#I think I’m on the ‘they would be friends’ side
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where else but here, who else but us?
(8x06 coda) (buddie) (986 words)
Eddie wakes to the smell of bacon frying and coffee brewing, and for the first time in maybe his entire life, he lets himself luxuriate in it. If he’d actually made it to bed last night, he might even go back to sleep.
He stands and stretches, then shivers a little bit as the cool morning air tickles his bare thighs. Eddie grins. He just—
He did something for himself, and the world didn’t end. He did something for himself, and not only did the world not end, it got a little bit bigger and a little bit brighter. He did something for himself and Buck showed up, and that joy he was feeling burned a little bit hotter.
Eddie scoops his phone up off the floor and finds that it’s completely out of juice. He huffs a soft laugh and plugs it in. It’s a silly thought, but—Eddie can’t remember the last time his phone died. How could it, when he’s been so damn determined to avoid anything that might bring him a little joy. Hell, he hasn’t even been letting himself text Buck unless Buck texts him first.
He pads down the hall and into his bedroom and pulls on the softest pair of sweats he owns. He changes into an old, threadbare t-shirt, leans against the wall and exhales.
In his kitchen, Buck is making breakfast. In Texas, Christopher is safe and probably still asleep, and that’s a whole lot more than Eddie’s been letting himself acknowledge. Here in LA, Eddie is alive and healthy and, if the priest that was maybe hitting on him is to be believed, allowed to forgive himself. He’s not there yet, but he can let himself join Buck in the kitchen.
On his way, Eddie makes a pit stop in the living room. His phone, up to an impressive 8% battery, has already reconnected to the Bluetooth speaker that’s tucked behind one of the photos on the mantle. He queues up a playlist that he and Buck have been curating together for years. Soft music fills the room and Eddie kind of wants to cry.
This is what he’s been denying himself. Easy mornings and raucous evenings and his best friend filling all the empty spaces he’s always been too afraid to try to fill himself. Eddie walks into the kitchen and finds Buck already looking for him.
“Morning,” Buck says, a little rough, like it’s the first word he’s said today. It probably is.
“Hey,” Eddie replies. He steps into Buck’s space and pulls him into a hug, just because he wants to. He feels Buck exhale and melt into him. “You okay?” he asks softly.
Buck pulls back from Eddie’s embrace and bites his lip. “I, uh—honestly?”
Eddie nods.
“I don’t really know,” Buck admits. “I think I just—or, I thought—I don’t know.��� He lets out a frustrated huff.
Eddie slides his hand down Buck’s arm until his fingers are circling Buck’s wrist. “You don’t have to,” he offers.
Buck’s head tips to the side. “You seem different,” he observes quietly.
“I am, I think,” Eddie says.
“What does that mean?” Buck asks
Eddie considers for a moment. “I think I’m just… ready to let some things go,” he says. “Maybe let some new things in.”
Buck smiles, small but genuine. “That’s—I’m glad.”
“Me too.” It’s incredible, but Eddie’s pretty sure he actually means it.
Buck’s gaze slides away from Eddie and hits the floor. “I, um. Me and Tommy. We—or, he—he broke up with me,” he says.
Something clenches in Eddie’s chest. “Then he’s an idiot,” he says.
“Maybe,” Buck says with a kind of hopeless shrug.
“He is,” Eddie says with conviction. “You’re—“ Sunshine. Joy. Perfect. Everything. He lets go of Buck’s wrist and twists their fingers together. “You’re the best person I know,” he says. “If Tommy couldn’t see that, that’s on him.”
Buck blows a disbelieving breath out through his nose. “He said I was going to break his heart.”
“Getting his heart broken by you would be a privilege,” Eddie replies before he can think better of it.
Buck lets out a pained noise. “But I wouldn’t—or, I didn’t want—” He cuts himself off with a frown. He looks up through his lashes and Eddie and Eddie—
Oh, Eddie wants.
“Anyone who’s lucky enough to be loved by you, even for a second, should know it’d be worth it,” he says.
“Eds,” Buck breathes.
“I mean it,” Eddie says, squeezing his hand. “And if you don’t, I’ll believe it enough for both of us.”
Buck laughs wetly. “You make it hard for a guy to wallow in a breakup, you know that?”
Eddie grins. “Good.” He steps back, tugging Buck’s wrist as he goes. “Come here,” he says, and Buck follows easily.
The coffee and bacon are quickly cooling on the counter, but there’s music in the air and Buck’s in his arms and Eddie’s pretty sure he wants to kiss his best friend. And he thinks that might even be a good thing.
“Eddie, what?” Buck asks breathlessly as Eddie puts a hand on his waist and spins them both.
“We’re dancing,” Eddie says, smiling.
“O-okay,” Buck says, clumsily following his lead.
Eddie can’t help the laugh that bubbles from his chest. A small grin spreads across Buck’s face.
“Maybe I would have,” Buck murmurs quietly.
“What?” Eddie asks, spinning him again, just because he can.
“Broken his heart.”
Warmth spreads from Eddie’s chest to his fingertips. “Yeah?” he asks breathlessly.
Buck hums but doesn’t clarify further. Eddie, though, Eddie’s pretty sure he gets it.
He and Buck—well. It’s hard to imagine a world where they don’t choose each other, over and over and over again. It’s them. How could they ever end up anywhere but here?
Eddie wants. He tightens his grip on Buck and keeps dancing.
#911 spoilers#911fic#buddiefic#911 fic#buddie fic#911#buddie#fic#abbie writes#still can't even verbalize the emotions i'm feeling rn so here's a fic with all of them in it!
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i was at a restaurant last week, watching the political ads on the TV between sports games. one from the trump campaign ended with the slogan “kamala is for they/them. trump is for you”. it was vilely clever - and it made a clear statement about who was the enemy, the other, the unwelcome, in trump’s great america. i thought about how the right had gone all-in on transphobia this election season, and i hoped it was a gamble that would cost them.
this week has been a gut punch, and i’ve been feeling a lot of things - rage, fear, grief, and subspecies of those emotions. what i kept coming back to, though, as i digested these feelings, were the people i love. my queer friends. the trans kids in my community. the people who, already, are losing their rights to bodily autonomy, state-by-state. the way that i’ve had to start looking at our country as a fucked up patchwork of safe and not-safe. the way that access to medical care, increasingly, changes depending on which side of an arbitrary border you’re on. i’m also realizing the ignorance and privilege it is to only think of our country this way, now. america has always been about picking and choosing who deserves rights, who we consider a person. but, despite the deep-seated flaws of this country, i live in it. so do so many people i love. and that’s what I keep coming back to: the people i love, and my desire to protect them. at the very center of all the rage and hurt and anxiety and sorrow i’m feeling, is a deep, perilous love. i am holding onto that love. i hope you are, too.
#my art#art#flower meanings for a little fun: white iris for innocence/a new start#goldenrod for good luck and perseverance#chamomile for peace and calm
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"This is how you fall in love" | OP81
parings: Oscar Piastri x Reader.
Summary: Oscar is truly, madly, deeply in love with you.
Now playing: "this is how you fall in love" by Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler.
Word count: +1,2k
Warnings: I think none just pure fluff. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many errors). I do what I can. Not proofread.
Authors note: hey I don’t even know if this is good - I really hope it is - but I needed to write about Oscar SO BAD. (Btw is Yale in New York? Forgot to look it up). Update: I changed it. Yale it’s no even near to NYC 🤣 I’m a mess. Don’t forget to comment, like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)
MASTERLIST
It was a sunny morning in Monaco. The quiet of the city could still be appreciated. You were asleep on the bed you shared with Oscar. It was your first night here since you haven’t seen each for the last time about 1 month or maybe almost 2. Time is a difficult thing to be aware of with his schedule to be honest.
Both of you had really busy lifestyles yet managed to build this relationship. Mostly it was a long distance relationship. He was traveling and working the whole year. And you were a student at Ivy Columbia University in New York City. As students it was difficult to find a gap between your exam and classes that fitted the races. You tried your best to always be there for him. Even if it was through the phone after the race. And for him that was really considerate.
You didn’t even have time to breathe when it was exams season yet you still find time to call and check on him. He knows it’s an obvious thing you’re supposed to do with people you love. But still he really appreciates it.
He was so happy and grateful you were finally together. Because you don’t see each other that often - every moment you spend together it’s so intense and pure magic. You do everything you could think of before saying goodbye again and part ways. It was the hardest part of your relationship. You said goodbye to each other so many times it anxiety breaking. He just never could get enough from you, from being with you. He has never felt this way about anyone and the fact that it’s been 4 years of being side by side it was crazy to him. How he would never get bored of you. You were always so intriguing, unpredictable, witty. You were the opposite when it came to what others could see. But behind close doors in your little magical and full of love world - you two matched each other's crazy perfectly.
Oscar is an introvert and really shy when it comes to interactions with people, always feeling nervous and so polite. You were always loud and could talk even with a wall if you wanted to. Always the life of the party so extroverted. You were the opposite but the same in a way. You would get so shy around him giggling like the teenager you were since you two met. And he could be the best at flirting and teasing around you. You made him feel so comfortable in his own skin and he just got loose and relaxed. Could be the real him with you. And just for you.
In your little beautiful world you wouldn’t stop talking about everything and anything. Joking around and teasing each other just to end up having sex in the living room. The chemistry between you two was unmatched. Behind your four walls he was the most confident man and you were as well. Bringing the best of each other out. Just for the other one. You were sexy, fierce, not afraid of anything. He made you feel even powerful.the way he always uplift you when you needed him the most and the fact that you could be so vulnerable knowing he won’t judge. He never did. He knew the real you and embraced it. His love changed you so much. He is the best thing that ever happened to you. And you were his. Oscar with you was kind of another person. It was him of course but intensified. Open and free. You gave him that space, that safety. And he adored you so much for that. Being himself it’s something he struggles with most of the time. Shying away. But with you by his side he could be the life of the party too.
He loved watching you study so concentrated. He would join you in silence, maybe by reading a book, or preparing your favorite tea in moral support. Or he would just sit in silence admiring you. How the sun would reflect on you and how it could make you shine even more. How perfect you’d look. And how that could make his heart race high speed. He would feel so lucky to have you. The comfort he felt was so big. He would want the time to stop right there and live stuck there forever. With you. Also, he loved the way you showed him so much love. He loved your homemade cakes and pies. You were so good with pastry. It was your inside joke. Because you were so good with him as well. He sometime would join you and try to help just to fail miserably and start a flour fight. The kitchen ended up in a mess but you were giggling and enjoying yourselves. Everything was worth it.
He really loved sharing activities together. Whether it was a paddle match against George and Carmen or Maria Kart battles with Lando. Also you loved hiking together and discovering new places around Monaco where you could escape reality and plan picnic dates. He loved that you got along so well with his friends and family. Since day one it felt natural. Everyone was welcoming of you. He was so nervous about it. But it was perfect because for him you were.
He heard you coming down the stairs just in time for the breakfast he had prepared for you both. You appeared with your hair in a mess and sleepy eyes. His tshirt on and your boxers of lighting mcqueen. You looked so adorable. Squishy. he smiled widely at you. And you returned the smile hugging him tightly.
“Good morning sleeping beauty” he said sweetly, grabbing you in his arms and kissing your temple. He heard you giggle.
“Good morning my Prince Charming. How grateful I am to wake up next to you for the rest of my life” you said teasingly and romantically looking at him. He giggled blushing. A soft pink tone now on his cheeks. You always had that effect on him.
“and how grateful I am to have you in my arms every morning for the rest of my days” he said just like you making you giggle to then plant a soft kiss on your lips. “I love you,” he said, pulling away gently.
“Me too my love” you said softly.
You two took all of the things he had prepared with so much love to the table by the pool. The morning was beautiful and warm. Perfect. He put all of your favorite fruits and prepared your favorite cappuccino as well. He is always on the details. He remembered everything about you. You didn't have to ask - he already knew. He was perfect. Perfectly imperfect. There was no other man like him. You were sure about it. And you felt really lucky he even looked at you. These past few years were everything and more of what you could ever have dreamed as a kid. You always wanted to have your special someone - but you never thought you would find him.
You had your breakfast talking about what you were gonna do for the day.
Maybe this is what it really feels to fall in love.
Peaceful. Comfortable in silence. Not overthinking. Just being you and feeling loved. Feeling seen. Feeling celebrated. Cared for. Being chosen. The one. The bestest of friends. Your shoulder to cry on. Laughing until crying. Hugs and more hugs. Plasire. Deep talk. Vulnerability. Partnership. Support. Admiration. Trust and communication.
Giving a part of you to someone else to carry everywhere they went trusting they will never break it.
Maybe this is how you fall in love.
How you two fell in love every single day.
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Hope you liked it 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!
#my work!🧉#works by cate :)#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#op81 imagine#op81 x reader#op81 fic#op81#f1 x female reader#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x you
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Hi! I was wondering if you could do a werewolf Gojo and Geto with a female reader? A smut would be nice if possible but if you have any other ideas I’m down to ready anything!! I hope you have an amazing day/night! 😊
NOW PLAYING
ALL BARK, NO BITE
Satoru & Suguru have been fighting over you for a long time, but maybe finally, they’ll learn how to share
Starring: Satoru Gojo & Suguru Geto
Warnings! fem!reader, minor a/b/o dynamics, wolf!gojo & wolf!geto, scenting, oral (f receiving), cucking, knotting, etc.
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Gojo & Geto were like brothers. They like the same movies, the same clothes, the same girl. & they fought over everything. You didn’t know if it was a friend thing or a wolf thing; probably just a Gojo & Geto thing. It was always a competition. Who could run faster, who could jump higher, who could fuck you better? & it’s not that you wanted to string either of them along, per se, but how could you possibly choose between one or the other.
You weren’t entirely unfamiliar with hybrids, but not being one yourself, it was hard to say whether their animalistic rivalry was because of that side of them, or if their friendship was just that extreme. You know that they’re good friends, probably smart enough to not let some girl come in between that, but it’s a Freudian slip that has you doubting yourself.
They’d been trying to pin you down for weeks. Who was better, which one did you want? Almost jokingly, you laughed & shrugged & said, “What if I want you both?”
The words had barely left your mouth when you saw their eyes flash with something primal. A low growl rumbled from Geto's chest, while Gojo's lips curled into a predatory smirk. The air in the room suddenly felt charged, electric. Then Gojo's lips curled into that infuriating smirk of his. “Both, huh? Think you can handle us?”
Geto circled behind you, his breath hot on your neck. ‘You think you can take us both? Together?” They moved in perfect sync, circling you like predators. This was uncharted territory, dangerous & thrilling all at once.
Your heart raced as their presence surrounded you, making you feel small & vulnerable, yet strangely exhilarated. You swallowed hard, your mouth dry. "I…I don't know. Maybe? That isn’t really what I m-m–”
“Aww, c’mon, don’t back down now, sweetheart. Can’t say somethin’ like that n’then take it back,” Geto purs, slipping a hand up your shirt, nosing at the back of your ear, down your neck, as Gojo grips your chin, tilting your head up to his. Your breath catches in your throat as Gojo's piercing blue eyes lock onto yours. His thumb traces your lower lip, sending shivers down your spine, & you look…scared, prey-like, & Gojo’s almost embarrassed to admit how hard that makes him. "We're just getting started," Gojo murmurs, his voice low & husky, & Geto hums in agreement, hands wandering farther & farther, one of his thumbs hooking the waistband of your pants down slowly & the other pushing at your bra. Gojo herding the both of you to the bed.
"Don't worry," Geto whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "We'll take good care of you." Your eyes flicker closed as Gojo leans in, his lips barely grazing yours. "Just relax," he says softly. "Let us make you feel good." & he says it with such determination that you can’t hardly object.
With a gentle tug, he removes your sticky panties, revealing a clear trail of your arousal. As he admires your glistening folds & teases your sensitive clit with his fingers, Satoru is positioned in front of you by Suguru. Completely under Suguru's control, Satoru follows his every direction without hesitation, but he can’t help sticking his face in your pretty cunt, tongue lapping at your mess, nosing bumping against your clit, whining at how good you taste. Suguru guides his fingers back to your dripping entrance & then has Satoru suck them clean. Satoru moans loudly at the taste of you, clearly enjoying every moment of it.
Suguru takes a rough grip of Satoru's leaking cock & rubs it against your slick clit, eliciting moans from both of you. He guides Satoru's hips & helps him ease into your tight heat. Whimpering starts to escape Satoru's lips as he struggles to process the overwhelming sensations. But he doesn't tell Suguru to stop, so he continues on. You also struggle with the new feeling of being filled by something so large, gripping onto the pillows for dear life. Suguru sets a slow pace, guiding Satoru in & out of you with his hands. He pauses to let Satoru feel you fully before resuming the steady rhythm. Your walls clench around him tightly, causing him to cry out & seek comfort in the crook of your neck. Despite the tears streaming down his face, it's an incredibly arousing sight for both you & Suguru. He encourages Satoru to make you feel good too, & he responds by licking your sensitive neck, & you don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it, it’s so instinctual for him. You don’t have much room in your head for big thoughts, but faintly you’re surprised that Geto isn’t the one fucking you. & yet, he’s still in complete control of the situation.
His hips start moving faster, creating loud wet sounds as your bodies collide with each thrust. Suddenly, you let out a cry & tell Suguru that you feel strange, like your stomach is aching. He reassures you & urges you to let go.
Geto's intense stare traced every curve & movement of your body. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he spoke. "You're doing so well," he praised, his voice husky, "such a good girl for us." His dirty words only added to the rush of arousal between your legs, causing you to become even more soaked with desire.
Your body trembles as you approach the edge, overwhelmed by the dual sensations of Satoru inside you & Suguru's commanding presence. Geto's words push you even closer, his praise igniting something primal within you.
"That's it," Geto murmurs encouragingly. "Let it all go. Show us how good we make you feel.” & you’re sure you’ll never get used to Gojo’s knot; it’s not just the overwhelming size, but that way it holds you in place, the loss of all friction, just being entirely full of him & there’s nothing to relieve the immensity of it.
With a cry, you finally tumble over the precipice. Waves of pleasure crash over you as your orgasm washes through your body. Your walls clench rhythmically around Satoru, pulling him deeper. He whimpers against your neck, his hips stuttering as he struggles to hold back his own release.
Suguru's hand tangles in Satoru's hair, tugging his head back. "Not yet," he orders firmly. "Make her come again first."
At first, you’d been worried you were driving a wedge between Gojo & Geto’s friendship, but you can put that worry to rest because clearly, you’re what’s holding them together.
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first of all: thank you anon!!! I love getting requests & I actually had something written like this for Kinktober & ended up not posting it, so I'm glad I could use it! I hope you're having a great day too!!! <3
secondly: I don't think I have the whole hybrid/omegaverse thing on lock yet, it's just no my strong suit, so I'm sorry if this was not great or if parts of it didn't make sense
third: cuck!geto.........that's all <3
LOOKING FOR SOME MORE? MASTERLIST <3
LOOKING FOR SOMETHING SPECIFIC? ASK <3
#jjk#jjk smut#satoru gojo#suguru geto#satosugu#satoru smut#gojo smut#suguru smut#geto smut#satosugu smut#wolf!gojo#wolf!geto#hybrid jjk#satoru x reader#gojo x reader#suguru x reader#geto x reader#satosugu x reader
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THIS.
My mother will never, ever, listen to me about politics. I’ve tried. It’s only gotten worse with time. To her, I am a clueless child who’s bought in to the vast liberal conspiracies. I cannot convince her about *anything*. About all I can do is mention when right-wing policies personally affect me or people close to me, which she then…well, she generally denies that the policy had anything to do with the thing I’m mentioning. But sometimes she becomes aware of real-world things that the policies she’s voting for are affecting. I did get her to call her congresscritter one time when the ACA was up for repeal and say that even though she supported the repeal, the replacement needed to keep the pre-existing condition clause. It was the best I could do. It’s gotten worse since then.
All the folks saying that you have to talk to your Trump-voting family members- yes, but also no. You can, and should, be strategic. Your older relatives don’t respect anyone younger than them? Leave them be. You don’t have to take shit from them but leave them be.
But if you’re a guy and your younger male cousin who looks up to you starts saying incel bullshit? You likely have an opportunity.
My college friends come in two flavors, mostly- wildly right wing and queer people who left the evangelical community way long ago. The folks in the B group don’t have any sway over the folks in the A group, and it would be a waste of time for them to try. But I’m also thinking of one of the few sane friends who’s maintained connections with both sides- she’s one who, if I lived closer, I would honestly try to radicalize. (Wouldn’t work well online- I know her well enough to know that.) And she’s “safe” enough to some of the crazies that a few of them might be willing to listen to her if she said things to them.
Look for the people with whom you have good relationships, who respect you, who listen to you. If your whole family doesn’t, then you’re not it. Look elsewhere. But there are very likely people you can influence safely, and should.
Activism is not cold-calling.
Activism is not cold-calling, and this is critically important to understand.
I'm seeing a lot of posts on here about 'building bridges' and 'finding community,' and then (extremely valid) response posts saying "BUT HOW??" And I'm going to explain something that can be very counter-intuitive: there is strategy involved in community.
As a longtime volunteer labour organizer, I’ve taken and taught many trainings on the strategy of talking. Something that surprises a lot of people is the very first thing you do in a union campaign. You sit down with your organizing committee, take out pen and paper, and literally map it out. You draw a physical map of the workplace: where are the entrances, exits, break rooms, supervisor offices. Essentially, ‘where is it safe to have a union conversation.’ Then you draw another physical chart of your coworkers. You sort out who is union-friendly, openly hostile to unions, or somewhere in the middle, and then you plan out very deliberately and carefully who talks to whom and in what order.
Consider: If Vocally Leftist Jane walks up to Conservative David and says "hey what do you think about unions," David is going to shut down immediately. He's not inclined to listen to Jane. But if Jane talks to Moderate Jason and brings him into the fold, then Jason is a far more effective strategic choice to talk to David, and David may actually hear him out without an instant reaction.
IMPORTANT CAVEAT: If Conservative David turns out to be Alt-Right David, and could be dangerous to follow organizers, we write him off. We are not trying to reach Alt-Right David. We are trying to reach Conservative David, who may actually be persuaded to find solidarity with other employees as fellow workers. Jason is a safe scout to find out which one he is. It does no one any good if Leftist Jane (or even Moderate Jane who is a visible minority) talks to Alt-Right David and puts herself on his radar. Not only has she done nothing to convince Alt-Right David to join a union - she's probably actively turned him against the idea - but now she's also in danger and the entire campaign is at risk. NOBODY WANTS THIS. Jane was NOT a hero for doing this. The organizing committee was foolish and enacted a terrible strategy to everyone's detriment.
Where you can make a difference is with people who will listen to you. You having a conversation with your well-meaning but clueless Centrist Democrat Auntie, and maybe gently helping her understand some things the media has been glossing over, is way more strategically useful than you marching up to MAGA Neighbour You've Met Once and trying to "build community" or "understand" them. They don't care. They're impervious, dangerous, and cruel. But maybe your beloved auntie will think about what you said, and then talk to her friend Anna who IDs as "fiscally conservative" but didn't vote because she can't bring herself to get on board with Trump. Then perhaps Anna talks to her brother Nic who has MAGA leanings but isn't all the way there yet. Proto-MAGA Nic would not have listened to you, nor would he have listened to Centrist Democrat Auntie, but he might absorb some of what his sister is saying.
This is not a cop-out or an echo chamber. This is you spending your time and energy strategically and safely. You are not a useful activist to anyone if you’re dead. Anyone who is telling you to hurl yourself directly at MAGA assholes like cannon fodder has no understanding of the strategy behind community building, and you should feel comfortable writing them off.
Last point: If you are tired, emotionally devastated, and/or in danger: take a break. This post is for people who would feel better jumping into action, not for people who are too overwhelmed to even think about it right now. You are worth so much even if you’re not actively Doing Activism, and your rest is worth more than “a break period so you can recharge and Do More Activism.” We all deserve the individual dignity of being worthy of comfort, rest & safety just on the basis of being human, outside of whatever we're doing for others' benefit. To deny ourselves that dignity is to devalue ourselves, and that’s the absolute last thing any of us should be doing right now.
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i was the one that asked if you writw dark stuff. and tysm for replying, you are so incredibly sweet💕🎀
So, could you write a dark fanfic with Nicholas or Father Charlie (you choose lol) with noncon and maybe dv? like, reader meets him and one of her family members owns him something and he like? uses her instead? if thats okay, could u do it rlly darkkk?
tysm and ily!!! 💕💞
Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader
summary— your father fucked nicholas over and he kidnaps you to get his payback.
warnings— EXPLICIT CONTENT. kidnapping, manipulation, extreme degrading, praise kink, face slapping, male masturbation, crying kink, face fucking, CNC, unprotected sex, knife play, death threats, violence, bondage, mentions of bruises, choking, double penetration with knife handle, anal, breeding kink, stockholm syndrome.
a/n— i think this is quite…dark and thank you🫶🏽hope you guys enjoy, def stepped out of my comfort zone for this, requests are open!
Nicholas had always known your father was a powerful man, a producer and director with the kind of influence that could turn anyone into a Hollywood legend. They had made a deal, Nicholas would land two starring roles that would launch his career to the next level. The first film had given him some visibility, but no real money, thanks to your father’s manipulation of the contract. The second role was supposed to be his ticket to true fame and fortune. But then, it all fell apart. Your father broke his promises, cutting Nicholas out in favor of his own friend, Cooper Koch. Worse yet, he’d seized some of Nicholas' property as “leverage” during the filming, draining him financially and leaving him furious and betrayed.
Your father had underestimated just how deep Nicholas’ anger would run. He wanted what was rightfully his, and if he couldn’t get it through negotiations or agreements, he’d find another way. That’s when he learned about you—the daughter your father doted on, especially since the loss of his only son, your older brother, who was meant to be the family heir. But Nicholas wasn’t here for empathy. He wanted revenge, and he knew exactly how to get it.
You agreed to go on a date with Nicholas, the rising star you had met and grown fond of, without a second thought. But as you sat in his car, something felt off. He was silent, his gaze hard as he gripped the steering wheel, ignoring your attempts at small talk.
“Where are we going?” you asked, noticing that he’d missed the turn toward the restaurant.
He didn’t answer right away, his jaw clenched tightly. Finally, he murmured, “Change of plans.”
You felt a prickle of unease and glanced around, trying to piece together where he might be headed. The buildings grew sparse, and the trees thickened on either side of the road, casting shadows as the sun dipped lower. “This doesn’t look like the way to any restaurant,” you said, your voice faltering.
He turned to you, eyes cold. “It’s not.”
A chill ran down your spine. Panic set in as he accelerated, the car speeding down a winding road that led into the dense woods. “Nicholas, stop the car,” you demanded, reaching for the door handle, but he locked it before you could react.
He didn’t look at you, but his voice dropped to a menacing whisper. “You think your father can cross me and get away with it? That he can just toss me aside like I’m nothing?” His grip on the wheel tightened. “This isn’t a date, sweetheart. This is payback.”
Your heart pounded as you pulled at the door, the lock refusing to budge. “You don’t have to do this! Whatever he did-”
“He took everything from me,” Nicholas snarled, his eyes darkening as he drove deeper into the woods. “Everything I worked for. The fame, the fortune, my properties, my pride. And now? I’m taking something from him.”
In a desperate attempt to escape, you kicked at him, your fists pounding against his arm. He barely flinched, his focus unbreakable as he finally pulled up to a secluded cabin, hidden by towering trees and thick brush. You barely had time to scream before he leaned over, his hand covering your mouth.
“Quiet,” he hissed, his voice cold as he tightened his grip. “You’re going to make this harder on yourself sweetheart.”
With a swift motion, he hit a spot on the side of your head, and darkness began to cloud your vision. The last thing you saw before losing consciousness was his dark gaze.
When you woke, your hands were bound to a bed frame in a dimly lit room, and your head throbbed. The dim light filtered through the cracks in the cabin walls, casting eerie shadows. He was there, leaning against the doorframe, watching you with a look that was almost satisfied.
“Comfortable?” he asked mockingly, tilting his head.
You struggled against the ropes, glaring at him. “You’re fucking insane! My father won’t just let this slide!”
He laughed, the sound sharp and humorless. “Your father will do exactly what I want, or he’ll never see you again.”
As you struggled against the ropes, glaring at him. “My father won’t stand for this. He’ll ruin you,” you spat, words filled with venom. “You think your career’s over now? It’s nothing compared to what he’ll do when he finds out what you’ve done.”
His smirk faded, his gaze darkening. In a flash, he crossed the room, sending a chill through you. He leaned down, his face mere inches from yours as his hand struck yours with force, the impact whipping your head to the side.
“Careful with that fucking attitude,” he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. “If you want to get through this in one piece, you’d better be a good little girl and play along.” His mouth curled into a mocking smile as he added, “Maybe I’ll let you go if you can manage that.”
A spark of hope flickered across your burning face, but his mocking laugh snuffed it out. “Oh, don’t look so hopeful,” he sneered. “I own you now. The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be for you.”
The next few days, Nicholas seemed almost amused by your resistance, feeding off your energy as he reminded you just how little control you had. You played along in the way he wanted you to, letting him hold you close as he told you about the disgusting things he wanted to do to you and your father and whatever other sick games he had in mind. Whenever he would see you cry and resist him, your acrylics digging in his back and leaving welts, you noticed the prominent bulge it left in his pants.
One morning, he threw down a newspaper, its headline blaring the news of your disappearance and the national search underway. Your father’s influence had reached every corner of the country, and law enforcement was relentless. Nicholas caught your glance, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. “Guess Daddy dearest is worried,” he taunted, feigning innocence. “How touching.”
You burst into tears, unable to hold it in any longer, you missed your father and you wanted to be away from the psycho standing in front of you. He laughed in your face, slowly taking out his impressively long and hard cock, pumping it as you cried harder. Disgust filled you as you watched him moan the harder you cried. He was getting off to your pain and somehow—deep inside, watching him get off to you turned you on.
“Keep fucking crying sweetheart, you’re gonna make me cum so hard.” Disgusted, you turned your head away, refusing to look at the sight before you but he just chuckled. You opened your eyes feeling the bed dip and you looked up at him, seeing him with his cock above you.
“Open your fucking mouth,” he growled, his stroking become more frantic.
“You’re disgusting,” you spat. He stopped stroking his dick to slap you in the face with it, earning a soft whimper. Obeying him, you opened your mouth, squeezing your eyes shut at the man before you shoved his length into your mouth, thrusting, before he shot his load down your throat.
“Fucking hell, that’s a good fucking whore, take all my cum,” he groaned, grabbing a fistful of your curls and bucking his hips.
As soon as he let you go, your head snapped to the side, shame filling you.
Nicholas leaned in, his expression cold. “You’re mine now,” he said, his voice steady and unyielding. “You’ll make up for every single thing your father took from me. And once I’m done, once I’ve taken back what’s rightfully mine, he’ll be begging for my mercy.”
You glared back, forcing yourself to hold his gaze despite the fear tightening in your chest. “You’re delusional if you think you can control me or him,” you said, your voice shaking with defiance.
Nicholas laughed, unphased. “We’ll see. By the time I’m finished, you won’t even want to go back to that man.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “Because I’n going to break you like a bitch and you’ll be begging to stay with me.”
He watched your expression, almost amused, as you struggled to maintain your composure. “You’ve done well so far, taking my cock down your throat,” he continued, his tone dark but oddly approving. “Maybe it’s time I marked you as mine.”
You swallowed, your mind racing. No matter how much you fought, the lines between fear and something you didn’t want to admit were beginning to blur. He seemed to sense it, a satisfied smirk crossing his face as he leaned back, leaving you to confront the uncertainty.
A gasp left your lips as he gripped your throat, tearing your dress off you. He was a predator and you were his prey. His eyes scanned your almost bare body, licking his lips as you quivered in fear. If your hands weren’t bound to the bed you would’ve tried concealing yourself.
“Please stop,” you whimpered.
“Shut the fuck up,” he snapped, “don’t make me gag you, better yet I won’t, I want to hear you beg me to stop then I want to hear your little moans when you realize I’m making you feel good.”
Your lips quivered as you fought back tears, refusing to give him the satisfaction he wanted.
“Now, I’m going to untie you and you’re going to take off your underwear like a good little bitch. If you try anything stupid, I’ll fucking kill you, understood?” he said, reaching for your wrists.
Slowly, you nodded, the threat rising fear inside you but a sharp smack to the face jolted you. “I said do you fucking understand me?”
“Y-yes Nicholas.”
He untied your wrists, and you looked down to see them black and blue. Slowly, you carried out his request, only having to take off your underwear as you unfortunately went to the ‘date’ not wearing a bra.
“Now spread those legs.”
A soft whimper left your lips and you complied, knowing exactly what the psycho would do to you if you refused. “Good girl.” He reached for the bedside table, taking out a sharp knife from the drawer. “Now, once again, if you think of doing anything stupid, I’ll slit that pretty throat and still fuck it.”
He held the knife lightly against your throat, his fingers dipping between your legs as you trembled. “If you’re so fucking scared and I’m a psycho, why are you soaked? Why the fuck are you wet?”
Shame overtook you, and you squeezed your eyes shut, just wanting it all to be over. You thought about your father, your dead brother, anything to take your mind off what was about to happen.
“It’s gonna be okay princess, I’ll take good care of you if you take good care of me.” He knelt on the bed, making sure you were mouth level with his cock. “It’s time to take good care of me, open up that mouth and I swear to god if you use teeth, I’ll use the knife to knock out every last one of them.”
Reluctantly, you opened your mouth, and he slowly pushed his big cock into it. Your mouth was wide open and you were gagging on it, trying your best to breathe. He began snapping his hips forward, his cock continuously going down your throat and through it all, he kept the knife pressed against your throat.
“Fuck, you really have a mouth on you,” he chuckled, “you’re suck a good cock sleeve, I’m going to enjoy using you like the whore you are.”
His thrusts became rougher and you could hardly breathe and soon, he held you by your curls, pushing your head all the way down until your nose was on his pubes. “I’m gonna cum bitch, swallow my fucking load, don’t let it go to waste.”
You couldn’t even spit it out if you wanted to. He released down your throat, the action making you cough around his dick as he made sure to milk every drop inside your mouth. “You did so good for me baby, I know you’re enjoying this.”
You shivered as he used the cold handle of the knife, rubbing it up and down your folds. Shame bubbled inside you as you heard the unmistakable sound of squelching noises telling you exactly how soaked you were.
“What a disgusting slut, your pussy is practically gushing for me, are you seriously enjoying this?” You looked away embarrassed, heat rising in your cheeks.
A gasp left your lips as you felt the handle sink into your pussy. “Nicholas, please, no,” you begged, disgusted at the sight below you.
“What the fuck did I tell you? Shut the fuck up!” he screamed at you.
Your pussy clenched around the handle as he began fucking you with it faster, the pain soon subsiding and being replaced by pleasure. Trying to hold back your moans seemed futile as he began rubbing your clit and the handle hit a certain spot inside you.
“You’re getting off on this? Fuck, you’re much more of a whore than I thought. If you cum on the knife’s handle I’ll know for sure you were just asking for my cock, you’re fucking asking for it,” he chuckled, darkly.
Hearing his words, you pressed your lips together, containing your moans and trying your hardest not to cum. He only chuckled at your attempts, the handle speeding up inside you and the squelching noises becoming louder and louder. You wished you were deaf in that moment, at least you wouldn’t have to endure the shame of knowing being manhandled by your kidnapper was turning you on.
“Cum for me whore, I know you want to, you won’t be able to stop yourself forever.” Your body betrayed you and as soon as the words left his lips, you soaked his hand and the handle inside you.
“Oh my fucking god, you’re disgusting,” he laughed, looking down at his soaked hand, “did you really just squirt from me fucking you with a knife blade?”
It felt like your world was crumbling as he laughed mockingly and your pussy twitched, slowly gushing.
“Well then, that was easy, I think you’re ready for this big, fat cock to fuck that tight pussy.” He dragged you by your legs, pulling you flat on your back and rubbed the tip up and down your pussy.
“Nicholas, you don’t have to do this, my father will give you back everything he took, I promise. Y-you can let me go, please, I won’t tell.”
“Oh shut up,” he said, slapping you on the mouth, “you don’t get it do you? I own you now. You’re mine. He took everything away from me and I’ll take and use you instead.”
Not giving up, you tried to beg more, “Please don’t, I’m begging you.”
“If you didn’t want me to fuck you, you wouldn’t have squirted for me. You wouldn’t have been soaked like a whore from my touch. Surely you want this, surely your body knows you better than your dumb little brain does. Just lay there and take it, you’ll like it.”
Maybe he was right. If you didn’t want it, why else would you have been wet? Why did you cum? Your body would’ve refused him. Maybe this wasn’t so bad, maybe he just wanted to make you feel good like he did before.
A scream erupted as he pushed his thick cock inside you, giving you no time to adjust. “That’s it bitch, scream for me.”
Your gasps and screams grew louder as he began pounding into you, the bed frame smacking against the wall and your tits bouncing. He took up the knife and traced it along your jaw, admiring how you looked taking him. He brought it down to your tits, increasing his pace and making you moan and scream even louder for him. The intensity of it all was unbearable and you could already feel the impending orgasm.
“I need you to remember you’re nothing but a pussy for me to fuck, a cock slut. You feel so fucking good clenching around my dick.”
He began using the wet handle to rub your clit and you knew it was over for you. Gripping on to his toned biceps, your jaw fell open, loud moans leaving you as you came all over his raw cock inside you. Curse him for not at least using a condom.
“That’s it, let it all out, let out those slutty moans too. You should be a bitch in porn with the way you squirt and moan,” he laughed breathlessly.
He swiftly flipped you onto your back, but instead of pulling your ass up to him, he pressed a bit of his body weight onto you as you lay flat on the bed, slipping his cock inside your pussy once more.
“Spread your pussy for me,” he demanded.
He began pounding into you as you shamefully had your hands on your ass spreading yourself for him. “You should see just how wet you are, but I’m sure hearing it tells you all you need to know.”
You felt so full with him pressing down on you, thrusting roughly, having no regard for the mix of pain that accompanied the pleasure. But, deep down, you were enjoying it. You enjoyed the way he manhandled you, the way he spoke to you like you were nothing, the way he was fucking you like you were just a flesh light.
“Oh god your pussy is just sucking me in, clenching so tightly around me, cum for me again bitch.”
Unable to spread your pussy for him any longer, you gripped the sheets as you came hard around his cock. He continued fucking you through your high, making sure you felt everything. Making sure you knew who was fucking you and who gave you such an intense orgasm.
“My turn. I’m gonna cum inside you, breed this pussy. You’re gonna be all swollen and pregnant, then that baby is gonna be my lucky ticket to yours and your father’s fortune,” he laughed.
“Please, no, I can’t— I’m not on birth control,” you cried out.
“Oh fuck, do you feel my cock throbbing? That’s even better.”
Your protests proved futile and he filled you to the brim. The warm feeling of his load inside you making you moan in content.
“See? You’re just a slutty bitch who likes getting her pussy fucked. You know what else needs to be fucked? That tight little ass.”
Horror spread across your face. No one had ever fucked you in the ass before. He spat on your asshole then used your juices and his cum from your pussy to lubricate it, pushing it in with his fingers. You winced at the unusual intrusion. He continued fingering your ass, shoving the lubricants inside and prepping you for his cock.
“Couldn’t stop looking at that tight asshole when you were spreading for me. I just had to have it. You were practically begging for it.”
Maybe he was right, why else would you have spread yourself? Of course he would’ve seen your tight ass and wanted to fuck it too. How could you be so stupid?
“Get ready bitch.”
“Please—”
Your pleads fell on deaf ears and he pulled your ass up to him, pressing his hand into your back so you could arch for him. Slowly, his big cock began slipping inside your ass, inch by inch. He was more generous with it than your pussy.
“Fuck baby, this ass is so fucking tight, I know for goddamn sure I’m the first to fuck you in it.” He was right.
He began pounding harder as your ass opened up for him. You felt so full, you didn’t know you could feel more full until he pushed the handle of the knife into your pussy.
“Oh my god,” you moaned, the intensity making you see stars. All that was in your head was pleasure and cumming again.
“There she is, that’s my girl,” he beamed, “now bounce that ass back on my cock and this knife.”
Obeying immediately, you bounced your ass back. Your moans were so loud, the whole woods could probably hear. You didn’t care anymore. You couldn’t deny how good he was making you feel, how he was hitting all the right spots inside you. His thrusts met your ass and he rammed the handle inside your pussy over and over.
“Squirt for me baby, squirt and I’ll fill this ass up.”
You nodded frantically, still throwing your ass back to him and you screamed, your orgasm overtaking you like you’ve never felt before.
“Good girl, that’s my bitch, now beg, beg for me to cum inside your ass.”
“Please, fuck— please cum inside my ass, I need you to, please do it,” you begged.
He smirked, throwing the knife on the bed and slapping your ass as he groaned loudly, his load spurting in your ass. He held you in place and soon pulled out, watching as his cum leaked out of both your holes. He ruined you. You were his.
As he pulled out and fell beside you, you instinctively snuggled into his side, a million degrading thoughts running through your head.
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birthday- w. maximoff
pairing: fwb!wanda x reader
summary: misunderstandings can change things.
a/n: hi all! i hope yall are good! i wrote this a little bit after the first part came out. i love angst! unsure if i want a third part. also, if you don’t like this literally don’t tell me because im sensitive and cry easily
minors do not interact
“i assumed you would’ve confessed to wanda by now” natasha says as she fixes a pile of papers on your desk, “you know, since you’re head over heels for her”
nat smirks as you give her the side eye and roll your eyes, you swivel your chair towards her.
“i’m not head over heels for her. i’m ju-“
“stupid?”
narrowing your eyes and tilting your head to the side, “okay, no”
meeting natasha was by far one of the greatest strokes of luck in your life. sure, she could be blunt at times— but when it comes down to it, she tells you what you need to hear.
unfortunately, this was also one of those times.
she has constantly insisted on the idea that you need to muster up the courage to tell wanda about your feelings for her. she always says that she believes wanda feels the same towards you, but your insecurities and doubt always get in the way.
except this would actually be the second time you confess, not the first. not that you even are aware of that fact.
you don’t really recall the first time you told wanda how you felt about her. you were drunk at a party, and only wanda has a clear memory of it. however, out of respect for you and your ability to get embarrassed quickly, wanda never brought it up again.
“i just feel like it’s a losing game, you know?” you say softly, rubbing your temples, “i always thought that if one of us were to tell the other if we caught feelings, it would be her. she’s always been more upfront with her emotions than i have. i think she really only sees me as what we’d agreed upon, nat. what if im just a way for her to pass time?
you pout softly, your emotions now coming forth in front of your long time friend and colleague.
“i just feel like she treats me like a girlfriend some days, and other days it’s just,” you take in a deep breath and groan out of frustration, “other days she tells me about a girl she saw, or someone she matched with on a dating app. do you know what i mean? i get mixed signals sometimes”
nat looks at you with a sympathetic look on her face, biting her lip slightly to keep from saying anything she really shouldn’t.
truth is, nat always had an feeling that you two would end up together one way or another, she’s always rooted for you two. the only way that could happen is if the two of you get your head out of your asses. in fact, she’d tried to get wanda to come forth about her own feelings.
however, wanda was dating someone at the time of said conversation— and out of respect for her then partner, wanda kept her quiet and buried her feelings deep inside. timing has never been on your side, will it ever?
“i don’t know if there’s anything i can say to get you to tell her, but,” she raises her eyebrows and makes her voice firm to try to emphasize her point, “all i can say is that wanda is a beautiful girl who’s got brains and a personality on her. she won’t be around forever. you know you won’t forgive yourself if you don’t at least try with her”
there it is, the brutal truth you knew that natasha was going to throw at you— and what sucks the most is the fact that it’s exactly what you needed to hear.
wanda has had to call off your agreement on a few occasions because she’d gotten serious with two girls; and each time it’d left you sobbing in natasha’s arms in her apartment because you couldn’t fathom the thought of wanda with another girl.
with a soft nod, “how should i even do that? or when?”
natasha begins another one of her long speeches about how you could be losing the person who could be the one, emphasizing how you’d be the one at fault if you let her get away.
on the drive home, you can’t help but replay natasha’s words in your mind, you aren’t sure why they they’re resonating this specific time.
“don’t wait too long, you know. you never know who could come along and sweep her off her feet. that’ll be the last time you have wanda like how you have her now”
those specific words echo in your head as you get home, unsure why they’re weighing heavy on your chest this time.
sighing softly, “come on, baby, i need to get you home,” wanda says as she guides you to her car with her hand guiding you by the lower back. she had your purse and coat in her other hand, ensuring she’d grabbed everything you’d brought with you.
you two were finally at the end of the road, officially a month from graduating college and decided to attend one last party together before you were thrown into the deep end of adulthood.
you had a few too many to drink that night and wanda knew by the fourth drink and the way you couldn’t keep your hands off of her, she had to get you home safely before you ran off somewhere as soon as she took her eyes off of you.
you reached for the handle of the car door before having your hand gently smacked away.
“you know better than that,” she started softly before opening the door for you and allowing you to get comfortable in her passenger seat. wanda knew you hated having your heels on in the car, so she crouched down to remove them before giving you a quick kiss to the cheek.
wanda pulls back gently to look at your face, your glazed eyes looking back at her with a look of.. adoration?
she smiles softly and places a gentle hand on the side of your face, “you’re beautiful”
rolling your eyes and trying to hide your blush, you giggle and nudge her shoulder in a playful manner.
wanda chuckles at how you’re easy to fluster with just two words. placing another small kiss to your cheek, she closes the passenger door.
you watched as she rounded the car and get into the drivers seat with low lidded glazed eyes, a small crooked smile on your face as you watch her. the maroon mid length dress she wore was nothing short of elegant. her curled dark hair and light makeup enhanced her features so beautifully that you feared you’d somehow spill your guts to her if she made one more right move.
but you couldn’t. wanda was seeing someone— granted, it wasn’t serious nor do you think they’d even slept together, but you were terrified of being that girl.
in fact, you were too. you had been seeing maria from your public policy course for the past two months but you could never bring yourself to feel for her what you so deeply felt for wanda. you two had a mutual break up a few days later.
wanda enters the car and shrugs off her coat, her arm muscles now showing even more with the street light illuminating the inside of the car in a specific way. she fixes her hair and puts on her seat belt before she looks over at you with concern.
“you okay, bub? what’s wrong?” wanda asks softly, placing a gentle hand on your thigh as she furrows her eyebrows at your distant far off look.
wanda had no idea what was going through your head, not a single clue as to what was about to come out of your lips.
“do you ever think meant to be together? or are we just destined to be some sort of parallel line that run close but never touch”
a flicker of panic come over wanda’s face and her gentle caress on your thigh stops abruptly.
the air in the car now feels heavier, as if the spoken words have broken the ‘casual-ness’ of your spoken agreement.
wanda always hoped you two would speak about this, but when you were sober and coherent.
it came out of your lips so naturally, as if you’d said it before.
like this has been weighing heavily on your mind for a while.
wanda’s heart clenched, especially at the fact that she had finally realized that you’d been wondering about the same thing she had for years.
“i-“
wanda was completely and utterly dumbfounded for the first time when it came to you. she often, no— not often, always had an idea of what would come out of your mouth.
she often found herself staring at you when you’d speak to your friends from across the room. she’d smile at how animatedly you’d react to people words and how you’d cover your mouth as you’d giggle at a joke someone said. she could easily pride herself in the fact that she knew you.
but this, what you’d just said, had her tongue tied.
she wished you were sober. she wished you were sober so she could confess that she’d been in love with you for so long, before you two even agreed to get into bed with each other. that ever since you two were nineteen during your first year of college, she couldn’t stop thinking of you in a way that friends shouldn’t think of each other in.
but you were drunk.
you were seeing someone and so was she.
so she made the hard decision to keep her silence and take you home safely, without any casualties.
“you’re drunk,” she says sadly, her eyes showing every ounce of emotion going in through her head, “let’s save this for another day”
that day never came.
walking through the door of wanda’s apartment to get into the party wanda said she’d throw you, you’re instantly greeted with a bunch of your closest friends and a few extra guests who happened to be their plus ones.
immediately, you found yourself scanning the room and smiling at the people who were in the space. you could hear chatter and laughter, warming your heart knowing that it all came from the people you knew and loved.
with soft music in the background and the smell of wanda’s cooking, you feel immediately at ease with the atmosphere of the party.
you walk in and are greeted by your friends wishing you a happy birthday. after thanking them and giving them hugs, you find yourself by the drink table to try and loosen up.
wanda was considerate enough, as always, to ensure that the people who were invited to the party were people you could actually stand to hold a conversation with unlike other parties where you had to endure endless small chat that rotted at your brain.
speaking of wanda, you’d yet to see her even though this is her apartment. you try your best to subtly look around the room for any sight of the girl who takes up space in your mind every day.
scanning the room, you look for the dark haired girl but come up short. pouring softly, you take another sip of your drink and go to find natasha who has a look of amusement on her face as she watches you search for wanda.
“how nice of you to finally make it to your own birthday party,” she teases, “you look nice. is this the dress wanda bought you?”
it was. in fact, you’d never been a fan of dressing too girly until wanda coaxed you into letting her buy you a dress, and this one happened to be the most recent one she’s bought you.
she was always a fan of how baby blue looked on you. she liked it so much on you that she took it upon herself to buy you another two dresses, each could be used for different events.
this specific dress fell just below mid thigh and you paired it with a simple pair of white heels. you kept your makeup natural and did your hair, subconsciously styling yourself the way you know wanda would compliment. i mean, she is the one who bought you this dress and threw you this party.
what are friends with benefits for if not that?
trying to hide a small blush at natasha’s words, you nod softly and try to look away to avoid her incessant teasing.
she laughs softly and nudges your shoulder, “i haven’t seen her”
you turn back to her with a furrow of your brows and try to act like you don’t know what she’s talking about.
“your girlfriend,” she says in a monotone voice, as if it’s obvious who she’s talking about.
a small pout forms on your lips as you realize that no one’s seen wanda. everything seemed to be flowing smoothly and it didn’t seem like she needed to go out to get anything for the party, so where could she be?
turning back to natasha and excusing yourself to go grab a quick snack from the kitchen, you turn on your heel to grab a quick breather before having to go back out and socialize all night.
while at the table, you feel a presence right next to you, staring. agatha.
“well, well,” she begins in that tone of hers, “it seems like your girlfriend isn’t yours anymore, huh? is that why you’re all alone?”
you quickly whip your head towards her. not yours anymore? your body feels like it’s gone cold and you can’t pry your eyes away from agatha, almost trying to urge her to say something else, to continue on with what she just started.
“what do you mean?”
agathas’s smirk widens as she realizes shes hit a nerve.
“well, she’s not glued to you like usual. no cozying up, no fetching you whatever you need, having you on her lap. i mean, what do you mean what do i mean?”
patience wearing thin and not wanting to deal with agatha beating around the bush, you step closer to her with a firm look on your face, “where is wanda? who’s she with?”
agatha is caught off guard by your sudden jealous and angry demeanor, she drops the act.
tilting her head towards the crowd, and giving you a look of pity, “sorry, babe. last i saw her she was cozying up with a girl with a green dress. you took to long to get your girl.”
your blood runs cold for the umpteenth time in just the past twenty minutes. it’s almost like your body knew this was coming but your brain didn’t. had you just lost wanda? was it for good this time?
you turn your head to look for natasha in the living room, she’s already looking at you with a look of pity. she nods her head to the opposite side of the living room, gesturing towhere wanda is with a dark haired girl.
a knot twists inside of your chest and it feels like the air has been knocked out of you. it’s like a movie you hate but can’t tear your eyes away from. wanda looks beautiful, happy.
and you hate it.
the two look comfortable together, sitting too close for your liking. wanda’s left leg is over her right and the girl has her hand placed on her thigh.
wanda’s looking at her with a look you believed was only meant for you. the softly smile on her face and the way her eyes drift down to the girls lips makes you sick.
they’re well into a conversation and you can see how wanda is laughing at her jokes, placing her hand on the girl’s forearm as she throws her head back in a fit of laughter.
it seems all too natural and intimate.
every interaction you watch them share feels like a blow to the stomach, the air feeling like it’s being knocked out of you again.
in this moment, you slowly begin to realize that wanda was never yours. every shared moment that you two shared together, every kiss and caress, was just a way to pass the time.
you feel nauseous.
you excuse yourself from agatha and quickly find a way to wanda’s patio, where it’s vacant and you can hide for a while out here.
wanda’s apartment had a beautiful view of the city. you two often sat outside together and cuddled with a blanket and a cup of coffee after work often. you found comfort in wanda, even if you were unsure of what you two were.
she worked hard for everything she had in life and it was something you truly admired about her. she didn’t have the easiest upbringing and the fact that she still remains soft after it all and continued to be a beautiful is something you love about her.
replaying the conversation with both natasha and agatha, you can’t help but feel like a complete idiot as you realize how everything almost felt as if it was foreshadowing to this very moment.
you hear the door to the patio open but don’t turn back, you already know who it is.
familiar soft footsteps stop right next to you and you immediately smell her perfume. it’s the same one you gave her a few years ago and for the first time, it makes you sick.
“you’re wearing the dress,” amusement in her voice as she looks at the city with you, “and you look beautiful”
you smile softly but don’t engage in conversation, just acknowledging her compliment. wanda frowns softly at your lack of attention, not used to you immediately turning around and throwing back a flirt remark at her.
watching you from the side of her eye, she can tell just by your body language that something is bothering you.
you two stand at the patio railing for another few minutes, just in each others presence, until she decides to point out the elephant in the room.
“are you okay?” she asks, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.
wanda’s concern warms your heart, but you know it’s just meant to be in a friendly way. the way she always looks out for you always tugs on your heart strings.
you want to get angry with her. you want to yell and scream at her to get the hell away from you. ask her why she would string you along with pretty words and gentle gestures that screamed ‘i love you.’
but you can’t.
because at the end of the day, somehow you always find yourself back in wanda’s arms and you could never tell her you hate her. it just isn’t true. it couldn’t ever be true.
forcing the emotion down your throat, you force yourself to tell her you’re okay. forcing a smile as you look at her, you try to fake it.
but wanda knows you.
“bub,” with a soft voice, “what’s wrong?”
there it is. she knows exactly what to say, how to say it, and how to get her way.
“i just,” a deep breath, “i didn’t know you’d be bringing a date to the party.”
wanda’s face falters and she doesn’t know what to say. the girl back there was not at all her date, nor could she even fathom the idea of bringing another girl when today was supposed to be about you.
she dismissively waves a hand in front of her as she looks away, almost trying to deflect and avoid the topic, but she sees the way you’re trying to hide your hurt at the whole situation.
she begins picking at her finger nails, a nervous habit you’ve tried to help her stop. trying to figure out what to say, she stares at the ground. the last thing she’d ever want to do it hurt you, and yet here she was.
“she’s,” a slight moment of hesitation “she’s not my date. she just..”
her voice falters and she doesn’t know how to carry on so she just sighs and looks at you with an apologetic look.
wanda looks beautiful. i mean, how could she not? she’s wearing the outfit you love so much. the black pants and white top that you’ve always said makes her look sophisticated. you two always laugh at that, especially since the thought of you two now looking and acting like fully fledged adults is something that neither of you could never wrap your heads around.
“she’s just someone i’m talking to for the night, i swear” wanda fidgets uncomfortably, unsure of how to navigate this conversation. she’s never seen this side of you, the way your hidden jealousy wants to boil over.
you give her a sad smile and just shake your head, silently telling her she doesn’t have to continue. placing your hands over hers, you hold onto them tightly and bring them up to your lips to place a soft kiss against her knuckles.
“thank you for the party, wands”
wanda panics immediately, the way you said that felt like it had some sense of finality to it. anxiety fills her chest and she feels like her legs could give out at any minute. she tries to say something, anything, to get you to stay with her.
but she’s caught off guard and she doesn’t have anything on the tip of her tongue, except for the three words she’s wanted to say for so long.
giving her a hug, you hold her tightly and allow yourself to feel her touch one last time. you want to tell her you love her, tell her everything that you’ve been meaning to say.
but you fall short, like on every occasion you’ve wanted to confess.
you give her a kiss on the cheek and hold her waist as you pull back, smiling softly at her.
in this moment, you fully understand what natasha meant by telling you, “if you’re not going to tell her how much she means to you and you love her, you need to let her go. you know she deserves that much.”
wanda tries to hold onto you tightly, as if you’ll float away if she even let go for a fraction of a second. her heart was racing and she was on the verge of tears.
you release wanda as you take a step back, looking at her face and trying to take in as much of her as possible knowing this very well may be the last time you see her.
“i’ll see you.”
#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x r#wanda maximoff x reader#marvel#fwb!wanda#fwb!wanda maximoff#jealous!wanda maximoff#wanda x y/n#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wstviewvidal#noe writes
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How do others perceive you?
Pile 1 - Pile 2 - Pile 3
Remember, this is a general reading and it may not resonate for everyone or completely. Tarot is a tool to help guide but you are responsible for your actions and life, you choose your path.
Pile 1
Tarot: Page of Cups, The World (Life on Earth), Queen of Cups, The Hermit (The Cosmic Tree), The Chariot (The Spirit Plane), Page of Wands, The Star (The Veil), Four of Wands, Death (Past Lives), Wheel of Fortune (Life Map)
There is an air of being from the energy of the Earth itself. Not necessarily in a grounded way but in a more light way. People definitely think you have a beautiful smile and you have a laugh that almost sounds like bells ringing. I don’t remember if there’s a scene like that in the Tinker Bell movie or if her voice/laugh sounds like bells, but that’s a message.
They think you’re really connected to Earth, to the energies that be, and that’s something maybe you don’t even notice about yourself. Since I’ve pulled the cards, I had a feeling of “they don’t even believe it” even when they were telling me all these lovely things. This feeling is something I wish for you to feel, and you can! Especially since it’s your energy.
There is a feeling of familiarity with you. You flitter in and out of people's lives for brief moments, and if you believe in past lives (since energy is continuously recycled), you probably have met a lot of the people you come in contact with in lives before this one. There’s a safety, like stopping by a fire on a long journey. Strangers may get reminded of loved ones when they meet you.
They see you as a healer. And this may be something you notice about yourself actually. You may get tired easily because it seems like you have to help people all the time or people ask a lot of you. And I do wish you returned this energy to yourself, even if it’s for a small time in the day. Set boundaries. This could also be a reason why you filter in and out of connections with people.
I also wanna add that this deck was really excited and wanted to be the first in line. People are probably really excited to see you and talk to you. You may have a really bubbly energy and like being a social butterfly. You may also be the subject of friendship crushes, like people really wanna become friends with you.
Pile 2
WARNING: This pile was more on the “negative” side. If negative readings aren’t for you, I would suggest not reading this one.
Tarot: Three of Wands, King of Wands, Queen of Swords, Two of Wands, Eight of Swords, Five of Swords, The Star, Seven of Cups, The Magician
Before I even pull cards, there is an air of seduction. It’s like I made eye contact with a feline in the wild or a snake just slithered in. A large portion of the deck was in my hands but the other half was stuck in the box and fell onto my desk very noisily. You probably don’t give a lot of tells right away and it takes a lot of time for you to show your other self. The air of mystery is what makes you seductive; people want to figure you out. And, from experience, this could drive you absolutely insane because once they figure you out, they leave.
I’m going to be honest, I think a lot of people perceive you as “bitchy.” It could honestly just be because your stubborn and you know what you want, you go for it, and achieve it. A lot of men see you as a threat just because of your strong personality. In some ways, you could be seen as selfish because you won’t bother looking from someone else’s view. If you are an ex-people pleaser, this could be an absolute compliment. You know your worth and you want to achieve your dreams, people being threatened by it are none of your business.
If you are actively being selfish and not bothering to have empathy, well…I would do some self reflection.
Something about this pile seems so angry? There’s an aggression about this reading. Some people could take you as someone that constantly feel like you have to defend yourself, in an angry way, or you’re someone that has a hard time taking accountability.
I’m getting Kat from 10 Things I Hate About You, “Planet Look At Me, Look At Me.” Some people think you have to be the center of attention. They acknowledge that you definitely can get whatever you set your mind to, but they might not think you deserve it.
There is an air of being very misunderstood, my loves. For the people that don’t mean to come off this way, I feel like you have probably gone through a lot in the past. You’re defensive due to past hurt. You honestly may not even love yourselves and it comes off as anger to others. I couldn’t move on to Pile 3 because I kept over thinking. You may feel really bad with how you react…There’s heartache. I wanted to come back since I felt the need to hug you all. For readers (and you don’t even have to like this series or author), but you give me Nesta vibes (iykyk).
Pile 3
Tarot: The World, Three of Swords, Five of Cups, Seven of Swords, Page of Swords, The Hermit, Knight of Pentacles, King of Cups, The Star, Ten of Cups
Ah, this is my melancholic pile. People see you guys as troubled, wounded from your past. You are well loved! But I think you have a hard time accepting it or you don’t see it. There is a feeling of always having to fight, sword raised, but you are very tired from battle. I’m getting the image of a knight falling to their knees after a battle is over, some with their heads looking up at the cloudy sky and others with their heads lowered.
There had been a painful heartbreak where you went into hermit mode. You turned into yourself so you don’t get hurt again. It’s not that you aren’t friendly! But you certainly keep everyone at arms length. You’re constantly looking at the past, at the empty cups, at what you don’t have anymore…I don’t even think you’d even see new and beautiful things and people that will come into your life. You could, unfortunately, have had things pass by you without realizing.
You are ones to focus on the material world. I don’t necessarily see back-breaking work, but enough to get by. You’re numb and can only exert as much energy as you can. You don’t have any battles with others, more of the battles come from yourself. You beat yourself up. But you don’t realize the potential you have.
There is an older man here. A wise man. This could be someone in your life or someone who has passed…he watched over you. He has so much love for you and it pains him to see the turmoil you cause yourself. He wishes to share the burden with you. He wants you to talk to him and seek his comfort. And honestly, he could offer you very good guidance/advice.
Decks Used: Ophida Rosa Tarot by Leila and Olive, Ethereal Visions Illuminated Tarot Deck by Matt Hughes, White Numen Tarot: A Sacred Animal Tarot Deck by AlbaBG
Dividers: @inklore
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( read part one here )
it wasn't unusual for your friends that you and satoru don't get along that well. it’s obvious, you make snarky comments about his triumph of the week every now and then but it was unusual for them when satoru wasn't bragging about some girl anymore.
and you weren't even making side comments about how he doesn't have any new “girl” for the week now. at first, it was suguru who noticed it.
but then come shoko, then of course, utahime. how can they not notice when your petty bickering is part of the group gatherings? how can they not notice when you weren't rolling your eyes anymore everytime that satoru’s opening his mouth?
“what the hell is wrong with the two of you? did you fight?” it was suguru who broke the ice.
can you blame them? they can't take this weird shit that’s happening, whatever it is.
“huh?” you looked up from your phone, “fight? who?”
“don't play dumb.” shoko says, “you and satoru. did you two fight?”
huh, fight. more like, did you two have sex a week ago and it has been awkward ever since? yeah, more like that. you glance at satoru and he looks at you knowingly, just waiting for whatever you're going to say.
you chuckled awkwardly, “we didn't. i just don't like talking to him, you know.”
and before they could probe even further, you stood up. “i’m heading to the store, do you guys want anything?”
they just raised their brows at you and when they all looked at satoru, he just shrugged his shoulders.
“nothing? okay.”
“i’m coming with you.”
and that made them more confused because why the hell would satoru go with you, just the two of you, alone? but they just shrugged it off, and you two walked out of suguru’s condo unit.
you don't even know why he would go with you. it’s true that you haven't talked since, but you figure that there’s nothing to talk about because it’s never going to happen again. it’s just a one time thing.
“huh.” you heard him say. you stopped walking and glanced back at him.
“what?”
“you don't like talking to me, but you just like sticking your tongue down my throat?”
you cannot believe this.
you wanna smack that grin right off his face.
“you’re so fucking annoying!” you marched towards the elevator as fast as you could but somehow he just caught up on you.
“hey. i’m sorry, okay. i’ll stop.” he said and reached for your arm, “YN.”
“what? what the fuck do you want?”
“i just want to talk.” you scoff, the elevator opens and you walk in. “can we please just talk?”
“then talk.” you crossed your arm, still avoiding his gaze. you don't know what you're feeling and you don't know how to react, maybe that’s why you’re acting out right now.
it wasn't supposed to be this way, you were supposed to be just friends.
he was supposed to be just your friend who annoys you every now and then with his antics. “how can we talk if you’re not looking at me?”
“just talk—”
he pressed the emergency stop button and now, great, you’re stuck with him. “what’d you do that for?”
“i just want to make sure you’re okay with what happened. and i’m sorry if that made you feel uncomfortable in any way—”
“stop.” you looked at him, “i’m okay. and i think we both wanted that to happen, you don't need to say sorry. i just want to go back to the way it was, okay? it’s not going to happen again, so…”
“okay.” he simply answered, he pressed the button again and just backed up. the silence envelopes the two of you as you wait for the elevator to reach the ground floor.
you sighed a relief when you heard the ding! but before it opens, satoru says something before walking past you.
“except, i don't want things to go back the way it was.”
now, why the hell would he say that?
#satoru gojo#gojo x you#gojo x reader#gojo x yn#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x yn#gojo satoru x you#jjk x you#jjk x yn#gojo x y/n#jjk fluff#jjk angst#jjk smut#jjk x y/n
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Just found your blog and LOVE your bts headcanons so much… after having watched Are You Sure?!, I need all your NSFW headcanons for OT7 as your boyfriend… please please please 🔥
Random NSFW Headcanons
Ot7 x Reader
Summary: Random spicy headcanons about the members
Warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, unprotected sex(don’t do this), breeding kinks, mentions of edging, oral(m. & f. receiving), bondage, sensory deprivation, dom/sub dynamics, somnophilia, voyeurism, idk there’s a bunch of stuff lol
A/N: You want my hcs? I’ll give ‘em, hehehe😈 Hope you like them!
Masterlist
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Jin:
Okay, I’m gonna make some of y’all real happy by saying, although I still think he’s mostly switch/sub leaning, he does have a dom streak in him. Like as much as he loves letting you lead him like a puppy on a leash(sometimes literally), nothing quite gets him off the same as taking control and pounding into you until you’re his empty headed baby, only able to whimper is his name.
He’s also a big fan of sensory deprivation, both giving and receiving. Blindfolds, handcuffs, etc. He loves the heightened sensitivity that they create, turning even the lightest touches insanely intense.
Has a major thing for cumming in you that it’s bordering on a breeding kink. Like tell him that you want him to cum in you, and he’ll propose on the spot💍
Yoongi:
He’s definitely into bondage and shibari(he’s been tied up/handcuffed wayy too many times in music videos to not be, lol) tho it would take a bit of coaxing to get him to admit it. There’s just something about trying out different knots and restraint styles, both on him and you, that intrigues and excites him.
Lowkey into angry sex, but not when he’s angry with you. It’s more those days when he comes home frustrated from the studio and he just wants to scream, so he makes it his mission to make you scream instead, hehe.
Has recorded himself getting off for you and thought about sneaking it into the background sounds of one of his Agust D tracks(might have actually done it, but he won’t admit it bc he’s a menace and likes to fuck with your head, so you’re just sat listening to every little detail on his demos, lol)
Hobi:
This boy is a certifiable freak, you cannot convince me otherwise. Like except for a relatively small list of hard no’s, he’s open to playing around and testing out pretty much any sort of kink/scenario that you might be interested in.
Lowkey very into the idea of watching you fuck one of his friends rapline whats up?, guiding them on just how to touch you, watching the way your face scrunches up in pleasure, just to turn around and fuck you into oblivion afterwards.
Man adores having his head between your thighs and actively begs you to ride his face. And don’t even think of arguing that you’re too heavy or whatever, bc he’ll spend the next hour worshiping your body and showering you with so much praise that you won’t be able to think, let alone remember any of your insecurities🫠
Namjoon:
Although we’ve established he’s definitely more of a daddy dom, he definitely has a weakness for you taking the lead or being on top(“pro rider, hohohoho rider” I had to, I'm sorry). Something about him being under you, watching the way your body moves on top of his, feeling the way you take him so perfectly, just makes his brain go hazy🤤
Idk if he’s fully aware that it’s a kink/thing, but he’s definitely into temperature play. Ice cubes, hot wax, even just blowing cool air over his skin makes him tingly in all the right ways.
He loves to tease you at the worst moments. Like you could be on phone with a friend or whoever, and he’ll let his hands start to ghost along your arms, down your sides, across your chest, between your thighs… seeing just how long it takes before your voice and focus start to waver, quickly hanging up and giving him your full attention
Jimin:
*cough*ropebunny*cough* Sorry, what?
No but fr, he loves being tied up in different pretty styles of shibari, but he treats it like an art form, with different silk ropes and ribbons. He wants to feel pretty and treasured, caressed with soft voices and sweet words, regardless of if you’re teasing and edging him to tears.
Lowkey into semi-public sex, teasing you at dinner with his friends with his hand creeping along your thigh under the table till you’re squirming and begging him to find an excuse for you both to be excused for a minute. Dude will fully have you shaking and seeing stars and then walk out of the bathroom like nothing happened.
Definitely the biggest fan of aftercare out of all the members, like he treats it as more of a sensual spa night for the two of you; candlelit baths together, gentle massages to work out any tense muscles, cuddling in bed that might turn into cockwarming or a very sleepy round two...
Taehyung:
Definitely into taking photos of the two of you, both on his phone and on his retro film cameras. Man turned his guest room into his own studio/darkroom and learned how to develop film by himself so that no one else but you would see his artwork.
Loses his goddamn mind every time you go down on him. Like if you ever wanna make his mind go completely blank, all you have to do is let him feel your warm, wet mouth close around his length, and he’s absolute putty in your hands.
Feel like he’s very into lingerie, both for you and himself. He loves feeling like a pretty present for you to open and play with, and vice versa. You literally came home on your birthday to him waiting for you in some pretty little silk number with a bow on his head as your gift.
Jungkook:
Although I’ve said before he’s a dom leaning switch, when he subs, he lets go completely. He loves letting his mind shut off and being at your mercy, letting you take control and turning him into a needy whining mess.
For the similar reason, he has a major dumbifacation kink, both giving and receiving. He loves the idea of being fucked to the point that your mind goes completely blank and all you can think and focus on is how you make each other feel.
Definitely has a thing for somnophilia, again both giving and receiving. The thought of touching and teasing each other, your bodies reacting purely out of instinct, seeing how long it takes for you to wake up so that you can fuck each other properly, the whole thing makes him crazy. His favorite way to wake up, 5 stars, highly recommend🤭
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @universal-travel-er @k4ngelz
#bts x reader#bts x y/n#bts requests#bts smut#bts headcanons#bts reaction#bts reactions#bts scenarios#seokjin x reader#seokjin x y/n#yoongi x y/n#yoongi x reader#hoseok x y/n#hoseok x reader#namjoon x y/n#namjoon x reader#jimin x y/n#jimin x reader#taehyung x y/n#taehyung x reader#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x reader#7ndipity
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(Hi, so this is in Jason’s POV with GN!reader. I hope you enjoy… this is my first time actually writing Jason so yay. Um warnings include allusion to potential suicide at the end, and reader becomes an aunt/uncle in one of the letters. Other then that it’s just Jason dealing with emotions 🙃)
The night was quiet except for the police sirens echoing throughout the city. The night was so quiet that I decided I would take off the helmet and be alone with my thoughts. A dangerous concept that I never really allowed myself to divulge into.
As I rode through the streets, letting my bike take me wherever it wanted, all my thoughts seemed to continuously circle back to them. Their laughter, their smile, all the small things that we did together before… I shook my head slightly, increasing the revs, it doesn’t matter now. They’ve moved on, they’ve forgotten me. And, it’s probably for the best.
I tried to think of anyone else, anything else. The lastest drug traffic, what black mask was up too. Anything. The hurt of being forgotten clawed at my heart, tearing its way into my chest. Tears filled my vision and I pulled off the road. Kicking the kickstand and turning off my bike, I practically through my helmet off. Inhaling and exhaling deep breaths, my body ragged with emotion of my past life. My life before what he turned me into.
I looked up and around at where I was. Freezing, I saw the overgrown rusted sign reading ‘Gotham Cemetery’. Well, I suppose I couldn’t have stayed away forever. Sighing, I made the choice to visit my grave. Trudging along the unkept, loose gravel pathway, hands in my pockets and jacket zipped up, I walked towards the barren area of my grave.
I stopped in my tracks, someone was there. Was that… are they at my grave? Faint sniffles and talking could be heard, but I couldn’t make any of it out. I side stepped to a pillar of a gravestone, hiding behind it. I don’t know exactly why I did that, I suppose I wanted to see what this person was going to do without scaring them off. I watched from the distance, as the mysterious person placed something down, a hoodie concealing their features. I continued to watch them as they stood up. As they turned to walk away, a glimpse of moonlight struck their features.
“Y/N,” I whispered. They were here… they were visiting my grave. I- I wasn’t forgotten. I nearly slapped myself for even thinking that they could have forgotten me. Never cared for me. They were too kind for that, too thoughtful, too loving…
I watched as they walked away, hands in their pockets. As they exited the cemetery, I ran wandered over there.
There it is. ‘Jason Peter Todd’ ‘A Good Soldier’.
But below the ‘heartfelt’ writing, was a seemed to be fresh bunch of red roses and a sturdy looking box, a metal box that appeared to be waterproof. Looking around the grave yard for anyone, I opened the box. Inside was piles upon piles of letters. Each addressed to… me.
So of course I did the respectful thing and opened all of them. One by one. Reading all of them.
“To my dearest Jason,
I miss you so much. Not a day nor a second goes by where I do not think about you. Now does it result in my crying most of the day, yes. But I’m okay with that. If I could trade all my tears, all my book collections, all my memories before you just to bring you back to me, I would. You were are the dearest thing in the world to me, my most perfect boy, and nothing can ever change that.
I love you.
Yours forever,
Y/N”
Tears pricked my eyes as I closed the letter just to open another one.
“To my darling Jason,
I went to school today. I haven’t been for a while because of… well, your departure. But I went today! The classes were boring, English made me think of you. Our friends say I’m not my usual self, but who can blame me. I only lost you 2 months ago. The wound is still fresh. But I know you would want me to continue school, get an education in this world, to take care of my self. It will be hard, but I know it will be worth it in the end. I’m looking forward to seeing you again, someday.
I love you.
Yours forever,
Y/N”
Each letter recited their day to me. It was like I was there, having them come home to me and telling me every little thing they did that day. Like I was watching them do it. A smile was plaster on my face as tears were streaming down my face. I barely noticed except for the few drops that landed on the paper. I was so incredibly happy, yet so incredibly sad. They didn’t forget me, they love me. Anger tore through me, I can’t believe that fucker took me away from them. But I continue reading. New emotions tearing through me with each day or week that I read. New boyfriend? Instant no, turns out that they broke up after a week. Good, still single then.
A twinge of guilt hit me as I though that as I closed the letter. They should be happy. They deserve to be happy, I shouldn’t be happy that a relationship didn’t work out because it wasn’t with me.
I continued on reading all night and into the early morning.
“To the love of my life that will forever have my heart,
I became an aunt/uncle (I’m sorry I don’t know a gender neutral term 😭) today!! I have a beautiful nephew named Ben. I’m so happy, he’s so cute and already curious for the world. He reminds me of you actually. I was a crying mess when I held him in my arms for the first time. My sister is so happy but recovering from the birth. I wish you could meet him. As I wish on every single shooting star I see, somehow wishing you back into existence with me. To have everything how it should be. You and me together.
I love you.
Yours forever,
Y/N”
As the sun’s rays started to bless the dark Gotham sky, glistening on my tear streaked face and soppy grin. I came to the last letter. The letter that they just put here today, or I suppose yesterday now.
“To my precious boy,
I love you with all my heart, and I will never stop. But times are getting hard and all I want in life is to see you again. I know it’s bad. I know I should go talk to someone, but non of them understand. Except for Dick, I see him every fortnight when he comes up to Gotham from Bludhaven. I don’t long for anything on this earth anymore than I long for your arms around me again. Your scent to envelope me again. All your clothes have lost your scent, your room in the manor is losing it too.
No one understands me like you do Jay. Every new relationship that my friends nudge me towards fail because I’m looking for you. Your caring nature, your love for classic literature, your passion for fighting for those that can’t fight for themselves. I miss you too much, and I have tried so hard these past 2 years… I know you must be disappointed in me. But you’ve surely seen me struggle these past years without you.
I love you so so much, I hope you can forgive me when we meet again very soon.
Yours forever,
Y/N”
My eyes widened as I finished the letter. My brain short circuited, not computing what I just read. They were- no I can’t let that happen. I shoved the letter back into the box with the others and ran to my bike.
No one could save me. But I damn well as going to save them.
Please Y/N, I love you too. Every wish you made has come true. I’m here now, just wait a little longer. I memorised their current address from 2 of the letters they had written. I didn’t care for the road rules, the street signs, the speed limits. I was getting them before we had a reverse Romeo and Juliet.
jason todd x reader where the reader still presumes he’s dead and visits his grave every week to give him a letter because they used to communicate through letters for fun to the point where his grave has boxes of letters. meanwhile, jason thinks reader forgot about him until he visits his own grave to see reader dropping off another letter and after they leave he takes the time to read each letter they’ve left since he died and gets emotional. okay, goodnight !
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something like love
part - 2
pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd
word count - 5.3k
c/w - language, slight angst if you squint, emetephobia warning
a/n - hi!! it’s odd for me to post two days in a row, so try not to get used to it! i just already had this written and wanted to share it so baddd. hope yall enjoy! also, this is unedited so once again, im begging, lmk if there’s any mistakes. and ofc tell me what you think!!
To be honest, Azzi hadn’t really known what to expect when they put their plan in motion. She and Paige had gone over the logistics, sure, but they’d only really skimmed over how they’d act in public, and whether they’d hold hands, and what kind of flirty things they’d say to each other. Azzi sort of regrets her decision to let Paige lead the way, because that makes her feel like she’s going into this blind, with no idea of how Paige is going to act when they’re together now. No idea of how things are going to change.
It is only the morning after their movie night, and here is what Azzi has learned so far:
For one, Paige doesn’t actually seem to be that big on hand-holding. The only time she held Azzi’s hand last night was when she led her to the doorway once the night was over, waving their joined hands goodbye to their friends.
Paige does, however, seem to be big on basically everything else.
Once the girls were done gushing and celebrating and asking (very invasive) questions, they’d all decided on some horror movie they’d seen the trailer for. Azzi hates horror movies and she guesses this is probably the reason why Paige advocated so hard to watch one. Because as soon as they turned the lights off and the scary intro music started, Paige wrapped her arm around Azzi’s shoulders, pulling her flush against her side. They stayed this way for around ten minutes before Paige claimed she had to use the restroom, but before she left, she kissed Azzi’s head and mumbled, “Don’t get too scared while I’m gone, baby,” into her ear. Azzi had swallowed thickly and nodded, and pretended not to notice Jana wiggling her eyebrows at her.
When the first real jumpscare happened, and Azzi screamed along with a few of the other girls, Paige chuckled quietly and leaned down to whisper, “You’re such a baby about this kinda stuff, Az.” Azzi had reacted how she normally would, slapping Paige on the arm and rolling her eyes, defending herself with a, “Shut up, I know you’re scared, too.” But what wasn’t normal was the way Paige fondly shook her head and nuzzled her cheek with her nose before pressing a kiss there, and then leaned back up to pull Azzi into her side once more, this time protectively. Azzi swore she could hear her own heart racing for a solid five minutes afterwards. It didn’t help that KK had looked back at them and said, “Aw, y’all grossing me out with how cute you are,” before turning back to the movie. Paige had snickered. Azzi had taken a deep breath, which did nothing to help with her composure.
Almost an hour into the movie, Paige rested her hand on Azzi’s thigh and squeezed, and she didn’t give Azzi any time to tame the fire in her belly before leaning into her ear once more and whispering, “You’re so stiff. You gotta chill,” and so, tamping down the need to cross her legs, Azzi’d obeyed and leaned her head on Paige’s shoulder.
At some point or another, she must’ve fallen asleep there, because all she remembers after that is a gentle pressure on her shoulder, jostling her softly, and a voice from her dreams saying, “Az, it’s late, we gotta go. Time to wake up, baby,” and Azzi opened her eyes to find Paige sitting beside her, giving her this look that Azzi had only ever caught glimpses of, and it was so soft she had to shut her eyes again.
“Thought we were sleeping over,” Azzi mumbled, stretching and then turning onto her side, realizing vaguely that somebody must’ve thrown a blanket over her.
“Nah, I figured we better sleep in an actual bed tonight.” Paige stroked back a strand of Azzi’s hair with incredible tenderness before taking her by the waist and hefting her into a sitting position. “C’mon. I’ll take you to mine, okay?”
Azzi had nodded sleepily, and had let Paige say all their goodnights while she hung off her arm with lidded eyes. Even in her half-sleep state, she didn’t miss the way the girls elbowed each other and gave knowing glances.
Now, Azzi stares at Paige, who lays sleeping just next to her, hair all splayed out and mouth hanging open. Azzi smiles softly at her. She and Paige have slept in the same bed hundreds—maybe thousands—of times, but this is different, because Azzi is allowing herself to pretend that it is. She imagines reaching out and waking Paige the same way Paige woke her last night, gently and lovingly, and then sharing a lazy morning together as a couple where they joke about morning breath and talk about their plans and hold each other.
But Paige grumbles, then shifts and blinks her eyes open, rubbing them a little before finding Azzi laying next to her. She smiles, but it’s not the same smile from last night—it’s not that tender, adoring smile, but rather the one Azzi is used to—the wide, toothy, beautiful but friendly one. “Oh, hey. Morning.”
“Morning,” Azzi mumbles, her indulgent fantasy broken, and she reminds herself just how careful she’ll have to be while she and Paige are doing this. She cannot allow herself too many delusions, cannot let her imagination run wild with the idea that their act is real. She cannot let herself get burned by this.
“You kept stealing the blankets last night.”
Azzi lies onto her back to avoid eye contact, staring up at the ceiling. “No, Paige, you were taking up the entire bed.”
“Cap,” Paige says, shoving her shoulder. Rough, friendly. Sisterly.
It’s silent for a second and then Paige turns onto her side. “Hey.” Azzi can feel her eyes burning into the side of her head. “We did pretty good last night, yeah? We seemed super in love and shit?”
Azzi doesn’t chance a glance over, staring stubbornly at the ceiling. “Yeah, P,” she agrees. “We did.”
——————————————
Finals come far too fast.
The last month of school is always hectic, and this year has been no different—Azzi’s spent the vast majority of her time studying, drinking her nostalgia away with friends, and then more studying on top of that.
Oh, and pretending to be in a committed relationship with Paige. That too.
Some days are easier than others—it’s not like they’re being forced to undress each other in front of an audience or anything. They haven’t even had to utilize pet names much. But it’s still…different. So different. Paige was touchy-feely with Azzi even before they started ‘dating’, so now, if they ever sit more than an inch apart or walk somewhere without wrapping their arms around each other, they get strange glances from their friends. A couple mornings ago, they were so hungover that they forgot about their whole act, and when they’d stumbled out of Paige’s room and began making breakfast without so much as a word to each other, KK had abrasively asked if their was ‘trouble in paradise’. Paige was all over her the rest of the day. After two weeks, Azzi is starting to get used to it.
At least they haven’t had to kiss. They haven’t even discussed it, and Azzi has been specifically avoiding that topic of conversation. She knows herself well enough to know that she can’t kiss her best friend and act normal about it.
Later, Azzi will curse herself for thinking this without knocking on wood after.
“So, we all know the rules of the game?”
“KK—“
“Girl, just answer the question!”
A pause, and then a bored chorus of yes’es.
“Yay!” With a big, tipsy smile on her face, KK places the empty beer bottle in the middle of the circle.
Paige groans and rests her head on Azzi’s shoulder. “KK, this is so fuckin’ lame.”
“For real!” Ice says from a few spots down. “We’re not in middle school.”
KK waves them off. “Girl, boo. Y’all are the lame ones. This‘ll be so much fun, you’ll be thanking me after.”
Everyone starts to groan in response to this, but Caroline, ever the mom, speaks up. “C’mon, guys, just play KK’s game.”
Unable to really say no to Caroline, the group shuts up. KK smiles excitedly. “Now that’s what I like to hear! Thank you, Carol.”
Azzi brings her hand up to rest on Paige’s back, and she’s proud that it almost comes naturally now, like her body knows that’s just what it’s supposed to do.
Nika breaks the peace a moment later with another teasing comment, which prompts KK to yell at her, and then everyone is talking amongst themselves, the room buzzing with late-night, drunk-college-students-before-finals energy.
Paige sighs deeply into Azzi’s shoulder, and she loves that she’s the only one who can hear it, who can feel it against her skin.
Putting her lips to Paige’s hair, Azzi mutters, “Wanna go downstairs?”
Downstairs is where Paige’s dorm is. Azzi’s is the floor they’re on now, and it’d probably make more sense to sleep there for the night. But Paige’s dorm, and more specifically, her bedroom, is where they’ve been gravitating to the past couple weeks. Azzi has always loved it there, the smell of Paige filling the very air, photos of the two of them on her nightstand, purple bedding so very Paige. And now it’s become something of a sanctuary, a way to escape their facade which can become cumbersome.
Usually, they’d be in bed by now, because Azzi likes to sleep early and Paige hasn’t been wanting to stay up without her. But Paige shakes her head at the question.
“No?” Azzi asks. “You’re not tired?”
“Mm, nah.” Paige glances up at her. “You?”
Azzi licks her lips. She swears Paige’s eyes track the movement, and linger for just a moment too long. She clears her throat. “Same.”
“Aight,” Paige says, turning back to her shoulder. “We can leave after this, ma.”
“Hey, lovebirds,” KK says, barely giving Azzi any time to shudder at Paige’s nickname. “Pay attention. You’re going first.”
Everybody’s looking directly at Azzi, and she shakes her head awkwardly. “Oh, no, I don’t think—“
“If you don’t wanna play, you gotta take a shot every round.”
Paige lifts her head up. “KK, that’s dumb. She doesn’t have to play if she don’t want to.”
KK smiles deviously. Paige flips her off, but Azzi pulls her hand down, rolling her eyes. “Okay, whatever.” She leans over into the middle of the circle, making Paige lean off of her, and spins the beer bottle.
It spins only twice before slowing down and, blessedly, landing on Aubrey.
The girls make a range of noises, mostly giggles, and then Aubrey leans into the circle to meet Azzi in the middle, smiling.
Once she gets close enough, Azzi whispers, “Liyah good with this?”
Aubrey raises her eyebrows. “I’on think it’s my girl we gotta be worried about.”
Confused, Azzi glances over her shoulder, and sees Paige staring intensely at them, bottom lip pulled between her teeth. The blank look on her usually lively face scares Azzi a little bit. She turns back to Aubrey, who also looks a little afraid.
“You’re good,” Azzi reassures her, because she is. Aubrey doesn’t know that Paige is just acting, because she’s the possessive type and of course, if she and Azzi were really dating, she’d be jealous even of her own teammates. But Azzi can’t tell Aubrey this, so instead, she leans forward and kisses her.
Aubrey lets out a noise, surprised, and it makes Azzi laugh because she probably should’ve warned her she was going in. The kiss can’t last more than two seconds before there’s a hand fisting Azzi’s shirt, pulling her back, and Paige is saying, “Alright, alright,” quite gruffly.
Azzi’s stomach does flips at Paige’s rough voice, but she’s tipsy (maybe a little bit more than tipsy) so she leans up to nuzzle Paige’s cheek rather than shying away from her. “Somebody’s jealous.”
“Yeah,” Paige says, “no one should be up on you like that.” And they’re obviously acting—but when Azzi pulls away to look at her, there’s something on her face that isn’t quite fake enough.
But then she’s smiling and saying, “Stop tryna steal my girl, Aubrey,” and Azzi’s heart contracts like it always does when Paige says stuff like this nowadays.
Across the circle, Aubrey takes her spin. It lands on Ice, and Ice is considerably more drunk than any of them, so the whole thing is pretty slobbery. The next spin—Nika—is mostly the same.
It goes like that for a while, a few people taking shots instead of kissing, and a few others taking shots for the hell of it. The bottle lands on Azzi once again and she fills her shot glass to the brim before taking it, needing to dull the feeling of Paige’s hand wrapped possessively around her waist.
By the time the bottle lands on Paige, they’re all pretty damn drunk.
Azzi knows it’s just a game, but she’s always hated seeing Paige with other people, and now is no different. Ashlynn laughs, because this whole thing is pretty fucking funny, but Azzi can’t help but sulk, glad to be under the guise of a relationship—glad she doesn’t have to hide her feelings for awhile.
Before leaning into the circle, Paige looks at Azzi and says, all lighthearted and buzzed, “Don’t pout at me, baby.”
There’s that roughness again, that tone in the back of her throat, and Azzi squirms when Paige presses a wet kiss to her cheek.
Paige and Ashlynn kiss, but they both laugh kind of hysterically so their teeth are pretty much just clashing, and when they’re done Paige wraps an arm around Azzi’s shoulders and spins for herself. And it spins, and spins, and spins, so many times Azzi gets dizzy watching it—
It gets to Amari, and it slows.
It passes by Inês, barely moving anymore.
The neck gets back to Paige, and Azzi wonders for one drunk second, What if it lands on Paige and she has to kiss herself? and she doesn’t even have the time to laugh at how ridiculous that is before the bottle stops, pointing almost accusingly at her.
The girls all cheer, oohing and laughing.
Paige laughs too, easy and casual because they’re supposed to be a couple, they’re supposed to have done this a thousand times, it’s supposed to be normal, normal, Azzi, act normal.
They should have known this would be inevitable.
Paige turns to her, still smiling but with a concerned, almost imperceptible furrow between her brow. Azzi obviously can’t refuse this kiss, can’t take a shot rather than kiss her girlfriend in front of all these people who know she’s her girlfriend.
So instead, she wills herself to nod and then she takes Paige by the collar and kisses her.
Strangely enough, the first thing Azzi takes note of isn’t actually the way Paige’s lips feel touching hers for the first time, or the fact that their teammates are watching them, wolf-whistling and giggling amongst each other.
No, instead, it’s the way Paige smells—the fact that the hair tickling Azzi’s cheek is sweet, vanilla, which means she washed her hair today. And it’s the way her hands cup Azzi’s jaw, cradling her like they do this all the time, thumbs rubbing gently against her cheekbones in a gesture soft enough to make Azzi gasp into her mouth.
She only snaps into it and really realizes, oh, Paige is actually kissing me right now, when Paige’s tongue teases against Azzi’s bottom lip. And it’s just for a second, Paige pulling away fast enough that Azzi thinks she must have imagined it, but it leaves her lip wet.
After that, Paige sits back, smiling at her but there’s that furrow between her brow again, imperceptible to anyone who doesn’t know her as well as Azzi does, and she’s stroking Azzi’s cheek like a tick now, like she’s trying to figure something out.
The moment ends when the girls all clap like white people on a plane, and Azzi isn’t even paying attention to the teasing and cooing, because she’s too busy staring at Paige, wondering what she’s thinking about right now, wondering what about that kiss made her feel so damn…safe.
Whenever she thought about her first kiss with Paige, she expected butterflies, light-headedness—maybe even nausea. Comfort, the thing you feel when you come home to your small town after a semester away—that was not expected.
Paige blinks, that strange look on her face disappearing, and Azzi realizes that she’s still holding onto the front of her shirt. She pushes her away teasingly, and Paige laughs, wrapping an arm around her as she turns to the girls, waving off their teasing remarks, and as Azzi watches her profile, feels the wetness on her bottom lip cool, she knows that she is falling and thinks nobody will be there to catch her when she reaches the bottom.
——————————————
The next morning, Azzi wakes up and immediately regrets it.
Paige’s window blanket must’ve fallen down last night, because the sun is shining through the room and it is…loud. She rolls onto her side to try and get away from it, and then that problem is fixed but another rises in the form of an abrupt tummyache. And Azzi prides herself on being a strong person, but as soon as she gets a tummyache it’s over for her.
Also, maybe the loud sun problem isn’t as fixed as she thought because her head is beginning to pound. She can feel it beating against her skull in time with the beating of her heart, and somehow that gives her a feeling akin to motion sickness, which makes her tummy hurt worse. She is probably going to throw up very soon, and should get up so she doesn’t do it all over Paige’s bed, but that’s where the third problem arises: she is so comfy. How can she ever be expected to leave this bed when she’s so goddamn comfy?
“Yo, are you gonna puke?”
Azzi groans. “Probably.”
Azzi’s facing away, so she can’t see what Paige’s doing, but she hears sheets rustle and then a pair of footsteps on the hardwood floor. Soon enough, Paige is standing in front of her, holding a hand out. “Come on, I’ll help you.”
Azzi looks up, and that makes her stomach turn again, the back of her neck burning. “I don’t want to.”
“I’m gonna kill you if you puke on my bed. Like, actually.”
If Azzi threw up on Paige’s bed, Paige would probably usher her to the bathroom, give her some water, and clean the sheets without complaining about it until a few days later. But Azzi still doesn’t think that’d be a good idea, so she sits herself up and is about to accept Paige’s hand when she realizes this is much more urgent than she thought. Almost as soon as her feet hit solid ground, the bile rises in her throat at an alarming rate and she has to run across the hall. She doesn’t make it to the toilet but manages the bathtub, which is arguably better.
Paige is there once she’s done, tying her hair up into a ponytail. “That it?”
Azzi spits. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Okay. Lemme grab you some pepto or somethin’. Hang tight.”
Once Paige walks away, Azzi wipes her mouth and all at once, like the tide coming in, remembers how the lips now coated in spit and bile were yesterday on Paige’s.
Of course, she also remembers the pet names, the affection, the flash of jealousy in Paige’s eyes that may or may not have been there. But it’s the kiss, the wonderful, tipsy, warm kiss that wrestles its way to the forefront of her pounding head and stays there, the memory replaying quite a few times before Paige comes back with pepto bismol and water. “Here.”
Azzi looks disdainfully at the bright pink medicine. “I don’t think I can swallow that, P.”
“Whoa, pause.“
“Chill,” Azzi says, rolling her eyes. “Gimme that.” she takes them from Paige’s hand and manages to swallow one before throwing up again, this time with Paige by her side to hold onto her while her shoulders heave.
“Aw,” Paige tuts sympathetically when she’s done. “My lil lightweight.”
Azzi rests her head on the edge of the tub while Paige turns on the tap, washing the bile away.
Azzi lifts her head enough to see Paige sit against the wall across from her. “Feel okay now?”
Her throat burns, and her tummy hurts, and throwing up in front of the love of your life is not a glamorous experience. But with Paige here with her, taking care of her, she doesn’t feel too bad.
If it only weren’t for that really good fucking kiss.
Azzi nods weakly even though she doesn’t know the answer, because saying ‘I hate the fact that we kissed last night, not because I regret it—I’ve been wanting to do it since we were kids in high school—but because now I’m worried I won’t be able to keep my feelings hidden for much longer which is worrisome because we haven’t even left for Montana yet, and also I wonder what this means for us and our fake relationship, because if it means kissing will become a normal thing I don’t know if I can do this’ would probably be weird.
“K, good. Thanks for not puking in my bed.”
Azzi smiles weakly at her, mouth still tasting like bile. How could Paige ever return her feelings when she has seen her like this a hundred other times?
Paige reaches a socked toe out to nudge Azzi’s calf. “Okay, you said you feel better, but you still look kinda…green.”
Azzi looks Paige in the eye, and manages maybe a second of eye contact before she’s thinking about how they looked at each other just like this after they kissed last night, and there it goes, the moment playing in her head once and then again. She can’t help but groan and rest her burning cheek to the cool tub.
And the universe should go to hell for making them best friends because Paige gets it instantly. “Oh, this is about last night.”
Suddenly the cool tub isn’t helping anymore. Azzi weakly shakes her head, but she knows the truth is showing plainly on her face.
“Yeah, whatever.” Paige pushes herself off the wall, wiggling her eyebrows. Azzi senses trouble. “It was a good kiss, huh?”
Azzi balks, then tries to reel it in. “That’s not…Paige…”
“Hold up,” Paige says, looking genuinely a little confused. “You don’t think I’m a good kisser?”
“No, no, but I just…” how can Paige talk about this so casually, like it was meaningless, something to be joked about? Azzi envies her lack of feelings. “Don’t you think we should talk about it?”
“Uh, I mean…” Paige scratches the side of her neck, and it occurs to Azzi that the bathroom isn’t an amazing place to talk about this. “Yeah, sure. If you want to.”
Not exactly an encouraging answer. Azzi strives on nonetheless. “It was our first kiss.”
“Yeah. Guess we coulda planned it better.”
“Yeah, I guess…” Azzi trails off. “Don't you think it was sort of…weird?”
Paige frowns again. “Damn! If you didn’t like the kiss just say that.”
Azzi hopes she can blame her flushed cheeks on the hangover. “P, I don’t mean it like that. It’s just that you’re my best friend—“
“That’s me.” Paige smiles proudly. It’s too fucking cute.
“And,” Azzi says pointedly, “I feel like, weird, about kissing you.”
She waits for Paige to answer, but Paige just stares, apparently waiting for her, too. Azzi sighs. “I worry we won’t be able to fake it well enough.”
“We did fine last night, didn’t we?”
“We were drunk last night.”
Paige makes a face. “I guess. But I feel like we’d do good even if we were sober, y’know?” She leans her head back against the wall. “And it’s not like kissing’s a big deal, anyway.”
Azzi’s eyes drop down to the tiled floor, cold against the thin material of her sleep pants. “Maybe not to you,” she mumbles.
There’s a shuffling, and then Paige is closer than before, nudging Azzi’s knee with her own. “Yeah, you’re right, that’s my bad.” There’s a silence, both of them thinking, and Azzi wonders if maybe Paige is thinking the same thing she is. About how their kiss last night felt…different. Different than a kiss between two friends, different than the other kisses with other people felt. And the look Paige gave her afterward…
But then Paige says, “Wanna practice, ma?” and Azzi was a fool to ever think they’d be on the same track.
Azzi splutters for a moment. “Practice?”
“Yeah. To prepare, in case we have to do it again,” Paige says casually, like it’s no big deal at all.
“I don’t think that’s…that’s not—“ Azzi cuts herself off on a sigh. Then she looks at Paige, really looks at her, and that’s when she catches the glint in Paige’s eyes, and she realizes—she’s messing with her. She’s taking advantage of Azzi’s obvious shyness about this whole thing.
What a little shithead.
Making a quick decision, Azzi leans forward a little bit, glancing down, then back up, looking at Paige through her lashes before she licks her lip.
Paige clocks it, tracks it with her eyes. Just like last night.
Azzi swallows down the nervousness and wills herself to be normal, reminds herself that this is Paige, and she has no reason to sink into her shell when she has the opportunity to take the upper hand.
“Okay,” Azzi says after a moment.
Paige’s eyes flit up, away from her lips. “Okay?”
Azzi nods, then lifts her hand to place over Paige’s knee, bare in her sleep shorts, before she dances her fingers delicately up her thigh. “You wanna practice kissing me, Paige?”
Paige swallows thickly. And then she nods.
Okay. So. That’s…unexpected.
Paige wants to kiss her.
That would explain the lip-ogling.
Azzi has half a mind to make the biggest mistake of her life and close the gap between them, but then she remembers they are sitting on the bathroom floor, and, ew, she just threw up. Twice.
Azzi manages what she hopes is a cocky smirk and leans away. “Well, too bad. Sick, remember?”
Paige’s eyes widen, like she’s just been snapped out of a trance. “Oh. Yeah.” She backs off then, relief coursing through Azzi, before she’s standing up and dusting off her shorts as she reaches down to help Azzi up. “You good to stand?”
Ok. So they’re not talking about it. Cool.
Azzi nods and takes Paige’s hand, her palm warm against her own as their fingers entangle for the two seconds it takes to go from sitting to standing, feeling a little dizzy from the altitude once she’s up.
Paige frowns at her. “You still look kinda messed up. How ‘bout you lay down. I can go get us some food? Gotta fuel up for all the studying today.”
Azzi groans, palming her face. “No, I forgot about finals.”
“Azzi Fudd? Forgetting about finals?” Paige teases, leading them out of the bathroom. “Last night really fucked you up, huh?”
“Yeah,” Azzi mumbles. “It was definitely the alcohol that did it.”
Paige glances back at her but doesn’t say anything, sitting Azzi down on the edge of the bed once they get there. “Okay, sit here and chill out. Lemme know if you need to puke again.” She smiles down at her, and Azzi smiles weakly back, before the older girl is turning on her heel and walking out of the room, closing the door gently behind her. Another door opens somewhere down the hall and then one of the girls’ voices mixes in with Paige’s as the roommates converse too quietly for Azzi to really hear. She sighs and flops down on the bed, hands wringing nervously at her stomach as she stares at the ceiling.
She has really gotten herself into some shit this time.
Her phone starts buzzing from its place on the nightstand, and Azzi straightens up to check it, her mother’s face flashing on the screen. Anxiety coils in Azzi’s belly at the sight of her mother’s contact, which usually brings her so much comfort.
Ever since she and Paige ‘came out’ to their friends, Azzi has been avoiding her mother like the plague. She knows she should just come out and tell Katie, but she’s not sure what she should tell her.
Azzi knows that Katie would disapprove if she found out about their little scheme, the woman avidly against lying. But if Azzi were to tell Katie what they’ve been telling everyone else—that they are a disgustingly happy, perfectly real couple—she’d be lying to her mother. And with Katie being her main confidante throughout her entire life, Azzi’s never really been good at that. She hasn’t gotten enough practice.
Not without guilt, Azzi lets it go to voicemail, holding her phone close to her chest afterwards, lying back down. She feels nauseous again at just the thought of lying to her mom. But if she came clean, would Katie make her feel guilty about it? Urge her to tell the truth, even if it meant not helping Paige like she promised she would?
Just as Azzi’s about to head back to the bathroom, Paige comes to the bedroom, leaning through the doorframe. “Toast’s almost done, Az.”
Azzi nods but doesn’t move. Paige lingers, sensing that Azzi’s going to say something.
Finally, after some internal debate, Azzi says, “What do you think I should tell my mom?”
Paige frowns. “I thought you talked to her already.”
Azzi shrugs. “We haven’t called. I’ve been avoiding her, but I feel bad about it.”
Paige bites her lip like she always does when she’s thinking, and it eases some of the tension out of Azzi’s shoulders, softening her around the edges. She leans against the doorframe, looking right at Azzi. “Well, what do you wanna do?”
Azzi shrugs helplessly.
Paige scrunches her nose (very cutely) and says, “Honestly, I don’t think we should tell her. Not yet, at least.”
Azzi heaves out a breath, not liking the sound of that answer. “You think?”
“Yeah. Have you met your mom?” Paige smiles fondly. “Lady can’t keep a secret for shit.”
“You’re right.” Azzi hadn’t thought of that, the fact her mom’s the town gossip. “She’d probably have the truth out before we could even finish telling her.”
Paige nods in agreement. “Exactly. Plus, it’s easier to tell everyone the same story, right?”
“I guess.” Unsteady, Azzi pushes herself up from the bed, walking over to Paige slowly. “You still sure this is a good idea?”
“Even if I wasn’t,” Paige says, “we’re too deep in it now.”
Azzi looks up at her solemnly. “The point of no return.”
“Uh-huh.” Paige sighs out a breath, looking almost regretfully at the girl in front of her. “Sorry again, about asking you to do this. I know it’s kinda a whole thing now.”
Azzi’s shaking her head before Paige can even finish. “I already told you, it’s fine. We go to Montana soon, and before we know it we’ll be done.” Azzi’s stomach sort of sinks at the thought. No more flirting, no more cheek-kissing, no more Paige protectively slinging an arm around her shoulder while they’re in public like she’s telling everyone Azzi’s her’s.
Azzi manages what she hopes is an optimistic smile anyway. “Let’s go eat breakfast. And then I’ll call my mom back and we can tell her together?”
Almost as if reading her mind, Paige easily wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close as she leads her down the hallway. “Alright, ma. Sounds good to me.”
@smiths-fan--13 @ch12334
#paige bueckers#azzi fudd#pazzi fics#pazzi#fake dating#pazzi crumbs#paige buckets#paige x azzi#uconn wbb#wbb#wcbb#the people's princess
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how likely are the Slytherin boys to be toxic?
Characters: Lorenzo Berkshire, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Tom Riddle, Theodore Nott, Mattheo Riddle
Cw: Toxic relationships of course
- ♡ 𝒟𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑜 𝑀𝒶𝓁𝒻𝑜𝓎 ( 6.5/10 )
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Draco is definitely an asshole in the earlier movies and i don’t feel like his attitude would just magically change to drastically. He’s still stuck up.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . I feel like he’d be more on the possessive side of abusive. he can be sweet and kind to you, but at the same time he gives you almost no freedom and tries controlling your everyday.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He’ll demand to know where you are 24/7 and expects you to tell him everything. He gives death glares to any of your guy friends and so on.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . And don’t get me started on manipulation. he’s the KING of manipulation. he’d make you think that all your worries are just in your head. Or he’d make you think it’s your fault and you’re the problem.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He’d act all sweet and make little jokes that you’re to oblivious to pick up on.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “I own you, don’t i sweetheart?
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “All i do is try to care for you and you get all stuck up with me. Now is that fair dear? All i am is concerned.”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Why is everything always my fault? can’t you understand that there’s the possibility of a war right around the corner?”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “You get with me knowing who i am, then try to change who i am. You don’t see a problem with that?”
୨୧
- ♡ 𝐿𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓏𝑜 𝐵𝑒𝓇𝓀𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓇𝑒 ( 9/10 )
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . My baby Lorenzo is definitely bipolar. You’ll have a few months, or days, or weeks, of peace.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ‘The calm before the storm’
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Lorenzo’s the mind fuck type. He’d most likely only ever lay hands on you in bed, in a kinky way. He just love’s to let out random shit that gets you mad.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Also a possessive type. But unlike Draco, he doesn’t care about your self respect. Threaten to break up with him? one of your nudes with just your face blurred out is sent ‘round the school. Or maybe he’ll pay some random guy to pretend to be into you just to fuck with you mentally.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . During arguments it’s insult galore.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Now he’s not always just calm, if he feels you’re gone for good he pulls out the manipulation.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He’ll find a way to ruin every aspect of your love life while manipulating you into thinking he’s changed, he’ll show up to your house with flowers and ‘sad’ eyes: “I’m so sorry baby, please, let’s start over. I love you so much and i just don’t know how to express it, i promise i’ll do better. I’d do anything for you love.”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “You’re such a sweetheart hun,”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Break up with me? hm… didn’t you say that ten different times in the past, but you’re still here?”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “If you’re gonna act like a slut i might as well treat you like one.”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Really? well i thought you would’ve loved for them to see you half naked with how much you were eating up their attention last night.”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Please sweetie, You know i was just mad. Nobody loves you like i do.”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “We’re bad for eachother, that’s what make us.. well, us.”
୨୧
- ♡ 𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓈𝑒 𝒵𝒶𝒷𝒾𝓃𝒾 ( 4/10 )
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . My mans mother raised him right.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He’s such a gentlemen.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He may be a little passive aggressive when upset but overall he knows how to keep his cool. His cold exterior would warm up when it comes to a women, not wanting to make them uncomfortable or feel like a nuisance.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . But just because he respects women doesn’t mean he’s a push over, if you’re a bitch he’ll probably just leave you.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . The most he’ll be ‘toxic’ is just sometimes being a little over jealous and sometimes little insults fall past his lips.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . The best example being when you finally saw one of your long-term friends and you three had dinner (courtesy of Blaise) just for you guys to get in the car after and he’s all moody. He can be a bit of a drama queen at times.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Honestly he’s just so loving most of the time <3
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “You ok?”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Well if you like him so much maybe you should go home with him instead?”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “I’m not mad just… disappointed.”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Perhaps we should both just leave each other alone for awhile and calm down.”
୨୧
- ♡ 𝒯𝑜𝓂 𝑅𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒 ( 10/10 )
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Is anyone surprised? It’s Tom Riddle we’re talking about.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He likes a woman that’ll have an attitude with others, but you better get rid of that attitude when talking to him.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He’s a silent guy, so it’s easy to take advantage of that and flirt with other guys etc. But there’ll be hell to pay after.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He’s not the type to beg for you to stay with him if you want to break up, because he simply won’t let you go. if he has to tie you down to the bed he will.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He doesn’t care much for your comfort. He’s willing to use you for his plans if he feels it’ll be beneficial. If a guys acting like a creep he still expects you to keep up your act.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Depending on your house, he won’t bother to hide his disgust in himself that he fell for you (especially if you’re a hufflepuff). He won’t even be ashamed about hiding your relationship while the two of you are still at Hogwarts.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He fucks with you by how neutral he always seems. He can say that most hurtful shit to you but have little emotion, as if he was just stating a casual everyday fact.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “You can and Will take it.”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “But i didn’t ask you if you wanted to, did i? now go.”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “You should be glad i’ve kept you alive. If it weren’t for the fact you’re useful, You would be long dead, ‘hufflepuff’.” (because we all know Mr. Tom Riddle doesn’t admit to loving someone)
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Seems you’ve gotten a little carried away,” *Definitely grabbing you by your face aggressively.* “You can talk to others that way but don’t think you can speak to me, your superior, that way. Be grateful for once.”
୨୧
- ♡ 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝑜𝒹𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝓉 ( 5.5/10 )
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Theo doesn’t necessarily seem like the intentionally toxic type, but he’s like one of those guys that are too ‘nonchalant’.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . I feel like he’d unintentionally come off as bored or cold when you two would be doing something or you try talking to him. Or when you’re trying to get on his nerves but he has almost no reaction.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He’d unintentionally make you doubt your two’s relationship even if he’s happy with it. Which, from personal experience, fucking sucks.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . But if you tried talking to him i feel it may depend on his mood, but overall i think he’d take what you said to heart. However still struggle to really change.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . At the end of the day it’s on your preference and if you can deal with a relationship like that or not.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Hah ha very funny,”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “I’m going out with Blaise, maybe later?”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Yeah it’s cool.”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “C’mon sweetheart, you know it’s not like that.”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “I’ll work on it, promise.”
୨୧
- ♡ 𝑀𝒶𝓉𝓉𝒽𝑒𝑜 𝑅𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒 ( 5/10 )
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Mattheo isn’t the type to really be toxic when in a relationship. He’s the type of guy that wouldn’t get in a relationship with someone he doesn’t like. If he just thinks they’re hot he’d hook up with them, no need to get in some committed relationship.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Although he is cocky, and his cocky attitude tends to strain some of his relationships. Though it’s all in light fun, not everyone can deal with it.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . He also has a bad habit of not working on his negative traits. Which would also strain your relationship. When you mention any of his negative traits(But can this man have any?) he’d get defensive instead of trying to understand where you’re coming from.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . So like Theo, i feel like it’d depend on your personality and what bothers you. Overall he’d be a pretty lovey boyfriend.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “I would be happy too. Dating *The* Mattheo riddle,”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “C’mon you know you love me,”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . *In some goofy mocking tone* “Why so serious?”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “Seriously? you’re being overdramatic and you know it.”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . “That’s whats got your panties in such a twist? seriously?”
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Written by ankoluvly, 2024 on tumblr!
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Just wanted to write and post something quickly because i feel shitty not posting anything.
₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . I wrote this before bed then lazily proof-read it in the morning, so sorry about spelling mistakes.
#harry potter#tumblr fyp#fypシ#harry potter blog#harry potter blurb#harry potter imagine#harry potter x you#౨ৎblurb#enzobby ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི#lorenzo berkshire x you#theodore nott x reader#draco malfoy x you#mattheo x you#tom riddle x reader#blaise zabini x reader#lorenzo berkshire#enzo berkshire#mattheo riddle#theodore nott#draco malfoy#blaise zabini#harry potter fanfiction#slytherin boys#theodore nott fanfiction#tom riddle x you#mattheo riddle imagine#draco malfoy blurb
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All of It <3
MDNI 18+
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x F!Reader
Summary: After years of pining and obsessing over you Daryl finally works up the courage to tell you how he feels.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Language, P in V, Fingering, Oral (F! Receiving), Size kink if you squint
*Knock Knock*
No answer.
*Knock Knock*
Not a single sound.
You slowly turn the doorknob into Daryl’s room and invite yourself in like it’s your second home. Walking in you hear the shower running in the bathroom, no matter. You walk through his living space observing whatever projects he has scattered across his work bench and…. *thump*. Two paws are suddenly on your back and a snout dug into your side.
“Hey Dog, my sweet boy whatcha doin!” You say excitedly to the furry companion Daryl has grown attached to over the years. You head to the couch and cuddle with Dog waiting on Daryl to finish his shower leaning your head back and enjoying the mundane moment.
Soon the water shuts off and the familiar rummaging of drawers and doors opening and closing fill the room. Daryl emerges sliding down the rest of his shirt
“Make sure to get behind the ears?” you tease him, and he looks over to you with his half smile “No, the water gets back there anyway so it’s fine, you ready to go?” he says reaching for his vest. “I hope you’re joking right? You know you have to actually scrub back there, right? I mean all that hair on your head things could be living back there Daryl you really chancing that in this day and age?” you continue badgering him till you’re outside getting on his bike.
“Clearly I scrub behind my ears damn ya think I’m that dirty?” Daryl says shaking his head at you as he throws his leg over the bike.
“I can honestly say I haven’t had the pleasure of finding out how dirty you are Dixon.” You tease him with a smirk on your face, he turns around to spare you a glance and you give him a wink. “Stop it weirdo” his cheeks turn the lightest shade of pink as he looks forward and gets you both on your way.
Every morning it was like this the two of you would go out for a hunt and scout the woods around the community trying to find whatever supplies you could for the people back home. This was the best part of your day being able to spend time out in your element while also spending time with Daryl. Life felt at peace for the first time in a long time.
“Whatta ya thinkin?” Daryl asks as you both track through the woods following the game you shot down. “Just how much I enjoy this, being out here, being able to provide and help out, being with you.” Daryl stops and stares at you like you just told him your biggest secret. “What? It’s true, this is the best part of my day, and I get to spend it with you making it even better.” You try explaining the simplicity of what you said while trying to decipher the puzzled look plastered on Daryl’s face. “Why are you looking at me like that??” you say trying to figure out what the hell he’s thinking now.
Out of nowhere Daryl’s in your space bringing his hands up to cup your face as he leans down and kisses you. At first your eyes are open in shock but as the moment progresses your lids close and you start kissing back. The kiss is slow and passionate but becomes hot and needy as Daryl slides his tongue across your bottom lip begging for entry. You happily oblige and a small whimper leaves your mouth as your tongues tangle together. You both pull away trying to catch your breath feeling dizzy. Daryl looks down at you “I’m sorry I just I dunno I, you were…. *Sigh*… I like you. You’re the best part of my day.” A smile breaks out across your face at his confession and your heart flutters. “I like you too.” You lean up to give him a chaste kiss before breaking the contact completely as much as you didn’t want to “c’mon we’re gonna lose that pig to some walkers if you don’t keep it in your pants.” You laugh as you walk ahead.
“And then he kissed me!” you hide your face in your palms to try and make the red go away.
“He kissed you AND said he liked you? When’s the wedding?” Carol says chuckling at your bashfulness.
“I’m serious I really like him but he’s my best friend I don’t want to screw it up.”
“You won’t” Carol reassures you and pats your back. “You will regret it though if you don’t even give yourself a chance to explore what this could be and every moment counts so quite worrying, get up and go find Daryl.” Her pats have now turned to light shoves as she pushes you in the direction of his house. “Okay! Okay! I’m going but if this goes wrong just remember you have to deal with me a lot more!” you shout down the street at her “I’ll take my chances!” she yells back smiling at you.
Here you were again
*Knock Kn-
The door swings open and Darryl is standing in front of you in only his jeans while shaking a towel on his head trying to dry his hair. Without even saying a word he moves aside to let you in, and you fall onto the couch letting out a dramatic sigh. “What a day huh?” you stare up at the ceiling trying to avoid staring at Daryl's naked torso, the perfect contour of his muscles that travel all the way to his massive...
“Hey, did ya hear me?” Daryl says snapping his fingers in front of your face. “Huh? What? Yeah, of course you we’re saying something about that thing for the other thing.” You tried to play it off but lying has never been your strong suit and he just lets out a sigh.
Daryl walks over to the couch and lifts your legs to sit down and brings them back up to rest over his lap looking at the ceiling now too. “You gonna be weird now?” your gaze drifts down to look at him and he’s already looking at you. “I’m not being weird I was just thinking.” Your eyes betray you as they fall to Daryl's lips, scanning his chest following his happy trail to the top of his jeans
“Ya just did it again! Ya know if this thang right here is gonna work, ya can’t just use me for my body.” Daryl jokes as he motions between the two of you. “What are you even going on about right now? I wasn’t even looking at you my god Daryl!” the embarrassment evident in your voice. “You were totally checking me out.” He says as his hands graze up your leg and he begins to tower over you. “So, what if I was?” your voice barley above a whisper as you’re both face to face with one another. “Like I said sweetheart, you can’t just use me for my body. I have feelings ya know.” Your cheeks are now beat red and there’s nowhere to hide from his teasing.
“Stop being an ass. I clearly like you for you dummy.” You bring up your arms to his chest in a sad excuse to try and push him off you, but he just laughs and holds your hands putting them above your head and intertwining your fingers in his. “I know I just like to see you get red as a damn tomato it’s cute.” His eyes were filled with playfulness trying to get any reaction out of you that he could as he chuckled at your embarrassed state. Suddenly you lean up and kiss Daryl, making the laughs quite down and now his face is just as red as yours. “Now who’s a tomato?” you let out your own light chuckle now and lean up to do it again and again and again till Daryl is hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “Who knew a couple kisses would take you down.” you smile. Daryl picks his head up to look at you. “Who’s being the ass now?” he locks his eyes in on you again.
“At least I’m not a tomato”
“I’d rather be a tomato than an ass”
“Yeah, that does seem to be the better option.” You say giggling together now. Daryl’s gaze intensifies as he keeps staring from your eyes to your lips like he’s conflicted on the next move to make. Finally, he dips his head down and lightly kisses you again gently moving his lips across yours. You squeeze his hands as the kiss deepens and out of instinct you roll your hips up to meet with Daryl’s earning a soft moan from his chest.
“Ya really want this. All of it?” You know what he means. Daryl hasn’t always been the best person with the best past and he often feels he isn’t worthy of much, especially you. You’re perfect for him, everything about you makes his heart ache. From the first day Daryl met you at the quarry, he knew he was a goner, but the feeling of inadequacy kept him from pursuing you as anything other than a friend. “Yeah, I do. I’m all in Dixon. You’re stuck with me now.”
“You’ve been stuck with me from the start doll.” Daryl leans back down to capture your lips with his and the rolling of your hips starts again. He slowly moves down your jawline and neck finding that sweet spot that has you moaning out his name. He untangles your hands, bringing his down to caress the curves of your body until he’s tugging at the hem of your shirt.
You both lean up as he takes it off throwing it on his floor and continuing to kiss you with every ounce of passion he has while he skillfully removes your bra with one hand. You break the kiss “Ah impressive, thought you’d fumble with that for a minute.” You giggle again. God, he loves the sound it just encourages him to see how many other sounds he’s able to pull out of you. “Pretty good with my hands doll.” He says leaning you both down and he gives another kiss on the lips before he’s moving down your body following the valley of your breast making sure to pay attention to each of your pebbled nipples. He latches onto one and lightly pinches the other between his fingers.
The sound of you moaning his name becoming a drug for him as he moves down further leaving kisses on your hip bones and tummy above your jeans. Taking them off gently followed by your panties Daryl is face to face with your dripping core. He can’t stop staring at the sight until his eyes flicker up at you trying to close your legs on him. “You’re a tomato again.” He laughs at you “Well you’re starring what do you expect!” you huff out in defeat “Just relax baby ima make you feel good promise.” He says as he spreads your legs holding them open by wrapping his large arms around your thighs.
“Ah fuck Daryl” you moan as he licks right through your sopping slit and circles his tongue around your clit. Damit, he knew now he could never go another day without tasting you for the rest of his life. After that Daryl dove in eating like it was his last meal on earth you were the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. You were so wet, and he was so messy making it the perfect combination for urging the tight feeling in your tummy to snap. “I’m gonna ah, fuc- Daryl, close ugh I’m so close please please don’t stop fuck!” Your begging and whining go straight to his cock straining on the confines of his jeans. Focusing on sucking in your clit he unwraps one of your legs and brings his hand to your core. Giving you a single finger has you arching your back and begging him for a release. “Daryl fuck please baby please.” You’re barely holding on “Let go ma it’s okay. I got you c’mon give it to me.” After his words of encouragement and returning to his assault on your clit the band in your belly finally snaps and Daryl is lapping up every last drop you have to give.
He keeps going and your hands tangle in his hair trying to push his head away from the overstimulation. He finally lets up and crashes his lips into you in a hungry kiss letting you taste yourself on his tongue. Daryl stands up undoing his belt making the anticipation run straight to your core. Removing his jeans and boxers his cock springs free his red angry tip leaking precum slapping against his abs. He’s so fucking big. Honestly you weren’t sure what to expect but now you have a tinge of nervousness attempting to figure out how he'll fit inside you.
“Don’t worry sweetheart I’ll go slow, okay?” as if he senses your uneasiness, he crawls back on top of you giving you another loving kiss. You start to push his chest, and he lifts his head confused.
“Lay back.” You whisper against his lips and Daryl sits back against the couch his legs spread out. You get up swinging a leg over straddling his lap with his cock nestled between the two of you.
“Don’t hurt yourself doll whatta doin?” he says as you start aligning his cock with you dripping entrance.
“You’ve been doing all the work let me make you feel good too.” He looks at you with so much adoration in his eyes. With your hands gripping his shoulders you slowly start taking in his cock inch by inch with tears forming in your eyes as you finally reach the bottom. He stops you from moving by wrapping his arms around you and pulling you flush to his chest allowing you to adjust to his size. You both stay holding each other his cock twitching against your walls.
“As much as it turns me on with you cryin over my cock like that I waited too long for this. Don’t worry about me let me make you feel good baby.” Daryl brings you back down to the couch and slowly starts rocking his hips into you with your legs wrapped around his waist. “Fuck you feel so fuckin good doll. Never gonna let you go fuck. You’re so fucking perfect, fucking beautiful, god damnit.” Daryl continues to praise you as his pace becomes faster and his strokes start getting deeper. You’re moaning and crying out his name like a mantra you’ve never felt so much pleasure before. The added love and adoration he was pouring into you only fueled the satisfaction.
He keeps hitting that deep spot in your body just right and it has you teetering on the edge again begging for him to keep going. You cry out as he lifts your legs over his shoulders, hitting deeper than before. “Taking me so damn good doll, doing s-so fuckin good” He stutters as his hips move fast chasing both your highs. He reaches his hand down to rub fast tight circles against your clit pushing you over the edge. “Cum- Im cumm- Daryl fuck!”
“Cum on me baby c’mon, show me it’s all yours mmake a – fuck, mess on me swee-god damnit- theart.” Your release triggers Darryl’s, with his hips stuttering and hot ropes of his cum filling you up to the brim. He rides both of your highs out till his hips stop and he collapses onto of you but holding his weight to keep from crushing you. Both of you are panting like you’ve just finished running a marathon. Daryl rolls over, dragging you on top of him holding you in his arms like if he lets go, you’d disappear. Both of your faces are hidden in each other’s necks.
“I love you. I always have and I always will. It’s okay if you don’t but I just wanted ta let ya know that I love you so god damn much.” Daryl breaks the silence with his confession and tears spring to your eyes again and you bring your hands up to lift his face seeing him eye to eye.
“I love you too Daryl.” Your voice sounds so soft and sweet to his ears and hearing you say those words sends his heart thumping in his ears. “You’re still the tomato if you’re wondering” you say with a little smirk playing on your lips. “Okay ass.” he says, making you both laugh.
After cleaning up and settling into bed you drifted off to sleep curled into Daryl's chest as he lightly played with your hair while Dog slept by your feet. Daryl smiled to himself and kissed the top of your head thinking of all the moments to come that would be just like this one.
#twd#the walking dead#daryl dixon#daryl smut#daryl x reader#daryl twd#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#twd daryl dixon#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x reader smut#twd fanfiction
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✧ smut. ❀ fluff. ☆ angst.
*:・゚✧*:・゚ outer banks masterlist *:・゚✧*:・゚
↳ jj maybank… (25)
- jj’s reaction to you flinching ☆
♡ jj is shocked when he finds out you flinched because of him, and even worse when he realized you thought he would actually hit you.
- crumbled cookies ☆
♡ you decide it would be a good surprise to stop by jjs house quickly to drop off some of your homemade cookies, since you believe he isn’t feeling the best. then, unexpectedly jj's dad comes home with an unwelcoming embrace, which ruins the surprise.
- crumbled cookies pt 2 ☆
♡ after jj finds out his dad was the reason for your black eye, he had to confront him.
- seashells ❀
♡ jj sees you at the beach, but he’s too nervous to interact with you. you notice him behind you, and you invite him to join you. he’s excited to hang with you, as well as find beautiful shells hidden in the sand!
- waves of heat ❀
♡ wearing jjs shirt while on the hms pogue and him begging you to go swimming.
- you’re mine ❀
♡ at the beach a random tourist had something to say about you, and he touched you when you didn’t want him too. jealousy sends jj wild, and he’s pissed, but he can’t even act on it.
- hatred runs out ❀
♡ you are a kook, you were trying to befriend the pogues as they made you happier than you had been in months. the only downside, none of them were quite welcoming, besides jj.
- filled ✧
♡ jj smut where he has a size kink.
- scared for you ☆
♡ when a fight breaks out between you and jj, he can’t help but be petty and ignore you. this causes you to be left alone at a kegger.
- the deep end ☆
♡ jj somehow finds everything you do annoying to the point he criticizes everything you do. john b thinks of a plan that will ensure his two friends will befriend each other. it was working at first, until it wasn’t.
- forceful ☆
♡ barry continuously flirts and sexualizes you, and when jj finds out, it isn’t pretty.
- shorty ❀
♡ your boyfriend and the pogues love picking on you for your height.
- replaced chickens ☆
♡ after sarah replaced you and jj, the two of you were determined to confront john b. if you both could find the guts to do so.
- one sided hatred ❀
♡ when john b exposes that he isn’t too fond of you, jj takes total offense to that, annoyed john b could even think about you in a bad manner.
- embarrassed ☆
♡ you rant to an old friend, complaining that it is sometimes embarrassing to be with jj and he ends up finding out. but what he learns isn’t the truth, it is actually the farthest from it.
- hair “prank” ❀
♡ jj's lousy joke about shaving his hair off upsets you more than he expected it would.
- i’m making him watch ✧
♡ jj is jealous about a tourist hitting on you, he fucks you good to make sure you don´t forget why you are with him.
- scars ☆
♡ jj comes to you after a blow out with his father. you clean his bruises as well as clean his awful mindset he has on life.
- hair tech ❀
♡ your hair wasn’t looking the way you wanted, so jj offered to try and learn to fix it. with the newly learned hair techniques, came the exposure of feelings. having to avoid telling john b, he conveniently walks in during the worst time.
- mirror sex ✧
♡ jj fucks you while he makes you watch his reflection.
- nerves ❀
♡ jj is too nervous around you, he struggles to tell you how he really feels.
- wet dreams ✧
♡ jj and you cuddle after a fun day of swimming with your friends. once sleep takes over, jjs dream runs wild, and with you in his bed, how could he keep the naughty thoughts at bay?
- ruined reputation ☆
♡ “i don’t want to date someone who’s embarrassed to be seen with me jj.” jj is originally embarrassed for others to know that you two are dating. he fears what his friends would think. but is his reputation more important than him keeping you?
- wasted ☆
♡ “you were supposed to be my soulmate, but you threw it all away so you could screw some girl?” in which jj makes a grave mistake cheating on you.
- sweet dreams ✧
♡ jj fucks you while you are asleep.
…
↳ john b… (3)
- inexpressible feelings ❀
♡ drunk words are sober thoughts, are they not? john b drunkenly asks you on a date, since that’s the only time he has the guts to talk to you.
- struggling ❀
♡ john b is struggling, and he finds himself venting to you about his lost father.
- tripped ❀
♡ john b embarrasses himself in front of you and is trying to get past it.
…
↳ pope heyward… (5)
- small details ❀
♡ “i never thought you’d pay attention to me in that way.” when pope accidentally reveals to you, that he does indeed, pay attention to the little things you do.
- avoidable jealousy ❀
♡ pope mistakes the bond you have with jj as something more than friends. this influences him into becoming jealous of something that wasn't happening.
- deserve better ✧
♡ after kiara told you she openly plays with pope’s feelings, there’s only so much you can do before you blow up on her.
- hopeless romantic ❀
♡ you visit pope at work, as often as you can. you help him, listen to him, flirt with him, and match his energy. his feelings for you are undeniable.
- party moves ❀
♡ it’s a boring party until pope shows up, and the atmosphere makes it easy to express your true feelings.
…
↳ rafe cameron… (17)
- act like it, get treated like it ✧
♡ rafe cameron doing what he does best.
- patience can be rewarding ✧
♡ you were confused as to why rafe was being extra clingy today. whether he meant to do it on purpose, or he was unintentionally obsessing over you, you decided to make a deal with him. if he could leave you alone, and undistracted long enough for you to finish your project, then you’ll make him feel good.
- elderly advice ❀
♡ when you work at a golf course as a cart girl, you are happy because that means you’ll be seeing rafe more often. but there’s a downside when you realize that kelce and topper will see you more often as well, and with seeing them more often, you also get to hear their harsh words.
- bittersweet ☆
♡ you went to a local party by the beach when rafes unstable side peeked out. jj maybank finds you alone and decides to talk to you. rafe gets possessive and upset, thinking that jj was hitting on you.
- are you busy? ✧
♡ cockwarming rafe since he’s too busy to pay any attention to you, because he’s busy doing work for his father.
- crashing ☆
♡ rafe is waiting for you to meet him at figure 8, but he’ll be waiting awhile as you got in a tragic car accident, the other vehicle being driven by his father.
- malice compliments ❀
♡ rafe tries to flirt with you, but you believe it is malice and that he is pulling a lame prank on you.
- crystal clear ❀
♡ rafe cameron found out you were hiding crystals in his room, car, and pockets. he goes to topper to see if he knew what was going on, and after topper explained what it meant, he confronts you.
- shark bite ☆
♡ what was once a fun day on the beach filled with surfing, quickly became a bloody and painful nightmare.
- cheerleader ❀
♡ rafe was intrigued by you, he wanted to get to know you. he thought that task would be easy, but your distaste for him was apparent. despite the overwhelming amount of setbacks, he knew he would get you to crack.
- cheerleader two ✧
♡ the aftermath of rafe going to a football game for you and seeing you in a tight cheer outfit.
- wish you were sober ☆
♡ based on conan grays song, wish you were sober. in which watching after rafe becomes too tiring after he loses control again.
- surprise ❀
♡ throwing a surprise birthday party was definitely harder than you had expected, especially one for rafe.
- bonfire ☆
♡ rafe is overprotective of you at the bonfire and possessive!rafe doesn’t like the tourons staring at you.
- unfortunate events ☆
♡ rafe cameron is so overprotective, but that doesn’t stop him from putting you in harm's way. after reckless driving lands you in the hospital, your relationship is on the rocks.
- exposed ❀
♡ rafe sees a text from topper, exposing your little crush on him. at first you try to play it off, but you gain enough confidence to tell rafe about your feelings.
- promise ❀
♡ with matching halloween pajamas, you and your boyfriend are ready for some spooky movies.
…
↳ topper thornton… (2)
- sugar daddy ❀
♡ topper takes you shopping, something he didn’t think he was actually going to enjoy doing.
- realizations hit hard ❀
♡ topper tries to set you up with kelce, but he soon realizes he doesn’t want you to be with kelce. he wants you to be with him.
…
↳ sarah cameron… (5)
- girl that you love ☆
♡ when you accidentally read the situation wrong, and you expose yourself for liking sarah in a more than friendly way, she is quick to turn you down. “i’m sorry i gave you the wrong impression.” sarah isn’t gay, and she definitely doesn’t like you that way.
- lucky woman ❀
♡ sarah cameron finds out you have a crush on a girl, unbeknownst to her, she is that special lady. you know you can’t tell sarah about how you feel since she’s dating john b, so you have to quickly think of a crush that you can expose to sarah.
- secretly in love ❀
♡ a secret relationship between you and sarah, what could possibly go wrong?
- sunset confessions ❀
♡ all it took was one boat ride to change everything. when sarah cameron decides to tell you about her undeniable feelings, while the two of you watch the sunset.
- girl that you love pt 2 ❀
♡ after humiliating yourself after your confession to sarah, you find yourself comforted by kiara.
…
↳ the pogues… (1)
- life jackets ❀
♡ since you don’t know how to swim, you have to wear a life jacket. the pogues think it’s the funniest thing ever.
…
#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank outer banks#jj maybank fanfic#jj maybank x you#john b imagine#john b routledge#john b outer banks#john b x reader#john b obx story#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#the pogues x reader#pope heyward obx#pope heyward imagine#pope heyward fanfiction#pope heyward x reader#pope heyward x you#topper thornton fluff#topper thornton fanfic#topper thornton obx#topper thornton x reader#topper thornton#topper thornton story
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Gym Rat Miguel Part 16
content warning: angst, recreational drug use, mentions of food, 18+ so MDNI (not spoiling the positions this time, so you’ll just have to read and see)
word count: 8.2k (thank ya once again @slushycoookie 😚)
If you really love Xina as a character, then don't read this. Nothing crazy happens, it's just so far removed from her original character action-wise that you’ll definitely get angry. That's all. 🥸👍🏾
Prev | Next ✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist
GymRat!Miguel who should have taken the edible.
He held his head down, everything over the past years starting to click.
The touches, the stares, the treatment. Xina wasn’t just close to him because they were friends.
She was in love with him and he was too dumb to see it, too naïve to even think it was a possibility.
He takes a deep breath and looks down at his hands.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Xina speeds out. “Or maybe you can just let it sit with you.”
“Ok.”
Xina widens her eyes, “O-ok? What do you mean ok? Ok as in you…you like me back?”
“Ok as in I hear you. I understand.”
Xina nods, hand holding her elbow.
“And I’m sorry that so much happened to you. I wish you would have reached out. It sounds traumatizing and no one should have to go through that on their own.”
Xina waits, heart beating out of her chest.
“But?”
“But, it doesn’t excuse anything you’ve done to me. Not a single fucking thing.”
She opens her mouth, eyes burning and eyebrow pinched, “I-“
“-need to let me talk first,” Miguel finishes. “You know how much you mean to me, so you have to understand that what you did was so low, Xina. It hurt, genuinely.”
“I know.”
“You know and yet you continued. It’s funny because after you were being weird to my girlfriend the first time you met her, I still defended you. That’s how much I had faith in our friendship.”
Xina blinks rapidly, pulling her hair back.
“Now, I feel even more stupid because this,” Miguel pushes his hand in and out between himself and Xina, “looks exactly how she thought it was. But that’s what you wanted, right? You wanted her to feel like you were someone to look out for.”
Her lip wobbles, “For just a second, I was relieved. I was so relieved that someone finally fucking beat me to you. But then I saw how you looked at her and I, I felt something boil over.”
Miguel wanted to laugh in disbelief.
“Xina, that doesn’t make it ok for you to go in my phone, plot and scheme, then lie like you didn’t. When has that ever been right?”
“Miguel, I know that so please-“
“You don’t love me.”
Xina falters, a tear falling down her face. A light from a car outside brightens the room for just a second, and she sees Miguel give an unfamiliar look of disdain.
“Yes, I do. I do love you. How could you say that I don’t?”
“Because you really don’t,” Miguel pushed his hair off of his face, only for it to fall back in place. “Love isn’t seeing me happy and trying your best to ruin it. Love is not control. If this is what you do to me, I would hate to see what you’re willing to do to someone who wants to be yours.”
She squats, hands wiping away the sorrow on her face.
In the past, Miguel would have been at her side arms open for comfort, heart hurting to see her like this. Right now, he just wants to plead at your waist for forgiveness.
“I don’t really want to look at you right now. I think you should go.”
He starts to get up, tired.
“M-Miguel? I, I’m sorry.”
“Me too. About a lot of shit I need to fix. You have more than just me to own up to and whenever you’re ready to do that, let me know. Right now though? You can see your way out.”
“Miguel, just,” she grabs his arm. “If I- Do you-“ her quiet sobs rack through her body. “I don’t want to lose you. Y-you don’t have to like me back.”
He turns and grabs her arms softly, eyes going back and forth between hers.
“Go home, Xina.”
GymRat!Miguel who opens the door to a flustered Gabriel and a nonchalant Tempest sitting on the floor.
“It’s not what it looks like-”
“It’s exactly what it looks like,” Tempest cuts Gabriel off. She looks past Miguel to a mourning Xina. “C’mon, girl, I’ll walk you to the door.”
Miguel steps aside as Xina shuffles over. He does his best to ignore the last tug she gives his hoodie before she leaves.
GymRat!Miguel who crosses his arms as he looks at Gabriel.
“How much did you hear?”
“Enough to put a smile upon my face,” Gabriel grins. “It’s like watching your dreams come into fruition. I feel like I have enough adrenaline to run to New York and back, you know?”
“No, I don’t know. This isn’t funny, Gabri.”
“Uh,” Gabriel peers left and right. “It’s a little funny. To me.”
Miguel reaches into his pocket and threw the gummy into his mouth. The taste was interesting, to say the least.
“This is a good thing,” Gabriel tries again. “It’s one step closer to what you wanted, right?”
Miguel thought about you from last week.
He didn’t want you to look at him like that again.
“It is. I just don’t know how I let it get this far.”
Gabriel squeezes his shoulder with a pout.
“Because you’re an idiot, to be frank.”
The squawk that Gabriel lets out when Miguel hits him on the back echoes through the hallway.
GymRat!Miguel who goes back to his room to see a knocked out Lyla and Winston with a plate piled high with wings and yams.
“Yo,” he whispers, but his voice is still unbearably loud. “I think she’s trying to steal my fucking food.”
Miguel looked to Lyla who was folded over a beanbag, neck bent awkwardly. Her mouth was open and a little wet, but she was snoring up a storm.
“No, she’s not,” Miguel laughs. His friend's eyes are blown wide, horrified, like he’s in the middle of a haunted house.
Winston observes Lyla before turning back to Miguel, slow like he was made of wires and metal, “Don’t say shit to me when you’re next.”
GymRat!Miguel who shouldn’t have turned on your playlist as his limbs got heavier.
He was going to try and write something down in his journal, thoughts from before too much for his head.
It started with what just happened down the hallway. Was he right or wrong for what he said and what he did? Should he have done more?
Was it enough for you to see the truth?
You. You and everything you brought him. Your being, your emotions, you core, your love.
Now, he’s staring at the page full of your name alone scrawled across it with slow blinking eyes.
It feels like your hands are all over him and you’re whispering in his ears. You’re going through his hair from his scalp to his neck. Your tongue is hot on his skin, in his mouth. You taste like cinnamon and whipped cream. You’re pressing your chest against his and your heartbeats are becoming one.
His heartbeat.
Your heartbeat.
It’s sinking him. His heart is on the marked paper before him. It’s in red and graphite, smudged and darkened.
He’s falling. The clothes on him are rubbing against his bones. The chair under him is slipping from his grasp but he thinks you’ll catch him.
GymRat!Miguel who gasps for air as his back hits the cold metal of his desk chair.
Winston’s cackle refocuses his train of thought and he breathes in deep as he tries not to let you drown his thoughts again.
GymRat!Miguel who joins Winston on the floor to finish off the variety bag of takis.
Lyla shifts to a better position and Winston clutches his purple bag for dear life. Miguel laughs until he cries.
GymRat!Miguel who ends up on Gabriel’s fluffy rug, rubbing his hands over the fur like it’s a cat. Winston is bopping his head in the corner, music making him worry less about whether or not he’s being watched.
“Why is he so soft? What did you put on him?” Miguel asks.
Gabriel snickers as he watches him, “My feet.”
Miguel makes a face like a disgruntled cat.
“That’s fucking weird. Why would you ever do that? Is that why he smells lie that?”
“No, that’s your breath.”
Miguel gasps and covers his mouth, blowing straight through his fingers. He waits for a minute, then sniffs the air.
“You’re such a liar. It smells like apples. You need to be nicer to your rug, Gabri.”
A snap from above makes Miguel pose at the very last second. He thinks he’s posing at least. His smile is big but his eyes are closing every time the camera clicks and his peace sign is hidden somewhere in the fuzz of the rug.
“Say ‘party gal!’” Gabriel sang.
“I’m not at a party, nor am I a girl, so…no?” Miguel says with squinted eyes. “Why are you taking pictures of me?”
“Because you’re just so adorable that I have to share with your girlfriend.”
Miguel stops rubbing the rug and sits up, “Is she here? Where is she?”
Gabriel pushes him away with his foot.
“Chill out, Mig. I’m just sending her a video.”
“But,” Miguel stiffens. “It’s too dark in here. How is she supposed to see me?”
Gabriel looks at the several ambient lights his room is sporting then back to Miguel, “She can see it.”
“Was my shirt off in it? She likes it when my shirt is off.”
“I’m not filming your striptease, you hornball.”
“But Gabri-“
“No!”
GymRat!Miguel who snowballs his way through telling Gabriel his plans for when he visits New York for the next twenty minutes.
“And then,” he pauses and giggles like he’s holding the world’s greatest secret. “We go to the bodega. Ham and cheese. Orange drink. You know the one.”
Gabriel joins in his endless bubble of laughter, “Who taught you that?”
Miguel spaces out his giggles just enough to let your name fall through.
“Do you think she still loves me, Gabri? Because sometimes I get scared that she doesn’t.”
His brother sighed, head upside down as it hung off of his bed, “Yeah, I think so. It’s your first big fight, but what is love if not war?”
There’s a silence in the room.
Winston is giving a silent performance in the corner of the room now, his audience being Gabriel’s closet door of scarves and belts.
“War is what keeps humans apart,” Miguel mumbles.
“Uh oh,” Gabriel turns to look at him. “Don’t start this.”
“Statistically speaking, all first marriages have a 50% chance of surviving.”
“You just made that up.”
“No,” Miguel closes his eyes, hoping that would stop his million and one thoughts. “She could find another guy and last longer with him. It’s science. Proven.”
“You’re not even married.”
Miguel opens one eye and checks his empty left hand, “Holy shit you’re right.”
He starts to pat down his clothes, cotton pulling against his fingers.
“Where did it go? I just had it.”
Gabriel thought for a second.
“The Funyuns you just ate?”
Miguel starts to flip things over, papers and chip bags going everywhere.
He finds the bright yellow bag, opening it up and finding nothing. He turns it over and shakes it much to Gabriel’s annoyance who snatches it from his hands.
Miguel is about to cry until Gabriel throws another bag into his hands.
“Let’s switch topics,” Gabriel grumbles. “I feel like I’m watching a big ass baby.”
Miguel opens the bag and starts crunching.
“I think stars is such a good theme for the nursery. And penguins.”
“I’m turning on Spongebob.”
GymRat!Miguel who is out of his mind watching Squidward run around a blank screen.
The colors were there and now they’re not.
It does a number on him.
GymRat!Miguel who sits staring at Gabriel’s door. Watching. Waiting.
He said that you were coming around eventually.
It was sure taking you a long time to open the door.
GymRat!Miguel who is disappointed when Tempest and her pink-tipped locs bang the door open instead of you.
His slow turn and look of disappointment towards Gabriel is comical.
GymRat!Miguel who is guided back to his room by a more relaxed Tempest who asks Gabriel to distract Conchata.
“Did she say something?” Gabriel asks.
“No, but we need to act normal. She asked me some shit about some seasoning I used and I think dozed off mid-explanation. Can’t remember.”
GymRat!Miguel who finds a picture of you under his pillow right before he goes to sleep.
It’s a part of the polaroids you gave him last Christmas with your tank and panties.
He presses his lips against the film, eyes closing as he groans against it. The action repeats, his mind putting him in front of you.
A pain hits his hip, ache in his bones matching his heartbeat.
He looks down to a gray, metal hand covering him and screams.
Two of his friends jerk up from across the room while Winston throws a pillow at him.
“Shut the fuck up. I’m trying to sleep.”
Tempest squints as she removes her eye mask, “Why did you throw your arm at him?”
“He was making weird sounds,” Winston replies as if the answer was obvious.
GymRat!Miguel who wakes up to Tempest shaking him for dear life.
His eyelids are heavy and the sun peaking through the windows are bright.
His arm covers his eyes as he tries to block it, feelings of his muscles slowly coming back to him.
“C’mon, buddy. You feeling ok?”
Miguel only yawns and nods into the pillow.
“Need to pee? Feeling sick? I got some water right here.”
Miguel slowly sits up with his eyes closed, hair sticking up every which way. Tempest opens his hand and places a glass of water there, helping him guide it to his lips. One taste of the liquid and he’s gulping it down like he’s never drank before.
“What time is it?” he asks, throat dry.
“Noon,” Tempest takes the glass away. “You guys were sleeping like babies. Very cute.”
Memories of last night slowly come back.
He’s pretty sure he texted you a string of random things, but he doesn’t even know if it went through.
“Yeah, I know, I know. Come to the kitchen and eat some food.”
GymRat!Miguel who makes his friends promise to text him when they make it home.
Sure, they’ll probably be on the call tonight playing some game or watching obscure compilations, but he was nothing if not a worrier.
“And don’t forget to-“
“We know, dad,” they say in unison.
GymRat!Miguel who spends Thanksgiving near his grandma.
His mom is giving him sideways looks all day and he feels that something is coming.
GymRat!Miguel who watches his brother place his cousins in formation for a video for the nth time.
“It’s swing, back a-round, grab your pants, thumb up with ‘I’m cool’. Feet out and in at the same time then CIRCLE your arms really high. What is so hard to understand about that guys?”
He runs to his phone on the tripod.
“From the top!”
GymRat!Miguel who hides with his grandma in her bedroom as his mom starts to bark orders. She was doing a lot for someone who didn’t really celebrate Thanksgiving.
The two of them are watching some random sitcom under a giant quilt sharing coconut cookies that she snuck from the kitchen.
“¿Abuela?”
“¿Si nieto?”
“¿Alguna vez has experimentado un desamor?”
His grandmother looks up, chewing as she thought.
“Yes, but only for a short while. I didn’t really have the time to sit with my feelings.”
“But, what if you did? Does it feel as terrible as it sounds?”
“Sometimes. But we’re human. If you’ve put in effort to love, that means you can put effort into yourself to heal and grow.”
Her arms wrap around him and squeeze, kissing his cheek like he was still the chunky baby she met decades ago.
“Now, relax and watch these two teachers avoid love. Maybe you’ll learn something.”
GymRat!Miguel who is leaning on his grandma, cheek pressed against her chest, when Gabriel comes in to plop on the bed.
“Move over,” he whines to Miguel as he tries to push him away to be in the middle.
“I don’t wanna sit next to you. You’re disturbing my peace.”
“And you’re hogging Abuela.”
“Go to her other side!”
“But this side is already warm!”
“My daughter has raised two giant babies,” their grandmother laughs as she moves the blanket to let Gabriel into her other side. “What am I going to do with you two?”
GymRat!Miguel who was nearly asleep when George comes to get them to eat.
It’s deep in the evening and the crickets are loud outside of the window.
He and Gabriel pout, the darkness of the room and the smell of their grandmother’s perfume making them lethargic.
“Your cousins are going to eat up all of the empanadas if you don’t hurry up.”
Miguel perks up and stumbles out of the bed, foggy mind registering his willingness to stuff his face with doughy goodness.
“Like a moth to a flame,” Gabriel says as he helps his grandmother up.
GymRat!Miguel who is on his third or fourth plate, not that he’s really counting, when his mom does what she always does every holiday: annoy him.
“Mijo, have you checked on Xina today? I saw Tempest walk her out the other day. Was she doing alright?”
Miguel glances around the table, mouth full of turkey as he sees his family perk up.
“No, I haven’t,” he answers slowly. “I’ll see her next week. Probably.”
Conchata brings a cup to her mouth while giving him a miffed look.
“And you’re not worried about her? What’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing has gotten into me,” Miguel replies calmly. His relatives are staring at him like he’s grown two heads.
“Did you two fight?” one of his aunts asks.
Miguel didn’t understand how this was anyone else’s business, but from the looks of it, it seems that his mother has already told it.
“Can I just finish my food, please?”
His mother thumps her cup against the table with more force than necessary.
“You’re never going to find a suitable woman if you keep acting like this. I know you hurt her somehow and you need to fix it.”
“Ma,” Gabriel interrupts with a hushed tone. “Right here? At the table? Seriously?”
She ignores him and stares at Miguel, as it’s supposed to urge him to obey her. His appetite is long gone.
“I have a suitable woman-“
“Mijo, no. You have stars in your eyes. You’re young, so I know you can’t see it yet, but it’s almost time for you to start planning properly for the future. I can only let your playing go on for so much longer.”
Miguel stares at her, eyes not blinking once. Gabriel anxiously looks back and forth between them.
“Who is up for Abuela’s famous cake? Mm mm mm, I know I am!” he tries, only getting a small portion of the table to move.
Miguel gets up to follow them, plate in his hand heavy and half-eaten.
They’re back at square one.
He’s not sure how many more times he can restart.
GymRat!Miguel who texts you before he knocks out.
He stares at the blinking line, thinking of all that he wants to say, but not really knowing how to put it.
“Happy Thanksgiving mi luz”
“I miss you more than ever today”
“I miss you every day”
He stops himself and turns his phone off.
GymRat!Miguel who does a light jog Friday morning.
He’s been having far too many days of wallowing and feasting.
The November air wakes him up completely.
GymRat!Miguel who thinks he still has THC in his bloodstream when your name pops up on his screen as he’s checking his miles.
He opens it too fast, heart racing faster than what any exercise could do to him.
It’s a link to your calendar, blocks of blues and pinks covering the screen. He sees that your last final is next Thursday, and his plan is already in motion.
He hearts your text and stops himself from spamming you with emojis and pictures.
He’s ready to see you.
GymRat!Miguel who has never been more happy for his coding professor being a recluse and making their final submission online.
He knew for a fact Xina was definitely still processing everything. Quite frankly, he didn’t want to see her unless she was ready to apologize to you.
He tried not to stew on it, his mom’s insinuation putting a bad taste in his mouth.
He had finals to focus on and a girlfriend to win back so he pushed thoughts of crumbling friendship to the back of his mind.
GymRat!Miguel who sits in the hallway of the art building. It was becoming a familiar sight for someone who couldn’t draw a stick figure to save his life.
He waits for the studio door to open, leg bouncing involuntarily. He wasn’t sure when it would end, so he got there about thirty minutes after it started.
Maybe that was a bad idea, simply because he feels like he’s about to sweat out of the stupid button down and sweater he chose to wear. The thick knitting was starting to suffocate him.
Pulling at the chain around his neck, he wonders if he can appeal to you like he did around this time last year.
The door opens in the middle of his tenth time rehearsing what he was going to say. A few students walk out, arms full of canvases as they chat about whatever.
Miguel stands, big bouquet in his hands and heartbeat in his ear. The students notice him and shuffle out of his way as he heads towards the studio entrance.
GymRat!Miguel who spots you talking with a classmate.
You’re both bent over some, engrossed in conversation.
Miguel sees you laugh before you stand up straight. The guy next to you looks familiar.
He rises too, and his build and height become all of the focus. His hand lands on the middle on your back and slowly begins to fall down.
Miguel is building the formation of your name at the back of his tongue, anger climbing before he can really think about it.
You grab the guy’s arm and yank it off, a smack on his shoulder to follow.
Miguel stops himself with an ugly sound, alerting you both to turn and look at him.
GymRat!Miguel who hides the bouquet behind his back, not wanting you to see it yet. Not when your friend was making him shoot daggers with his eyes.
You walk over to him eyes curious, and Miguel thinks that there was no way in this lifetime, no way in this timeline, that you weren’t made for him.
“Hi,” Miguel starts.
“Hi,” you repeat back.
“We’re matching.”
Miguel couldn’t help but to sound giddy about it. He was more than ecstatic about it. You both looked like a couple, therefore you are a couple.
You purse your lips and nod, “That we are. Did you spy on me?”
Miguel copies you and shakes his head.
“You look different.”
“Ah. I uh, I ate good.”
You pat his stomach, fingers tentative and soft, “I see.”
Miguel wants to say something back but your eyes are scanning him with a small light similar to your anniversary night.
He breathes in and puffs his chest up a bit, like a bird trying to show off his pretty feathers to win over his lady. The corners of your lips twitch, holding back your smile.
That alone brightens Miguel up.
GymRat!Miguel who tries not to deflate when your classmate slash friend slash him-imposter makes his way into an A and B conversation.
“I haven’t seen you around campus before,” he puts his right hand out, “I’m Royce.”
Miguel’s eyes flit to you and you look up to the ceiling avoiding his look with your hands behind your back. He brings his left hand out, still poorly hiding his gift for you, twisting his wrist to shake Royce’s hand.
“Miguel.”
“Strong grip you’ve got there, Miguel,” Royce smiled, lip piercing shining. The chains attached to his pants clinked together as be let go.
“Just happy to meet new people.”
Royce pulls the sleeves of his sweater up and grins, like he knew something Miguel didn’t. The fullness of his tattoos contrasted his skin.
“Likewise. What else do you have there?” he tilts his head.
You push him in his side, Royce’s laugh echoing of the studio ceiling, “Go away. You’re so irritating.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m going. I’m guessing this means our late night session is rain checked?” he asks as your eyebrows raise.
He barely dodges as you pick up a ruler and swing at him, laughing as your professor tiredly asks you both to chill out.
Royce calms down, grabs his things, and hugs you goodbye, black hair brushing against your head.
“See you later. Bye, Miguel,” he sings, hand waving.
Miguel makes a line with his lips as he watches him leave.
“Interesting guy.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty fun,” you say, watching Miguel’s lips. “You ok?”
His face shifted, “I should be asking you that after everything.”
“Hm,” your eyes casted down. “Well, you’re here, so I think that counts for something.”
GymRat!Miguel who presents the bouquet to you, nervous of your reaction.
“It’s a small start, but I, I hope that we can still be together. I talked to Xina like you asked and I want to go somewhere with you to really say everything. All truths on the table.”
Your mouth wobbles as your eyes light up from the fairy lights woven throughout the green and golden roses.
“I’m sorry it’s not as big as it’s supposed to be.”
The woman he ordered them from was stacked with birthday and anniversary bouquets. He paid more than he should to get his flowers finished faster.
“‘You are my Evangeline’?” you ask, fingers going over the silky petals.
“Sí,” his hands cover yours over the bottom of the bunch. “La luz de mi vida, mi estrella. Mi bella Evangeline.”
You pout, stopping yourself from falling, only to plant your face in his chest, glasses and all.
Miguel wraps his arms around you, confused.
“You make me so weak,” you mumble.
His hands clutch onto your sweater, heart warm.
“I don’t necessarily think that’s a bad thing.”
You move your head, cheek pressed against his chest, “Of course you don’t. C’mon.”
His sweater is a little damp but he doesn’t mention it.
GymRat!Miguel who wants to skip as he follows you back to your dorm, but your wet oil paint canvases are in his hands. One wrong move, and his pants will be stained with whatever color landed on him.
He watches as you cradle your flowers to your chest, glancing down whenever you were waiting to cross the street.
“Do you like them?”
“Yes. They’re beautiful.”
He could do a backflip.
GymRat!Miguel who takes his shoes off by your door.
Your dorm smells like oranges and cherries, something so different than the pinecones and brown leaves outside.
“Where do want me to put these?” he asks, holding the sides of your paintings with all of his focus.
You turn and laugh at his stiff stance. His arms were stretched out to a slanted T and his feet were placed together.
“Just sit them up against the wall. They won’t bite you,” you say.
“Ok,” he says and awkwardly puts them down. He pauses his hands in front of them afterwards in case they fall.
You go to sit at your desk, placing the flowers down.
“Is Jess here?” you hear Miguel ask.
“No, she’s gone for winter break already.”
You survey your desk, looking for anything else to focus on. You brought him here, you asked for him to prove himself, yet it’s barely been two weeks since you told him that. You feel silly for it.
Still, when you don’t hear or feel him for a while, you call his name.
“Miguel?”
“What’s this?” he asks.
Spinning around, you see he’s by the end of your bed, on the floor rummaging through a box.
“You packed my stuff up?” he holds up a hoodie that you only let him wear shortly before it finds its way back into your closet. His eyebrows turn, limbs heavy as he pulls out gift after jacket after picture. So many things that marked his time together with you.
“Looking at everything was too much for me. I did it the night we fought. It helped me to focus and not,” you threw your hands up, “simmer on my boyfriend sleeping with someone who is practically the opposite of me.”
Miguel pushes the box to the side and crawls towards you. It was an odd sight to see him inching steadily across your big rug. He stops and sits in front of you, face upset.
“I really wish you would listen to me. I wish you would believe me.”
“I’m trying-“
“No, baby,” Miguel says, pulling your chair towards him. You were too far away. “You’re not. You’re blocking me out.”
You blink, fingers picking at your nails.
“Do you remember that time I said I wasn’t going to let you go?” Miguel wraps your legs around his sides and slots his head on your thigh. “I was serious about that. You aren’t supposed to let me go either.”
“I know,” you whisper. “I know.”
“So if you know, why did you let me go?”
You took a deep breath.
“Because I was hurting, Miguel. I painted this picture in my head of you two being this perfect, ideal couple because of….jealousy? Insecurity? I don’t know. I would see you two in the library sometimes or standing in line for food together, close and wrapped up in a bubble. I kept telling myself that you both were friends. These are the things that friends do. I would leave before I could give myself time to get stupidly upset. But when we were all hanging out together, you kept defending everything she was doing.”
Miguel thinks back to the comments and snide remarks he let slide and wants to shake that version of himself out of delusion.
“Then, there were the messages that weren’t going through, the calls that were getting dropped. Sometimes, I saw Xina holding you,” your voice faltered. “And she’d wear things I could find in my closet and I thought I was being punked. So, when I saw you on your birthday and took a leap of faith, I was destroyed when she was texting your phone.”
You couldn’t take it. You thought he lied to your face for months.
Miguel closed his eyes, trying to form what he wanted to say.
He’s thinking about how stupid he was to not see your pain. The signs were all there, or at least, the times when he should have stepped in were.
That aside, he was upset. Upset at the situation, upset that his relationship has been torn by someone who barely acknowledged him for a year, upset at you.
He didn’t want another girl, he didn’t need another girl, and even if by some sick and terrible decision, he decided to part ways with you, he would never choose Xina.
She couldn’t love him the way you do and what she did to him showed that.
She couldn’t make him feel the way you do. You left him with butterflies, you made him excited. You brought him so much joy.
She couldn’t care for him the way that you did. She would rather hang him out to dry to make herself look good before she thought about how he felt about something.
She couldn’t even confess to him without hurting him, without trying to shift her chances of being with him. It sucks that her life was changing so rapidly against her will, but that didn’t mean she had to create a whirlwind for him to suffer through, too.
It’s so irritating how she came in and swept up his time, his life, and your confidence, but it’s more frustrating for you to have to even wonder if she could replace you.
Miguel’s mind is going a thousand miles per minute, head starting to hurt with how aggravated he was.
“Don’t cry,” you say reaching up to his face, sniffling. “Please, don’t cry.”
He didn’t even notice he was. He realizes then that his thoughts were made aloud.
“’M sorry,” he says, face scrunching up. He leans into your hand, eyes closed as the tears fall. “I’m sorry for everything. But I’m angry that you keep thinking that you’re not worth my love. You’re worth it. You’re worth so much more than what I can give you. But I feel so lucky that you’re giving me the chance to be a part of your life, so I want you to love yourself, too.”
You nod once, twice, before your palms cover your face and you’re sobbing. Miguel pulls you down to his lap, holding you tight. He hated that you were fighting these thoughts alone, but now that he’s aware of everything he’ll try his best again to give you the love you needed.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair like a mantra.
Through your sorrow, your relief, you everything, you echo his words, “I’m sorry, too. I should have trusted you more.”
“True,” Miguel says and you laugh in the midst of your aches. “But I still love you.”
“I love you, too. I never stopped.”
He squeezes you tighter, heart feather light.
GymRat!Miguel who eventually gets you comfortable, the two of you settling down on the giant plush bean bag sofa that you’ve stuffed under your dorm bed.
He was prepared to wine and dine you, but you insisted on videos and some warm, fulfilling fast food. The true college dream.
You laid on his chest, watching as the man on screen yelled as his character opened the door to a bathroom and a stranger was fixing the sink. Miguel tensed under you, hands gripping the waist of your lounging pants.
It was making up for the Halloween you two spent apart.
“Too scary?” you move your head to look at his face.
His mouth was twisted up, heart beating, “No…”
“Then, why are you holding me so tight?”
“A boyfriend can’t hold his girlfriend?”
You grinned.
You didn’t know how much you missed him calling you his girlfriend until he was less than a centimeter away from you.
A scream followed by a line of curses comes from your laptop speakers, Miguel gasping and squinting at the screen, eyes almost squeezing shut.
“You know, we don’t have to watch this,” you try your best to turn your body so that you were fully on top of him. “We can watch something else.”
Miguel focused on your face, eyes fighting to not look at your lips, “Like what?”
“We can watch a cooking competition. I know you have some documentaries and video essays saved up. We could watch those.”
Miguel thinks he could really be a lip reader. Your lips were moving pretty fast, but he thinks he got most of it.
“You want to use the kitchen this late? It might be closed.”
You slide your hand up his chest, comforting through the thin shirt. Your lips move again and Miguel blinks slowly trying to keep up.
A touch on his jaw has him look up.
“Did you hear me?”
Miguel moves his head in a circle, answer going from yes to no.
“What are you thinking right now?”
He feels you out, hands slowly going down your back and circling the area where your thighs curve out into your ass.
“How much I need to kiss you.”
“Oh really?”
“Mm-hm.”
“Then maybe, you should put those words into action.”
That was all he needed to pull you up, mouth going to yours like a magnet. You make a startled noise as he opens his mouth to slide his lip from your jaw to the bottom of your lip.
You open your mouth with his, thumbs rubbing against his sideburns as he hums against your tongue. The sound of the push and pull of your lips fills the small space under your bed. The tale of the girl and her winter vacation long forgotten in the background.
His hands go under your waistband, palms bringing extra warmth as he squeezes over your underwear.
“I missed this,” he sighs, mouth and hands working together to make you melt into him. He was starting to grind you against him, humming low in his throat.
“Kissing me or something else?” you open your eyes a little, watching his eyelashes against his cheek.
He pushes up against you, bean bag shifting down, “Everything.”
“Cheeky.”
“More like charmed.”
The two of you were glued to each other long enough for the hour long video to end, only the glow of your fairy lights and lamps lighting your room.
Both of your shirts were pulled up, your chest smooshed against his. Miguel had one hand around your waist, massaging your side, and another pulling your underwear between your lips so that you had something extra to feel as you grind against his groin.
“Bebecita,” Miguel says after you let his tongue from your lips. He pecks you in between his words, hungry. “Let’s move this to the bed.”
He kisses down your jaw, making no effort to get up.
“I don’t have any condoms and unless you’re willing to drive out to get some-”
Miguel removes a hand to reach into his pocket.
“Did you just have that on you?” you ask looking at the pack of condoms in his hand.
“No. I got them when I went to go get clothes.”
You tut, “So you just thought we were going have sex? You’re not even supposed to be in here right now.”
He slides his fingers down between your legs, pressing on your lips over cotton, “Of course not, bebe. I’m not an animal.”
He rubs and sucks a kiss into your neck. You’re so lost in him that you didn’t even realize that you were beginning to push back against his fingers. The moan you let out brings you back to reality.
Seeing Miguel’s smug face made you hide yours in his chest.
“Just try not to be too loud. I don’t know if my neighbor is still here or not,” you muffled into his skin.
GymRat!Miguel who really didn’t give a fuck about the neighbors.
He thinks he wants them to hear. It’s been too long since he had you, his decency was thrown out of the window.
Right now, he was head first, indulging, sucking at the entrance of your heat. You were on your knees, ass in his face, and feet hanging off the bed. You were already so wet from earlier, but now he has you dripping down his face onto the floor, moaning into your pillow.
He didn’t hear you over himself as he gripped your skin to spread you over his tongue. Your thighs were shaking like a leaf, feet occasionally kicking as Miguel found his pocket to make you suck him in.
You sounded off into the silk case below you, trying not to make yourself louder than the music you put on.
Miguel was satisfied that you came on his tongue, but didn’t like you censoring yourself not one bit.
“I want to try something new,” he states into your skin, sucking your clit through the aftershocks.
You only give him a shaky thumbs up, mind still finding its other pieces.
GymRat!Miguel who has you flat against your stomach along the bed. There really was barely any room to do this, but he was going to make it work.
You had a long mirror in your room that wasn’t attached to the wall, so beforehand, he brought it over to lean against the desk and turn it towards the top of your bed. He saw the confusion in your face through the glass, but he only smiled and went right back to you.
Now, he was holding one cheek over as he slid in slowly. From the mirror, he could see your face scrunch up. He shifted his knees, watching.
“¿Estás bien?” he asks. “Want me to slow down? Pull out?”
“No,” you keen, constricting around him. He sucked air in through his teeth, feeling you suck him in. “I just haven’t felt you in a while.”
He leans to kiss up your back, taking fat in between his lips to mark it as his. He fights the urge to just bite and stay there for a while.
“Whose fault is that, pretty?” he teases, dragging his lips to the back of neck.
You look to your left and pout at him through the mirror. He looks back, eyes scanning your naked upper half.
You arch your back and tighten around him. He thinks you’re a menace.
“Yours,” you tease back.
“Yeah?” his left hand grabs your waist, thumb pressing into the small of your back. He slides out a bit, hips elevated. “Let me fix that, then.”
His hips dip back into you, smack of his skin against yours. The bed creaks and Miguel watches your eyelids fall.
“Do you want a fast solution?” Miguel says right in your ear. “Or should we do some deeper research?”
He snaps his hips again, leaning down and pressing his weight onto you. Your hands curl up against the mattress, mouth open but only letting out gasps and breaths. Miguel nearly pulls all the way out, then swerves back in, pushing your voice out of you.
“It sounds like you want to pull from some scholarly articles,” Miguel whispers. He’s barely picking up a sweat while you’re hot everywhere. “It’s unclear.”
The springs of the mattress sing, metal and wood bed frame keeping a steady tempo against the wall.
You can’t even focus enough to tell him to shut up, the position you were in knocking the wind out of you. You start to hide your face in your pillow again, overwhelmed.
Miguel releases an offended sound.
“Nuh uh,” his right hand wraps in front of your neck. He pulls head up and turns it towards the mirror. “Look how pretty you look. Don’t hide.”
Your boyfriend might be a little nuts.
Your eyes can’t even focus but he’s holding your head steady and nibbling your earlobe as he waits. Your glasses are crooked and fogging up, you can’t even really see.
His name tries to fall from your mouth, but that “M” sound comes out broken and loud. He’s too busy being enchanted by how good you look.
“Mi preciosa princesita,” his hips stutter as you clench in response. “So gorgeous.”
He’s hitting your spot over and over again. You’re losing track of time.
“Don’t you think so too, baby?” Miguel huffs.
“Y-yes, Miggy, please.”
“Are you close?”
You nod, watching his eyes get darker.
“Ok, bebé. I still have some follow-up questions, though. Gonna answer them?”
A yell comes out as your answer, Miguel stroking faster.
He kisses your cheek and takes your glasses off. They were slipping and he was scared you were going to break them.
“Question one, do you want to do something for winter break?”
He opens your legs a bit, leaning and wrapping his hand under your body. His fingers find your clit and rub nice and slow. Overstimulated, you scream into the pillow. Miguel kisses your shoulder as he hums.
“I think that’s a yes,” Miguel says. Your back arches as you try to move your hips to match his pace. “Question two, what do you want for Christmas? It’s getting late, but I’ll find it. I swear.”
“Fuck, Miguel,” you say as his hands move to your breasts. He can’t do much, but there’s still something so good about him all over you.
“You want this again? We can arrange that.”
He was close and you could hear it in the way his voice wavered.
“Last question,” he rose off of you, hands pushing against your back. Your body couldn’t move as he slapped his pelvis against your ass. The recoil sounded off in the room and the entire bed jumped with his movement.
“Are you still mad at me?”
Your back arched as you felt him breach deep enough to make you go crazy. He was mumbling something but your thoughts were swimming with his dick inside of you about to introduce another orgasm.
“Say it back, baby. You gotta say it back,” Miguel’s voice sounds out.
There might be a pool of drool growing under your face. Your boyfriend didn’t care, though. He would still want you to say that declaration through any obstruction.
“I love you, Miguel. Te amo tanto.”
His hips quicken, bed against the wall like a drumline.
When he cums, his body tightens and releases, weight letting go as he covers you. He’s breathing hard, “te amo,” his proverb to you.
You blink at the mirror, vision blurry, but the comforted and satisfied expression of Miguel still recognizable.
You could stay like this, breaths slowly becoming tighter until you fall asleep in his arms.
The bed gives a loud snap, scaring Miguel into nearly falling off of it with you on top.
It’s leaning a little more to the back left than it should.
“Did you just break my fucking bed?”
He panics, “I-it was a joint effort!”
“Miguel.”
GymRat!Miguel who thanks whatever entity it is out there afterwards that it was just a screw that came out and not the bed actually completely splitting.
“This is why the beds are tiny in the first place,” you say from the bean bag, watching him screw it back together.
“I would have covered the costs if it was actually broken. We should look into sturdy bed frames for the future, though.”
“Oh?”
Miguel pauses, “Not that I was thinking about that!”
“You already have a list, don’t you.”
You watch his hands stutter as he puts your screwdriver back in your bin.
GymRat!Miguel who suggests you lay on top of him in the bed.
The two of you were freshly showered and ready to close your eyes any minute now.
“We should take breaks more often. I feel like jelly,” you say with a low voice, drawing circles over his chest.
He grabs your wrist, voice serious in the dark, “Don’t joke like that.”
“Hmm, I guess you’re right. You made up for the last time you didn’t make me come.“
“Baby.”
You giggled into him as he pinched your sides.
“What about you and Royce? Your friend whose name starts with an R and ends with an E.”
“It’s not my fault rose and Royce are similar!”
“But you knew what you were doing. How cruel,” he pouts.
You pat his cheek!
“Well, you don’t have to worry because he has a boyfriend.”
“Oh! So, he’s gay.”
“Bi. Open relationship.”
“Oh,” Miguel replied, less happy.
“I kind of just want one lover, though.”
“Oh,” Miguel says again, more happy. “What kind of lover?”
You stay quiet for so long, Miguel thinks you’ve gone to sleep.
There’s a lot of things that you love about him. His kindness, his heart, his determination, his wit. Tonight, though, he truly took your breath away.
And you realize, he’s always done that.
“The kind that loves me the way that you do.”
Miguel’s chest rises and falls like a wave that gets weaker as it hits the shore.
“Me too, mi luz. Me too.”
divider by: fanguro + adornedwithlight 🩵
a/n: Our family is has been brought back together!! Also, if you get which horror game they were watching, you get a gold star.
Please very mindful, very cutesy, very demure in the comments. Don’t ask about the next part unless you have something nice/constructive to say to go with it. And no, this is not the last time Xina will be in this story. But it’ll get better!
The taglist is full, so if you would like to be informed of future updates, check my blog occasionally (💀) or subscribe to the story on AO3!
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