uh huh," matt looks up at you and bites his lower lip while moving his hands to hold and squeeze your full thighs. he silently admires the way you fill that tiny dress and look down at him from this angle.

you look away for a moment then decide to put your full weight onto matt, muffled groan leaving his mouth. your lips curve up as you pull his bottom lip from his mouth with your thumb to replace it with your mouth, sucking and kissing it. your tongue runs over his lips a few times before matt takes hold of your head and pulls you impossibly closer to capture your mouth messily with his own.

the kiss is a filthy, drunken sight: noses meshing and colliding, tongues playing and licking, and moans escaping and ringing into the air desperately.

you pull away with a wet smack and whisper into his lips, "i've got another present for you..."

"mmm?" his eyes widen and he squeezes your neck gently, kissing you once more, "for real? like, more than this?!" his hand feathers over your ass, insinuating the way you're sat on top of him right now could easily be his best gift tonight.

"yes," you breathe then begin to giggle, "you're gonna lose your shit, i think."

his mind can think of a lot of things you could do to make him lose his shit, "damn, okay. well, show me. you got my stomach dancin' and shit." he holds you so that you stay put as he lifts himself to rest on his elbows.

your smile bites over your bottom lip now as you raise yourself from his lap once more. your nail taps against your upper thigh as you look down at him, "kiss, please?"

he doesn't have to move much, as your leg is already so close to his face. he keeps heated eye contact with you when he kisses and marks the skin you'd point to, causing small mindless noises to fall from your mouth as you play with his soft hair (that you unfortunately hadn't seen much of tonight).

when he's finished he looks up to you with his red, puffy eyes and wet lips as you thank him, "now...pay attention." you gently demand as you slowly move your dress up your body.

matt studies your movement in awe, eventually catching your gift in his line of sight. he knows you must think you're so sneaky when you only show a glimmer of your lacy white panties, with a cursive red "M" embroidered near the waistband, before quickly pushing your dress back down with an uncontrollable laugh.

matt's face morphs to express a million different emotions and he doesn't realize how loud his voice is when he speaks, "what the fuck?!" he looks up at you- with your head thrown back laughing -then back to your covered lower half. "what was that? hold the fuck on," you body is so loose with laughter that he easily grabs you and flips you onto the bed so that you lay underneath him, still squirming in your own giggles (yelling a few "matt!"s or "matt wait i can't breathe!"s).

his face is full of amusement when he firmly lifts your dress to get a better look at what you've done for him. "oh my god, 'm gonna pass the fuck out. look at you, sunny!" he rubs his eyes dramatically and shakes his head. "no, you're so bad."

"you like it?" you ask, licking over your lips and reaching your hands up to trace the small hairs prickling on matt's jawline.

"course i do, the fuck type of question is that?!" he turns his face to kiss your inner palm before bending closer to kiss your lips once more.

"happy birthday, matt." you say in between kisses, "there's somethin' else if you look a little more."

"really?" he immediately splits from you and looks to your panties once more, running his hands over your lower stomach. the cherry red joint laying against your hip and tucked into your underwear catches him by surprise but the stoner in him nearly cums on the spot.

he removes it from it's place and kisses you mumbling a reminder that "you're so hot" and "the marijuana bug must've bit you real bad" before he gets up to store it in his bedside table, patting the closed drawer and joking, "for when i miss you."

he stands above you for an extra second to shake his head slowly with a tut, but when you whine "c'mereee," he's hushing you and removing his shirt before crawling back on top of you.

your hands run across every inch of his warm torso as you both sloppily kiss, and matt's own hands curiously make their way into your underwear for a proper feel of your wet core.

he allows you to desperately grind your hips against his hand until he eventually decides he needs to taste you. he lowers himself to face your clothed pussy, tracing the "M" with a finger as he places his tongue flat against you and places pressure on your most sensitive area.

his finger once tracing, now moves to pull the tiny piece of fabric off of you. he looks into your eyes as he easily stuffs the cloth in his back pocket, mumbling "mine now" while moving his fingers through your sticky folds.

you cry out when he dips two fingers into you teasingly, over and over again, and another series of moans leaves your mouth when he begins to lick over your clit eagerly.

matt continues his efforts, spitting on your clit a few times to watch it drip down to where his fingers harshly move inside of you; his movements quickening while he watches.

and just before you cum you dumbly warn him, which makes him stop entirely. "no, matt. stop, please come back. please."

"shhh. don't start that shit, you'll cum twice on your day..." he unbuttons his pants, "plus, you know it feels so much better when you wait and have to chase it a few times." he smirks and nudges your clit with his finger once more making you breathe out a moan and close your legs around his hand.

he pulls away from you to finish undressing before laying back dowm in his tight boxers, "come take care of me, sunny. i need you."

"hm...and i needed you too..." you lift yourself up and pout as you climb off the bed and get closer to where he lies, turning and moving your hair away for your back, "unzip me, please?"

he does just as you say and watches you finish removing your dress in only one movement. when you climb on top of him he now gets a view of your tits directly in his face that has him humming and immediately feeling you up.

he kisses and licks the skin while you scratch at his scalp in the most sensual way. you reach behind you to dip your hand into his boxers, immediately coming in contact with his sensitive and slightly sticky tip. he tilts his head back with a groan as soon as you begin to stroke him beneath the fabric making a sinical smile form on your face.

you push the boxers further down his thighs to fully expose him as you bring your lips down to him again. his moans flow into your mouth when you repeatedly rush your movements then slowly circle his head.

eventually matt's eyebrows pinch in terribly tight and he grabs your hand, sighing, "god damn, baby. chill or i'll be cummin' before i'm inside you."

you roll your eyes playfully, "okay?" as you adjust yourself to align over his length, before sinking down on top of him.

"mmm, fuck." he encourages when you lift yourself and slam back down on top of him. you move his hands to hold your hips then spread your hands over his chest as you continue.

matt can't help but slap your ass a few times after discovering the way your muscles flutter around him so perfectly each time. but one smack in particular aids you to practically fall onto his chest whining, "matt i can't, please just-."

he immediately lifts your face to give him a much needed kiss before reaching to realign himself and hold onto you as he thrusts rhythmically into you.

moans sneak from your mouth and interrupt you from kissing and holding onto matt's neck, which only encourage matt until he's completely flustered and drilling into you sloppily.

matt can tell you're cumming by your all too and familiar broken moans. and once you harshly kiss him and ask him to let go in return he finally stills inside of you and groans into your soft shoulder.

a silence coats the room, leaving the overpowering music and talking of the party to linger through the air in a cloudy murmur.

matt keeps his arms around you while you recover from your high, staring at the ceiling of his faintly lit room in questionable thought.

and he assumes you must be doing the same; only he mistakes the wetness of your tears for his own sweat as you turn your head away from him to dissolve your embarrassingly shaky breaths.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

tag list is in the replies ily!!!!

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slaybestieslay946 · 2 months

Note

Your last uncle!percy fic was EVERYTHING and I was wondering if you could write another one in the same universe where reader and Luke go out on a date so Percy and annabeth babysit? And maybe more interaction with Percy and reader? Feel free to make it your own juts thanks so so much for your contribution to the Luke lovers with that last one you posted haha

Date Night

MASTERLIST

word count: 1000

pairing: luke castellan x posiedon!reader

warnings: none!

a/n: icl Luke is kinda a minor character in this one, and i chose to just have Percy in it coz i felt like it made more sense?? idk hope you enjoyed love u anon

“Ok, so, dinner’s in the fridge, as well as formula for Violet. James normally goes to bed at 8, but I told him he can stay up later if he wants.”

You explained, as you flitted around the kitchen with a list in one hand and a clutch in the other. Your brother followed after you with an attentive expression on his face.

Tonight was you and Luke’s first date night since Violet was born, and you had been looking forward to it for weeks. You’d spent the last two hours getting ready, and now it was just a matter of making sure everything was prepared for your favourite babysitter, Percy.

You stood at the door, peering down at the list while you husband sat on the stairs, tying his shoelaces.

“Honey, did I forget anything?”

“Hm, did you tell him about the thermostat?”

“Oh, shit yeah.” You turned to Percy, “The thermostat is broken, so if you need to turn on the radiators or anything you’ll have to do it by hand, but I mean, it’s summer so you shouldn’t need to.”

“Ok cool. Sounds good.”

“Alright. I think that’s everything. You have a good night, and call if you need anything or have any questions-!”

You were about to go on another spiel about caring for your youngest daughter's specific needs when your husband swept an arm around your waist and practically dragged you out of the apartment.

“Thanks man, see you at 11!” Luke shouted, giving Percy a quick thumbs up before shutting the door behind you both.

“Why’d you push me out!” You asked as you both began making your way down the stairs.

“Coz you need to trust your little brother and relax. He’s a good guy.”

“I know that.” You pouted, “But I also know that he can be a bit scatterbrained sometimes, the boy needs detailed instructions.”

“That’s exactly my point babe. He’s not a boy anymore.”

“God don’t remind me. It makes me feel old.”

“Sorry. You're not old. Now, stop stressing about Percy and enjoy the date night you incredible husband has so kindly planned out.”

You giggled lightly, rolling your eyes, but agreeing nonetheless.

The date went perfectly, and you were back by 10. When you walked inside the house, you were pleasantly surprised to see that it was still standing, and your son hadn’t managed to cause a mess while you were gone like he usually did.

Luke went up to check on Violet, meanwhile you made your way into the living room, where you could still hear the low hum of the TV in the background.

In the room, you could see your brother, and your son curled up on the sofa, both of them fast asleep, and snoring slightly. On the TV Cars were playing (James’ favourite), and on the table there were a few mostly empty bowls of snacks.

You laughed quietly, remembering the movie nights you and Percy had had all those years ago.

After you left Camp half blood to go to college, he’d come over to your house a few times during the school year, in which you’d have movie marathons, pillow fights, and intense mario kart competitions.

It’d always end the same, with the both of you passing out on the couch at 2 in the morning, cheeto dust covering your fingers and popcorn kernels all over the floor.

They were some of your favourite times with your half-brother, when you could forget the worry of getting killed by monsters or the like, and have fun with your only sibling.

“Hey, Perce.” You whispered, shaking him slightly. It didn’t take much to wake him, and soon his eyes were fluttering open.

“Oh, Y/N. You’re back already?”

“Yeah, it’s 11:30.”

“Really?!” He asked, loudly, and you quickly shushed him, pointing to the sleeping child beside him.

Percy slapped his hand over his mouth, mumbling apologies. You rolled your eyes at him, helping the man off the sofa and leading him out of the living room and towards the spare bedroom (aka Luke’s office).

“You can stay here tonight if you want? It’s pretty late.”

Your statement was confirmed by a loud yawn from Percy, to which he begrudgingly nodded.

You directed him to sit in the nearby armchair whilst you grabbed the sheets from the cupboard and began to make up the bed for him.

“How was James?”

“We had a great time. He’s a good kid y’know?”

“Yeah.”

“It reminds me of our old movie nights.” He said, his voice slightly wistful. He had always been so sentimental, just like you.

“Funny. I was thinking the same thing.”

“Do you remember that time we got snowed in?” He asked, laughing lightly at the memory.

“Of course! And the snow was so high the pizza delivery man had to climb in through the window!”

You both erupted into fits of giggles and you had to pause in your bed-making to finish laughing.

“I really appreciate everything you did for me, Y/N.” He declared suddenly, staring off into space.

“I didn’t do that much Perce. You give me too much credit.”

“No, I really mean it. You did your best to give me a normal childhood, and looked after me like I was your real brother.”

You frowned, “You are my real brother. Just like James is your real nephew. And I helped you because you were a good kid who deserved it. You earned the life you have now. We all did.”

He broke into a bright grin at that, standing up from the armchair to give you a big hug. You could still remember when he was so much smaller than you, just a kid. Now he was an adult, and taller than you (although that mop of curly hair gave him some extra height). Still, despite how tall he got, you were certain he’d always be your little brother.

“Thanks Y/N.”

“No problem kid.”

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #fanfic #pjo #writing #fluff #x readerfut #future au #domestic fluff

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dollidot · 2 months

Text

modern mizu hcs

solely based on my au and my concept of her !! I love my loser babygirl so much

she's REALLY tall. like 6'1 or something. this is sorta canon but I just would like to reinforce it because she is 80% leg and I love her for it.

her love language would be acts of service but she is VERY big on physical touch, bby is touchstarved af

she's a bassist but she also enjoys singing. she doesn't do it often but boy is she good.

adding to the above I also think she does really good at roars eg that one part from blessed be by spiritbox

REALLY likes the snapcube sonic dubs and quotes them regularly

swordfather has many pictures of 12-16 year old mizu in her emo phase and shows them off to anyone who visits home

she really likes tea but absolutely hates coffee.

she absolutely despises buying from big chain companies because she hates the rich and privileged white men who control society

cooks really well but almost never eats

when she does eat, she EATS. she'll go hungry for three days and then eat an entire fridge worth of food in two hours

she has to take supplements for everything imaginable and whoever's cooking has to sneak them into her meal like dogs with pills in peanut butter

she hates dogs. I feel like the only dogs she'd like would be malamutes, huskies, or german shepherds cause girl me too

really loves fish though. she spends all her time at the closest aquarium and everybody there knows her by name

owns SO many button up shirts. yk those multicoloured ones yeah she wears those, hawaiian shirts too

collects vinyls and cassette tapes and owns a walkman

drives a 1979 baby blue impala given to her by swordfather for her 18th birthday

she did the paintjob herself and is very proud

goes on really elaborate rants about sonic lore

collects sonic merch but especially likes merch of shadow, rouge and blaze because they're her favourites

has eyebrow piercings on both brows and snake bites

to add to the above she takes great care with her eyebrows, she shapes them regularly

she does not, however, have any other routine to do with her appearance. she washes her face and calls it a day

when she was about 16 she watched princess mononoke for the first time and has been an AVID studio ghibli fan since

writes poetry every so often, especially when she has feelings for somebody. her poems either sound like fall out boy lyrics or something written by a philosopher (same thing icl)

smells like expensive cologne and smoke from working with vehicles and shit

curses like a sailor. not a minute goes by where she isn't effing and jeffing all over the place

doesn't smoke except when she's REALLY drunk

absolutely hates parties. taigen being a frat boy she gets dragged to tons, in which she drinks herself into a coma and wakes up on akemi's couch the next day surprisingly not hungover

despite being quiet af she has a reputation on campus for being absolutely amazing at arguing with people who've either pissed her off or heard her yelling at taigen (a common occurrence)

got excluded from high school for a week as a sophomore because she tripped taigen down the stairwell and it ended in 5 kids being hurt not including taigen

#blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #bes #bes mizu #modern au #headcanons go brrrrr #loser mizu my beloved #mizu come home the kids miss you #modern mizu has my heart

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luckykiwiii101 · 5 months

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✰ STOP IDENTIFYING WITH “FAILURE”!!! ✰

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🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜🧡💜

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❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎

Stop accepting that you “failed” to enter the void state. Would a void master fail to enter/wake up in the void state?! Uhm…i think NOT!!

Every time you decide that you are going to enter the void state, and you don’t end up entering or waking up in it, you acknowledge that and you accept it?! BUT WHY!!! All of your persistence that you did to enter the void state, and when it comes to it and you end up “failing”, you start to reset your whole mind into a state of failure.

BUT FAILURE DOES NOT EXIST!!! If you do not accept that you failed, then you did not fail.

Stop resetting your mind into being someone who cannot enter the void after you “attempt” to.

Bloody hell, don’t even identify with the word “attempting” because it implies failure. Failure does not exist.

From now on, every time you wake up from your slumber, you woke up in the void. Because you always do. You always wake up in the void consciously.

From now on, everytime you affirm for the void, you enter instantly and effortlessly.

There is no “Ill try again tomorrow”. What do you mean “try”? Try what? That’s like saying “I’ll try to take a shit tomorrow.” You KNOW you are going to take a shit because you ALWAYS do. There’s no exception. You aren’t an exception. You aren’t a failure. You are a walking success.

You are chasing the void whilst running from it. How does that make sense my guy?!🤨

+ How can you even chase what’s inside you. Are you going to start running after your heart forcing it to pump blood in you?! Tf?! Ridiculous innit.

Now identify with success, because that is what you are.

You are a star, but there are millions of the stars in the sky that have the same ability as you. It is natural.

Now stop being like Pearl and trying to convince people that you are a star, and go convince yourself by proving it to yourself.

✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰

(Lmao can u tell i’m british from this post? Not ethnically british though. I don’t acc speak like that irl icl 💀 It’s just funny)

#void state #law of assumption #loa blog #loa tumblr #void #loassumption #loablr #manifestation #loa success #loa #void state tips #the void state #void concept

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sc0tters · 9 months

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Not Gone For Long | Quinn Hughes

summary: you broke up with Quinn two weeks ago, but what happens when you two run into each other at a bar?

request: yes/no

warnings: none.

word count: 1.63K

authors note: I have had this idea in my head for literal hours icl but since I came up with it I’ve been dying to get it written. This is also my first attempt at writing an imagine for an NHL player, so I hope you like it!

Never go to bed angry with each other.

That was the first rule that you and Quinn made when you got together and neither one ever believed that if it was broken it would soon bring the end of the relationship, but it did.

The two of you had spent two months fighting before you finally mustered up the courage to pull the plug on the relationship when he was on a two week road trip with the team.

And with that three years of a relationship were sent down the drain.

You never thought that leaving him would be easy. You knew that it would be tough on your heart as he was everywhere you looked, on billboards, the TVs at bars, even on the insides of your eyelids when you attempted to sleep.

Your best friends were your total support system during the last two months as they made sure that you never had more than a few seconds to think about the boy that you loved obviously not counting your time in your bedroom because that’s where he seemed to attack your mind.

The apartment you once dreamed of before Quinn was now the place you called home. It was a one bed place but it was all you needed as you settled back into the mundane life.

Unbeknownst to you Quinn had been a total wreck from the moment he walked back into the apartment to see it in a shell of its former self. If it wasn’t for his teammates he would have knocked on every door in Vancouver until he found you, but when the boys reminded him that you had left when he was gone for a reason it made him want to stay home instead.

Quinn wanted to be mad at you for leaving in the way that you did yet the only thing that replayed through his mind was how the last thing he said to you was “see you soon,” no kiss, not even a hug, he just walked out of the apartment. Leaving you by yourself for the next two weeks.

The moment Ellen learnt about the break up she went was on the next flight over on a mission to comfort her son. That night he cried so hard that his lungs ached and his throat burned.

It didn’t help that the Canucks had been through another subpar season, but his upset state wasn’t helping that as he hadn’t scored since you left. Sometimes he wondered if you still watched his games, each time that he’d skate onto the ice he’d search for your face in the crowd and each time he was left empty handed.

Somehow despite all this, your relationship didn’t actually end on bad terms, you two still loved each other and had truly learnt that absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

The fight that broke the camels back though now felt minuscule, if he didn’t want to come with you on your business trip to Paris you didn’t really care. You’d settle for those two weeks without him rather than the last two months, every day of the week.

Now it was present day and your friends managed to convince you to join them on a night out. It was going to be your first as a single woman. You had even managed to get a smile onto your face, not a fake forced smile but instead a real one.

Yet it felt like a balloon full of water burst above your head as you saw him.

Quinn had been dragged to the same bar by his teammates as they celebrated the fact that the season was over.

Your friend saw that you tensed up and as she followed your line of sight she was quick to apologise “we can go somewhere else if you would like?” She proposed not wanting you to have a bad night.

But as there were five of you in the group this was a moment you didn’t want to be selfish in “this bar is big enough for the two of us.” Your voice was soft as you shook your head not letting your eyes leave the boy as you stared more so in shock.

He looked like he had lost weight, hadn’t shaved so his facial hair was now growing out of control, the curls that you loved but he hated were now proudly sat on his head.

Quinn wished that he had seen his hairdresser though the second he saw you. He actually heard your best friends laugh first, it was funny how the sound irritated him.

When he thought he was dreaming or that his sleep deprived mind was playing tricks on him, he spun his head around locking eyes with you.

His cold beer glass masked the sweatiness of his hands as he chugged the last of the bland liquid before he got up “anyone else need a refill?” He watched as you walked off heading in the direction of the bar.

It was the perfect time to talk to you, yes he knew that it was selfish but part of him just hoped that you were as caught up by the breakup as he was.

So he made his way over to the bar, making sure to avoid the drunken men that walked into his path as he was desperate to never lose sight of your little green dress that he loved so much on you.

You thought he never noticed that when the told you he liked that dress on your first date you went out and bought it in seven other colours. But he did, Quinn noticed everything yet that original dress still remained his favourite.

The familiar sound of your acrylics tapping on the table sent shivers down his spine “hey,” his voice came out like a croak causing your eyes to go wide.

You stared at him through the corner of your eye knowing that if you faced him, it would have been over for you “hi.”

If you two hadn’t broken up his fingers would have been on your jaw forcing you to look at him “can you look at me?” He asked feeling the tears begin to well at his eyes “please?” The beg was enough to make your hearty break all over again.

You looked at him not caring that you makeup was now very much ruined as tears ran down your cheeks “I’m sorry,” you blurted out not knowing what else to say.

But it was also true, you did feel sorry about breaking up with him. You wished that you’d handled things better. Yes this was the best way to protect your heart but besides for that it was the worst possible option for every other thing.

Just like old times Quinn didn’t hesitate to comfort the girl as he wrapped his arms around her pulling her into a hug “I know,” he placed a kiss on your head ignoring how your tears were soaking his shirt.

The coldness of those tears hit him like a dose of reality, you left because the relationship had grown cold.

This was the first time he had hugged you since January, it was now April.

He never meant to stop putting in effort but one day it sort of started and he didn’t know how to stop it. And he was so stressed about hockey that he let the fights you two had fall into the back of his mind.

Whilst he had spent the last two months thinking you were the bad guy, he realised that it had been his fault all along.

That was almost the problem with the whole thing, you each blamed yourselves for putting the knife into the relationship.

Quinn swore that he had been doing it over time and you were just the one to give it the final push.

You finally got your breathing under control causing you to look up at him as your chin rested against the his chest “why are you here?” You asked not trying to be rude but you swore that if you were in his shoes even you wouldn’t want anything to do with yourself.

He let out a soft laugh as he dragged his thumb against your cheek “missed you,” he confessed as he watch the pad of his finger clean in the smudge of your mascara.

Hearing that he must have also had a rough time made you feel sick to your stomach “thought you would have hated me.” You mumbled still thinking that this was all a dream.

Quinn would have been lying if he said that your words didn’t break his heart “could never hate you.” He softly smiled trying to tell you that he meant every word.

As much as he enjoyed being with his friends he wanted to leave “come with me?” He asked holding his hand out for you to grab.

The way his hand interlocked with yours told you that this wasn’t a dream “we should talk somewhere a bit more private.” As much as you wanted to say that you could go back to his apartment and be fine, you knew that things needed to change.

And if they didn’t then you would be having to move on forever.

The stars shone down on Vancouver as you two snuck out of the bar, despite the fact that both friends groups watched the interaction neither decided to stop it.

Sitting in his car that parked at a lookout spot looking over the city as you two ate food from your favourite takeaway restaurant you learnt one thing:

You weren’t letting him go as easy as you did this time.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #hockey imagine #oneshots #imagines #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #hockey imagines #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #amber writes fics

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